DISCLAIMER: *pushes Gollum into Mount Doom and snatches the Ring* Finally! I now own everything! Even you, the reader! My One Ring of Unlimited Copyright Privileges has finally been recovered, and- *Legolas shoots the Ring out of my hand and steals it* What the... Damn Elf!
Legolas owns Star Wars. And Lord of the Rings. And you readers. *sighs*
I marvel that I'm still alive after that cliffie. Thank you for not sending hitmen after me! And in answer to your questions... No, I do not feel any guilt for driving you guys mad. Yes, I love Obi-torture, although reader-torture is a close follow-up. Will Obi and Zara die? *evil laugh* You'll see!
************
The guard smirked and pulled the trigger...
But the shot went wild as the guard was suddenly pushed by an invisible force. Instead of the bolt dealing Obi-Wan a fatal wound to his head, the bolt struck him in the left shoulder. Obi-Wan cried out in pain as the bolt buried itself in the muscle surrounding the bone, setting off a whole new wave of agony.
At least he couldn't feel the pain of his broken arm anymore.
Through tears of pain, he saw the guard attempt to get back up, only to be struck back down. Glancing to the side, he saw Qui-Gon running up, his left hand extended towards the guard to keep him down, the right holding his ignited lightsabre. Obi-Wan tried to call out his Master's name, but only mustered a groan.
The soldier growled and got back up, intending to charge Qui-Gon. But he didn't get more than a step or two before he fell to the green blade. Obi-Wan moaned again as the guard's body fell across his legs, blackness swarming his vision.
He was aware of Qui-Gon kneeling beside him as he teetered on the verge of unconsciousness. A large hand cradled Obi-Wan's head, as the big Master's voice called his name. With a click, the metal collar fell off of Obi-Wan's neck, opening him to the Force. However, he was too weak to use that power. Instead, it flowed through him without constraint, carrying a wave of Qui-Gon's worry. Obi-Wan felt that he was supposed to reassure his Master, but couldn't find the strength to do anything.
Another guard came up, aiming a blaster at the oblivious Qui-Gon. However, a second green blade sliced through the air, ending the man's life. Obi-Wan watched, perplexed, as a tall, grey-haired man took up a defensive position in front of himself and his Master. The Count? What's he doing? Is he a Jedi?
"It's all right, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's was speaking, his voice sounded choked, tears building in the Jedi's eyes. "You're safe now. I've got you, I've-"
A roar echoed through the room as the sounds of multiple blasters fired. Qui-Gon jerked his head up. "Cin!"
What? What's happening to Master Drallig? Where's Zara? Obi-Wan began to panic, sensing his Master's sudden fear. His throat constricted, and his world went black as he gave in to the blessed realm of unconsciousness.
************
Stubborn though Gorig may have been, even he was pressed to swiftly retreat before the enraged Jedi. Leaving the girl crumpled on the floor, he backed behind his guards as they moved to protect him from her Master's wrath.
Grabbing one soldier's arm, he growled, "Get Jabba onto the ship, now!"
The guard nodded and raced off as his comrades covered him, preventing the invading Jedi from pursuing him. Luckily for him, most of the Jedi seemed most concerned with rescuing the prisoners. The one who had initially charged Gorig was now kneeling beside the girl, checking for her vital signs. Gorig allowed himself a smirk; even if the Jedi did manage to get off-planet, unless they had a waiting bacta tank and Healing staff in their ship, there would be no way for the girl to survive all the way back to Coruscant.
A green lightsabre, wielded by a red-haired female Master, swung dangerously near the retreating guards. One man screamed and fell, clutching the stump that used to be his right hand. His blaster skidded away on the concrete floor until it came to a rest near Gorig. The Hutt picked up the weapon, prepared to fire on the first Jedi to get near him.
He glanced at the girl and the vengeful Master again. He looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place the Jedi scum's face...
Gorig heard the other female Jedi speak to the Master. "Master Drallig! We need to get her out of here!"
Drallig... Drallig...Drallig! Gorig's beady eyes narrowed. He now knew where he'd seen that Jedi before: on Nal Hutta, standing over his father's corpse.
With a roar, Gorig aimed the blaster and fired at Drallig's head, feeling a new degree of satisfaction as the man looked up sharply, sudden alarm in his face. Finally, revenge for his father's murder all those years ago! Torturing the man's precious apprentice had been enjoyable, but this would be more suitable for vengeance...
The Jedi woman moved her lightsabre, the blue blade catching the blaster bolt and sending it back-
-into Gorig's heart.
************
It was as if everyone in the room were moving in slow motion. Cin watched, wide-eyed, as the Hutt that had attempted to kill him slowly fell over, a lethal burn mark over his heart from his own blaster. In front of Cin, Aerdna's lightsabre was shaking as the Knight registered what she'd just done.
The guards watched their leader fall, dead, before suddenly acting. Many fled the room, presumably to a spacecraft to flee. The rest remained in the room, shooting at the Jedi with a suicidal vengeance, as though desperate to kill as many as they could before their own deaths.
A whine of engines outside signalled the arrival of another spacecraft. Moments later, Kit Fisto ran in, lightsabre out and ignited. That was enough encouragement for most of the surviving soldiers to flee. Some of them evidently still remembered Kit as the one who had killed Korra.
"We need to get out of here, now!" shouted Kit. "Let's go!"
Snapped out of his daze, Cin bent and carefully gathered Zara's battered body into his arms, trusting Aerdna to guard him against any other attempts by the soldiers to kill him. He wasn't worried about himself; his Padawan held his attention. She was unconscious, for which Cin was grateful, otherwise the pain from her assorted injuries would have been too much for her to stand. Glancing to the side, he could see Qui-Gon picking Obi-Wan up and running for the exit. Dooku remained near his former Padawan, guarding him from any vengeful guards.
Trying to keep his stride smooth so as not to aggravate anymore of Zara's wounds than he needed to, Cin fled the battle, following Kit as the alien led his comrades through the warehouse to the ship, and freedom.
Cin winced as he stepped out into the relatively bright interior of the Jedi ship, faltering in his steps for a brief moment as his eyes adjusted from the darkness of the warehouse. He quickly laid Zara on a sleep couch, aware of Qui-Gon positioning Obi-Wan on another couch as Kit ran to the cockpit. Mace was already rooting in the ship's supplies for medical equipment as Aerdna ran into the ship, holding her bleeding arm close to her side. As he ran in, Dooku turned to the control panel for the door, barely waiting for Clee to get inside before sealing the Jedi inside the ship.
The vessel shuddered before rising, much quicker than normal for a standard takeoff. Cin didn't notice it though, as he took stock of Zara's injuries. Her cheekbone appeared to be broken, and bruising was appearing around her eye. Gently moving the rags that used to be her tunic to the side, Cin hissed as he saw the various cuts that decorated her abdomen. She looked like she hadn't eaten in days- her obviously broken ribs could easily be counted under her tunic.
Clee knelt beside Cin, he face paling. "Oh, Force..."
Cin fought down the nausea swelling in his gut at the sight of his abused Padawan. "How bad is Obi-Wan?" He needed to know.
Clee glanced over at the boy, who was already being tended to by Qui-Gon and Dooku. "He was shot in the shoulder, and his arm's broken. Aside from that, he looks like he has the same injuries as Zara, for the most part."
Cin nodded. "Where's Mace with those supplies?" He lifted Zara's arm, frowning at some strange scarring on her wrists. What had caused that? It looked like a cross between the chafing of manacles and attempted electrocution.
"Here." Mace handed Clee some bacta, antibiotics, and bandages. "That's all I could find in there." He turned to Dooku, handing the older Master the rest of the supplies.
"We'll make it work," assured Clee, carefully dripping limited amounts of bacta into the worst of Zara's wounds. "However, they need to get to a healer now."
Mace nodded. "There are no Republic-friendly planets near here. Our best bet will be to get to Coruscant and hope the Force will work a miracle."
Cin nodded absently, wrapping a bandage around the deep gash that Clee had just administered bacta to. It was a fight for the Master to keep from being violently sick upon seeing how badly his Padawan was hurt.
It seemed like an eternity before he and Clee sat up, wearily surveying their handiwork. Zara didn't look any better, although no one on the ship could do anything about that. The bacta had just lasted long enough to be applied to the worst of Zara's wounds before running out. The rest of the cuts and bruises were simply bandaged. Obi-Wan was no better. Aerdna had left the bacta for the Padawans, merely wrapping a bandage around the wound on her arm. "A bolt grazed me," she had explained, as she carefully dabbed at the blood staining her tunic.
Clee stood up. "I need to get cleaned up, as do you." She left for the refresher as Cin took a glance at his hands.
They were red and caked in blood. Zara's blood.
He lost his battle with the nausea and just barely made it to a waste bin before throwing up the remnants of his last meal. He was vaguely aware of Mace soothingly rubbing his back, and eventually pulling him up and into the 'fresher. Unconsciously, he tried to go back to his apprentice, but his friend refused to let him back. "Get cleaned up, Cin." Mace stood firm in the doorway. "I'll watch Zara for you. But you need to wash up."
Knowing when he'd lost a battle, Cin shut the 'fresher door and started washing his hands under the warm water, watching the liquid turn red under his hands. His blood-stained tabards he gave up as a lost cause and carefully removed, leaving the inner tunic on.
When he eventually exited the 'fresher, he brushed by an exhausted-looking Qui-Gon and moved towards his Padawan's bedside, stealing a glimpse of Obi-Wan as he did so. The boy's tunic had been removed entirely, leaving the cuts and bruises open to the world. The blaster wound had been heavily bandaged, and the teen's left arm was in a sling. Obi-Wan's wrists seemed to be decorated with the same odd scars that had appeared on Zara's arms. Grief filled Cin at the sight how badly the boy, barely more than a child, had been hurt due to a crime lord's greed and desire for revenge.
Taking a seat beside Zara, he placed one hand on her stomach, the other on the top of her head. Resting his brow lightly against Zara's forehead, he sunk into a deep trance, sending as much healing energy to his hurt apprentice as he could and praying to the Force that it would be enough to save her life.
************
Qui-Gon stumbled out of the refresher, his own tabards discarded in the same manner as Cin's. Glancing over at the younger Master, he saw the man in a deep trance, trying to aid Zara as best as he could. Qui-Gon smiled sadly before sitting beside Obi-Wan. The boy was breathing shallowly and feverish; not a good sign. At least one wound was already infected.
Dooku, who hadn't moved from his place beside Obi-Wan, rested a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "He'll be fine." However, he seemed to be convincing himself more than his former apprentice.
"I wish I could believe that, Master," mumbled Qui-Gon. "I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't make it."
"You will go on with life and he will go into the Force." Dooku's brown eyes sought Qui-Gon's blue. "It is the same for any other Master who loses a Padawan."
"Are you speaking from personal experience, Master?" Qui-Gon glared at Dooku. He knew the older man had never lost an apprentice to death. "Obi-Wan is the son I never had!"
"Calm yourself," reprimanded Dooku. Qui-Gon would have protested, but Obi-Wan had started moaning, tears escaping his closed eyes. The distressed teen captured his Master's attention, and Qui-Gon was willing to give it.
Dooku watched Qui-Gon attempt to comfort Obi-Wan and ease his pain before getting to his feet, wincing at the pain in his knees. I must be getting old, he grumbled to himself as he seated himself on another bunk.
The door to the cockpit slid open. Dooku glanced up, his eyebrows raising as Garen Muln hesitantly came further into the room. The boy's eyes were widened with shock as he cautiously stood beside Obi-Wan's bed, observing his best friend. Qui-Gon didn't glance up from his ministrations to his apprentice, although from the renewal of grief through the Force, knew the other teen was there.
"Obi?" Garen reached out a hand, touching Obi-Wan's unhurt arm.
Clee's head snapped up from where she had been aiding Aerdna with the Knight's wound. "Garen, you don't have to see this. I'd much rather you were in the cockpit with Master Kit."
Garen ignored his Master, instead going over to Zara's bed. The girl's breathing was a painful sound to listen to, as though each breath were an effort that she were fighting for. In fact, that probably wasn't too far from the truth. Cin didn't even acknowledge Garen, too deep in the healing trance to notice anything else. Mace stood up, trying to turn Garen away from his friend, who was rooted to the floor of the ship in horror. "Garen!"
The teen shook his head in disbelief. "No." His voice came out as a whisper.
Clee stood up and gently turned Garen away from his friends, softly murmuring words of comfort to him. "We're doing everything we can for them until we get to Coruscant. In the meantime, I don't want you coming back here unless it's an emergency. I don't need you to see them like that again. And don't let Dorlea back here either, you hear?"
"Excuse me?" Dorlea came into the room. "Zara might be a Jedi, but she's still my daughter."
"Believe me, Ms. Taerich," said Mace, "you don't want to see this." He gently took the woman's arm, trying to encourage her to go back to the cockpit.
"I believe I must see this, Master Windu." Dorlea slipped her arm out of the Jedi's grasp. "Call it a mother's instinct, or whatever you-" She gasped, her sentence left dangling, as she caught sight of the battered and bloody mess that was her daughter. "Zara!"
Mace took Dorlea's arm again. "She'll be unconscious for a long while yet." He didn't voice the worry all the Jedi had: that she would never wake up again. "You'd best go." He gently led a non-resisting Dorlea away from the improvised healing room, Clee and Garen following them.
Qui-Gon watched them leave with downcast eyes and a heavy heart. He knew that if one or both of the rescued Padawans died, their respective Masters wouldn't be the only ones to go mad from grief.
Slouching in his chair, he caught Obi-Wan's fingers in one hand and caressed the boy's cheek with the other. He let himself drift into a trance, following Cin's same idea and directing the Force to his Padawan to aid in his healing.
Please don't die now, Obi-Wan. You and Zara still have so much to live for. I still need you, Padawan!
************
The jolting of the ship as it touched down woke Qui-Gon out of a trance. For the last day and a bit, he and Cin had stayed almost permanently immersed in deep meditation, attempting to heal their Padawans. As it was, Qui-Gon suspected it was the only reason the pair was still alive.
Raising his head, he glanced around the 'sick bay' of the ship. Kit was limping through, his leg injury from Ylesia clearly still bothering him. Dooku strode beside him, once again wearing the perfect, emotionless mask of a Jedi. Cin was bent over Zara, holding her hand and stroking her hair. The young Master's jaw was set, and he appeared to be trying to hold back tears of dismay.
Mace ran by, slapping the control pad and waiting for the door to lower. The moment the ramp touched the floor outside, two Temple healer teams raced inside the ship. A Twi'lek healer shoved Qui-Gon out of the way as the medics bent over Obi-Wan's prostrate form. Within a moment, the healers had bundled the teen onto the stretcher and taken him out of the ship, destined for immediate surgery. The healers in charge of Zara closely followed their comrades out of the ship, leaving the Jedi rescue party to leave the ship by themselves.
Adi Gallia strode up the ramp. "Oh, Force!" Her eyes widened upon seeing how awful the various team members looked. "Knight Esniki and Master Fisto, you two head to the healers. Qui-Gon, Cin, are you two hurt?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, before looking down and sighing. His tunic was stained red from several re-bandagings of Obi-Wan's wounds. He was starting to wonder just how much blood the boy had in his body to start with, and how much he'd lost over his two-week captivity.
Mace looked at his two friends. "You two are still heading to your own quarters to rest. You're no good to your Padawans in that state."
Cin started to protest but was cut off by Mace. "Don't even argue. They'll be in surgery for hours anyway." The Master smiled softly, trying to reassure his friend. "If anything happens, I will call you. You have my word."
After a moment of hesitation, Cin nodded. The Master was clearly half-dead from exhaustion, and Qui-Gon wasn't much better. The two slowly left the ship, stumbling out of the Temple hanger towards their respective quarters. Qui-Gon's apartment was nearer, so the duo headed in that direction.
Once there, Qui-Gon glanced at Cin. "Will you be able to get back to your quarters all right?"
Cin slowly nodded, despite the fact that he was weaving back and forth as he stood in the hallway.
Qui-Gon looked harder at his friend, before tugging the younger Master into his apartment. "My couch is yours."
"Thanks," mumbled Cin, removing his blood-stained tunic and boots before casting himself upon the couch and immediately falling into a deep slumber.
Qui-Gon staggered down the hallway to his own bedroom, pausing barely long enough to remove his boots and ruined tunic before falling onto the mattress into a deep sleep, although plagued by visions of his Padawan dying in his arms.
*************
See? Obi-Wan and Zara aren't dead... *cough*yet*cough*. Mwahahaha-*ahem*
Forgiven me? Leave a review. Still mad at me? Leave a review. Just starting this fic? Leave a review!
Oh, is anyone interested in a Jedi Apprentice-era RPG? My good mate Sithstrukk started a role-play forum in the Jedi Apprentice section, if anyone wants to check it out. Just make up your character and join us! (Because we have three players so far, and we need more. So come!)
Thanks for reading! Please review!
Xaja
