AN: Aliens abducted me. I couldn't update.

Chapter 7.

Qui-Gon's footsteps were quick, synchronizing with the pace of his heartbeat as he strode down the empty corridor. His eyes were fixed on the worn exterior of his boots, and the blurred vision of the tiled floor below. Dark thoughts wove through and around his mind, creating vivid images of his former student.

None of them were pleasant.

He swallowed thickly, stepping to the side in order to avoid collision with a young Temple Healer. She paid him no mind, and he was grateful. A distraction wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He'd wasted enough time convincing Anakin that his reasons for running out of the apartment like a man who had caught fire were substantial, and completely balanced.

Anakin hadn't believed his delusive prevarication, which was to be expected, but the boy thankfully allowed him to depart with the promise that he would return by morning.

Now if only I can keep that obligation, he mused, shoving another horrific depiction of his ex-Padawan from his illustrative psyche, struggling to keep his concentration in the present where it belonged. The image came crawling back, much to his annoyance, and was as clear and gruesome as it had been when first conceived.

He shuddered, fingers curling and uncurling around the wide hem of his sleeve. A shiver wracked his body, forcing him to let out a slow, deep breath.

You're losing it, old man. The ever-persistent voice in the back of his mind piped up. You're fretting over something that might've only been a silly dream, created by your own overly-protective imagination. Concentrate!

Releasing a bitter scoff at his own self-denouncement, he rounded the corner, consequently tripping over a smaller being, one who barely reached his knees.

After regaining his balance, Qui-Gon glanced down at the small obstacle, and was horrified at the sight.

In response, a small cane prodded his leg. "Look so dispirited, you should not. But very wise it would be, to watch your step."

"I'm -"

A new voice interrupted. "Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon inwardly kicked himself. "Mace," he greeted informally.

Windu eyed him carefully. "Where are you headed?"

Qui-Gon peered over his friend's shoulder at the main hangar entrance, only a few feet away. He grimaced. "Nowhere in particular."

Yoda chuckled dryly, and tapped his gimer stick against Qui-Gon's calf. "Your finest ability, lying never was."

Mace smirked in uncharacteristic amusement.

Qui-Gon growled under his breath. "If you'll excuse me, Masters, I -"

Yoda whacked his shin. Qui-Gon hissed. "Kneel down, you must. Too tall, you are."

Qui-Gon obeyed immediately, if only to keep the troll from bruising his legs any further. "Master Yoda, I have somewhere I need to be."

"And where is that, hmm?" Yoda drawled, lightly poking Qui-Gon's knee.

"I cannot say."

Yoda huffed. "Can not, or will not? Fear you do, of disapproval. Tell us, you will."

Qui-Gon sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the marble floor beneath his shoes. "I'm going to find him, Master, with or without your consent."

"Hmph." Yoda's ears drooped a little.

Qui-Gon continued, "He's been gone far too long. I'm worried."

Yoda stepped closer to him, a strange gleam in his eye. "Too distrusting, you are. Accompany you, Master Windu will."

Mace's head snapped around to stare incredulously at the small Jedi. Qui-Gon blinked rapidly.

"What?"

"Bad decision, this was, to send him. In danger, he is." He paused. "Felt this, I have."

Qui-Gon's stomach lurched. "Do you know of his condition?"

"Blurred, this perception was. Unaware I am, of young Obi-Wan's health."

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Qui-Gon stood somewhat shakily.

Mace cleared his throat. "Master Yoda, do you really think it's necessary to barge in on Kenobi's mission like this?"

"No choice, we have." Yoda averted his eyes, placing two clawed hands on the end of his gimer stick. "Do this, you must."

After another rebuke from Mace, followed by a newly-sported bruise on the mahogany-colored Jedi's shin, Yoda ushered the two of them into the hangar, prodding the back of Mace's legs every so often to keep him moving.

As they entered the shuttle, Mace turned around to protest once more.

"With all due respect, Master, I do not agree with this," he said quietly.

Yoda smiled. "Agree with anything, you do not."

Qui-Gon barely suppressed a mirthless grin as he watched Windu stalk off to the cockpit, unwilling to allow the troll to gnaw at his self-esteem any longer. Qui-Gon stared meaningfully at Yoda, gratitude radiating from every pore in his body.

"Go now, you will." Yoda waved a hand lightly, sending a small tendril of the Force in his direction as a way of motivation.

"Will you not accompany us, Master?" Qui-Gon asked, knowing Yoda would make a fine contribution to the team.

"Do this alone, you and Master Windu must. Wait for you, I will."

Qui-Gon took a step forward. "I don't know where to look for him."

"Use your feelings, Qui-Gon, and find him you will."

Qui-Gon eyed the troll dubiously, and then closed the door with only slight hesitation.

--

Kayla Vosa sat in silence, knees tucked against her chest as a way of warding of the sudden chills wracking her body. She didn't quite understand the situation as clearly as she would have liked, and it was frustrating. Her new friend, Obi-Wan, was somewhere in the cell – probably still in that frightful position near the wall where she'd last seen him, but she didn't dare touch him again.

Upon her last examination, when night had begun to creep forth, she'd prodded his side lightly, hoping to wake him up. But he didn't move, and when she placed her hand on his chest to shake him, a warm liquid rubbed off onto her hand. She'd made a face, and then wiped it off on her own shirt. After that, she figured it would have been best to let him sleep.

But now, she wasn't so sure. He still hadn't moved, and the room was growing considerably darker. She tried to avoid the realization that something might be wrong, that maybe he was sleeping a little too deeply, but the idea always stuck with her, and it was difficult to evade.

Standing up on wobbly legs, she scuffled towards where she thought his body was. Her foot collided with something hard, and she bent down. "Obi?"

She poked his leg.

"Obi Kenobi?"

He groaned, and she settled into a crouch. "Time to get up," she whispered in a sing-song voice, cocking her head to the side.

No answer. She huffed in slight irritation, standing into an upright position. "You're on the floor," she observed plainly, as if the statement would rouse him immediately.

When no response was given, she grabbed his arm and gave a light tug. "Get up," she stressed.

A whimper escaped the man. Kayla chewed on her lip in confusion.

She trotted to his other side and plopped down on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on his side, trying to roll him towards the wall.

No such luck. She planted her feet into the ground and pushed again, harder this time. He moved about a centimeter, and then limply fell back into his original position. She made another attempt, but the action was useless.

She panted wildly. "You're heavy!" She paused to gulp in some air. "Do you eat full bantha's or somethin'?"

As expected, he didn't answer. She shook her head in dismay, falling onto her back and scooting closer to her unusually cold friend. She tucked herself against his side and wrapped her fist around his forearm, squeezing tightly.

"I'm gonna take a nap, but if you wake up before me, you're in big trouble," she whispered, shutting her eyes in content.

She didn't mean it as an insult, or a threat. She only hoped that her nap would be quick and replenishing, so when she awoke she could try and push him over to the wall, where it was a lot more comfortable.

Sighing softly, she tightened her grip on his arm and drifted off into a light slumber.

--

"Morte is only a few miles away," Mace announced quietly. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

Qui-Gon nodded, tapping his foot impatiently against the metallic floor. He stared out the front windshield at the approaching planet of Morte, a wave of anxiety passing through his body.

The thought of Obi-Wan hurt, even if it were just a small scratch, was devastating. Over ten promising years ago, he had been assigned as the boy's Master, and he made it his solemn duty to protect him – no matter what the costs. And just because he was no longer the boy's mentor, it didn't make his paternal streak lessen any.

What if he's not there, he thought with a sickening twist of his gut. What if he's been taken by some careless monster? What if -

"Calm down," Mace said softly. "I can see you shaking from here." He leaned back in his seat as the auto-pilot was switched on. "We don't know anything yet."

"That's the problem," Qui-Gon muttered shakily. "We don't know anything. He could be dead, for all we know."

"Or," Mace put in. "He could be perfectly fine, dealing with his first mission like a true Knight."

"Either way, I need to see him."

Silence took over, leaving the two Jedi with their own thoughts. Qui-Gon shifted in his chair nervously, despite Mace's previous instruction to calm down.

How could he be calm when his son was in danger? It was a ridiculous instruction.

"I still remember his first day at the Temple," Mace observed quietly. "He was somewhere in his second cycle."

Qui-Gon smiled a little, but offered no contribution to the topic at hand.

Mace continued in remembrance, "Did you know he was the quietest boy in his age group?"

"I figured as much," Qui-Gon answered. "He never was much of a talker, unless a conversation was initiated with him first."

"He wouldn't even look at me when I first saw him. He just stuck his head under a pillow and went to sleep. Right on the floor."

Qui-Gon chuckled dryly. "He had a knack for falling asleep in the oddest of places."

"I'm sure. I once found him conked out in a laundry basket." Mace smirked. "And when I went to wake him up, another toddler poked his head out from a nearby bin and told me to be quiet."

"Getting told off by younglings," Qui-Gon laughed bitterly. "So very uncharacteristic of you, Mace."

"Yeah, well," Mace sighed. "I wasn't about to put them in time out or anything."

"Sentimental too? I've never seen this side of you before."

Mace scoffed humorlessly. "Perhaps the reason for that is every time I see you; you're making my life hell by defying my decisions."

Qui-Gon smiled. "It's been my sworn oath since the day we met."

"Don't remind me," Mace sighed. "Anyway, the other little boy who practically scolded me for being too loud happened to be Garen Muln."

Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "Garen? I had no idea he and Obi-Wan went back that far."

"They were inseparable, clinging to each other in every mischievous undertaking of theirs."

"Enlighten me."

"They slipped away from the crèche Master and raided the kitchens once, eating every last morsel of cookie the Temple chefs had to spare."

Qui-Gon laughed again. "I always thought Obi-Wan to be a guiltless child."

"Oh, he was," Mace said. "Once you set aside the inconvenient catnaps and hyperactive exertions after consuming the Order's supply of baked goods, they were both actually very gentle kids."

"Inconvenient catnaps," Qui-Gon mused. "I assume there's a story behind this, apart from the laundry basket fiasco."

"There is. During one of the Temple gatherings, the ones where every being within the walls are to attend, Obi-Wan and Garen were both in the front row along with the rest of their class. They were about three years old here, I think. But they both fell asleep sitting in their chairs, and simultaneously fell off – still sleeping, and proceeded to snore throughout the rest of the service."

Qui-Gon stifled a laugh. "That's horrible, Mace."

"It sure was, especially considering the fact it happened during my speech. Master Yoda couldn't even control himself."

Qui-Gon smiled, shaking his head in amusement. He suddenly sighed, and slumped in his seat. "I wish I had known him then. Perhaps things would have turned out differently."

Mace's expression softened. "Things worked out between you two in the end. I don't see how knowing him in his early years would have changed anything."

"I wouldn't have nearly denied the one person in my life that made it worth getting out of bed in the morning," Qui-Gon replied. "Even if it were only to drag him out of his own."

Mace didn't say anything after that, and Qui-Gon felt immensely relieved at the silence. They were closing in on Morte and he was still struggling to conjure up an opening statement to execute once they found Obi-Wan. After a year of silence, he wasn't quite sure what could be said to mend the deep rift that had formed between them, if anything.

As the ship entered Morte's atmosphere, a green-colored mist surrounded the tiny vessel like a lingering fog. Tension filled the room.

"This isn't right." Mace's voice was grave. "Bring up the planet's archives."

Qui-Gon obeyed hastily, typing in a few keywords into the control panel at his left. After a brief moment, a screen appeared on the dashboard, flickering due to a faulty connection before presenting the planet's documented events.

"Look under 'Incorporated Enterprise'." Mace instructed, switching off the auto-pilot. "See if there's been any recent contamination to the air supply."

Qui-Gon quickly skimmed the list of chemicals. He shook his head slowly. "There's nothing out of the ordinary. Just a few mixed elements used to create better living conditions."

"Read them off."

Qui-Gon sighed. "R-14 Zaitini and S-72 Lioxide were two infiltrated halogens. There are a few standard alchemical additions as well: two issues of Q-27 Metalaroid synthetics, a small amount of T-02 Raiminent, J-52 Telision, G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate, and an increased measure of D-60 Flioride."

There was a pause.

"Check the G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate." Mace said finally. "I'm not sure if it's been authorized or not."

Qui-Gon entered in a few more keywords, and waited patiently as a small description of the chemical appeared onscreen. "It was added about three weeks ago. And it was authorized," Qui-Gon confirmed, "It was used with the intention of weeding out aggression and calming the population to the extent of peacefulness."

"Looks like it had the opposite effect." Mace whispered quietly, staring out the front windshield with a disturbed expression.

Qui-Gon followed his gaze and recoiled at the sight before him. Countless bodies lay strewn about the ruined fields of the small planet, mangled in the worst possible ways, limbs twisted in awkward positions. The most horrific sight, however, was the blood. The thick, red liquid stained just about every inch of dry soil in view.

Any hopeful thoughts he'd garnered previously vanished quickly, leaving his heart to pound wildly against its ribbed prison. His chest tightened, and he found himself staring at each body, unwillingly searching for a familiar face.

"This is impossible," he whispered after a moment. "A simple chemical addition to the air filters cannot be the cause for such mutilation."

"Not unless the added chemical spawned an unintentional reaction to the planet's native life forms."

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. "Do you think it's safe to go out in….that?" He gestured toward the green-like fog.

"Only one way to find out."

Quietly, the pair of Jedi exited the ship with some hesitance. Qui-Gon trailed after the Council member in silence as they descended down the entrance ramp.

They both stopped in their tracks, concentrating on the air around them. It was thick, almost humid, and held the putrid stench of death and destruction. A light tingling sensation filled Qui-Gon's nose, and he suddenly felt lightheaded.

"We should be safe," Mace muttered. "Just as long as we get out of here quickly."

They treaded the uneven earth carefully, stepping over bodies when there was no other passage, and listening for any hint of movement aside from their own.

Qui-Gon noted dolefully that most of the buildings were in shambles. Not one structure remained in its normal, replete position, save for a few government constructions that had been spared for reasons unknown.

The steady rhythm of footsteps ceased as they came to a halt before a large dwelling, roughly the size of the Jedi Temple.

"If he's alive, Obi-Wan should be in here," Mace said quietly. "This is the last place we heard from him."

Qui-Gon fiddled with the lightsaber in his hand, rubbing his thumb absently against the metallic hilt. "What if he's not here?"

Mace paused. "Then I don't know what to tell you."

Then he damn well better be in there,. Qui-Gon thought stubbornly.

The doors opened with ease and without restriction. It made Qui-Gon wonder if something more loathsome was amiss. A building holding such authority warranted security, but there wasn't even a trace of human life within the small admission passage.

"The air is getting thicker," he observed. "Thicker than outside, I mean."

Mace shook his head. "It's not the air. It's the Force."

Qui-Gon frowned. "I don't understand."

"The damage to the life on this planet is severe, there's been so much destruction, the Force is denying existence."

"That doesn't make sense. The Force doesn't just abandon a population like that. Unless -"

"Unless a larger work of influence is at hand here," Mace finished grimly.

Qui-Gon cringed, not wanting to imagine the endless possibilities that would cause the Force to just suddenly disappear. He still refused to believe it, even as he felt the perpetual energy he'd relied on since boyhood start to fade until it was nearly nonexistent.

The sound that followed his distant thoughts was so clear, so loud, that even though Qui-Gon knew it was in a different part of the building, it seemed as if it was right there next to him. It was like a woman wailing in grief, weeping over a loved one, the piercing scream rising, wavering, and then falling off into a hissing sob.

Something crashed and echoed throughout one of the many corridors surrounding the room where the two Jedi presently stood in.

The screech tore through the once-calm atmosphere again, more insistent this time, edged with anger. Another voice joined in with the clamorous shriek, higher pitched than the first, and a little sharper.

Qui-Gon squeezed the lightsaber in his palm tightly, listening to the frantic snarls of whatever was coming for them. His heart pounded wildly.

Another crash followed by a more intense, reverberating bellow shot through the air. He looked around the room desperately, searching for the source of the inhuman sound. No insight was provided for him, until a large shadow loomed over him before sending his large body sailing to the metallic floor.

Qui-Gon could hear a cry of alarm in Mace's direction, but his own concentration was set on the dark figure clawing at his torso. He ignited his lightsaber and gave it a twirl. The beast's leg fell to the floor with a sickening thud.

He gasped, allowing Mace to drag him to his feet quickly. The creature that had tackled him was female, and like nothing he had ever seen before. Tangled, matted, and dark, frizzy hair protruded from her head in clumps. Her skin was pale, almost translucent as the blue veins beneath her flesh pulsed in sync with her erratic heartbeat. Her eyes held no depth, and no color. Just solid black, seemingly staring at nothing, but full of hatred and despite. She growled numerous threats in her own, demonic tongue, disfigured teeth sliding out from behind red-hued lips.

She twisted on the ground, the loss of her leg giving her no desire to attack now that her prey held an obviously more-lethal weapon.

Mace bent down, extending his right hand to try and soothe the wild female. She snapped at his fingers, and he withdrew quickly, taking a few precarious steps back.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, raising his voice in order to be heard above the creature's desolate cries.

The look on Mace's face was one of pure disgust. "I don't know."

Above the pitiful, agonizing shrieks of the defenseless woman, more screeching reached their ears. Qui-Gon and Mace ignited their sabers simultaneously, the green and purple tints casting an eerie glow on the female's face. She hissed in response.

The two Jedi looked at each other. Qui-Gon tried to say something, but the woman at his feet wailed sharply, drowning out his voice.

He went to repeat himself, louder this time, but the woman outscreamed him in length and volume. Qui-Gon winced as the shrill cry intensified tenfold within seconds, and he lightly kicked at the woman's groping fingers as she tried to grab onto his feet.

Mace began to trot towards one of the hallways, and Qui-Gon followed without much reluctance, leaving the crippled woman to suffer in her own agony. As they entered the porcelain foyer, the woman's howling was soon accompanied with several other, new voices.

The Jedi turned, eyes widening at the sight of four other beasts standing at her side, the lot of them varying in size and shape. Without a moment's hesitation, the two of them took off in a full-fledged run, cloaks billowing out behind them as they turned corners quicker than they should have.

Just as they were about to reach the main hall, a creature dropped down in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. Before Qui-Gon could take the time to figure out if it was male or female, the monster was charging forward and his lightsaber automatically flew into an upward stroke, slicing the beast in half.

Not taking the time to study their latest attacker, the pair rounded the last corner and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the main hall.

Qui-Gon was pretty sure his jaw was somewhere on the floor at that moment. The room had once been fit for a king, with lavish furniture and polished, marble walls. But now, the large vacated space was anything but that. Bodies upon bodies littered the ground, half of them resembling the creatures they'd just run into earlier, while the other half held every human feature possible – from the glossy, colored irises to the pallid tinge of their skin.

Mace took the first step into the room, bewilderment rolling off the Councilor in heavy waves. Qui-Gon followed at his own pace, heart hammering in his chest as he searched each face for some spark of familiarity. He made his way to the chrome desk on the other side of the room, stepping over countless bodies in the process.

"Damn it," Mace growled uncharacteristically, bending over to inspect one of the bodies.

Qui-Gon approached him. "What's wrong?"

Mace's expression was one of concern. He shook his head slightly, dark eyes narrowed in concentration. "It's Setzer Vosa."

Qui-Gon looked down at the still form. "You know him?"

"Not personally," Mace answered. "He was in charge here. In the last report Obi-Wan sent us, he said Vosa wasn't cooperating with his demands to end the chaos."

"I suppose the chaos ended him instead," Qui-Gon muttered, turning away from the gruesome sight at his feet.

"Let's hope Obi-Wan hasn't suffered the same fate," Mace said as he stood swiftly.

Qui-Gon managed to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to anger his long-time friend by uttering a bitter retort of denial. He slowly walked along the edges of the room, turning away when entrails were visible and suppressing a growl when he found no sign of his former Padawan. Part of him was happy with his lack of evidence, while another part screamed for some sort of clue.

The latter proved to be more dominant as Mace stepped up behind him, placing a hand on his forearm. Qui-Gon faced the elder Jedi, whose expression was unreadable. Before Qui-Gon could find his voice, something was placed in his hand. He looked down, and felt his knees buckle at the sight.

It was his lightsaber – his lightsaber. The cylindrical construction rested firmly in his palm,

A foreign curse escaped his lips, and he strode towards the exit with confidence, not bothering to see if Mace was following, and then peered around the corner to be sure there was no danger waiting for them.

Mace was close behind him. "Search your feelings. The Force is nearly extinct here; you'll have to rely on natural instinct."

Qui-Gon nodded, taking a few cautious steps into the hallway. There was great turmoil within him; fear, worry, hatred, and a spark of curiosity as he listened to the distant wails of the creatures.

His heart sunk even further. If Obi-Wan had witnessed the massacre that took place in the main hall, the boy would surely be scarred. His inner paternal motive sprung forth suddenly, giving him the strength he needed to keep searching.

"This place is huge," Qui-Gon whispered. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Trust yourself," Mace whispered back. "I'd help if I could, but I'm afraid my connection with Obi-Wan has been shaken as of late. I haven't had a real conversation with him since the aftermath on Naboo."

Qui-Gon frowned, stepping over a slab of concrete as he rounded a corner. "You talked on Naboo? I wasn't aware of this."

"Probably because you were too busy fiddling with the Chosen One." Mace's voice was soft and barely accusing, but Qui-Gon could feel the heat on his face nonetheless.

"I wasn't abandoning Obi-Wan, even if it seemed like it. I would never hurt him."

"Yet you shoved him out of the way to make room for your new charge. You barely even spoke at his Knighting Ceremony."

"We argued, actually." Qui-Gon reminded bitterly. "He was bent on telling me how dangerous Anakin was, and how he felt about my training of him. It wasn't pretty."

"Did you ever consider that there was some truth to his words?"

"Where is this coming from, Mace? Do you think I haven't beaten myself up over this already? If I could go back and change things, I would, but I don't even know if that would make a difference."

Mace sighed. "I'm sorry, but Obi-Wan is a find Jedi, and he's proved himself worthy more times than I can count. He's made a great addition to the Order, but it's difficult to watch him dissipate like he has been lately. His confidence has almost been shot."

Qui-Gon shook his head, rounding another corner. "I'm proud of the person he's become, but rubbing my mistakes in my face isn't going to help the situation."

"Once again, I apologize, but if he's to join the Council one day, it would help if he had a bit more certainty about his decisions."

Qui-Gon froze then, turning to face the other Jedi with a shocked expression. "You're going to put him on the Council?"

Mace continued walking, not even pausing to meet his gaze. "We've talked about it, even though it is a bit early to discuss such things. There are no guarantees, however. He would make a subtle addition, but only time will tell. He isn't yet old enough."

Qui-Gon beamed, and trailed after Windu. "That's an honor, and I'm sure Obi-Wan will think the same. I'm very proud of him."

"As am I," Mace replied. "I think he's worthy of the promotion, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"You need to make things right, Qui-Gon. He's not okay. Even if he says differently, you must get him through both past and present disputes. Otherwise his charisma and self-esteem will go downhill, and his responsibilities as a Jedi will follow. Without defiance or certainty, his performance during missions may falter."

They entered another hallway, one that was slightly more polished than the last. Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. "I never wanted to do this to him."

"But you did," Mace quipped. "And it's not permanent, so don't go thinking what you've done is absolute. There's still time for change. I know I'm being harsh, but this all comes from my concern for the both of you. I don't want to see one of the Order's finest teams become disquieted hermits."

"Disquieted hermits?" Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Your choice of words doesn't comfort me."

"Well, if you continue this same path, you'll both end up on some dreadful planet for your retirement with only each other's company."

Qui-Gon smirked. "I wouldn't mind that."

They passed another entrance by a few feet, but Qui-Gon was suddenly jolted from his past-reverie and thrust back into reality. He backtracked a few paces and stood in front of a sealed entrance. A familiar presence radiated from behind that closed door, and his heart skipped nearly two beats at his luck.

"Mace!" He cried suddenly, slamming his fist into the control panel numerous times. "He's in here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he tried the panel again. "The door's stuck."

"Here," Mace nudged him out of the way, unclipping his saber from his belt. With a downward slash, the operative hindrance fell to the floor with a hiss, loose wires protruding from the spot where it had been.

"Nice one," Qui-Gon slid the door open manually.

"I do what I can."

They both squeezed through the door at once, blinking to adjust their eyes in the sudden darkness. Qui-Gon flipped a switch, and a dingy light flickered on. He frowned.

The room was empty.

"Damn it," Qui-Gon hissed, walking around the tight space angrily. "He's here, Mace. I can feel it. He's here…"

Mace suddenly lowered himself to the floor, peering under the furniture carefully.

Qui-Gon fell silent and followed Mace's lead, sliding down onto his hands and knees to stare underneath the furnishings. He saw nothing aside from dust mites and garbage.

"There's nothing," Qui-Gon said, agitated. "Perhaps we're in the wrong room."

"Yes. We are." Mace confirmed, standing up. He walked over to a datapad-shelf and pushed it out of the way.

The tall piece of furniture obscured Qui-Gon's sight of the other Jedi, and he questioned Mace's actions hesitantly. "What are you doing?"

"There's a door here."

Qui-Gon was at Mace's side in an instant. Below their feet was a square, trapdoor in the metallic floor – made out of wood.

Mace kicked his foot against it. "It's unlocked." Wedging his foot under the handle, Mace flipped the door open. The top of it clattered to the ground noisily.

Qui-Gon growled. "There's no ladder, or any way of getting down."

"Sure there is," Mace said, and then proceeded to jump down the tiny shaft.

Qui-Gon's jaw dropped, and it was a long while before he heard his friend land on the ground below. "Is it safe?" He called out, straining his ears.

Mace's voice was muffled. "Yeah. Can't see a damn thing, though." A string of muffled curses. "Just watch your step when you land. The terrain is rough."

Qui-Gon inhaled sharply and plunged down into the dark passage. The air rustled through his clothing and hair. He landed a little awkwardly, but felt a hand on his shoulder to help keep his balance. It was Mace.

"Thanks," Qui-Gon mumbled.

Mace nodded, or at least, it looked like Mace had nodded. The room was dark, and only a faint outline of shadows was visible. Qui-Gon looked around. "I can't see anything."

"Must I repeat my earlier statement?"

Qui-Gon huffed, and took a step forward. "I rather you didn't."

"Then stop complaining about your lack of sight." Mace admonished. "Start using your other senses like the damn Jedi you are."

Now who needs to calm down? Qui-Gon though briskly, stretching out with his feelings toward the darkened room as previously instructed.

It took longer than necessary, considering the circumstances, but the brilliant presence of Obi-Wan suddenly flared in his mind, churning and filling him to the core with happiness.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon called out softly, taking a few more steps forward.

A grunt was the only response, and it was feminine. Qui-Gon furrowed his brow and tightened his grip on the hilt of his lightsaber. If it was one of those damn creatures….

A thought suddenly came to him. He pressed the small, red button, and a green hue suddenly filled the room. It was a promising light source and would not extinguish unless prompted to. He smiled a little.

Qui-Gon squinted, and saw two huddled forms in the middle of the floor, huddled together. His breath hitched, and he took off in a dead sprint towards the two figures.

As he neared the two bodies, he saw the familiar face of Obi-Wan, relaxed in unconsciousness, yet deeply disturbed by something unseen. He collapsed to his knees and reached out, only to have his hand smacked by a much smaller one.

"Don't do that," a tiny voice chirped.

Qui-Gon blinked and felt Mace kneel down beside him. It was a little girl, at least four years of age, if that, with dark curls surrounding her round face. She glared up at both of them, sitting cross-legged in front of Obi-Wan, arms folded over her chest.

"Hello, young one," Mace said in the calmest voice possible, something Qui-Gon wouldn't have been able to master even if he tried. His concentration was completely focused on Obi-Wan.

The little girl didn't answer. She just simply glared, trying to look as menacing as possible.

"What's your name?" Mace asked.

The girl pursed her lips, staring at the strangers oddly. "Kayla Vosa."

Qui-Gon shared a baffled expression with Mace. It was Setzer's daughter.

Mace smiled genuinely, overcoming his shock at the new information. "Kayla, do you know Obi-Wan?"

Kayla turned around to look at the limp Jedi behind her, and then stared at Mace, her expression a little less angry. "Uh-huh."

"Will you let us look at him?"

"Nuh-uh." Kayla pressed her back against Obi-Wan's leg. "I don't want you to."

"We need to help him." Qui-Gon interjected, finally finding his voice.

Kayla peered at Qui-Gon closely. Slowly, she stood, tiny hands poking at his shoulder-length hair. "Your hair's kinda like his, I think." She looked over at Mace. "You don't have hair."

Mace frowned, and Qui-Gon would have laughed, if only the situation had been different.

Kayla plopped back down on the floor, a cloud of dust filling the air around her. When it cleared, she looked at Qui-Gon seriously. "Are you his daddy?"

Qui-Gon looked at the unconscious Knight at his feet, only a mere foot away. "Yes."

Kayla smiled brightly. "You are?" She stared at him hopefully.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes. I am."

The girl beamed proudly, and bounced on the floor to emphasize her excitement. "So you're gonna take him home?"

Qui-Gon nodded again.

She scooted out of the way. "You can have him then, but don't touch his chest, 'cause I don't think he liked it when I did it earlier…"

Qui-Gon looked over at Mace, who nodded once in confirmation.

Mace plucked the little girl from the floor and held her. "Hold on tight, young one."

Kayla wrapped her arms around the man's neck and clung for dear life. She peeked over his shoulder and looked at the ground. "You're really tall." She buried her face in Mace's shoulder.

Mace whispered to Qui-Gon, "I'm going to get her upstairs. Take care of Obi-Wan. I'll be waiting."

Qui-Gon nodded numbly, and watched as Mace jumped gracefully back up the shaft. A tiny squeal was emitted from Kayla in the process.

He then focused his concentration on Obi-Wan. He adjusted his ignited saber, and held it out to achieve a better examination of the Knight.

Qui-Gon felt his stomach churn at the sight.

Blood caked the younger Jedi's torso, and a gaping hole shone distinctly on his chest. Qui-Gon scrambled closer to his former student, and shook him gently.

"Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan, can you hear me?"

No answer. Qui-Gon's hands began to shake as he lifted the ex-Padawan from the floor. Obi-Wan whimpered unconsciously at the sudden movement. Qui-Gon whispered a few soothing words to calm him down.

It worked, and Qui-Gon eventually found himself carrying the young Knight in his arms, the ginger head resting snugly against the broad shoulder.

With a quick pull of the Force, Qui-Gon leapt upwards and planted his feet on the metallic floor upstairs. He saw Mace standing a few feet away, Kayla situated in his arms.

Once Mace caught sight of Obi-Wan's condition, his eyes widened, and he ushered Qui-Gon out of the room first, and then followed.

A terrifying screech echoed around them. Kayla and Obi-Wan both gave the same reaction, a tiny cringe and an almost inaudible whimper. Both of the elder Jedi fastened their holds on the younger ones.

They rushed down the hallway, turning right and left quicker than thought possible, considering the weight they were now carrying along with them. Inhuman wails followed them along each corridor, voicing their distaste of the situation quite loudly.

As they were nearing the building's main exit, three creatures darted in front of them. Two male and one female, each as grotesque and disfigured as the last, if not more.

Mace didn't even bother abiding to the rule where a Jedi is not to attack a weaponless enemy. With one singular motion, he decapitated the creatures within seconds, their heads rolling off to the side.

"Not very formal of you, Windu." Qui-Gon admonished lightly, stepping over the crumpled bodies.

"Screw formalities," Mace growled, adjusting Kayla in his grip. "When you've got a mutilated Knight and a child in your arms, rules change."

Mutilated. Qui-Gon felt his heart sink at the single utterance. He glanced down at Obi-Wan, and then looked up quickly, his heart breaking at the sight.

Stepping out of the building, the distant screams fading behind them, both Jedi could feel the Force gradually returning to their deprived bodies as they neared the ship. Qui-Gon sighed in relief, grateful that with the Force's reestablishment, he could put Obi-Wan into a healing trance.

The ship was exactly as they'd left it, idling and ready to take off. Once they entered the small vessel, Mace set Kayla down on the floor and slid into the piloting chair, typing in a few commands quickly. Qui-Gon proceeded to the back, laying Obi-Wan down gently on one of the beds. Kayla watched from a distance.

"What's all that red stuff?"

Qui-Gon paused. "Why don't you stay with Mace? Ask him to show you how to operate the ship."

Kayla's eyes widened. "I could do that?"

"With his guidance, yes."

She turned to leave, but hesitated. "He's the bald guy, right?"

Qui-Gon nodded, smiling a little.

Kayla grinned and took off running. After a moment, Qui-Gon could hear her voice chirping away at Mace.

Qui-Gon settled himself at the foot of the bed, concentrating on Obi-Wan's wounds and doing his best to heal them with the renewed Force. Obi-Wan thrashed a little, groaning as the movement aggravated his chest wound.

Qui-Gon placed a hand on the Knight's shoulder. "You're okay," he whispered. "You're okay."

To be continued...

AN: I don't care what I've said in previous chapters. This was the toughest piece to write. I didn't mean to make it so long, but my hands just kept typing…This was also kind of rushed, but I really wanted to get this out before you guys forgot about the fic completely.

Try to remember the Obi-Wan/Garen relationship I mentioned, as well as the comment about Obi and Qui becoming hermits.

Also, before I forget, the G-23 Paxilon Hydrochlorate was totally stolen from Serenity. :)