Author: Chaos
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Qui-gon and Obi-wan and the universe they come from, along with their vehicle and all their luggage belong to George Lucas exclusively. They are respectfully borrowed with no intent to profit thereby or infringe on the copyright thereof.



Section 9

She was laying in her parents� bed. Debrah could tell by the way the room smelled, of dust, her mother�s perfume, her father�s cologne, of cat hair. Then again, nearly every room in the house smelled of cat hair. She was stretched out full length next to a warm body, her arm stretched across a broad chest, her head resting on a comfortable shoulder.

Why had she slept here? Why was there someone with her? The questions nagged slightly, but the deep, restful calm that suffused her precluded anything but abandoning herself back to it. Everything was relaxed, peaceful, perfect.

Debrah let sleep reclaim her.

*******

Deep blue eyes opened wonderingly and gazed about the room. It had once belonged to Debrah�s parents. She didn�t question how she knew that. She just knew it, like she knew her father was Irish and her mother was Welsh, Isolda was the Captain, Erich was the bosun, Joanna was the quartermaster and Sven was the navigator. Those things simply were. The year is 1536. Nae. That is my year. Debrah�s year, this year, is 2001. That realization forced a radical change in her outlook, but she accepted it as she accepted that she knew the proper year, calmly and unconditionally.

She became aware of the warm body beside her on her bed, a wondrously male body, and gazed up at the slumbering Jedi Master�s face. In it there was strength, maturity, peace and a hint of a smile. She liked smiles. They could show so much of what a person was really like. Debrah might not think of this man as anything other than a person in need of help, but Morgan had spent far too long on an all-female pirate ship. The cabin boy, Rob, the only man on board the Emerald, was married and Morgan knew better than to mess around with a married man. But the man beside her was neither married nor a priest.

She reached within. The others sleep. The body is mine.

Her hand slowly stroked across his chest, making the movement a caress and those blue-grey eyes opened to regard her with growing surprise.

�Good morning. How are you feeling today?�

�Good, but since you�re on tha other side of tha covers from me end we both still have all our clothes on, I could be better.� Her hand moved from his chest to the side of his face, continuing the caress. �You, on tha other hand, feel verra nice indeed.� she purred.

�Deb . . .� He started to say, eyes wide, but she cut him off.

�No.� A finger pressed softly against his lips to keep him from finishing the word. �Do nae say her name. Say mine.� She watched him look her over, confusion in his eyes. He stared hard at her face and she let a warm, come-hither smile stretch her lips.

�And what name should I call you?�

�Morgan, of course.� She pushed herself up and leaned toward him, seeking to close the gap between her lips and his. Qui-gon hurriedly slipped off the side of the bed and out of her reach before she could complete the maneuver and her sultry smile melted into a disappointed pout. �A whole night in tha same bed together end I do nae even get a kiss?�

�Wake up, Debrah.� His voice carried more than a trace of worry. �Wake up.� he urged.

The pout turned into a frown.

�Wake up.� This time it was a command.

All expression melted away as she turned inward and felt Debrah waking. //no! i only wanted a little time. only a little more, please.// But there was no answer and her entire body relaxed and she collapsed back onto the bed with a soft plop. A moment later her eyes fluttered open, revealing the proper jade green hue.

A soft, shy smile spread across her lips and she stretched. �Good morning. Whatever you did last night, thank you. I feel much better today.� Debrah gazed up at him, completely unaware of what had just transpired. �Speaking of today, which today is it? How long have I been alternating between wigging out completely and sleeping?�

�Our shopping expedition was only yesterday. And it is still fairly early in the morning.� he replied.

�So, how about I get up and make us some breakfast?�

�Obi-wan is doing that as we speak.�

�Obi?� Debrah jerked upright, visions of the flaming wreckage of her mother�s kitchen wiping the last traces of sleep from her mind. She scrambled down the length of the bed and launching herself off the end, she bolted through the door and hurried down the hallway. Qui-gon could hear the rushed thumping of her feet upon the stairs. The master knew there wasn�t any need to worry. The young man was careful, even if he wasn�t the best cook in the galaxy. There was little risk that he would burn down the house.

*******

The eggs turned out okay, Debrah thought, but it�s a good thing I had bread on hand to make toast to go with them. Those pancakes were awful.

As if he sensed the course of her thoughts, and knowing what she did now Debrah wouldn�t doubt it, Obi-wan turned a pleading scowl her way. �Hey, they weren�t that bad. Were they?�

�Do you see any of us eating them?� She sighed and set down her fork, looking the young man right in the eyes. �Next time you try and cook from a foreign cookbook, do us all a favor and learn to read it first?�

�Debrah,� Qui-gon began casually, changing the topic as he idly toyed with his glass of juice. �You mentioned the other day that your friends call you Morgan. Why is that?�

She laughed. �That�s a strange question, but I suppose that it�s strange to be called something other than your real name as well.�

�I was just curious.�

�Well, my friends and I were all part of a history club in school. We researched and learned all about a specific period in time called the Middle Ages. It was before there was any sort of industrial revolution and most of the countries of the world was still ruled by feudal systems of government. To sort of get into the spirit of things we all picked a person from that time period to be. Some picked more than one. I remember trying to keep all of Mehgan�s personas straight.� She laughed lightly. �It wasn�t easy. Anyway, the one I used most often was Morgan O�Rourke, a pirate from the fifteenth century, first mate on the Emerald under Captain Isolda. It got so that they just called me Morgan all the time.�

�I see. And the other one? I assume there was another one since you said �most often�.�

�Yes, the other one was from a much earlier period. She was Maeve of Stonehaven, a warrior and an assassin.�

�A warrior?�

�Yup.� A bright smile flashed below green eyes. �The Celts let their women fight and gained quite a reputation from it. They were never quite beaten, no matter how their enemies tried. Maeve was one of her family�s protectors. She got her fighting orders from her family and her assassination orders from the Laughing Buddha.�

�The laughing Buddha?� Obi-wan�s eye brows inched closer to his hair-line.

�Yes,� she replied with a chuckle. �Within our club there were many guilds, but one of the unofficial ones was the Assassin�s Guild and the Laughing Buddha was its master.� She waved a calming hand at them and continued. �Not that we ever really hurt anyone, because we didn�t, but it was a fun sort of a make believe thing. Meghan even created a truly unlikable persona just for the express purpose of letting us kill her off. There isn�t any such thing as the Laughing Buddha in real life.�

�Isn�t that kind of a strange name for an assassin?�

�Of course. That was the whole point. No one would call an assassin a buddha, let alone a laughing one.� Debrah began gathering dishes to clear the table.

�No, it�s my turn,� Obi-wan stopped her. �Let me do it.�

*******

While Debrah was upstairs showering and getting dressed, Qui-gon took Obi-wan aside into the Living Room.

�I am worried about Debrah, Padawan.� he stated. �I do not think that I handled her fears and nightmares properly.�

Obi�s brow furrowed and he frowned in confusion. �What do you mean? She seems fine this morning.�

�My point exactly.� Qui-gon folded his hands together, then shook his head in frustration and stuck his hands in his pockets when he remembered that he wasn�t wearing his robe. �She seems to remember that it happened. And she remembers that she did not react well to it, but I can not sense any guilt or lingering fear or pain in her. For her reactions and emotions to change so radically and quickly is not a good sign.� The tall man hesitated, but his apprentice was waiting patiently for him to continue and the boy needed to be warned. �This morning while you were preparing breakfast . . .� he groped for the right words to use.

�What happened, Master?� Obi-wan�s voice was tinged with concern.

�When she first woke up this morning she called herself �Morgan.� She spoke differently.� Qui-gon tipped his head to a contemplative angle as he examined the memory. �Her eyes were blue.�

�Blue? Are you sure it wasn�t a trick of the light?�

�They were blue, Obi-wan. I got quite a close look when she tried to kiss me.� The master held up a hand to forestall any startled outburst or impertinent remark. �She asked me not to call her Debrah and she was quite . . . forward and blunt about her intentions.�

He sighed.

�I fear that my mishandling of the situation has resulted in a fracturing of Debrah�s personality and I suspect that Morgan is not the only new person in her mind.�

�That is why you asked her about Morgan during breakfast.�

�Yes.�

�Does Debrah know about any of this?�

�I suspect that she does not.� Qui-gon�s eyes narrowed in thought, then he shook his head and forced himself to relax. What was done was done and he could not call it back.

�Master, what if one of the others is Maeve?� The Jedi Master nodded sagely as his apprentice put one of his own fears into words.

�Two personalities already established and acted out in the past were right there waiting. It would make sense for her to use templates so close to hand. Debrah no longer feels any guilt for the agent�s death. Neither a pirate nor an assassin would feel guilt for killing in self-defense. One of them has taken the blame for her, protecting her from the consequences of her actions.� Qui-gon rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

�Whether it is just Morgan, or many more, we must be cautious. I have already handled this poorly and I have no wish to make the situation worse.�

�Master, you could not have known that this would happen.� Obi-wan argued. �We can not return home without help, and she has offered it freely, knowing better than we possibly could what dangers there might be. Do not blame yourself.�

�I do not �blame� myself, Obi-wan. I am merely taking responsibility for my actions. And I can not, in good conscience, leave before we have seen to her recovery.�

*******

Collins waited irritably for his partner Lark to return from his coffee run. Not that he�d expected it to be quick. The nearest town was over twenty minutes away via some of the most winding roads and the most congested highway to be found. This was one of the dullest details he�d ever been on.

They�d finished casing the neighborhood, such as it was. Nine houses on a half-mile stretch of road was hardly what he�d call a neighborhood. It had taken them the better part of yesterday afternoon to find a place with enough concealment but also with a good view of the house where they could set up their surveillance gear. And now it was lightly drizzling on Collins while his partner was somewhere warm and cozy, snuggled up against a cup of coffee.

Life just wasn�t fair.

Well, he thought, maybe this isn�t that boring a job. Yeah, they�d missed getting a good look at the targets, since they�d come home and gotten into the house before the two agents had the gear ready. But, only a couple minutes after they�d gotten all set up the call had come in. One of the three had killed Phil Jones.

Edward Collins wasn�t going to cry about that one. Phil had always been a little too edgy as far as he was concerned. The guy probably threatened them and forced them to defend themselves. That�s the way it usually worked with people like Phil. They just didn�t know when to back off and sit tight. They shouldn�t let people like that do close surveillance work.

No, on second though it really wasn�t dull after all. Late that evening the woman had started screaming. Later, they�d overheard the two men discussing the fact that she was having nightmares. Probably hasn�t ever seen anyone die before, he mused. One of those guys must be feeling pretty guilty right about now for scaring her like that. He adjusted the volume on the laser mic bouncing off a kitchen window and heaved a deep sigh. He wished again that the girl lived in the city where he could do this from the comfort of an apartment or hotel room.

There was a popping and crackling of underbrush as Burt Larken finally returned. Collins didn�t even look up from the hooded binoculars. � �Bout time.�

�So sue me. It�s not my fault she chose to live out in the middle of nowhere.� Lark pressed a warm styrofoam cup into his partner�s hand. �I brought your slicker from the car.� There was a mumbled thanks as Collins scooted back from the gear to don some protection against the chilly drizzle. Larken took his place at the binoculars and gazed speculatively at the quiet, blue-grey house. �Anything interesting happen?�

�You mean other than them having breakfast?�

�Uh huh.�

�Nope.�

�Anything from the office?�

�Nope.�

Larken sighed and swept yet another sharp twig out from underneath himself. �Another exciting day in the field.�

�Yep.�

The Area 51 agent shook his head at himself and wondered if some higher power had it in for him as he settled the headphones over his ears. �Where are they at?�

�The girl is upstairs, showering. The two men are around the other side of the house talking about something, but I can�t get an angle on a close enough window to hear anything.�

�Wait, girl�s coming down the stairs. Hopefully it won�t be to discuss the weather.� Larken muttered under his breath. He told himself to quit being such a baby to save Collins the bother and settled in to listen as the girl started talking to the men who had returned to the family room to join her.

�Okay guys, I think that I should take a look at your vehicle today and see what kind of damage there is. Then I can let you know if I can fix it or if we�ll have to get someone more experienced to help us. I should be able to tell you right away which it is.� The laser mic was bouncing off the family room window and getting great reception.

�Are you sure you are feeling up to it?� That would be the older man, his voice was considerably deeper than the boy�s.

�Yeah. You and Obi have taken great care of me and I feel fine now. I should get to work so that you two can get back on your way. They�re sure to track us down if we linger much longer.�

Larken cast a glance at Collins and both men nodded. Orders or not, they needed to stop those people from going anywhere. That meant storming the house. There were only three civilians inside, so it shouldn�t prove to be too difficult a task. They would just have to be careful of the men. One of them had already killed a fellow operative.

The agents made sure the recorder was rolling and moved off through the forest toward the house. They would have to do this quickly and with no shots fired. In this neighborhood, odds were that a shot would bring armed neighbors to investigate. It was something to be studiously avoided.

*******

It was opportunity more than anything else. Debrah had come out of the front door and was heading toward her car to get her toolkit from the trunk when the two Never, Never Land pirates were crossing in front of the garage. The two parties met at the corner and the ones with the guns won the toss. The woman didn�t even consider fighting to be an option. There were two of them, both with guns drawn and she wanted desperately to avoid a repeat of yesterday. She figured she could only handle one breakdown a year.

They marched her back into the house, one holding her at gun point, the other right behind him. Debrah had private dubbed them Smee and Starkey. Starkey had her left arm twisted up behind her back in a hammer lock and it pulled painfully at her injured shoulder. The gun was a hard, cool circle at the corner of her jaw. She hoped that Qui-gon and Obi-wan wouldn�t do anything foolish. They still hadn�t retrieved their weapons from the light fixture in the kitchen and she didn�t want either of them to get themselves hurt.

The Jedi had sensed it the moment Debrah had been captured. They knew they didn�t have time to get their lightsabres, so they positioned themselves for an ambush. Obi ducked into the entry hall closet and Qui-gon stepped up onto the second stair, the stairwell wall hiding him from anyone standing in the doorway. It was a good plan and would have worked if they hadn�t been facing ruthless men with excellent training and a keenly honed warrior�s senses.

Starkey jerked Debrah to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Smee pushed the door open and then stepped back so that both men were behind their hostage, both guns pointing through the doorway to cover the entrances from both the Family room and the living room.

�Government agents!� Smee shouted. �We know you�re in there. We�ve got the girl. Come out now, with your hands up.� For a long moment there was no reply, so Smee nodded and Starkey jerked hard on Debra�s arm. She managed to repress a pained cry, but a low hiss slipped past her lips and that was more than enough.

Qui-gon came around the stairwell wall, his hands raised to chest height in a non-threatening manner. Debrah smirked through the throbbing in her shoulder and half hoped that the men behind her would let him come a little closer. Her own master had been the most dangerous when standing in an almost identical stance. Obi-wan ducked out of the closet in a similar stance, his hands up as well.

�Hold it right there!� Smee barked. Damn!! Not close enough. she thought. The spooks are just too wary of them. Probably because of yesterday.

�Back up, slowly.� Smee snarled at them.

The two Jedi backed into the family room and around the couch till they were standing up against the entertainment center. �You.� Smee gestured at Qui-gon. �Over here, turn around and put your hands on the counter.�

�Don�t even twitch, punk.� Starkey warned Obi. �Or I�ll put a bullet through her head.� The gun pressed painfully into Debrah�s jaw. I�m going to have a bruise, she thought. �Go ahead, Lark. I�ve got an eye on him.�

The newly identified Lark pulled a pair of military style cuffs from his belt. They hinged instead of being chained together and were much harder to escape from than police cuffs. To make extra sure, Lark twisted them around so that the keyhole was facing toward the man�s elbows rather than his hands. It was almost impossible to pick them that way. With an ungentle shove, the agent pushed Qui-gon down onto the couch and cuffed Obi-wan in an identical manner. When both men were seated on the couch, the spooks sat Debrah on the step-stool and cuffed her hands to the legs.

�Lark, go get the portable polygraph. I wanna ask these three a few questions.�

�Ed, is that a good idea?� Lark looked marginally uncomfortable with the thought of going any farther. �We�ve stopped them from leaving. We should call in for instructions now.�

Ed shrugged with an unpleasant kind of smile. �Question them here or at the office, what�s the difference?� He waved Lark toward the door. �Just bring the whole interrogation kit. We�ll probably need the drugs. They don�t exactly look like the cooperative sort.� Lark hesitated a heartbeat longer then capitulated and walked out the door. Ed settled himself with a heavy foot holding down the back of the light-weight step-stool and stared dispassionately at the two men on the couch. He obviously had no intent of doing anything until his partner returned.

The silence deepened in the room. Debrah tugged futilely at her bonds, her green eyes flashing in anger and frustration. She should have been paying better attention. If she had not been so preoccupied with the thought of tinkering around inside an actual spaceship, she would have sensed the threat in time to do something about it. It was her fault they were in this mess.

�There is no need to keep us restrained.� Qui-gon stated calmly. Debrah could feel the Force moving to carry his words to the mind of the operative behind her. Her heart leapt with hope at the thought that it might be just that easy, but her words from the day before were driven home a second later. Spooks like the one following them the day before were strong willed and very focused on their tasks.

�Oh, yes there is. I heard what one of you did to Phil yesterday. Put a hand through his throat. Messy business that. There�s no way in hell I�m going to let you two loose. I�d ventilate both your braincases and settle for what information I could get from Blondie here, if I didn�t have orders from higher up that you were all to be taken alive.� The gun tipped nonchalantly in the tall man�s direction. �Just relax and shut up. When I want to hear from you, I�ll let you know.�

There were no further attempts to influence the agent�s mind and his partner returned in a few minutes with two cases in his hands. The slightly larger one proved to be the portable polygraph. The sensor pads were affixed to Debrah�s temple and arm. They were cold against her skin. She silently vowed not to answer a single one of the Pirate�s questions, no matter what. She locked eyes with Qui-gon and shook her head slightly, praying that he would read the message in here eyes. Please, just don�t try or say anything.

�What�s your name?� She sat mutely and stared straight ahead.

�We already know the answer to this one, so you might as well just say it.� There was still no response.

Ed leaned closer to her, his mouth practically in her ear, while Lark watched the readout on the machine. The woman stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. �I said, what is your name?�

Those green eyes glanced at him, blinked once and turned away again. A backhand across her cheek rocked her head violently on her neck and she choked back the desire to kick him where it would cause the most pain. That would not improve the situation the least little bit.

Obi-wan jerked and moved to leap off the couch at the man. Lark coolly pointed a gun at the young man and he forced himself to sit back, but his blue eyes simmered with anger.

�What is your name?!� The man was practically screaming at her now, but she held firm. There was no way they were going to get her to cooperate, not voluntarily.

Another blow landed across her face bringing the salty, metallic taste of blood to her mouth and she knew she�d bitten into her cheek that time. The return swing knocked her head back the other way and her vision swam. She reached for her concentration and began the self-hypnosis she used for headaches and such. Her martial arts masters had taught her several meditation techniques for controlling or ignoring pain. It was one such that she used now.

There is no pain. she told herself, eyes clenched tightly shut. He has not hit me or hurt me because he is not here. I do not hurt, I do not bleed. There is no pain. There is no pain. She ignored the blows that rocked her head back and forth. She ignored everything and it all disappeared.

Her deep blue eyes opened and regarded the agent before them with a measuring gaze. �I�m only going to ask you one more time before I start working on your friends,� he was saying. �What is your name?�

Her swollen lips moved painfully, but the words came out in a soft, lilting accent. �My name is Morgan O�Rourke.� Qui-gon and Obi-wan shared a worried look. Debrah had retreated and her new personality had taken the field in her place.

Ed threw a confused glance at Lark, but the man held up the sheet of paper slowly scrolling out of the machine. �Says here it�s the truth.� Ed nodded reluctantly and returned to his questions.

�And your friends� names?�

A smirk twisted her lips. �Tha young one is tha Archbishop of Canterbury end his friend is his Holiness, tha Pope.�

Ed ignored her sarcasm to check the machine�s readout. �Got the baseline you need?�

�Yeah. Go right ahead.�

�Where is Debrah Reimers?�

�On a picnic at tha sea-side?� A backhand brought a hiss of pain from her. �I have�na seen her.� Lark nodded at Ed.

�Who are your two friends here?�

�I already told ya. They�re tha Archbishop end tha Pope. Shall I write it down for ya, ya stupid sheep biter?� This time the blow was administered with the gun and landed on her abused left shoulder. She gasped aloud as the lightning shock of pain raced from wrist to neck and back again. Those hard, glittering chips of blue glared at the Pirate from Never, Never Land. There was no way she was going to take this from a rival. The Captain would hear about it and then Isolda would have this man�s guts for garters and present Morgan with what was left. �You should�na do that. It might prove hazardous ta your health.�

�Don�t give me any lip. Just answer my questions.� Ed snarled at her.

�Then ask me something intelligent, bilge-water-for-brains.�

�I�m tired of this, Lark. Prep a shot of sodium-pentathol for me.�

Morgan�s blue eyes followed every step of the preparation of the syringe. Her eyes got wider and wider and sweat stood out on her forehead. When Lark flicked at it lightly with a finger then gave a gentle push on the plunger to expel any air bubbles, she squeaked in fear. Her arm had begun jerking and trembling when they swabbed her bicep and when the long thin needle came within an inch of her skin, she simply passed out.

�I beat her half senseless and smack her with a gun and she�s still calling me names, but get her up close to a needle and she passes out?� Ed sneered derisively. �Give it to her, then we�ll bring her around.�

Lark carefully slid the hypodermic home and gave her the full dose. He waited a few moments, checking his watch, then nodded. �She�ll start feeling the effects shortly. Go ahead and wake her up.�

Ed didn�t do anything gently when it came to interrogations. His wide palm administered sharp, stinging slaps to both sides of the woman�s face till her eyes fluttered and she pulled away from the blows. He gave her one more for good measure and stepped back, waiting.

Behind him, both Jedi were deep in the use of calming techniques. It was frightfully hard to sit back and do nothing, but Debrah had asked them to do just that and they were going to do it. She knew better than they how to handle this situation. Qui-gon watched closely as her eyes fluttered. He waited till they settled into an unhappy looking half-lidded stare. They were neither blue nor green, but a hard, menacing gold and he knew they were about to meet a third personality. Her head bobbed slightly and she moved as if she was not in control of her own body. She was firmly in the grip of the drug.

�Let�s try this again, shall we?� Ed suggested in a half reasonable tone. �We�ll start with something easy. What is your name?�

�Maeve.� The word rolled out in a thick brogue. Ed hissed out a frustrated breath and shot an impatient look at Lark, but the man sitting behind the machine shrugged in surprise and indicated that she was, indeed, telling the truth.

�Alright, Maeve.� Ed�s head shook back and forth. This woman had almost as many names as there were cats wandering around in her house. �Next question. Who killed our agent in the parking garage?� Qui-gon did not like the triumphant smile Ed favored him with, but watched with curiosity as it changed to confusion when both himself and Obi-wan winced at the memory of the fight. It was obviously not the reaction the agent had expected.

�I killed him.� The senior agent�s head snapped around to look at the drugged woman as if someone had jerked on a chain attached to his chin.

�Why?�

Gold eyes glittered harshly. � �E was gettin� in the way of me job.�

�What job?� Qui-gon watched as the two spooks shared a worried look. He could feel the worry, confusion, apprehension that was beginning to swell through them.

�Pretect.� Her gaze locked on the two Jedi. �At all costs.�

�And who gives you your jobs, Maeve?� Qui-gon noted that there was a strained note in the man�s voice.

�The Laughing Buddha.�

Lark�s pulse jumped wildly and Ed backed away from the woman in the chair. Qui-gon stretched out with the Force. What Debrah had just told them had frightened both men terribly. He could sense their burgeoning panic. Perhaps now would be a good time to try and influence them again. The two men had pulled off to one side and were having a hushed discussion. The Jedi Master channeled the Force into his sense of hearing and brought the conversation up to an easily heard volume.

�This is really bad, Collins. The Laughing Buddha? We don�t even have a high enough clearance to know who the guy is and she takes her orders from him.�

�I know, I know. What we need to do it get on the horn right this instant. Get HQ cracking on contacting whoever we can to find out if she really is an agent of his.�

�If she is we can kiss our careers and our butts good-bye. We�ll probably be silenced, or at the very least, permanently transferred.� Larken hissed back frantically. �I have a wife and kids!�

�Calm down, let�s get the ball rolling. Maybe we can keep this discreet by calling in some favors. Put away the polygraph. I�ll look for a room we can stash them in for a while. How long will she be out of it?�

�Uh . . . I gave her a pretty big dose. She should be groggy for the next couple of hours at the least.�

�Good, maybe we can use some of that stuff to convince her we were never here.�

�We�d have to do her friends too.�

�Yeah. They don�t worry me as much, though. Not if we�ve messed up one of the Laughing Buddha�s operations.�




Section 10