AVIGALAVIGAL

By Brensgrrl (11/4/99)

Rating: PG-13 thru R; AU, Angst, Romance (No Smut)

Summary: Qui-Gon's first Padawan returns. (I know it's been done to
death, but trust me. . .this time it's different. Very different. )

WARNING: In a flashback sequence, a 16 year old Avigal kisses a 29 year
old Qui. No sex occurs. If this squicks you, read no further.
Nothing happens in this part, though. . .

Archive: Anywhere with my emailed permission.

Feedback: marajade@looknlearn.com. Very welcome, because this piece has not been betaed but flames will be used to light the fireplace!
I know that it's yet another damned hopeless MarySue story and that *I*
of all people should know better than to write stuff like this! yadda, yadda, yadda.

Disclaimer: Everything except Avigal and Tra'Ce (pronounced ' tray-sa')
and the thin plot belongs to George Lucas. I am grateful to be able to
play in his wonderful world of make believe.. I'm broke and only
writing this for fun, so please don't sue me.

(. . .Tip o'the hat to author Leora Tanenbaum. This plot bunny latched
onto my ankle in the Public Library, of all places!)

// // denotes thoughts and telepathy





*********

Part One (PG-13)

"This is METOSP seven-three, METOSP channel seven-three broadcasting to
arriving and departing passenger vessels Coruscant system, Coruscant.
Monitor this channel for
information regarding traffic patterns, conditions at all planetside
starports, and
starport comm control frequencies for landing and departure."

The Duros pilot adjusted the gain on the comm unit and the volume of the
droid
voice increased. He picked up a nearby datapad and stylus and prepared
to write.

"Message to Spacers departing Coruscant for Kuat and Core Worlds
destinations.
Spacers filing flight plans for Core Worlds must transmit proof of Core
Worlds
Travel Clearance to picket platform before jumping from the Inner
Coruscant
Traffic Zone. Please note that Kuat System, Renegg is now a jump-free
zone. I
repeat. No jumps permitted to Renegg. Ships not transmitting such
clearance are subject to security violations and prosecution. . .
Message to Spacers approaching Darien Starport, Coruscant. The western
approach vector will be temporarily closed from 2500 to 2700 hours for a
fireworks display. . . "

Avigal stood quietly behind the pilot's seat and watched the silver-gray
planet spin
below as the general notices droned on. Passengers weren't normally
allowed on the bridge of transport cruisers such as the Firestorm, but
her status as a Jedi Master along with
a promise not to interfere won admission. She found the routine buzz
and chatter on the
bridge of the starship somehow calming. She stared down at the
revolving grooved
ball, mesmerized by the passing flash of metal and permacrete and
plasteel, its countenance criss-crossed with lights, its myriads of
intraplanetary transports skimming like Chadian remoras. Twenty-two
years had passed since she last saw this sight. In fact, she thought
that she would never see it again. She dug her hands into the pockets
of her traveling gown and sighed. file://If the Council hadn't asked--no,
begged--I would never have come back. //

No, she would never have returned to the Jedi Temple, to the demands of
the Council. And
to him. Even this far above the planet, she could sense his waiting
presence as he tested their old training bond. file://That's just like
him. I'll always be a Padawan.// she thought wryly. // Me, a Padawan.
. . //

Those were the innocent days, the naïve days when she believed that the
mere presence of a Jedi could put down rebellions, and quash
disturbances; that the mere word of a Jedi was enough to make warring
parties agree, especially if that Jedi was her Master. Real life had
taught her differently. That some in the galaxy had reason to
promote disorder, perversion and lawlessness; that some had much to
gain from the escalation of every fracas; that, for some, war was good
business. And the control and suppression of the profiteers in
violence had been her stock in trade. file://I wonder what he'd think of
that. What would he say if he knew that I had spent seventeen of the
past twenty-two years crawling in hedgerows, hiding under bridges,
breaking into basements, drenched by the rain on rooftops, vamping in
bedrooms and Force remembers where else, waiting for my quarry like a
predatory animal? But back then, under the circumstances, where else
would I have belonged? What other possible option was left to me? //
She sighed. But she wasn't in the *suppression* business anymore and
there was no need for him to know anything about the dead past. No.
She was an archeologist and historian now.

And now she was back where she really didn't want to be ever again.

The closest
she had ever gotten to returning to Coruscant was a visit to her family
compound on Pelagon in Tapani. And even going back to Pelagon was a
mistake, one that earned a lecture from Aunt Brigit on how poorly the
Jedi made her dress, how she wasn't in the springtime of life anymore,
how nice it would be to have a Jedi Master for a nephew-in-law. But
she couldn't blame Aunt Brigit too much about her notions. After all,
for years she had sent volley after volley of letters home about life at
the Temple, each one gushing about the luminous greatness of her
Master. And she really did think him great. And luminous. And
devastatingly handsome. And wonderful. And everyone in House Pelagia
expected them
to. . .

file://Reliving the past. That's another reason why I should never have
returned.//

"Mistress". Tra'Ce Jalo glided to her side, lifted her left hand out
of its pocket and held it. Despite her student's precocious advancement
in the Jedi arts, she was still a child in so many ways. She hoped that
the Council would understand that. Avigal gave her Padawan a sidelong
glance to reassure herself that the tunics were at least clean, the face
washed, the braid orderly. In response, the Firrerre girl reached up
to stroke the wooly unbrushed braids of Avigal's hair, rearranging the
locks in a gesture reassuring of the familiarity between them.

"Where is your lightsaber?"

"It's packed, Mistress. Along with everything else. "

"It's not supposed to be packed along with everything else. " Avigal
replied evenly " It's supposed to be on you. Jedi are to be mindful of
such things at all times. "

"You aren't wearing yours. . ." another placating stroke of the hair.
Smart aleck child!

Unobtrusively Avigal drew a plain silver cylinder out of her right
pocket, and thumbed a switch. The lightsaber thrummed to life and with
a blinding swirl of skirts, she turned, bringing the violet blade to
within an inch of her apprentice's throat. The pilot swiveled his seat
around, startled.

For an instant, the student's golden eyes widened in shock, the light
from the weapon making the pupils contract. "You'd be useless if any
kind of trouble arose right now." Avigal's tone was mild, almost
seductive, yet dangerous; but Tra'Ce continued to hold her hand, gave
it an affectionate squeeze, in fact.

"Forgive me, please, Mistress. " Tra'Ce looked up at her teacher over
the glaring blade,
her response even.

Avigal switched the lightsaber off, pocketed it.

"I'm sorry, pilot, but my Padawan needed an object lesson." she turned
and smiled, but was met with a grim look that let her know that the
pilot would permit no Jedi on his bridge in the future.

"As for you," Avigal continued, "you will be wearing your lightsaber
when we debark
from this ship. Is that understood? "

"Yes Mistress." Tra'ce gave a little bow as she backed towards the
door, exited, her
black and orange braid flying. Avigal sighed, shaking her head. No
doubt the Padawan was sprinting back to their quarters to dig her weapon
out of the bottom of whatever article of luggage it had been
unceremoniously tossed into. She knew the real reason why Tra'Ce
wasn't wearing the lightsaber. She thought that the lightsaber was too
"easy."
She preferred to arm herself with the Klathat. The child probably had
the twin daggers secreted under her sash the whole time. Avigal
believed that she would never be able to fathom why the gory Klathat
held such an appeal for her twelve-year-old student. The girl was
filled with such light that it couldn't possibly be coming from darkside
tendencies. Usually, the antics of her student brought a lighter mood.
But today even levity wore a mask of foreboding.

Avigal shook her head silently. Maybe what the Council said was true,
and that the girl's ability did tend toward the Shield of the Force, the
Minder Corps.

// The conclusion of this mission can't come soon enough. // she mused.

"This is Coruscant Central Authority, Bureau of Ships and Services.
Confirm identity Firestorm two-five-two-niner-zero-one. . ." a sharp
feminine voice trilled from the
console speaker, interrupting the METOSPs.

"Uploading." The pilot slipped the Firestorm's BoSS identity chit into
its transponder slot.

"Confirmed. Landing coordinates are Kirath seven-one-niner-niner.
Contact Kirath controller on comm channel VX-one-zero-two for further
approach vector and
traffic pattern information. Welcome to Coruscant zero-zero-zero."
BoSS concluded its business, and the ship spiraled down to join the
multitude of others that were diving toward the surface. If it could
be called a surface.

*********
~TBC~