Title: Lost and Found Author: Kat Archive: Sure, just let me know where Category: Angst, alternate universe Characters/Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan (non-slash) Rating: Eep, I suck at this. Probably R. Read the warnings, they're probably a better indication. Warnings: OK, here we go. Obi-torture abounds in here.Obi is a slave in this one, and my version of slaveryis not a happy place. There's physical abuse, and implied sexual abuse of a minor - nothing graphic, but it is implied, so be warned. Oh, and my bad guy's a psycho. However, if you can deal with all that, it does have a happy mushy ending. :) Disclaimer: All recognisable Star Wars characters belong to George Lucas. I am making no money from this, it's done solely out of love. Feedback: Oh please, oh please... Thanks: To my friend The Bear Dog, who thought up all the funky gun names, and put up with me while I was writing this. And to my flatmate, for suggesting I call this story "Bob goes to Denver." (I didn't understand either :) Summary: Set approximately eight months after Jedi Apprentice 2, but Qui-Gon never took Obi-Wan as his apprentice. Now on an undercover mission to investigate an illegal arms trade in the outer rim, Qui-Gon finds Obi-Wan being kept as a slave by the very man he is investigating. Is it the will of the Force throwing them together again? Whatever the answer, Qui-Gon must somehow find a way to both complete his mission and rescue Obi-Wan from slavery. ***Part One*** The battered cargo ship settled heavily onto the small landing pad, its engines whining a little in protest at the maneuver. The setting sun danced across the boxy craft, highlighting the scars and dents in its metal surface. It was an ugly ship, as ships went, but its appearance belied the power it contained. Much like the man currently piloting it. In the cockpit, Qui-Gon Jinn powered down the engines and rose from the pilot's chair, making his way swiftly to his cabin at the rear of the ship. He did not have much time. He needed to prepare, and quickly. Crossing the cabin, he stepped into the small 'fresher and stopped, examining his reflection in the mirror.  He shook his head in faint disbelief. He certainly did not look like himself. In place of the Jedi robes, he now wore battered black leathers, scarred from hard use, and heavy combat boots. A wide belt sat low on his hips, complete with holster, and a shoulder strap held a second holster under his left arm. His hair was pulled back and braided into a single tail, and his face - clean-shaven for once - looked all planes and angles; harsh in the glaring light of the 'fresher. The scar across his chin, usually hidden by his beard, stood out in sharp relief. /I look like a gangster,/ he thought in faint amusement, then sobered. That was the whole point of this; that he be as convincing a criminal as possible.  A man who had come seeking stolen weapons to arm a rebel militia group would not look like he were about to spend a day at the beach. Lives depended on his getting the weapons that were needed. He would be keenly aware of the responsibility placed upon him with this duty. He would be strong - no, *tough* - but wary, too. Ready for action, but not wishing to start fights he could not win. He had a mission. His men were depending on him. He would do what was necessary. He must not fail. As these thoughts flowed smoothly through Qui-Gon's mind, his posture and expression was subtly altering, taking on the personality he was conjuring up. The man before the mirror changed, chameleon-like, slowly shifting into a new shape and form. In a very short time, the calm, dignified Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was gone as though he had never been. In his place stood Quinn Tel-Gon, second in command of a militia group on Koslos, on an urgent mission to purchase weapons that were desperately needed if they were to continue to fight the tyranny. /It is important that I speak of it with passion,/ Qui-Gon thought. /This fight is my life. Koslos *must* be liberated./ Koslos was an isolated outer rim planet that was in the midst of a brutal and bloody civil war, and had been for the past two years. The planet had suffered under a cruel dictatorship government for over a decade before a revolt finally started. The dictatorship was now in the process of being messily overthrown, with rebel militia groups fighting on all fronts. However, the groups were not properly unified - they all fought for the same cause, but opinions were divided on exactly who should take control of the planet after the current government was toppled. Some influential Koslosians were trying to ensure that they would gain power after the war by funding various militia groups, providing them with the means to obtain more and better weapons and thus, hopefully, buying their loyalty. So it was that members of such groups were now frequently making forays into the surrounding systems, to purchase arms by whatever means were possible. Thus the reason why the Jedi Council and the Senate had picked it as his cover - one more militia group on Koslos would not seem unusual; there were dozens of them and no one, not even the Koslosians themselves, really knew all the details of which group was fighting for whom. And while Qui-Gon shuddered to think of the chaos that would reign once the dictatorship was actually overthrown, the confusion was certainly aiding him on this particular mission.  With Republic and Jedi contacts in place to verify his story, he was confident that his cover would hold. /And then,/ he thought, /I can get a good look at this dealer who trades in stolen Republic weapons. And, hopefully, find out who is informing him so well./ The arms thefts had been going on for some time, but over the last six months they had become so perfectly timed that it was clear someone on the inside was passing information to the thieves. No matter how the schedule of transport changed, or what routes were taken, or what decoys were used, the raids still happened. And every time, the raiders seemed to know exactly which ship to hit, and which way they could run without being apprehended. It was too perfect. On investigation, Republic forces had traced some of the sales of the stolen weapons to Kar'vel, another outer rim planet. The man believed to be fronting the sales, and probably behind the raids, was one Gan Gatt, originally from Corellia. Gatt was a hugely wealthy businessman, who ran several legitimate companies, but behind the scenes was suspected to be involved in everything from slave trading to drug dealing. Gatt had taken up residence on Kar'vel as a convenient place to run his shady deals away from the jurisdiction of the Republic forces. However, despite his criminal history, it was clear that Gatt was merely the front for this particular operation. What the Senate really wanted was the name of the insider who was passing information to Gatt and his raiders. And so, the Senate had approached the Jedi Council and asked for a Jedi operative to carry out an undercover mission. The directive: pose as an arms buyer, enter into trading with Gatt and find out where - and from whom - he was getting his information. Basically, the Jedi operative was to be a mole-hunter - and Qui-Gon had been chosen for the hunt. A shrill beeping suddenly sounded from his cabin, and he turned abruptly and strode across to the small astromech droid waiting beside the door. "Report," he said sharply, turning to look at the computer readout on the wall. The information was immediately displayed - a vehicle approaching from the west, heading for the ship. At current speed, ETA was 9 minutes and counting. Qui-Gon turned quickly, walked over to the bed and began donning weapons. Two blasters, one for each holster. A hunting knife attached to his belt, and a second smaller knife in his boot. Twin throwing knives concealed in the cuffs of his jacket. Enough weapons for anyone, surely - and yet he still felt oddly vulnerable without the reassuring weight of his lightsaber hanging at his belt. Blasters and knives were just no substitute. However, he could hardly march into Gatt's residence with a lightsaber on his person - he was bound to be searched, and he would certainly have some trouble explaining why he was carrying a Jedi weapon around. He was taking his 'saber with him - there was no way he was leaving it behind altogether - but he had accepted the necessity of hiding it. He glanced over at the little astrodroid, considering.  As well as carrying a list of what he hoped to obtain and in what quantities, it also had a very well-concealed internal storage chamber - which currently held his lightsaber. The droid would probably be scanned, he mused, but they will be looking for explosives, not for lightsabers. An unlit 'saber was just so much metal and crystal; if indeed the scan picked it up at all, it would just appear to be part of the droid. He turned back to the bed and picked up one last item, a terminal for the ship's computer, and clipped it onto his belt. He glanced around once more to satisfy himself that he had everything, then took a deep breath, centering himself in the Force. He was ready. Turning, he strode through the door, calling to the droid to follow him. It glided smoothly behind him as he made his way to the main hatch and lowered the ramp, then stepped out of the ship. The sun was low in the sky now, moving slowly but surely down towards the horizon. He looked west, squinting against the glare, and saw the distant outline of a vehicle approaching. Purposefully, he walked down the ramp and stepped off, followed by the droid. The area he had been instructed to land in was barren; hard-packed reddish dirt with occasional scrubby plants and little else. It was also remote - there had been no settlements at all for several hundred kilometres. No doubt Gatt would have wanted to set up his little fortress in an isolated area, away from curious eyes - and he was so wealthy that it would be no hardship for him to have everything he needed shipped to him. The vehicle was drawing close now, and Qui-Gon could make out the shape of a large speeder, carrying at least two occupants. He kept his eyes on it as it covered the remaining distance between them, searching for any immediate signs of danger, and was still watching narrowly as it pulled to a smooth stop a few metres away from him. There were three in the speeder, all male; a Phindian, a burly Twi'lek and a human, who was driving. All three looked wary, and Qui-Gon made sure to keep his hands away from his weapons and make no sudden moves.  Gatt's men were sure to be well-armed. As soon as the speeder had stopped, the Twi'lek climbed out, facing Qui-Gon, his hand hovering over his blaster. "You are Tel-Gon?" he asked warily. "Quinn Tel-Gon," Qui-Gon replied. "You are Gatt's welcoming committee, I presume?" The Twi'lek smiled faintly. "You could say that. We are here to escort you to his home, and to ensure that you are what you say you are. Will you consent to a scan?" "Do I have a choice?" Qui-Gon asked, keeping his tone light. The Twi'lek smiled again, and it was not a nice smile.  "No." "Then it seems I must consent." The Twi'lek nodded. "Remove your weapons and lay them down at your feet. All of them." Moving slowly, Qui-Gon did as requested, laying the blasters and various knives down on the ground beside him. The Twi'lek pointed a small, hand-held scanning device at him, watching it's small readout screen, then nodded again. "He's clean. No other weapons. No bugs." "What about the droid?" It was the driver who spoke; a human with deeply tanned skin and close-cropped dark hair. "The droid has a readout of what I need and in what quantities," Qui-Gon answered. "I'll need to bring it." The Twi'lek fiddled with the scanning device for amoment, then directed it at the droid. "It's clean too." "All right then," the driver said. "That's the formalities over with. You can pick up your weapons now, Tel-Gon, and you and your droid can come get in.  Just remember that we have weapons too, so don't try anything." "I assure you, I have no wish to start a fight," Qui-Gon said, picking up his weapons and replacing them. "I'm here to trade, that's all." "Then we won't have any problems," the driver said easily. Qui-Gon directed the droid to situate itself in the space provided for it, at the rear of the speeder, then pulled the computer terminal off his belt and keyed in a command.  Immediately, the ship's ramp began to close. He keyed in another command, ensuring that the ship's controls were locked, then clipped the terminal back on his belt and climbed into the speeder, beside the Twi'lek. Moments later, they started heading west, back the way they had come. ***** The journey to Gatt's home took nearly three hours, and Qui-Gon spent almost all of that time being eyed suspiciously by the Twi'lek. He endeavoured to ignore the scrutiny and concentrated instead on the surroundings. It was full dark after an hour had passed, but Kar'vel's three moons had risen, the bright blue-white globes providing a surprising amount of illumination. The piercing headlights on the speeder weren't insignificant, either. The area changed slowly from flat and barren to mountainous, and as they drew closer to the mountains, the scrubby plants that had decorated the open plains grew denser and more lush, finally culminating in a stretch of open bush that thickened into forest. The speeder changed course to skim lightly along the edge of the trees, following the course of the forest as it curved around towards the mountains. Soon they were in the foothills of the mountain range, and still rising steadily. Although the nearest peaks to them were fairly low, in the light from the moons Qui-Gon could dimly see that they became much higher further in, and estimated that the tallest ones must be several thousand metres high at the summit. The forest cut away as they reached the base of the first peak, and the speeder left it behind, now following the course of the rock. It suddenly accelerated over a steep rise, and a group of buildings, lit both from without and within, came into view on the other side. Qui-Gon watched carefully as they approached, trying to take in as much detail as he could. The main structure was a huge, ornate building, roughly rectangular in shape and rising some six stories above the ground. It was dark grey in colour, blending in well with the surrounding rock, but it was no fortress - the elaborate decoration and large, diamond-shaped windows that ringed each floor looked far more showy than they did functional. Light shone from many of the windows, and the roof appeared better lit still, sending a soft, pale glow up into the sky. Several smaller buildings ringed the main structure, but none of these rose higher than a couple of stories, and most looked like storage areas of some kind. The whole collection of buildings was surrounded by tall lamps which apparently provided a boundary as well as a light source, as the faint blue sheen of a forcefield made a second ring just outside the lamps. The speeder slowed as it approached the forcefield, and there was a momentary pause as the driver pointed a small remote straight ahead and pressed a control on it. With a soft hum, the section of the forcefield immediately in front of them shimmered out of existence. The driver promptly took them through, then paused again on the other side to reactivate the field. "Impressive security," Qui-Gon commented quietly. The driver snorted. "It's mostly just to keep the tarnwolves out. Forest's full of them. They killed a couple of slaves early on, and Mr. Gatt doesn't like losing valuable merchandise when he can avoid it." Slaves. Qui-Gon grimaced inwardly. It made sense that Gatt would have them; what with his wealth, and slavery being as common as it was on the outer rim.  The practice had always appalled him, however, and no matter how often he had witnessed it, he had never quite got over his horror at sentient beings being sold like so much meat. He would have to watch those emotions carefully so as to let nothing slip. He was supposed to have more pressing things on his mind than the ethics of slavery. The speeder skimmed across the courtyard, which was paved with ornate, brick-red cobblestones, and came to a gentle stop in front of the main house. The Twi'lek climbed out of the speeder, followed by the Phindian, and gestured to Qui-Gon to join them. As soon as he was out of the vehicle the driver pulled away, heading towards one of the smaller buildings. "We will take you to your room now," the Twi'lek said, and Qui-Gon turned to him with a questioning look. "My room? I had thought I would be meeting with Mr. Gatt," he said warily. "First we will double-check that you are who you say you are. If everything checks out, you will do business with Mr. Gatt tomorrow." He left unspoken what would happen if everything *didn't* check out, but Qui-Gon read the meaning easily enough. /Gatt is careful, I'll give him that,/ he thought grimly. "What about my droid?" "It will be brought to your room after a further scan." "Very well," he said, nodding, and the Twi'lek turned and strode up the front steps to the main entrance.  Qui-Gon followed him, eyeing the huge bronze-coloured double doors dubiously. /Very pretty. Gatt certainly has expensive tastes./ The Twi'lek entered a code into the keypad beside the doors, and they swung smoothly inwards, opening onto a high-ceilinged hallway. The hall led into a vast open chamber in which the dominant feature was a large, gleaming spiral staircase leading up to a mezzanine floor which ringed the central chamber. To one side, Qui-Gon could also see the familiarly shaped doors of a turbolift, indicating that the staircase was mostly for show. The chamber floor was made of a smooth, pale stone, polished to a mirror-like shine, and a small fountain sat in the very centre of the chamber, the water tinkling gently. The whole atmosphere was one of extravagant opulence. Gatt was clearly a man who enjoyed his wealth, Qui-Gon thought. /And enjoys showing it off, as well./ He glanced around again, taking in the gleaming floor and slick metallic walls, the silence broken only by the noise from the fountain and their footsteps, both of which echoed peculiarly off the high ceiling. The chamber had a feeling of hushed anticipation about it, as if it were waiting for something to happen to break its stillness. It made him uneasy. The Twi'lek led the way to the turbolift and the doors swished open at a touch. He gestured for Qui-Gon to enter, then once he had, followed him in, and the Phindian crowded in after them. The Twi'lek selected a floor on the control pad and the lift doors hissed shut again. Qui-Gon felt the rush of movement as the lift ascended, then the doors opened and the Twi'lek waved him out. The floor the lift had stopped on was no less opulent than the main entrance, but in a different style - the hall was richly carpeted in dark red, and silvery silken hangings lined the walls in between expensive looking works of art, mostly paintings. Qui-Gon found most of them spectacularly ugly. Again, it was silent except for the now-muffled sound of their footsteps, and Qui-Gon wondered if everyone was under orders to stay out of his way until he had been checked out. It seemed as likely a scenario as any. There were doors set at intervals along the hall, and the Twi'lek walked swiftly down to the fourth door on the right, which was standing open. He stopped, turning to Qui-Gon as the other man came up behind him. "This will be your suite while you are here. Mr. Gatt has left a message for you inside, and there is a housekeeping droid that can take care of any requests you have. The door is alarmed and will remain locked unless someone with access opens it. Any questions?" "No, I understand," Qui-Gon replied. He had the feeling that the Twi'lek had made that little speech quite a few times before, if the bored tone was any indication. The Twi'lek nodded, then gestured for Qui-Gon to enter the room. He walked in and heard the door swish shut behind him, followed by a faint clicking sound as the locking mechanism engaged. He turned and saw an identification pad beside the door, with instructions that he should place his hand on it. He did so, and the pad glowed briefly red, then darkened again. The door did not open. /Well, I'm certainly not going anywhere,/ he thought.  /Not unless I want to fight my way out./ He sighed, rubbing a hand across his jaw. /Not that I have a lightsaber to fight with at the moment./ He sincerely hoped that the 'further scan' they wanted to do on the droid would again be looking for explosives and things of that nature. It would be most unfortunate if they found his 'saber. He glanced around the room. It was decorated in much the same style as the hallway, with plush carpeting and wall hangings, and more artworks that were really not to Qui-Gon's taste. A dining table with four chairs sat in one corner of the room, and a large, overstuffed couch and two matching armchairs sat in the centre, facing an entertainment centre which took up most of one wall. /Gatt certainly believes in being a good host - unless he has to kill you, of course,/ Qui-Gon thought grimly. /I suppose I might as well make myself comfortable. There could well be surveillance in here, so I'd better act the part. I wonder if there's a kitchen?/ He glanced between the two doors which led off from the main living area, and as if on cue, a housekeeping droid glided smoothly out of the one to his left.  "Greetings," it said, the mechanical voice mellow. "I am KT49, and I am at your service. Mr. Gatt has left you a message. Do you wish to hear it?" "Yes," Qui-Gon said shortly. A soft hum filled the room, and a fuzzy holo-projection of a powerfully-built blond man appeared in front of him. "Quinn Tel-Gon," the hologram said. "I am Gan Gatt. I regret that I am unable to welcome you to my home in person, but I'm sure you understand the importance of security in my line of work. If everything checks out, we will do business tomorrow. Until then, you must consider yourself my guest. The droid in your suite will provide for any needs you might have, and the kitchen is well-stocked. Please feel free to relax and recover from your long journey. I look forward to doing business with you." A faint whirring noise, and the holo-projection vanished. The droid glided a little closer. "Please let me know if there is anything you require of me, Mr. Tel-Gon. Would you like food and drink prepared?  You must be tired after your journey, sir." "A meal would be good," Qui-Gon said, nodding. He was hungry, and there was no point in refusing food - that would just look suspicious. The best thing he could do was just relax and act like he was enjoying the pampering. As a man hailing from a war-torn planet, Quinn Tel-Gon would no doubt appreciate a bit of relaxation. If he could not do business until tomorrow, then he ought to enjoy this unexpected luxury while it lasted. "I will prepare a meal for you, sir," the droid said, sounding pleased to have something to do. "Do you have any preferences?" "Not really," Qui-Gon said, shrugging. "Just - something simple." "Very well, sir, I will try to comply with that request. The bedroom and refresher are through the door to your right. Please make yourself comfortable."  The droid pivoted and glided back through the door it had come through. Qui-Gon decided that he might as well make use of the said refresher. He was sweaty and dusty, and a shower would probably make him feel a lot better. He turned and headed through the door to the bedroom, raising an eyebrow at the huge bed that dominated the room, then continued into the well-equipped 'fresher.  A huge spa-bath, full of steaming scented water, took up a large portion of the room, but he saw to his relief that there was a shower cubicle in one corner.  Although a soak might be nice, the bath smelled like at least four different floral perfumes, none of which he found terribly appealing. He turned the shower on hard to let the water heat up, then wandered back into the bedroom, took off his boots and laid his arsenal of weapons on the bed - all except for his belt knife, which he took back into the fresher with him, just in case. He quickly stripped off his grimy leathers and tossed them into the cleaning unit, then allowed himself the luxury of a very long, very hot shower. When he finally emerged, he found his now clean clothes waiting for him. He dried himself off and shrugged back into them, strapped on his belt and padded back through the bedroom into the lounge area. The droid was waiting for him. "Your meal is ready, sir," it said. "Would you like to eat now?" "Yes, now will be fine," Qui-Gon said, and wandered over to take a seat at the table. The droid vanished into the kitchen and appeared a moment later with a plate of food and a glass of a clear blue liquid. "The drink is harberry juice, sir, but if that is not to your taste I can bring you something else." "That's fine," Qui-Gon assured it, and the droid inclined its metal head. "Please call me if you require anything else, sir. I will leave you to enjoy our meal." It glided away, back into the kitchen. Qui-Gon ate slowly, considering his situation and running over his plans in his head. He would need to have his wits about him tomorrow if he was going to achieve his goal. He had hoped he would be able to move around a little, and hopefully find some things out about Gatt's operation, but it seemed that was not to be the case - not tonight at least. Even if he wasn't under constant surveillance, he had no doubt that if he attempted to leave these rooms he would be quickly apprehended. However, once he and Gatt had talked, he might be given more freedom. He would have to hope that was the case. Once he had finished his meal he decided that the best thing he could do to preserve his cover would be to try to relax, and sat down on the couch to amuse himself with the entertainment system. After about half an hour of channel-surfing, the door to his suite suddenly hissed open. Qui-Gon was on his feet in an instant, pulling his knife from his belt and whirling with lightning speed, ready to face any possible threat. The only thing that came through the door, however, was the astrodroid he had brought with him from the ship. The door swished shut again behind it, and Qui-Gon caught only the briefest glimpse of the figure who had delivered it. It might have been the human who had driven them here, but he couldn't be sure. He heard the soft click of the locking mechanism engaging again, sighed, and sheathed his knife. The droid beeped merrily at him and Qui-Gon looked down at it, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you seem to still be in one piece," he said grimly, and the droid chirped its agreement. /At least they didn't find my 'saber,/ Qui-Gon thought, relieved. "All right, well, we're stuck here for now. You can shut yourself down for a while if you like." More chirping. Qui-Gon pulled the computer terminal off his belt and glanced at the translation of the droid's squeaking. He snorted in amusement. "I'm sure it wasn't very dignified. Have you got anything else to tell me?" A soft beep that translated in the negative, followed by another apologetic one. "Never mind. Go and recharge." With that, Qui-Gon took himself back to the couch, leaving the droid to f ind a spot to its liking. It took up residence beside the table and its lights dimmed as it closed its power circuits down. After another hour or two of flicking through the various entertainment options, Qui-Gon decided he had had enough. He was tired, and while he was locked in here he might as well get some rest. He could easily maintain enough alertness to sense if anyone else entered the suite. Switching off the entertainment system, he walked through to the bedroom and removed his belt and jacket. He slid his belt knife out of its sheath again and placed it under his pillow, then lay down on the bed and reached out to flick off the light on the bedside table. He slipped easily into the semi-trance state that the Jedi called restful-sleep-in-danger; his eyes closed but a part of his mind still alert at all times. He would be as rested in the morning as if  he had slept normally, but he would know if anyone else came in. The night passed uneventfully, and Qui-Gon used the time to relax and ready himself for the next day. Before he knew it, the chronometer beside the bed was telling him it was morning, and the overhead light in his room began to glow, faintly at first, then more brightly, simulating a rising sun. He got up and moved through a series of gentle stretches designed to loosen his muscles, then went into the 'fresher to ready himself for the day. When he emerged, freshly showered and dressed again in newly cleaned clothes, he felt completely alert. The housekeeping droid glided in to inquire if he would like breakfast, and he replied in the affirmative. It  asked what he would like to eat, to which he replied as he had last night - "Something simple." The droid bustled off again, and barely five minutes later he was seated at the table with his meal and another glass of the blue juice. The droid came over as he was eating. "Mr. Gatt wishes me to relay to you that your credentials have checked out, and he would be pleased to do business with you over dinner tonight," it said smoothly. "He is sorry it cannot be earlier, but he has pressing business which requires his attention until then. Will this be satisfactory?" /Dinner tonight? So what do I do until then?/ Qui-Gon thought, and then repeated the question out loud. "Mr. Gatt will be sending someone shortly to give you a tour of his home. He hopes you will feel welcome to avail yourself of any of the entertainments he can offer you. He is looking forward to meeting you in person tonight, and until then, you must consider yourself his honoured guest." The droid paused. "Will that be satisfactory, sir?" Qui-Gon sighed. /More delays!/ "Yes, that will be fine," he said, not allowing his frustration to show in his voice. /I might as well make the best of it,/ he thought. /If I'm getting a tour, at least I'll get to have a look around, and maybe find out some things about this place./ With that in mind, he went back into the bedroom to finish getting ready, and had just donned the last of his weapons when there came a chime at the door, and he strode out into the main room just as it opened. His visitor was a young human woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a simple pale tunic and skirt. She smiled at him, but Qui-Gon could feel that she was frightened. "Mr. Tel-Gon, I am Darvala. Mr. Gatt has sent me to give you a tour of his home." "All right," Qui-Gon said, nodding. The girl hesitated, and he raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Sir, Mr. Gatt has one further request," she began nervously. "Thus far, he has allowed you to keep your weapons with you as a sigh of good faith. Now he requests that you offer your own gesture of good faith and leave them in your suite for the remainder of your stay here. As you can see, you have not been harmed. Mr. Gatt has no desire to harm potential customers.  Your weapons will not be touched or tampered with. He merely asks that you do not carry them outside your suite while you are here." She glanced up at him through her lashes, her gaze hopeful. Qui-Gon regarded the girl steadily for a moment, his mind working overtime. Gatt was indeed a cunning manipulator. He had wondered from the first why he had been allowed to keep his weapons. Now he saw that Gatt used that as a first attempt to build trust between them.  Naturally, he did not want armed and possibly dangerous strangers wandering loose around his compound. But rather than disarming them straight off, he allowed his guests to keep their weapons, demonstrated that they would not be harmed, then asked them to give up the weapons voluntarily, counting on the fact that they would not wish to upset their host by carrying them after he had requested otherwise. A good start to a business relationship - and one thatmade sure Gatt had the upper hand. And the girl was interesting, too - she had passed on the message hesitantly; as if she feared him. And she did fear him, a little, but he thought most of the fear she felt was directed elsewhere. Something else frightened her - something or someone. Gatt, probably, Qui-Gon thought. She was, however, trying to make Qui-Gon feel powerful by playing up her fear of him. She was probably well-trained in how best to make the request to guarantee cooperation. Did she work for Gatt, or was she a slave? And was there even any difference? /This whole place and everyone in it is untrustworthy,/ Qui-Gon thought. /I must be very careful./ "Very well," he said to the girl. "I will leave my weapons here, as a show of good faith. I imagine I am well outgunned even with them." Darvala smiled at that. "I will wait for you here," she said lightly. "Take your time." Qui-Gon turned and headed back into the bedroom to remove his weapons. He considered keeping the knife he had hidden in his boot, but decided not to. If it was detected it would just make them watch him more closely, while if he cooperated, they might relax their suspicions long enough to let him find out something. Leaving his weapons on the bed, he went back out to  the door. Darvala gestured for him to follow her and led the way down the hall. The tour of Gatt's house took most of the day and served to greatly reinforce Qui-Gon's initial opinion that Gatt was a man who liked his wealth. There was a whole level devoted solely to various entertainments - huge holovid screens, spa pools, indoor sports courts and a large swimming pool were only some of the attractions. However, the atmosphere of barely checked fear in the house belied the frivolous exterior. Qui-Gon could feel that fear rolling through the Force in waves from every slave they came across. The slaves were mostly barefoot or in flimsy sandals, dressed in simple pale tunics and trousers, and all wearing slim silver collars around their necks. Darvala wore no collar, but the band around her right wrist was of the same design, Qui-Gon was sure. He wasn't certain whether they were stun collars or identification tags, but he was quite sure they were a mark of slavery. So she was a slave, but perhaps a more trusted one, if she was allowed to personally entertain the buyers. There were guards as well, outfitted in an almost military-looking uniform and all equipped with heavy blasters. They seemed to pay Qui-Gon almost no attention, but he could feel their eyes on him. He was obviously being carefully watched. /Damn,/ he thought. /That's going to make it difficult to sneak around at all. Well, I'd better just keep playing along, I suppose./ Darvala invited Qui-Gon to pass some time watching a holovid with her and when he agreed, proceeded to cuddle up at his side for the viewing, which led Qui-Gon to suspect that she was trying to seduce him.  She was probably under orders to make herself available to whichever prospective buyer she was entertaining, Qui-Gon thought sadly. /Poor girl./ After that, she arranged for lunch to be served to them, and then took him up through the rest of the house to the roof, which held the gardens. They were really quite spectacular. The "roof" was actually a level in itself, but it was divided into covered and open areas, depending on what kinds of plants were growing there. There were plants from many different worlds, some in specially equipped greenhouses, others growing in the sunlight of the open areas. Flowers burst forth in a riot of colour, backed by leaves of many different shades. Right in the centre there was even a little park, with small trees shading stretches of lawn that were littered with blooms. Qui-Gon didn't even want to imagine how much this had cost to create. Darvala stood in the park, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, letting the sun fall on her face.  "Isn't it beautiful here?" "It is indeed," Qui-Gon replied quietly, and she looked up at him. "You must not see much of beauty on your homeworld while it is in the midst of such a terrible war," she said, looking sympathetic. "I hope you will allow this place to take your cares from you for a little while, before you do business with Mr. Gatt." Qui-Gon shrugged. "I can try," he said. Darva la threw her head back once again, and he watched her curiously. There was something genuine in the movement that had not been present in most of her actions so far. "Do you like it here?" "It's my favourite place," she replied simply, and there was an undertone of such longing in her voice that Qui-Gon winced inwardly. /Poor girl indeed. Slave or not, she is little better than a prisoner here. Thegarden probably makes her feel free./ He sighed. He could not let himself get distracted by one girl's unhappiness. There were more important things at stake here. And Darvala was smiling at him again, the moment of honesty gone. "Come, there is more to see. The gardens are very large." She led him off through the rest of the gardens, then took him back down to the entertainment level and convinced him to watch another holovid with her, darkening the room this time and cuddling even closer to him, confirming his suspicion about the seduction attempt. Thankfully, she appeared to be waiting for him to make the first move, which he didn't. By the time it was over, it was late in the afternoon, and she took him back to his room, telling him that Mr. Gatt would send someone for him when dinner was ready, and adding convincingly that she hoped she would see him later. Then with a calculated smile and a flutter of eyelashes, she left him alone. Qui-Gon went to clean up a little in preparation for dinner, and the astrodroid beeped imperiously at him when he emerged from the bedroom. He glanced at the terminal for the translation. "Yes, you'll get to come to dinner with me. I need you there to tell Gatt what I want to buy, remember?" The droid chirped again, and Qui-Gon shrugged. "I have no idea what we'll be having. What do you care?" It beeped indignantly. Qui-Gon ignored it. A few minutes later, the door chime sounded again, and Qui-Gon turned as it hissed open once again. This time his visitor was a young man in the guard uniform. "Greetings, sir," he said, bowing slightly. "Mr. Gatt has asked me to escort you to dinner." "All right," Qui-Gon said, feeling his heart rate increase ever so slightly. He gestured to the astrodroid. "Come on," he said, and it glided over obligingly. "Lead the way," he told his escort, who nodded and turned to walk down the hall. Qui-Gon and the droid followed. ***End Part One***

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