Title: A Mile in their Shoes By: Cassia Email: [email protected] Category: Story, Humor, Drama, Adventure, etc. Rating:  PG Spoilers: None, I think. Disclaimer: All recognizable Star Wars characters are the exclusive property of George Lucas.  All others belong to me. I have no official permission to use these characters, but I'm not being paid for it either, so that's okay. Feedback:  Yes Please!  Time Frame: 9 years before TMP.  Obi-Wan is 16. Things bracketed by *'s are *italic*. Summary: When the young Queen-to-be of the Planet Radoon's life is threatened, Obi-Wan must go undercover to protect her, but just how far will the ruse have to go?  And will it be enough? -A Mile in their Shoes- PART ONE: "You're not serious Master?" Obi-Wan pleaded.  "Please tell me you're not serious about this." "I am very serious about this Obi-Wan, it is the only way," Qui-Gon had no mercy on the 16-year-old.  He pushed his Padawan down into a chair.  "Mon Drane here has been good enough to offer us his services for the... makeover." The multiple-armed Cestian smiled and tipped a little bow.  He leaned Obi-Wan's chair back and picked up a jar filled with some kind of flesh-colored cream.  Obi-Wan groaned.  "But Master, do you honestly expect me to be able to pass for, for a girl?" "Oh, you'll pass quite nicely when I'm done with you," Mon Drane assured cheerfully.  He ran one of his thumbs along Obi-Wan's smooth jaw-line as if assessing the apprentice.  "You'll be very pretty," he concluded.  That was not exactly what Obi-Wan wanted to hear. "But Master, won't this be, deceiving people?" he asked hopefully.  "Surely there is another way..." Obi-Wan was still looking for a way out of this as the supple- fingered Cestian started smearing the cold, greasy cream on his face. "It's not being deceitful, it's playing a part.  Obi- Wan, this is the Radoonian rite of passage for the Princess.  No males are allowed to be present, but our job is to protect the Princess at all times.  The threat against her will not be over until she sits on Radoon's throne," Qui-Gon explained patiently. Obi-Wan grimaced.  The three days until that happened seemed much too far away for the apprentice at that moment.  Princess Mareeja was only a year older than Obi-Wan, but a sad twist of events had left her with a planet to rule after the terrible double-murder of her parents.  The killer or killers had never been caught, but Mareeja felt sure that her Uncle, Warren Dejabold was behind the murders, and would try for her too.  However, the young Princess had no proof, so she turned to the Jedi and the Council sent Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in response to the Princess's plea for protection until the coronation ceremony.  Obi-Wan was not sure he understood it entirely, but somehow, after Mareeja was crowned Queen, the threat to her was over, even though her parents had been killed while they were king and queen.  It hardly made sense, but it had something to do with the fact that if she was killed, or captured *before* the coronation, while Radoon had no official ruler, then her Uncle could step into power as the next of kin.  On the other hand, if something happened to her *after* she was the Queen, and she had no heir to take the throne, then the law said that Radoon would hold elections, to elect itself new monarchy.  Warren Dejabold was not well liked by the people; he would not stand a chance in an open election, so Mareeja's death after the coronation would do him no good.  Of course, all that was assuming that it was indeed Mareeja's uncle who was behind this, they really did not *know* that for certain... "If Princess Mareeja is so concerned about her safety, then why does she refuse to let us be present this evening?" he wondered aloud as Mon Drane layered powder over the base he had applied to give Obi-Wan a smooth, delicate complexion.  Obi-Wan coughed as he accidentally breathed some of the powder.  "Because the coming of age rite is a very sacred thing for young girls here, and according to tradition no one but girls, under seventeen who have not yet had the rite yet themselves, may attend," Qui-Gon watched the proceedings with amusement. "Then why didn't the Council send female Jedi?" Obi- Wan groused. "Ours is not to know, ours is-" "To do, I know," Obi-Wan finished the oft-repeated phrase for his Master.  He wondered if Qui-Gon had learned that at the Temple when he was an initiate, just like Obi- Wan had.  Then the apprentice wondered if it had ever gotten on his Master's nerves quite as much as it did his. "I just don't see why I have to do this," Obi-Wan muttered to himself, not meaning for his Master to hear him, but Qui-Gon did. "Because we have a job to do and you're the only one who can," Qui-Gon responded.  "Look at me Padawan, I would hardly be able to pass for under seventeen, and I do believe that not even Mon Drane's fine skills could make me look like a woman..." Qui-Gon ran his hand over his beard, a wry little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Obi-Wan nearly laughed in spite himself.  The thought of Qui-Gon trying to look like a woman was a hilarious one.  Even if the Master shaved his beard, there was no way to coax that sharply angled, distinctively masculine face into anything even remotely feminine.  Mon Drane glanced up, appraising Qui-Gon for a moment, and then shook his head.  "You are right good Jedi, I am an artist, not a miracle worker.  Hold still," he added the last to Obi-Wan who had not been able to help laughing at the way in which the make-up artist had assessed Qui-Gon's chances of being able to pass for a female.  "You, on the other hand my young friend," the Cestian added, returning to his work, "Are still young enough, and the lines of your face soft enough to work with."  Obi-Wan gave in with an inward groan.  If there was no way out of this, then he was just going to have to make the best of it. "Look at it as an understanding exercise Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said.  "You know what they say about not being able to truly appreciate someone else until you've walked a mile in their shoes... or, heels as the case may be," the Jedi Master said with the unmistakable hint of a smile playing across his face.  Obi-Wan grimaced.  Somehow, that didn't help. ********** Obi-Wan looked in the mirror and saw an unfamiliar girl staring out at him.  *"Good grief, is that me?"* he wondered, gently touching the sandy-blond hair that curled alluringly on his shoulders and hung down his back to make sure it wasn't simply a bad dream.  The hairpiece was nearly identical in color with his real hair so the effect was very strange, to him at any rate.  Three small braids just above his ears on either side of his head held the wavy locks out of his face and came together behind his head, falling down his back with the loose hair.  A large, blue bow held the braids on the back of his head.  He made a face.  Did he have to wear a *bow* in his hair?  Well, it could have been worse.  Qui-Gon and Mon Drane had considered dressing him in *pink*... "Don't lick your lip like that," Mon Drane scolded.  "You'll ruin your lipstick." *"Oh, now that would be a disaster,"* Obi-Wan thought sarcastically, but tried to refrain from licking his lips.  It was not usually a habit of his, but the lipstick made them feel unnatural and strange.  Of course, the fake eyelashes were even worse.  They were heavy and it felt like wearing weights on his eyelids.  He was not accustomed to *seeing* his eyelashes and the heavy black in his upper and lower peripheral vision was distracting.  Long gold earrings dangled from his ears, bumping and jostling against his jaw and neck when he turned his head. "There, you look lovely," Mon Drane said appreciatively, adjusting Obi-Wan's new bust-line.  "Not quite classically beautiful I'm afraid," the Cestian shook his head.  "Your features are a little too strong for that, and, if you'll pardon my saying so, you're a little too thick, but if this were a dance, I think you'd have more than a few boys asking you for a turn around the floor," the artist said with a smile.  Obi-Wan was *very* glad this was not a dance.  Qui-Gon nodded his approval.  "Obi-Wan, you look... good." "Thanks," Obi-Wan mumbled, giving his dress an unceremonious pull.  The pantyhose he was wearing were *mighty* uncomfortable.  "Yes," Mon Drane agreed.  "The blue complements his eyes, does it not?  Oh, don't forget the bag," the Cestian added, gesturing to a little blue pouch on the chair.  "No proper young lady goes anywhere without her carry-bag."  Obi-Wan strode quickly over to the chair and picked up the bag.  Was it his imagination or was the Cestian having a little too much fun with this situation? "Oh, no!" Mon Drane groaned in horror as he watched Obi-Wan walk.  "My young friend, you walk all wrong!  You walk like, like a swordsman!" *"No surprise there,"* Obi-Wan thought dryly. "Young ladies do not stomp across the floor like that, you must move more delicately, you must learn to glide across the floor," Mon Drane instructed.  "You walk like that and you'll stick out like a sore thumb!"  The Cestian imitated the kind of walk he wanted Obi-Wan to copy. Obi-Wan tried to follow suit, but ended up over- exaggerating more than slightly.  Qui-Gon suddenly discovered that he needed to leave the room for a moment.  *"Thanks,"* Obi-Wan thought, under no illusions about the reason for his Master's quick departure.  *"At least he didn't laugh in my face..."* Obi-Wan tried again, with more success this time.  "Very good," Mon Drane congratulated.  "But what about your voice?" he asked somewhat doubtfully.  Obi-Wan shrugged; that part was the least of his worries.  "It won't be a problem," he said, speaking softly and using the Force to change the way the Cestian heard him.  "I just won't talk much." Mon Drane raised the cranial ridges that took the place of his eyebrows.  "You talk like that and you won't have to keep quiet.  That's good.  Your apprentice is a very versatile young man Master Jinn," the Cestian told Qui-Gon as the Jedi Master re-entered the room.  Qui-Gon just smiled and nodded, his composure once more under control.  "You won't be able to bring your lightsaber," he informed Obi-Wan.  "I've just found out that there will be a weapons detector at the entrance and we can hardly risk having you searched." Obi-Wan felt naked without his lightsaber, especially in this peculiar get-up, but he knew his Master was right, they couldn't risk it.  "But Master, what if there *is* danger to the Princess?" "Then you will just have to be resourceful Padawan," Qui-Gon said helpfully.  "But the place will be surrounded by guards on the outside and everyone entering is being thoroughly checked, I will be on hand as well, so no serious problem should arise, this is just a precaution." Obi-Wan nodded, resisting to urge to push the hair that curled across his forehead out of his face.  All his life he had had his hair cut short, first as an initiate, and later as a Padawan with the addition of his apprentice's braid, so the feeling of hair brushing against his face, neck and shoulders was an unusual one.  Qui-Gon was probably right he decided.  His biggest worry was going to be avoiding discovery.  "Master, what if someone finds out who I really am?" Obi-Wan asked, pulling on the thin, white gloves that Mon Drane gave him. If caught breaking the sacredness of this event, Obi- Wan would face severe penalties by law; he might even be imprisoned.  "Don't let them find out," was all the advice Qui-Gon offered.  Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.  *That* was helpful.  "All right, you're all ready," Mon Drane proclaimed him done.  "Good, it's time to be going," Qui-Gon glanced at the chronometer on the wall.  "You know how to get there?" Obi-Wan nodded.  "All right, I won't go with you because we don't want to make anyone suspicious, but you know what to do." "Yes, Master," Obi-Wan turned to leave. "Oh, and Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, making the apprentice stop on his way out the door.  "Yes, Master?" "Have fun." "Yes, Master," Obi-Wan's voice dripped sarcasm.  *Sure, this was going to be loads of fun...* PART TWO: At the entrance to the palace, Obi-Wan gave the guards who halted him the fake invitation that Qui-Gon had procured for him.  "Lady Obijeena," the guard welcomed "her" after okaying the invitation.   They bowed politely and let Obi- Wan pass.  The apprentice followed the lushly decorated corridor to the room where the ceremony was to be held.  *Obijeena, couldn't Qui-Gon have come up with something better than that..?*  The room, when he reached it, was huge and filled with dozens, perhaps hundreds of young girls ranging from 13 to 16.  Despite how he was dressed, Obi-Wan felt immediately out of place.  The Jedi quickly shoved aside his discomfort and centered himself.  All these people were a good thing.  In a throng like this, it was highly unlikely that anyone would notice him.  Princess Mareeja sat on a jeweled chair in the center of the room.  She looked very beautiful.  The slate-blue silk dress she wore offset her copper hair in a lovely way. When she moved, the dress glittered and flashed.  Obi- Wan realized that this was because the dress was encrusted with jewels.  Yet, despite her obvious wealth and status, the future Queen's face was a kind one, and held no trace of the kind of snobbery that one might expect from someone of her position.  Obi-Wan already knew from his and Qui- Gon's previous dealings with her that Mareeja's disposition matched her beauty.  He couldn't understand how anyone could want to hurt her. The ceremony itself did not last very long and the rest of the evening was more or less one large girl party.  The girls chatted about this, that and one million other things.  Some of them knew each other, some did not.  Obi-Wan didn't know how they could find so many things to converse about.  Talk ranged from the various merits of they're boyfriends to their parents, to the latest music and fashion.  Having nothing useful to contribute to any of those subjects, Obi-Wan stayed on the fringes and no one paid him any mind.  He could have found many quite intelligent conversations had he tried, but he had no interest in having anyone notice him more than they had to.  He was here to keep an eye on the Princess and that's all he wanted to do.  The girls started playing group games.  Some of them looked quite interesting, but Obi-Wan felt far too out-of- place to join any of them.  Princess Mareeja held her sides, aching from having laughed so hard.  She was enjoying herself thoroughly.  It was rare occasions like this when she could forget all her responsibilities and concerns and be a normal girl.  The only stain on her happiness was the fact that her Mother should have been Master of Ceremonies for her coming of age.  She missed her parents, but it was hard to grieve for people you barely knew.  Schooled off planet and attended by a host of nursemaids and servants to take care of her every need, she had very few memories of her parents being involved in her life, but she felt no resentment over this.  It was simply the way things were.  She had been well taken care of, and even if the day that she would have to ascend the throne had come much earlier than anyone expected, she was ready.  She had been trained her whole life to be ready. The music played on and the other girls were already starting another game.  Looking up, Mareeja saw that girl again, the one in the blue dress.  The Princess had noticed that the girl did not participate in the games, she never seemed to talk to anyone and every time Mareeja saw her, she was alone.  Mareeja felt sorry for the girl.  She was obviously very shy and the Princess felt a little indignant that none of the other guests were making any attempt to make her feel more welcome. The room pulsed and moved to the rhythm of popular Radoon music.  Obi-Wan had lost sight of the Princess in the crowd.  He looked around and found her, heading straight for him.  The girl looked over as Mareeja approached and the Princess got a good look at her for the first time.  Her features were a trifle strong and Mareeja guessed that her blue dress was intentionally as loose and flowing as it was to hide a slightly stout figure, but she had a quiet quality about her that made Mareeja wish that more people would be willing to look past outward appearances.  "Hello," Mareeja greeted.  The girl looked familiar and the Princess was trying to remember where she had seen her before.  Perhaps at a state function? Obi-Wan remembered just in time that he must curtsy, not bow.  "Your Highness," he replied, hoping this outfit really made him look as different as it felt.  "Call me Mareeja, please," the Princess said pleasantly.  "And you are?" "Obijeena if it please you," Obi-Wan addressed her respectfully.  *"Hope you like it better than I do..."* "That's very pretty," Mareeja complimented.  "Why don't you join the game?  It's lots of fun." "I-" Obi-Wan hesitated.  "I don't know how," he evaded, but it was also the truth. "That's okay, you'll learn quick.  It's easy.  Come on, you can be my partner."  Mareeja held out one pretty, well manicured hand in invitation. How could Obi-Wan refuse such a kind invitation?  He hesitantly took her hand, starting to offer some further excuse, but she didn't give him the time.  Clasping his hand she pulled him into the game.  The first few times he stumbled and tripped up, but Mareeja was a good teacher and he was a very quick learner.  By the third time they played "Obijeena" and Mareeja were beating all the other girls hands down.  Tired and hot after playing for well over an hour, Mareeja excused herself from the fun to get a drink.  "We make a good team," she said to Obi-Wan with a smile as he poured them both a drink of some cold, pink beverage.  Obi-Wan nodded, pushing his damp hair out of his face.  He was glad now that Mon Drane had insisted on adhering the hairpiece to his skin rather than just placing it on.  It would take removers to get it off, but at least it would not fall off at some inopportune moment.  Downing the drink thirstily he had to admit that he was having much more fun this evening than he had anticipated.  "Ow, my feet hurt," Mareeja kicked off her high-heeled shoes.  "I knew I shouldn't have worn these, but they looked so nice with the dress."  The Princess half hid behind the refreshment table to conceal her bare feet.  She giggled softly.  "Gee, do you think anyone will notice?" Obi-Wan shrugged.  "Who cares?  No point in being miserable for fashion's sake." Mareeja grinned.  She liked Obijeena, she thought like Mareeja did.  The Princess nudged the sparkly shoes under the tablecloth with her foot.  "I see you were smart enough to wear something comfortable," she commented, glancing at the flat-heeled blue shoes that just peaked out from beneath the hem of Obi-Wan's dress.  Obi-Wan would hardly consider the tight, stiff shoes as comfortable, but he remembered with a smile what had happened when Mon Drane tried to put him in high-heels.  "Let's just say that I admire anyone who can wear those torture devices with as much grace and poise as you do," he said with a wry little smile. Mareeja laughed.  "You get used to it I guess, it's one of those sacrifices we make to fashion.  Still, I think boys have it the easiest.  They don't have to wear silly things like that." Obi-Wan had to agree with her. "You know Obijeena, you seem very familiar to me.  Haven't we met somewhere before?" Mareeja asked thoughtfully. Obi-Wan's heart sped up a little.  Of course Mareeja had seen him before.  He and Qui-Gon had been protecting her for the past two days.  Although he had had little actual interaction with her personally, they had certainly seen each other.  "I don't think so your Highness," he shook his head.  "But I know what you mean, I feel as if I've met you before as well."  Obi-Wan felt a little guilty about lying to her like that, but in a way it was true, Mareeja hadn't met *Obijeena* before tonight.  "Where do you live?" Mareeja wanted to know.  "Far away," Obi-Wan said absently as if he didn't really care to talk about it.  He didn't.  "I won't be here in Roonda for long." "Ah," Mareeja nodded sympathetically, thinking she understood what he meant.  "I understand.  I was sent to school off-planet as well.  It kind of makes you feel like a stranger in your own home, or, as if you have no home.  Do you know what I mean Obijeena?" Obi-Wan did know what she meant, more than she could understand.  He had no permanent ties other than Qui-Gon and the Jedi, he had no stationary place to call home.  "Yes, I do," he answered truthfully.  "But I have found that home is really a matter of where your heart is, not so much a place, as a feeling..." he trailed off, realizing he was saying much more than he had intended to say.  Mareeja smiled at him warmly.  "You are so right.  It's funny, but somehow, I feel that you understand me better than anyone else here.  I'm glad to have met you Obijeena.  Will you come and visit me again, after tonight I mean?  I would take great pleasure in spending more time with you." "I'll try," Obi-Wan hedged slightly.  "Unfortunately I really won't be here long," he repeated. "Well, we'll have to write then," Mareeja said, not so easily put off.  Before Obi-Wan could reply a servant droid interrupted them.  "Forgive me your Highness, but Prime Minister Bosh has requested your immediate presence in the stateroom," the silver droid informed them. Mareeja sighed.  "Business before pleasure, so it is always.  All right Three-Dee, I'm coming."  She slid her shoes back on.  "I'm sorry Obijeena, you'll have to excuse me for a few minutes.  I'll be right back." Obi-Wan nodded and the Princess left, followed by the droid.  Obi-Wan hesitated, wondering what he should do.  It mighty be risky to follow the Princess, but something in him was just not comfortable with this turn of events.  What did the Prime Minister want with the Princess so urgently that he would interrupt her party? Sliding out of the room unnoticed he quietly followed Mareeja.  Once outside the great hall where the party was being held, the droid left and two guards fell into step behind the young, soon-to-be monarch as she made her way quickly to the stateroom.  Obi-Wan could read concern in her.  She too wondered what could be so important as to warrant this intrusion on one of the most significant days of her life.  It could not be good.  The doors to the stateroom were opened for the Princess and she passed through them, the guards following her in.  There was no one on guard outside the doors, so Obi-Wan crept up to them, pressing his ear against their deep mahogany panels.  He could not hear anything through the thick wooden doors so he stretched out with the Force instead.  Something felt very wrong to him somehow. PART THREE: Mareeja entered the stateroom.  The heavy wood doors swung shut behind her and for some reason, the sound made her jump, just a little.  She looked around.  "Where is Prime Minister Bosh?" she asked the guards.  There did not seem to be anyone in the room.  "He was unable to make it your Highness," the guard on her right said, calmly drawing his blaster and pointing it at her chest.  Mareeja felt her heart jump up into her throat and start hammering wildly.  "Wh-what is the meaning of this?!" she demanded, backing up.  She tried to be angry and commanding but her voice wavered, betraying the panic that was sweeping through her. The other guard caught her from behind, clapping his hand over her mouth and wrapping his other arm about her waist. The first guard pressed his blaster against her temple.  "Don't make a sound your Highness, and you won't get hurt," he half threatened, half promised. Mareeja did not believe him.  She was sure these men intended to kill her just as her parents had been killed.  She began struggling fiercely, trying to break away from them.  The man with the blaster struck her a violent blow behind her ear with the barrel of his weapon and the Princess sagged in her captor's arms, dazed. Lights danced across her vision and a loud buzzing filled her ears.  The last thing she remembered was seeing Obijeena burst through the doors.  *"No, Obijeena!  They'll kill you too!  Get out of here!"* she thought desperately for a moment before another blow rendered the young lady unconscious.  Outside, Obi-Wan had felt Mareeja's sudden surge of terror.  Pushing against the door he had found it locked.  The Force took care of that in a matter of moments.  He burst into the room just as one of the "guards" clubbed the Princess, knocking her out cold.  The traitorous guard held his weapon to Mareeja's head, daring Obi-Wan to try something.  "Better not make any sudden moves or loud sounds," he warned.  "Or her Highness dies." Obi-Wan hesitated, quickly running through his options.  If he could somehow distracted them for a moment, just enough to get that blaster away from Mareeja's head, then he knew he stood a pretty fair chance.  There were only two of them.  A large picture of the previous King and Queen, hanging on the wall behind the two men and the unconscious Princess, caught the apprentice's attention.  "What do you want?  What's going on?  What have you done to the Princess?" Obi-Wan bought time, playing his persona and allowing his voice to quaver as if he were afraid.  Through the Force he gave the wire the picture hung on a nudge, sliding it off the hook... The picture fell with a thud, causing the two traitors to, predictably, look over their shoulders and see what caused the noise.  Obi-Wan sprang into action.  Snatching the blaster away from the first guard he ducked an ill thought of swing, causing the Princess' two assailants to collide with one another.  Things were going well until suddenly, a blaster bolt came out of nowhere, scorching the floor by his feet as he jumped aside, only just in time.  He realized too late that they were no longer alone in the room.  Somewhere near a dozen men had materialized, seemingly out of nowhere.  Obi-Wan stopped.  Without his lightsaber, he could not hope to fight that many men at such close range and still keep both he and the unconscious Princess safe and alive.  "That's it, be a good girl," one of the men said, stepping out of the shadows.  The leader snapped his fingers and one of his men took Obi-Wan's arms, binding his wrists together tightly behind his back. "Seems we've got a real spitfire here," the leader said in mock appreciation, running the back of his hand under Obi-Wan's jaw, tipping the young Jedi's head up slightly.  There was a leer in the man's dark grey eyes that Obi-Wan had never had directed at *him* before.  For a moment, he felt very glad that he was not really a girl.  The Padawan met the leader's gaze with a defiant glare. The leader seemed momentarily taken aback by the strength with which Obi-Wan met his look.  "You've got a lot of spirit young lady," he said. "It's too bad you had to see this, now we've got to either kill you or take you."  He seemed to consider that for a moment.  "We'll take her for now," he said, directing the statement to his men.  "If we leave bodies laying around they'll catch on sooner that something's up.  Besides, the Boss wouldn't be happy.  We can always kill her later, if she becomes too much trouble," he directed a meaningful glare in Obi-Wan's direction.  A gag was slipped over Obi-Wan's mouth and a blaster jabbed in his back.  "I'm only going to warn you once girl," the leader threatened.  "Don't try anything unless you want to shorten what may already be a very brief life.  We don't *need* you," the man made himself clear. Obi-Wan got the message quite plainly, but he read more out of it than the man had intended.  *They didn't need him, but that meant they *did* need the Princess.  Why?  If they simply wanted her out of the way, why not kill her?*  It raised more questions than it answered unfortunately, but Obi-Wan would take anything he could get.  One of the men moved a statue in a trophy case, which stood against the wall, and the large display cabinet swung forward, revealing a hidden door.  *That's how they got in here,* Obi-Wan realized.  No doubt this passage would take them all the way out of the Palace without anyone seeing them.  A brief shudder of realization ran up the apprentice's spine.  His captors made no attempt to keep him from seeing what they were doing, yet this hidden entrance was, no doubt, a carefully guarded secret.  That meant they had no intention of ever letting him go alive.  The thought was not exactly a surprise, and it hardly frightened him, but it did deepen his determination that he was going to have to find a way to get the Princess out of this, the sooner, the better. Obi-Wan wondered how long it would be before anyone even noticed Mareeja was missing.  If the girls back at the party asked, they would likely be told she was called away on business, as that was what everyone had been told, but it would probably be a long time before they even noticed she was gone.  They would doubtless keep partying and wait for her to return.  Everyone else meanwhile, would think the Princess was still in her party, which no one dared to interrupt.  It could be hours until her absence was discovered.  It was a perfect plan, Obi-Wan realized with a touch of despair.  They would be long gone before anyone even knew they were missing.  *"Master,"* Obi-Wan called out to Qui-Gon silently as the men pushed him through the secret door.  His link with Qui-Gon was his only hope of alerting anyone to their situation.  *"Master, we're in trouble..."* PART FOUR: Qui-Gon stood, motionless, but watchful in one of the outer halls of the Palace.  The Princess' party had been going on for hours.  The faint touch of a grin tugged at his lips as he wondered what kind of time his Padawan was having in there. Something in the Jedi Master was uneasy.  His body was calm, but his mind was on the alert.  He had told Obi-Wan that he did not fear danger this evening, but now he wondered if he had been wrong.  Everything *seemed* quiet enough, but he could not rest easy. All at once he heard Obi-Wan's voice call to him, unmistakable, clear, and urgent.  *"Master, we're in trouble.  You've got to come at once, help us Master!"* Qui-Gon refused to allow his stomach to tighten into the knot that it wanted to, forcing himself to be calm instead.  *"Where are you Obi-Wan?  What's happened?"* he called back, searching the Force for his Padawan's presence, his legs already carrying him towards the Stateroom as he traced Obi-Wan's signal. *********** *"Where are you Obi-Wan?  What's happened?"* Obi-Wan was relieved to hear Qui-Gon answer him.  Before he could reply the men prodding him along the narrow, dimly lit passage stopped suddenly.  "This is as far as you need to see girly," one of the abductors said roughly.  Wrapping an arm around Obi-Wan's waist, another man pressed a folded cloth over the apprentice's nose and mouth. Obi-Wan felt the material press against his face, smelt the distinctive smell of the drug it was soaked with, felt the chemicals sting his throat and lungs as they forced him to breath it. *"NO!"* Obi-Wan's mind screamed as his vision blurred and his knees went weak.  Further along in his training, Obi-Wan would have known how to center, how to hold his breath and use the Force to conserve the oxygen that his body had and therefore stave off the effects of the drug for a long time, but the young apprentice was not yet so skilled. Obi-Wan battled the unconsciousness that was slowly creeping over him with all his strength, but it was a losing fight.  Attempting to hold his breath, Obi-Wan struggled fiercely with the men holding him, but the drug was already in his system, slowing his responses and rendering his attempts ineffective.  The kidnappers just laughed and held him still while the drug took effect. Too late, Obi-Wan realized that by struggling he was hastening the effects of the already potent drug.  As icy unconsciousness claimed him, the Padawan calmed his mind enough to send one last image to Qui-Gon.  Whether the Master received it or not, he did not know because the whirling blackness before his eyes pulled him under and he slumped senseless in the kidnapper's arms.  ********* The tension in Qui-Gon's stomach solidified into an icy jab of fear.  Something had alarmed Obi-Wan.  *"NO!"* he heard a note of panic in his apprentice's mental voice but the cry was not directed at Qui-Gon. *"Obi-Wan!"* the Master struggled to make contact again.  *"Obi-Wan!  Where are you?!"*  This time, there was no answer.  A strange, half-confused image of a fish-like creature flashed through his mind for an instant.  A moment later, he lost hold of his Padawan's presence.  *"Obi-Wan!"* he fairly shouted.  *"Obi-Wan!"* but he received no answer and found only emptiness.  His pace slowed to a walk, no longer sure of where he was heading now that his tie with Obi-Wan had been broken. He found himself standing before the tall, heavy doors of the stateroom.  The door stood slightly ajar and probing it led Qui-Gon to believe that someone had very recently used the Force to open it, probably Obi-Wan.  What was he doing here, so far from the party?  Qui-Gon knew that Obi- Wan would not have left the Princess, and the Padawan had said "*We're* in trouble, help *us*."  With a sigh, the Jedi Master realized that whatever had happened to Obi-Wan, happened to the Princess as well.  He scanned the room, but saw no trace of anyone present, although he discovered a blaster burn on the floor when he nudged aside a throw rug with his foot.  Obi-Wan and Mareeja had definitely been here, but where were they now?  He didn't know. Going back out into the hall and pressing a wall button Qui-Gon summoned Palace Security. PART FIVE: Obi-Wan awoke with a killer headache.  His hands were bound behind his back and he was lying on a very hard, very cold surface.  His eyelids felt heavy and his lips stuck together like glue, but as his mind slowly surfaced back into reality he realized that was because he was still wearing fake eyelashes and lipstick.  Opening his reluctant eyes with an effort, he found that he was lying on his side on the floor of a large room.  Also bound, but awake, Mareeja sat on the floor nearby with her back against the wall.  The Princess' jaw was set and there was a defiant glint in her eye, but Obi-Wan could tell that just under the surface she was very frightened.  On the other side of the room, between the prisoners and the door, about five or six armed men were involved in a game of chance, dividing their attention between the cards they played and the alcohol they drank. Obi-Wan lifted his head, assessing his situation.  His long hair tumbled in his face and his dress was tangled up around his ankles, but apparently, no one had discovered his identity.  He tried to decide how he could best use that to his advantage.  They would almost definitely underestimate him, but only once.  He was going to have to plan whatever he did carefully.  It was likely that he would only get one shot. "Obijeena!" Mareeja whispered when she saw Obi-Wan moving.  The relief in her voice told how glad she was, both that her friend was all right and that she was no longer alone. Obi-Wan sat up and attempted to still his pounding head.  Scooting over he leaned against the wall next to her.  "Are you all right your Highness?" he asked, and then coughed to cover the fact that he had forgotten to change his voice.  Hemming and hawing he pretended to be clearing the effects of having been drugged out of his throat.  "I mean, are you all right?" he asked again, in his female voice this time.  For right now, it was better to have *everyone* go on thinking that he was a girl.  He would have to tell the Princess the truth later, when he knew how he was going to get them out of this. Mareeja nodded.  "I've got a pounding headache, but otherwise, I'm okay.  Are you all right?" Obi-Wan nodded, leaning his head against the wall.  "I'm fine, but I understand what you mean about the headache." "I'm sorry you got mixed up in this Obijeena," Mareeja apologized sadly.  "Now we'll both die.  You should have stayed away." "What, and let you have all the fun?" Obi-Wan attempted to cheer her up a little.  Mareeja actually smiled.  "Well, at least I won't have to worry about attending any more boring affairs of state," she said softly. Obi-Wan realized that the Princess was certain they were both going to be killed.   "You may have to yet," he encouraged.  "The future is not set in stone.  They haven't killed us yet, even thought they could have, let's wait and see what happens." "Do you really think we could get out of here?" Mareeja asked doubtfully.  "I don't even know where we are or what's outside this room." "Neither do I," Obi-Wan admitted.  "But I'd rather die trying, than just give up.  If we look closely enough, a way will present itself." Mareeja nodded slowly, feeling a little bit of hope again.  "I guess you're right." "Stop that whispering over there!" one of their guards shouted from the other side of the room.  The man rose to his feet.  "They look like they're up to something," he said suspiciously to his companions.  "Move further apart you two, no talking," he commanded, crossing the room to stand before the captives.  "I said move," he gave Obi-Wan a hard shove with his boot-clad foot, kicking the apprentice none too gently in the ribs when the 'girls' did not move fast enough to suit him.  Grabbing the two prisoners by the shoulders he attempted to shove them apart. "Keep your hands off us!" Mareeja demanded imperiously, without thinking.  "Oh," the man smiled unpleasantly.  "Yes, your Highness, whatever you say your Highness," he mocked.  He half knelt, half crouched beside the Princess.  "Keep my hands off, you mean, not touch like this?" he said, sliding one of Mareeja's dress straps off her shoulder.  "Leave me alone!" Mareeja demanded angrily, trying to scoot away from him. Obi-Wan felt her ripple of panic when the man did not back off, but trapped her against the wall.  The man smiled cruelly and reached for her other dress strap.  Rolling over quickly, Obi-Wan put himself between Mareeja and the slightly inebriated guard.  "Don't touch her," he said with quiet force, trying to make his words carry into the man's mind.  But the Radoonian's brain, although fuzzy with liquor, was too well ordered for Obi- Wan to command.  The guard slapped Obi-Wan across the face with the back of his hand.  "You know girl, you make yourself more trouble than you're worth," he threatened, grabbing Obi- Wan's shoulders and pinning him forcefully against the wall.  "Maybe I should teach you a lesson," he said, leaning uncomfortably close to the Padawan.  *"Yuck!"* was all Obi-Wan could think or feel for a moment as the man tried to kiss him.  The Padawan pulled his head away with a defiant twist.  This was soooo stupid.  The man jerked him sideways, pushing Obi-Wan to the floor.  A flush that Obi-Wan did not have time to control made his face hot with embarrassment.  He could get this goon off him any time he chose, but did not yet wish to reveal his true strength to them.  He was thinking of a trickier way to do it when Mareeja started kicking the man in the side.  In the easily vacillating mood the guard was in, Obi-Wan knew it was only a matter of moments before his anger, and his attention swung back towards the Princess.  Obi-Wan did not want that to happen.  He would rather get himself in trouble with them than let them hurt Mareeja. Bringing his knees up sharply into his assailant's groin he pulled himself free of the man's arms, rolling away and sitting up.  It was a maneuver that took nothing out of the ordinary, but he knew it was also likely to make the fellow furious as heck.  He was right. "Why you little..!" the man growled in rage as he pulled himself up off the floor.  Stalking over to Obi-Wan, he grabbed him by the hair, backhanding him again and shaking him violently. Obi-Wan was once again glad that Mon Drane had insisted on *gluing* the wig to him. The door slid open and the leader entered.  "Danto, what's going on?" he asked calmly, but with a tone that warned against being trifled with.  He quickly took in the Princess' rumpled attire and the lipstick that smudged the guard's mouth and cheek. Danto scowled, but did not release Obi-Wan's hair.  "This brat's making trouble again sir," he responded, giving Obi-Wan a contemptuous shake.  "Are you sure *you* weren't making trouble Danto?" the leader asked quietly.  Danto bristled. "He tried to attack us!" Mareeja put in indignantly.  "I don't know who you are or what you want, but when you're caught, you'll pay for this!  You can tell my Uncle he'll never pull this off!" she raged, as much frightened as angry. The leader just smiled infuriatingly.  "I wouldn't talk about paying your Highness.  Payment is expensive, and the toll heavy.  As for your dear Uncle, well, we've gotten away with it before, now haven't we?" Princess Mareeja bit her lip at the callus way in which the man talked about her parents' murder.  "Murderers!" she spat, tears in her periwinkle eyes.  "Filthy, bloody murderers!" The leader looked singularly unconcerned with the Princess' opinion of them.  "Leave her Highness alone Danto," he instructed, directing his attention towards the guard once more.  "That goes for all of you," he informed the rest of his men present.  "What about her?" Danto asked, giving Obi-Wan a shake when he saw that his boss was about to leave.  "Oh yes, our little spitfire eh?" the leader grinned. "I don't care what you do with her.  If she makes trouble, punish her, but go easy.  Remember," he mocked, "She's just a child."  *"Thanks,"* Obi-Wan thought dryly as the leader left.  *"I'm going to have to find a way out of this and fast."* "A child huh?" Danto jeered.  "Don't look like it to me, but maybe he's got something there, huh guys?" Obi-Wan did not like the way the other guards laughed at this. Danto pulled Obi-Wan over to the table the guards had previously been playing cards upon.  Sitting down in a chair he gave a jerk on Obi-Wan's arm, suddenly pulling the boy down across his lap.  The other guards helped hold 'her' there.  Pulling off his belt Danto gave Obi-Wan a stiff thrashing.  When he finally stopped, they dumped Obi-Wan back in the corner.  Thankfully, this turn of events seemed to have been enough amusement for them and even Danto forgot his more sinister intentions of earlier.  The guards returned to their card games, leaving their captives, at least for the moment, in peace. Obi-Wan tried to cool his burning face, but without much success.  Danto had embarrassed him far more than he hurt him.  "Are you okay?" Mareeja asked with genuine sympathy.  Obi-Wan nodded, not quite able to meet her eyes.  "Are you sure?" she prodded, still being sensitive, but unwilling to let her friend hide things from her. "I'm fine," Obi-Wan had to resist mumbling.  "It didn't really hurt," he fibbed a little.  "It's just..." "Embarrassing," Mareeja finished for him, giving him an understanding look. Obi-Wan nodded.  He felt so foolish.  He was a Jedi apprentice, what in the world was he doing here, dressed like this, having these things happen to him?  It was so frustrating to know that he had the ability to best everyone in that room and yet have to subject himself to their whims that way. "I can't stand being so helpless," he really hadn't meant to say it out loud, but Mareeja did not hold it against him, even if she took it differently than he meant it.  "I know, I feel the same way, or, I did.  You gave me hope a little bit ago Obijeena, don't let go of it yourself.  They want to embarrass you, they want you to feel helpless, don't let them.  Don't let them win," the Princess encouraged sincerely. Obi-Wan smiled.  He was not giving up hope, he had merely been feeling a little sorry for himself, but Mareeja's words were meant kindly, so he took them that way.  Looking at her, he remembered why he was here, dressed like this, letting these things happen to him.  He was doing it to protect her, to do whatever he could to see the Princess safely returned to her home and her throne.  He would give his life for that if he had to, not only because he was a Jedi and it was his duty, but because in this short time, Mareeja had become more than just his assignment, she had become his friend.  Obi-Wan thought hard.  There were pieces here; he just had to put them together.  He shifted to his knees, finding sitting to be most uncomfortable right now.  Slowly, an idea started coming together.  It was a desperate gamble, but he was betting that they did not have much time.  "Mareeja," he whispered, dropping his voice even lower than before.  "I have an idea.  It's pretty risky, but it might work.  What do you say?" "I say anything is worth a try.  Tell me your plan." PART SIX: "Excuse me," Mareeja interrupted the guard's game.  "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom." "Me too," Obi-Wan, by her side, chimed in. "Yeah, yeah," the guards groaned at the interruption.  "One at a time.  Come on your Highness, you first." "No, I can't wait!" Obi-Wan protested. "Okay then, you first," the guards were becoming seriously annoyed. "I can't wait either!" Mareeja put on her best complaining tone.  Both of them started talking at once and the combined whine was truly nerve grating.  "All right, all right!" the guards gave in.  "Estrad, Danto, Michal, Gordo, take them both." Obi-Wan and Mareeja exchanged a secret smile of satisfaction as the guards escorted them out the door.  The guards were a little more careless than they should have been, and they let the prisoners get ahead of them a little bit.  Obi-Wan gave Mareeja the barest of nods.  Mareeja suddenly stumbled and fell.  Clutching her ankle as if in great pain she started howling.  Just loud enough to disconcert their guards, but not enough so to bring anyone else around to investigate the noise. For an instant, all their attention was on Mareeja.  It was all Obi-Wan needed. A few quick moves and he had all the guards' blasters out of their holsters before they knew what was happening.  Dodging a swing he quickly set them all to stun and tossed two to Mareeja.  He hoped she could figure out how to use them.  About a minute and a half later, all four guards lay senseless on the floor.  Mareeja was breathing hard; this was quite a bit more adventure than she was used to.  "You're good at this Obijeena!  However did you get their blasters so fast?" she asked in admiration as they slid quickly and quietly down the hall. "Um, I've had some training," he answered truthfully.  "I'll tell you about it later." They came to a place where the passage joined a larger hallway. "Which way do we go?" Mareeja asked uncertainly.  Obi-Wan hesitated in thought. "Hey, you!" a voice shouted from up the hall on their right.  Several men rounded the corner, spotting them. "Well, I guess that takes care of that question!" Obi- Wan said, grabbing Mareeja's hand and sprinting down the hall to the left.  Fortunately for them, the building they were being held in was a small one and when they burst out through the door at the end of the hall they found themselves outside.  An electric fence surrounded the yard.  The men behind them had nearly caught up and now, about seven more men were coming at a run from far end of the yard.  They didn't have much time. Dodging blaster bolts from a distance, they scrambled towards the fence.  Obi-Wan decided he would have to levitate them over it.  How he was going to do that while being shot at he did not know.  As they neared the fence he paused for a moment to return fire.  When he turned back, his blood ran cold.  Mareeja obviously did not realize that the fence was an electric one.  She reached up to get a hold, preparing to climb over it.  "No!  Mareeja, don't!" Obi-Wan screamed, but it was too late.  With an upward jump, Mareeja caught hold of the metal links, pushing the pointy toes of her high-heeled shoes into the large mesh. Obi-Wan cringed in horrible anticipation, his legs pumping to bring him to her side and... nothing happened.  The fence was not turned on.  Obi-Wan did not stop to ponder the reason for this oversight, but grabbed hold and made his own way over it double quick.  Once on the other side, they found that they were very literally in the middle of nowhere.  Wherever their abductors had taken them, it was deep in the Radoon jungle.  Pushing his way through the brush and vines, Obi-Wan led Mareeja in a direction he hoped would eventually get them somewhere.  At least for right now, it got them away from their former prison.  The pair ran through the trees for a good long time until they realized they were not being followed.  Mareeja slowed to a trot, unable to run anymore. "Obijeena, they're not following us anymore," she gasped as she flopped down to sit on a rock.  "Either we lost them, or they figure we'll die on our own in the middle of this wilderness." Obi-Wan wiped his brow.  She was right.  They were no longer being followed, now they just had to find a way out of this jungle before it proved to be a more dangerous enemy than the assassins.  Obi-Wan sat down too.  The escape bothered him just a bit.  It had almost been too easy.  They had better be watchful.  A banging sound made him look over at the Princess.  Mareeja had taken her shoes off and was hammering at the high, pointy heels with a rock.  "I can't possibly go any further in these," she explained.  "But I don't know if it's safe to walk through these woods barefoot."  Obi-Wan helped her and soon they had both heels off.  The curve of the shoe was a little awkward without the heels to justify it, but it was easier than walking on spike-heels across the soft, uneven terrain.  After they had rested a while, Mareeja stood wearily.  "Well, I guess we better get moving.  Which way do we go?" "Let's head west.  We can aim towards the sun that way to make sure we don't go round in circles," Obi-Wan said, also rising.  "Yes," Mareeja agreed dryly.  "At all cost let's do avoid that.  But it's hard to see the sun in some places." "We'll just have to work around that," Obi-Wan sighed.  "Let's go." ************** Qui-Gon was in the stateroom again.  Security had been all over the room and found nothing save the blast mark that he had already discovered, and yet, somehow Qui-Gon felt sure that this place held some further clue for him, if only he was still enough to find it.  He checked the walls, the floor, the ceiling... nothing.  Everything turned up just as void of clues as it had the last time he'd searched, and the time before that.  Yet this was the last definite place that there was any record of the Princess heading, at least if the droid could be believed.  More than that, he felt sure that this is where Obi-Wan's signal had been leading him until it was terminated.  How, or why it was terminated he did not allow himself to think about.  The boy was alive somewhere, he knew that.  And if Obi-Wan was alive, it was a good bet the Princess was too, but there was no guarantee how long they were going to *stay* that way. *Why where they alive at all?*  He wondered.  If it were indeed the same person or persons who had murdered the last rulers, why was the Princess not already dead? So many questions, so few answers. Qui-Gon leaned wearily against a tall, glass-plated display case.  He had barely slept since Princess Mareeja and his Padawan had disappeared two days ago.  Suddenly he felt something, like a trace, or a faint memory, only one that was not his.  Obi-Wan had been here.  He had stood right in that very spot and he had felt... not afraid, but leery.  Qui-Gon latched on to that and tried to probe it deeper, but that was all it was, a lingering memory in the Force, like an odor.  Proof that someone had been there, but no clue to what happened after.  So close and yet so far. His comlink beeped. "Jinn here," he answered, thumbing the comlink on. "This Mon Drane Master Jinn," the voice on the other end identified herself.  "Sorry to bother you, but I still have your Padawan's clothes here." Qui-Gon remonstrated himself for having forgotten to retrieve them before now.  "Don't you want me to do removal job?  Or has Obi-Wan decided that he likes his new look that much?" the Cestian asked, the smile evident in his voice. Qui-Gon felt someone approach and looked up as the Prime Minister entered the room.  "I'm sorry Mon Drane, I can't talk now.  I'll see you later to take care of things."  Qui-Gon turned the comlink off, replacing it on his belt. "Master Jinn," Prime Minister Bosh greeted.  "I hope I am not disturbing you?  Who were you talking to?" "Just, a friend," Qui-Gon replied, giving a nodded bow to the diplomat. "Ah, well, I see I find you here again.  Have you found anything that our teams have missed?" Bosh wanted to know. "No," Qui-Gon shook his head.  "Not yet, yet I am certain the Princess was here, and that whatever attack took place to capture her, took place in this room.  It is how she was taken out of the Palace without being detected after this point that puzzles me," he admitted.  "Indeed," the Prime Minister stroked his double chin.  "Do you suppose the kidnappers had inside help?  That some of our staff was in on it and provided them with a safe passage in and out?" he queried. "I think it is a definite possibility," Qui-Gon assented.  "What about the Princess' notion, that her Uncle was behind her parent's death?  Do you think he is behind this as well?" Bosh asked cautiously, knowing he was treading on dangerous ground.  Warren Dejabold was a powerful, if not well liked, man. "I do not know," Qui-Gon shook his head.  "Just as with so many things, the answer to that question has not yet made itself apparent.  I have not yet been able to speak to Mr. Dejabold yet, his staff inform me he is away." "Convenient," Prime Minister Bosh snorted.  "Excuse me," he apologized.  "It is not my place to speak that way.  I am merely concerned for Princess Mareeja." Qui-Gon just inclined his head.  They were all a little stressed.  Still, it was no secret that Warren Dejabold held no love for either his late sister and brother-in-law or his niece.  He stood to gain the most from this.  Even if Mareeja did was not killed, but showed up any later than coronation day, the day after tomorrow, it would still be disastrous, and there was still a chance that she could lose the rulership to her conniving Uncle.  Yet why was he not here?  Surely it would have looked less suspicious for him to be present to deny accusations while all this was occurring.  One more thing that didn't make sense, Qui-Gon added it to the quickly lengthening list that had become his day. PART SEVEN: Mareeja could not go anymore.  Obi-Wan was pretty tired too.  Walking in these shoes was terrible.  How he longed for his boots and normal Jedi robes.  At least it gave him an appreciation for what the Princess was going through.  He looked at her.  Somewhere during the day's trek she had fallen and ended up in a rather icky mud hole.  Her skin and jewel-encrusted gown were both covered in partially dried mud and slime.  Her hair clung to her face, plastered down by sweat and dirt.  Next to her, Obi-Wan looked pretty good.  His hair was mussed, but the wig held its shape better than normal hair did, and his dress had made it through this adventure in a far better state of repair.  All this however, did very little to brighten Obi-Wan's day.  They had walked for hours, but come no closer to any visible end to this jungle.  He had no idea what day this was or how much time had passed since they were abducted.  And other than keep walking, he had no idea what they were going to do.  "Just a little further?" he urged Mareeja. "I'll try," she offered bravely, limping on again.  For being royalty, she really was taking this all quite well. Up ahead, they both became aware of the delicious sound of water.  Heading for it, they were very happy to find a deep, wide stream cutting through the unyielding jungle.  Kicking off their shoes they let the cool water sooth their aching feet and splashed it on their faces.  After he drank his fill, Obi-Wan looked at the sky.  It was a good hour before dusk would set in, but he knew Mareeja was exhausted and could not keep his pace.  They could probably stay here for the night.  "Why don't we camp here?" he suggested, and the Princess was hardly about to disagree.  Obi-Wan went to gather some dry wood to make a fire with.  They had no food, but they could at least have a little warmth.  You would think it would be easy to find wood in the middle of a forest, but not so.  Most of the wood that was not still attached to the trees were too decomposed and rotted to be useful, but he managed to gather a small pile. Heading back he placed the wood on the ground and got to work starting a fire.  Then he looked around and wondered where Mareeja was. "Mareeja?  Princess Mareeja?" he called, starting to look about.  "I'll be up in a minute," she called from down by the stream.  "Okay."  He got back to the fire.  He was trying to figure out how he was going to tell Mareeja what he knew he must tell her.  He did not want to keep his true identity from her anymore, but he was afraid it was going to be difficult to tell her the truth.  He was afraid that she would think he had lied to her, and that everything he had said to her was a lie, but he knew he had to do it.  He liked her too much to go on living a lie with her.  After a few minutes he had a cheery little blaze going.  Sitting back he was just beginning to wonder if he should go see if Mareeja was all right when he felt her coming up the hill.  He looked up, and then wished he hadn't.  Mareeja had obviously just taken a bath in the stream to wash away the mud from her body and hair.  She must have washed her dress too, only separately... "Uh, Mareeja," Obi-Wan looked away, his face once more flushing and his ears turning read.  "What did you do with your dress?" "It was a mess, I've got it hanging out to dry.  I don't think it'll ever be the same again though, not even dear Mrs. Brism can fix this one I'm afraid," she laughed softly, totally unaware of Obi-Wan's embarrassment at her state of undress. "The water's really nice, you should take a bath.  I'll hold your things for you.  Yours aren't dirty like mine were," Mareeja offered kindly. Obi-Wan coughed violently into his hand.  "Uh, no, not really, no.  I'd rather not." "Whatever," Mareeja shrugged.  She settled down with her back against a tree.  "It's funny," she said wistfully.  "For a few moments I almost wish that I could stay here, free like this, and never have to return to the Palace or any of that responsibility.  Sounds horrible of me I guess," she said sadly. "No," Obi-Wan shook his head, looking her in the eyes and nowhere else.  "It's not horrible.  We all want to escape sometimes.  What we have to remember is that while duty calls us, it also fulfils us.  An easy life is not always a fulfilling one." Mareeja laughed.  "Well, if that's the rule than I guess we both should be pretty happy with our lives right now."  She leaned her head back, looking up at the sky, just barely visible through the canopy of trees above them.  "What are we going to do Obijeena?" she asked with a sigh.  "We're going to make it," Obi-Wan said with conviction.  "And," he added, hastily rising.  "I'm going to go get some more firewood."  He was gone for a very long time, but it had little to do with the availability of firewood this time.  When he came back he was relieved to find the Princess fully clothed once more.  Night came and the stars rose in the hidden sky.  The fire burned low as they lay down to sleep, huddled together for warmth, and, on Mareeja's part, for security.  Obi-Wan felt Mareeja at last relax in sleep.  He blew out his breath and it made her hair ripple gently.  There was no way he could tell her now.  She would be mortally embarrassed.  Yet someday she would find out.  What was he going to do?  He didn't know.  Right now, he was going to sleep. **************** Qui-Gon sat with a straight back and composed look, which was more than several of the other diplomats could manage at this time of the evening and with such a long meeting presented in such a dry manner.  The Jedi Master sat at a long table in one of the numerous meeting rooms of the Palace, listening to the officials do their business.  The only really important business that had been done was to declare Warren Dejabold as Regent in Mareeja's absence.  After that, a good deal of the meeting, had, of course, had to do largely with the missing Princess, the efforts being made to find her and what course of action would be necessary if she were not recovered in time for the coronation.  During all that discussion, Qui-Gon had kept a keen eye on the new Regent, who had returned from his trip sometime that afternoon.  If he was involved in his niece's kidnapping, he gave no indication, no hint of nervousness or other emotion that Qui-Gon could discern. Indeed, he watched the whole proceeding in a calm, detached manner.  Qui-Gon could sense no direct evil in him, just a great deal of distance.  That did not necessarily mean anything however.  The meeting had dragged on now to other subjects that concerned Qui-Gon little, or not at all, and he allowed his eyes to wonder across the shelves of trophies, knick-knacks and oddities that adorned the shelves and mantles of wall he sat facing.  His gaze drifted, not settling on anything in particular, but if you had asked him, he could have recounted every detail of the wall to you with perfect accuracy. Something he had seen grabbed his attention and he back up to find it again.  There, sitting on a mantle piece, was a chronometer.  There was nothing very unusual about that, but the clock's case was shaped like a strange, fish-like creature that Qui-Gon had never seen before, and yet, he had seen it before...  That last image he had seen after he lost Obi-Wan's presence, he had discounted it as nonsense, but that was exactly what it looked like, only without the chronometer in the middle... Qui-Gon waited with barely contained impatience until the meeting was at last over and the diplomats were dismissed.  Making his way to the mantle, he studied the chronometer.  "Do you like that clock?" Warren Dejabold asked casually, standing behind Qui-Gon. "It's unusual," Qui-Gon said neutrally.  "What kind of creature is that?" "It's a Ferviot, a mythical beast from our folklore.  It is also the symbol of my house," Regent Dejabold answered. "I thought the royal symbol was that of the Three Suns of Unity," Qui-Gon said, referring to the trio of circles that made up the crests that he had so often seen Mareeja wear.  "It is," Dejabold corrected.  "That is the emblem of the *royal* house and only the direct descendants may wear it.  The Ferviot is for those of us who were not fortunate enough to be born a woman," the Regent's voice dripped with sarcasm.  Qui-Gon knew that, by tradition, the throne of Radoon was always passed down to the first-born daughter.  "I see," was all he said.  He continued to consider the clock, wondering what all this meant.  Obi-Wan had sent him that picture, before this he had written it off as a confused garble that had occurred when their connection was severed, but now he knew better.  It must mean something, but what?  Had Obi-Wan been trying to tell him that whoever took them was working for Mareeja's uncle?  That they wore his crest? "You know Master Jinn," Dejabold interrupted his thoughts.  "I'm a little surprised at you.  I thought for sure you'd be all over me as soon as the meeting was over." "What do you mean?" Qui-Gon asked. Dejabold laughed a short, hard laugh.  "I know what everyone says about me.  They all think I'm responsible for this, I can see it in their eyes, hear it in the whispers that they're too cowardly to say to my face.  Haven't they convinced you yet that I did away with my sister and her husband and now my niece?"  There was a bitter tone in the man's voice. "No one convinces me of anything that I do not have proof to support, your Excellency," Qui-Gon said calmly.  "But since you brought it up, where were you when Princess Mareeja disappeared?" "Ah, now we get down to it eh?" Dejabold grinned coldly.  "Very well, if you must know, I was at a favorite haunt of mine in Balanay.  I don't expect you to know where that is Master Jinn, but it is a small town very far from here where I go to drink, gamble, and do all those things that the diplomats pretend find so shocking and deplorable.  It is where I go when I want to try to forget that I will soon be taking orders from a child straight out of coventry school."  It was all said very calmly, but he radiated bitterness.  "Yes, I have witnesses to prove it and no, you will find no evidence that links me to any of this.  But will that stop people's tongues from wagging?  No.  I am assumed guilty of everything that happens just because I have the misfortune of being the former Queen's older brother.  Is there anything else I should say to you Master Jinn?" Qui-Gon shook his head.  Mr. Dejabold certainly had an interesting manner about him.  It was no wonder he was not extremely popular.  But was he a murderer?  Qui-Gon tried to probe deeper with his senses, but they returned nothing useful to him, yet.  "Not at this time your Excellency," he declined.  "I will contact you if the need arises." "Do that," Warren turned on his heel and strode away. Qui-Gon watched him go. "Strange man," Prime Minister Bosh commented.  Qui-Gon had felt him approach some time ago and was not surprised when he spoke.  "Do you think he is telling the truth?" "I do not know what to think yet," Qui-Gon put off answering.  "But just because he is strange does not necessarily make him a criminal." "I suppose not, but if he did not engineer this, then who?" "Who indeed," Qui-Gon mused.  The Regent was still the likeliest candidate, especially because of what he now knew about the Ferviot. Bosh rubbed his eyes and yawned.  "Well, it's getting late.  That was a difficult meeting to sit through, I must admire your composure through it all.  It would have been tedious for a younger man though, it's a good thing you didn't bring your apprentice.  Say, where is the boy?  I don't think I've seen him in a while." "A Jedi's duty does not always place one in the public eye," Qui-Gon answered evasively.  As of yet, he had not told anyone about Obi-Wan's disguise, or that he had disappeared with the Princess.  Given the uncertainty of the situation, he felt it wise until he knew a little more. "Where are you going?" Bosh asked as Qui-Gon moved away. "To look for the answer to a question," Qui-Gon answered without stopping. "Where?" Bosh pressed his short legs working hard to keep up with the Jedi Master's long strides.   "The stateroom," Qui-Gon answered simply.  He wanted to see if he could capture that essence he had found there before, that vague trace of his apprentice that he had come across, perhaps it could tell him something that he had missed before. "Again?" Bosh asked, but Qui-Gon had outdistanced him and if he heard, did not bother to answer. Halfway there, the incessant buzzing of his comlink made Qui-Gon pause.  "Jinn here," he responded, almost automatically.  "Master Jinn," the voice on the other end was unfamiliar, but it sounded like that of a young girl.  "Master Jinn, you don't know me, but I am Wendi, Mon Drane's daughter," the girl's voice quavered, but she hesitated.  "I don't know what's going on, but someone attacked my father this morning, shortly after he called you.  They beat him badly.  The doctor's say he'll be all right.  He's unconscious now, but before he went into the healing sleep, he kept saying your name over and over.  I don't know why, but I thought you should know." Qui-Gon's brows furrowed darkly.  "Thank you Wendi, I'm sorry about your father, I will come right away." "No, no need to hurry," Wendi contradicted him.  "The healing sleep of a Cestian can be very long.  I would be surprised if he were to wake before the end of the week.  It is our way." "Well, then I wish him a speedy recovery," Qui-Gon bade farewell and turned the communicator off.  His thoughts swirled around him as he continued on his intended course.  What did this turn of events mean?  Why would anyone beat Mon Drane, and why did the make-up artist call out *his* name?  Did someone suspect something?  What? Reaching the stateroom he pushed through the doors, his mind still trying to mull over this new puzzle piece. He headed for the place by the trophy case where he had felt Obi-Wan's lingering presence before, but stopped before he got there.  On the second shelf of the trophy case, gleaming dully, was another image off a Ferviot, only this one was cast in copper and there was engraving on the base.  It looked just like the one Qui-Gon had in his mind. Opening the case, Qui-Gon lifted it to get a closer look.  Suddenly, the trophy case swung forward, revealing a secret passageway beyond.  *Of course!  This explained a lot.*   Qui-Gon peered down the dark, hidden hallway, probing it intently for any sign of life.  So completely was he focused on it that he did not sense the person who entered the room behind him.  A heavy trophy slammed down towards the back of the Jedi Master's skull... PART EIGHT: Rosy dawn spread across the leafy, green, tangle of the forest.  Obi-Wan woke first.  Rising and stretching he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.  He was still a little tired.  Sleeping on the ground may not have been very comfortable, but it was hardly the first time that he had done so.  However, his sleep had been necessarily light, so that he could keep a mental eye on things even as he slept, ready to be awake in an instant if anything threatening came near them.  But the night had passed smoothly and now it was time to move on again. "Your Highness," he shook Mareeja gently by the shoulder.  "Mareeja, wake up." Mareeja moaned and groggily pulled herself awake, sitting up and running a hand through her tousled hair. "Oohh," she groaned, rubbing her back as she sat up.  "That was definitely *not* the most restful night I have ever spent.  Well, where to from here?"  She had become used to looking to Obi-Wan for direction. "Onward I guess," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, rising to his feet. Mareeja rose and rubbed her stomach.  "I'm hungry." Obi-Wan chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.  "Nothing we can do about that yet I'm afraid," he shook his head.  "Maybe we'll find something along the way," he said hopefully for her sake. Mareeja shuddered.  "I wouldn't feel safe eating anything that just *grew* in these woods.  There could be all sorts of poisonous things." "Some are, some aren't," Obi-Wan half-agreed with her.  "The key is knowing the difference." "Do you know the difference?" Mareeja asked, pushing her way through a tangle-bush.  The wide leaves smacked against her as she passed, dampening her dress with the heavy dew that coated everything, glistening fairy-like in the early morning light. Obi-Wan just nodded.  "Mostly," he qualified. "You're awfully smart," Mareeja complemented.  "How did you learn all these things you know?" "What things, particularly?" Obi-Wan asked, stalling. "Oh, you know, how to tell what's poisonous or not, how to fight and move like you did back at that - that place, those things," Mareeja said. Obi-Wan was engaged in fighting his way through a particularly nasty plant-snarl and took a few moments to consider his answer.  He would not lie to her.  He would have to tell her the... "Mareeja, look at this," he said, stopping suddenly and kneeling to investigate something on the other side of the tangle.  Mareeja slid through the opening he had created and tried to see what Obi-Wan was talking about. The young Jedi held a small, cylindrical, black object in his hand, turning it over and examining it curiously. "What is it?  What did you find?" the Princess asked, kneeling down by him for a closer look.  Upon closer inspection, she realized what it was even before Obi-Wan answered her. "It's a communicator," Obi-Wan told her what she already knew. "Why, how do you think it got here?" she asked in surprise. Obi-Wan shook his head, mystified.  Her guess was as good as his.  "I don't know, maybe somebody dropped it, or lost it out here." "Do you think it still works?" Mareeja asked excitedly. "It looks pretty new," Obi-Wan assessed.  Indeed it could hardly have been there for very long at all.  "Only one way to find out!" he switched the comlink on.  There were no controls to direct to whom the signal went, so it must have been one of a set of comlinks that were either tied only to each other, or else operated in some manner that Obi-Wan was not familiar with.  "Hello?" Obi-Wan spoke into the top of the comlink.  "Hello, can anyone hear me?" The pair waited for several, breathless moments and the silence seemed deafening.  Then the communicator crackled and the wonderfully welcome sound of a voice from the other end broke the silence. "Hello?  Royal Security Officer 309 here.  Who is this?  Identify yourself," the voice responded.  Obi-Wan guessed it was a man's voice. Mareeja nearly jumped for joy.  *Royal Security!*  By some happy chance the signal for the comlink they had found was apparently tied to her own Security Patrol's signal.  In her happy eagerness, the Princess snagged the comlink out of Obi-Wan's hand.  "This is Princess Mareeja," she declared.  "My friend and I found one of your comlinks in the woods.  You will come and get us up immediately," she ordered.  "Your Highness!  Everyone has been searching for you for days your Highness!  Thank the powers you're all right!  We'll be there at once!" the man replied in shock.  "Leave the comlink on and we'll trace its signal." "Very well," Mareeja replied.  "Oh, and one more thing," she said quickly, her lips pursing tightly, her face darkening.  "Call the Palace Security.  Have my Uncle Warren Dejabold placed under arrest immediately, for conspiracy, kidnapping, murder and attempted murder, do you understand?" "Yes, your Majesty," the guard replied soberly.  "I will do as you command.  Over and out."  The comlink fell silent once more. Mareeja sat down on the stunted, scraggly, dew covered grass.  She was very glad to be so near to the end of this ordeal, but she was also intensely angry with her uncle.  *He would pay...* Obi-Wan watched her quietly.  He could tell the Princess was caught somewhere between being happy and being angry.  "It won't help," he said softly. "What won't?" Mareeja asked in surprise, not understanding. "Being angry," Obi-Wan replied.  He did not intend to preach at her about it, but he really, truly liked Mareeja so he offered his opinion.  For normal people, anger was not perhaps as dangerous as it was for Jedi, but it never did anyone any good. "Why shouldn't I be angry?" Mareeja asked, a little indignantly, chagrined that her emotions had been so easily readable to her companion.  "Aren't you angry Obijeena?  He had us kidnapped, he had my parent's killed, probably would have had *us* killed if we hadn't escaped.  So why shouldn't I be angry?" "Because it doesn't help anything," Obi-Wan said, gently, but bluntly.  "No, I'm not angry," he answered her question.  "Because it would do nothing to improve the situation.  What does it accomplish?  The law will punish your uncle; your anger hurts no one but yourself." Mareeja looked away.  Obi-Wan felt a little sorry.  He hadn't meant what he'd said as an insult.  "It's a natural response," he hurried to add, not wishing to sound like he was in any way condemning her for the way she felt.  "I'm not saying it isn't," he said earnestly.  "I'm just saying that not all responses that seem natural to us should we let ourselves express."  Obi-Wan thought he might have twisted the grammar in that last sentence around a wee bit, but that was probably because he was referring to a lesson that Master Yoda had taught him as a child.  Sometimes when referencing Yoda's lessons he half-slid into the wise old Jedi Master's peculiar speech patterns.  Qui-Gon never corrected Obi-Wan for this, but sometimes the corners of the distinguished Master's mouth would twitch after a particularly backward sentence and Obi-Wan got the feeling that he had just inadvertently been a source of great amusement. The apprentice shook his head.  "I didn't mean to offend you Princess," he added softly. Mareeja stared at the trees on her right.  Trying to decide if she was upset with her friend or not.  After everything they had been through together, here they were, about to be saved and *now* they were quarreling?  It was stupid.  Mareeja sighed.  She supposed it was her anger's fault that she felt this way now.  Well, she wasn't going to let something like that spoil the situation.  "You didn't," Mareeja turned back towards Obi-Wan.  "I'm sorry I behaved so, it wasn't very grown up of me, was it?" she shook her head.  "But let's not think about it anymore.  We're finally on our way out of this whole mess and I just want to be happy!" She grinned and Obi-Wan returned her smile.  "Wasn't it wonderfully lucky that we found that comlink?" she bubbled happily.  "I mean, what are the chances?"  A sudden cloud passed briefly over her face.  "You don't think any of my Uncle's men could have heard the conversation do you?" she asked hesitantly, suddenly wishing she had not been quite so quick to declare her title and presence to the world. "I don't know, I don't *think* so," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully.  "It's usually pretty hard to eavesdrop on tied comlinks, that's why they do them that way for Security forces," he reassured, but kept himself on guard anyway.  "Oh, good," Mareeja sighed in relief.  "So tied comlinks work only with each other?" Obi-Wan nodded.  "Or within their own set.  There can be hundreds all tied together, but they'll operate only on their own, coded signal.  Sometimes they are even programmed to recognize voice patterns so that only specially designated people can use them." "I see," Mareeja nodded, only half interested.  "I guess we're fortunate that this wasn't one of those.  We have droids like that at the Palace though, who'll only take commands from the person or persons they're programmed to serve.  All the officials' droids are programmed that way," she mused.  "It was really funny, because one time when I was a little girl, oh, about ten or eleven probably, I was home on break from school and I found a book on droid programming.  For some reason it fascinated me immensely at that time, so I read the whole thing.  When I was done I was sure I could do everything it talked about, so I got one of the servant boys to help me and we snuck around and altered almost all the personal, voice-recognition droids so that instead of obeying when they heard their master's voices," Mareeja started to grin a little in spite of herself, seeing now what a terrible nuisance she must have been.  "They would respond with rather rude, personal comments that we programmed into them ourselves.  It was quite funny." Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow and smiled wryly.  He bet it had been funny, he also bet that people were probably pretty annoyed.  Everyone at the Temple sure had been when *he* was ten and he had... well, Obi-Wan flushed just remembering it.  He probably should never have let the good natured, but disasteredly prank-war between he and his friends and some of the other Initiates go that far.  Obi- Wan still remembered standing in the dark, realizing that their bungled joke had just left, not only the entire Temple, but also half of Coruscant without power.  "Kenobi," a Master's voice said, using that tone that made you just know you were in trouble.  "You will come with me please." Obi-Wan shook his head to dispel the memory.  It was funny in hindsight, but he had certainly found nothing humorous about it at the time.  He had taken the blame for everything, even the parts he did not do, to keep his friends out of trouble.  Looking back, he realized he had not fooled the Masters, they knew the truth, but if he insisted on claiming responsibility for it, they would let him see how that went.  It was the only time he could recall the Masters ever actually punishing him in a sterner fashion then just assigning him extra exercises and duties, although they had done that too.  "What happened?" Obi-Wan asked, curious despite himself.  "Well," Mareeja said, blushing a little herself.  "My parents weren't very pleased.  I can laugh about it *now*," "But it wasn't very funny then," Obi-Wan finished for her, knowing precisely what she meant.  "Exactly," Mareeja nodded, her eyes glinting.  "I see we perhaps have some common experiences in our histories?" she asked with a knowing smile. Obi-Wan just grinned sheepishly and nodded.  "You could say that."  *At least you didn't black out half a planet!* "Of course," Mareeja had a distant look in her eye, remembering.  "It was almost worth it really, to hear those droids go.  Prime Minister Bosh was soooo angry!  He's a very proud man, but he's woefully over-weight and when he tried to talk to it his droid kept saying the things we programmed it to say, which all had to do with his chunkiness.  It wasn't very nice I'm afraid, and the jokes probably weren't that funny since they were thought up by eleven-year-olds, but," Obi-Wan had stopped listening to her story several sentences ago.  A thought had struck him, and it was not one he liked.  "Wait a moment, are the droids at the Palace *still* programmed for voice-recognition only?" he asked suddenly. Mareeja shrugged, unperturbed by Obi-Wan's uncharacteristic interruption.  "Many of them, why?  You don't want to try playing the same joke when we get back do you?" she teased.  "I'm afraid it wouldn't exactly be queenly..." Obi-Wan shook his head, dead serious now.  "Mareeja, are Prime Minister Bosh's droids still programmed that way?" "Yes," Mareeja shrugged, still not sure what her friend was getting at.  "Like I said, the officials are very picky.  They won't keep droids unless they're programmed like that..." Mareeja's voice trailed off, thinking about what she had just said.  "Mareeja," Obi-Wan said, urgency creeping into his voice.  "That means that if one of Prime Minister Bosh's droids came to you with a message, you would know it was only from him, *could* only be from him." Mareeja nodded mutely, a tingling sensation creeping up her arms, giving her goosebumps. "Think Mareeja, this is important," Obi-Wan said earnestly.  "Was that Bosh's droid who came for you at the party?"  Mareeja nodded again, slowly.  "Y-yes, it was.  I'm certain of it.  I'd know Three-Dee anywhere.  Obijeena," she said, her eyes narrowing in terrible suspicion.  "Do you realize that that means that it actually *was* Prime Minister Bosh who sent it, and not the traitorous guards like we thought?!" Obi-Wan nodded solemnly.  That was exactly what he had realized.  "I think we've been barking up the entirely wrong tree Mareeja." "My Uncle isn't behind this after all!" Mareeja cried, jumping to her feet, the truth of her Prime Minister's betrayal rushing in on her.  "Bosh is the one!  He masterminded this, letting me think it was my Uncle!  He is the one responsible for my parents' death!" Mareeja clenched her fists, so wrought up she was nearly shouting.  At that moment, the Royal Security officers arrived. "Captain!" Mareeja said urgently.  "We must get back to Radoon at once!  Prime Minister Bosh is a murderous traitor and must be apprehended immediately!" "Mareeja!" Obi-Wan called out, springing to his feet, but he was too late to stop her declaration. "Really your Highness?" the Captain asked, but something in his eyes made Mareeja uneasy.  "Isn't that a shame," he said, coolly drawing his blaster on her.  Mareeja stumbled back a step in shock as the other officers drew their weapons as well.  "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.  "How dare you draw your weapons on me?" "They work for Bosh Mareeja," Obi-Wan's voice came from behind her.  "This whole thing has been one huge, elaborate scheme," the young Jedi said as all the pieces finally fit together.  "The Prime Minister planned it from the first.  That's why he kidnapped you instead of killing you and had his men drop all those little hints to make us think it was your Uncle.  That's why the fence was off and we got away so easy, they *let* us escape.  They've been watching us this whole time.  They even planted that communicator."  That's what had felt wrong about it, Obi- Wan realized.  While the ground was covered in dew, the communicator was dry because it had been purposely left there for them to find not twenty minutes before they came across it.  "They *wanted* you to come rushing back and have your Uncle locked away, because then, when Bosh did get rid of you, Mr. Dejabold was out of the way and as the next highest-ranking Official, Bosh could step in and take over," Obi-Wan and Mareeja backed slowly away as Obi-Wan talked.  "Only now that we know, they're going to have to just kill us and work something else out." "You're pretty smart girlie," the Captain grinned. Several of the traitorous Security Officers cut around behind the Princess and the Jedi, halting their retreat and taking them by the arms. Obi-Wan was inclined to struggle, but with all these blasters pointed at them he decided he had better wait for a slightly better looking opportunity.  "You've got it all figured out.  But you don't have all the surprises, I know something about you too, young *lady*," he grinned, stressing the word.  "You're no girl at all, *Obi-Wan Kenobi*.  You're that blasted Jedi Jinn's Padawan, and you are both going to die."  He pointed his blaster directly at Obi-Wan's head. "What?!" Mareeja nearly shouted.  This was all a little too much for her to grasp so quickly.  Her Uncle was not a traitor, the Prime Minister was, Obijeena was really a boy, and a Jedi Padawan and they were going to be killed.  Sure, she could deal with this, no problem.  Obi-Wan slammed his head back into the face of the man who was holding his arms behind him.  Making the man let go his hold he jumped to the side, missing the blast that was intended for him and knocking Mareeja's captor sprawling all in one move.  "Run Mareeja, run!" he urged, grabbing her hand and tugging her once more into the trees with him as blaster shots and security officers followed them.  *"Well *this* is familiar!"* Mareeja thought sarcastically.  Only this time, the people chasing them weren't going to simply let them get away.  This time, they really wanted to kill them.  Obi-Wan tugged her behind a tree with him, scanning quickly for the best route through the tangled forest.  Mareeja looked at him.  She could see it now, why she had thought him familiar at first.  It *was* the young Jedi that she had seen so often at Master Jinn's side.  "I don't believe this," she shook her head.  "You're a *boy?*  All this time, and you're a *boy?!*"  She was felt so embarrassed she thought she would die.  All those things she said and did, she had done in front of a man! Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her sense of timing.  "I'm sorry about this your Highness, really, but is it imperative that we discuss it right now?" he asked as a hail of blaster bolts drove them out of cover of the tree, putting them on the run again.  Mareeja guessed not, so she fell silent.  Pushing and scrambling their way through a tangle the pair reached the other side, only to find themselves staring straight down the barrels of half-a-dozen blasters. "Game over, kids," the Captain said coldly.  "You lost." PART NINE: Moving so fast that his motions blurred, Qui-Gon whirled around and grabbed the attacker's wrist before the blow could land.  He found himself staring into the startled and enraged face of the Prime Minister.  "Well Mr. Bosh," he said calmly, pushing the short, fat man up against the trophy case.  "I have found something in here after all.  And I think perhaps you can explain it to me." ************* With only a moment to act, Obi-Wan pulled Mareeja protectively behind him, prepared to take the shot first.  Only the shot never came.  "Halt!  You are all under arrest!" a voice shouted, causing the traitorous Security Officers to look up.  They found themselves surrounded by a company of soldiers, their weapons drawn. The traitors, clearly out-numbered, laid down their arms without a fight.  Obi-Wan saw his Master step out of the trees.  Beside Qui-Gon was a General with gold-braid on his Uniform. "Your Highness, are you all right?" the General asked in concern.  Mareeja nodded wordlessly.  Speech seemed a trifle beyond her at this time. "How did you find us, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, both surprised and happy to see Qui-Gon there.  He had gotten so used to having to disguise his voice that he forgot that he didn't need to now. Qui-Gon almost smiled at the sight and the sound of his apprentice.  He had forgotten how good the makeover had done its job and it was odd to hear a young lady call him Master. "Prime Minister Bosh planned his trap craftily.  A little too craftily for his own good.  Everything was so well planned that he became over confident and took risks he should not have," Qui-Gon replied. "Once Bosh's treachery was discovered, he spilled the whole thing like the coward he is," the General added.  "From there, and with Master Jinn's help, we were able to locate you.  Thank the powers that we made it in time." "Thank you General," Mareeja said, still slightly shaken and shell-shocked from everything that had happened.  "And thank you Master Jinn."  She said nothing to Obi-Wan.  She didn't even look at him.  Obi-Wan's heart felt heavy.  He had been afraid of this.  Afraid that because their friendship started out based on a deception it could not last once the truth was revealed.  "Now you know what happened with us, but what about you?  We expected to find you two still in their clutches, not here in the middle of the forest!" the General continued.  Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan.  The General had expected them to still be there.  Qui-Gon had not.  "We would have missed you if Master Jinn hadn't insisted that we turn aside here," the kindly older man finished. "I don't feel well General and I'd rather not talk about it," Mareeja put a hand to her head, the long ordeal finally taking its toll on her.  "I'm sure Obij- Obi-Wan here can fill you in on everything."  Was that ice in her voice when she said it? Obi-Wan sighed. The General turned to the young Jedi expectantly and Obi-Wan obediently filled in the details for the Radoonian and his Master.  When he finished, he looked around for Mareeja, but found her gone; already whisked away back to the palace.  He wanted to talk to her, but supposed it would have to wait. Qui-Gon placed his hand gently on his apprentice's shoulder, knowing what he was thinking.  "Come, it's time to go back." Not very far distant there was a clearing where the army had parked the small fleet of swoops that they had used to reach the area so quickly.  There were only enough swoops for the soldiers and Qui-Gon who had ridden out so the General had sent for a transport to come to take the prisoners and Obi-Wan back.  As they arrived in the clearing, one of the soldiers approached Qui-Gon.  He was a trifle timid, but seemed to be bolstering himself up to ask something.  "Master Jinn," he said with forced braveness.  "As you know, it will take a good fifteen minutes for the transport to arrive.  I would hate to see the lady stranded here that long after everything she's been through sir and I, that is, I was wondering if I might have your permission to give her a ride back to Radoon with the rest of us sir," he asked hopefully.  For a moment, Qui-Gon tried to figure out what on earth the young man was talking about.  *What* young lady?  The Princess had already been ushered back to the Capital... then a smile spread across the tall Jedi's face.  *Oh, *that* young lady...* The dashing young soldier had obviously not grasped the truth of Obi-Wan's situation.  He was under the impression that 'she' was what she appeared to be and that Qui-Gon was either her father or her guardian.  Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow. "There's plenty of room and I'll fly carefully Sir, I promise," the young man said earnestly. Qui-Gon glanced at his Padawan with a funny little smile that Obi-Wan did not like. Obi-Wan glared at his Master.  *"Don't you dare,"* his look spoke louder than words. Despite Obi-Wan's many adventures and long ordeal; he still looked quite pretty with his flushed cheeks and a soft halo of loose hairs framing his face.  Qui-Gon did not blame the young man for wanting to give 'her' a ride. *"Well Obi-Wan, I have encountered a lot of things since taking you as Padawan, but I never expected to be asked for permission to give you a ride home..."* the look on Obi-Wan's face made Qui-Gon want to laugh so badly. "How can I refuse such a polite and generous offer?" Qui-Gon said with an amused smile.  "Certainly, you have my permission." "Master!" Obi-Wan started to protest.  "Do you want to get back, or stay here for another quarter of an hour waiting for the transport?" Qui-Gon asked mildly. Obi-Wan sighed and rolled his eyes as the happy young soldier pulled him off towards his swoop.  He supposed he could tell the man the mistake that was being made, but that would be awkward and embarrassing, so he decided to suffer through and focus on getting back as soon as possible. That was how Obi-Wan found himself flying back to Radoon seated on the back of a swoop with his arms wrapped around the waist of the young man at the controls.  The soldier intentionally went too fast and made a lot of dips and fancy maneuvers that were entirely uncalled for.  Obi-Wan wasn't sure whether the young man was trying to impress him, make him hold on tighter or knock him off. It was a wind-blown and not-too-happy looking Padawan who met Qui-Gon back in Radoon.  "That man," Obi-Wan said dryly, "Does not know how to fly."  Qui-Gon smoothed Obi-Wan's wig, combing it down with his fingers.  "Oh, I'm sure he's a better pilot than you think." Obi-Wan batted Qui-Gon's hand away from his hair.  He was not amused.  "I just want to go back to our rooms, get out of this dress and take a long, hot shower." "We will, but we must take care of some details here first.  It shouldn't take long." It took much longer than anticipated and it was well past midnight by the time the pair finally found themselves making their way back to their rooms.  "I'm glad it didn't take long," Obi-Wan muttered, half under his breath.  If one more man tried to flirt with him, that unfortunate fellow was going to end up flat on his back so fast he'd think the sky was falling. "Master," he asked as they took the lift up to their floor.  "Do girls actually *like* having men drool all over them that way?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.  "Never having been one, I could not say.  However, I would suppose it depended on the woman.  Some perhaps find it flattering, but I'm sure there are a great many who find it just as annoying as you did." "I am never going to act that way," Obi-Wan shook his head.  "It makes a person feel more like a thing, than a sentient being." "Then it seems you have learned something important from all this after all," Qui-Gon commented.  The clock on the wall was registering some absurdly late hour of the night as their door swished open for them.  Obi-Wan yawned. "Better get changed and get some sleep," Qui-Gon advised.  "Tomorrow is the coronation and Radoonian's are known for their ornate and lengthy ceremonies.  Now that all is safe and well, they will doubtless wish to make it a day to remember." "Well this has certainly been one to forget," Obi-Wan sighed. The young Jedi left to change, but reappeared several moments later, tugging in frustration at the zipper on the back of his dress.  He was not accustomed to having to reach at that angle.  He was also not accustomed to having such long hair and did not know what a volatile combination hair and zippers could be.  The wig became helplessly tangled in the teeth of the zipper and the apprentice couldn't get the ornery clasp to budge.  *"I *hate* long hair,"* Obi-Wan thought, tugging at the recalcitrant fastener.  *"I don't know how Qui-Gon stands it.  I am *never* going to wear my hair this long,"* he resolved to himself.  Qui-Gon saw his apprentice's distress and shook his head with a smile. "Mon Drane's injuries were much less serious than a first thought.  I hear he is already out of his healing sleep.  We will have to see him first thing in the morning, *before* the coronation, to have you put back to normal," the Jedi Master said, surveying the mess that Obi-Wan had made of the zipper.  "Not a moment too soon either it seems." Patiently untangling the sandy locks, Qui-Gon pulled the fastener free, unzipping Obi-Wan's bodice all the way down his back. At that moment, the door opened.  "Pardon my intrusion at this late hour Master Jinn, but-" Warren Dejabold stopped short, taking in the situation. Qui-Gon straightened up immediately, realizing what this looked like. Obi-Wan unconsciously hugged the front of the loosened bodice to him in a distinctly girlish manner.  He was very apt at picking things up and did not realize how many feminine gestures and mannerisms he had incorporated in his attempt to make his act believable. "It seems I have chosen an inopportune moment to drop in," Warren apologized with a knowing smile.  "I did not mean to interrupt anything..." "No," Qui-Gon shook his head quickly.  "You're not.  I can explain," he was trying to figure out how to say this wasn't what it looked like.  He wanted to explain that this was his Padawan, but Mr. Dejabold had never met Obi-Wan and if the Radoonian still thought it was a girl he was seeing, that would sound worse.  Warren winked at the Jedi Master and waved his hand, dismissing whatever Qui-Gon was going to say.  "No need, no need," he assured.  "I simply had no idea the Jedi partook of such... amusements.  I am sorry for intruding and only stopped by to say thank you for clearing my name.  I did not like you when we first met, because I was sure you were against me, but I was wrong."  An idea seemed to strike him.  "I'll have a bottle of Champagne sent up for you," he said with a suggestive smile. Obi-Wan had watched this whole exchange with growing amusement.  After all the embarrassing, uncomfortable things he had been through within the last 48 hours, it was nice to see Qui-Gon starting to flush and fluster for a change. "That won't be necessary," Qui-Gon declined quickly, his angled face starting to color slightly despite himself.  "You see-" "Oh, but that's such a sweet offer!" Obi-Wan gushed in his most feminine voice, batting his eyelashes at Warren.  "That's so thoughtful of you!  Isn't it Qui darling?" he asked innocently, leaning up close to the big Jedi.  Laying his right hand lightly on Qui-Gon's arm and continuing to hold the dress up with his left he smiled sweetly.  Qui-Gon nearly choked and he turned a very satisfactory color.  Obi-Wan knew he was going to be doing extra exercises and scrubbing Temple floors for weeks for this, but he didn't care.  The look on Qui-Gon's face right now was worth the trouble he was going to get in for it.  "I'll have it sent right up young lady.  Better lock the door this time Jinn," Warren said, exiting with a smile and shutting the door behind him.  "What in the name of the Force was *that* all about?" Qui-Gon rounded on Obi-Wan with very little of his usual calm, although still very remarkably restrained.  "What?" Obi-Wan asked innocently.  "I just said it was thoughtful of him and it was thoughtful of him." "But you deceived him," Qui-Gon pointed out. "It wasn't deception Master," Obi-Wan said with an entirely too self-satisfied smile.  "It was playing a part," the Padawan echoed Qui-Gon's own words to him before this whole escapade started. Qui-Gon frowned in deep exasperation.  The big Jedi seemed caught somewhere between cuffing his apprentice and laughing at the absurdity of the situation but in the end he just shrugged.  "We'll talk about it tomorrow Kenobi." Obi-Wan always knew he was in trouble when Qui-Gon last-named him.  "For now," Qui-Gon waved his hand wearily.  "Just... Just get out of that dress!" Obi-Wan paused in the doorway to his room when Qui-Gon said this.  Looking back over his shoulder he grinned ingratiatingly.  "Why Qui, I didn't know you cared..." he said in the most syrupy voice he could muster and then beat a hasty retreat into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and narrowly avoiding the none-too-gentle swat that Qui-Gon had aimed at the Padawan's backside.  The big Jedi tried the handle, but Obi-Wan had taken the precaution of turning the lock.  Qui-Gon could hear the muffled sound of Obi-Wan's mirth coming from the other side.  "Get some sleep Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called through the closed door.  "And *DON'T EVER* call me that again!" But Obi-Wan was sprawled across his bed in a nearly suffocating fit of laughter and did not answer. PART TEN: The Coronation went splendidly and it was indeed an auspicious affair.  It actually turned out to be a three- day procedure filled with feasting and merriment.  On the morning of the last day, Mareeja was installed as Radoon's Queen for the rest of her natural life, unless she chose to relinquish, or the people voted to remover her, neither of which looked likely to happen.  However Obi-Wan's enjoyment of the whole affair was slightly tainted because he was still troubled about the way in which the princess and he had parted several days before.  The afternoon after the ceremonies were officially over, Obi-Wan sought Mareeja out.  He found her on the terrace, looking out over the palace gardens.  "Your Highness?" he said quietly, coming up behind her.  Mareeja started slightly, not having heard his approach.  She turned. "So," he smiled gently.  "You are Queen now.  Does it feel different?  You don't look different." "It's strange really," Mareeja shook her head.  "In some ways I feel no different at all, and in others, I feel as if I'll never be the same again."  She turned her face away from him and Obi-Wan's heart ached.  "Your Highness," he sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that I had to deceive you, I'm sorry that I broke the sacredness of your party, I only did it in an effort to protect you, and I didn't end up doing a very good job of that," Obi-Wan looked dejectedly at the floor.  "I wanted to tell you a hundred times, but, but I was afraid it would change everything between us," Obi-Wan reached out and gently turned her head back towards him with his hand on her chin.  "You are a kind and enjoyable person Mareeja and I treasure your friendship.  The things I said to you were not lies; I meant every word of them.  As Obijeena, I came to love you like a sister, and I only wonder, can you like Obi-Wan too?" Obi-Wan inquired earnestly, his pale blue eyes searching her intense periwinkle ones.  Mareeja smiled and took his hand in hers.  "Of course I can Obi-Wan.  I was angry at first, but the past few days have given me time to think and I realized that I probably would not have survived that ordeal without you, so your disguise and attendance at the party are justified.  But more than that," she squeezed his hand.  "I treasure our friendship too.  I feel that I know your heart Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that you know mine.  That is not a feeling I am able to share with very many people.  Let us always be friends Obi-Wan.  Promise you will write to me, after you and your Master leave." "I promise, if you will write to me," Obi-Wan agreed with a smile. "But where would I send the letters?" Mareeja laughed.  "To: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Galaxy Wanderer c/o Adventure & Danger Unlimited?" she shook her head. Obi-Wan laughed too.  "Send your letters to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.  I can always pick them up there, or they can forward them." "Obi-Wan?" Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon calling him.  "Here Master, on the terrace," he answered. Qui-Gon smiled when he saw Obi-Wan and Mareeja together, looking so happy.  He was glad that they had worked everything out.  Then his face straightened again as he recalled what he had come here to say.  "We have to leave Obi-Wan, gather your things." "So soon?" Obi-Wan looked a little surprised.  He would have thought they would have had a day or two's layaway at least.  "Yes, I have been summoned by the Council," Qui-Gon informed the apprentice, his tone a trifle short. "By the Council?" Obi-Wan looked even more surprised.  "Why?  Is something wrong?" "Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with a look in his eyes that made the Padawan very suddenly want to sink into the earth.  "Something is.  I have been summoned by the Council to answer some rumors that have been brought to them.  Something about my having underage girls in my quarters at midnight," he said pointedly.  Obi-Wan's eyes got very large.  He had never thought that something like that would ever get back to the Jedi Council. "Oh," he said quietly.  Months.  He was going to be scrubbing floors for months.  Or worse. "Yes, *Oh*," Qui-Gon said with folded arms.  "I think the trip back will be a good time for you to contemplate actions, and the consequences they can cause." Obi-Wan studied his boots.  *Uh, oh...* he was in for it now.  Then he felt Mareeja nudge him gently in the ribs.  Glancing up to catch her eye he found it sparkling with amusement.  *"We'll laugh about this one day,"* her eyes seemed to say. "Why Master Jinn..." Mareeja started to tease, easily figuring out the cause for *that* rumor.  Then the look in Qui-Gon's eyes made her think the better what she was going to say.  "I would love to hear how you explain it to them," she finished mildly instead. Qui-Gon just smiled and bowed his farewell, but as they walked away, Obi-Wan heard him mutter under his breath.  "So would I.  So would I." THE END

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