DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters (Shal-Nyx Cael), the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. The original character of K'yllyn Myrrdin is the intellectual property of Caeryn Myer, and is used with permission.
Fighting the glowing coals with a metal stick, Qui-Gon wished ruefully for the comfort of the Temple.
The cottage was beautiful and well equipped, small and quaint, obviously used often enough to not fall into disrepair, but it lacked certain elements that he took advantage of with his life on Coruscant, one of these being an internal heating system. The plumbing was modern and efficient, the solar water heater especially, but apparently the native Calanese had forgotten to mention their adherence to older practices... such as fireplaces.
Wandering out in her calf length gauze shift, Shal-Nyx settled into the nest of pillows in front of the fire, touching his head briefly. "Stir it too much and you'll break up the bed of coals."
He sighed. "Please tell me you're better at this than I am."
"Better than I am at cooking."
"That's not saying much," he laughed.
"Thanks ever so much. Just set a log on there and let it catch fire."
He watched as she rolled her neck, loosening the muscles and relaxing back. "Are you feeling better?"
"Stop asking the question, and yes. The air might be better here, I don't know. As long as you stay away from eggs we'll be fine."
"Define 'we.'"
She rewarded him with a warm smile. "You don't recall the last time I was in a bad mood?"
"Eleven years ago. A fellow Padawan ripped your lightsabre from your hand, proceeded to wipe the floor with you and then humiliated you in front of Master Yoda. He avoided you for months after you asked the Council permission to ream him... so yes, I'd like to stay on your good graces."
Her smile was gentle as she extended a hand out, inviting him to lay back. Dusting ash off his hands, Qui-Gon nestled into the soft cushions next to her, entwining their fingers together, shifting her warm flesh up to his, the curve of her hip settling into his waist. She was still a little tired, that much was obvious, but her eyes were regarding him with interest. "Why don't you get a little closer... it'll be warmer, especially since I think I just killed the fire."
She laughed. "The talks start when tomorrow?"
"Mid-day."
"Perfect."
"What? Do you have plans I don't know about?" His curiosity was genuine.
"Yes. A chance to actually do nothing and... " sliding across and manuvering to straddle him, her face drifted close to his, "work some excess energy out."
"Shala... you're kidding right?"
"My stomach is fine for the moment and my hormones are not. It's perfectly normal and perfectly safe for all involved parties, I suggest you take advantage of it." Taking his mouth in a hard kiss, she freed a hand and let her fingers roam.
"Wwwwwwfffftt."
Breaking away, she gave him an incredulous stare.
"As long as you think it okay... "
Laying back into the cushions, her free hand wrapped around his tunic, Shal-Nyx murmured "Shut up and get over here."
Acquiescing finally, Qui-Gon eased his body atop of hers, setting himself up for one of the most rigorous workouts he had had in a good while, making him all the more grateful for the privacy of the cottage.
"Pro-Consul Rasacha, this is vice-chair Crysandra Stoforn taking the place of Chairman Mikas, who extends his sincerest apologies for being unable to attend."
Rasacha sat back in his seat taking a quick look over the Caja woman, quickly deciding it would not be prudent to be hostile at this moment. "Greetings, Madame Stoforn, may I introduce our much awaited third party... this is Qui-Gon Jinn and Shal-Nyx Cael of the Republic."
"Jedi," Stoforn chimed in smoothly. "We are honoured to have you here finally, though I must show surprise at the Senate picking two warriors for peace talks."
Shal-Nyx, her hood at her shoulders, kept the smile off her face. "We're ambassadors, madame chairperson, and skilled diplomats; I'm afraid to say that our swords are not at your service, nor do we wish use them."
There was a moment of tension between the two heads of the continents as they both took the Jedi Knight's words in their own interpretation. Rasacha shrugged, "Whatever your purpose, you're here as we all are. Shall we begin and then break for lunch later?"
Qui-Gon and Shal-Nyx exchanged glances. She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I know, if they serve eggs I'm leaving... "
A bodyguard cast a confused look back to them, immediately stopping their conversation.
Rasacha continued. "Today we need to come to terms with the autonomy clause; Cala will not yield its governmental control over to Caja."
This seemed to catch the attention of the Caja woman. "So are we to ally with you but not unify with you? Shall we next ignore you?"
Qui-Gon stood up and cleared his throat. "If Cas'hay wishes to be a functioning part of the Republic there must be a unity that holds the both of you together. The Galaxy as a whole does not function well as a group of squabbling children."
Stoforn chewed on her lip for a moment. "The people of Caja will not yield up any of their individual freedom to please Cala."
"So you would rather live in conflict?" was the Jedi's simple question.
Both leaders said simultaneously, "No."
"So you both either sacrifice something and come to an agreement or sit here in this room until the sun and moon collide? I do humbly suggest that it is in the best of both of your interests that you come to an acceptable conclusion before the populace makes their own decisions about this treaty."
The room broke into discussion. Saying his piece, Qui-Gon sat back down in his chair and placed a hand on Shal-Nyx's, who gave him a smile. Her eyes were somewhat content, happy for the distraction, pleased to use her senses for something other than introspection. "That one, Stoforn, she's nervous, but not because she's been shoved in the middle of this."
He arched an eyebrow, saying quietly, "How so?"
"I don't know, but she's bringing baggage into this; maybe a hidden agenda."
"I don't feel it wise to call her on that though."
"She'd deny it anyways at this point, especially in public." She paused, casting about once more in the Force, searching for answers. "It's personal so it might not matter; and as for Rasacha, you already know my thoughts on him."
He chuckled under his breath. "Yes. But at least he's clear with his motives."
"I don't care for his idea of justice."
"Obviously you're not the only one. Do you think they've addressed the terrorism?"
She shrugged, her eyes half-closed. "Not directly... "
"Shala, you're... sensing things... you're seeing things beyond your abilities... "
Her gaze shifted very slightly, not having broken the reverie. "I know. Its a stronger connection to the living Force... a connection that started only recently."
"Sweet Maker, yes, it makes perfect sense, I suppose." Reeling back a little, trying to fully comprehend the ramifications, Qui-Gon felt a surge of warmth and worry wash over him, hoping in the back of his mind that the stronger presence of the Force within her wouldn't be too much...
The Calanese were still talking, the many conversations distilling into two, both of them remarkably on topic about the treaty. Finally, "Knights, what have you to say?"
Qui-Gon lifted his head, giving Stoforn a quizzical look; Shal-Nyx finally broke off the reverie to give an interested sigh, "You have a start here, but all of these provisions and clauses must meet with Senatorial standards before the treaty will be accepted by the Republic."
Rasacha huffed. "Alright, well, its time for a break, when we get back, we'll start to go through these paragraph by paragraph and iron out the inconsistencies."
Crys Stoforn nodded in assent and Shal-Nyx, having bargained herself into a paperwork nightmare, bowed her head. Rasacha scooted the heavy wooden chair out and stood, his linen and silk robes rustling, and walked around the table, gesturing for the gathered group of people to scatter and seek food or enjoy a short respite in the garden.
Qui-Gon walked smoothly up behind Shal-Nyx, who was giving the departing Pro-Consul her best half-smile, whispered back to her fellow Jedi, "What did I just get myself into?"
"A lot of work. That treaty is 20 datapads worth of information."
Her sigh was audible.
"It is a simple task, and after this you will be thoroughly fluent in their native language, I'm sure. Perfect job for a Jedi I'm about to restrict from normal duty."
"Qui-Gon!"
His visage was patient as he spun her around to face him. "We have to tell the Council very soon and they'll likely say the same so I'm just jumping the blaster a little and telling you to take it easy. I don't want to endanger you-- either of you."
Crossing her arms, she blinked and cast a desperate look about the room. Dozens of chairs were scattered around, the large rectangular table that the Pro-Consul had been sitting at was strewn with datapads, paper and holographic generators and a half dozen other things. It looked like a paperwork nightmare alright, and she got to help put order to it. "And what will you be doing?"
"Helping you, investigating these terrorist activities, what I can do to help, basically."
"Good, as I understand they take an hour for breaks, so I'm going to head to the cottage and take a quick nap."
He set a hand on her shoulder, "You're not feeling poorly, are you?"
"Tired," she half-laughed, "though I half expected you to be dragging today; I was not a gentle person last night... "
"Trust me, I noticed, and no, I'm not complaining."
Shrugging finally and taking a leisurely stride towards the garden entrance, her hand paused on the ornately carved door jamb, "You are welcome to come along, you know."
And with that she left the great hall, leaving Qui-Gon Jinn alone with his thoughts. At this point his part of the talks was auxiliary so he, presuming she wouldn't allow him to hover over her the whole time, could take the time to relax, meditate and explore this "wild paradise."