French phrases supplied by Brenda Bell.

Coruscant: Capitol/City planet of the Republic and home of the main Jedi Temple
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It was with a sense of relief that Qui-Gon finally stepped off the Republic ship that had brought them from Harka V and helped the Healers load Ayar into a Bacta tank to speed his healing. Even though the trip had been relatively short, it had been most wearing.

In order to keep Ayar as stablized as possible, he had had to keep the young man in a state of constant slumber by using the Force. It seemed some credit-counter in charge of their transportation had neglected to insure their ride had more than just a single medical droid-- and a basic one at that. All it was able to add beyond Qui-Gon's own assessment of Ayar's condition was that the lad seemed to have picked up some sort of blood infection. The dratted thing didn't even come with a supply of Bacta for Force's sake! Qui-Gon took a deep breath and willed his irritation to leave his mind. Financial cost-cutters of the Republic weren't what were really troubling him anyay. Ever since being attacked, his padawan had been acting like he was walking on Boolard eggshells--- constantly on extreme alert and as edgy as a WyclCat, insisting that Ayar was both dangerous and not what he seemed even though Qui-Gon, himself sensed nothing out of place. Perhaps he should have the Healers take a look at Obi-Wan as well. Maybe just having the Healers confirm for his pupil that all was as well as could be under the circumstances would be enough to restore Kenobi's calm. He hoped so. He was just a couple of years shy of proclaiming to the Council Obi-Wan's readiness to face his Trials and become a full Knight. To have to delay that because of some sudden irrational fear was painful to contemplate. Obi-Wan would make an exceptional Knight-- of this he was sure. He was very talented and would one day surpass his own Master.

A commotion from inside the medical room dragged Qui-Gon's mind back to the reality of the moment. Inside the Bacta Tank, Inav Ayar's body was thrashing about wildy, his face contorted in pain, eyes screwed tightly shut. Outside the Tank the Healers were gathering the Force together in an attempt to calm him. Qui-Gon caught the attention of one of them-- a six-limbed Zaoacian. He appeared highly flustered.

"What is happening?"

"His body is dealing with the Bacta in an unforseen way."

"Unforseen?" the Jedi Master pressed, seeking more information. (Zaoacians were reknowned for being masters of the understatement.). Bacta was a miracle substance helpful to countless species. That someone-- especially someone of humanoid origin-- would react badly to it was unheard of.

"His body's immune system is treating it as an invader." The Zaoacian Healer looked helplessly at their writhing patient. "There is no record of Padawan Ayar ever exhibiting such an allergic reaction before. We are at a loss to ex--"

The Healer's eyes went wide as a resounding crashing was heard. His fellow workers quickly backed away as a section of the Tank broke open, spilling bacta and its agitated occupant out into the facility. He collapsed onto the floor while slight gashes created by the broken glass slowly dripped down his skin along with the bacta fluids. Qui-Gon started to rush forward to aid the padawan when the soaking wet apprentice lifted his face. For a brief instant Qui-Gon thought he saw red in place of the purple pupils and twin fangs poking past a trembling upper lip. Only for an instant and then he was gazing once more at the recognizable features of Master Ta'okin's protege. Qui-Gon stopped to blink in hesitation. Was Obi-Wan's hallucination rubbing off on him? He felt a hand on his arm urgently pulling him back a few steps. It was his padawan-- lightsaber lit and held in a defensive position.

"Obi-Wan, I told you to wait outside."

His apprentice merely shook off the reprimand, but his defiant look was aimed soley at the MediLab's patient. "Did it hurt you, Master?"

Before Qui-Gonn could reply the figure of Ayar made a sound that could only be described as the whimper of someone well and truly scared out of his wits.

"Mon Dieu... ceci... c'est vraiment l'enfer ici. Je suis a l'enfer. Je suis a l'enfer..."

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon for help, but his Master just gave a slight shake of the head. It was not a language he was familiar with either. Something Ayar must have picked up on one of his training missions? One of the Healers (none of whom were Human though most were vaguely humanoid) reached out to the trembling man with his fifth hand in what was meant as a calming gesture. They could all feel the padawan's rising fear. Sith-- the way he was broadcasting with his mental shields totally down it was likely the entire Temple could feel it!

"Demons! Ne me touchez pas," the threatening growl stopped the Healer from advancing more, but this was apparently not good enough for 'Ayar' (not that Obi-Wan believed for a moment that this *was* Ayar) as the growling man backed as far away from them as he could-- especially from the Healers.

Qui-Gonn decided to try. "Ayar," he began in the soothing, reasonable voice that had stood him in such good stead as a mediator for the Republic--- ignoring his apprentice's strong mental denial of the rightness of using that name for the moment, "Ayar, you have no reason to fear us. We are only trying to aid your recovery. You are injured and disoriented from the loss of your bond. Let the Healers--"

"A-a yar?" The fear-stricken face frowned in puzzlement as if trying to work something out or pull forth a long forgotten memory. "I.. who.. be..?" The dark blonde hair flew from side to side as the man growled again--- this time in frustration as he spoke words haltingly--- as if he was unfamiliar with the language he was using. "Not. ... not right. W-why... ?" The purplish eyes looked anguished as they flitted first upon the Master Jedi then his Padawan. "W-who?"

Well.. at least the words were in Republican Standard, the Jedi Master thought silently. But his rising fear and confusion were palpatible things in the Force and his own student's aggressive stance was not helping matters. Qui-Gon signaled Obi-Wan to turn off his lightsaber--- which the young Jedi did with open reluctance. 'Ayar's mouth dropped a little at the sight of the blue blade disappearing, letting out another small whimper.

The Jedi Master waved a hand to get his attention again. Darkened eyes centered on him and he put a bit of the Force into his words. "You're name is Inav Ayar, Padawan. Don't you remember? Inav Ayar."

|| So sure of that, you are? || asked a familiar voice in his head just moments before a very short green alien entered the room accompanyied by a dark-skinned human male.

"Master Yoda. Mace. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated," Qui-Gon nodded in acknowledgement of the the two highest ranking Council members. "We are having a problem with Padawan Ayar, who is not feeling himself just now. The traumas he has suffered on--"

Jinn felt his former trainer's mild laughter. One of Yoda's long ears lifted slightly in amusement.

||With understatement always speaking are you. Hmmm... indeed is problem with Padawan Ayar. But not problem you think.||

++What do you mean, Master?++

Yoda gave instructions for all the non-humans other than himself to leave the room. As they silently left in an orderly fashion, the Jedi felt the fear emanating from the wounded padawan ease off a fraction. Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan noticed that Ayar's attention had been practically riveted to Yoda since he had entered. He was watching the other like a he was sure Yoda was going to turn and flay him alive if he took his gaze away from him for even one second. There was terror in those eyes and something else, Qui-Gon decided. A sense of accepted hopelessness.

"Your Padawan correct be, Master Jinn. This one Ayar is not."

If he had not sensed the seriousness of the situation, Obi-Wan would have flashed his Master a triumphant grin at having his instincts vindicated by arguably the wisest of the Jedi.

Ignoring the sense of his trainee's elation coming through their mutual training bond, Qui-Gon pursed his lips. Yoda had once been to him what he was now to Obi-Wan and he had no wish to irk him unduly. "Master Yoda, no disrespect, but if this is not Padawan Ayar... then who?"

"A good question is. Discover shall we?" Smiling slightly, Yoda tottered closer to the silently watching object of their discussion until he sensed that any closer would cause the 25-year old's heart to give out out of pure fright. In as gentle a voice as possible he sent a Force-enhanced question to him.

"Who you are?"

'Ayar' licked his lips nervously. "N-nick... " he took a deep breath, "I am Nicholas de Brabant"

Silence as everyone else in the room digested this unexpected declaration; Yoda chewed thoughtfully on his walking stick.

"Who they are?" Yoda gestured with his gimmer stick at the others.

Iridescently night eyes never deviated from the diminuitive Jedi Master. "I d-don't know. Servants?"

"And I am whom?" Yoda asked, neither correcting nor agreeing with that questioning response.

"You c-commanded. Are you the...the.." they waited while he seemed to be searching for the most proper word out of a just-learned vocabulary. "...Sith Lord?"

The other Jedi stiffened at that, but Yoda just smiled as if the other had told a good, though somewhat offcolor joke.

"Why choose you for me that?"

"You are a... you are evil... you.. um.. you look evil."

Now Yoda was openly laughing. "Am past prime much, but think truly look so? Tell you, young one, at over 800-years look this good you will not!"

The alien calling himself 'Nicholas' stared at the Jedi master. From the twitching of his mouth, Obi-Wan was certain he was trying to suppress a giggle. He failed, but there was obvious despair mixed in with the mirth... and maybe a touch of indignation.

"I AM 800-years old--- as I am sure you already knew having been waiting for my spirit all this time. If I had known that I would have ended up here after all, I would certaintly have left with my father and accepted my curse. But that no longer matters does it? I've made yet another grieveous error and this one is even more uncorrectable than the last. Far more. So tell me, Dark King, what tortures will I be subjugated to here in your Under-world kingdom?"

Even Obi-wan had to crack a smile at that description of the Jedi Temple. By planetary law, the Jedi Council sat highest above all the other skyscrapers that covered the entire land surface of Coruscant.

"Whereas I am sure many of our students will agree that their daily regiment can be loosely defined as 'torture'," Mace Windu smiled, "I'm afraid we must disagree on your labelling our Temple as being 'underground'. Padawan Kenobi...? If you would?"

Crossing to a panel control, Obi-Wan flicked a control. Next to him, a section of the wall slowly moved aside to reveal a window to the outside.

"As you can plainly see," Mace continued, "we are hardly cave dwellers."

Nick gasped as he looked out into a landscape he had only seen the likes of in fantasy art works. Tall spires reaching out everywhere to touch the sky--- which was filled with an armada's worth of strange-looking aircraft zipping along through the air.

"This isn't real. It can't be. It's an illusion meant to trick me."

"To what purpose, ... de Brabant?"

"How in.... in Hell should I know?" Nick could not help smirking in dark humour at his own choice of phrase. "*Demons* like to torture lost souls. Maybe you want me to gain false hope so you can take pleasure in showing me the reality of my lostness."
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End Part 2