Title:  Burn! Burn! Burn!
Author: oqidaun / M. Nicholson

Rated: PG-13 (violence/strong language)

Timeframe:  TPM-ROTS
Characters: Obi-Wan/Anakin/Yoda/OC
Genre: Horror/Suspense
Disclaimer: Thanks for letting me play in your playground, George.

 

Summary: Five years after the events in The Phantom Menace, a call for assistance from an AgriCorps compound sets a Jedi Master on a collision course with an ancient evil and an approaching storm.

 

Author’s Note: I'd like to extend a special THANK YOU to all my readers at TheForce.net’s Jedi Council who nominated Burn! for eleven categories in the 2006 Winter Fanfic Awards! We won Best Canon, Best Drama, Best Epic and Best Ensemble Cast!

 

 

 

Once upon a time, in a Galaxy far far away…

 

 

There was a little girl

Who cried:

Fire! Fire! Fire!

There was a little man

Who said:

Liar! Liar! Liar!

And on a windy night

They all:

Burned! Burned! Burned!

 

--Shodari Immigrant Children's Rhyme.

 

 

 

Prologue:

 

AgriCorps Compound 60249-41, Shoda, Dakari Sector, Mid/Outer Rim Transition Zone

 

Bright silks, soft pillows and exotic women warmed his dreams. Spice filled his nostrils and wrapped him in a blanket of euphoric smoke. Falling into the arms of a rose skinned madam, he embraced the narcotic aroma of her decadent kisses. He raised the hookah pipe to his lips and inhaled. A fit of coughing seized him. The smoke reeked of dry grass and stung his lungs. The seductress opened her mouth to speak, but the only sound to escape her lips was the clamor of a rusted bell violently tearing him from his dream world.

 

Fire, blood, bell, fire, blood, bell, fire, blood, bell—the words tormented him.   Frantically, he threw back the blankets and stumbled barefoot towards the window.  Thick frost coated both sides of the thin glass. He could smell the smoke and hear the roar of the flames above the howling wind, but because of the frost could see nothing save the furious orange glow that filled the window.  A bell clanged rhythmically adding to the chaos and his frustration of not being able to see.

 

Desperately, he scratched at the frost with his fingernails. The brittle glass splintered and sliced into his hand. His bloody fingers pulled the broken shards from the pane and cast them to floor at his feet.  Icy air whooshed into the room.

 

An angry false sun rose on the horizon and defiled the night with its illusions. His heart threatened to rip his chest apart. Mutely, he stepped back from the window through the broken glass. A cold sweat broke across his face and he felt faint.

 

 

The door burst open, “She’s not in her room!” 

 

“I know.”  He picked a sliver of glass from his foot and finished putting on his boots. “Who the hell do you think is ringing that damned bell?”

 

Clenching his fist to stay the bleeding, he grabbed his long brown cloak and chased after the similarly dressed dark skinned woman into the hallway. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and turned.

 

“Where are you going?” she screamed.

 

He did not answer and raced back to his room. The flames from outside illuminated the simple furnishings in a surreal fiery glow. Ignoring his other meager possessions, he ripped open the dresser drawer, seized a small red book and tucked it safely into his robes.  The little book was cold and it burned against his chest.

 

Once more he ran into the hall and finally down the stairs.  Smoke bellowed into the old two story dwelling and he slowed as he approached the front door knowing what he would find on the other side. 

 

The world that greeted him would forever be the setting of his nightmares. 

 

- - -

 

“Where did she get it?” The smoke, wind and exhaustion left his voice hollow and cracked. It was the first thing he had said in twenty four hours.

 

“She took it from Dezan.”

 

“Did she—”

 

“He’s safe. He made to the village to warn them.”

 

“Where is she?”

 

“Still at the bell.”

 

- - -

 

“Are you angry, Banner?”

 

“No.” He bent down and looked into her remorseless eyes. “Anger leads to the dark side. Why—”

 

“Do you hate me, Banner?”

 

Badour, let me ask my questions. I need to know—”

 

“Do you hate me, Banner?”

 

“No, Badour, I do not hate you. I don’t understand you, but I don’t hate you.”  He knelt down in front of the small girl trying to see her face. “Why have you done this?”

 

“I didn’t start the fire.” She shook her head.

 

“Badour, I don’t know if I can believe you.”

 

“The fire was coming. I rang the bell.”

 

“You did more than ring the bell. What happened to the eopies?”  He pointed towards the smoldering remains of the barn and the scattered carcasses.

 

She looked down at her feet. Banner reached forward and lifted the nine-year-old’s chin with his bandaged hand.

 

“I killed them.  When I saw the flames, I took Dezan’s lightsaber while he slept.  I took it into the pen and I killed all of the eopies and then I rang the bell.”

 

“Badour,” his vision blurred with his tears, “why?”

 

“The barn was going to burn,” she said simply. “The fire couldn’t be stopped. They were going to die. Banner, you should not be surprised. You knew.”  The plain faced child tilted her head. “You can’t stop it.”

 

“Why did you write those words?” he whispered.  “Why those words?”

 

She reached forward to touch him and he recoiled.

 

She smiled.

 

“Banner, do you fear me?”

 

- - -

 

“No compromises, Jedi.” His jaw was set and arms folded against his chest. The cold air reddened his pale face and his military tunic was buttoned to his chin.

 

“Please, General Acquilius, if you could give us a chance to—”

 

“I’m not giving you another damn thing. I am the law here and it is my responsibility to keep order. If you’ve not noticed this planet sits in a war zone. Your people demanded to come out here and help the immigrants—bring a little of that Core World civilization to the Mid-Rim. You weren’t invited and you sure as hell haven’t helped anyone.”

 

“General, this was isolated incident. Please do not allow it to taint your view of the AgriCorps. The Republic wants to share its technologies and expertise with developing agricultural societies—”

 

“Is that what you think of us—just a bunch of uncivilized farmers?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I am a representative of the Mandakari Empire. The Jedi think of us as a developing society?”

 

“That’s not what I said.”

 

“I’ll be certain to include that in my report.”  He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “At least we honor our children. We don’t tear them from their mother’s breast only to decide years later that they’re worthless and dump them off on places like this.” He paused to retrieve an archaic nico-baac inhaler from his pocket. Meticulously, he inserted a stimulant capsule into the chamber, ignited it and brought the stem to his lips.

 

“I started hearing all sorts of stories about what goes on out there and the Jedi rejects.  Locals don’t want you round here anymore.  Now this,” he gestured with the inhaler to the expanses of burned range on the either side of his speeder bike, “Over a million acres destroyed. The fire started on your land and you’ve got sixty head of livestock with their throats cut. I find that curious.”

 

“General, we are handling the situation. I’ve contacted the Order,” she assured him.

 

“You can contact your Order to your heart’s content, because I’ve contacted my ‘order’,” he mocked and patted the military insignia on his tunic. “You’re lucky I don’t arrest you for the fire—that’s a capital offense in developing agricultural societies such as this.”

 

“Sir, I think that you’re over reacting to this situation.”

 

“Don’t tempt me,” he clenched the inhaler in his teeth. “My superior gave me full latitude to solve this problem and ordered me to get it solved today. The locals have been talking about a girl. If you don’t get her out of here in twenty four hours, I’ll have riot on my hands and if I end up with a riot,” he jerked his thumb back towards a hard faced solider in black fatigues, “I’m going to send him to bring me a body.” He smiled cruelly. “I have to keep the peace here and if that means being a bit uncivilized, I’ll do just that.”  He swung his leg over the speeder. “What do you expect from a developing society?”

 

- - -

 

There was little left to put into the old BT-3 utility skiff and they packed quickly and quietly. The local laborers had not returned.   A hundred meters from the skiff, the hard faced soldier and three others sat on their stripped down speeder bikes overseeing the evacuation. Elitrea divided her attention between them and the girl. The child sat patiently on the ground, her hands folded in her lap.  A content smile played across her lips.

 

The tall padawan secured the final crate on the skiff and cast a cautious glance at the soldiers. Pulling up the hood of his robe, he approached his master. Less than a month away from his knighting, Dezan d’Andros already conveyed the presence of a formidable Jedi.  He was keenly attuned to the Force and gifted with both a strong sense of honor and humility.

 

“Do you think they’ll let us leave in peace?” he spoke softly.

 

“I feel their animosity as well, Padawan, but they are bound by the orders of their general and I doubt he wants to deal with the paperwork our murders would generate.” She touched his arm and looked deep into his eyes. Through Force she reminded him, “Watch your thoughts around the girl.” 

 

Wordlessly, he nodded.

 

- - -

 

The sun set passively on the scorched lands and dark snow clouds rolled in from the north. The trip to the port city of Shadora from the compound typically took three hours, but the soldiers urged them on faster. Banner remained silent as he piloted the skiff and kept his attention focused in front of him. Passing the last of a series of ancient monoliths, which marked the traditional boundaries of the plains, the soft lights of the port appeared on the horizon.

 

Utilitarian and square, Shadora looked like countless other hastily constructed settlements throughout the Galaxy.  The port welcomed fewer than a thousand immigrants each year and saw very little commercial traffic. Weekly markets sold local crafts and foodstuffs, imported goods remained prohibitively expensive. Martial law prevailed and authorities discouraged civilian participation in the community’s governance. Soldiers patrolled the streets and the strict curfews kept their work to a minimum. Nights were quiet in the little town.

 

The public hangars required special permission to enter after dark, but the port master did not question the hard faced soldier. Housed at the end of a long row of empty buildings, the nondescript Republic cruiser was one of three private transports docked in the hangars. Aside from the Mandakari Occupation and Settlement Authority (MOSA) few beings on Shoda had means for private transport.

 

 

The hum of the cruiser’s preflight cycle echoed through the empty hangar. Banner wiped his hands on his trousers and double checked the skiff to make certain that everything had been moved into the transport’s cargo hold. Elitrea watched suspiciously as he approached the soldiers loitering around the hangar door and accepted the flask one offered. She looked to Dezan who stood ready at the base of the ship’s ramp. The child hovered around the hatch.

 

One by one, the soldiers left. Elitrea raised an eyebrow as Banner returned. Since the fire, he spoke few words and kept to himself. Known for being an affable and talkative man, his behavior seemed exceptionally out of character.  A frown settled on his lips as he withdrew the battered journal from his robes and handed it to her.

 

“Here,” he whispered. “They want to see this.” 

 

She accepted the journal and met his anguished eyes. “You’re not coming. Are you?”

 

“No.” Banner spoke plainly.

 

“Don’t throw this away.”

 

“No,” he repeated and slipped his arms out of the brown robe letting it fall to the floor. In his bandaged hand he held out his lightsaber. When she refused to accept his weapon, he also let it fall to the fuel stained duracrete surface.

 

“Now isn’t the time to do this.”

 

He shook his head. “If there ever was a time—this is it.”  For a moment he looked at Dezan and usually steady padawan seemed torn.

 

Banner Weesoik turned and walked away. 

 

He never looked back.

 

 

 

Chapter One:

Kingdom Mine

 

Brutish port authorities muscled their way through the crowds of refugees checking papers, taking bribes and dragging those unable to comply with either to the deportation terminals. Desperate travelers set up impromptu bazaars in hopes of selling enough of their belongings to pay the bribes. Less resourceful individuals bartered themselves or worse their children.

 

Elitrea stood in the fresher of Dalvin’s Last Drink, one of the many unlicensed taverns in the old warehouse that also masqueraded as the Mooja Intergalactic Space Port.  She needed privacy and the filthy fresher seemed to be only place where she could have a moment to herself.

 

In front of her the pair of fuzzy blue holograms offered little consolation. She had hoped Master M’Daw Gooli of the Council of Reconciliation, would be more sympathetic. Unfortunately, the elderly Corellian Jedi Master only shook her head and reminded her padawan of many years before to be patient. Furthermore, Gooli deferred most of Elitrea’s concerns to Yoda of the High Jedi Council who seemed irritated, or maybe it was just the bad connection.

 

“Most unfortunate, these events are.” It was impossible to read Yoda’s expression, but his voice betrayed little concern. 

 

“My ship is impounded by the Shoda Home Defense and the three commercial transports we’ve used have all had to change their courses because of hyperdrive malfunctions. I’m thinking there’s something more than ‘unfortunate’ to this all.”

 

“Patience, Master Elitrea.” Gooli raised her hands. “We understand the difficulty you are having and a solution has presented itself. Anear Salot has just reported that his team has had quite a bit of success on Abregado-Rae. It’s not far from Fondor. If you can get to Fondor, Obi-Wan Kenobi can take Badour to Anear’s compound on Abregado-Rae. We feel certain that this would be in her best interests.”

 

The fuzzy image of Yoda concurred. “Benefit, the child will from Anear’s influence.”

 

She exhaled, relieved not to have to take Badour all the way to Coruscant. “I am glad to hear that Anear will accept her.  Though, it’s going to be difficult to get transport out of here. It took us three weeks to get across the Mid Rim. The fighting in the Dakari sector has complicated travel in the Mid-Rim. There are a lot of refugees to contend with and the extra security. We’ve been stopped seventeen times—” 

 

“Wait for you, Obi-Wan and Anakin will.” Yoda interrupted.

 

“Elitrea, you must focus on the positive and make it to Fondor as quickly as possible. From there, you and Dezon will return to the Temple. I think it would be best for you both. May the Force be with you.

 

For a moment, her confidence surged and she felt the familiar warmth of the Force coursing through her veins. She left the ‘fresher determined. However, when she turned the corner and saw the look on her padawan’s face, the emptiness returned. 

 

“She’s doing it again…” 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two:

None will be saved…

 

Second only to Kuat itself, Fondor was the Galaxy’s preeminent ship building planet. The crowded streets of Fondor City attested to the different opportunities shipbuilding offered. Gifted students from the prestigious Academy of Engineering and Design, Zero-G fusion welders, investment bankers, tech representatives, ore miners and assorted opportunists rubbed elbows in the stim-caf houses along Kuat Avenue (recently renamed in honor of KDY’s substantial investment in the city beautification project). Fondor’s youthful population and vigorous economy preserved the world’s perennial boom-planet image.

 

As she leaned over the edge of the steel patio railing, she allowed herself her first smile in weeks. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Obi-Wan.”

 

“Elitrea,” he smiled warmly and waited for her to join him. In the short time Obi-Wan had been on Fondor, he had already become a regular in the Gear House café. “Had I heard about your difficulties earlier, we’d met up with you some where in the Inner Rim.” He motioned to the server droid to bring another mug of Alderaanean tea.

 

“I wouldn’t wish the Mooja Intergalactic Spaceport on anyone. Don’t worry about it.”

 

“You mean they’ve rebuilt it? Qui-Gon and I were there right after it was bombed and the Port Authority had moved everything across the street into an old warehouse.”

 

“No, it’s still in the warehouse. I think they just moved the sign. Fondor’s a nice change, superficial, but hopeful.” She took a cautious sip of the hot tea. “How do you like it?”

 

“Two weeks with Anakin on Fondor? He’s under the impression we’re on some sort of vacation.”

 

“He’s mechanically inclined to say the least. I have never seen someone so young, so gifted.”

 

“I think the Academy of Engineering and Design wants to recruit him. I fear I’m going to have to bludgeon him to drag him out of here.  If he were only half as gifted controlling his temper and impulsiveness as he is with machines, they would be asking him what type of chair he’d like in the High Council Chamber. As it stands, I spend my days sounding like an irritable nanny droid. Of course,” he smiled wickedly. “You have Dezan-the-Good. I don’t think there’s ever been such a scramble for a padawan. Although, I will say that you’re missing out on a bonding experience not having had the opportunity to post bail for him.”

 

“Poor Anakin,” she laughed. “Perhaps, your delinquent padawan can stay here with me and Dezon while you take Badour to Abregado-Rae”

 

“I’d be lost with out him.” Obi-Wan put his hand to his forehead dramatically. “Actually, we need to be on Corellia next week. I’m not going to be able to backtrack; it’s going to have to be a fast trip.”

 

Elitrea’s mouth tightened. “She’s difficult, Obi-Wan.”

 

“What do you mean?” Her sudden change in mood caught him off guard.

 

“It’s hard to describe. She has rather elaborate visions and a tendency to act on them—violently. She’s a bit much for a padawan to deal with. Dezan is nearly twenty years old and she has managed to rile him. Anakin is only fourteen and you’ve said yourself that he’s high strung.”

 

“This is what happened on Shoda?” Obi-Wan had only heard parts of the story.

 

“The Council for Reconciliation decided she would do best in the corps and shortly after her eighth birthday sent her to Banner Weesoik’s project on Shoda.”

 

“Banner was the only classmate I ever remembered being happy to go to the Corps. He’s a good organizer.” Obi-Wan also remembered him as a clown.

 

“Banner sent a message to the Reconciliation Council that he was concerned,” she continued. “Initially, Badour got on well with the village children to the point that some of the local families talked about adopting her since she was still so young, but then one day the children didn’t want to play with her. The families didn’t want her around. Apparently, she started telling people when they were going to die.”

 

“Delightful habit for a small child.”

 

“Very, and she has a tendency to be correct.” Elitrea toyed absently with her spoon as she decided how to explain what happened next. “Banner tried to encourage her to stop. He kept in contact with the Rec Council and Yarael Poof on the High Council.   She responded to Banner’s redirection and she shifted her attention to animals.  He also found her a journal so that she could record her visions and reflect on them.” Elitrea reached inside her satchel and handed the small plastisheet book to Obi-Wan. “This was Banner’s breaking point.”

 

Obi-Wan flipped through the pages of drawings and notes, “She did this by herself?”

 

“She did this in one night. There’s over a hundred and fifty pages. Banner counted twenty distinct scripts in at least four languages. She’s eight, Obi-Wan.”  A cold chill seized her as she remembered Banner risking his life to save the book.

 

“She sounds charming. When do I get to meet her?”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

My will be done…

 

Anakin glanced up at the chrono and launched into a litany of curses a Hutt would find impressive and fortunately, Obi-Wan was no where to be found. What had once been a secondary cooling unit spread out in seventy three pieces around the lanky padawan.  The mysterious disappearance of the seventy-fourth piece inspired the Huttese profanity.  Two hours earlier, the replacement of the relay switch seemed like a really great idea, now he was not quite so certain. He reached for the ship’s holo manual, which he sincerely believed had been written by one of Yoda’s kinsbeings, and the missing gasket spacer tumbled out of his sleeve. A look of relief washed across his face as he leapt to his feet to catch the wayward part before it rolled down into the grating in front of the small ship’s ramp. 

 

At the foot of the ramp stood a tired looking young man. Anakin almost failed to recognize him. 

 

“Dez?” Anakin quickly smiled. The other padawan was older, but Anakin had sparred with him a number of times in the Temple. “Hey, welcome to Fondor!”

 

Dezan regarded him blankly before responding. “Anakin.”

 

Preoccupied with his cooling unit assembly concerns, Anakin failed to notice the contempt in his voice. “Come lend me a hand, will you?  I’ve got to get this thing back together before Obi-Wan finds out or he’ll chew my head off.”

 

“Certainly.”

 

Quietly, Dezan watched as Anakin reassembled the cooling unit. After several attempts to draw him into conversation failed, Anakin lapsed into one of his long winded monologues about growing up on Tatooine.

 

“My mom used to make this soup out of figs. We couldn’t always get figs as they’re imported and expensive, but she would for special occasions—like my birthday. They’ve made it for me at the Temple before, but it doesn’t taste the same. I give them credit for trying, but it doesn’t do it justice. It doesn’t taste like home. You know the first chance I get—when I really get to go somewhere I want to go—I’m going home and having my mother’s cooking.”

 

When Anakin spoke of “home” it always meant Tatooine. His unceasing one-sided discussions of growing up on the desert planet often alienated him from the other padawans who felt he lorded his “normal” childhood over them.  The sainthood of Shmi Skywalker was well known by his cohorts.

 

While the younger padawan spoke, Dezan fantasized about putting the screwdriver he had been nervously toying with through Anakin’s skull. The polite smile and occasional nod as Anakin rambled on about his mother had nothing to do with the story or Dezan’s desire to be a good listener. Instead, his expressions were manifestations of his eagerness to commit a brutal murder. In his mind he moved through the paces repeatedly. Ten minutes into Anakin’s tale, he had already killed him in his mind fifteen times.

 

Anakin was a meter and a half away. It would take two steps, yet he would have the element of surprise. Carefully, he checked the sharpness of the end of the screwdriver and gauged how much pressure it would take to ram it through his forehead. He decided it would be best to grasp the screwdriver with his right hand while simultaneously driving his left elbow into Anakin’s windpipe. If he hit him hard enough in the throat, then he could slow down and make certain his victim understood what was happening. He would use his own hands, a makeshift weapon and his desperation to destroy him—not the Force.

 

Abruptly, Anakin stopped his Tatooine spiel. “Dez, is something wrong?”

 

“I could save the Galaxy with this…” He wrapped his fingers tightly around the handle, his eyes darkened. He started to move forward.

 

 “A screwdriver?” Anakin straightened up and folded his arms; suddenly wary of the other padawan, but not enough to rein in his challenge. “How do you suppose?”

 

Visibly Dezan broke out in a cold sweat. He had not anticipated Anakin’s reaction. He starred at the tool and his shaking hands. Panic threatened to overtake him. He struggled with the violent desire coiled up in his stomach. A voice in his head whispered, “If you do nothing now, you’ll be his accomplice later…”

 

Dezan looked at the padawan in front of him and timidly reached into the Force. Anakin would be a very dangerous adversary to provoke. As he touched the Force, a hint of reason crept into his clouded mind. He would not be successful.  For a moment he saw himself as clear as though he was standing in Anakin’s place. He saw a cowering wreck of a human being, driven by fear and deformed by madness.

 

The screwdriver clanged loudly as it struck the floor.

 

Desperately, the darkness surged in him, yet his terror kept his feet planted. For days he had obsessed over the opportunity to catch the Chosen One alone and end his life.  His dark dreams revealed thousands of murderous possibilities. His entire existence became focused on the necessity of changing the future. Willingly, he gave himself to darkness so that others might live. His sacrifice was unavoidable. There should have been no turning back the moment he seized the screwdriver, but now his failure was complete.

 

He failed billions.

 

“You’re not going to get the pleasure of killing me, Anakin.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

 

Anakin shifted his weight to facilitate drawing his lightsaber. He realized he was in a precarious place, but did not understand why.  However, “why?” was a secondary concern, self preservation always being his first. He could feel the temperature in the room drop as the darkness wrapped itself around the wild-eyed padawan. However, Anakin was not afraid. He knew that Dezan was crippled by his own fear and fear could be a powerful ally.

 

He spoke slowly, coaxingly, “Dezan, what are you talking about?”

 

“You’re not going to kill me…” He spun around and raced down the ramp.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four:

Guide the blind…

 

The gray sky wept and it filled her with joy. Ten feet in front of the sour faced man she jumped in puddles and squealed with delight as the drops grew heavier.  Her tiny hands eagerly patted the bark of the narrow Zan’thor fruit trees.  She struggled against the temptation to climb the trees and steal their unripe fruit. A glance over her shoulder reminded her that the frowning Jedi still followed. He promised her sweets if she would stay in sight as they walked to the dock. Badour liked sweets and was on her best behavior. She could hardly contain her glee as she waited anxiously for him under the awning outside the sweet shop.

 

“Aren’t you a happy girl?”  A woman exiting the shop paused beside her.

 

“Of course I am,” she beamed. “I’ve never seen the trees when I’ve been here before.”

The woman adjusted her cloak and looked down at the plain faced child. “Sweetie, those trees are twenty years old. Are you sure you’ve been here when the trees weren’t?”

 

“Several times, except when I’m here the sky is red and the trees are on fire.”  She nervously bounced up and down wishing the Jedi would walk faster. “Oh, and that building,” she pointed across the street, “it’s gone, too.”

 

The woman did a double take at the impressive Fondor Community Cultural Center building and narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

 

She hated it when they refused to understand. Good behavior or not, she did not tolerate ignorance. She smiled more broadly and tried to explain. “The planet is destroyed after the shipyards. It’s a bit of an accident, but very beautiful.”  She patted her foot and began to worry that the Jedi was intentionally walking slow.

 

“What a horrid imagination! That’s hardly something to smile about,” the older woman frowned.

 

Coolly, she turned and looked in the woman’s dark brown eyes. “It’s not like it’s going to affect you,” she said slowly. “Don’t worry you’ll be dead by the end of this year—the doctor didn’t notice the other growth. Your son Baxter’s children will die long before the planet; in fact they won’t outlive their parents. Your whole family will be but a memory before the Emperor even takes his throne.” 

 

Silently, the woman began to move away, but her eyes remained fixed on the child.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget you.”  She giggled as she waved good-bye.

 

---

 

Clutching her bag of candies like a treasure, the small child skipped along beside him.   Obi-Wan was relieved that she could be bought off with sweets and that she did not talk much. Quite frankly, he wondered what Elitrea meant when she described her as difficult. While it was apparent that the child was Force sensitive, he failed to note any malice in her. However, it did occur to him that perhaps spending the past five years with Anakin had desensitized him to the types of emotions Jedi considered dangerous or disruptive in the young.  Obi-Wan likened Anakin’s presence in the Force to a supernova and acknowledged that at times it blinded him to some of the smaller disturbances.   Regardless, the child was reasonably pleasant, if a bit over eager to run ahead and talk to strangers.

 

The public dock where their Republic-class transport waited was busy for a late afternoon and Obi-Wan hoped that Anakin had put their name on the departure list with the air-traffic control center.  The child made him edgy not because of what Elitrea suggested, but the simple fact he did not like children. He hoped their trip would be uneventful and short. Their schedule dictated that they had to be on Corellia in a week to provide return escort for a party of Mid-Rim senators who had been taking part in the Corellian Trade Summit. Obi-Wan always liked to be early.

 

The child stopped outside of the hangar and waited.  She was too small to reach the door code.  It seemed to Obi-Wan that sometimes the Jedi Order forgot that they were dealing with children. Aside from what Elitrea had told him, he knew very little about what had happened. His and Anakin’s involvement with the child was purely accidental. They had finished working out an agreement between the Fondor Ore Miners Union and the Kuat Labor Board well ahead of schedule when the message came from the High Council that they would be taking on a passenger. They received few details other than that there had been some problems in the Mid-Rim. Personally, Obi-Wan wondered why the Council did not send the child home to her parents.  Certainly the material in her journal betrayed either a great degree of clairvoyant ability or creativity, but he did not feel she posed a threat.

 

“Obi-Wan, where are we going?”

 

He was surprised Elitrea neglected to tell the child; however, she had seemed quite eager to leave her in his hands and did so without lengthy goodbyes. “Badour, I’ve been asked to take you to Abregado-Rae, where you will help Master Anear with his farming project. It is not a long trip and you’ll be very happy there.”

 

“I don’t think so.” She responded matter-of-factly.

 

Undeterred, Obi-Wan opened the door and pushed her inside the hangar. “You’ll get used to it and you’ll have a fine time.”

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

 

He stopped. “Badour, it is not my decision to make. You will go to Abregado-Rae as the Council has decided it would be best.”

 

“No.”  She was resolute.

 

Amazed by the ground he was losing to the nine year old, he changed