His head meekly lowered, Obi-Wan followed Sitaris out of the lift tube, back to the utility room of Xanatos' quarters. For a quarter hour longer, he had allowed his distraction and depression to dominate him, allowed his movement to be slow and clumsy, his efforts half-hearted. He had watched Sitaris' frustration grow. Finally the trainer had chained him and ordered him back to the lift tube, three hours early.

Sitaris pushed the call-button, signaling that he wanted words with Xanatos. A minute or so later, he was answered.

"I'm in the living room," spoke the languorous voice. "You may come."

Sitaris led the boy through the door that opened on the main quarters.

Stay here. Obi-Wan slid the thought into Sitaris' consciousness, willing it to stick. Stay here.

Sitaris stopped and turned back to look at him before the door to the living room. "Stay here, and do not move," he told the boy. Then he strode through the door, letting it slide shut behind him.

Obi-Wan drew a deep, steadying breath. He turned and ran, grateful that Sitaris had not bothered to set the collar to keep him in place, down the hall and around the corner, to Xanatos' office. He laid his trembling hands upon the lock to the door and centered himself, opening himself to the Force, willing the door to open.

Padawan!

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, his thoughts scattered, and for several heartbeats he could not find his mental voice.

Master!

He sensed Qui-Gon's confidence: that he was on his way. Joy flooded the young Jedi, and relief. And then - dismay. Regret. A growing determination. He felt Qui-Gon's confusion and foreboding at his tangled rush of emotions.

He couldn't leave now. Duty first.

Padawan -

Good-bye, Qui-Gon.

And firmly, finally, he closed Qui-Gon out.

Tears filled his eyes. He blinked them back. Now was not the time for tears, he knew he had little time left for this mission. And Obi-Wan had no illusion what would happen if he managed to destroy the tapes. He fully expected Xanatos to kill him.

The contact with Qui-Gon had done one thing for Obi-Wan: he was certain, now, of this course of action. In moments he had the door open; he slipped inside, letting it slide shut behind him.

There. A stack of flat canisters rested on one side of the desk. He could only hope he'd gotten the right tapes as he scooped them up and ran for the door. To the incinerator in the utility room -

He turned the corner at a dead run, through the door -

"Stop!" It was Xanatos' voice.

Time seemed to slow down, almost to stop. Without breaking stride, Obi-Wan dived into the essence of the Force, drawing it in and letting go every other thought than reaching the incinerator on the other side of the room; bidding the Force to use him, to make of him its vehicle. Like the distant hum of the generators and servomotors that kept the Palace lit, its air refreshed, the young Jedi felt a buzz from the collar at his neck. It didn't matter, nothing mattered but his task, his focus... His vision washed white. He felt lighter than air. Time paused and stretched... He pushed the canisters through the hinged top. Saw them disappear into the body of the incinerator. Saw the flash of light as the field in its interior ignited.

And then he was falling, sinking to the floor really, his face pressed to the wall, his body in agony.

Had he succeeded? Anxiety filled him, even as he knew the answer, that it was done, that he'd won an important victory. But now the Force was receding from him as his fear advanced. He felt the creeping darkness of Xanatos as the fallen Jedi approached, seized him, and threw him to the floor.

"How dare you!" Xanatos growled in rage, straddling Obi-Wan's hips. He lifted the boy by both shoulders and slammed him against the floor. "You will pay for this outrage!" Xanatos took an injector from his belt and pressed it to Obi-Wan's arm. With his still-heightened sensitivity, Obi-Wan could feel a substance rushing into his bloodstream, felt dread as he sensed the danger in its spread through his system. Xanatos placed both hands on the young Jedi's chest. The boy cried out: never mind the collar: it could hurt him no more than it was already. The anger filling Xanatos was charged with Dark Side energy. It crackled through Obi-Wan's skin like a bolt of electricity, setting his nerves on fire; it burned his mind as a bright light would burn his eyes. Obi-Wan cried out again, his voice rising to a scream.

"Stop! Stop! There is no honor in this!" Obi-Wan heard Sitaris shouting. Abruptly the pain ended, though Obi-Wan still felt suffocated by the power of the Dark Side. He sobbed softly, his eyes closed tight.

"Get out!" The Dark Jedi intoned, his voice low, trembling now, enraged. "Out! Your carelessness has cost me dearly today! Out, before I take my payment in your life!" And with a flick of dark energy, an iota of the growing power at his command, he threw Sitaris across the room. Obi-Wan heard the lift tube door open and shut: knew the trainer was gone, and felt a twinge of - what? regret?

Xanatos laughed then, his head thrown back. "Who would have thought?" he said in a tone of rising excitement. Placing his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders once more, he sent a current of power, of pain, through the boy's body and mind.

Obi-Wan bit his lip on a scream. He was drowning in the dark Force. As though he were trapped in the field of a black hole, he felt it gathering around him as a tremendous weight, as pressure on his spirit, crushing him, collapsing his self to a point, to nothing. There was rage there, jealousy, hatred, a tremendous abhorrence of all that lived and breathed and made life.

Again Xanatos released him, breathing quickly now, exulting in the might of his will, the potent energy channeling through him. "Such power the Dark Side gives. It answers to your feelings, to your need. Can't you feel it calling you, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan shuddered. He could indeed feel the Dark Side calling to him, pulling at him. He saw himself throwing Xanatos across the room, piercing his body with a sizzling bolt of dark energy, destroying him - the fierce will of the Dark Side tempting him. He felt its thirst for pain, for power, for the power of domination and destruction; its cruel joy in the promise of battle.

The Dark Side promised a vast power, more strength than he had ever felt in his connection with the Force. With it he could strike down Xanatos, could escape his cruelty and his cunning! He teetered on the knife point of decision.

Fear leads to anger, to hate...

Obi-Wan forced himself to remember the madness he had seen in Xanatos' eyes. Would he become such a monster? Would he too turn against his master, against everyone he loved?

The Dark would use him, if he allowed it. It would use him up, suck the life from him until he was a desiccated husk, crush him into dust. No, he would not touch the Dark Side. But fear filled him - not for himself, not for his death, he had already accepted the imminence of his death. He was afraid of what Xanatos would do with this power he wielded. He was strong, so strong...

Light help me! He reached for the warmth of the living Force, but he could only glimpse it, a will-o-wisp in the stretching darkness.

"You can feel it!" Xanatos crowed. "But you're too much a coward to use it! And the light won't accept you either - I can feel you reaching for it. Such delicious irony!" He snickered, his eyes narrowing. Then he leaned over the boy, staring into his frightened eyes. Obi-Wan found he could not move, could not look away.

"The plans I have, my young friend! You will see them come to fruition. I will keep you by my side, see how I favor you? For Qui-Gon will never come for you. You're already lost to the light. Little Jedi reject... Renounced by the Force, renounced by the Council...The Council forbade him to come. Why not turn your back on them? They turned their backs on you! Here, speak, I release your voice!"

At the mention of Qui-Gon's name, Obi-Wan felt his mind clear, just a little, of the darkness oppressing him. His master was near, was coming for him... He shook his head in denial: a slow, slight movement. "You lie," he whispered.

Xanatos frowned, his eyes narrowed, sensing the boy's sudden rush of hope. "Still placing your trust in that old fool? But no..." A slow, nasty grin curled the man's lips. "He's here. Isn't he? Here in the city."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. He tried to shake his head, to deny... and then the darkness formed the point of a spear rushing toward him, tearing through his defenses, striking deep into his mind. He cried out. Get out! Get out of my head! He struggled to throw up mental shields, to push Xanatos away: with no more effect than if he were beating against a steel wall with bare fists. When did he get so strong? he wondered, panic rising.

"He thinks to come for you. Well, we shall have to make certain he is not disappointed. Your dear master is walking into a trap. He will not be able to stand against me! For I am stronger now, far stronger... You feel it, don't you? You feel, and you fear me! As you should!"

The darkness twisted within him, but Obi-Wan was helpless to deny it. He closed his eyes, feeling sick. Reached for the Force, but it slipped away from him, cool and untouchable.

"You set my plans back considerably this afternoon. A temporary setback, I assure you. But I am not well pleased with you, my dear disobedient slave. I shall have to punish you. Shall I make you cry and beg for mercy, little Jedi?"

No! Obi-Wan pleaded silently, through rising pain. No more! Then flushed with shame at his weakness.

Xanatos laughed, letting go his shoulders, releasing the pain. With one hand he traced the boy's jaw. "No. I won't hurt you, not now." He grinned, a smile that sent shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. "I believe you would prefer to see my plans for your master." And then the darkness was twisting within the boy once more, and his vision faded, until he saw Xanatos standing before him in his mind's eye, and he could not look away, there was no way to look away...