Chapter Four: "Sacrifice"
I could tell by the look on Mr. Kenobi's face that he was wanting to try and escape before Corvin reached his destination, although I wished he wouldn't try. There were too many people around and if he was capable of using the Force, somebody was bound to notice and then he'd have to flee again. Mihon needed him and his positive influence, even though the darkness seemed to have taken over. Our abductor, for example. He may have had a rough start in life, but there were still opportunities for him. Even if that meant moving to a different community! After he went through rehab of course. I knew enough about addictions to understand that without medical assistance, it was nearly impossible to break free.
I was growing more nervous the further the distance we traveled away from the school. I'd estimated we had gone at least twenty blocks and the city had rapidly become more dilapidated if that were possible. The building he took us into may have been a mill in the past. There was still textile equipment inside, though it obviously hadn't been used in some time.
More importantly, were the crates stacked in every corner overflowing with weapons. I noticed blaster rifles, boxes of grenades, thermal detonators, and other containers marked 'Baradium'. It was as if this gang was preparing for war, and I supposed that in a way, they were, although I wasn't certain who they were fighting against.
I imagined Mr. Kenobi was curious to see who this 'Suds' person was, and if, by chance, he could bargain our way out of there. However, the leader of this gang was much older than I had counted on, and there was no way he could've been one of his former students. Despite his older age, he was definitely the muscle of the group, however, and aggressively handled Corvin as soon as we drew close to him.
"You little idiot! What did you bring them here for? What if you were followed?
"We wasn't followed Suds, honest!" Corvin shouted while attempting to shrug off the strong grip on his sleeve. "This here's a Senator from the Core. I figured she was worth a credit or two. Don't you?"
Suds stood up and approached me, his stench filling my nostrils and causing my eyes to water. Didn't these people have sonics or soap and water for that matter?
"These jewels are probably enough to cancel your debt," the heavy-set man announced, his one good eye glaring down at me from a height nearly half a meter above. "But this," he said while prying my chin up with his grimy fingers. "This face will bring us a fortune."
"Her family's got it, Suds! You know they do!"
"Her family?" the man retorted with a snort. "We ain't bargaining with her, we're selling her! The pleasure industry would pay highly for someone with her looks."
My stomach rolled at the thought. I would die before I allowed such a thing to happen!
"You done good Bullet," he told our kidnapper. "I got a present for you in back."
I watched in despair as the young man shuffled to a table along the far wall, where he was handed a short tube filled with an orange, gritty substance I realized had to be spice.
"Now, what to do with you Kenobi," the gruff boss said, turning his attention back to us while two other thugs stepped up, armed with blaster rifles. "I know of a few Fangs who might pay handsomely to give you some payback. You really got on a few nerves back in the day. You with your lofty ideas of a hard-day's-work bantha fodder. Without me, these kids ain't got nothin' worth livin' for and you know it. They belong to me. I own 'em, see?"
"You're wrong," Mr. Kenobi replied, immediately receiving a powerful punch in the stomach that doubled him over and made him gasp for breath. Once he'd recovered, even though I was begging him with my eyes to remain quiet, he apparently had more to say.
"These kids deserve a decent life with a decent job and a safe place to call home. You're nothing but a dirty drug dealer and a thug. You use them to make yourself rich. You don't care if they live or die."
"So? You talk like that's a bad thing." Suds chuckled while several others joined him. Mr. Kenobi didn't look humored in the least.
"Your time is coming," he said as if stating a fact. "One day this whole area is going to be cleaned up and they'll find your rotting corpse buried beneath your piles of so-called wealth and spice. You're nothing but a lonely, empty shell of a man, so afraid of death that he's too scared to live."
The man's lip curled above his stubbled jaw. "You're not so smart, you know. Snake? Runt? Show the professor just how smart he ain't."
I was relieved that I'd been locked in another room before the men had carried out Suds' orders. Although I could still hear every punch that landed upon Mr. Kenobi's body, at least I didn't have to watch it.
After about half an hour, everything went silent, until the bolt on the steel door before me unlocked and a bloody body was drug in.
Once we were left alone, I rushed over to Mr. Kenobi's side. One eye was inflamed and completely shut, his lip was split and bleeding, and a substantial bruise on his cheek was beginning to show. When I tried to help him stand, he winced and I imagined he had a couple of bruised or broken ribs as well.
"What were you thinking in there?" I scolded him while helping him over to a rusty bench. "If you were trying to talk our way out of here, you didn't do a very good job."
"I was just getting warmed up," he replied with a chuckle, immediately regretting the action. "Ow," he said before dabbing the blood on his lip with the back of his hand.
There wasn't any access to water in this room, but I did have bandages so-to-speak. Beneath my gown was a chemise and slip and I carefully ripped a long strip from the bottom of it to try and clean his wounds, although he continued to complain while I did so.
"That's enough, thanks," he murmured, trying not to move his mouth so much.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, rather bewildered. After the beating he had taken, I had decided that his assistant Iris had indeed been incorrect in her assumptions. If Mr. Kenobi was able to use the Force, wouldn't he have done so? Wouldn't he have defended himself and gotten us to safety?
In a way, I was glad he hadn't, because it meant he wasn't guilty of such an atrocity. However, I was also troubled, because we could sure use some superhuman strength right about now.