-Qui-Gon.- He heard his name as though it had been spoken by one of the delegates he was sitting with at the long conference table. He waited for his Padawan to continue, but he heard nothing further. As much as he wanted to know what was going on with his Padawan, he didn't have the time or the energy to focus on anything but the task at hand. Neither the Trade Federation nor the independent traders would budge on any of their demands. Negotiations were going nowhere.
He was beginning to suspect that the negotiations, the stalled negotiations, were nothing more than a distraction. From what, he couldn't say. Something dark loomed on the horizon, creeping ever closer like black tendrils of smoke. His attentions were certainly being spread too thin for his own comfort. He hoped that didn't present as weakness on his surface.
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Obi-Wan stumbled through the tunnel in a stupor, Milna Tarr's blood spatter bright red against the dirty tan of his tunic and pants. He'd never seen someone die so suddenly, so violently before. There was nothing that could've been done to stop it, nothing…
Except there was. He realized, horrified, that her death had been caused by his own carelessness. Looking down at his hands he realized they were the hands of a murderer. If I hadn't dropped that boulder— He didn't get to finish that thought as one last shuddering jolt ripped through the mine as the tunnel crumbled around him, burying him completely.
He woke several hours later in a stupor, his entire body tingling in a strange, unpleasant way. As he tried to blink away the darkness, he realized that something was terribly wrong.
As the tingling slowly gave way to immense pressure and pain, Obi-Wan remembered where exactly he was. A small yelp escaped his throat before he managed to swallow his fear. Fear would be of no help to him. Fear would only cause him to panic, and panicking would do him no good. Panicking would merely cause him to deplete his already thin air supply even more quickly.
He exhaled deeply as he reached out with the Force, looking for any opening that might lead to freedom, any weak points in the rubble that entombed him. Every dead end he sensed cracked away at the mental barrier he kept between himself and his fear.
No way out, he thought, his eyes widening as he realized just how trapped he really was. It could be weeks before any rescue party managed to reach him, and that was if anyone from the surface even bothered to try at this point. The trapped miners were as good as dead now.
As was Obi-Wan.
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Systems away, Qui-Gon Jinn fell to his knees as the Force-ripple from the mine collapse hit him. He felt several lives extinguish all at once and for a few terrifying minutes believed his Padawan to be among those dead.
The negotiations weren't over, would likely never be over at their current pace, but Qui-Gon no longer cared. The Council could do what they liked to him when he returned to Coruscant. The faint, faraway sensation of his Padawan trapped and alone was all he needed to justify abandoning his mission.
He did not even pause to explain himself to those he was there to assist. As soon as he could trust his legs to hold his weight once more, he took off running for the landing pad that held his ship. Nothing mattered more to him than ensuring that his Padawan did not die cold and alone in a collapsed mine tunnel. There was no punishment the Council could dole out that would be worse than losing Obi-Wan forever.
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Obi-Wan spent much of his time meditating and trying to conserve his strength and his air supply. If he focused hard enough he found he was able to relieve the pressure on his legs, if only a little. The rubble that weighed down on him was packed too tightly for him to even begin to move it in a way that would allow him an escape route, not that it mattered. His legs were broken. Badly. He wouldn't be able to move from that spot even if there was somewhere he could go.
He fought every swell of panic with every ounce of strength he could spare. Deep in his chest he could feel it trying to spread, trying so hard to fill him. Panic would only mean suffering until death. If he managed to stay very still and continue meditating, he figured he might not even realize it when finally his body gave out and he was one with the Force.
As time dragged on, he began to wonder if his body would ever be found. Would they alert the Temple when they found the remains of a Jedi?
Was Qui-Gon aware of what had happened?
Obi-Wan felt a tightness in his chest similar to the one that had accompanied him since he'd debarked the ship following close behind Qui-Gon. How stupid have I been, he thought, tears stinging his eyes. A Jedi mustn't jump to conclusions. How many times has Qui-Gon tried to get that into my head?
There was a not-so-distant rumbling as the dirt and debris that bore down on him shifted, pinning him more painfully as it did. He fought very hard not to scream.
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By the time Qui-Gon arrived on Bandomeer once more, it had been more than fifteen hours since the cave-in that had trapped his Padawan somewhere in the depths of the mine. He had barely powered down the ship's engine before he was already down on the landing platform and moving quickly toward the mine.
Every step he took brought him closer to his Padawan. With every step he could feel Obi-Wan's presence growing stronger, more tangible, but he could also feel how much pain the boy was in.
He's running out of time, he thought, his heart falling as he approached the mineshaft that would lead to the cave-in that threatened to claim Obi-Wan Kenobi's life.
