Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, despite my repeated pleas to Santa. It all belongs to Master Lucas.
CHAPTER 2
Qui-Gon woke with that unpleasant tingly feeling one gets after a big electric shock. He brought his hands slowly to his aching head, not wanting to aggravate it any more than necessary.
"Master!" Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open. He gazed anxiously around the cell –a cell?- and found his Padawan across the room.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked, blue-green eyes shining with worry.
"Yes. Are you?" the Master then attempted to stand. He fell heavily with a cry as a blast of pain exploded out of his knee. He felt blackness creeping up to pull him back down.
"Qui-Gon!" there was a tinkle, a thunk, and then a groan. Qui-Gon forced the blackness back and scanned the room. He was greeted with the sight of Obi-Wan sprawled on the floor, leg extended awkwardly, as his ankle was shackled to the wall. Qui-Gon carefully scooted closer and laid his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder silently asking him if he was alright. Obi-Wan nodded, then awkwardly sat up and leaned back against the dirty stone wall.
Qui-Gon leaned next to him, injured leg extended in front of him. After centering himself, he attempted to access the Force. If he could not speed the healing in his knee, it would be many days until the two of them could leave.
The Master closed his eyes and reached. Black. Oppressive. Nothingness. This wasn't the Force, it was… lack of it. Frustrated, the man pushed harder. Instead of the rush of reassurance and love he normally felt during meditation, he felt a void. With a grunt of frustration, Qui-Gon opened his eyes to find his student once again gazing at him with hope and trust.
"Were you successful?" Obi-Wan queried. At Qui-Gon's negative response, the boys head drifted downward in presumed shame. "Me either. Do you think it's a drug?"
"Actually, I believe our cell to be made of ganymite." Obi-Wan's head shot up in disbelief. Ganymite was a very rare mineral that could mostly, if not totally, block a Jedi's connection to the Force. Despite this obvious disadvantage, it was very valuable as it produced a cheap titanium substitute when melted down. With no preamble, the dim light in the cell was extinguished, plunging the small cell into utter darkness.
"And I believe that means it is time for bed." Qui-Gon laughed, glad that even though things seemed hopeless his Obi-Wan could still joke as if they were snug in their beds back at the Temple.
A harsh buzzer accompanied the abrupt return of the lighting. The occupants of cell number 5 awoke groaning. Obi-Wan felt very odd. His head felt barely attached, like he was floating. After two minutes, the guards stormed in and hauled both Jedi to their feet. As they stepped out into the hallway, something clicked and the fuzzy feeling vanished. His Master, who had been slumped and favoring his injured knee, stood up straight and tall.
Obi-Wan was still nervous, but relaxed slightly when he felt his Master brush reassuringly at their bond. They walked silently behind the guards down stone hallways. Every few feet, there was a metal door leading to another cell. If there was only one prisoner per cell, there were approximately 500 beings in this wing. At the end of the hallway, they were shoved through a door into a small room lined with cabinets and staffed by a young man, grubby and wearing clothing way too big for his scrawny form. The pair was directed to strip and don the garish orange jumpsuits that marked incarcerated persons on this particular planet. Then, barefoot, the Jedi were ushered into a large courtyard surrounded by green speckled cliffs of ganymite, which were being mined by the other prisoners. One burly guard, obviously chosen for his ability to follow orders not his thinking skills, lumbered over and directed them to a secluded corner.
"Listen well, as I will only say this once. Each morning, you will be given an assignment. Finish it by sundown and you eat." Without waiting for their assent, he walked off, already yelling at another prisoner.
The pair were set up in front of a large, old-fashioned furnace and ordered to shovel large piles of coal in order to keep the fires hot enough to melt the ganymite into titanium. If the fires became too cold, they were punched and threatened with the removal of dinner. Normally, this would have been an easy task, but the trace amounts of ganymite in the coal prevented them from solidly connecting to the Force. They had already decided they would save all their Force energy for their escape, so they were reduced to simple, physical labor. Luckily, they both managed to finish their tasks to the approval of the guards.
When the sun went down, the prisoners were gathered and escorted back to their cells. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, being further down the hall than anyone else, noticed things others missed. As the guards locked the doors, they mentally flipped a switch that told the food prep droids whether the occupants of that particular cell were to receive food that night. As they observed, Qui-Gon noticed some who were skinnier than was healthy. With their waning strength, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan discreetly flipped a few switches, hoping they would not be caught.
The duo was brought back to their sparse cell and Obi-Wan was once again chained to the wall. Qui-Gon dragged the cot from its spot by the door next to the boy. After the door closed behind the guards, the fuzzy feeling returned. Obi-Wan urged his Master to sit on the cot so he could look at the man's knee. Rolling up the baggy leg, he gulped. The joint was swollen twice its normal size and was an angry red. The youth tried one more time to touch the Force, knowing it would aid him in healing the older man's injury. He shuddered at the hollow feeling, but persisted, pushing deeper into the blackness. With a breathless gasp, he managed to connect to the Force long enough to shove an uncontrolled wave into his Master's mind, dropping the other man into a healing trance. Obi then sat back against the wall, exhausted. He tried to puzzle out the reason, he shouldn't be this tired after one day of labor. Finally, his stomach growled and told him to stop daydreaming and eat before he passed out.
After devouring half the meal, he stopped himself. Qui-Gon would need the food more than he would. He gently re-adjusted Qui-Gon so he was lying comfortably, and then covered him with his own shirt against the chill of night. He then sat on the floor next to the cot, determined that he wouldn't fall asleep until his Master had had his share of the meager rations. When the older man finally awoke several hours later, he found his wonderful boy leaning his head on his knees, fast asleep, their dinner half eaten. Qui-Gon mechanically ate the remains, and then laid back down, resting and gathering his strength for the day to come.
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