~ THREE ~

Qui-Gon smiled softly to himself as he watched the joyful reunion between the Royal Co-Consorts and their son. Their happiness and love for each other echoed through the Force, like a cleansing white light.

Obi-Wan had a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

Qui-Gon understood his lack of Jedi composure. It always feel good to be the instrument to something nice once in a while. Then he caught sight of Firegold and his own smile turned curious. Firegold hung back from everyone else, observing from the background. In fact she was so quiet and unobtrusive that even the Jedi had almost forgotten she was there.

Qui- Gon studied her discreetly. The strange woman was watching Brandelam's reunion with his parents with a face still like a mirror. Her poise was relaxed, yet Qui-Gon sensed a wariness in her, as though she was constantly on her guard.

She intrigued him, as much as she rankled Obi-Wan's vigilance. Throughout the journey back to the palace, Firegold hadn't said a single word. Brandelam had told him - quite importantly - that she couldn't speak and he was her voice. And the Crown Prince had made it quite clear to everyone present that she was to be treated as a honoured guest, even asking the Jedi to protect her.

Qui-Gon solemnly gave the heir to the throne his word, aware of his apprentice's disapproval.

In Obi-Wan's eyes, she was a complete unknown, not to be trusted until it could be determined whether she was a foe or an ally.

Qui-Gon had a completely different opinion: Firegold was someone who needed help and needed it quite badly.

//Master?// queried Obi-Wan's mental voice.

//Yes, Padawan?//

//I can't help but notice your...preoccupation with her.//

Qui-Gon glanced back at his apprentice. To the world at large, Obi-Wan was paying attention to the reunion happening before them. But the curiosity and slight disapproval he could sense from the younger man painted a different picture. //She is a mystery, Obi-Wan. You can't deny that.//

//I'm not, Master. But she may be a danger.//

//I don't sense danger from her. In fact, I believe she needs help.//

Obi-Wan shot his Master an incredulous look. //From the way she handled herself back there on the rooftop, I doubt she needs help.//

//Ah, Padawan, that's where you're mistaken. A cry for help can come in many different forms.//

//So what are you going to do with her?// Obi-Wan's mental voice sounded resigned, as though he already knew what his Master was going to do.

Qui-Gon smiled inwardly, perversely amused at his apprentice's resignation. //Help her, what else?//

//I was afraid of that,// Obi-Wan sighed.

Qui-Gon pulled his attention back to the present when the Royal Co-Consorts approached them with their son in tow. Branam was grinning widely, unable to keep his joy to himself, and his wife was equally radiant in her happiness. "Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, thank you. Thank you for bringing our son home to us."

"We're glad to be of service, Your Majesties." Qui-Gon replied. "But the truth is, we owed our success to the lady here. She helped the Crown Prince to escape from his kidnappers."

"Ah yes, the lady Firegold." Branam walked briskly over to her. "My son has been telling me of your acts of friendship during his captivity. You have my eternal gratitude. Name your reward and if it's within my power, I'll fulfil it."

Firegold looked lost for a moment, then she hesitatingly pointed to the window. Branam drew a blank, not understanding what she was asking for. It was his son who comprehended her gesture.

"A ship! She wants a ship!" Brandelam's excited face felled as the import of her request finally struck him. "You don't wish to stay here with me? To be my friend?"

Kneeling down, Firegold placed a fist first over her heart, then over his. Qui-Gon recognised the gesture. It stood for 'companions always'.

The gesture eased the gloom on Brandelam's face but not much. "You'll come visit?" he asked hopefully. Firegold nodded solemnly, smoothing a hand through his hair.

"Firegold? Will you smile for me?" She blinked in surprise. "A small one. Please?"

Slowly, the corners of her lips lifted upward and a tentative smile grew. It was a small smile, barely creasing the sides of her mouth but it was enough to make the Crown Prince beam with laughter.

Qui-Gon had to hide a smile of his own. The Crown Prince had a charm that was all too apparent in his young age. He foreseen that someday the young heir would be leaving a trail of broken hearts in court.

The sudden surge in the Force alerted the Jedi to the danger precious seconds before it happened. Reacting instantly, Qui-Gon reached out with the Force and yanked the Crown Prince and Firegold away from the spot of danger, while Obi-Wan did the same for the Royal Co-Consorts.

With Jedi speed, they moved everyone to safety, split second before the ceiling came crashing down in a heavy fall of rubble. As the dust settled, Qui-Gon looked up from his protective crouch over the Crown Prince and Firegold.

His eyes widened. There was a massive hole in the ceiling, and standing on top of the pile of rubble in the centre of the Throne Room was a creature he had only heard of in Jedi lore. It was a cyborg, as tall as a Wookie and twice a Wookie's size. A monstrosity, a perverse marriage of the organic with technology.

Death-coloured flesh grafted intricately with the metallic shades of cybernetic components. At least his head retained some resemblance to a human head, though it was heavily replaced and fortified by cybernetic parts and his eyes glowed a devilish-red. He thrummed with an inhuman power that none in his path could stand up to.

Death and violence clung to the cyborg like a pervasive black cloud. The cyborg was motionless as he stared at Qui-Gon slowly rising to his feet. The Jedi Master remained calm beneath that flat stare, even though he sensed movements behind him. That seemed to draw the cyborg's attention, as he turned his artificial eyes to look beyond him.

"Marionette," the cyborg spoke, "it has been a long time."

Qui-Gon risked a glance over his shoulder. Firegold stood tall and unafraid, body turned sideways to shield the frightened Crown Prince in her arms. He thought she looked haunted, but he couldn't be sure, not from his angle.

//Master?// came his apprentice's worried call.

Qui-Gon's gaze unerringly found Obi-Wan at the other end of the Throne Room, lightsaber blazing. His apprentice had removed his Jedi robe in preparation of a fight. He could not see the Royal Co-Consorts anywhere though. //Have you seen the Co- Consorts to safety?//

//Yes, Master. They escaped through a hidden passageway behind the throne. Master, what is that thing?//

//A cyborg. And he is after Firegold.// Behind him, he could sense Firegold slowly inching towards the great double doors of the Throne Room. The cyborg tracked her movements, never taking his eyes off her.

Qui-Gon decided to draw his attention away from her. The powering up of his lightsaber did the trick. Qui-Gon coolly shed his Jedi robe and assumed a defensive stance, even as the cyborg nailed him with an unholy glare.

For a dizzying moment, his surroundings seemed to shift and warp. And instead of the cyborg, he seemed to see a black-cloaked figure with a demon's face and bloodlust burning deep in yellow eyes confronting him. Then the vision (if that's what it is) passed and he was back in the here and now, facing down a cyborg.

"Touch her not," Qui-Gon warned. "My master has decreed her death."

"The woman is under Jedi protection."

The cyborg made a threatening gesture. "Step aside, human. You cannot defeat me."

"Do not underestimate the power of a Jedi." Sensing that Firegold was finally at the double doors, Qui-Gon sent a quick mental thought to Obi-Wan and made a flicking motion.

Beneath the cyborg's feet, the pile of rubble shifted and collapsed. Unbalanced, the cyborg tumbled to the floor. Qui-Gon took this opportunity to attack, sensing his apprentice doing the same from opposite side. The cyborg remained infernally fast despite the position of weakness he found himself in. Blocking Qui-Gon's lightsaber with a heavily armoured arm, the cyborg pushed the Jedi Master away and rolled to his feet, fluidly countering Obi-Wan's attack.

Beyond the Jedi, the cyborg saw his quarry escaping and he let loose a roar of fury. The cry rumbled through the doors and the stone walls of the palace even as Fireball slipped outside to safety. Just in time to meet the royal guards falling into attack position in the hallway.

"Your Highness!" Saberim greeted with relief. He quickly gestured for his man to come forward to take the Crown Prince.

"The Jedi," Brandelam pointed at the double doors. "You've to help the Jedi."

"We will contain the situation, Your Highness. Right now, we must get you to safety." Brandelam was safely ensconced in the arms of a royal retainer when he realised Firegold made no moves to join him. His friend was staring at the double doors, a somewhat uncertain look on her face.

"Firegold? You can join me. You'll be safe with me." Slowly, Firegold shook her head, a look of resolve settling on her face. Brandelam didn't like that expression at all. "Are you going to fight the monster?" She nodded, stroking Brandelam's hair one last time. Then she sprang into action, moving so fast that no one could react in time. Before Saberim's astonished eyes, she snatched a blast-rifle from him and darted back into the Throne Room, slamming shut the heavy doors in their faces.

In the Throne Room, Qui-Gon was tiring rapidly. The cyborg was inhumanly fast and strong. It took all their Jedi speed and strength just to stay alive.

Obi-Wan wasn't faring much better either. The cyborg, on the other hand, remained as relentless as ever. They have to strike the cyborg down and soon, before the cyborg's superior attributes overwhelm their Force-enhanced abilities.

The cyborg feinted to the right. Qui-Gon matched its attack accordingly. Obi-Wan somersaulted over him to trap the cyborg between them. Lightsabers swinging, they pressed their attack. The cyborg countered and parried, faked a left, then shot out an open palm towards Obi-Wan. A burst of blue energy hit the Padawan point-blank in the chest. Obi-Wan screamed as the energy shock jolted through him. Crumpling, he writhed on the floor in agony.

Distracted by his apprentice's distress, Qui-Gon couldn't avoid the clawed fingers swinging his way. The claws dug painfully into his shoulder and tore away a good piece of his tunic, leaving behind deep bloody gashes on his shoulder and down his sword arm. Fire burning through him, the Jedi Master dropped his lightsaber. The next blow caught him in his midsection, throwing him way across the Throne Room. Qui-Gon laid sprawled on the floor in a heap, dazed from the blow, mind too clouded with pain to feel the Force clearly.

Head swimming, clutching at his wounded arm, he found it hard to catch his breath. He didn't need the Force to know he cracked a rib or two, and his sword arm was useless. The cyborg advance menacingly towards the downed Qui-Gon.

"The power of a Jedi is nothing compared to mine." The impact of a laser bolt against his side caught the cyborg by surprise. Firegold stood near the pile of rubble, blast-rifle in hands. There was a look of such resolve and unspeakable emotions on her face that it drew Qui-Gon from the all- consuming agony of his injuries. "So you've finally decided to stop running," said the cyborg.

Firegold didn't reply. She simply opened fire again. The cyborg barely flinched, as he smoothly changed direction and charged towards the slender woman.

Standing her ground, Firegold met the monstrosity's headlong charge with a spectacular blow. She smashed the blast-rifle into the face of the cyborg with such force that the weapon was instantly mangled.

The cyborg staggered, stunned by the blow.

Pressing her advantage, she whacked it again with the blast-rifle. Tossing the useless remnants of the weapon aside, she followed up with her fists, never allowing the cyborg to regain his balance.

Clutching at his wounds, arm hanging uselessly by his side, Qui-Gon struggled painfully to sit up. He wanted very much to help Firegold, but he was out of the action for the moment. There was nothing he could do until he had regained some kind of advantage.

Clearing his mind, Qui-Gon drew liberally from the Force to ease his pain, heal his wounds and boost his weakened state. He glanced worriedly across the Throne Room and was relieved to see his apprentice too feebly stirring. Then he turned his attention back to the battle. There was no grace nor finesse in the fight raging before his eyes. Only brute strength versus brute strength.

He has seriously misread the woman, Qui-Gon realised. For someone of small stature and apparently gentle disposition, Firegold has a strength and speed equal to that of the cyborg's. She was as relentless and ferocious as the cyborg had been, forcing the cyborg to be on the defensive.

Grabbing the cyborg, Firegold threw him face-down on the floor. Never releasing her grip, she pounded his face into the stone floor again and again with such force that the stone floor cracked and shattered.

//Master...?// came the almost voiceless whisper.

//Obi-Wan, are you all right?// Qui-Gon asked anxiously.

//Numb...can't move. I definitely have better days,// Obi-Wan replied with a trace of his battle humour. Then he turned serious. //What is she, Master?//

//I don't know, Padawan. I don't know.//

The cyborg suddenly bucked, throwing Firegold off his back. She went flying into the pile of rubble. Before she could recover from the impact, the cyborg was upon her, one hand pressing cruelly against her throat and the other fist aiming for her chest.

Firegold blocked his move, pushing against his fist, even as she clawed at his death grip tightening about her throat with her other hand.

Seeing the danger she was in, Qui-Gon moved instinctively to help. Reaching out with the Force, he grasped hold of his fallen lightsaber with his mind alone and guided its path through the air. Whirling and humming, the glowing blade of his lightsaber sliced the back of the cyborg.

The cyborg howled in pain and turned to confront this new opponent. Firegold reacted, slamming her feet into the cyborg and pushed the cyborg away, off- balance. Springing from her fallen position, she slammed into the cyborg, tackling him to the floor. She bunched her fists together and rammed the cyborg's chest.

There was the awful sound of metal buckling beneath her blow. The cyborg screeched in fury and pain. She hammered again, this time easily breaking through the cyborg's armoured shell. Red fluid, distressingly like the colour of blood, spurted outward to stain her face and clothes.

As the cyborg let out a metallic roar of fury, Firegold reached in and yanked out a handful of components, arm stained in blood up to the elbow. The cyborg's screech turned into one of agony. Suddenly, much too swiftly for anyone to notice, capture cables snaked from the cyborg's arms to wrap about Firegold's body and neck.

Surprised, she struggled to break free, but the cables only tightened their painful grip on her, crushing the breath from her. Qui-Gon guided his lightsaber to her rescue, the blazing blade hurling towards the fallen cyborg intent on killing Firegold.

Despite his speed, the cyborg easily evaded his striking lightsaber, moving towards the wide balcony overseeing the deep river valley below. The Jedi Master followed, ignoring the pain coursing through his body. His lightsaber floated before him. He was the greatest swordsman among the Jedi ranks; wielding his lightsaber with his mind alone was an easy feat for him, one that came from years of training. But in his current condition, beset by pain with every movement he made, he found it hard to concentrate.

The cyborg fared not much better himself. His movements were uncoordinated, jerky even. Broken ends trailed from his broken chest, and blood flowed from severed tubes, staining the floor and making it slippery for Qui-Gon.

Firegold laid limp in his capture cables, unconscious, her only free arm flung away from her body, as she was dragged out into the balcony by the cyborg.

"Release her," Qui-Gon commanded as he advanced towards the cyborg, backing him towards the edge of the wide balcony.

The cyborg grinned a feral grin. "Make me."

Qui-Gon pressed on, trying to find a way to free Firegold without getting her further injured. They were out on the spacious balcony now, the wind howling and tearing at Qui-Gon's clothes. He was acutely aware of actually how high up they were on the mountain.

Suddenly, Firegold burst into desperate action. Right before Qui-Gon's startled eyes, she sprang from her prone position and lunged into the cyborg, pushing him towards the balcony edge. With a roar of startled fear, the cyborg toppled over the stone railing. Qui- Gon frantically leapt forward, grabbing Firegold's free arm just as she was dragged over the edge by the heavy weight of the cyborg. Pain shot up his good arm, but Qui-Gon gritted his teeth against it, willing himself not to loose his grip on Firegold. She was still trapped in the capture cables of the cyborg, unable to shake free. And there Firegold hung, the Jedi Master her rope to safety and the cyborg her dead weight to death.

Qui-Gon summoned up the last dregs of his reserves of the Force, even hesitatingly tapping his Padawan's reserves. A renewed flow of strength rushed through him, as Obi- Wan sensed his plight and willingly gave him his strength. Pull, Qui-Gon told himself. And he did, by slow agonising inches.

"No!" the cyborg roared. "I will not die alone." The cyborg raised his other arm, palm open and aimed at Qui-Gon, a point of glowing blue energy growing in intensity in the centre of his palm.

Firegold's eyes widened when she saw the threat and she involuntarily looked up at the Jedi Master. Luminous green gaze met midnight blue. In that moment, a connection was made, unknowingly tying them together. Qui-Gon saw the decision in her eyes; he tried to stop her, but she was too quick.

Firegold twisted her arm from Qui-Gon's grasp. Freed from the rope tying her to safety, she plummeted down the vast valley, taking the cyborg with her. Mere heartbeats later, Qui-Gon felt the death shudder through the Force.

~ EPILOGUE ~
The journey back to Coruscant was quiet. Obi-Wan, fully recovered from the energy shock, hovered uncertainly outside his Master's cabin on board the Republic cruiser. Injuries aside,

Qui-Gon had been withdrawn and silent in the last three days. Somehow Firegold's sacrifice had affected the Jedi Master deeply and Obi-Wan was concerned.

Yet his Master's mood was such that he had no idea how to approach him. Well, no point in debating the issue now. Something had to be done. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released it, centring his focus.

Mentally bracing himself for his Master's gloomy mood, Obi-Wan knocked on the closed door. "Master?"

Silence for a moment. //Come in, Obi-Wan.//

Entering the cabin, Obi-Wan paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior. Qui-Gon was seated cross-legged on the deck, eyes closed in a healing trance, Jedi robe folded neatly about his tall frame. Beneath his robe, Qui-Gon was bare-chest, his shoulder heavily bound in bandages and his equally bandaged arm rested beside his lap. He looked serene as always. No longer did lines of pain marked his face. //Join me, Obi-Wan. It's been a while since we've meditated together.//

Obediently, Obi-Wan sat on the cold deck beside his Master. Drawing his robe close about his body, the Padawan closed his eyes and descended into a light meditative trance.

Master and Padawan's minds reached out and melded easily, as they have done it so many times in the past. In this state they remained, meditating, until Qui-Gon felt it was time to address the real issue at hand.

//You are troubled, Padawan.//

//There are many questions which remained unanswered.//

//Such as?//

//The mastermind behind the Crown Prince's kidnapping? The cyborg's real motive? And...// Obi-Wan hesitated, then went on gamely. //...the woman Firegold.// Obi-Wan fell silent, waiting with abated breath for Qui-Gon's response.

His Master did not speak for several long moments until he feared he would never get his answer. //The identity of the mastermind would have to be solved by Saberim, not us.// Qui- Gon spoke at last, in the same measured tone that was his wont. //It's clear someone in the Theomoralan court is the mastermind and the case will involve politics. As Jedi, we cannot interfere in politics. Our task was to rescue the Crown Prince and bring him home safe and sound. No more, no less.//

//I understand, Master. Still, I cannot help but wonder who's the mastermind.//

//As do I, Obi-Wan.// The admission surprised Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon felt his apprentice's reaction and let loose a mental chuckle. //I may be Jedi, but I am also human.//

Obi-Wan smiled. Then he turned serious. //We know nothing of the cyborg as well, Master.//

//No, we do not.// Qui-Gon conceded. They fell silent again. The cyborg had been smashed to smithereens on the jagged rocks of the cliff-side, totally unsalvageable. With his memory banks completely destroyed, there was no way to identify the cyborg, nor to find out where he was from or why he was sent to kill Firegold.

The Royal Co-Consorts agreed to keep the remains in cold storage until such time the Jedi Council could send better experts to unravel the mystery.

As for Firegold, there was no trace of her body anywhere, leaving them to guess that the rushing river had washed it away or she had survived the fall, impossible as that may sound. //These are not the issues that truly occupy your mind, Obi-Wan.//

Obi-Wan sighed silently. Trust his Master to see right through him. //Firegold's death affect you deeply, Master.//

Qui-Gon did not say anything. Gamely, Obi-Wan went on. //I can understand the Crown Prince's grief. After all, she was his protector during his captivity. But we...you have known her for a few hours, that's all.// He paused, trying to frame his question properly. //Her sacrifice was noble, but why does her death affect you so deeply?//

This time, Qui-Gon did not reply. And Obi-Wan realized that he did not know the answer as well.