According to Obi-Wan's wrist chrono, nearly twenty minutes had elapsed before the door into the conference room opened.

But Obi-Wan realized almost before the new arrival entered the room that it was not their host. The Force was empty around it, and he had to rely on other senses to bring back information about it. He turned in his chair to confirm with his eyes what he already knew in his mind: that it was merely the droid from before, bearing a jug of some kind of juice and two shiny metal glasses.

"Is it in their nature to make us wait this long?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"No," his Master replied. "I sense an unusual amount of fear for something as trivial as this trade dispute."

Obi-Wan reached out and took one of the cups, searching it out of the corner of his eye for any odd discolorations or traces of powder in the liquid before finally bringing it to his lips. He doubted the Trade Federation would try something as foolish as attempting to poison Republic ambassadors, but there was no harm in being careful.

Qui-Gon accepted his own glass with a nod, staring thoughtfully over the rim and out at the planet below as he took a sip.

A silence heavy with apprehension fell over Master and apprentice as they awaited the Trade Federation's next move. As what was feeling more and more like the calm before the storm began to gnaw away at his consciousness again, for the umpteenth time in the past few minutes, Obi-Wan turned his focus back towards the planet below.

Dxun was close to it this time of year, he realized – almost close enough for their atmospheres to merge. The documents he had consulted before the start of the mission had filled his head with wild tales of genetically advanced humanoids riding fantastic creatures from the moon onto Onderon. However, as far as he knew, there was only one such account of something like that happening – and it had been done in a speeder.

In the eyes of all but those enthused by old stories, the other claims had lost most or all of their validity to misinterpretation and myth.

Obi-Wan wondered then why his thoughts had wandered to such a topic so unrelated to the situation at hand. The young boy that the years had yet to wash out of him told him it had to mean something, but he just didn't see how it was possible.

The two Jedi sensed the explosion rock the floor beneath their feet almost before it happened, and, in an environment as empty of the Force as this, the loss of life of the ten beings aboard the Radiant VII was catastrophic. Qui-Gon leapt to his feet, and Obi-Wan followed a moment later, his blue lightsaber glimmering alongside his Master's green one.

TC-14 started and dropped its platter, shuffling a few feet away and staring at them with its deceptively innocent look of surprise. But Obi-Wan hardly noticed. He was too focused on a vent near the floor, which had just started spewing a bitter-smelling pearly grey gas.

"Smoke!" Obi-Wan called, turning to his Master for guidance.

"Dioxis." Qui-Gon's expression was as calm as always, but the normally soft corners of his mouth and eyes now had an almost imperceptible hardness to them. He nodded to Obi-Wan, and together, the two of them took a deep breath in.

In any other circumstances, the dioxis gas would have made swift work of them. It was a poison prized by assassins for its distinguishing characteristic: it was as unstable as it was toxic. As soon as it had done away with its target by causing the capillaries in his or her lungs to swell up until they exploded – or sometimes even sooner – it would break down into simpler molecules and dissipate into the air, leaving no trace of its role in the crime.

It was almost impossible to detect even in favorable circumstances, and with the accessible air vents, it was as if the Trade Federation had thought of everything.

But if the Viceroy and his advisors knew that they were Jedi, then there were probably battle droids converging on the entrance to the conference room at that very moment, intent upon eliminating them if they showed any signs of life before the dioxis would have had time to do its work.

And despite the cowardice Qui-Gon claimed was their most prominent collective personality trait, Obi-Wan didn't think any organization brave enough to go so far as to blockade an entire planet would back out of an assassination without ensuring their work had been fulfilled.

With all this in mind, Obi-Wan doused his blade and used the Force to slow the beating of his heart and lessen the need for oxygen. Then, he settled down to wait for his Master's signal.

It was a few minutes of terse anticipation for what was to come before there was any sign of motion from outside.

Despite a heightened awareness of everything happening around him, Obi-Wan felt as if he was being enveloped in a cocoon of warm, benevolent energy that wished only to draw him away to a better place. He was aware he couldn't sink too far in for fear of losing grips on the physical realm, but for the time being, he was content to enjoy the moment and take pride in his connection to the Force.

He had become so in tune with the mystical energy field in order to suspend and sustain his bodily functions that even through the thick steel door, he felt rather than heard the Trade Viceroy say:

"They must be dead by now. Destroy what's left of them."

There was the orderly clatter of metal against metal as droids advanced towards the door, and Obi-Wan made careful note of exactly how many times he heard the soft whirr of a blaster's power pack being activated.

That was when he felt it – a careful touch of his Master's mind to his, telling him to get ready. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open, and he glanced towards the door. Qui-Gon shot him a look, and they both raised their lightsabers.

TC-14, unaware that anything was wrong, tottered towards the opening, murmuring a quiet, "Oh! Excuse me," as it passed through.

There was a moment of silence broken only by the hum of mechanical processors as the droids' limbs received commands from their main computers.

"Check it out, Corporal," the leading droid droned. "We'll cover you."

"Roger, roger."

As the droids began their advance, Obi-Wan's Master gave him a barely perceptible nod. Then, as one, the two Jedi ignited their lightsabers.

The droids began firing immediately, but their shots were clumsy – as of yet, their photoreceptors and sensors couldn't pierce the fog of dioxis gas with enough precision to track them, giving Master and apprentice the upper hand. Obi-Wan deflected the lasers easily, downing four of the droids before he had even left the conference room. Then, he surged forward alongside Qui-Gon to take them head-on.

The droids hadn't expected such a forward tactic, and it wasn't long before the vast majority of them were little more than piles of spare parts. The few still standing Obi-Wan pushed back with the Force, before taking off down the hallway towards the main bridge after his Master.

It was no short distance separating Obi-Wan and his Master from the bridge. But with the Force to guide them away from any false turns and renew the strength in their legs every time their running speed began to slow, it was not long before they had reached their goal.

The battle droids were only a minor nuisance – their efficiency in their design rested upon having the sheer numbers necessary to overwhelm enemy forces rather than sending out smaller forces with more precision. In patrol groups as small as these, they weren't much of a threat to two Jedi of Obi-Wan and his Master's caliber.

Come to think of it, why aren't there more of them here? Obi-Wan wondered. Trade Federation ships like these usually have enormous crews – battle droids included. Something strange is going on here... The hallways are too deserted. But why? There's no logic in diverting their troops like this.

Don't center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan. Keep your concentration here and now, where it belongs, came his Master's voice in an unbidden mental reminder to stay focused.

And stay focused he did. Obi-Wan put all his energy into moving faster than the droids' cheaply made cybernetics could process as he and his Master pushed forward through the few stragglers that were still organized enough to mount a defensive. His lightsaber slid back and forth in his hand as if it were the silver hilt and the crystal it contained, and not his wrist, that were controlling his attacks.

"I'll get the door," Qui-Gon told his apprentice between strokes with his own green blade. Although he had meant another thing entirely, his choice of words and casual tone made it sound almost as if he were talking about going to invite callers in for Jawa juice and Alderaanian pastries.

The image made Obi-Wan chuckle, but he returned to the present again a moment later. Nodding in understanding, he angled his blade to send a laser bolt ricocheting back at the droid that had fired it. Then, he readjusted his stance to accord another newcomer the same courtesy.

Qui-Gon, meanwhile, was cutting through the door onto the bridge, going slowly to make sure he avoided accidentally cutting any wires connected to the security override.

Obi-Wan was the defense and distraction, and Qui-Gon was the one finding a solution out of whatever mess they happened to have gotten themselves into. It was a familiar pattern for them, and they had gotten to a point where they both fell into it almost subconsciously.

Obi-Wan shot a concerned look in his Master's direction as the familiar rumble of blast doors closing cut through the air. But Qui-Gon was not deterred. He forced the lightsaber back through the series of barriers, using the superheated beam of plasma to bring the metal of the doors almost to a boiling point.

Suddenly, another noise reached their ears, one that Obi-Wan only knew from once or twice before. (Much to his dismay, a particularly disastrous mission to Toydaria came to mind almost immediately. Deciding it would be best to avoid thinking about it in case it had an effect on the present, he promptly shoved it to the back of his mind.) But even so, it was unmistakable, and he quickly brought his lightsaber to bear. "Master!" he called. "Destroyers!"

Qui-Gon was quick to react, reaching his side before the droids had completely unfurled themselves from their spherical travel formation. But as they settled into attack position and began to fire, Obi-Wan long realized his knowledge of droidekas was severely outdated. "They have shield generators!"

His Master gritted his teeth. "It's a standoff. Let's go!"

Obi-Wan thought about protesting, about insisting that they could still fight, but Qui-Gon was right: the Trade Federation had won this round. It was best to cut their losses before the Trade Viceroy took advantage of their lack of experience fighting shielded droids and sent another few squads out.

As one, the two Jedi ducked to one side, using the burst of light of the droids' blaster fire hitting the metal doors and wall as a distraction to cover their escape down the hallway.

Questioning Nute Gunray would have to wait until another time.

Nearly an hour had elapsed before Obi-Wan and his Master caught sight the final junction in their journey through the labyrinth of ventilation shafts that ran throughout the ship.

It was a welcome sight. Obi-Wan had had more than enough of crawling through the vents. His knees ached, his arms were cramped and the palms of his hands stung, and he had hit his head more times than he could count.

Here he was, a Jedi acting as an ambassador for the Republic to mediate a trade dispute that seemed to be a severe overreaction on the Trade Federation's part... crawling through the pipes. It was quite a humbling train of thought, but the sheer absurdity of the situation very nearly made him laugh out loud.

That, or it was nerves.

Qui-Gon, who was leading the way, suddenly stopped and turned to face him. "We're outside one of the main hangar bays now," he said. The Jedi Master's watery blue eyes were grim and his bushy eyebrows drawn close together. "With the communications terminals locked down, finding a ship with a long-range transmitter is now our best option. It is imperative we get a message out to the Republic – the Senate must know what has happened. Escape will come after."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon studied him for a moment as if searching for something he wasn't quite sure was there before turning around again. Then, carefully, he removed the vent cover, pulling it back beside him and motioning for Obi-Wan to follow him.

Obi-Wan couldn't sense anything in the hangar bay through the Force, but he could feel the air flowing around the shapes in white space of battle droids and other machines like them. While there were no organic beings in the hangar bay, there was a sense of agitation to the air that hadn't been present in the hangar bay the ill-fated Radiant VII had landed in when they had arrived.

There were a lot of droids here. And with a lot of droids came higher chances that their heat signatures or faces would be picked up on scanners and transmitted to the Trade Viceroy if they made a wrong move.

It was best they stay out of sight.

One after the other, the two Jedi dropped silently from the opening to the floor forty feet below. Making sure to stay in the shadow of a cluster of crates marked with the Trade Federation emblem in bold silver paint, they crept forward for a closer look.

"Battle droids." Qui-Gon sounded almost surprised.

It's an invasion army, Obi-Wan realized suddenly, and said as much. And an army it was: Obi-Wan counted two enormous C-9979 landing craft and a dozen multi-troop transports at least, with battle droids all gleaming and new waiting to fill them.

I guess this is why the droids were spread so thin on the rest of the ship – the bulk of their forces have been reassigned here.

There were four or five such hangars in a ship like this, and at least fifty ships in a blockade. Obi-Wan didn't even want to think about how many droids that meant could be sent down to the planet, but Qui-Gon kept a cooler head. "This is an odd play for the Trade Federation," he said. "Change of plan. We've got to warn the Onderonians, and contact Chancellor Valorum. Let's split up; stow aboard separate ships and meet down on the planet."

"You were right about one thing, Master," Obi-Wan retorted quietly, conjuring a sly grin fueled by confidence he didn't truly feel.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, and he forced the smile to widen. "The negotiations were short."

*HAAAAAAAAPPPPPPYYYY (extremely belated) BIRTHDAY TO YOU,

HAPPY (extremely belated) BIRTHDAY TO YOU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR jedi3ravenclaw

HAAAAAAAPPY (extremely belated) BIRTHDAY TO YOU

So sorry for the delay, guys... I guess this should be a lesson to me not to overestimate my power

or underestimate that of school.

*sighs* And I'm usually on top of birthday commissions if nothing else...

Anyways, IT IS OBSCENELY LATE FOR A SCHOOL NIGHT WHERE I AM SO I NEED TO GO TO BED NOW

THIS IS WHAT I DO FOR WRITING

I might add onto this later, but for now, I wish you all a good night XD