Hi everyone! Sorry to have taken so long to get chapter 2 out. I do want to let you know that the story is already finished, so you won't have to wait for me to write and type it. I am, however, having problems with the formatting and that is why it has taken me so long to post this one. I think I have it figured out now, so hopefully they will come out sooner. For the time being, stuff between these: * will indicate italics. Thanks go out to the six people who reviewed chapter 1, and now, to end my rambling, we go to the story. ^_^

See Chapter One for disclaimer

Enjoy!
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Chapter 2

*I need to retire…*

Qui-Gon slowly opened his blue eyes to be blinded by the light of the sun.

The sun?

Clutching his head, Qui-Gon rose with a grunt. He glanced around, taking in the sight of their mangled ship. His last conscious thoughts revolved around leaping from his chair before the ship's controls and running towards the galley before there was simply*…nothing.*

Which of course, he thought dryly, explained the large bump on the side of his head.

The only way for him to still be alive was for someone to have piloted the battered ship to a crash landing. It was at that particular moment that realization dawned on him.

"Obi-Wan!" he exclaimed.

The Jedi Master knelt down beside his apprentice. He pushed the Padawan braid off his face where it had landed some time before. "Padawan mine," Qui-Gon spoke quietly, gently probing the training bond, but still earning no response from the boy. It worried him to find that Obi-Wan was not fighting for consciousness, which meant either he too had hit his head rather severely or had just passed out from exhaustion. The Jedi Master fervently hoped it was the latter.

Rocking back on his heels, Qui-Gon pulled his comlink from a side pouch and frowned as it came out in numerous broken parts, obviously crushed by his great weight when he fell. A quick search through Obi-Wan's tool pouches revealed no comlink whatsoever, leaving the older Jedi to wonder just what had happened to it.

Hoping beyond hope that at least part of the ship's systems worked, he struggled past Obi-Wan and large bits of debris to the mangled controls, accidentally-and unknowingly-kicking a small, silver device under the one chair that was still attached to the floor.

It was obvious before he even reached the control panel that all systems were down.

Which left him a very interesting question indeed-Should he leave and attempt to find help? Or stay until his Padawan awoke?

Qui-Gon took one look at his unconscious apprentice and felt his insides twist. His heart told him to stay of course. But the Force, oh the blasted Force that was always right, told him to go, told him to leave his young, helpless-

Helpless? Where had that thought come from? Obi-Wan had never been helpless, not even in his darkest times. He was a Jedi, and a darn good one at that. Qui-Gon squinted through the broken viewport and nodded to the air. He would leave Obi-Wan and go get help. The Council should be contacted to inform them of their need for a ship.

Qui-Gon knelt and brushed the dried blood on his apprentice's cheek, watching as the young man flinched in his dreamless sleep. He reached out through the Force and sent a blast of healing energy, accompanied by a message.

*{Hear me, my young Padawan. I'm going for help. Stay until I return.}*

Straightening back to his intimidating height, Qui-Gon stumbled to where the door was. Knowing the controls did not work, he unclipped his weapon, ignited it, and cut a large hole in the side of the ship. With one last look at his apprentice and a wave of encouragement sent along their bond, Qui-Gon pushed his way through the newly made door and limped through the small field they were in. He opened himself up to the Force completely, suddenly feeling lightheaded and let it guide him into the forest of Jubian trees. Where, hopefully, he would find help beyond.

When at last his large form was swallowed by the shadows, the Force gave a violent shudder.

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Obi-Wan awoke with a cry on his lips. Whimpering, he rolled from his back to his side and curled into a ball. His head exploded with pain, a warning of what was to come dancing just beyond his reach. He realized he and Qui-Gon were in danger, but what that danger stemmed from he did not know.

Gathering his strength, Obi-Wan pushed himself to his knees and reached for a handhold to help haul himself to his feet. He was halfway up when the Force pulsed wearily. Obi-Wan retreated inwardly for a brief moment to assess his condition. Nothing serious-a small cut on his left cheek, a few bruises and scrapes on his arms, a small concussion accompanied by a large, purple bruise on his forehead, and the beginnings of a black eye.

Not bad, he thought sarcastically. Not bad at all.

The apprentice noticed the disappearance of his master immediately. He was tempted to go search for him when a memory struck his clouded mind.

*I'm going for help. Stay until I return.*

Obi-Wan shook his head and scowled. That was just like Qui-Gon to leave him behind.

With a sigh, he walked over to an overturned storage box and sat down, hiding his face in still shaking hands. Within moments the young Jedi was asleep.

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The next time Obi-Wan awoke, he found himself tangled in the folds of his cloak. The ship was freezing. It must be winter on the planet, he thought, wiggling his numb fingers to bring life back into them. He slapped his cheeks a few times and rubbed his palms rapidly along his thighs, hoping to gather warmth from the friction he was creating.

A quick scan of the ship revealed that there was still no sign of Qui-Gon.

Remembering the earlier tremors he'd felt in the Force-and the sense of impending danger-the Padawan decided to go searching.

Getting stiffly to his feet, Obi-Wan navigated through the ruined interiors of their once immaculate ship until he found the wardrobe case he and his master shared. Opening it, he spotted the two pairs of emergency clothes he and Qui-Gon always packed.

A few moments later, Obi-Wan was tugging his boots on again, shivering in the cold of early morning. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise over the treetops, filtering in through the broken viewport and causing itself to be brightly reflected by a small, metal object that was just partially concealed by the copilot's seat. Adjusting the sleeves of the winter tunic he was now wearing, Obi-Wan reached for his cloak and shrugged into it before fishing below the seat to pull the object out. It was his comlink.

The tiny device had somehow managed to slip out of its pouch and slide under the seat.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his copper hair, knowing there was probably dried blood somewhere in the tousled mess. He imagined he looked like Sith-not that anyone could come out of a crash looking like a beauty queen of course.

Moving cautiously towards a large hold in the ship obviously made by his master-which was encouraging enough to know that Qui-Gon was still able to perform *normal* activities without any problem-Obi-Wan stepped outside and headed towards the forest. He entered the Jubian trees tentatively, softly caressing the hilt of his weapon as he looked to the sky above him and noticed it obscured by the branches of the trees, still fully in possession of their leaves from the previous spring. He cast out with the Force, searching for some trail of his master and found one, albeit faint, which suggested Qui-Gon had not been very strong during his trek through the forest.

Why did his master have to be so stubborn!

To keep up with him, he supposed.

The forest of Jubian trees ended after a few miles of walking. As he walked out of the trees and onto a barren sandlot, feeling weakened from the walk and the injuries he'd sustained, he realized the trees were being cut down to make room for homes.

The streets were empty in every direction he turned to look in, until finally, a few empty lots down to an abandoned warehouse, a man appeared. Obi-Wan hurried forward. "Excuse me," he called once in earshot. "Can you tell me where to find a transport?"

The man looked worse than Obi-Wan did with his hair matted against his head and shiny with grease. His trousers were frayed at the bottom and held up only by a thin cord of rope. In the very middle of his lacerated shirt was a large stain of something yellowish-brown and…smelly.

"You talkin' to me?" he slurred, revealing crooked teeth and a large gap in the front.

Obi-Wan started to change directions, knowing full well that the man was drunk by the way he laughed at empty air and swayed from side to side as though he were on a ship that was flying through an asteroid belt, attempting not to get hit. At the last moment, however, the drunkard reached out and grabbed his cloak in his clammy hands.

"You again?" the man exclaimed suddenly, his eyes flashing angrily as they attempted to focus on the young man before them. "I thought they arrested you, ya Jedi scum!"

Obi-Wan backed away, snatching his cloak from the man. Hate radiated off the swaying figure like heat from the suns of Tatooine. "I don't know what you're talking about," he began. "My Master and I-"

Realization hit the young apprentice. "My Master…" he murmured.

Beside him, the drunk spoke quietly into a comlink, then stashed it in his belt and smiled evilly at Obi-Wan, his head tilting to one side then another as he struggled to remain still.

Obi-Wan turned. "Excuse me," he said, and started to walk away. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

The man pushed him from behind.

Obi-Wan rebalanced himself easily from the weak shove and kept going. He was pushed again. This time it held more strength and he stumbled into a wall. Obi-Wan struggled to keep his rapidly rising temper from exploding. He spun around to face the man with a growl low in his throat and was surprised to find him hiding behind another man. A badge on the second man's jacket identified him as a local security guard.

"Do ya see? Violent thang, dis Jedi is. Dangerous!"

The guard smiled. Obi-Wan started to protest, saw more guards coming and changed his mind. Without a word to the two men, he turned and fled, running into the first open door he found.

There were very few fights he'd run from before, and although he hated running now, he couldn't risk injuring one of the men. It was already obvious this planet disliked Jedi, and being arrested would not help his master, whom he was sure was already a prisoner somewhere.

It was dark inside the building he had entered and Obi-Wan took a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust. He wondered what the quickest way back to the ship was. As he walked slowly through the dark, Obi-Wan considered hiding somewhere in the abandoned building until nightfall when the Force suddenly screamed a warning. *Move!* it said. But the warning came a second too late.

Some unknown being hit him upon the head from behind. Obi-Wan's own impulsion mixed with that of whoever was behind him. He tripped over a bar lying on the ground and landed headfirst in a cage. Something was snapped off his belt, then the door slammed shut and clicked.

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, disoriented, and clutched the bars of the cage in his hands. His head throbbed terribly; the grinning faces beyond his prison swam in tiny circles. He started to sway when a new face seemed to magically appear amongst the group in the dark. An angel, he thought with a touch of excitement before sinking to his knees.

"Mr.Lipa! I thought I told you not to beat them!"

The owner of the voice bent down to be at eye level with Obi-Wan. The Jedi frowned as he found himself face to face with a young girl.

"He was a lively one!" Lipa exclaimed. "Besides, the Jedi from yesterday was nothing but a pathetic, Republic weakling."

Obi-Wan heard the words, but had only enough strength to manage a soft growl. Somewhere nearby in the dark, a female laughed.

That was no angel.

Mentally and physically exhausted, he stayed on the ground when the cage door clicked again.

"Nevertheless," the voice started up again, closer this time, "the more you beat them up, the more money I have to spend to fix them up. And that, Mr.Lipa, means less money *for you*."

The guard, obviously disappointed by this news, pulled the Jedi's confiscated lightsaber from his own belt. "For you, Miss.Verune."

The young girl reached inside the cage and snapped a Force collar on Obi-Wan. The Jedi jerked as his connection was cut and slumped against the side of the cage, fighting off the urge to vomit. The onlookers simply shrugged, their interest the same whether he merely blinked at the new development or exploded in furry. Satisfied that the Jedi was now 'disabled', Verune straightened and brushed her long dress off before taking the proffered weapon. "Beautiful," she murmured, transfixed by the fact that she could nearly see her reflection in the highly polished metal. Concern unexpectedly etched her brow. "He didn't even fight? I don't want Jedi who won't put up a struggle-no matter how fetching they may look. The weak ones are the worst kinds of slaves. I like a little defiance, Mr.Lipa."

Lipa reached past the slight young woman and pulled Obi-Wan from his cage. He was mumbling quietly to himself in a language other than Basic. Whatever it was, it did not sound nice.

"Oh, he fought. Just not with that. He did some kind of weird kicks and spins," Lipa lied, hoping his pay would come soon. The drunk, who was also present, was thinking along the same lines. Verune nodded. The guard dropped Obi-Wan, but the apprentice quickly scrambled to his feet, wishing he hadn't eaten anything for breakfast and then remembering that in fact, he hadn't. Still, he thought that at any moment he might be able to 'decorate' the uniform of this Lipa character with the remains of *whatever* he'd previously eaten. Actually, when he concentrated hard enough, the faces would stop swimming. Now all he had to do was find a way out of this mess.

As though she had read his thoughts, Verune pulled a pair of wrist binders from a small bag she carried over her shoulder, as well as a rather lethal looking blaster. She waved the latter in Obi-Wan's face. "Nothing funny," she warned, and put all of the items, including his saber, back into her bag. All except for the binders that is, which she deftly slapped onto his wrists.

Obi-Wan just frowned.