Part Two

Qui-Gon stood, robed arms crossed, and stared angrily at the holo figure of his long time friend, Mace Windu.

"What do you mean you haven't heard from him?' Qui-Gon asked through lips that were pressed in a tight line.

"Qui, Obi-Wan commed us three days ago, confirming that he was on his way to go get you. Didn't he comm you?"

"Yes, but I haven't heard from him since and I haven't felt him through our bond."

Mace sighed. Qui-Gon was being very overprotective of his Padawan of late. He was well aware of the reasoning behind it. Granted the padawan had been thrown in jail for helping an escaped convict on his last mission. Which hadn't been Obi-Wan's fault, he didn't know he was helping a criminal; he just thought he was helping a man in need. Blasted Qui-Gon! Mace knew it was Qui-Gon's fault for getting the boy into trouble for helping dependent beings. Mace's face contorted into a drawn smile. Like Master, like Apprentice.

"Qui-Gon, there isn't a lot I can do. But I can see where his craft might have last been seen."

"Do that Mace. Get back to me once you hear something." Qui-Gon shut off the comm unit.

So, Qui-Gon meditated. There was little else he could do but wait and be patient. Something he was forever telling his padawan to do.

He tried to reach his apprentice through their bond. It felt like it was severed in a way. Not that Obi-Wan was shielding, but like the communication between them had simply been cut off so that he couldn't reach him at all.

Qui-Gon's vision of his Padawan came back with full force. This time he knew he wasn't dreaming. He felt like he was living it. He could see trees and people clearly. He had never seen these people; their clothing was different than any he had ever seen. He saw the glare of the sun. It shone right on a figure being led.

He stared at the boy, whose hands where bound. He was dressed as the other men around him. His hair was short and there was a long thin braid on the side of his head.

Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon saw where he was being lead. There was a tall post in middle of a wooden platform, and a few steps leading up to it. There were two men on top. One held a coiled whip in his hand. The other glared at his apprentice.

Qui-Gon knew what was going to happen. His mind screamed its denial. NO!

He saw Obi-Wan stumble and fall to his knees. The guards on either side pulled him up roughly.

Obi-Wan was next to the post. His shirt was ripped off of him, the guards tied him to the post.

There was some talk from the man without the whip. Qui-Gon couldn't hear it. His eyes were glued to his apprentice.

As the whipping began, he could see the torment on his Padawan's face, but Obi-Wan did not make a sound. Qui-Gon knew that men twice Obi-Wan's age would be screaming and crying by now.

But as the beating continued, and Obi-Wan's back was torn and bleeding, he started to scream.

As the blows continued to fall, the louder the screams became.

Finally, when Obi-Wan could barely stay conscious, he screamed, both out aloud and inside.

"MASTER!"

Obi-Wan went still and the beating stopped.

Qui-Gon was back in his room, his body now crumpled on the floor with tears running down his face.

He whisper echoed in the quiet room, "No matter where you are, Padawan, I am going to find you."

Lieutenant Thomas Anderson was disgusted with this whole mess. Just because Charles Benedict was a distant cousin of the great General Benedict Arnold it didn't mean he could do as he pleased. Of course, Tom was not above rank, so he couldn't say much. Thomas Anderson retained his calm face in front of the men and the boy.

Benedict told the men to shackle Ben to one of the nearby tents.

The men left with Ben, one of the men going with him stopped from a signal from

Benedict. He said, "Get McGregor some different clothes."

Tom said to the man before he left, "Don't lay a hand on him." The man turned to Benedict for his say. Benedict raised an eyebrow. All he said was, "You heard him."

When it was just the two of them, Benedict said, "Giving orders now, Anderson?" There was a hint of steel in the General's voice.

"No, sir, but you will know what some of them would do to him. Some think he deserted."

"Oh, and all your British friends wouldn't do the same to you if they could?" Benedict said with malice. "Give any excuse and these dogs will rip you apart." He said with a thin cold smile.

Tom had to control himself from shuddering. He never deserted the British army. Well not really. He put his five years of service in and left. While Tom had still been in the army, he had heard about the colonists' cause and joined them. Treason, which in their eyes, meant joining the colonists, which was worse than deserting during time of war. Even though that had been three years ago, just before the war, no one would let go of their hatred.

Ignoring his own past, he said, "What will be done with Private McGregor after the flogging?"

"If he survives the flogging and any infection, I can find a use to him," he said in monotone. "You are aware that you will be administering the flogging?"

"Administering?" Tom knew as regiment leader, he was responsible for his men and for their punishments. He'd never had to flog anyone before, though. Before he could speak or protest, Benedict stopped him.

"You understand that if you do not follow your duty, Lieutenant, that you would be flogged as much or even more then McGregor?"

"I understand completely, sir." Tom was feeling sick. Not that he had to worry about being flogged, but he had to do it and to Ben who was still a boy no less. Before Ben had left, he had gotten to know the young man. Which was one more thing, something didn't just seem right. For one was his outer appearance.

"Sir?" Tom spoke with calm he didn't feel, "What is with Private McGregor's clothes and hair?"

Benedict rolled his eyes. "I didn't know the boy had it in him to dress like a monk and cut his hair. And he must have cut it drunk, and what in heaven's name is with that pigtail? I don't remember that!" he snorted.

That was exactly what Tom was thinking. Something was different about Ben.

Sitting with his hands and feet shackled, Obi-Wan tried to lean against the beam of the darkened tent to fall asleep.

The soldiers had given him clothes that had belonged to a boy about his size. How they had them, he would never know. Obi-Wan didn't want to know. Though, what happed to my own? he wondered.

Sighing, he knew he would not sleep. Putting his arms around his knees, Obi-Wan knew he couldn't let his fear and panic triumph over him.

Obi-Wan had tried to reach his Master. As before, he could feel that the Force was there, somewhere not so far away, but the area around himself seemed strangely vacant of it.

Why can't I use the Force? What happened to my lightsaber? Am I trapped here? His thoughts turned to his Master. Master, where are you? Will you even be able to find me?

A voice came to him. It was his Master's. It wasn't from their bond, just something the apprentice remembered his Master saying.

But you are my Padawan, Obi-Wan.

He remembered exactly the time Qui-Gon had said that.Right after the death of Xanatos he thought.

Another saying came to mind. This time it was of Yoda.

Strength you have, Obi-Wan. Patience you have as well, but find it, you must. It is there within you. Search you will, until you find and hold it. Learn to use it, you must. Learn that it will save you, you will.

He had remembered that many times. Once again Master Yoda was right. With the sayings of his Master and Yoda, he drifted to sleep.

Obi-Wan woke up shaking. Not from the cold, but from the dreams he had. He had dreamt of Cerasi's death, and then he had a dream of Xanatos mocking him.

Moments later, three soldiers came in. As one unshackled him, the others held their guns so that he could not make a run for it.

They tied his hands behind his back. As Obi-Wan walked out, the glare of the rising sun hit him in the face. He saw all the men from yesterday. They were lined up in their regiments to watch the whipping take place.

As Obi-Wan was led to what looked like a platform with steps and a tall wooden post in the center of it, he tried to focus himself even without the touch of the Force. As he got closer, he noticed Sam among the men.

Obi-Wan looked at Sam. He didn't want Sam to witness this. As he passed, Sam said, "I'm praying for you." Obi-Wan looked at him and with thanks in his eyes; he knew that Sam would understand.

Nearing the steps, Obi-Wan stumbled on some loose rock and fell to his knees. Loose, jagged stones and pieces of wood cut though his clothing and the skin on his knees. Rough hands pulled him to his feet.

Nearly tripping up the steps Obi-Wan came up on the platform. General Benedict gave him an icy look. Lieutenant Anderson looked at him sturdily. Obi-Wan stared at him unmoving. Anderson turned his head. His hands were on the coiled rope. They were turning white from his rigid hold.

The soldiers who had led Obi-Wan here, ripped off his shirt. As the fabric ripped causing buttons to fly, Obi-Wan felt a chill going up his spine. Whether it was from cold or the chill of fear gripping him, Obi-Wan wasn't sure.

As he was being tied to the post, Benedict started to talk to all the men gathered there.

The rough wood was scratchy against his bare chest, but the ropes tightly holding his wrists were already digging into the red, torn skin that had been injured by the other ropes and chains.

Obi-Wan saw something in Anderson's eyes for a moment, but other man quickly masked it. A moment later, he saw the coiled rope fly from Anderson's hand to make its first mark. Obi-Wan could barely catch his breath at the first blow.

"One!" Anderson said and let the rope fly again.

Pain rushed though his back and body as the rope made another mark in the already torn skin.

"Two!"

"Three, four, five…" One by one the blows fell against his back, each more painful then the last. The young Jedi had to shut his eyes from the burning pain tearing his back. Obi-Wan could not help the hiss of breath or moans that escaped through his lips. Finally, after more then a dozen blows, he wasn't sure how many, but he could not remain silent any longer. The excruciating, burning pain was too much, and after each blow, a scream tore through his throat and mouth. With each scream, the counting and flogging continued, Obi-Wan was in too much pain to know how long it had been.

Close to unconscious, his body shaking with pain, with his eyes wet from tears, and his throat raw from screaming, Obi-Wan shouted one more time. "MASTER

After that, Obi-Wan fell into blissfulness of darkness.

Tom had guard duty, so to speak, at the tent where Ben McGregor lay. The doctor had been in to bandage the wounds, nothing more. It would be a miracle if Ben lived though it at all.

I think if Benedict had his way, Ben would have been hung. Tom frowned thinking of the boy. He knew there was different about Ben. What was it? Someone approaching brought him out of his thoughts.

It was Sam, Ben's brother. There was something odd about him too. How Sam got to be in Tom's regiment he wasn't sure. But he wondered if having both brothers in his regiment would be a blessing or a curse.

Sam had a basket with him. In it, he could see strips of cloth, alcohol, and some other things.

Tom gave him a hard look. "What are you doing here?"

Sam leveled his look. "Sir, I am going to treat an innocent boy. Move."

Tom narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't talk if I were you. Your brother left the army during war and you know it. You should be jumping for joy that he wasn't hung."

Sam stared angrily at him. With out a word he stepped around him and went in the tent.

Sam entered the dim tent, not sure what he would see. Obi-Wan was on his stomach, still out cold. He face still had the mask of pain on it.

Setting his basket down, he felt Obi-Wan's head. It was warm. Not good.

Start with the whiplashes first.

Pulling the blanket down to reveal Obi-Wan's back, Sam got a shock. The bandages that where already there were nearly soaked with blood.

Sam had to breathe a few times so his stomach wouldn't reject what food it had in it. Obi-Wan's back was covered with torn flesh that was already started to become infected. While stripping away the bloody bandages, Obi-Wan stirred and moaned, but didn't awaken.

Sam was feeling light headed. He had to try to focus on fixing Obi-Wan's back, not worry about his weak stomach.

"Need some help?" a deep voice asked.

Startled, Sam nearly dropped the alcohol. Tom was standing there waiting for him to say something.

"Please," Sam knew he couldn't do this on his own.

Tom looked repulsed at the work he had made.

Together they started to work on the boy's back. As the alcohol touched the torn flesh, Obi-Wan stirred and nearly screamed from the pain. Sam quickly covered Obi-Wan's mouth to muffle his cry.

Obi-Wan's blue-green eyes were glossy with intense pain

"I'll work on his back and you just keep his head cool and his mind off of his back." Tom ordered Sam.

Obi-Wan watched as the men worked over him. He could hardly pay attention with his back screaming in white-hot agony. As he clutched the blanket that was his bed and not to scream, Obi-Wan wondered if he would ever see his Master again.