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Qui-Gon stretched out his long legs and clasped his hands behind his head. He watched Mace Windu fiddle with the napkin on his plate. The white cloth weaving through dark fingers held the same fascination as a flickering flame. The reason for this lunch is at hand, I would say. A smile seeped into his eyes as he watched the uncharacteristic fidgeting of his friend. A serving droid approached and politely inquired if they were finished. Mace threw the napkin down and scowled at the droid, then motioned for it to clean the table. He sat with arms folded and glared at Qui-Gon. When the droid left, he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table.
"What is so funny?" Mace demanded.
Qui-Gon worked to stop the shaking of his silent laughter. "You seem somewhat, ah, irritated." His shoulders twitched.
"You find this amusing?" Mace frowned.
Qui-Gon shrugged. "Well, at least highly unusual. Your calm facade so rarely cracks, my friend. It is worth the price of the meal to witness such a thing."
"What price? I'm paying," said Mace.
"Oh, that's right, isn't it?" Qui-Gon smiled and arched a brow. "Then you'd better tell me why you dragged me here before you shred something else to pieces."
"How about you?" muttered Mace.
Qui-Gon ignored him and looked out the window to the flat-topped pyramid crowned with five spires. The Jedi Temple stood alone. No buildings crowded it. No general traffic invaded its space. An island of stillness and serenity on a planet of frenzied motion. Peace radiated from the Temple like a homing beacon. Why are we at a restaurant instead of at the Temple? He turned with the question in his eyes. Mace cut him off before he could speak.
"I needed to get out. The political pressure the Council falls under can get to a person at times."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows.
"Yes. Even me," Mace admitted.
"There must be a thousand places we could've met in the Temple," said Qui-Gon.
"And in every one of them I am a member of the Council. Here, we are two friends meeting for a meal and a visit."
Qui-Gon looked around the elegantly furnished private dining room. The walls wrapped them in a cocoon of quiet. The usual restaurant clatter was absent, replaced by the gentle strains of Alderaanian folk music. He thoughtfully stroked the warm wooden arm of the high-backed chair in which he reclined, and looked over Mace's shoulder at the two-dimensional holovid of an Alderaan waterfall. Everything in the room evoked the grace of that peaceful planet and its people. A room that perfectly suited his dark friend - usually.
He turned his eyes back to Mace. "Our private surroundings suggest you want to talk business."
"Indeed." The restlessness fell off his shoulders as Mace settled into the topic at hand. Qui-Gon waited for him to continue. Mace plunged in. "Did you read the Gandeal briefing?"
"Yes. Mining colony. Supplies raw materials to Fondor. Internal dispute."
"What did you think?"
Qui-Gon furrowed his brow. "It's very low-key in the grand scheme of things. But I find myself oddly drawn to it."
A smile tugged at one corner of Mace's mouth.
Qui-Gon asked, "This can't be that pressure situation you alluded to, can it?"
Mace cleared his throat. "Actually, it is."
"What makes this mid-rim backwater so special?"
"It turns out the senator for the Fondor system is a good friend of Chancellor Vallorum's."
"Ah." Qui-Gon nodded. "Doing a little favor-trading, are they?"
"Yes. And we're the favor," Mace grumbled.
"Can't they solve this in-system?"
"They tried, to no avail. Enter the Jedi."
Qui-Gon shrugged. "That's what we're here for."
Mace looked his friend in the eye. "I was hoping that you would..."
"Take the assignment," interrupted Qui-Gon. "Not a problem."
"Oh, it's not that. I knew you'd take it on."
"That sure of me, were you?" Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows.
Mace's black eyes twinkled. "This involves underdogs and lost causes. How could you resist?"
Qui-Gon snorted.
Mace suppressed a smile. "We need two envoys. Obi-Wan isn't ready to tackle the role alone, so we need another Jedi." His face solidified into an ebony sculpture as he continued, "The Council has eliminated every name put forward. We are getting nowhere faster than a Malastare pod-race. And discussion is getting about as pointless." He sighed. "The chancellor is insisting on immediate action. I was hoping to get input from someone I trust outside the Council."
Qui-Gon leaned forward. "Thank you for your confidence, friend." He paused. "What parameters are we dealing with?"
Mace frowned. "Non-humans need not apply. Both sides are intensely xenophobic in that regard. The one group barely tolerates any outlanders at all."
"That eliminates most of the Council. Is this factor causing hard feelings in your discussions?"
"Nothing has surfaced. If it's an issue, they are keeping tight control."
"Send a Council member if it's that critical. What about Adi Gallia? Or even you?"
Mace shook his head. "My days of assignments are long gone, lost in the responsibilities of governing. Adi is negotiating a homeworld dispute." He stroked his jaw. "It has to be someone not immediately obvious. Someone fresh." He sighed. "Someone available."
"So the reports are true," Qui-Gon stated. "I heard there are a lot of hot spots flaring right now. Frustration over the ineffectiveness of the Senate is breaking out in hostilities."
Mace nodded. "As many as we are, the Jedi are spread thin. We are hard pressed to maintain a reasonable balance in the Force. Things are shifting."
"Into chaos?"
"No. We are far from that. Still..." Mace trailed off and stared out the window.
"We are only ever a step away," whispered Qui-Gon.
The two men let the thought hang between them. It was pushed aside by a comfortable silence, born of long friendship. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and let the Force guide his thoughts. He mentally cycled through possible candidates. A face came to mind. He paused, then quashed the image. Moments later it was back. I would tell Obi-Wan to trust his instincts, so why do I hesitate to trust my own?
Qui-Gon let his breath out and opened his eyes. "Alee-Nedra cy Nerac."
"You're joking, right?" blurted Mace.
Their gazes locked. Consternation masked Mace's features. "You're
not kidding, Qui-Gon."
"No."
"She's so young," Mace pointed out.
"Fresh," replied Qui-Gon.
"Stubborn. Never backs down."
"Determined to succeed, no matter the odds."
"Reckless," declared Mace.
"Follows her instincts," Qui-Gon countered.
"Blind to compromise."
"Focused on seeing justice done."
Mace frowned. "Are we talking about the same Jedi?"
Qui-Gon leaned back, his eyes smiling. "Absolutely. The truths we cling to often depend on our point of view, my friend."
Mace splayed his fingers out on the table and examined them. He looked back at his friend. "What do you see in her that I do not?"
Qui-Gon rested his elbows on the chair arms and clasped his hands. "Though she might deny it, she has a strong affinity for the Living Force. I sense ... a softness beneath the crust."
Mace snorted. "The surface has certainly never cracked in my presence."
"You intimidate her," explained Qui-Gon.
"And she faces intimidation with an out-thrust chin and steely glint in her eyes?"
"Why, yes. As you said, backing down is not in Alee's nature."
"I think the only soft one here is you, Qui-Gon," Mace said. He squinted at the other Jedi. "Is she a pet project of yours? It was surprising, to say the least, when you agreed to that little sparring exhibition of hers a couple of months back."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "No project. I think her freshness was contagious - I caught a mild case of fun and couldn't resist the challenge she issued."
"Nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
"But you like her," Mace pressed.
"Yes."
"You think she can handle the situation on Gandeal?"
"Has she been a problem the last little while?" Qui-Gon asked.
"No. But she's been given fairly basic tasks."
Qui-Gon thought about the mission that had cost Alee a dressing down by the Council and the temporary loss of her lightsaber. He smiled, recalling the enthusiastic rendition of events she'd related the last time they'd met. "No observation assignments?"
Mace frowned. "Messenger jobs only."
"I sense Alee is the one for this mission."
"We're talking negotiations here. Who knows what kind of trouble she'll spark." Mace sighed.
"Obi-Wan and I will be right there. I won't let her chase whims and spread chaos." Qui-Gon subtly prodded Mace with the Council's charges against the young Knight.
Mace closed his eyes, arched his neck and lifted his face to the overhead lights. Shadows were driven from his features, giving them a creamy cast. The moment stretched. He relaxed and met Qui-Gon's gaze.
"You have to work with whomever we send. I will present your choice to the Council, but be prepared to defend your position," Mace said.
Qui-Gon looked out the window at the Temple and nodded. "Some things never change."
