Seekers (by Cathy Pauline)

Chapter 4

Qui-Gon made the connection with Tahl in the common room, this time, and all three Jedi waited to hear what Tahl would find.

"Nephrolite... Twenty-four known sources with viable quantities for mining. The Melian system is the largest known source. Eight with particularly difficult access conditions... Nine held in government trust. Six more held privately, like Melian. Hold on..." Her voice rose in interest. "Mines on Vandos3A, a satellite of Vandos3. Held privately by one family, the Jakubeks, very wealthy with several estates in the system. Vandos3A however, is largely poor -- it was emptied of most salable minerals a hundred years ago, the environment destroyed. Here's the kicker: the Jakubeks run their mines almost exclusively with the labor of "indentured servants" -- individuals sell two-year contracts for their labor. There was a complaint against them in the Senate only a few years ago, a petition for trade embargo, by the Sentient Rights Commission, 'for use of physical punishment as inducement to labor resulting in scarring and permanent impairment, and common use of child labor, particularly boys as young as ten'." Tahl lifted her face, her eyes intense for all she could not see them. "Let me check for Offworld connections ... Yes, Offworld has approached the Jakubeks at least twice in the past two years. However they hold no contracts for Jakubek nephrolite."

"This could be it," said Tomas, looking to Qui-Gon.

He nodded. "It's the best lead we've gotten yet." He looked thoughtful.

"I can keep looking," said Tahl. "I'm still getting information from my contacts on Xanatos' recent business dealings. If I can just get a step ahead of him..."

"How far is Vandos3?" asked Qui-Gon.

Ki-Erin consulted the Navicomputer.

"Not close. Three and a half days."

"This may be it," Tomas argued. "I think we should follow it up."

"Yes," said Qui-Gon decisively. "Let's go."

"Check in when you get there," said Tahl.

"We will. Thank you, Tahl." Qui-Gon closed the connection.

*****

Tomas and Ki-Erin had a set routine for preparing the ship for takeoff. Qui-Gon helped by taking care of communications with the spaceport, and within fifteen minutes they were ready to leave. They sat together in the cockpit as the exit protocol guided their ship up and out through the dome. Behind them the sun shone through the bubbles on the rocky surface, as it had when they arrived.

"Like scattered dewdrops," Ki-Erin murmured. She had the pilot's station once more, and Tomas again was navigating.

When the planet had faded to a white crescent behind them, Ki-Erin turned to the two men. "I don't understand why you think Xanatos would have brought Obi-Wan to Vandos3."

Qui-Gon and Tomas looked at each other.

"It's a tenuous link, it's true," Tomas said.

"Xanatos never does anything for just one reason, not if he can help it. We have two links from Xanatos to Vandos3: nephrolite, and slavery," said Qui-Gon

"Why do you think he's made Obi-Wan a slave?" Ki-Erin asked.

"Or disguised him as one..." put in Qui-Gon.

Tomas sighed. "The clues he left."

"There's more you haven't told me," she said flatly.

"Padawan--" Tomas sighed. "Xanatos... left evidence that he'd beaten the boy."

Ki-Erin face drained of color, leaving her freckles and bright green eyes standing out in her pale, shocked face. Tomas glanced at Qui-Gon, who nodded, then turned back to Ki-Erin, speaking softly. "You can see for yourself if you wish. But I warn you, it's not an easy sight."

"The petition against Vandos3... 'physical punishment as inducement to labor...'"

"That particular kind of... institutionalized abuse, it's fairly rare now, thankfully."

"I see." Ki-Erin swallowed. "Still, they have no contracts with Offworld."

Qui-Gon spoke up. "Offworld has been known in the past to take over mines and other assets by force or trickery."

"Poor Obi-Wan... to be caught in the middle of such a mess..." Ki-Erin turned back to the viewport ahead, staring out almost sightlessly.

"I'm sorry, Ki-Erin," said Qui-Gon in a sad, quiet voice. "It hurt me so to see it... I just wanted to spare you that burden. I didn't mean--"

"I understand," she interrupted tightly. "And you were right: I don't want to see."

Tomas put a hand on her shoulder, then turned to Qui-Gon, who looked pale and haggard himself.

"You're exhausted, Qui-Gon. Go rest. I'll work on analyzing the database Tahl sent us while you sleep."

Qui-Gon rubbed his tired eyes, then started to shake his head.

"You've been awake at least twelve hours longer than we have, unless I miss my guess: we rested on our trip to Telos. If you abuse yourself you'll be no good to anyone when we need you."

"All right," Qui-Gon agreed. "But come get me if I'm not awake in four hours."

Tomas grimaced at Qui-Gon's retreating back. "As single-minded as ever," he said, shaking his head.

*****

The first thing Obi-Wan noticed on waking was that he was sore in every muscle. The second was that he was lying on a bed. He lifted his head to look around: he was in a tiny cabin with a table and chair by the closed door. On the table was a bowl of food, stew by the look of it. His stomach ached, reminding him that Xanatos had starved him for something like two or three days so far. Quickly he sat up. This proved to be a mistake. He felt dizzy, his bare skin cold and dry and cracking. He slid back to the bed, noting that his wrists were still bound together, though in front of him now. He willed himself to patience, calling on the Force to lend him strength. Then he slowly, carefully pushed himself upright, to the side of the bed and then to his feet, holding on to the wall to steady himself as he waited for his legs get accustomed to bearing his weight again. Finally he was able to manage two steps to collapse into the chair.

He forced himself to eat slowly, though the scent of food was driving him mad. After only a few bites he already felt stronger. The thought crossed his mind that Xanatos may have added drugs to the meal, but he decided not to worry about that. Yet.

Obi-Wan scraped the bowl clean, getting the last with his fingers; then he pulled the lone blanket from the bed to wrap around his bare shoulders, then turned to explore his surroundings. The door, of course, was locked: the operating panel had even been covered over and sealed. On one side wall were several empty cabinets; one door hid a small 'fresher, to his relief, with a tiny sink. After washing his face and hands and neck, taking frequent drinks from his cupped hands, he filled his empty bowl with water and drank deeply.

There were no other cupboards or corners he could see, so he wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself and sat on the bed to think. He had no way of knowing how long he had been asleep. His restlessness of the night before had turned to hallucinations before his body finally succumbed to exhaustion. He had a dim memory of Xanatos crouching over him, injecting some drug into his lower back, before sleep took him; but whether it was a true memory he had no idea. He tried to look at the spot where he thought the injection had been but he couldn't twist so far, nor reach it with his bound hands. Probably chose that spot for just that reason, he thought bitterly.

At least the cold wasn't affecting him so much any longer. He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself. Space was cold, and travelers relied on warm garments to keep their body heat in. He had nothing but his trousers and a blanket. And the Force is with me, he reminded himself. How much longer until they arrived at their destination? Four days from the time they left that last planet, whenever that was. He wondered whether Qui-Gon had reached it yet. He felt certain his master hadn't been far behind, at least at first. Xanatos must have thought so too, to have left a package for him.

Obi-Wan turned his attention to the binders on his wrists, exploring the locking mechanism with his sight and the Force. The catch seemed simple enough. He pushed at it with a tendril of power, to no effect. Several minutes of fiddling yielded no better results. The Force seemed almost to slide away from the material of the catch. I must be too tired for this, he told himself. Exhaustion crept up on him once more. He lay back on the bed, curled up in the blanket, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*****

He was feeling much stronger when Xanatos woke him again. By the time the door slid shut behind his captor he was sitting straight in the bed, awake and alert. Xanatos was holding another bowl of food, which he placed on the table; also a small silver cup, which he kept in his hand as he turned the chair to face the bed and sprawled into it with the relaxed ease of a cat, his eyes and smile predatory, watching. Obi-Wan eyed him warily in turn. Finally Xanatos held out the cup. Obi-Wan shook his head slowly.

"I don't want it."

"You'll drink it regardless." Xanatos leaned forward, taking Obi-Wan's hands and closing them around the silver cup. Obi-Wan lifted it slowly to lips: it was the same bitter, metallic drink Xanatos had given him before. He started to push it away but Xanatos caught his hands, staring at him with a dangerous look.

"Why?" Obi-Wan asked him.

"Because I said to. That's all you need to know."

Obi-Wan stared at him, silent.

"I'll remind you this once that you're not in a position to bargain. Don't get me angry, not if you want to continue sleeping in a bed. Not if you want to survive with your skin intact."

Obi-Wan felt resentment growing in him. He looked down at the hated cup, at the bitter drink he was certain was psychoactive. He resisted the urge to throw it in Xanatos' face, knowing it would be pointless to do so. Finally he threw back his head and drank it down. He felt sick. He watched, his sullen anger barely in check, as Xanatos took the empty cup and leaned back in the chair with a satisfied smirk.

"So you can be reasonable," said Xanatos.

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, staring, determined to not let Xanatos bait him. He sat still, waiting, wishing for Xanatos to leave.

"I'm not ready to go yet, my young friend, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me a bit longer. You see, there's more that I require of you. If you have any sense, you'll do exactly as I say." Xanatos paused. When the boy didn't respond, he continued, "and the first thing I require is that you hide your defiance. Ought to be an easy task for a Jedi." He smirked, then his eyes grew harder. "Drop your eyes, boy, and keep them that way. You're to keep a submissive posture, to me and to everyone else. Either hide your anger or I'll beat it out of you."

Hating Xanatos heartily, Obi-Wan struggled with himself. Let it flow past, he told himself. Bend like a tree in the wind, like a reed in the stream, and let it flow past and be gone. Gritting his teeth, balling his fists, he dropped his eyes to the floor. He barely heard Xanatos continuing with his instructions.

"The rest of you, too. You look like you're about to explode. Hands loose or folded in front of you. Face blank. What happened to that Jedi mask?"

The boy breathed deeply, focusing on calm. Xanatos, mercifully, was silent waiting for him. After several minutes he was finally able to relax his body.

"Much better," he was told. "My second requirement is your silence. You will speak only when spoken to, only when you are expected to. No questions, no objections. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan told him, his voice strained. He could feel his muscles starting to tremble, and knew the drug was starting to affect him.

"Yes sir, or yes Master when you speak to me."

Rebellion surged in him again. I'll die before I call you Master, he thought angrily. With an effort he controlled himself. "Yes, sir," he grated out.

Xanatos gave a short, scornful laugh. "I suppose that will do for now." He stood. "Eat, before the drug takes you."

A great shudder took Obi-Wan's body, leaving him wrung-out and despairing. He closed his eyes.

"Too late," he muttered quietly to himself.

A surge of warning in the Force came too late to save him: the butt of Xanatos' lightsaber struck his temple. He collapsed on the bed; barely heard Xanatos through the ringing in his ears.

"Your silence," he heard, then watched blearily as Xanatos left him.

*****

Qui-Gon's sleep was filled with troubling dreams of Xanatos and Obi-Wan: he got little rest. After several hours he gave up. Sitting cross-legged in the center of his sleep-couch, he took Obi-Wan's Force-sensitive stone from his tunic pocket and held it in his hands, cupped in his lap. Then he settled his breathing, letting his mind relax into an open state, and joined his consciousness with the Force.

He had more in mind than simple meditation. He was seeking a state which would allow him visions: the future, the present: with some control he might get some idea about where Obi-Wan was, and how to find him. He was not ordinarily inclined to rely on dreams and visions for guidance; his strength had always been with the living Force, what was present and immediate, not the unifying Force. But his dreams were tugging at him now, even waking, and he felt more in them than simple anxiety. Let them come, then; he would face the visions without anxiety to trouble him, and he would learn from them what he could.

Two hours later and more he let himself rise to the present, and found Tomas sitting in the chair by his bed, his eyes serious.

"Ki-Erin is sleeping," Tomas said. "We're in hyperspace. What did you see?"

Qui-Gon closed his fingers around the stone in his palm. "Most of it was difficult -- or impossible, at least for me -- to interpret: set far in the future, some set of possibilities. I think at least part of what I was seeing was Obi-Wan's own nightmares, or visions -- he seems to be caught in them. I'm fairly certain Xanatos has been giving him some sort of drug -- I saw Obi-Wan trying to refuse it, and being made to drink -- and Obi-Wan thinks it is giving him hallucinations. But I think it's doing more, that it's throwing him wide open to the Force, and without his consciousness to guide it, his mind has no way to interpret what he's seeing and it feels like evil dreams."

"Can you tell where he is?"

"In hyperspace, that's all I know."

Tomas looked more than a little amazed. "Do you think he's close, then?"

"I hope that's what it means. But I think there's more to it than that." He studied Tomas' kind face, patiently listening, and was uncertain how to explain. "I couldn't sleep, Tomas, though I tried. Obi-Wan's dreams kept troubling me. They're more than simple nightmares. They're Force-induced, and magnified beyond his strength or control. I think that's why they're resonating with me."

Tomas nodded. "The boy is strong in the Force, and so are you. And you have a powerful bond between you." He paused, thinking. "If you're right, then we need to know what Xanatos is up to. What is this drug he's giving Obi-Wan, and why?"

"I don't know, and again I don't know. But my instincts tell me we've got to learn the answers to both questions."

"So we decant from hyperspace long enough to pass this news to Tahl?"

"I think we'd better," agreed Qui-Gon.

*****

"Qui-Gon," Tahl answered the connection in surprise. "Surely you haven't arrived yet?"

"No, Tahl, but I have new questions for you." Quickly he summarized what he had seen in the Force.

"I've heard there are drugs that are supposed to induce visions; also there's a long list of known psychoactives," she said thoughtfully when he finished, "but I've never heard of any drug affecting Force-sensitivity. I'll ask the Council as soon as we sign off. But as we're in contact now, I'll tell you: Mace contacted Vandos3A when he heard you were going there, and arranged for you to meet with the head of Jakubek Mining's facilities and operations. I've also compiled all the information I could find on them, and on nephrolite, and can send it to you now if you're ready."

"I'm set on this end, Tahl."

"Transmitting now," she told him, keying an instruction to her datapad. "Something else I've discovered that's interesting. Offworld isn't short of nephrolite. If anything, they seem to be stockpiling it. And they've made quite a few inquiries in the past months -- often Xanatos personally, mind you -- into purchasing more."

Qui-Gon leaned back. He didn't know what to make of this news. "Then he knows something about nephrolite that we don't," he said.

"I've read everything I can find on nephrolite, and I just can't see why he's so eager to acquire it. As far as I can tell, its only use is in droid and computer manufacture -- making memory units and motivators."

"Something to look into on Vandos3A."

"You haven't slept yet, have you, Qui-Gon? You sound worn out."

"Not for lack of trying. But I think I'll be able to sleep now."

"Do that. You have plenty of time in the next three days to review what I've given you."

"Yes, Master," said Qui-Gon wryly.

Tahl sighed. "Please, Qui-Gon," she asked gently.

"I will, Tahl. Take care of yourself."

She smiled, and closed the connection.