The glass of the skylight gave out so suddenly there was no warning. Shards of thick, coloured glass rained down on the occupants of the room, some of them cut by the shower. Among the glass was a person. She was tall, muscularly built (suggesting a high gravity background) and quite obvious, falling as she was.

Hitting the floor in a crouch, she shook her head, freeing some of the glass from her short, black hair. Her eyes, a mud brown, stared out from a plain face made up of hard planes. Not a pretty woman by any means, but certainly a striking one. She stood; glass slithered down her grey cape to hit the floor, ringing out in the now quiet room.

About her were a group of men in woman, in the dress of myriad worlds, and of many different races. They were crime lords, which was the reason that the woman was there. They had, until the breaking of the skylight, been talking about a plan to divide up several worlds, to their profit and the populations' detriment.

She flipped her cloak back, revealing a light sabre at her belt. "Put your weapons down, then on the floor, face down, your arms or similar appendages where I can see them," she said, her voice full of confidence.

The people in the room looked at her, and at each other, still recovering from the shock of what had happened. Then a Rodian, the tip of his ear cut off by a piece of falling glass, drew his blaster and began firing. The led to a number of others following suit.

The Jedi, for that is what she was, spun about, away from the centre of the room, drawing her light sabre in the same motion. The blade flashed about her, blaster bolts reflected away from her, most of them sent at the Rodian who had started firing, others taking out obvious bodyguards.

As they realised that they were not hitting, and that they had helped to reduce one of their fellows to rather messy stain, they stopped firing.

The Jedi stood in a clear area, her light sabre held in front of her. She was perfectly calm, not even breathing hard. She looked about again, and the said, "Weapons down, on the floor, appendages where I can see them. I won't ask again."

It was obvious that they were not certain what to do. That the Jedi could probably kill them all and walk away unhurt seemed fairly obvious. They were not quite convinced of it. Many were working out the odds of walking away from it.

At that moment, a Trandoshan, who stood behind the Jedi, decided to take advantage of the situation. He snapped a shot off with his blaster pistol, at the Jedi's exposed back.

She shifted the blade of her sabre behind her; intercepting the bolt and sending it back, right into the chest of the Trandoshan. He was sent flying back, dead before he even bounced on the ground. The light sabre was once more held in front of her, at the ready. It looked almost as if she had not moved at all.

A Twi'lek was the first to toss his weapon down and then move to lie on the floor, his hands where everyone could see them. A small human followed next, a Sullustran afterwards, and then the rest.

She looked about at them, then shut off her sabre and returned it to her belt. "You made the right choice," she told them as she reached for her com-link.

The space around Coruscant was busy, however it was always busy and few of those who had reason to visit the planet often would notice. The small scout ship made one orbit of the planet before receiving permission to land. It cut through the atmosphere sharply, dropping at dizzying speeds towards the planet.

It was a leaf shaped ship, bulging towards the rear where a set of powerful Himdo engines were. The armour plates were a dark shade of grey, though white stripe bisected it from nose to tail. Its name was 'Grey Dove' and it was the personal ship of Fiona Westt.

Fiona let it drop, a barely controlled plunge, until she was but a kilometre from the tops of the highest buildings below her. Then she brought up the repulsor lifts and rapidly slowed the ship. Had she not bee of heavy worlder stock such rapid deceleration might have knocked her unconscious.

Now, drifting downward at the speed a feather might fall, the Grey Dove descended amidst the buildings. The armour plate to the rear of the ship slid back and the engines folded out, the vanes of heat sinks blossoming, making the ship look like it had wings. From underneath the landing gear extended from housings and locked into place. Other armour plates slid back, opening up access to airlocks and the cockpit.

Below it was a floating landing field, on which were several other ships. The centre of the pad was clear, and that was exactly where the Grey Dove landed. After a moment the armour glass of the cockpit slid open, letting in the air of the planet.

Fiona released the restraining harness and then stood up and stepped out of the cockpit. She looked around, and then jumped down the two meters to the surface of the landing pad.

Close by stood a Wookie with dark fur that was nearly black. He growled at her, the sound starting low, and then ending with a high, almost bark.

"Thank you Nairoto," she told him. "It is good to be back. I'm glad to see you are looking so well."

The Wookie let out a pleased call, and then reached up, putting his huge hand against the ship. He growled again, the tone of it making it a question.

"I think the starboard engine needs to be looked at, and the torpedo launchers are damaged. Best to replace them all."

The Wookie made a displeased sound.

"I do try to take care of them Nairoto. It is not as if I ask to be shot at."

Nairoto stared speculatively at her, and then let out a dismissive snort.

"Be that way then. Oh, take a look at the nav-computer while you are there."

He barked, an affirmative, then began let out loud calls, calling forth his maintenance staff.

"Thank you Nairoto," she told him, then turned and started towards the walkway that connected the landing pad to the building beside it, the halls of the Jedi Academy and of the council chambers of the Jedi Order.

As soon as she entered the corridors she felt as if she were at home. The smell, the lighting, the feel of the flooring under her boots, it all was familiar to her. She knew that having such attachments was against the code, but she had grown up there. It was hard not to have some feeling for it. She had been gone more than a year, and yet it felt as if she had never left.

A piece of her was within the walls of the structure, and by being there she felt complete.

Shaking her head Fiona quickened her pace. It would not do to leave Master Windu waiting.

Elsewhere on Coruscant, deep within the middle levels of the mostly vertical city, in well-appointed rooms, a young girl, perhaps around seven or eight, was being dressed by a butler droid. The unit was a torso that floated upon repulsor lifts, its face mostly featureless. It hovered only a few centimetres above the ground so it could easily dress its charge.

The girl stood there, patiently, as the droid finished buttoning up the back of the dress she wore. She was quite beautiful, with long, auburn hair, and eyes, so blue they were nearly black, sharply contrasted with her pale skin. She looked a little like a porcelain doll, and effect that was added to by the still way she stood there.

"There you go mistress," the droid said good naturedly as it rose higher into the air.

Others might have thanked the droid, but she did not. She did not even seem to be aware of it as she walked across the room to small desk on which sat a computer and several datapads. She took a seat and turned the computer on.

"Dinner will be served in one hour mistress," the droid said as it floated by her.

Again, she seemed unaware of the droid, her attention firmly on the information that was scrolling across the computer screen.

For a time she sat there, shifting the datapads around, entering information into the computer, observing what happened. She held herself to almost complete stillness, her hands and arms only moving as much as they had to and no more. It almost seemed as if she were unnaturally stiff, of perhaps movement pained her.

"Barasia," a soft voice, almost like a hiss, called.

And the stillness was dispelled. With fast, smooth movement that caused the skirt of her dress to spin about her, she crossed the room to kneel in front of the dark, cloaked figure.

"Master," she said softly, her head bowed low.

"Barasia, it has come time for you to serve the purpose I have trained you for; time for you to leave your prison and blossom. Are you ready my tool?"

"Yes Master," she said in a voice that hovered near ecstasy. "I will do your bidding, I will serve you as you have trained me."

"That is good, for you serve no purpose other than this. Fail, and you shall die. If not by the hand of the Jedi, than by mine."

"I understand Master," she said, the fear obvious in her voice.

"Succeed, and you shall stand by me little one."

"Thank you. I will not fail."

"We shall see," Darth Sidious told her, and then was gone, leaving her alone in the room.

"Mistress, your dinner is ready," the butler droid said as it came in.

"Silence," Barasia hissed, swinging her hand out towards the droid.

The droid was flung back and hit the wall with enough force to break through, loosing its head in the process. It whined pitifully for a moment, and then went silent.

"I have no more need for you," she said as she got to her feet. She smiled. "No more need at all."

Mace Windu's office was small, not really a comfortable place, which was probably the effect that the Jedi Master wished. Fiona, kneeling in front of the low desk could think of other places she would rather be. In front of him, on the low desktop, were a number of datapads. Occasionally he would ask her for some clarification, then go back to reading.

Finally he put the last of the datapads aside and turned his full attention to her. Having Master Windu's full attention on her was not very pleasant.

"The ruling parliament feels that you did a good job," he said.

"Thank you Master Windu," she told him.

"Thank them. I feel that you used far too much violence."

It was a slightly stinging rebuke, and Fiona thought that she deserved it. She had also heard the stories of Mace Windu's exploits, and how he had not had to take a life in a long time. He would have found a way to close things up without killing anyone, she was certain.

"I'll strive for improvement Master Windu," she told him.

"Good." He suddenly smiled and stood. "It is good to have you back Master Westt."

"It is good to be back," she stood as well.

Mace held out his arm and Fiona reached out and grasped him about his forearm, he doing the same. Then they released the hold, each moving back slightly.

"There will be a meeting tomorrow," he told her. "I'll want you there."

"Of course." Fiona nodded. "What is it about?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

"I must be patient then."

"It will be a good lesson for you Master Westt. You may be taking a Padawan Learner when you leave."

Fiona smiled. "I'll look forward to that. It has been some time since I last had a chance to train one of the apprentices."

"I'm sure you'll do a good job," Mace told her as he led her from the office. "As you have in the past." They exited the office together. "I will see you tomorrow Master Westt."

"Yes you will Master Windu," she replied.

Ground level of Coruscant was not the lowest part of the planet. The buildings had sunk their roots deep beneath the surface of the planet, forming a labyrinth beneath the streets. Fiona knew that it existed, but had no desire to travel under the streets. The streets themselves offered all she wanted. That night what she wanted a small restaurant.

Orlais was small, dimly lit, and a little too warm; it also was one of the best places to get Corellian food. Fiona might not have come there for the food, but her companion for the evening was of a completely different opinion. Clara Bandou truly loved Corellian food, and came to Orlais so often that she had become a part owner in the business.

Fiona and Clara had met at the academy when they had been small children, both training to become Jedi. While Fiona had succeeded, Clara had not. She had instead gone into the medical corps, using her powers with the force to heal and save. It had actually been the best things that could happen to her as Clara made a wonderful Doctor, and would have made and average knight at best.

Still, Clara dreamed of the excitement and adventure of a Jedi's life, which is why she could have never been one, and lived vicariously through Fiona's tales.

"Well, at that point I knew I was in a little trouble, the Dove was just not going to take that sort of punishment for much longer."

"You need better shields," Clara offered.

"Of course I need better shields, but the main generator just won't allow me to power anything better."

"So you need a better generator."

Fiona smiled. "I'm working on it."

"So, what do you do?" Clara asked, then took a drink of her beer.

"Well, I dumped all the torpedoes from the bay, leaving them, armed, in my wake."

"Sort of like a mine field."

"Exactly. One of the fighters hit, and was unfortunately destroyed, and the other two were caught in the blast and were barely space worthy afterwards. At that point I offered to save them, if they gave up."

"Which they did of course."

"Wouldn't you?"

"I like to think that I would not have flown into a make-shift mine field."

"Well," Fiona stabbed her fork into one of the thick tubers on her plate, "you were always one of the better pilots." She popped the tuber into her mouth and began to chew.

"I was. The instructors always told me that I scored the highest during the tests."

Fiona swallowed. "In the simulators at least."

"Hey!" Clara said loudly. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Fiona smiled broadly. "I think you know exactly what I mean, armchair pilot."

Clara fumed, and then laughed. "I have flown real ships you know, and some pretty tricky flying at that, just not in combat," she finished off softly.

"I'm certain that you would be fine in such a situation."

"Or that I'd get killed."

"This is not the time for such dark talk," Fiona said, and then took a long pull from her glass of beer. "How about I tell you about my dealing with a corrupt sheriff on Glagus Prime?"

"You know I love your stories about corrupt and stupid officials."

Fiona laughed again. "Well, I met him on the space station when I was bringing those two pilots in…"

The two talked and drank and nibbled on various dishes until the restaurant closed and they had to leave. The sweet Corellian beer they had drunk did not affect them. Both of the women were quite capable of dealing with toxins much more deadly than alcohol. They drank because they liked the taste, and to fit in. There were times it was pleasant to enjoy the anonymity that a place like Orlais might offer.

They left, still chatting gaily about this and that, laughing at small jokes that were only funny to them in the light of shared memories.

Not to far from the restaurant Clara took a deep breath. "I think I had best get back home. I have an early shift at the hospital."

"I suppose that will be wise. Are you alright down here?"

"I'm fine," Clara smiled. "My speeder is parked just over there," she said, indicating a red, open top speeder parked a short distance away.

"Very nice," Fiona said.

"Just a little present for myself."

"Speed and bright red, a Jedi needs these things not," Fiona said is a bad imitation of Master Yoda.

Clara started laughing again. "If he heard you doing that…"

"He would tell me that a Jedi should not be so concerned with wit, but he is not here."

"It was good seeing you again."

"I should be around for a few days at least. Shall we meet tomorrow, if our schedules allow it?"

"Sounds good," Clara said as she started walking towards her speeder.

Fiona nodded and watched as Clara climbed into her speeder. A moment later the vehicle rose up on its repulsors and began to rapidly climb. Clara waved from the vehicle before speeding away, climbing out of sight.

Fiona turned and headed back the way she had came. She had parked some distance from the restaurant so she could wander the ground level for a while. There were always things to learn, if one watched carefully and did their best to learn what they could.

She was still some distance away from her speeder when she sensed something nearby: Something lonely and afraid. Stopping, she turned about, then walked towards a pile of garbage sitting next to a large receptacle, full of garbage as well. She stopped and then looked over the mess, starting down into the space between the garbage and the wall.

"Hello," Fiona said to the girl crouching there.

The girl started, looking up at Fiona, fear in her eyes, as well as unshed tears.

"Don't worry," Fiona told her. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm your friend."

"You're my friend," the girl said, and relaxed visibly.

Fiona reached in and offered her hand. "Let's get you out of there."

The girl grasped the offered hand and Fiona easily lifted her free of the small hiding place she had found, then set her down on the ground. She knelt down in front of the girl. "What's your name?"

"Barasia," she said in a small voice. "Barasia Yedon."

"Barasia, that's a pretty name," Fiona told her as she brushed the hair away from he girl's forehead, looking onto the almost black eyes as she did so. "Are you lost Barasia?"

The girl nodded. "Daddy came and took me from home. He said that mommy said I could go, but I wasn't sure. Then he went into a bar, and he gets bad when he goes into bars. I ran away, so I wouldn't be there when he came out," she said, the words tumbling out after one another in a near steady stream. The girl took a deep breath once she was finished.

"Well, that's sad," Fiona told her. "Do you know where you live?"

"Of course I do," the girl said, sounding a little offended. "I'm not a baby."

Fiona laughed. "Of course not."

"I live in the Diamond Falls sector, upper middle level, building Mist Tree East, apartment suite 2827," she recited.

"That's a little far from here." Fiona got to her feet and offered a hand to Barasia. "Let's get to my speeder and we can com your mother so she does not worry and I'll take you home."

"Thank you," Barasia said as she took the offered hand.

"You are most welcome," Fiona told her formerly, and then began to lead her to where her speeder was parked.

It became obvious that the night's adventures had been a little too much for the girl as her steps began to falter and she could have fallen twice had not Fiona been holding onto her hand. Fiona easily lifted the girl up, cradling Barasia in her arms as if she were a very small child. It was not that Barasia was a small girl, but Fiona was tall, and very strong.

Barasia was surprised at first, but then leaner her head against Fiona's shoulder, obviously content to be held.

Holding her like that, Fiona was aware of the padding about the girl's hips and bottom. It took her a moment to realise that she was wearing a diaper, a thin one, but it was there, and likely it had been used. She found that a little confusing. Most children at Barasia's age would have long since been out of diapers, and if they had a medical condition that kept them from controlling themselves, well, that could be easily fixed.

She was struck by the thought that perhaps Barasia was wearing them simply because she could. The wealthy, and from the address she had given as well as her clothing it was obvious that Barasia came from wealth, did odd things. Fiona supposed that keeping a child in diapers was something of an extravagance that the rich could afford.

When she had been Barasia's age she had been several years into her training as a Jedi. She had had teachers who had watched over her, but no one that had taken care of her. That made sense of course, a potential Jedi had to learn to be self-sufficient, even as they were learning that they were all one with the force.

It was not the first time that those thoughts, or similar ones had come into her head. At times when she had been teaching the young students she had taken joy in the simple fact that she was with the children, enjoying the feeling of being amongst the innocent once more. Sometimes she even envied the young ones, as unfitting envy was for a Jedi.

That was the feeling she had while she carried the girl. Envy of her, of a child so taken care of that she was still in diapers, so she imagined. What would it be like to live such a life? To have someone else take care of her?

She began to imagine the life, seeing in her mind the life of a very protected child, taken care of by all around her: It seemed, well, a pleasant life. A life she felt strongly drawn to at that moment.

Would she really like to live that life? A small voice seemed to echo in her mind. In a strange fugue state she thought that she would really like to live that life.

Did she want it enough to trade places with the girl she was holding? That was an odd question, and one that she was not certain of. Even if such a thing were more than just fantasy, she was not certain that she would want to change places.

What about a chance to see what it was like? Just a chance to live a fantasy for a time. Would she want to trade places then?

A fantasy, Fiona thought; just a little imagination. What was the harm in that? Yes, Fiona would like to change places with the girl, if only for a moment of 'let's pretend'.

It was at that moment she felt as if someone had punched her in her stomach, and then kicked her feet out from under her. She felt herself falling, loosing herself in a dark void. Then there was a sense of gravity, and she found herself hitting the ground with enough force that she almost blacked out.

For a moment she lay on the ground, feeling odd, feeling wrong, feeling lost. And then something moved into her field of vision. A huge figure, leaning over her, like some giant beast from a far off planet. Then, as her mind began to snap into place, she realised that she was looking up into her own, hard-planed face.

It was an odd feeling, staring up into her own face. Odder still that her face was twisted into a cruel and triumphant scowl that she could never picture herself making. It was a strange feeling, looking at one's own face and not recognising it.

"What happened?" she asked, partly of the giant over her and partly of herself. Her voice was high and pure in her ears.

Above her the thing that looked like her laughed. The deep voice giving the cruel laugh a rumbling that she thought she could feel in her bones.

Fiona tried to sit up, but the woman that looked like her pushed her back down, forcing her to lie on the damp ground.

"What are you doing?" Fiona demanded as she tried to fight against the large hand that was holding her down. The voice that she heard was familiar, and she suddenly placed it as being that of Barasia. She suddenly stopped struggling.

"So do you understand Jedi," the things that wore her form demanded.

"How?" Fiona asked breathlessly.

The woman, Barasia, grabbed the blouse about her neck and lifted her up, holding her dangling above the ground, at eye level. "You fell right into a trap prepared years ago," Barasia said, something in her voice suggesting disbelief. "I truly doubted that it would work, but that was foolish. My Master is wiser than all."

"Your master?" Fiona asked, even then trying to get information.

"It matters little to you little Jedi," Barasia said as she set off, her long stride slightly jarring, obviously she was not familiar with the new body she wore.

"You will tell me," Fiona said, grasping her own body about the wrist.

"Your mind tricks will not work on me," Barasia said, and then laughed. "They never could, but you were too blind to see it."

"What are you going to do to me?" she demanded, panic colouring her tone. That was wrong. She was loosing control of herself. There is no emotion, there is peace, she silently intoned. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. Knowledge was what she needed. She needed to know what was happening. There is no passion; there is serenity. She needed to be serene; she needed to learn what had become of her. There is no death; there is the Force. And that calmed her completely. She had nothing to fear.

It had taken her some time to reach that state of peace, and during it Barasia had been talking, and shaking the small body she carried. Fiona tuned it to what she was saying.

"...so sure of yourself, and so capable, and you threw it away. You are so stupid, and now you've been trapped in the worse prison there is." She gave Fiona another shake. "You want to know what I am going to do with you Jedi? I'm going to kill you."

Fiona let herself relax, her body going limp. She would wait and see what might happen, but she would not give into fear.

"Of course I'm not going to do it myself, as much as I might wish to. I hate that body you wear, and were you to get to live in it you'd come to hate it as well. I almost want to leave you alive, to suffer, but I can't take that chance."

Fiona thought to say something, but decided that the girl, now a woman, was raving. She was not something that could be reasoned with.

"I can't kill you. If I kill you, myself, at close range, I'll die as well. We are too closely linked right now. Still, I have come up with a particularly nasty end for you." With that Barasia came to a stop.

She stood at the edge of a large hole, leading into the darkness below. The area around it was marked with bright, orange tape, to warn people away from the danger.

Barasia held Fiona out over the darkness. "There are some interesting things below, waiting for you. You will not like it." With that she released Fiona, letting her drop.

Barasia stood on the edge of the hole, listening to the sound of the small body hitting things on the way down. Painful, but not fatal, and it would slow the fall down so she would not die when she hit bottom.

She waited until the sound ended, then turned around and quickly left the area, not willing to be close when the Jedi died. Darth Sidious had made it clear to her that such a thing would not be good.

She reached into the robes she wore and found the security code-rod for the Jedi's speeder. She smiled, enjoying her long strides and the feeling of power in her muscles. Now she had what she wanted, and she would enjoy it.

She bounced her way down, getting caught on conduits and cabling on her way down, being jerked to a stop for a moment before falling further. When she finally hit the ground it was something of a relief. At least that was over.

Normally a fall like that should not have been a problem. Even as a child she had taken such falls, but she was not used to the body she wore. It was all too different. She sat on her slightly padded bottom, more aware of the diaper she was in then before, and looked around herself. Where was she? Why had she been dropped here? It was obvious that the fall was not expected to kill her.

She got to her feet, slowly patting her body, looking for any wounds. Her hands lingered about her waist as she examined the diaper by feel. It was well used, she could tell that by the thickness of the absorption gel. She tore her hands away from it and continued down her legs. She was all right, for the most part. Her left ankle was sprained, and there were small cuts all over her body, but they would heal. All that was left to do was to get out of there.

That was when she heard the chittering from the shadows about her. She tensed up for a moment, then training came to the fore. She had no weapon on her, but there were things about that would do. She grabbed a piece of cable from the floor, swinging it about, getting a feel for it. A little too long, and not quite as heavy as she would have liked, but it would do.

Putting her back to the wall, she waited.

It was not long before she saw what she faced.

Craslins. City rats.

They were a small, biped, semi-intelligent beast, appearing part reptile, part mammal. Their scaly hide was covered in tufts of course fur, and they smelt quite bad. Mostly harmless, even in numbers, they could, however, be dangerous to the weak, or helpless.

Not seen very often on the surface of the planet, and killed when they were as pests, Fiona had fallen into a nest of them. They were carrion eaters, not designed for clean kills. She had no doubt that death among them would be a long and painful affair. She had not intention of finding out.

When the first one charged her she lashed out with the cable, catching it across the face, sending it spinning back, screaming in pain. That caused the rest to back off, for a time. She used that respite to closer examine her surroundings. She had to find a way out.

The next attack involved three of them charging at once. She caught one with the frayed end of her makeshift whip, the wires within cutting across its face. The second she kicked hard in the knee, hearing the crack of bone. The third got close enough to claw at her, but she twisted about, dropping her elbow onto the crown of its head with enough force to knock it out, and send painful jolts up and down her arm

She stood there, breathing heavily. The cable in her hands felt like it weighed a hundred kilos, sweat was running down her face. This body was not trained for fighting. It was time to go, while she could.

The whip snapped up, once, twice, a third time catching on something above her. She used it as a rope and quickly pulled herself up, above the heads of the Craslins. They now screamed and jumped, seeing their meal get away. She gave them no thought, just began to long, slow, tortuous climb out of the hole.

She had things to take care of. Someone had taken her place in a very effective way and she planned to discover why.

Barasia entered the halls of the Jedi academy, being careful to keep her true self hidden. She had been taught the skill by her Master over the long years she had been training for this mission. The Dark Side will cloak you, he had told her, it will hide the truth from the Jedi as you interact with them. Remember it at all times and do not let your guard down or they will know you for what you are and fall upon you.

With those words in her mind she made her way to Fiona Westt's room. She had studied as much as she could about Fiona Westt, and the people she knew. In that way she was able to flawlessly navigate the building and greet those she met. None of them looked twice at her.

She could hardly contain her glee. That she was fooling the Jedi was wonderful, but more and more she was appreciating the body she now wore. It was big, and tall, larger than most of those she met, and it was powerful. The muscles played under skin, each one toned and trained, and she could experience trained in reflexes that the body remembered.

Finally, she was grown up, and strong, not some little girl, being treated like a doll by droid servants.

When she reached the door to Fiona's quarters she places her hand on the palm reader. The door slid back, allowing her to enter. She stepped in, looking about at the room that was now hers. Weapons of all sorts hung on the walls, and the furniture was simple and sturdy. She pulled her cloak free from her shoulders and let it fall.

"Mistress Fiona," a strange droid called to her as it floated from another room. Its body was about the size of her head, and from that body two arms hung. It flew close to her. "I am glad that you have come back. I have already started organizing your correspondence, as you requested."

Barasia had not known that Fiona had had a droid and was a little shocked by it. She had been trained to think on her feet however and moved close to the droid, taking note of the serial number on its top. "Thank you E7," she told it.

"Of course Mistress. Is there anything else that you require?"

"No, that will not be necessary. You can shut yourself down and recharge now."

"Yes Mistress Fiona," the droid said, before going to do as it had been told.

Fiona moved up the desk and looked at the things arranged there. The droid had been very good at its task, she noted, which made her job all that much easier. She laughed softly as she picked up a datapad with a schedule on it. She would not even have to find out where she was supposed to be the next day. It was all laid out neatly for her.

Putting the datapad down she made her way to the bathroom. There she stripped down to her underwear before turning to look at herself in the mirror. Barasia was very pleased with what she saw. Fiona Westt was no beauty, but she was very obviously a woman. She undid the bra and took note the breasts, slightly sagging without support, but wonderful and full.

She took an inordinate interest in the panties she wore, running her hands over the filmy, thin material. It was almost as if she were wearing nothing, she thought with amazement. She lowered them next, taking note of the pubic hair between her legs. She ran her fingers through the slightly course, thick mat of curls.

The exploration threatened to go deeper, but she was not certain if masturbating in the hall of the Jedi academy was good idea. Perhaps her concentration would slip, and then she might get caught.

It was something she was going to have to put off for later.

Instead she took a long, wonderful bath, before going to sleep, nothing between her skin and the sheets but air.

It took Fiona a long time to get to the surface. She had ended up following tunnels, slowly heading up, until finally, a little before daybreak, she emerged onto the streets of the lower city, exhausted and filthy.

She sat down on a step of a nearby stairway, the diaper she wore something of a cushion, and considered her options.

Part of her wanted to simply go to the nearest com system and call for help. It was the sensible thing to do, but it would also give things away to Barasia, and, more importantly, to whomever she served, and Fiona was certain that Barasia served someone.

No, she would have to let Barasia continue to think that she had succeeded in killing her. She could not afford to contact anyone at that point. Normally going it alone would not be a problem, but normally she was an adult. Just getting out of the area was going to prove to be a challenge.

As it was, the solution to that problem was coming around the corner in the form of a pair of security officers.

"Hey," one of them said, walking over to her, "what are you doing here? Are you alright kid?"

Fiona looked up at the woman who had addressed her, blinking in surprise.

"Are you alright?" she asked again. She looked back at her partner. "You better call for medical backup."

"I'm alright," Fiona said, not wanting to have to deal with any hospitals. "I'm lost," she said.

The officer turned back to her. "What's your name sweetie?"

Fiona wanted to wince at the tone of voice the officer was addressing her with, but she did not. She was about to answer as to what her name was, but then decided she could not claim to be Fiona Westt. "I'm Draia, Draia Vern."

"Well Draia, what are you doing down here?"

"My friends came down here last night, and I got separated from them, and," time to make this a little more convincing Fiona thought, "I can't find them," she sobbed.

"You poor thing," the officer moved closer and held out a hand towards her. "You look like you've been through a lot."

Fiona took her hand, sniffing at the same time.

"Get the cruiser so we can take her home," she told her partner.

The man nodded and went off to do as he had been told. "Where do you live?" she asked Fiona.

"Green 3 Sector, middle level, Nova Building, unit 5326," she said, suddenly struck by the thought that this was all very much like how Barasia had caught her. It seemed all adults had something of a blind spot when it came to children.

The conference room was located in a tucked away corner of the Jedi Academy. Mace Windu had called several Jedi to meet with him, including the person they all though of as Fiona Westt.

The Jedi Master had waited until everyone was there and had then sealed the door. "We have been given a very valuable opportunity," he said without preamble. "A representative of the Trade Federation had approached us, offering us a contact within that organization and a chance to improve our relationship greatly. I'm certain that all of you can understand the importance of the situation."

Barasia could indeed. Chaos and strife was an environment that the Dark Side could thrive in. Her Master had worked hard to arrange things to those ends. If some coward from the Trade Federation was trying to work out a peace settlement, then that was a problem. She knew what she was going to have to do.

"We will be handling security for this. The representative will be meeting with Senators Magadal, Uptonia, and Calbania, as well as a number of other representatives of the peace factions."

Barasia almost choked with surprise: Those senators, and other people from the peace factions? With their deaths it was almost certain that peace would not have a chance. And for a respected member of the Jedi order to be behind the killings, that would certainly bring great harm to her Master's greatest adversaries.

She had been placed in a situation where she could serve Darth Sidious ends. She knew she would be certain to be rewarded, beyond the adult body she now had.

"The meeting will take place in five days," Mace continued. "The conference centre in the Obderdon Hotel will be used for the meeting. The Hotel's security is excellent. I will want you to make it even better, as well as acting as bodyguards for the VIPs when they arrive." He turned to look at all of them, meeting their gazes, one at a time. "I know that you will do what is required of you."

Fiona had to fight to meet his gaze and not falter in it. She was worried that he might realise what she was, but his gaze moved onto the next Jedi. She swallowed and thought, I will do what is required of me Master Windu, you can trust that.

The Nova building was a solid, old building, and it housed solid people. Middle class accommodations, comfortable, but nothing special. Unit 5326 was a safe house, set up by Fiona years ago. Her old master, Betran Non, had advised her to set up such places, just in case. The one in the Nova Building, like the others, had been purchased through front companies, and droids, their memories wiped afterwards, had handled the rest of it.

It all seemed a little paranoid, and unseemly for a Jedi, but Fiona was aware that Betran had been right. The future could be cloudy, and it helped to have boltholes.

She opened the door to the unit, stepping into a place she had never been before, but knowing every square centimetre of it.

"Where are your parents sweetie," the female officer asked.

"They've gone to work," Fiona said, just wanting the officer and her partner to leave.

"I think we better call them," the male officer said.

Fiona took a deep breath, calming herself, and then she looked at the two officers. "I'm sure there is no reason to call them," she said, reaching out with the force.

"I suppose we don't need to call them," he said.

"You can probably go now," she said.

"Let's go."

"I'm not sure," the woman said, then shook her head. "Yeah, you're right." She looked at Fiona. "Take care sweetie."

"I'll be alright."

"You'll be alright."

Both officers left.

Sighing, Fiona took a seat in a nearby chair. It looked like she was still able to call on the force. It was not too surprising. Barasia would have had to use the force to do what she had. Fiona suspected, with some practice, and time to get used to the body she wore, she could be as powerful as she had been. That was going to be important if she were to get her old body back. And stop whatever plans that Barasia, and whoever was controlling her, had come up with.

She got up from the chair and made her way to the bathroom and stripped off the ripped and dirty clothing she wore, stripping down to the diaper. Looking at herself in the mirror, Fiona was once again struck by how pretty the girl who had taken her body was. Delicate, and perfect, and appearing to be weak, and not at all like the woman she had been.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Fiona told herself as she took the diaper off. It was a bit of a mess, stained yellow and brown, the tiny machines within the padding probably near the end of their useful function. She balled the diaper up and tossed it into the wastebasket.

After taking a shower and cleaning her body off she took the time to use the room com to order some clothing, paying for it with an account that had been set up in secret, through the same front company that had purchased the apartment. That done she climbed into the large bed, feeling lost in the sheets for a moment, then went to sleep. It had been an exhausting night.

Hours later Fiona woke, still feeling exhausted, but not so tired she could go back to sleep. She yawned, her mouth opening wide, shifted about, and felt, wrong. She lifted her sheets and did not need to see the yellow stain on the mattress for the smell of urine was very strong.

She had wet her bed.

Fiona did not know what to feel. She could not remember when she had last wet the bed; in fact she was pretty certain she never had as far as her memory went back. She certainly had not wet it since the time that children were expected not to. In fact, she never had known anyone to do so. She just could not see a child with such a problem being allowed to train as a Jedi, as if that would suggest some sort of lack of control.

Being a Jedi was all about control.

And that was when she felt ashamed, not for the accident, but for the lack of control that is indicated. Even as a small child she had not suffered from such a thing. What did it say about her that she now did? Was she no more than an infant, completely unable to exercise any control. She could feel her heats grow hot with that thought.

She finally shook her head. There was no value in wallowing in self-pity. She got out of the bed, feeling the urine on her legs chill in the room's air, making her shiver. She ran to the bathroom to clean up, scrubbing hard to make certain that the smell would not cling to her.

That finished, she wrapped a towel around her and so outfitted, went to the front door where she found a package waiting for her.

Inside were the clothes she had ordered, a few pairs of pants, some blouses, underpants, socks and a pair of sturdy shoes. She dressed quickly, putting on the simple, well-made clothing. She then returned to the washroom and brushed out her hair before putting it into a single braid, tied off with a bit of ribbon that had come with the clothing.

She stared at herself in the mirror, once more presented with the image of a very cute girl that she still could not quite accept as being hers. She felt weak and small and after a moment tore her eyes away from the reflection.

She ate a quick meal and then went to the washroom, feeling a certain sense of ease as she did so. It seemed she could still control herself. Obviously it was just a sleep problem, and she could deal with that in short order.

An hour after she had awoken, in the early afternoon, she left the apartment and headed out.

She took one of the elevators up to the higher levels, leaving the Nova Building and entering the Halcyon Building, moving upwards in the social strata as she moved up. The elevator doors opened on a wide vista of an interior plaza, lined with colourful stalls, selling a little bit of everything.

Fiona travelled through the people, having to weave in and out of a forest of legs, being careful not to bump into anyone, or more to the point to ensure no one bumped into her. She seemed to be invisible to the people around her, all of them too busy with their own concerns to notice a small girl.

Finally she made her way out of the plaza and into a glassed walkway that would lead her to the next building where a taxi stand was. From there she could make her way to the Jedi Academy.

She was halfway along its length when she felt a slight pressure that made her aware that she needed to go to the bathroom. She turned back the way she had come, having spotted some restrooms back near the entrance to the plaza. She had not gotten more than twenty steps down the corridor when suddenly the need to urinate became demanding and she had to stop in order to hold it in. She found herself shifting from foot to foot, fighting to keep her hands from pressing over her crotch in what would be a futile attempt to stop what was going to happen.

And it did happen.

She felt a slight, tickling feeling as urine began to flow uncontrollably from her bladder into her panties. The panties were no barrier and a dark patch appeared between her legs and spread along her bottom and down the inside of her legs. She just stood there, unable to keep it from happening.

Where before she had felt invisible, she now felt as if the whole world was watching her, certainly the people around her were. She heard someone comment that children who could not control themselves should not be allowed out unattended. Some aliens, she could not identify them, spoke in their hissing language and Fiona knew she was the topic of their conversation.

She could feel anger well up in her at it. How dare they laugh at her, mock her? She wanted to show them, but quickly crushed that anger. She would not give into it.

"Young lady, just what do you think you are doing," a woman demanded of her.

Fiona looked up at her, noting that in her old body the woman would have seemed small, but in Barasia's body she loomed over her. "It was an accident," Fiona said in a small voice, feeling completely helpless.

"An accident? I find that hard to believe, a child your age having an accident. Such behaviour would be more in line with a toddler."

"You tell her," a young man, who in other situations Fiona might have found handsome, called.

"Be silent," the woman said, then turned her attention back to Fiona. "Where are your parents? I think they would like to know about this."

This was the last thing that Fiona needed. "You don't need to see my parents," she said.

"I think I most certainly do. A child like you obviously needs to be watched carefully and if your parents are not around someone else will have to take care of it."

She almost panicked when the woman did not do as she wanted. Was the woman's mind too strong? Or perhaps Fiona had somehow lost the ability to use the force. She forced herself to be calm and looked up at the woman. "You really don't need to see my parents, I'll let them know what happened," she said softly.

The woman frowned slightly. "I suppose that since you will let your parents know what happened I really don't have to."

"I'll be fine, just let me go."

"I suppose you'll be fine. Now run a long home."

"Yes ma'am," Fiona said, and then scampered off like a scolded child, which was exactly how she felt.

In the market she bought a large piece of cloth that she wrapped around herself to hide the wet patch on her pants, and then returned to the Nova Building and her unit. As she was heading back she felt like hiding under her bed when she got back to her apartment. She did not want to chance anyone who had seen her on that walkway would see her again. She did not think she could live with the embarrassment.

She was just beginning to exert some control on her frayed emotions when she felt some pressure building up in her bowels.

"No, Fiona whined softly as she clenched up her muscles, trying to stop it.

The elevator doors opened and she bolted from the car, running down the hall. She had to get to her apartment, to use the bathroom. She would not let it happen. She was a Jedi. She was an adult. She was not going to….

The mess emptied from her bottom, into her panties, forming a bulge about her bottom. She almost fell when it happened, the mess shifting about in the confined area, flowing about her, making her want to be sick.

She stood there, soiling her already wet panties, feeling lost. What sort of Jedi messed themselves like that? What kind of adult? She felt, for the first time, like a small child. She almost started sobbing, and dearly wished there was someone to help her.

There was not, however, and she was going to have to take care of herself.

She continued to her apartment, moving so as the keep the mess in her pants from moving about too much. A small amount of luck was with her, and she did not pass anyone on the way. She smelt bad, and did not think she could bear anyone knowing that she had committed the ultimate act of childishness.

Once safely in her apartment she waddled to the bathroom where she slid her loose, and wet, pants down, followed by her very soiled panties and the disgusting mess within. Were it not for her training she might have broken down right there and been sick, and started to cry.

The ruined clothing went into the waste chute and then she took a long shower, cleaning herself. She spent a long time under the shower, as if water and soap could somehow remove the shame and self-disgust. She was supposed to be an adult, whether her body was that of a child or not. She should have been able to control herself, no matter what physical defect the body might have carried with it.

Finally, her skin red from the scrubbing, she left the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her. She walked to the com and called up a catalogue. For a time she did nothing, just looked at the products displayed. "I don't need these things," she said after a moment. "It was just…" she stopped. A slight pressure sent her running to the bathroom. She barely got on the toilet before her bladder released.

When she got up she walked back to the com and place and order for the diapers. Like it or not, she was going to have to use them, that or put up with wetting and messing herself and having everyone know about it.

Fiona arrived at the building that housed the Academy and the council chambers two hours later than she had planned, thanks to the accident. Now, wrapped in the security of a diaper, she exited the air taxi on one the public levels, slinging a small back over her shoulder.

The bag contained a few things she thought she might need, including a couple of extra diapers. She had managed to avoid using the protective garment to that point, and was keeping her eyes on where the bathrooms were, just in case, but suspected that it was only a matter of time.

She started walking towards the entrance to a small museum the council maintained on site, one of the public areas. She looked around, made certain that no one was watching, and instead slid through one of the side doors, entering an area where the public would not be allowed.

Form that point on, moving with the stealth of years of training, as well as the aid of the Force, she crept unseen through the halls, making her way to the room she had there. Had she been in her body the task might have been beyond her, but at that moment she was smaller, and moving unseen was a little easier.

Finally she reached the door to her small apartments. She waited outside, listening, but heard nothing from within. She was considering whether to enter or to wait when she heard voices coming from down the hall. Whoever was speaking was getting closer.

She opened the door and darted into the room, feeling odd in having to hide in a place she considered home. It was all so wrong.

"Oh my, who are you?" she heard the familiar voice of E7.

She turned quickly and said, "Shutdown protocol randa seven point two domu six."

E7's body suddenly went lip, still hanging in the air, but not moving. It never hurt to take precautions; she could hear the voice of her old master in her head.

Without anyone or anything to disturb her Fiona went to work, looking through things, trying to get an idea about what might be happening. It had been well over twelve hours since she had met Barasia, perhaps five or six hours from the time that she would have had to meet Mace Windu-a meeting she was certain that Barasia had intended.

She found what she was looking for, neatly laid out on her writing desk. Good old E7, she thought as she looked though the information, he could always be trusted to micromanage everything and keep a detailed schedule. What was happening at the Obderdon Hotel in five days, she wondered. It was probably something important, and something they needed a great deal of security for. The Obderdon was well known for its security.

She looked around some more, taking note of a few other things that had been neatly recorded by her droid-she was going to have to deal with that when she got everything sorted out; the droid's actions had all the makings of the large security leak, and had already been so-and then put everything back the way she had found it.

Moving to the wall near the bed, she knelt down and tapped at a section of the wainscoting. It came free, revealing a small space beyond. She reached in and removed the case within. After putting it into her bag, she put the wainscoting back into place, making sure nothing would show that she had been there.

Before leaving she made sure that E7's memory was properly cleaned of the last few minutes, and the reactivated the droid just as she was leaving. He would have no idea what had gone on.

She traced her steps back towards the exit; her next stop was going to be the hotel.

Barasia looked around the large conference room, apparently checking the various pieces of security equipment, making sure they were working. In truth she was looking for hiding places. She had decided what she was going to do. It would be quite effective, and very obvious.

She stopped suddenly, feeling ill at ease. Something was bothering her, but she could not put her finger on it. It was almost as if she had forgotten something Important.

After a few seconds Barasia shook her head. She was just getting paranoid. There was nothing to worry about. Turning around, she looked out at the huge, armour-glass windows, staring out at the city about the hotel. Again, the sense that something was wrong as on her, it was like an itch she would dearly love to scratch. It was something close. It was something….

"Fiona, are you listening?" Nonda Chon asked her, shaking the train of though loose from Barasia's brain.

"What? I'm sorry Master Chon, my mind was wandering."

The Cerean smiled slightly. "And where was it wandering?"

"No where that had anything to do with our job." She removed a datapad from her robes. "I have made a few notes about some problems we may have with security," she told him, her previous unease forgotten in the moment.

Staring at yourself was an odd feeling, Fiona thought, staring at her body as it stood near the glass of the main conference room of the hotel. She used her finger to zoom in, the image in her macro-binoculars zooming in on Barasia.

She noted, with some interest, that Barasia seemed to have imitating her down fairly well. She recognised certain movements that the woman made, movements and affectations that she knew were hers. Had Barasia studied her that well, or was the body remembering for a mind that did not know?

The interesting train of thought was broken when she realised that Barasia had turned and was staring directly at her. Of course there was no way that she could be seen, being well over two kilometres from the hotel.

She still had the uncomfortable feeling that Barasia was aware she was there, and that worried her. At that moment she felt the slight tingling that told her that her bladder was about to empty. There was a bathroom nearby, she could get to it in time, but she was not willing to move, as if only her stillness was protecting her.

She held it for the short time she could, then she felt the urine begin to flow out of her, soaking the thing padding before it was moved into the gel, and with that the diaper would be getting thicker, more obvious.

It was a pointless thing to think about, but her mind seemed stuck on the fact she was wetting herself and what was happening with the diaper.

And then Barasia turned away, someone else getting her attention, and Fiona moved away, quickly making her way to the bathroom to hide out and change her diaper.

As she stood in the stall, removing the used diaper, she wondered if Barasia was truly aware of her, or if she had just been imagining things. She was going to have to be more careful, just in case. It would not do to be caught, not now.

She was going to have to stay close to the area, but would have to be out of sight, and somewhere that no one would pay any undue attention to a child.

She put a new diaper on, letting it fit itself snugly around her, and picked up a datapad, calling up a list of businesses in the area. After only a few seconds she nodded, frowning slightly.

Placing the datapad aside, she bent down and pulled her pants up, over her diaper, then gathered up the things in the stall and exited at a quick walk. She would set up her some surveillance equipment so she could keep and eye on what Barasia was up to, and then head back to her apartment. Tomorrow things would start.

Barasia stared at the wet bed, not believing it. How could this have happened, she felt her face grow hot with the shame of it. She was no long trapped in that flawed, child's body. She was in an adult body, and yet she had wet her bed.

What was wrong with her? Did she want to wet the bed? Did she desire to return to the trap of childhood?

The room seemed to grow large around her, as if she were shrinking. Her heart was thumping in her chest and she was suddenly very afraid.

Barasia woke suddenly, breathing heavily. She yanked the covers from her bed, taking note that the sheets were dry beneath her. Just a dream, she thought, leaning back into the cushions.

"Is there anything the matter Mistress?" E7 asked politely.

"I'm fine," she told the droid. "Go back into power consumption mode."

She stared at the ceiling for several minutes, thinking about the dream. She did not think it meant anything; it was just a symptom. Something was bothering her, a feeling that something was not right. She had felt it that day at the hotel, but had put it off to nerves. She was going to have to be more watchful.

Something was just not right.

Morning came, as it always did. Fiona was up before the sun, years of training still affecting her even if she was in a different body.

She removed the wet diaper, tossing it away, before cleaning up. Then it was into a fresh diaper, clean clothes, and she set off at a quick pace. She had a lot of things to do that day, and needed to set up her observation post.

The Hotel Obderdon had everything its guests could want, from restaurants to gyms, from expensive boutiques to a day care centre. It was that day care centre that Fiona made her way to. As she saw it, what better place to hide out other than someplace where parents and guardians left their children? It made perfect sense to her.

She had reserved a room at the hotel the day before, and then had called the day care centre to arrange for the drop off of a child, herself. Quite simple.

Not long after the centre had opened for the day she presented herself at the front desk and the woman who sat behind it.

"My name is Draia Vern. I'm supposed to be here," she said, mixing the right amount of disgust in her tone that a child who thought she was too old for such things might use.

The woman looked down at her. "Hello Draia," she said. "My name is Miss Imal. I'm sure you'll enjoy your days here. It will be quite fun," she told her with the sound of a prepared speech.

"Thank you," Fiona said, making it sound as if manners had been forced onto her.

Miss Imal pressed a small button on her desk and a few seconds later the door behind her opened and a nanny droid rolled out. Its upper torso looked human, covered with a soft padding. Its lower body was a cone, making it look as if it was wearing a voluminous skirt.

"NAN23, please take Draia to meet the other children."

"Of course Mistress Imal." The droid turned to face Fiona. "Please come with me Young Miss." It held out it hand.

Fiona took it, noting that the covering almost felt like flesh, but not too much so-which would have been creepy. The droid led her back through the door she had come through, and into a corridor beyond.

Fiona had not bothered to mention the fact she was wearing diapers when she arranged for day care. She had a few extra in her bag and figured that no one would know or would have to know. Miss Imal certainly had not known. NAN23 was a nanny droid, and it knew when someone was wearing a diaper. There were also rules for charges that wore diapers, which could be overridden in odd cases, which Fiona qualified as, had Miss Imal known about it, which she did not.

The droid opened a door not far down the corridor and led Fiona into a room full of bright colours, with rich and detailed murals on the wall, full of many toys, in which there were four other nanny droids and three very young children.

One of the droids moved towards NAN23 and Fiona.

"This is Draia," NAN23 told the other droid.

"Hello Draia," the other droid said as it reached out to take her free hand. "I am NAN15."

"Hello," Fiona said politely, not at all certain about the room she was in.

"I will leave Draia in your care," NAN23 said, then released Fiona's hand and quickly left the room.

"Come this way Draia, you can meet the other children," NAN15 told her as she led her to where the three children were playing under the supervision of another of the nanny droids.

She was introduced to the three, and then sat down with them to play with a wide variety of stuffed animals, dolls and assorted other things that a very young child might be interested in.

The three other children looked at her oddly for a few seconds, they seemed willing to accept her, though all were much younger than Fiona's current body. One of the girls, she could not have been much older than two, handed Fiona a doll, obviously trying to make friends.

Fiona was not at all sure what to make of it, but decided to just go along with it and keep a low profile.

So, she played with the children, becoming involved in a game of building a city with a mixture of magnetic and grav blocks, and then making their dolls and other toys move through them. While Fiona was not too interested in the game of dolls, she did enjoy building things.

She was loosing herself in the game a little when she felt a familiar tingle. She got up quickly, almost knocking over the blocks, and turned to NAN29, who was watching them, and said, "I have to go to the bathroom."

"Of course Draia," the droid said in a friendly tone as it took her hand and led her towards the wall on their left. A door, cleverly hidden in the mural, opened and Fiona was led into a large bathroom.

There was a bath, four sinks, a changing table, shelves full of diapers and other things, and most thankfully a toilet. She was directed to the toilet, and before she could do anything, the droid had her pants down around her knees, the slightly damp diaper off, and her sitting on the toilet, releasing the contents of her bladder.

"Very good Draia," NAN29 said in a sweet tone. "Your parents will be so proud of you," she praised.

Fiona felt quite low at that moment. She was being praised by a nanny droid for not wetting her diaper, like she was a baby or something.

She noticed that the droid was balling up the diaper and throwing it away. It then took a new diaper down from the shelf. It put hat aside and turned it attention to cleaning up Fiona, before Fiona could do it herself. It then put a new diaper on her, putting it snugly around her. It was just like the one she had worn in, except it was a soft pink, and had a flower picture on it.

The nanny droid did not pull her pants up, but took them all the way off, leaving a surprised Fiona in just her blouse and a diaper.

Praising her some more, the droid then led her from the bathroom, back to her game with the children.

As she took her seat again she noticed that the children not just wearing a diaper had on some garment that made diaper changes easier. It looked like she might have to wear a skirt if she were to avoid having her diaper on display.

Several more children showed up, all of them still in diapers. Some looked a little surprised to see a child Fiona's age in the nursery, and one little boy made fun of her. That made Fiona think she had hit a low point, being mocked by a toddler for being in diapers. Fortunately one of the nanny droids put the child in a playpen for a time out and Fiona felt better. Then she felt worse when she realised that she had just taken some pleasure in the fact a child was being punished for making fun of her.

The day seemed planed out from start to finish. A few hours after she arrived there was a snack for the children. Some cookies served with juice in toddler cups, and baby bottles for a few children that needed them. NAN29 asked Fiona which she wanted and, with her face red, she told her the cup.

After the snack all the children had their diapers changed, whether they needed it or not, and most did.

More games followed, most educational, before the children were taken out into a small garden that the nursery led out into. Fiona was given back her pants for the outside adventure, for which she was truly grateful. The garden was visible from a restaurant on the second floor, and from some of the other rooms in the day care. With her pants on she could at least hide some of her shame.

That outing thoroughly tested her ability to control her emotions.

They were all brought back in for lunch and then put down for their naps. Fiona was not really tired, but decided to sleep anyway. At least it was better than staying awake in the nursery.

She dreamed that she was lost in a garden, the maze of hedges keeping her from seeing where she was. She knew she was looking for something, but could not remember what. She knew that is she could remember what she was looking for then she would have the first clue to solving the maze. Her mind refused to work, however, and her thoughts flowed from her hands like water.

Fiona woke to one of the nanny droid moving her gently onto the flat surface of that changing pad. The pad extended to fit her body and the repulsors within lifted the pad up to a convenient work height for the droid.

"What…" Fiona said.

"Hush," the droid's voice was low as it put a finger on her lips. "You do not want to wake up the other children."

Because Fiona did not want to wake up the other children, she was silent and let the droid work. Not for the first time since the had met Barasia she felt her face grow hot as the droid removed her pants, leaving her lying on the pad, her diaper exposed. Then the droid removed the diaper and from the slight smell she was aware that she had soiled it.

She knew she should not have been surprised, but somehow she was. Wetting in her sleep had bee one thing, something she could almost deal with, but messing? That was a far greater thing. That she could have lain there, asleep, and soiled herself so made her feel even more helpless.

Her legs were lifted and the dirty diaper removed. The droid gently cleaned the mess, spraying a warm, foaming solution on her bottom, letting it sit there for a few seconds, and then wiping everything away, leaving her skin clean and protected with a minimum amount of work. It then slid a new diaper under her and lowered her onto it.

A few seconds later she was back on her sleeping mat, the droid pulling the blanket over her and telling her to sleep. It then moved off, silently.

Fiona rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the blanket over her head, not planning on sleeping. She desperately wanted to do something that would take her mind off what had happened and what it meant. Fortunately she had a solution.

She shifted her watch in front of her face and used it to review the surveillance logs up to that point, tracking where Barasia was and what she might be up to.

Released from the day care about mid afternoon, Fiona left the hotel, making her way to another of the buildings, sneaking into a small utility room. There she met up with W37, a surveillance droid, basically a simple pod with a repulsor lift, a chameleon field, and a powerful suite of sensors.

"What did you find out?" she asked it.

It made a series of beeps, and then began to project a series of holograms, showing her more of the actions of Barasia and the Jedi.

"What is that?" Fiona asked, pointing at a small device that Barasia was holding as the woman slid into a maintenance closet.

The image stopped and then zoomed into, showing a thin object, with a small screen on it. The droid beeped a few times.

"Could be anything," Fiona said, shifting about, hoping for a better look. "Can you get in there tonight?"

More beeps.

"Okay, give it a try. Let me know what you find out tomorrow."

The droid beeped once, then floated up and out through a ventilation shaft. Fiona left as well, heading back to her apartment.

The next day passed much like the first, except that she had worn a skirt, so she did not have to surrender it during diaper changes. It was a tiny bit of armour against embarrassment, but it was all she had and she was grateful for it.

Sometime after naptime, and the afternoon diaper change, Fiona was checking her watch, taking a look at the information presented there, getting a fairly good idea of what Barasia was up to. One of the other children approached her, a two-year-old girl whose name was Ruki.

"Dwaia, do you wanna pay?" she asked.

Fiona, who was a little occupied, did not look at the child, but said, "Please go away, I'm busy."

She did not say it loudly, or cruelly, but she did say it with a sort of finality that was not often heard from young children. It came off as a rather harsh rejection and it was enough to set Ruki crying. Fiona, realising she had not handled that well tried to calm the crying child, but before she could even try NAN29 was there.

"Now what is going on here?" it asked in what passed for a slightly cross tone.

"Dwaia was mean to me," Ruki said, still crying.

"Well Draia, if you are going to be mean to the other children perhaps you need a time out."

Fiona tired to explain herself, but could not find the right words. The nanny droid picked her up and carried her to a playpen in a secluded corner of the room.

"You'll stay right there," NAN29 told her. "Perhaps a little time alone will teach you not to be mean to the others." And that said it scooted off, returning to its job, leaving Fiona sitting dumbfounded in a playpen.

She stared at the simple mesh walls surrounding her, and was amazed that only that and the fact that an authority figure had told her to stay was keeping her there. As a Jedi she had broken out of and broken into some of the most secure sites in the galaxy. And now look at her, trapped in a playpen like some infant!

She tried to tell herself that was not really trapped, that she could, if she chose, leave, but she had to maintain her cover for the moment and maintain a low profile. But she was trapped. Trapped in the body of a child. Trapped in a diaper. Trapped in the perceptions that others had of her. It made her feel small and useless, and just like the sort of child who would be trapped in a playpen.

When she felt a tingle that told her that she needed to go to the bathroom she did not even try to attract one of the nanny droid's attention so she could be taken to the toilet. She just wet herself. Fiona lay down on the soft floor of the playpen and stared up at the ceiling, feeling herself fall further and further away from who she was, getting lost in the sensations around her.

She might have spiralled away, became smothered by despair until all that was left was a small child, but Fiona was a Jedi, and that meant something.

Instead of falling forever into childhood, she halted the regression of her thinking, found a solid centre to stand upon, the Force. Years and years of lessons came to the fore, allowing her to climb out of the void that had threatened to destroy her. Finally she sat up, feeling more like herself. She felt confident and strong once more.

That feeling was lessened by the realisation that she had soiled her diaper while in the fugue state, but even such an infantile act could not send her back.

She looked around, hoping to attract one of the nanny droids' attention so that she might be changed. She realised that the nursery was empty of children, and only NAN29 remained. She was about to call to her when the door opened and Miss Imal came in.

"All the children gone?" she asked the droid.

"All except Draia Mistress Imal," the droid told her. "I wish to inform her parents about her bad behaviour."

Miss Imal turned her curious gaze to the far corner where Fiona sat in the playpen, looking like she wanted to disappear. She walked over to look down at her. "What are you doing in there?" she asked.

"I made Ruki cry?" Fiona offered in a lame tone.

"But… Do you wear diapers?"

Fiona nodded.

"Well for…" she said in an exasperated manner. "Why am I not informed of this? NAN29, Draia is to be treated like any child of her age group and not as a diaper wearer."

"I see. I am sorry mistress. It will not happen again."

"Good." She turned back to Fiona. "Why didn't you tell anyone? What were you thinking? Do you want to be treated like this?"

The questions came fast, and Fiona could not answer then with anything except a "But…. But… But…"

"Well, it does not matter if you want to be treated like a baby, I can't allow you to mix with young children. You'll just have to grow up a little. NAN29, help her get cleaned up if she needs it and then send her home." Miss Imal walked from the room, calling the last from beyond the door.

NAN29 did just as she had been told, taking Fiona to the bathroom and helping her clean up, allowing Fiona to do most of the work. Fiona stood there, cleaning up her mess with a wipe, and through that it had been a little better when the droid had handled that sort of thing. She through to ask for more help, but decided it against it.

She put a clean diaper on, dropped her skirt to cover it, and headed out, not looking back.

When she passed through the front area Miss Imal called, "Don't try to sneak back into the nursery tomorrow either."

Fiona felt her face grow hot as she left the day care. That she would try that was ridiculous. What sort of person did she thing she was? Fiona decided she did not want to know that actually. She set off at a run to where she was meeting W37.

Playing with the older children the next day was not too bad. There was only one nanny droid with the group, and they were given more freedom in what they did. There were three holo stages, so the children could watch drams or docus or other entertainments, or play games. There were lots of toys as well, but much more mature and educational than the ones that Fiona had to play with the other days.

Fiona was treated well by the other children; she could always make friends easily. None of them knew about her time in the nursery, or her diapers, and she did not tell them about it.

She handled her own diaper changes, taking new ones from a locked cabinet in the bathroom. The cabinet had been keyed to her so she could get into it. She wondered if any of the other children knew what was in there?

Again, she almost missed having someone else take care of it for her, and tried to make it to the toilet to minimise the clean up.

The day ended quickly enough, and she knew she would not be back. From the records she had received from her surveillance equipment and W37 she knew that whatever was happening was happening the next day.

It was time to get her life back.

Barasia bowed before Trade Minister Vekara Tin, "Welcome to Corruscant," she said politely, hiding what she truly felt.

"Ah, Jedi Westt," he said in badly accented galactic basic. "I am pleased to be there."

"We are pleased to have you," she told him. "Please, let me lead you to the conference room where everyone is waiting."

"I thank for kindness in words."

Barasia smiled, disgusted by the alien's poor speaking ability. He could have had the decency to use a protocol droid and spared her. "Come this way."

"I thank you again," he told her.

Barasia led him down the corridor, towards the elevator that would take him up to the conference room, not that he would ever get there alive.

She could not believe her luck when she had been assigned to be his bodyguard. She was going to kill him, and then send his body up the elevator so it would spill out in the conference room. Not long after that, just enough time for one or tow people to leave to spread the tale, she was going to set off the explosives she had planted, which would take care of the senators, and the others.

It was something of a perfect plan, in her opinion. She reached under her robes and drew out her lightsabre. What better weapon to kill him with.

When she reached the elevator she tapped the call pad. The doors opened and she stood aside so that Vekara could enter first. As he stepped by her she shifted her sabre about, ignited it, and was brining it down when something his her, driving her back, and away from Vekara.

She stumbled, keeping her feet, and turned her attention to her attacker.

"You," she said with anger.

"Me," Fiona Westt, in her old body, replied. She turned slightly and used the force to push Vekara into the elevator, and the seal it, sending up to the conference room.

"I should have made sure you were dead."

"You should have. Now, we have business to take care of."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"I want my body back."

"Come and get it. I may not be able to kill you little girl, but I can make you hurt."

"We'll see," Fiona said, and then exploded into action.

Barasia was taken by surprise by the amazing burst of speed. The child literally ran up the wall, and then spun a kick directly into her chest, driving her further back. She sprung forward, hitting Barasia again, slamming her small body into the much larger woman, and knocking her over. Fiona bounded off and landed safely on her feet.

"You are not very good at this," Fiona told Barasia.

"You little witch!" she screamed, and charged forward, lashing out with barely controlled bursts of Force lightning.

Somehow Fiona managed to avoid the dark energy that scorched and tore the walls, and then ducked out of the way of Barasia's attacks.

"Trying to fight me with my body's reflexes, how stupid can you get?"

"Die!" she bellowed, lashing out with her lightsabre, cutting the floor, walls and ceilings, but somehow missing Fiona.

"You let your anger control you young Barasia. You must be calm."

"Will you shut up!" she yelled, near panting from her exertion, trying her best to strike down the small child who mocked her.

She was suddenly over balanced, and Fiona moved in, using her own strength against her to slam her into a wall. There was a hiss, and something sticking was hitting her. She realized that Fiona was using restraining foam on her, sticking her to the wall.

"Let me go!" she yelled.

"No. Now, let's just get this taken care of." Fiona moved close to her. "We'll both be back where we belong in a moment."

And at that moment Barasia felt the force reach out to her and into her mind, beginning to pull her free from the body.

Fiona smiled as she felt Barasia's spirit begin to come free. In a moment everything was going to be all right. And then, suddenly, her spirit sunk back into the body, and her power was snapped back at her with such force that she fell over.

"What…"

Barasia began to laugh. "Fool! You have to want to leave a body." She began struggling against the foam. "You have to be willing! My master knew that you would fall for the bait he created, that body, and he knew I would hate it enough to want to be out of it. Young, helpless, wrapped in its own wastes! Do you really think I would want to go back to it?!" The foam began to crack.

"No. There has to be a way."

"There isn't one! You will wear that useless body for the rest of your life, unless you can find someone pathetic enough to want it!" And with that Barasia broke free from the foam. "And now I finish off my mission!" she yelled, reaching into her robes.

A look of surprise suddenly came across her face.

"Looking for this?" Fiona asked, holding up the detonator.

"You!"

"I knew you were using explosives, so I knew there would have to be a way to set them off. I took this from you when I hit you earlier. Idiot."

"Give that back!" she screamed, charging, lightsabre swinging.

Fiona brought out her own lightsabre, one she had used when training as a child. She had taken it from her room when she had snuck in there days before. The blue blade leapt from the handle and she blocked Barasia's attack, falling back down the hall.

"I will make you suffer!"

"Give me back my body and I'll let you live," Fiona replied calmly.

"You can't kill me, any more than I can kill you." She rained rapid strokes down upon Fiona, but Fiona blocked everyone. "I will keep this body. I will be strong. I will not let you stop me!" Fuelled by her anger, Barasia attacked with great strength and more skill than she had. More than once her brutal attacks almost slipped through Fiona's defences.

"Give up. I won't warn you again!" Fiona said, her high voice making the threat sounding like a joke.

"Never!"

Fiona leapt back, sailing several meters down the hall, and then she hit a wall, and flung herself back, spinning like a top, her lightsabre held in outstretched arms.

Barasia was readying to receive the attack, brining her weapon up to block and ready to counter.

For a moment that lasted forever Fiona considered what she was about to do. She played out other options in her head, considered the fight and how it had gone. Barasia got better with every attack, learning more and more what the body she had stolen could do. She had height, reach and strength. Fiona knew that she would not beat her if the battle went on much longer.

With that thought in mind she pulled her arms in and tucked her self up small. Her rate of spin increased dramatically, the blade whipping past Barasia's defence and taking the top part of her head off at nose level.

Fiona landed on the floor, gracefully, as her old body fell to the floor, dead. She felt a moment of disorientation, as if she might die as well, but she stood against it and it passed. She turned and looked at Barasia, knowing that she was going to be stuck in the body she had acquired for some time yet.

She was suddenly aware that her diaper was heavy with a soiling. It must have happened during the fight. Not surprisingly she had not noticed.

Suddenly she felt like crying.

"Master Westt I presume," she heard the familiar voice of Mace Windu say from behind her.

She forced the tears back and turned to face him, turning her lightsabre off in the process. "Master Windu," she said, keeping her voice even.

He looked between her and the dead body laying the ground. "I suppose this will be an interesting story."

Fiona simply nodded.

Both turned when they heard the sound of people running towards them. "Hide," Mace ordered her, then moved down the corridor towards the approaching people.

She did as she had been told, all but disappearing in a patch of shadow, waiting to see what the Jedi Master would do.

Three security guards came around a corner and then stopped when they saw Mace standing there.

"Master Windu?" The man in the lead said. "We had reports of something going on here and…"

"It has been taken care of, for the moment," he said, interrupting the man. "An assassination attempt was stopped, though at great cost. Master Westt has been killed. I need you to cordon off this area while I go and hunt down the one behind it."

"Yes sir."

Mace turned and walked away from them, as he passed the shadow in which Fiona hid he said softly, "My office."

Fiona watched him go, and watched the security people begin to do their job. What had Mace meant when he said she was dead? She was alive, albeit in a different body. She was very worried when she snuck out of the hotel a few minutes later, making her way back to the Jedi Academy.

It was a few days before things were put into some semblance of order. The meeting between Vekara and the others had gone as well as could be expected, but the attempt on Vekara's life had soured his opinions slightly.

Still, it went far better than if he had been killed and the conference room had been blown up.

Fiona had basically hidden out at Mace's orders. She was being listed as dead, a victim of the assassin, in order to protect the reputation of the Jedi. She understood that, but was not sure what it would mean for her.

She knew she was going to find out when she was called before Mace Windu and Yoda.

"Strange is this, of the dark side it is," the small Master said, looking with lidded eyes at Fiona.

"So it would seem," Mace said.

"Hid from us you did, in shame. Shame, like hate, can lead to the dark side."

"I'm sorry Master Yoda," Fiona said in her small voice. "I thought I could take care of it on my own, that," she paused, "that no one need know."

"That was a mistake," Mace told her, but not unkindly.

"Even a Jedi may make a mistake," Yoda said. "Will they make it again in the question."

"I don't understand?"

"You cultivated a weakness within yourself," Mace told her. "It allowed you to be attacked. Do you still have the same weakness?"

"I still don't understand."

"A child's body you wear. Always will be a child's body," Yoda told her.

"You mean I won't grow up?"

"That body was designed to be an eternal child. There is no way to change it."

Fiona thought on what that meant, not quite willing to accept it.

"Desire to be an adult now," Yoda said. "With the same weakness it leaves you. The same mistake you will commit."

Fiona nodded. "I understand. My own actions have led to this. I will live with the consequences," she said, and added silently, 'however long that will be.'

Mace nodded. "I trust you will."

"And what do I do now? I'm dead."

"Fiona Westt is dead. You are very much alive and in the position to be quite useful."

"A child may go where an adult may not," Yoda said. "Invisible can be a child in the presence of adults."

"That makes sense," Fiona said, seeing the value in it immediately. "I can think of a number of things I could do now."

"I'm certain you can, and we are quite willing to let you," Mace told her. "You will need some help, however."

"Alone, a child will be noticed. With caretaker, will be ignored," Yoda said.

"Who?" Fiona asked.

At that moment, no doubt on cue, the door to the meeting room opened and Clara Bandou walked in.

"Miss Bandou," Mace said, nodding to her.

"Master Windu, Master Yoda," she bowed to them.

Mace looked at Fiona. "As the two of you are friends I am certain that you will find it easy to work with each other."

"Miss Bandou will your mother be, your older sister, your governess, as required," Yoda said.

Fiona smiled slightly. "And you finally get the excitement you were looking for," Fiona said to Clara.

"And a great deal of danger," Mace said evenly.

"I know Master Windu," Clara told him. "But I am willing to do what is needed to help."

"Brave you are," Yoda told her. "Careful you must be."

"I will Master Yoda."

Both the Masters nodded and turned to look at Fiona once more. "Are you ready for this?" Mace asked.

"I am."

"Then may the Force be with you both."

Later, Clara and Fiona walked out onto the landing platform where the Gray Dove waited. Almost everyone believed that Fiona had died, and that she had left her ship to her old friend Clara Bandou. A few people offered their condolences to Clara; no one seemed to pay much attention to the young girl with her.

"It looks like Nairoto did a good job fixing my ship," Fiona said as they approached it.

Clara nodded, then turned to look down at Fiona. "Do you need a change?" she asked.

Fiona felt her face grow warm and lowered her head. "No," she said in a small voice.

"Good," Clara said. "Then we can get moving." She did not seem to notice how uncomfortable her question had made Fiona. Almost as if she had thought it a perfectly acceptable question to be asking her old friend. And it was, she realised, for she was not, in some ways, Clara's old friend, but a small child that wore diapers.

"Come along," Clara called as she approached the ship.

Fiona ran after her and caught up just as Clara reached the ship. She was about to climb into the cockpit, and put herself in the pilot seat, when Clara scooped her up and then placed her in the co-pilot's seat.

Fiona was a little surprised, and understood that she would not often be flying her own ship, not while Clara was around. She was then treated to a further indignity when Clara began to put the restraint belts on her.

"I can do that," Fiona said, a little too harshly. She regretted it immediately, realising that her control over her emotions was not quite what it should be.

"I'm certain you can," Clara said, continuing on as she had been. "But sometimes children are not trusted to do what they can do. You are going to have to remember that if you are to act like a child, right?"

"I'm sorry, you're right," Fiona told her.

"Good." She finished taking care of Fiona and then slid into the pilot's seat and did up her own restraints. "We are ready to go then." She turned to face the controls and a puzzled look appeared on her face.

Fiona reached over and activated the start up sequence.

"Thanks," Clara said, it was her turn to blush slightly. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to this lay out."

"You and me both," Fiona told her.

Clara smiled and reached with confidence for the controls.

A few seconds later the armour plates slid over the cockpit and hatches on the ship, sealing it off, and the Gray Dove lifted into the air. The heat sinks folded back into the engine compartments and the engines slid once more into the ship.

It climbed for a minute, gently raising on its repulsor lifts, then turned and rocketed into the sky, towards space.