AUTHOR: Cascadia
TIME: 7 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 18
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash
SUMMARY: Someone has infected Obi-Wan with a memory-loss virus. What are their plans for him now?
ARCHIVE: Please ask first.
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Anything between * * are personal thoughts. Anything between / / are Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon talking through their bond.


Staring out the front viewport, Obi-Wan saw the legion of Warisellan soldiers, all heavily armed, surrounding the ship. Crand had landed the Hrudian transport at the main military spaceport on Warisell. It looked hopeless, Obi-Wan thought. He could try to fight his way out - although he would likely be killed or injured very badly. Even if he were able to escape the soldiers, what then? Where could he go? He would probably be hunted down. He could try to use Noli or Crand as a hostage. But again, where could he go? The whole planet would be after him. He would willingly give his life as a Jedi, but he would not if it served no purpose, nor helped anyone else. Doing anything but surrendering now would only be suicide, he reasoned. And his own sense of self-preservation kept him from trying anything too desperate. He had tried to contact Qui-Gon several times before through their bond, without success. He was not sure where he was, but it was far enough away from Qui-Gon that the connection could not reach him. He could sense him through the Force, but that was all.

"Come on, little padawan," Noli sneered. "Your fans are waiting." She held out her hand towards the blaster in Obi-Wan's hand.

Hesitating, Obi-Wan quickly considered his decision again. Then he reluctantly handed her the weapon. Crand roughly pushed him when he did not immediately follow Noli out.

Out in the bright mid-day light, the three new arrivals stopped in the midst of the Warisellan legion. The scaly, blue Warisellan soldiers approached them, weapons readied.

"This one's the Jedi," Noli announced loudly, as she pointed to Obi-Wan. Then she and Crand walked through the soldiers, who cleared a path for them.

Surrounded, Obi-Wan tried not to flinch when one guard snapped a Force-inhibiting collar around his neck. Then, as he was quickly escorted in the direction Noli had disappeared in, he wondered what they had in store for him. As far as he knew, Noli was finished with him. Her goal was accomplished. So, what would happen to him now?

After a short walk, Obi-Wan was pushed in a speeder and whisked away to a large building - the Governor's mansion, Obi-Wan learned. On the way there, he noticed how barren and poor the landscape of Warisell appeared. Although he had never been to this planet before, he guessed that this was a poverty-stricken planet - or very nearly there.

Before entering the house, his wrists were restrained in front of him by a set of binders. Then a small squad of soldiers led him in the mansion.

Sparsely furnished, the Governor's mansion confirmed the padawan's suspicions that Warisell was in economic trouble. There were a few once-expensive pieces of furniture and art, but they were decrepit. Even the mansion itself showed signs of neglect.

The guards stopped in front of a door, keying in a code. When the door opened, Obi-Wan was taken into the Governor's personal study. Bookshelves filled with decaying books lined the walls, and a small desk sat in the corner. Seated behind the desk was a tall Warisellan. His short snout wrinkled at the appearance of the Jedi prisoner.

"We have made a deal with Miss Cordone," the Warisellan governor plainly stated, his red eyes steady. "You will be sold, and the profits will be split between our government and Lanovir."

Obi-Wan's heart sank. He would rather be kept prisoner here than be sold as a slave. However, he had no choice in the matter.

"We will make a holo of you to send to an acquaintance of mine to see if he is interested. He owns a vineyard and is always in need of field workers," the Governor continued. "If he is not, then we will look for another buyer. A Jedi is sometimes a hard thing to sell," he said like he knew from experience. "Some don't want to live with the fear of what a Jedi can do. Others take it as a challenge. I believe my friend will be pleased to buy a Jedi... but the decision is his." He nodded to someone behind Obi-Wan.

One of the soldiers came before him, holding a holo-recorder in his hand. The soldier pointed it at Obi-Wan and turned it on.

After a few seconds, the Governor said, "raise your head up. So we can get a good view of you."

Self-consciously, Obi-Wan raised his head slightly, stealing a quick glance at the recorder. He realized that resisting would only make things worse for him, and nothing would be gained. He would have to bide his time until a possible escape could be found.

"That's better," the Governor assured.

This was all happening so fast. Obi-Wan's mind wandered to his master. Before, the distance kept him from reaching Qui-Gon through the Force. Now, he had a Force-inhibiting collar that effectively blocked any communication. *Will Master Qui-Gon ever find me?* he thought miserably.


"I was going to wipe your memory again," Noli said. "But I changed my mind, because I want you to remember everything I've done to you... so you can hate me." Noli had insisted that she wanted to talk to Obi-Wan after his meeting with the Warisellan Governor. She stood with him in the midst of the mansion's dried up gardens. Guards stood nearby, keeping watch over them.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Obi-Wan quietly replied, reciting a tenet of the Jedi Code. His wrists were still held by the binders - and the Force-inhibiting collar remained in place. But he felt a small sense of victory in defying her confused logic.

Noli glared at him. "When you've been a slave for thirty years, you'll look back to this day and you WILL hate me," she declared. "You'll never be a Jedi Knight. All of your life has been wasted in stupid training, just so you can be a slave. And your master... he'll wonder for the rest of his life whatever happened to you."

Although Obi-Wan's outward appearance was calm, inside his emotions were in a state of turmoil. What if Noli was right, and he was a slave for the rest of his life - never attaining the level of Jedi Knight? And what about Master Qui-Gon? Obi-Wan feared that the man would never get past what he perceived as his own failure to protect his padawan. Obi-Wan knew he himself was known to be very sensitive, and Qui-Gon was usually regarded as nearly emotionless - almost callous by those who did not know him. But the padawan knew that despite Qui-Gon's usual outward peace, there was a very sensitive man beneath. And if he blamed himself for Obi-Wan's loss, he would never move beyond that failure.

Guards suddenly appeared around them, breaking Obi-Wan from his thoughts. "A deal has been reached," one of the soldiers announced, as they took possession of him and escorted him away.

"Have a nice life," Noli called after him.


Qui-Gon stood, watching master/padawan teams engaged in strenuous training exercises. It had been weeks since last training with his own padawan. He realized that he was allowing himself to sink into depression. Healer J'Reedon warned him about worrying too much. But it was beginning to look like he would never find Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon even noticed his padawan's Force signature disappear, but he decided to tell no one.

"Qui-Gon," a voice drew him back to his surroundings. "Qui-Gon." It was Mace. The councilor rushed up to him, excitement in his actions.

"What is it, Mace," Qui-Gon asked, uncertainly.

"I have something I need to tell you," Mace said, pulling the tall Jedi master over to a bench and directing him to sit down. With Qui-Gon seated, Mace continued. "We just received a transmission. It's from a lawyer on Tirtam who sent a last request message from someone named Sorru Teanyl. He was a shipment pilot for Lanovir Mining Systems. Before he died, he wanted to get his conscience clear. He admitted to smuggling a young Jedi captive from Jatamansi to Catarma. It was an order from Lanovir's heiress, Nolamia Cordone. He sent the exact coordinates of the drop-off," Mace said, ecstatic.

Qui-Gon could not believe what he was hearing. This was what they needed to find Obi-Wan. And now they had a suspect in the padawan's disappearance.

"There's more," Mace continued. "I checked on Lanovir's possible connections with the Senate. It seems that there's been a petitioning by Lanovir to get more shipping routes approved, and to eliminate some of the taxes on shipped goods." He paused for effect. "Senator Thar Rakil of Warisell is the senator pushing for its approval."

Now it was all starting to make sense. Lanovir was making deals with Rakil, but in exchange for what? What did the senator gain? And it still did not explain what Obi-Wan was needed for.

Qui-Gon jumped up from the bench, leaving the training salles. Mace followed after him. "What are you doing?" Mace asked when he caught up with him.

"I'm going to find my padawan," Qui-Gon answered, never slowing from his hurried pace.

"Hold on, Qui-Gon," Mace shook his head. "You're not going alone. I'll send a team with you."

"Very well, Mace. But I'm not waiting. If they are not ready when I get a shuttle, then I'm leaving without them," Qui-Gon calmly said, still hurrying to the hanger.

Mace stopped, pulling out a com-link. "Larn, I need a team ready... NOW."


The ride to Catarma was too slow for a certain tall Jedi master - taking days to reach Catarma. If it were at all possible, Qui-Gon would have teleported there. He thought back to the last time he had seen his padawan. They were in the small restaurant in Jata, and Obi-Wan wanted to order the rich Parth steak with four side dishes. The padawan knew he could not consume it all, but was going to try out of desperation. Qui-Gon suddenly realized that he was now just as desperate to find Obi-Wan. He needed to release these feelings to the Force. Only then could he keep his focus on the present. Sure, he wanted to find Obi-Wan, but to do so blindly would only defeat his purpose.

Nima and Torani had arrived at the Temple's hanger just as Qui-Gon was about to leave. He was not kidding about leaving alone if no one else was ready. He was prepared to search for Obi-Wan by himself. But the welcome addition of an old friend was comforting. He knew he could rely on Nima. And Torani was progressing fine in her training. She would only be a help, too. It was reassuring that he was with people he knew he could trust.

Now, the three of them waited - very impatiently - for their shuttle to reach Catarma. None of them had ever been there before. It was not a very populated planet - with over ninety-five percent of the surface water. But they had the coordinates of where Obi-Wan was handed over to Nolamia Cordone. So it would not be difficult to find Cordone's manor house. And hopefully, Obi-Wan would be there.

Qui-Gon did not want to think about if his padawan was not there, if they came up on another snag. Still, this was the best lead they had - and a good one it seemed.

A few hours later, their shuttle landed gently at a safe distance from the manor house - so as to not be heard or seen. A surprise attack was what the Jedi had in mind. They disembarked the shuttle and crept through the dense tropical vegetation towards their destination. Qui-Gon led the way, with Nima and Torani following, keeping watch in all directions. They did not know what they might be coming up against. There could be a private army waiting, or there could be no one. But they could not take any chances. It was probable that whoever was here was not going to be friendly to Jedi.

Qui-Gon stopped at the edge of the floral cover, spying the house in plain view. This looked like the back of the place. There was a wide, covered garden that was connected to the house. They would have to go through the garden to enter the house from this direction.

Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, sensing a few lifeforms in the house. Nima and Torani came up behind him. They crouched behind tall ferns, waving in the breeze. With the light nearly gone, they decided to wait until it was dark to make their attack.

Within a couple hours, night had settled in - and the moon dance began in the sky. It was beautiful, the Jedi agreed, but it provided more light than they would have preferred.

Together, they moved silently through the covered garden and reached the back door. Cautiously, Qui-Gon tried the door, finding that it was not locked. It swished open - showing a long hallway lined with doors. Qui-Gon swallowed nervously, peering over his shoulder at Nima who was right behind him. Giving an approving nod, Nima realized that Qui-Gon was probably more uneasy than either she or Torani was. Obi-Wan meant so much to him - he was like a son. And therefore, it was more difficult to keep himself grounded in the Force.

They crept down the hallway, pausing periodically before each door, sensing if there was anyone there. Suddenly, they detected someone approaching. They quickly fled into one of the rooms that they had already detected was empty and waited. Just as the person passed the door, Qui-Gon jumped into the hallway, pulling the unsuspecting person back against him. His arm was around the woman's neck, and in the other hand he had his ignited lightsabre held before her face.

"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon asked menacingly - so much so that Nima and Torani exchanged startled glances. Qui-Gon silently berated himself for letting his worry get to him. He would need to be calm - and listen to the Force - in order to function at his best.

The woman squirmed, but Qui-Gon only held her tighter - bringing his blade closer to her face.

"Let me go," she called out. "Crand, help me," she shouted. Qui-Gon whirled around when the huge bodyguard appeared at the end of the hall - a blaster in his hand.

Nima and Torani held their ground behind Qui-Gon. They were all using the woman as a cover.

"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon demanded again.

The woman stopped struggling. "Oh, so you're the master," her voice now oily. "I didn't think you Jedi were smart enough to figure it out."

Crand just stood watching, his blaster ready.

"What have you done with him?" Qui-Gon questioned.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Jedi master," she sneered.

"Tell us what we want, and perhaps we can make a deal," Nima offered. "Testify against Senator Rakil and we'll see that your sentence is lightened."

"Why should I do that?" Noli debated. "You Jedi can't guarantee anything where the Republic's concerned."

"We'll do what we can," Nima encouraged.

During all the talk, Noli had sneaked a small knife from her pocket. Quickly, she plunged the blade in Qui-Gon's arm that held her. Drawing back from the unexpected pain, the tall Jedi master involuntarily let go of Noli. She darted forward down the hall towards Crand, who provided blaster cover for her escape. The Jedi blocked the blaster fire with their lightsabres until the two suspects disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall.

Qui-Gon charged after them, drawing on the Force to keep his focus. Turning the corner of the hallway, he paused - reaching out to sense where Noli and her bodyguard had disappeared to.

Nima and Torani left through the back door to spread out and search.

Seeing an open doorway, Qui-Gon stepped through into a large foyer. He traveled through to the front door and went outside.

Hearing an low hum, Qui-Gon ran to the side of the manor house to find the source of the sound. It was an open speeder with Noli and the big man in it. After running to the speeder, Qui-Gon jumped, landing on Crand, who was in the driver's seat. The two men wrestled in the cramped front seats. Watching wide-eyed, Noli was pushed back against the side door.

Nima and Torani arrived at the speeder, seeing Qui-Gon wrestling with the huge man.

Crand managed to draw his blaster from its holster, despite Qui-Gon's attempts to prevent him. Then Qui-Gon grabbed the man's arm, trying to push the barrel away. Crand, sure that he had Qui-Gon, pulled the trigger. The blast was answered with a shrill cry as Noli slumped over, taking the impact in her chest. Momentarily distracted by Noli's pained cry, Crand lost the battle for the blaster. Qui-Gon climbed out of the speeder and kept the blaster trained on the huge bodyguard.

Crand pulled Noli's body across his lap. Seeing her lifeless body, Crand bowed his head, touching his forehead against hers. "No," he pleaded softly. He paid no more attention to the Jedi - his attention focused on the woman whom he had served as her faithful bodyguard, pilot, and anything else she required. There was never anything romantic between them, but Crand cared very deeply for her. "Please, Noli," his voice breaking. "Please don't die."

After scanning her with the Force, Qui-Gon discovered that she already was dead. The three Jedi stood solemnly by as Crand mourned.


Row after row of Creffer vines ran on for acres. The deep-green leafed flora sprouted small, tart citrine-colored berries, which were used to make cazher wine - an expensive commodity in the Republic. Harvested year around, the fruit was easy to collect, but nevertheless a very tedious job - and not one that any cazher mogul would submit himself to. That job was reserved for field workers - or in some cases, slaves. There was no danger in the labor, except for the tiny thorns that dotted the stems. It was a painstaking job for anyone, even more so for those who wanted to save their skin from endless cuts and scratches.

This particular vineyard employed almost entirely slaves. There were a few overseers who were free, but the majority were in servitude. The overseers periodically checked the rows to insure that the slaves did not waste time. Most were never guilty of such a crime, but those that were fell subject to the guards stationed there. Punishments were not handed out without clearly breaking the rules. The slaves who were found guilty of a crime paid harshly, but rarely suffered death.

The slave-master here was an average-sized human, with dark hair and penetrating eyes. He dealt shrewdly with his slaves, never letting them see in him any weakness or compassion. And he had an air of authority that even his guards jumped at.

A tall guard strolled through the vast vineyard, glancing down each row. Spying a young man midway down a row, the guard turned and stopped just behind the kneeling figure. "Get up, the master wants to see you," said the guard casually.

Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to the tall man standing over him. Slowly he stood, trying to prevent his back from burning. Last night he had attempted to escape from the estate, only to be surprised that remote sensors were spaced periodically throughout the entire surrounding land and house. The course brown cloth of his simple tunic did little to prevent more pain to his whip-striped back. Wincing, the young man wiped his dirty hands on his pants legs, trying to clean himself up as much as he could. The master did not like to see his slaves unless they were well bathed.

After a week here, Obi-Wan was beginning to wonder if he would truly live out the rest of his life here. Was Noli right? He tried to not think about that possibility too much, but he didn't want to hold false hope either. Gingerly, he followed the guard to the estate house where the slave-master resided. What could the man want with him, Obi-Wan wondered? It was a little frightening not knowing. And with his Force ability cut off by the inhibiting collar, he had difficulty controlling his fear. The closer he got to the house, the more nervous he felt. He didn't think that the man would beat him for no reason, but he had only been here a week, so he could not be sure.

After climbing the steps to the front door, Obi-Wan was pulled by the guard through the parlor room and into the master's study. Immediately the young man's eyes fell on a tall, serene figure with long hair and beard. Obi-Wan tried to hide his recognition, as the tall man was not dressed in his Jedi robes - obviously undercover so as to not betray any Republic affiliation, which would only stir up contempt from slaveholders. As both the eyes of the slave-master and Obi-Wan's Jedi master rested on him, his anxiety mixed with relief. He diverted his eyes back to the floor - where proper slaves were supposed to look - although he found it difficult to not stare at Qui-Gon. After all, it had been a long time since he had been in his presence.

"You see," the slave-master said. "He is a fine slave, but I feel that he keeps his defiance hidden until he finds a way to try an escape. I wanted a Force-sensitive because I'd never had one before. He's not much different than a regular slave if you keep the collar on him. Only," he paused, considering, "the fact that he was a Jedi apprentice makes him a little more deceptive in his thinking. You think he'll be no trouble, but then he tries to escape... like he did last night."

"Did you punish him," Qui-Gon asked coolly - betraying no sign of genuine concern.

"Yes. And I'm not sure if he's learned his lesson either. But our security here can handle him. I really don't want to part with him. I've only had him a week... but if the price is right, I could reconsider."

This was very humiliating and embarrassing to Obi-Wan. He was a sentient being, not to be bought and sold like a beast of burden. And he had no say in what was decided regarding him.

Qui-Gon wondered if Obi-Wan remembered him - or the fact that he was a Jedi. The slave-master knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi, but did the padawan remember? According to Researcher Garil Dubelt, Obi-Wan may not remember much of anything. Qui-Gon noted that the padawan did not seem to recognize him when he was first brought in the room.

Following the capture of Crand, the huge man agreed to cooperate with authorities in order to bring down Senator Thar Rakil, in exchange for a lighter prison sentence. The man was totally broken after Noli's death. So, he readily accepted the Republic's offer. Crand told all about Noli's plan with the Warisellan government and Obi-Wan's slavery at a cazher vineyard.

"If it's not too much to ask, could I know how much you paid for him?" The Jedi master came prepared with a credit chip with an unlimited balance - provided by the Jedi Temple. Although he did not want to just throw credits at the slave-master, Qui-Gon was not going to let Obi-Wan get away either.

"I prefer not to say," the slave-master replied, smoothly - testing Qui-Gon's interest.

"I'll pay you twice what you paid for him," Qui-Gon boldly stated - his face remaining neutral. He hoped so badly that he was not being too aggressive. The man would not have to sell Obi-Wan to him, and Mace had warned Qui-Gon to not 'go in with your lightsabre flying, striking down everything that moves in your way to get to Obi-Wan'. He reached for his source of calm - the Force - and refocused his thoughts on the whispers it sent his way.

The slave-master walked over to Obi-Wan - who still focused his gaze on the floor before him - and combed his fingers through the young man's hair, considering Qui-Gon's offer.

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan fought to not shrink away from the man's touch. Up to this point, the slave-master had not shown any interest in him - except as a field slave. Perhaps the man was only contemplating Obi-Wan's overall worth.

Turning back to Qui-Gon, the slave-master responded, "You can have him for two hundred thousand credits, no less." Then he seemed to relax... putting all the pressure on Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon drew in his breath at the price. That was a steep price, for any slave - inflated, Qui-Gon thought. Then he admonished himself for putting a price on anyone's life.

Taking the delay for loss of interest, the slave-master replied, "I'm sorry, but I will go no lower. You are welcome to look at any other slaves I have. Most of my slaves here are workers... so you won't find much to satisfy uh... other interests," he smiled cruelly.

Noticing his palms drenched in perspiration, Obi-Wan unconsciously wiped them on his pants.

"No," Qui-Gon said - all too quickly. "I accept the price." Handing the credit chip to the slave-master, he continued, "you will find enough on my credit chip."

The seller took the chip, inserted it in a reader, and returned it to Qui-Gon. "He's yours now." Then he picked up an ownership data-pad from the room's dark-wooden desk, handing it to Qui-Gon. "And I must warn you, he has not received a tracking implant yet. I was out of them and had to order more... and they haven't arrived yet. So," he said, pausing, "you might want to keep a close eye on him," he confided.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon replied. "I'll do that."

Taking hold of Obi-Wan's arm, the Jedi master gently led the young man out the door and to a parked speeder - rented by Qui-Gon as part of his cover. After settling Obi-Wan in the passenger seat, Qui-Gon took the speeder's controls and sped away. He wanted to get Obi-Wan as far away from here as possible.

Qui-Gon drove in silence. Although he was relieved to get Obi-Wan back, he feared that his padawan would never recover his memory.

Despite still wearing the Force-inhibiting collar, Obi-Wan sensed the tension coming from his master. He knew the man well enough to recognize it and realized that Qui-Gon must believe that he did not remember him. He did not know Obi-Wan had been healed by the Force.

Too wrapped up in his relief to have Obi-Wan back and too worried over the padawan's memory, Qui-Gon did not pick up on Obi-Wan's thoughts.

"Are you my new master?" the young man asked, innocently.

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered softly, thinking his fears confirmed. Obi-Wan did not know him.

"What planet are you taking me to?" Obi-Wan asked, playing along.

Pausing, the Jedi master said, "Coruscant."

"What are you going to make me do?" Obi-Wan said.

"You can do anything you want," the Jedi master responded softly.

Obi-Wan frowned. "No discipline? What kind of master are you, anyway?" he said sarcastically.

Taken by surprise and confused by such a response, Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan and nearly directed the speeder into a bush to the side. He directed his attention back to driving the speeder, taking a moment to organize his thoughts.

Obi-Wan chuckled at his master's loss of control of the vehicle. "And Master Vanoll says you're too harsh," Obi-Wan smirked.

Qui-Gon glanced at the padawan, realization dawning. "Obi-Wan?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," the young Jedi responded.

"You can remember... everything?" Qui-Gon asked, eyes tearing.

"Yes, Master. I can," Obi-Wan smiled. "And could you take this blasted collar off?" he complained.

"Yes, I'll take it off as soon as we get to the shuttle. How do you remember? Dubelt said there was no way you would. And you should have forgotten everything by now," the master questioned.

"The Force. It healed me," Obi-Wan's voice was filled with awe. "Do you really think I'm worth two hundred thousand credits?" Obi-Wan went on.

"I did not pay it. The Temple did," Qui-Gon teased lightly.

"Then the Temple's my new master," the young man reasoned.

"You're not a slave, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, seriously.

"Are you sure?" Obi-Wan asked. "One-tenth of all slaves out there were kidnapped and forced into slavery. I'm no different... and you have my ownership records," he added, his voice belying a sense of unease. "And what about this?" he asked, pulling up his sleeve, revealing a number branded just above his wrist.

"Obi-Wan, you're not a slave," Qui-Gon reassured - yet feeling annoyed with himself. He did not want Obi-Wan to feel like he was his property.

"Can I have that in a data-recording," Obi-Wan joked.

"You can have the ownership chip," Qui-Gon replied, handing the data-pad to him.

Looking over the data-pad, Obi-Wan said, "Let's see.... One slave, Force sensitive, approximately eighteen years old, human male, light-colored hair, blue eyes, medium build, good condition." Then he broke into laughter.

Confused by Obi-Wan's light-hearted manner, Qui-Gon stole several glances at him, while trying to keep the speeder on a safe course. "I'm glad you find this amusing."

"Anything's amusing after all I've been through, Master. I'm just glad to be free again... and to remember everything," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Shall we go home, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed. "Let's go home."


AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, it's over. I hope you liked it. Thank you everyone for reading. And thank you for all the feedback. And please don't think I'm making light of a serious situation like slavery. - Cascadia