Qui-gon woke the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested. Obviously the sleep accommodations of the resort agreed with him. He stifled a yawn and stretched his arms over his head. The sun was at a fair height; he must have slept later than usual and wondered why Obi-wan hadn't woken him. He reached out through the bond to find his Apprentice and was shocked to find such a mental distance between himself and the boy. Something was wrong.
Alarmed, he rose and ran out the door and down the hall to the dorm where he had deposited his sleeping Padawan the night before. He was momentarily relieved to spot Obi-wan in the bed where he had left him, but panic rose anew when he saw the sheen of sweat that covered the boy's face. Kneeling beside the bed, a quick check with the force revealed Obi-wan's system to be compromised, and his connection to the force very weak.
They had drugged him. They had drugged a child. He wound his anger into a tight ball and released it into the force as he scooped the boy into his arms. Carrying Obi-wan back to his own quarters he settled him on the bed. The boneless form stirred as he pulled the covers up.
Qui-gon could see the effort it took Obi-wan to just open his eyes.
"Ma—" the bigger man laid a finger against the small mouth. Despite the situation, they could not afford to risk revealing themselves.
"Hush, youngling. You are safe here with your Da." He sensed a tendril of awareness return to Obi-wan as his words registered. /What has happened to you, Padawan/
/I don't remember, Master. I'm sorry./ Out loud he said, his voice hoarse, "Papa, am I sick? It hurts Papa." /They fed me a drink…/ Obi-wan cut off his thought as his head reeled in pain. Qui-gon could see him fighting to maintain control, biting his lip.
"I'm not sure, son. But I don't think it's anything too serious. I'm sorry it's hurting you." He shifted to sit on the side of the bed and looked down at the pale face lying in his bed. Checking over Obi-wan once again he calmed a little. Whatever it was it appeared to be wearing off, although slowly.
/Let go, Obi-wan. It's okay to let go./ The boy looked at him seriously for one moment, as if judging, and then suddenly shifted to tentatively lay his head in the bigger man's lap, hiding his eyes from the painful light. "It hurts so much" came the whimper. He knew Obi-Wan was not acting now. Qui-gon felt his heart clench.
Running his hand through the boy's hair he tried to accomplish several things at once; he pressed Obi-wan more firmly against him so that the boy knew he was welcome. The Master also took the edge off the pain his Padawan was feeling, and he felt him relax even further. Finally, he quietly sent the force suggestion "Sleep my poor little one." As with everything else, Obi-wan obeyed almost instantly.
Sliding out from under his apprentice, Qui-gon threw on a tunic and headed down towards the main common room to find one of their "gracious hosts". With every step he reminded himself to maintain serenity. Marching up to the first person of the race that he spotted, he demanded,
"What did you do to my son?" The words were quiet, but there was no denying their strength.
"Sir, I don't know what you mean?" The man was soon joined by a compatriot, who stood silently staring at Qui-Gon with a focus the Jedi Master found disquieting.
"He is currently sick with fever in my bed, confused and practically incoherent." The image of Obi-wan resting in his lap brought that unfamiliar clench back to his chest. How long would his Padawan remain in this condition?
"Sir, Mister…."
"Jinn, um, di Jinn." Focus old fool, you almost lost yourself there because of your worries.
"Mister di Jinn, illness in offworld children the first day here has been quite common. Rest assured he will recover shortly."
Qui-Gon gave them both a hard stare. He certainly had no doubt that this "illness" was common in children. "You best hope for your own sake that he does."
"We apologize for the inconvenience, Mister di Jinn, and offer you a gift as a token."
The B'disth who had been staring at Qui-Gon now unfolded his hands and produced a fair sized crystal – one of the most beautiful things the Jedi Master had ever seen. It had no real defined shape, but was somewhat circular and threaded with minute strands of colour.
"May I ask what it is?"
The second B'disth spoke up. "It is the physical manifestation of the love and care you have for your offspring, sir." Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose in surprise. "We B'disth are gifted with the talent for energenesis - simply put we transform emotions into matter."
"That is truly remarkable. Do they serve any utility beyond décor?"
"More than I can describe" the creature responded. "They are the very basis for the way we run our society, from powering generators to ensuring the crystals formed from positive emotions are placed in our fields to ensure a bountiful harvest."
Qui-Gon attempted to hide his surprise. Clearly this meant something to their mission, but he couldn't quite figure it out exactly. The council had said they were looking to harvest the energy between a father and child. They must have figured out how to do it, as he was holding the result in his hand. But why drug Obi-wan?
The only reason he could think of was to evoke a reaction in himself. And he had played right into their hands.