[[Feb 2013: A few tweaks made.]]

Another day, another chapter! Thank you so much for all the support this story has received!

Disclaimer: Nope. I wish, you wish, we all wish! The only one who had no need of this wish is Lucas, the lucky guy.

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Quinlan Vos ran a hand loosely through his dreadlocks. He hadn't been a Knight that long, only a few years, and Aayla Secura hadn't been his Padawan long either…how had he let this happen? It was a show of incompetence if anything, proof he wasn't ready to have a Padawan…Force, how had he let this happen?

Aayla was still new to the galactic life outside of Coruscant, so their first few missions had been simple for her sake as much as Quinlan's. Reconnaissance, escorts, supervising treaties and elections, that kind of thing. Missions that would give her a challenge, while not being out of her skill level. Quinlan had been grateful for them too – it gave him a chance to slip into a teacher-like feeling without being under external strain.

This one had been a supervision mission, of a local election. Quinlan had shown Aayla how to influence things by simply being present, and kept up his teachings about the universe around them. She hadn't begged for a solo job on the mission, to show her skills to her Master, but Quinlan had seen the want to prove herself, to make him proud.

So, on the second to last day, he had allowed to go on ahead to their next appointment: a last-minute security check, to go over the systems of the governmental plaza. If she was there before him, she could start without him.

Quinlan would never forget the smile that spread across her face when he told her to go on and begin without him. She had sprung out of the door with limitless energy, as Quinlan laughed quietly to himself and picked up his cloak.

The scream had made him break from a walk to a run. He felt something brush his mind – Aayla – and then he had entered into the sunlit plaza, headed directly for a gang of shifty-looking individuals. They were crowed around another figure armed with the blue glow of a lightsaber.

"Master!"

Her cry was scarcely heard above the sound of blaster-fire and the hum of the Jedi weapons. Quinlan ran straight into the fray, his own lightsaber ignited, and began to fight his way to his apprentice. Aayla had been overcome quickly – she was unused to fighting on such a scale alone – and was now being carried away by three members of the group.

The hail of blaster fire was driving Quinlan back to where he could get better cover – he was no use to Aayla if he was dead. Frowning, Quinlan glared at his enemies, his sharp eyes picking out the rough and worn symbol adorning one of his opponent's armbands.

It had seen many fights and many planets, but the name connected to it rose slowly from Quinlan's memory.

The Zygerrian Slavers Guild.

Ducked momentarily in the shelter of a pillar, Quinlan got his breath back and tried his hardest to recall everything he knew about the Guild. Slavers of the Outer Rim, they were a large group who dealt mainly in Mandalorians – and Twi'leks.

Like Aayla.

Quinlan had sprung out from his cover, only to find the plaza empty. In those few precious seconds he had been out of their sight, they had run for it, seizing the chance to get away with their bounty. He sprinted for the northern arch, where the Force was telling him to go. Spinning around the corner, he saw nothing. Now he was standing here, urging the Force to tell him more.

Master Tholme's training came back to him in a rush. Padawan, to rush blindly is to make mistakes. Sometimes you must stop and think to make your course of action clear. Stopping then prevents having to stop to think later.

Quinlan deactivated his lightsaber, clipping it back onto his belt and taking a deep breath to still his mind.

The Zygerrian Slavers Guild liked Twi'leks, yes – but didn't go after Jedi. For them to target a Twi'lek Jedi, even a Padawan, there had to be something more to all this. Secondly, he hadn't heard a starship ignition, so they were still planet-side. They had come this way and would still be on the move. He would track them to their hideout, and he would break in and find Aayla.

Quinlan broke into a run suddenly, his now calm mind working as he did so. He reached out to the newly formed bond with Aayla – it was still in its developmental stages, but there none the less. And through it, Quinlan could sense Aayla – so she was alive.

He'd get her back.

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The haze brought on by the concussion grenade was beginning to wear off. Qui-Gon opened his eyes and sat up slowly, assessing himself as he did so. No major injuries, no blood, but a binding around his wrists.

He was lying where he had been thrown roughly – on the floor of a force-cage. The shimmering barrier was in place, containing him, and he could see only vague detail about the room beyond. The floor beneath him was vibrating; so he was on a moving starship.

Qui-Gon reached out to the Force, only to find it slip from him. He couldn't reach it…

"Havin' trouble, Jedi?"

He looked up, as a bounty hunter appeared on the other side of the cage. The human – for human he was, although the cross-hatched scars on his face made him seem alien – grinned at his captive. "Awake, I see. Not too high and mighty now, are we?"

Qui-Gon rose slowly to his feet, keeping silent. The smile on his taunter's face faltered slightly under the steady yet calm gaze. He took half a step back, covering his hesitation by leaning quickly against the wall. One hand slipped down to sit on the butt of his blaster, and he tapped a finger against it leisurely.

"Strong and silent type, are we? Well I know ya strong…dunno how many guys you took out…must have been ten, at least. Impressive, ya know? You kriffing Jedi with your glowing swords and your fancy tricks…you may be Temple-rats and trouble makers for us, but you're impressive, I'll give ya that." He ran a hand through his greasy hair as the door opened.

As a Trandoshan entered, with a Bith behind him, the bounty hunter immediately stood slightly straighter. "Heya Aarlo…uh, Boss."

The Trandoshan scowled at him. "Kazel, you fraternising with the captive?"

Kazel's eyes unfocused in thought. "Frater…what?"

His only answer was a hard slap to the back of the head. The leader turned to Qui-Gon. "So you're awake, Jedi. You damaged?"

"I am not injured, if that is what you are asking," Qui-Gon replied calmly.

"Good." Aarlo glared at Kazel. "Get outta here, scum. No talking to the prisoners. Ya don't know when he'll cast one of those spells and make ya do something he wants." Kazel left the small room hurriedly.

Aarlo stepped closer to the cage as an evil smile spread across his face. "But then again, you can't, can you? Missing ya light magic? Ya 'Force' or whatever? Can ya feel the prick?"

Qui-Gon was suddenly aware of a tingling sensation on the side of his neck. Reaching up slowly to give away none of his concern, his fingertips touched a slight lump on his skin.

Experience told him what it was: an injection mark. He had been administered something – a drug of some kind. Whatever it was, it was preventing his use of the Force.

"Force-suppressor," said Aarlo in answer to Qui-Gon's unasked question. "One simple needle, and the mighty Jedi are reduced to pathetic captives." He snorted. "I'm lucky it was provided, otherwise ya might be more trouble, aye?"

Provided? Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. They had been given it? To use specifically on him – or whatever Jedi? Whoever was behind this had knowledge and skill, that was for sure. "Who hired you?"

The grin vanished from Aarlo's face in an instant. "Who the kriff are you to ask questions?"

"I know there's a bounty on Jedi. I know you're usually to afraid to go after one without the promise of a substantial reward. I know you won't hurt me – you need me undamaged; you said so yourself. Who hired you?" Qui-Gon stared at Aarlo, letting his gaze rest on the other outside the shimmer of the cage's shield.

"Like I'd tell ya anyway," Aarlo growled. "I gotta get you there alive; there's big credits in it for us. Kriff knows why anyone wants you Temple-rats alive…the less you're around to pry into the business of others, the kriffing better."

With that, he turned on his heal and left, pausing for a moment outside the door. "You'll meet our client soon – but from what I've heard, he's gonna make us seem like a bunch of dirty Ewoks in comparison."

The metal door swung shut, and Qui-Gon found himself blissfully alone. As soon as a source of external focus was gone, Qui-Gon sank down onto his knees, suddenly feeling exhausted. How was he going to get out of this? He tried to reach the Force again; but the drug was working too well, and he felt nothing. He couldn't even reach the familiar link with…

Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon felt fear and pain enshroud him as the memories rushed back. Obi-Wan had fallen…from the bridge, in the fight. And he, Qui-Gon had watched, done nothing – overtaken by concussion gas – as he watched it unfold.

Fallen to his death? Had Qui-Gon's beloved Padawan been taken from him? Was there a body lying where it had landed, void of life and spirit? He hadn't been able to feel him through their link before he passed out. Oh, Force no. Anyone but him…he had so much potential, so much life…to be ended in a fight with bounty hunters? It didn't seem right. He couldn't get his head around it…Obi-Wan…dead?

Perhaps not. Was the poor young man now lying injured and alone, dying? Was he unable to move or speak, slipping away from this world and into the Force, without his Master to help him heal? Were his last thoughts going to be of abandonment and solitude? Had Qui-Gon truly failed him for the last time?

Qui-Gon uncharacteristically lashed out at the cage that held him. Without the Force, without the Force-bond, he knew nothing! The bond could tell him if Obi-Wan were alive or dead, if he were hurt…

…if he were alive.

He could be. He could be fine, and even now searching for his missing Master. Qui-Gon held onto the thought and the hope it gave. If Obi-Wan was all right, if he had survived the fall, he would come. Of this, Qui-Gon had no doubt – there had been other times when they had been separated, and each time they had found one another, no matter what the circumstances. Obi-Wan would come, and prove once again how skilled he had become.

If he wasn't dead.

Qui-Gon pushed the negative thought to the back of his mind. He had no way of knowing the truth so it was best to hold on to the optimistic answer to help him through this.

But what was 'this'?

Who was responsible? And why? Where was he being taken? Why was he still alive? And why, Force forbid, did he have to be uninjured? Capturing Jedi, alive and unhurt, but cut off from the Force – to what purpose?

But who could it be, with the wealth to promise big credit payouts, the knowledge of anti-Jedi drugs and the power to sway the bounty hunters?

"He's gonna make us seem like a bunch of dirty Ewoks in comparison."

Qui-Gon had a bad feeling about this.

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To anyone who picked it up: Yes, Aarlo and Kazel are names from the old XBox game Sudeki (Though the one in the game is spelt Arlo, not with two 'a's like I used). I love that game.

So, there we go. Another chapter. Reviews keep Jedi in the light!