It was only after rolling off the bunk, and then continuing to roll until he hit the far wall, that Obi-Wan finally regained consciousness. The first thing he felt was searing pain as his legs slammed into the wall.
The second thing he felt was panic. It was completely dark. For a long moment, he thought he was still trapped in the mine. It was then that a warm, strong hand touched his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden contact, but relaxed immediately when he realized it meant he wasn't alone. The other person's presence was soothing, familiar.
"Master?" he managed to ask. His voice did not sound the way he thought it should. Dry and scratchy, the word tore its way from his lips. It was only then that he realized how thirsty he was.
"Shh, rest now," replied a familiar voice. Obi-Wan's heart leapt at the sound of his Master's voice. Oh please, he thought, please don't let this be a dream!
He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but his Master's firm hand pushed him back down.
"What's going on?" Obi-Wan asked. He felt something cool and wet being pressed to his lips.
"Drink," Qui-Gon ordered. The boy did as he was told, sighing happily as the water soothed his poor, dry throat.
There was a sharp, metallic crash and the room shifted violently. "We're being boarded," Qui-Gon whispered. "Our power cut out as the ship approached."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan murmured with a humorless chuckle. He forced his way up to a sitting position, cringing as he put pressure on his legs. For a split second, he was still buried in the rubble of the mine. He inhaled sharply as visions of rocks falling all around him danced in his head. Qui-Gon put his arm behind Obi-Wan's back to steady him. The touch was soothing. It kept him grounded firmly in reality.
The lights came back on quite suddenly, causing both men to blink rapidly as their eyes tried to adjust. That comforting arm at his back was gone as Obi-Wan's Master leapt to his feet, working to hide Obi-Wan as best he could with his robe.
Obi-Wan heard the hatch open, heard many footsteps approaching, heard blaster fire…
In an instant, he heard the hum of his Master's lightsaber as it ignited and deflected the shot. No words had been said, no information offered forth by either party. Their captors were not interested in words, clearly. Obi-Wan wished he could help his Master, but his legs were positively useless.
He fumbled for his lightsaber, only to find it was not hanging from it belt where it should've been.
"Hold your fire," a woman said, her voice smooth and venomous. When the blaster fire did not immediately cease, her tone became far more biting. "I said hold your fire, you idiots!"
A single set of footsteps approached the Jedi, and Qui-Gon positioned himself even more protectively in front of his Padawan. He did not deactivate his 'saber.
"How delightful," the woman said in a monotone drawl. "I had begun to question whether the Jedi ever left their gilded cage on Coruscant. My Master shall be pleased."
Qui-Gon said nothing.
"The strong, silent type, hmm? No matter. We outnumber you. With a single command, I can have you destroyed." Obi-Wan heard the cocking of many blasters.
-Master, I have a bad feeling about this,- he said through their Force bond. Qui-Gon didn't reply.
"Put down your weapon or I'll have you both destroyed. My Master cares not whether you arrive alive or dead. I am paid either way, Jedi scum."
Qui-Gon considered his options, then sighed and deactivated his lightsaber. He had barely set the weapon on the floor when two men came forward and restrained him, binding his hands out in front of him. Two more men came forward and roughly forced Obi-Wan to his feet.
He cried out as they tried to put weight on his badly broken legs.
"He is badly injured," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan could hear concern in his voice. "Please, he cannot walk."
The Padawan's breath caught in his throat as he felt a blaster being held to his temple.
"We shall not carry him while he breathes," the woman replied. It was Obi-Wan's first real glimpse of the woman as she stepped closer to him. She stood nearly as tall as him with wide, muscular shoulders. Her hair was held back neatly in a slick bun at the base of her skull. Her eyes were black, soulless.
She looked him in the eye as she approached. "I've never seen a Force-sensitive die before. This shall be a delight."
"Wait!" Qui-Gon begged. "Wait, please— I'll carry him. I can carry him. He will heal, he is strong in the Force. If your Master is interested in Force-sensitives, your Master will be disappointed to only see him in death."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, to ready himself for death. The blaster was pulled away from his temple after what seemed like an eternity, and he was thrown toward Qui-Gon. He was hardly able to catch himself before landing face-down at his Master's feet.
"Carry him, then," the woman said. She turned her attention to her men. "Load them in the cargo hold. Master doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Qui-Gon stepped back and dropped to his knees, his arms useless to help his Padawan. "Climb onto my back, Obi-Wan," he whispered. Obi-Wan struggled, but did as he was told.
Once Qui-Gon was certain that Obi-Wan's grip was secure, he slowly stood back up. He wished he could use his hands to provide extra support, but he found that if he moved fairly slowly Obi-Wan would not slip.