and now talks of democracy? That young fool, Prince Beju? No thank you, Jedi. I don't trust the elections, I don't trust the Queen, and I don't trust the candidates. I am happy where I am.' She patted the bandage in place, then rose. 'I'm finished.'
Qui-Gon turned to face her. 'Thank you. You feel no loyalty to Gala?'
She replaced the vials and bandages in her bag with quick motions. 'I feel loyalty to my own people. I can trust them.'
'What about your world?' Qui-Gon asked, easing back into his tunic. 'Gala is about to undergo a great change. A good change. Shouldn't the hill people be part of it?'
Elan picked up her bag. She turned to him impatiently. 'Is that why the Queen sent you? To ask for my support for her son?'
'No,' Qui-Gon said quietly. He watched her face carefully. 'She sent me to tell you that Prince Beju is not King Cana's true heir.'
'And why should she tell me this?' Elan demanded. 'And why should I care?'
'Because you are the heir,' Qui-Gon said. 'You are King Cana's daughter.'
Elan blinked. He saw the shock on her face, and saw how she was trying to control it.
'What lies are these?' she asked, taking a step backward. 'Why did you come here?'
'Lies or truth, perhaps only you can discover,' Qui-Gon said. 'I only say what has been told to me, and what I've come to believe. Queen Veda recently discovered that King Cana had a child before he married her. That child is you.
The Queen says she wants you to know your birthright.'
'This is a trick,' Elan said flatly. 'A trick to lure me back to the city. She wants to imprison me, scatter the hill people-'
'No,' Qui-Gon interrupted firmly. 'I believe she only wants you to know. That is all.'
Elan whirled around, her pale silver hair flying. She stalked toward the door.
'I won't listen to this.'
'What about your parents?' Qui-Gon asked, raising his voice to be heard above the howling wind. 'Your mother?'
Elan turned to face him again. 'It is none of your business, Jedi. But I'll tell you so that you will not try to confuse me with lies again. My mother lived in the hills all her life. She never went to Galu. My father was a great healer, renowned by all the hill people. You are wrong.'
'I am sure that those who raised you are worthy people,' Qui-Gon said. 'But Cana 's blood may be in you, Elan.'
She stared at him icily. 'Perhaps you actually believe the Queen's lies. But Qui-Gon, I tell you that there is a plan behind her words. It is up to you to find it out.'
'She is dying,' Qui-Gon said quietly. 'She is thinking of her legacy. It is a gift she gives to you.'
'I don't believe it, and I don't want it,' Elan answered firmly. 'This is my legacy.' She gestured to take in the dome and all that was outside it. 'These are my people. We are all outcasts. You've seen how Gala is ruled by powerful families. The hill people began a hundred years ago when those who were different — whose eyes were too dark, whose skin was too dark, who had no family — took refuge here. We made our own society, and freedom is our first rule. My parents gave me this heritage. I am proud of it. I don't want any crown.'
'You make a large decision in a very short time,' Qui-Gon observed.
Her dark eyes studied him. 'And what is this to you, Qui-Gon Jinn?' she asked softly. 'You have come a long way, almost lost your life, just to tell me this.
But Gala is not your world. Its people are not your people. I have ties to something. Do you? Why should I listen to talk of legacies from someone who has no ties?'
Qui-Gon fell silent. Elan was trying to wound him. Some of what she said merely echoed his own thoughts.
'My comlink was not working earlier,' Qui-Gon said. “Is there any way I can contact my apprentice in Galu?'
'We jam communications in the hills for our protection,' Elan answered. 'But we will let you contact him as soon as the storm lessens. Speak to Dana.'
She opened the door. The fierce wind blew back her hair and clothes and sent an icy draft toward Qui-Gon. Elan didn't flinch.
'Tell your apprentice that when the weather clears, you will be on your way,'
she added. Then she ducked out into the storm.
The door banged shut behind her. He had come a long way for nothing. His mission had failed.
Obi-Wan's comlink was activated when he woke the next day. Qui-Gon had contacted him at last. Afraid to use it in his room — he was still wary of surveillance — he took it to a corner of the gardens that was planted with wild tropical species. Under cover of the thick leaves of overhanging trees, he opened the communication line.
'Hello, Obi-Wan.' Qui-Gon's voice sounded strained.
Obi-Wan sensed something…'You're wounded, Master,' he said in concern.
'I'm healing now. I ran into some bandits,' Qui-Gon explained. 'But I found the hill people as well.'
