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Alee tried to open her eyes. Her body ached, down to the eyelashes. Just a little more sleep. She knew she'd feel better if... The thought trailed to nothing.
Pain. Her right hand throbbed incessantly. Alee blinked several times, forcing her eyes open. She lay on her side, her hand centimeters from her face. Her fingers were wrapped around her lightsaber in a vise-tight grip. The hand wouldn't work. Where's a hydrospanner when I need it?
She rolled slowly, painfully onto her back. Something sharp dug into her hip. Alee moaned, shifted.
"Where am I?"
She fought to see beyond the pain. An orange blur wavered, separated into red and gold strips. The layers stretched far above her. Like walls. Like rock.
"Duros Canyon," she groaned. "Bainot."
Alee struggled to sit up. She tried to draw on the Force and fell back, exhausted.
"No good. Can't concentrate." She stared up at an empty sky, "It's gone."
Numbness blanketed her mind. Oblivion wrapped around her.
Electricity danced up and down her arms and legs. Alee's eyes flew open. It was dark. One. No, two moons floated above her. They melded back into one.
The tingling in her hands and feet increased. Feeling was returning. The lightsaber slipped out of her grip. Pain convulsed her into a fetal position.
"Qui-Gon. I need your help." She projected her thoughts outward. "Hear me."
Alee felt his fingers smooth her brow, twist the tendrils along her hairline, skim over her scalp and caress her neck. She moved her hand to grab his. It wrapped around her braid.
Arms hugging her midsection, Alee sobbed. She drew deep breaths to calm herself.
"Okay. Think. What happened? I was attacked. We fought. I ... was shot."
Alee felt her ribs, her stomach. She frowned. Nothing. No more pain there than anywhere. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"I fell. Blackness swallowed me. The Force ... erupted. Inside. Everywhere. It must have healed the wound. Cushioned the fall."
She sighed softly. "I'll be all right. Get to my ship tomorrow. Then home to Coruscant. To Qui-Gon."
Her eyes drifted shut. "First ... rest ..."
Cold reached out. She shivered to escape its grasp. Morning? Above Alee the canyon's shadows retreated reluctantly as the first sun approached its zenith.
"Half the day gone. I have to move."
I have to stop talking to myself. Alee rolled onto her stomach and pushed. Dizziness assaulted her. She stayed on her hands and knees until it passed. Grasping her lightsaber, she painstakingly stretched to her full 1.7 meters. Her left knee buckled. She staggered slightly, then compensated. Everything else seemed fine - if fine was feeling like she'd been catapulted through an asteroid field in an escape pod.
A slow deliberate spin revealed a narrow trail snaking up the east cliff. No other option presented itself. She traced the path with her eyes until it disappeared then looked up to the sliver of sky above.
"By the Force, I swear there are shorter towers on Coruscant."
Alee limped to the trail head. It was wider than she'd expected. Well used, too. What kind of animal would bother descending into this rocky scar? She looked over her shoulder.
"I hope kryat dragons aren't indigenous to this place."
An hour later Alee collapsed, back against the wall. She absently massaged the aching knee. Her tongue felt swollen. She lifted her face to the sky and imagined standing in her apartment's refresher, water cascading down, running into her mouth. A breeze touched her cheek. Alee.
"Qui-Gon." Her eyes sprang open. She wiped a tear from her cheek and licked it off her finger. She spoke to the breeze, "I'm so hollow. I can't feel the Force. I can't feel you. ... The fall. Must have been the fall."
She pulled herself to her feet and grimaced. Barely a third of the way up. Pain radiated from her knee with each step. Be mindful of the living Force. I wish I could, Qui-Gon. Each step is a moment. Stay in the moment. Her world shrank to the next step. And the next.
The first sun slipped below the horizon as Alee collapsed onto level ground. She rolled away from the precipice, greedily gulping in air.
"Have to get away. Don't want to stumble around here in the dark."
Alee scanned the hills. It had to have been more than twelve hours. Twenty-four even. Why hadn't Jarep found her? Did her ghosts catch up with him?
Five kilometers later she slumped under a tree. Looks almost like the one I rested under yesterday. More gnarled.
The second sun painted the sky, transforming trees into Coruscant towers lit gold by the sun as they watched from the balcony. Qui-Gon sat cross-legged, indulgently allowing Alee to fill his hair with tiny braids.
"Tell me again why you bother with an old man like me."
"The Force keeps you young. Besides, age matters not. It doesn't change who you are." Alee inhaled his scent. "I love who you are."
"And I love you."
She smiled. "You love every living thing."
"Compassion is not love."
"True. Your compassion was my undoing, you know."
"How so?"
"Remember the day you found me outside the main council chambers, shaking like a novice on testing day?"
"A dressing down from the Jedi council is no small matter."
"One touch. One kind word. One look into your bottomless eyes and I was lost."
"I must remember that look next time I am faced with a difficult envoy."
Alee snorted. Her ran her fingers through his hair, undoing her handiwork.
"Have you ever noticed how often the council sends you to deal with female heads of state?"
"So?"
"One look at this beautiful hair and they don't need to see your eyes. They would do anything to do what I do now."
A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. Their fingers met, entwining to become one.
Alee nibbled on stalks of tender grass as she walked.
"I hope these are edible. At least they hold moisture."
The early morning smelled fresh. She grimaced at her own odor - and appearance. Tall boots scuffed and dusty. Beige leggings and tunic stained by dirt and sweat. No cloak. Hardly the ambassador of a proud tradition. The lightsaber thumped its comfort against her thigh.
The pain in her knee had subsided to a dull ache. She hoped it lasted until Agir.
Alee crested a hill and stopped, looked back the way she'd come, noted the direction of the suns. She thought she'd retraced her path, but obviously she was off course. A bustling town sprawled below her. Landspeeders of a type she'd never seen moved through the streets. As did beasts of burden and droids.
Apparently these folk had never evacuated. She could get cleaned up, hitch a ride to the spaceport. She smiled. Things were looking up.
A commemorative plaza of some sort graced the western entrance to the town. Alee fell to her knees at the fountain and splashed water on her face, scooped it into her mouth in great handfuls.
"Come away Milt. City ruffian." Alee looked up to see a woman dragging a child away as he gawked at her over his shoulder. She looked around. Everyone was giving her a wide berth.
Approaching a nearby group, she asked, "Where I might get some food?"
The three humans turned away. A Bothan gazed curiously, then pointed behind her.
The Duros Canyon Cantina. Her pace ate up the distance and she stepped into a dimly lit room. When her eyes had adjusted she saw tables to either side and a bar directly in front of her, manned by a florid human with a wide grin. A friendly face.
Halfway across the room a hand grabbed her arm. A thin-faced, oily man hauled Alee down to his eye level.
"There a masquerade party today?" he sneered as his eyes raked over her. "Better let me keep your toy for you. So's you don't get hurt."
He snatched her lightsaber with his free hand. She clutched his collar and pulled him closer. Her eyes narrowed. The ability to speak doesn't always indicate intelligence.
"Return that or die," she whispered.
He looked into her face and froze. After a long moment, he dropped the lightsaber and threw his hands up.
"No harm done, lady."
He was smarter than she thought. Alee picked the weapon up off the table and continued to the bar.
"Outlander," someone muttered. She smiled. Let them think so.
"What'll it be?"
Alee stared at the barkeep's meaty hands dusting a glass. She sat on a hoover-stool and looked up.
"Food."
"Not particular?"
She shook her head. He reached below the counter and slid a frozen lump into some sort of heating contraption. Thirty seconds later he placed a hot sandwich in front of her.
"Sliced leg of nerf. Just the thing to satisfy deep hunger." He eyed her expectantly.
"Oh. Sorry," she said around a mouthful of succulent meat. She dug into a pouch on her belt and tossed him a standard Republic credit. "Keep the change."
He turned it over in his hands and gave her a strange look. "What'd you do? Rob a museum?" He waved his hand. "Ah ... just eat."
She considered the odd comment as she chewed. Her hunger eased and she looked around. A display case behind the bar caught her eye. An old brown cloak was pinned up under the light. It looked Jedi. She peered at the collar and paled at the sight of the runic inscription neatly embroidered there. The room faded.
"To celebrate 30 years. Open it, Alee." She rolled her eyes at Qui-Gon's insistence. Birthdays. Ugh.
"Oh," she gasped. "It's beautiful."
She pulled a red-brown Jedi cloak from the box, as Qui-Gon caressed her braid. She looked up, eyes shimmering.
"It matches the red highlights in your hair," he whispered. "Read the inscription."
She found the ancient runes on the inside, just below the hood, where no one would see when she wore it.
"The Master is Padawan to the Knight." She looked up, puzzled.
"You have taught me, are teaching me, to love more deeply than I thought possible," Qui-Gon said, tenderly.
"You are so wise. Your compassion is so boundless. What could I ever teach you?"
"Passion. You are my heart," his voice deepened.
"And you are my soul."
"Lady. Lady. You okay?" Thick fingers shook her shoulder.
Alee looked up, gasping, eyes wide with shock.
"Where ... did you ... get that?" Her hand shook as she pointed.
"That old thing? It was the witch's."
"Wha ... what?" Panic crowded the edges of her mind. She pushed it away. "You..."
"Huh? Not me. The previous owner got that prize in the final battle. Balnor can tell you all about it." He waved to a slumped figure in the corner. Her gaze flicked there and back.
"W-Why..."
"Well, he did lose his hand in the fight." The bartender gestured at a small hologram below the cloak. A one-armed man stood in soldier's dress, left hand raised in victory. She squinted. That face. She knew that face. A blue arc flashed through her mind. She was shaking when her eyes shot back to his. Mistaking her look for rapt attention, he continued.
"Tried to take it with him when he retired. He got rich off that bit of booty and all the tourists it drew. I told him, it stays or my money walks out that door. So here it is." He gestured to the cloak and grinned. He stopped. "You sure you're okay?"
"The, the writing..."
"Some old Jedi curse, no doubt. Gives me the shivers to even think of touching the thing." He shuddered to prove his point.
"How ... how could something written with so much love be a curse?" she murmured.
Alee doubled over. Rocked back and forth. Her voice was barely audible.
"This can't be happening. Qui-Gon, tell me it's not happening. It's impossible. It can't be true ..."
A heavy hand settled on her shoulder. "You better leave. You're not well. I don't want any trouble. Might scare the tourists."
Alee flung his hand away and jumped to her feet. Her eyes were wild.
"Don't touch me," she ground out. Her nostrils flared. "I want it back. I want my cloak back."
He stared in disbelief. "You're crazy. Get out."
Alee vaulted over the counter.
"Hey! Get away from that!" the bartender shouted.
She heard several blasters being drawn from their holsters and sneered. A fight. I could use a good fight. She pivoted, holding empty hands for all to see.
"No one needs to get hurt," she spoke calmly. "I only want what's mine."
Alee lowered her right hand to unclip her lightsaber while her left stretched toward the display case latch. A flicker of movement on her right. She spun. A laser bolt ricocheted off her blue blade. She parried three shots. Fire nicked her ear. Another punctured her sleeve. She dropped behind the bar.
"This was a lot easier with the Force." Alee exhaled long and slow. She had hoped having to do without thinking would reconnect her to the flow. "Blast."
She could hear someone sneaking around the end of the counter. Not good. She powered up her blade again.
"Stop!" a gravelly voice bellowed. Everyone froze. "Come out. I am Balnor. I promise you safety."
Alee considered the authoritative tone, then stepped into the open. She noted several disgruntled looks as she moved toward the one called Balnor. Now that he wasn't slouching, she could see he was a giant man. Strong, despite his elderly mien.
"Oh no," she muttered. "Wake me up, Qui-Gon. This is getting out of orbit."
Alee stopped a meter from her foe. It was only two days ago they had fought. Yet, he had aged at least thirty years. She ran her hand over her own cheek, expecting wrinkles. It was smooth.
"Who are you," he rasped.
"I'm your levy." The slap made her stagger back a step.
"Liar! Where did you get these clothes? That makeup? Which of my enemies put you up to this foul trickery?" Spittle ran down his chin.
"Is your conscience bothering you? Shooting an innocent woman. Sacrificing her to your legend." Alee stepped forward, stood tall.
"Shot? I shot no one, witch. The Abomination sucked that Jedi into its eye and exploded." He sneered, "No Jedi is innocent. The Abomination saved us from that one and the Emperor saved us from the rest." He gestured around the room and boomed, "We celebrate our victory every day."
"The rest? What do you mean?" Fear niggled at the edges of her mind.
"Where have you been? Beyond the Outer Rim? Every school child knows how the mighty lord Vader hunted down and destroyed the Jedi. And good riddance, I say."
Nodding all around accompanied his declaration. Alee felt cold seeping into her bones. She had to move before she petrified. She shook her head.
"No. No. That legend we faced wasn't the Abomination. This. This is the Abomination. A galaxy without Jedi. You lie. You lie," her voice rose.
Balnor roared and struck out. At nothing. Alee was already leaping the bar. She slammed feet first into the display case, shattering the glass. She grabbed the cloak and sprang again, adrenaline pumped through her like the Force. Shots whined past her head as she dashed across the room and into the street, crashing into a group of gawkers.
She whirled, ran down the street and around the first corner. An alley. She leaned against the wall, chest heaving. They won't give up their prize easily. They'll search. She moved deeper into the shadows. Some crates blocked her way. Alee looked up and nodded. The hunter won't search for the prey in his own lair. Fastening the cloak around her neck, she climbed onto the boxes and stretched. Her fingers curled over the edge of the roof. Hauling herself up drained the last of her energy.
She rolled away from the edge and crawled along the center of the roof. When she judged herself to be directly above the cantina, she curled up next to a raised exhaust port and covered herself with her cloak.
