The Prince pointed a finger at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.
"You must leave Gala at once!" he cried.
The Queen rose to her feet. "Beju, explain yourself," she ordered, her voice shimmering with anger.
Beju slowly circled around the Jedi, his gaze contemptuous. He was a solidly built young man the same approximate height and weight as Obi-Wan, but with shoulder-length hair that was so pale it was almost white. His eyes were the same ice-blue as his mother's.
In his short encounter with the Prince, Obi-Wan had been granted a full picture of the boy's arrogance. He kept his own gaze steady but neutral. Qui-Gon was right. They should not antagonize the Prince any further.
"They call themselves Jedi, but they are nothing but troublemakers," Prince Beju spat out. "Have you heard about their doings on Phindar? They meddled and sowed discord. As a result, there was a great battle. Many were killed. Do you want that to happen on Gala, Mother?"
"They broke the back of a crime organization that had taken over the planet," Queen Veda replied calmly. "The Phindians are free. And they also brought us bacta to help with our own shortage."
The Prince flushed. "Some gift," he said contemptuously. "It was I who went to Phindar to negotiate the release of the bacta. Thanks to the Jedi, the bacta was off-loaded from my ship by the Phindian rebels! No doubt the Jedi ordered them to do so. And now they bring my bacta here as a gift? It is a joke!"
Obi-Wan stiffened. Why didn't Qui-Gon speak? The Prince was giving his own version of what happened on Phindar. It was filled with lies. Prince Beju knew that the Jedi had no proof that the Prince meant harm to Gala. Obi-Wan took note of his cleverness. But why wouldn't Qui-Gon speak the truth to Queen Veda?
The frail, bald man by Beju's side turned to the Jedi. "Do you have anything to say to this?"
"This is Lonnag Giba," Queen Veda said, turning to the Jedi. "He is the Head of the Council of Ministers, and graciously agreed to your visit."
"That was before I heard Prince Beju's charges," Giba said sternly. "I ask you again, Jedi. What do you have to say?"
"We differ with the Prince about what happened on Phindar," Qui-Gon replied. His voice betrayed no irritation or anger at the Prince's charges. "But it would be pointless to argue. We were invited here. Why should we defend ourselves? If you wish us to leave your world, we shall."
"No!" Queen Veda exclaimed.
"Yes, Mother," Prince Beju said, flicking his cape behind him as he turned to face her. "Let them go. They are nothing but meddlers masquerading as guardians, weaklings masquerading as Knights."
Queen Veda sighed. "Enough, Beju," she said. "You have made your point. But Qui-Gon Jinn is right. The Jedi were invited here as guardians of the peace. We want the elections to go smoothly, don't we?"
"We don't want them at all," the Prince replied sullenly. "I am the true king of Gala. Father meant it to be so, and well you know it. If I ruled Gala, I would send these troublemakers on the first transport back to their so-holy Temple ."
"Yet I am ruler now," the Queen said softly. "And I say they shall stay."
"Of course," the Prince said bitterly. "You deny me the crown. Why not deny me everything else?"
"Perhaps there is a compromise we can reach," Giba broke in smoothly. "The Jedi will remain on Gala. But they cannot leave the palace unescorted. We should send someone with them. Someone who knows the city well." He turned to the Jedi. "It is for your protection as well. The city is a dangerous place right now. There is much unrest. You'll need a guide."
Giba spoke diplomatically, but Obi-Wan didn't believe a word. The old man knew that Jedi didn't need help to defend themselves. It was just a way to get them to accept a spy who would report on their movements. Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon's protest. But again, the Jedi Knight said nothing. How could he agree to such humiliating terms?
Queen Veda's gaze rested on her son for a moment. She looked tired - very tired. "As you wish, Beju," she said softly. "It is true. I cannot deny you everything." She wrapped her hand around a glowing rod that hung on the wall. It changed color to a soft blue. "Jono Dunn will escort the Jedi."
A moment later, the metal door opened. A boy about Obi-Wan's age stood at attention, dressed in a navy tunic and pants.
"Jono Dunn, come forward," the Queen said. "These are the Jedi sent to Gala to oversee elections. Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. You will be their escort during their stay."
"They are not allowed to leave the palace without you," Prince Beju said quickly.
"Is this acceptable, Qui-Gon?" Queen Veda asked. Her eyes pleaded with him to agree.
Qui-Gon nodded. "We thank you for the assistance, Queen Veda," he said quietly.
Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. Not only was Qui-Gon accepting a guard, he was thanking the Queen!
Qui-Gon's sharp blue gaze moved to Giba. "And thank you, Giba. I'm sure our guard will protect us on the dangerous streets of Galu."
Qui-Gon put a hand on Jono Dunn's shoulder and positioned the boy between himself and Obi-Wan. Large and powerful, Qui-Gon towered over the slight boy. Although he was the same age, Obi-Wan's size and strength dwarfed the boy's as well. Qui-Gon had effortlessly made the point that Giba's offer was hollow. Jono was no protection for the Jedi. He was only a pawn in the game.
The Queen's lips quirked in a smile. Giba's narrow face flushed red with anger. He pressed his thin lips together. "Enjoy your stay," he said through clenched teeth.
"I'm sure we shall," Qui-Gon responded.
Qui-Gon bowed and left the chamber. Obi-Wan followed only a second later. When he reached the hall, Qui-Gon was already gone.
Legacy.
The word struck a chord in Qui-Gon. He needed time to consider why it had lodged so deep within him. He took the exterior stairway to the gardens below. Obi-Wan would no doubt make his way to their quarters.
Trees were bursting with fruit, or were in blossom within the palace walls. Qui-Gon recognized a few - muja and tango. Masses of white, red, purple, and yellow marked the flower gardens beyond. The palace was famous for its extensive gardens. Qui-Gon knew that every plant, tree, and flower native to Gala was represented here. He strolled in the orchards. The muja trees were in blossom, and every sudden breeze sent a shower of pink petals drifting to the grass below.
The Queen had spoken of her legacy. Dying, she considered what she wished to leave behind. Her first thought was for her son. She even felt a bond with a stepchild she had never known. The Galacians were a people of strong family bonds. Jobs and land were often passed down from parent to child. Marriages were carefully chosen to strengthen the family.
Qui-Gon had given up family and children for the life of a Jedi. He had chosen freely. No Jedi was bound to the life. He could choose to leave it at any time. Yet he knew he would not.
Qui-Gon leaned down to pick up petals from the grass. He let them drift through his fingers, to be carried by the wind. This would be his life, he thought. He would wander the galaxy. He would risk his life on behalf of strangers. What would he leave behind?
Qui-Gon's wandering took him to the kitchen gardens. Signs of planting surrounded him - shovels and rakes, careful rows of tiny seedlings taking root in the dirt. He looked down at the ground, almost surprised to see his own foot prints there. Wind and rain would soon wash them away.
Elan had chosen to live apart from society. She followed a set of laws that belonged to no government, no world, only her fellow travelers. She was like him, he realized. He had never met her, but he knew her.
"Qui-Gon?"
He turned at the sound of Obi-Wan's voice. The boy looked hesitant, afraid to disturb him.
"You disappeared," Obi-Wan said. "I didn't know where to look."
Qui-Gon could not share his thoughts. Obi-Wan was young, just starting out on his journey as a Jedi. He would not understand thoughts of legacies, of what he would leave behind. Not yet.
"Why did you agree to our not leaving the palace without an escort?" The question seemed torn fro
m Obi-Wan's lips. Obviously, the boy thought Qui-Gon should have resisted Giba's suggestion.
"It is better for now that they think they can control us," Qui-Gon answered.
"Do you think the Queen is telling the truth?" Obi-Wan asked. "Does she really not want her son to win the election? And what does she want with Elan?"
"It could be as she says," Qui-Gon said slowly. "Or it could be that she wants us to lure Elan back here in order to kill her. Any Council member who was alive when the King was young knows that Beju is not the true heir. I would guess that Giba knows, for example. That is why he is afraid of us. There is always the danger that the secret will be exposed. Of course, if the Queen is lying about her intentions, she could be in league with Giba and their disagreement was staged for our benefit. If they can get rid of Elan, Queen Veda could call off the elections and appoint Beju King." Qui-Gon paused. "Or she could be lying about Elan for some other purpose we haven't discovered."
"Well, what do you believe?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep the confusion and impatience out of his voice.
"I think there are more secrets here," Qui-Gon answered thoughtfully. "Yet I think we should proceed as though the Queen is telling the truth. I am going to the hill country to find Elan."
"But our mission is to oversee the election!" Obi-Wan protested. "You can't do that from the hill country."
One corner of Qui-Gon's mouth shifted in a half smile. "You are sometimes a bit too fond of the rules, Obi-Wan. Things change. A mission is not clear-cut. Sometimes the direct road is not the one to take."
"But the safety of Gala is in our hands," Obi-Wan argued. "We were sent to be guardians of peace, not to go chasing long-lost daughters."
"You may disagree with me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said mildly. "That is your right. But I will go."
"We're not allowed to leave the city, or even the palace without an escort," Obi-Wan reminded him. "You were the one to agree to it! Giba and Prince Beju will be furious. Can't we allow the Queen's messenger to contact Elan?"
"Elan will not listen to a message," Qui-Gon replied. "She will have to be persuaded. She will have to see the truth in my eyes, or she will not come."
"You talk as if you know her!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.
"I do," Qui-Gon said quietly.
He walked closer to Obi-Wan and rested his hand gently on his shoulder for a moment. "Don't worry, Padawan. You can handle the mission here until I return. Be alert for palace intrigue." Qui-Gon's keen gaze swept the palace. "Trust no one here. There is a disturbance in the Force. I don't know where exactly it lies."
Obi-Wan looked at him, frustrated. "But what will I tell them when they ask where you are?"
Instead of answering, Qui-Gon strode through the half-planted gardens back to the trees. As he walked, he reached up and swiped a piece of ripe fruit from a branch overhead. Without turning, he tossed it over his shoulder. He didn't have to turn. He knew his Padawan would catch it.
"It's simple," he called behind him. "Tell them I'm still here."
"Respect is the cornerstone of the Master-Padawan bond," Obi-Wan said through his teeth. His voice bounced off the walls of his room, sounding hollow to his ears. Still, he needed the reminder. Every day, alone in the palace, he questioned Qui-Gon's decision.
The morning sun burnished the wood of the vast bed he slept in. A tapestry hung on the opposite wall, finely worked with metallic threads of gold, silver, and green. Woven blankets in rich, jewel-like colors kept out the night chill. It was the finest room he'd ever slept in. But staying in the palace for the past two days was no treat.
Qui-Gon had given him an impossible task. Each morning before dawn, Obi-Wan ran through the connecting door to Qui-Gon's quarters and disarranged the blankets on Qui-Gon's bed. He lay on his pillow to leave an indentation. Each morning Jono Dunn knocked on the door, bringing tea and fruit. Obi-Wan had told Jono that Qui-Gon meditated in the gardens early. He would wait for Jono to leave, then drink Qui-Gon's tea and eat his fruit as well as his own. That part was not hard. Obi-Wan was always hungry.
As for Prince Beju and Giba, Obi-Wan had to constantly invent excuses for Qui-Gon's absence. The Jedi was resting, or meditating, or touring the gardens. He would be along any minute, if they'd care to wait... they never did. He would take his evening meal in his room. He had already retired for the night....
Perhaps they were suspicious. Obi-Wan couldn't tell. He had a feeling they were relieved that Qui-Gon wasn't more involved in the elections. Obi-Wan told Jono that Qui-Gon left much of the monitoring to him.
A soft knock came at Obi-Wan's door. A moment later, Jono opened it.
"I left a tray for Qui-Gon, as usual," Jono said. He placed Obi-Wan's tray on the small table by the window. Usually, he bowed and left quickly, but today, he lingered.
"I did not see him in the gardens," he said. "It's my job to pick the flowers for the Queen morning and night. Yet I never see the Jedi."
Obi-Wan reached for a piece of blumfruit.
"The gardens are so large. He most likely avoided you. He doesn't like to be interrupted during his morning meditation."
Jono stood quietly. He was a handsome boy, with golden hair and the glowing skin of the Galacians. Although he had accompanied Obi-Wan on several trips to inspect polling places in Galu, he had not talked much.
"You think I am a spy," he burst out suddenly. "You think I am working for the Prince."
"Well, aren't you?" Obi-Wan asked calmly.
"I do not report to the Prince," Jono said scornfully. "I serve the Queen. The Dunns have served the ruler of Gala since the Tallah dynasty began."
"So you come from a line of royal servants?" Obi-Wan asked curiously. He pushed the plate of food toward Jono.
Jono ignored it. He raised his chin proudly. "The Dunns are great landowners far from Galu. I was chosen at the age of five to come to the palace. It was a great honor. All children in the Dunn family line are watched from an early age. Only the smartest and quickest are chosen."
Obi-Wan held out a piece of fruit toward Jono. "I, too, was chosen at an early age," he told the boy. "I left my family and went to the Jedi Temple . It was a great honor. But I missed my family very much, even though I couldn't really remember them."
Jono reached out a tentative hand and took the fruit from Obi-Wan. "The beginning was the hardest," he said, popping it into his mouth.
"The Jedi Temple is calm and beautiful. It is my home, and yet it is not a home, like everyone else has."
"That's just the way I feel!" Jono agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Obi-Wan. "The palace was too grand at first. And I missed the smell of the sea. But now I feel at home. I know my duty, and I am proud to do it. There is honor in serving my Queen." He met Obi-Wan's gaze steadily. "But I do not spy."
At that moment, Obi-Wan and Jono became friends. Jono continued to accompany him on his walks through Galu, but instead of silently staying a short pace behind him, Jono walked beside Obi-Wan, sharing stories of the city and of Deca Brun, his hero.
"The Queen is right to call for elections," Jono told him. "Deca Brun will help Gala to rise again. He is for all the people, not just rich people."
Jono never asked again about Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan knew Jono suspected that Qui-Gon had left the palace. He appreciated his guide's silence. He did not have to lie to Jono any longer. His friend asked no questions.
Jono often spoke of his family. Even though he rarely saw them, his connection to them was strong. Obi-Wan came to envy Jono's deep commitment. He had left behind a concept of family when he took up his destiny as a Jedi. His allegiance was to the Jedi Code. Was this choice the right one? Suddenly the Jedi Code seemed so much more abstract than the ties of blood.
Heritage. Legacies. He wished he could speak of what he was feeling to Qui-Gon. But his Master wouldn't understand. He was deeply committed to the Jedi Code. He did not look back and wonder what he was missing.
And besides, he had abandoned Obi-Wan in order to chase a ghost.
Evenings were long in Gala. The sun set early, and the three moons rose slowly in the navy sky. Obi-Wan liked to walk in the orchard at that hour, when the pale gleam of moonlight turned the fruit on the trees to silver. One evening he was surprised to find Queen Veda sitting on the grass, her back against the thick, multi-stemmed trunk of a muja tree. She wasn't wearing her headdress, and her pale gold hair spilled down to her waist. She looked like a young girl until Obi-Wan drew closer and saw the wasting of illness on her face.
"Sit down, young Obi-Wan," she said, gesturing next to her. "I, too, like the orchard at this time."
Obi-Wan sat next to her, cross-legged and erect in Jedi fashion. He had not seen the Queen since he'd arrived. She looked shockingly worse.
"I like the smell of the grass," Queen Veda murmured, running her hands through it. "Before I was sick, I used to like to look at it from my window. I looked at everything from a window. Now I find I must touch it and smell it and be part of it." She placed a bit of grass in Obi-Wan's palm and closed his fingers over it. "Hold on to life, Obi-Wan. That is my only piece of advice to you."
Obi-Wan saw the marks of tears on the Queen's face. He wished Qui-Gon were here. His Master's calm compassion soothed even the most fevered hearts. What would Qui-Gon say? He would start with something neutral, but sympathetic. He would let the Queen speak, knowing she needed a willing space to talk.
"You are not feeling better," he said carefully.
"No, I am feeling worse," Queen Veda said, resting her head against the trunk. "The pain is very bad at night. I can't sleep. By the middle of the day I feel somewhat better, but at night it begins again. That's why I come out here, before the pain gets bad. I want to remember days I felt well. Days in the country..." The Queen sighed.
"In the country?" Obi-Wan prompted.
"The Tallahs have a country estate west of here," Queen Veda said. "Just after I had fallen ill I went there to recuperate. Maybe it was the fresh air. Or maybe," she said ruefully, "it was being able to rest. No Council of Ministers calling me to meetings. No servants to buzz around me. Just the caretaker and myself. But then it seemed the government could not run without me, so they came to me. Within days, I felt worse than ever. That was the worst thing," she said sadly. "To feel that I was getting better, and then to relapse."