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Official Disclaimer:  The characters and all things Star Wars in this fic belong to George Lucas and those affiliated with Lucasfilm, not me.  I am using the characters without permission and I am not making any money off of this.

Note:  Thanks to Sarah and Katie for reading and editing this, and for helping me get it finished.   Also, a special thanks to the person who came up with the title, you know who you are.  This is the first fan fic I ever wrote, so tell me what you think and review.

Note #2:  The title of this story, for those who want to know, means death or final settlement.  Of course that's assuming anyone really cares.  J

Quietus

By Ender

      "Obi-Wan!"

           

Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn found himself screaming his Padawan's name frantically as the building in back of him erupted into a huge fireball.  As the scorching flames licked at his face, a chill ran through the Jedi's body.  His apprentice was still inside the building when it exploded, and no person, Jedi or not, could survive that colossal blast. 

These thoughts, accompanied by feelings of shock and grief, flashed through Qui-Gon's head in a split second as he struggled to crawl away from the searing heat.  He pushed the thoughts away, attempting to concentrate on pulling his body away from the fiery wreck. 

Qui-Gon tried to stand, but his legs buckled, and he fell to the ground with barely enough strength to break his fall. He sought refuge from heat behind a pile of boxes as smaller explosions roared behind him.  Guilt loomed in the back of Qui-Gon's mind as the final blast thundered in the background, causing debris to rain around him.  The Jedi then fell into darkness, passing out from the wounds that he had sustained during the previous battle and the scorching heat that engulfed his body.

           

When he came into consciousness, Qui-Gon saw that he had been moved to one of the medical rooms inside the Jedi Temple.  He tried to remember what had happened to him, but a splitting headache that blocked clear thought.  Qui-Gon surveyed his injuries and concluded from the pain in his ribs that they were possibly broken.  He also noticed the numerous cuts and burns he had sustained from falling debris and his aching head all but screamed that he had a concussion.  His chest felt like it was on fire, and the cuts he had received felt like stabbing pinpricks that threatened to overwhelm him each time he dared to move.  Qui-Gon reached up and felt the coarse texture of the gauze encompassing his throbbing head.

As he looked around the white walled room, he began to feel a disturbance in the back of his mind that was not caused by his throbbing headache.  Qui-Gon decided to banish the disturbance to the deep recesses of his mind in order to focus on the matters at hand. He tried to remember what had caused the injuries, but drew a blank, then sensed through the Force that someone was approaching.

As Qui-Gon looked up, a woman entered the room.  She wore the plain light-blue robes of a Jedi healer, which swished softly as she moved to his bed.

"Hello," she said," I'm your healer, Ra'ae.  It's good to see you awake."

"How long have I been here?" asked Qui-Gon as the disturbance in his mind grew, unbeknownst to him.

"You've been asleep for three days," Ra'ae answered,  "I tended to your broken ribs and other wounds.  They should heal completely in a few days.  The effects of your concussion might last a bit longer, though.   Many of the masters have been in to see you, but you were not well enough for-"

Ra'ae stopped talking as a knock resonated on the cold metal door.

"Your friend Tahl has been wanting to see you, as well.  I'll leave you for a while."

She exited the room as Tahl entered.  Tahl maneuvered over to the bed, skillfully avoiding a chair, though she was unable to see it. To the casual onlooker, it would not have appeared that she was completely blind.  Qui-Gon was glad to see a familiar face in his confusion.  He wanted to talk to her and find out what had happened to him, and ask her about the event that had caused him to end up like this.

"Hello Qui-Gon," she said quietly, giving him a light hug.

"Hello, Tahl, it's good to see you," he answered; though he had a strange urge to start questioning her about the mysterious disturbance right away.  It felt like a memory that needed to surface, but couldn't, it just pulsed in his mind.

"How are the injuries faring?" Tahl asked Qui-Gon, a motherly look crossing her beautiful face.

"They're all right.  They say the cuts and burns should be gone in the next few days.  The concussion affected my memory, though, I don't remember much about what happened," he answered.

Tahl went slightly pale at his words, as a pained look crossed her lovely features.  Qui-Gon saw this, and was immediately concerned.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked her urgently, "What's wrong?"

"Do you remember anything about your mission or the accident?" Tahl said, with a strange, sad look in her eyes.

"I remember that our mission was to infiltrate a pirate smuggling league that was killing innocent people in return for large amounts of credits.  Obi-Wan and I slipped into their warehouse. That's where my recollection ends."

Then something from his previous sentence hit him like a hard punch in the gut.  His voice became panicked as the disturbance grew to an enormous size, filling his entire mind.  One question came to his mind amidst the flurry of questions and feelings of dread flying through his thoughts.

"Where is Obi-Wan?"

           

The 15 year-old boy struggled against the chains that bound his wrists and feet together, trying futilely to release himself.  His captors had kept him drugged and, as a result, the Force slipped away from him as if he were holding an eel.  It could no longer provide help or comfort for him.

            He stopped struggling for a moment, and looked for the millionth time around the room for an escape route.  The room was pitch-black and damp, with walls of solid stone.  The only way out was the entrance; the only light a doorway of lasers in front of a thick door made of metal.  The beams were formulated so that they would severely injure anything that dared to cross their path.  There was no hope for escape through the door, so the boy continued to try to break free.  He couldn't escape, but it would help to be untied if an opportunity arose.

            Then the lasers deactivated and the door opened, sending painful, unwelcome light into the boy's eyes, temporarily blinding him.

            Two men stepped into the room, carrying large wooden clubs and blasters.

            "Rise and shine, prettyboy," one said mockingly, "cause you're going to pay for your meddling."

            The men tried to drag the boy out of the room, but he resisted, trying clumsily to hit the men with his heavy chains.  The men were faster and better armed, though, and began to hit him with their clubs.  Soon the boy's entire body was aching as the men beat him mercilessly with the weapons. 

            The boy started to loose consciousness soon after the torture began.  As he fell into darkness he heard the men talking.

            "This one's going to pay."

             "What's the scum's name?"

            "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

           

Tahl's face turned almost transparent at Qui-Gon's question.  She turned her head away from his questioning gaze.

            "There were important documents in the warehouse that could expose the pirates," she said as her voice quivered.

            "Yes, I know.  What does that have to do with Obi-Wan?"  Qui-Gon was becoming very worried.

            The pirates destroyed the warehouse.  All that was left were smoldering cinders.  Obi-Wan was…." Tahl stared at the floor, not wanting to look at Qui-Gon.

            "Obi-Wan was what, Tahl?  Tell me!"

            "Obi-Wan was still in the warehouse when it was destroyed.  He was killed in the blast."  Tahl's eyes were filled with tears.  "I'm sorry."

            Qui-Gon began to feel sick as his mind processed the terrible information that he had just heard.  The words felt like a knife sticking into his heart.  Obi-Wan can't be dead, he thought to himself. I was just talking to him.

He knew, though, that if the Jedi Council had given up a search, they were absolutely sure of their findings.  His Padawan was gone forever.  Qui-Gon could feel bile burning his already sore throat, threatening to choke him.  Thoughts of guilt and grief flew through Qui-Gon's head as a single tear slid down his cheek.

            "I'm sorry," Tahl said, her voice breaking on the words, "It was a shock to everyone.  A search party looked for any sign of him, but nothing was found."

            "Thank you for telling me," Qui-Gon's words sounded hollow, even to himself.  "I-  "

            Ra'ae entered the room, causing Qui-Gon to stop speaking.

            "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Qui-Gon will need to sleep so the injuries will have time to heal."

            "Of course," Tahl turned to Qui-Gon.  "I'm sorry, my friend, but the council has sent me on a mission with Takr."  Her voice was laced with regret.

            "It's all right Tahl, you should go.  Thank you for visiting me," Qui-Gon said, his voice sounding far away.

            "Goodbye," Tahl whispered, "I'm sorry."

            "Goodbye."

            Ra'ae returned to check on Qui-Gon's bandages. 

"You are healing, but you need to rest.  The council has requested you to come before them as soon as you are well," Ra'ae said.

Qui-Gon nodded with a slight tilt of his head before he sank back into his grievous thoughts, then sleep, a picture of Obi-Wan hovering in the back of his mind.

           

"Get up, scum."

            Obi-Wan woke at the sound of the man's harsh voice.  He immediately noticed the fresh wounds from the previous day's beating.  His torso and head ached from the harsh blows of the clubs and his wrists and ankles were raw and bloody from the heinous chains that cut deeply into his skin when he struggled.  Obi-Wan knew that an escape was hopeless in his current state, and decided to focus on resting to return his strength.

            The men prodded him mercilessly on his aching wounds as Obi-Wan tried to stand.  His remaining strength left him and he fell to the ground.  The Jedi attempted to stand again, but fell painfully on his face.

            One of the men started grumbling as they started to drag Obi-Wan to his unknown destination.  Obi-Wan was powerless at the hands of the brutal men.  He couldn't walk, run, or connect to the force.  The drug had partially worn off, and he tried to call Qui-Gon through their bond, but to no avail.  Obi-Wan hoped that his master had not been captured or injured, and that he would soon find the young Jedi

            Obi-Wan tried to recollect what had happened after he had been fighting at his master's side.  All he could remember was being dragged away as the warehouse erupted into flames.  At this thought he became very concerned for his master, and feverishly hoped that his master had survived the inferno.

            Obi-Wan's thoughts were jarred as the men threw him down on the icy floor.  As he fought to roll over on his back, a man entered the desolate room.

            The man was gigantic, making the other men look diminutive.  He wore a blood red cloak with a black tunic and pants.  He was obviously the superior to the other men, as they stood behind him and cowered.  His commanding presence filled the room as his harsh gaze centered on Obi-Wan.

            The two other men seemed to shrink away as the new man's voice boomed.

            "You, Jedi," he sneered, "have meddled in our affairs and in doing so you have cost me a lifetime of riches.  You have been given to me to punish as I see fit."  The man stepped toward his helpless prisoner, as if threatening him.  "I don't think it would be profitable to kill you, so I will save you from that fate.  You will make an excellent slave, however."

            Obi-Wan wasn't sure if that was to his benefit as the man looked at him like a predator would at fresh meat.

            "Yes, you will do.  I will take you to Kantreg, and you will be my personal slave.  You do not have a name anymore.  You shall be known as slave, boy, or scum.  You will come quickly and obediently when called or I will make your life miserable.  That is a promise."

            He leaned in close to Obi-Wan's face, as if daring him to disagree.  Obi-Wan returned the look with a cold glare.

            Obi-Wan's hopes at escape or a rescue had vanished when the man had said they were going to Kantreg.  It was a small planet on the outer rim where slavery was accepted, not despised.  There was little to no hope that anyone would find him on the tiny planet.  It was up to him to devise a plan to return to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple.  Obi-Wan decided to accept this turn of events and wait.  He then answered the burly pirate.

            "What am I to call you, then?"  Obi-Wan kept his voice neutral and calm.

            "My name is Croix, but you will call me Master at all times." Croix answered.

            Croix then signaled the other men with his hand.  They took hold of Obi-Wan's arms and dragged him onto a landing pad with a waiting starship.  It had a jet-black hull that made it seem like a vehicle of death.  The men dragged Obi-Wan on to the ship to a seat in a room just outside of the cockpit.  They chained him to an uncomfortable chair that was made entirely of metal.  Obi-Wan knew that he would be held there for the days it took to go to the outer rim.

            Croix approached the chair with a strange device in his hand.

            "One more thing," he said, grinning menacingly, "Banish any thoughts of escaping."

            He reached over and snapped a strange machine that looked like a bracelet to Obi-Wan's limp and bloody wrist.

            "This administers a drug every twelve hours that will keep your Jedi powers at bay. It is indestructible and you will not be able to take it off.  If you try to leave my property without permission, it will inject you with enough of the drug to kill you instantly.

            Croix turned and walked away with a confident swagger as Obi-Wan was injected with a drug by a needle in the bracelet.  It put him instantly into a deep sleep as the starship carried him toward a bleak future.

            Qui-Gon stood before the Jedi Council, the gazes of the twelve masters sweeping across him.  The last few weeks had been a blur, the events rushing by his mind, but not penetrating his muddled thoughts.

            Qui-Gon had recovered from most of his wounds, but gained many more in the wake of the awful news.  He had hardly slept since Tahl's visit as terrible nightmares plagued his restless slumber.

            The gazes of the Jedi were now stronger and laced with concern and sadness.  Qui-Gon didn't want their pity.  It wouldn't bring Obi-Wan back. 

            "Worried about you, we are," Yoda started, not pausing for introductions.

            "You shouldn't be. I have almost fully recovered from my wounds.  The ones that remain will be gone in a matter of days," Qui-Gon replied, keeping his face as still as stone.

            "We were not referring to your physical injuries, but the mental effects about the death of Obi-Wan," Mace Windu stated.  "Ra'ae and others in the Temple have noticed your behavior in the last few days.  They say that you have seemed distant from everyone and everything."

            "My apprentice was murdered.  I believe that that is reason enough for my recent actions," Qui-Gon said stoically.

            "Normal grieving, this is not," Yoda said with obvious concern.

            "I will be fine," Qui-Gon replied firmly.

            "Then we will not discuss the matter any further," Mace Windu said, not pressing the subject as signs of worry appeared on his face.

            Qui-Gon had little emotion apparent in his expression as he looked at Mace Windu.  The council member could see the great pain hidden beneath the cool exterior of the gaze.  Windu's grief for Obi-Wan and for his friend echoed the sadness in Qui-Gon's eyes as the look was broken.

"May the Force be with you," Windu said as Qui-Gon bowed, then left the room.

After he had left, Yoda and Windu stepped aside.

"He will need much time to heal," Windu said to the small master.

"Time he will have," Yoda answered as they watched Qui-Gon walking slowly down the hall.

Obi-Wan was jarred awake by the sound of repulsorlifts.  He immediately looked around and found he was still in the metal chair.  The ship began to land, though Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was on Kantreg.  If this is Kantreg, he thought, then I was asleep for many days. 

            Before he could assess the situation any longer, Croix burst into the room.  The man seemed to be in a calm mood, which Obi-Wan was thankful for.  He didn't want any more beatings like the previous ones he had been given.

            "Get up, slave," Croix told the Jedi, " we have arrived.  I don't want any trouble from you, got it?"

            "Yes," Obi-Wan answered cautiously.

            Croix slapped him sharply across the face, leaving Obi-Wan momentarily stunned.

            "Yes, what?" Croix said menacingly.

            "Yes, Master." Obi-Wan could feel blood run down his aching face as he uttered the proper title.  He waited until the pirate turned to wipe it off, not wanting to provoke any other blows.  The word had sounded wrong in Obi-Wan's mouth, as if he was eating a bitter food.  Qui-Gon is your master, his mind screamed, not that murderous pirate!

            "Go get your wounds mended at the infirmary.  Be back in two hours, or you will receive many more today," Croix threatened.

            "Yes, Master." Obi Wan tried to see straight as he limped into the street.

He asked a passerby where the infirmary was.  The being pointed to a small building that looked nearly run down, but after comparison so did all of the other buildings on the planet. 

            Obi-Wan looked around to survey the planet and its people.  The planet was rocky, with reddish-brown soil and numerous mountains.  He could see the dangers of the rough terrain and assumed that there were just as dangerous animals located in the dense forest opposite the mountains.   The people in town had skin the color of water, though there were some humanoids.  They looked poor with their dirty and tattered clothes.  Most of them hurried past Obi-Wan without giving him a glance, and the ones that did seemed to glare at him with a hatred, as if they knew he was a slave.

            Obi-Wan ducked out of the street into the side alley, following the directions he was given.  He found the infirmary in an abandoned alley.  There was a small door around Obi-Wan's height in the center of a stone wall with a small painted INFIRMARY on the space above it.

            Obi-Wan entered, and found a short woman standing in the center of a small room.  She came up to him carrying a syringe and a towel on a tray.

            "What do ya need?" she asked him.

            "Uh, I was wondering if you could heal these cuts," Obi-Wan said cautiously.  This seemed like a woman that you shouldn't provoke.

            "Sure.  Get on that table over there, I'll be there in a few moments." She directed him to a table in the corner that looked like it was about to collapse.

            Obi-Wan sat on the table lightly, fearing that it would break at any second.  The woman came over to the table before he had much time to worry about it, though.

            "I haven't seen you around here before.  You new here?" she inquired.

            "Yes, I just arrived.  My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan replied.  Though he usually wasn't quick to trust people he had just met, he felt that he could trust and talk to this woman.  " What's yours?"

            "People call me Sakde. Those wounds look pretty bad.  How'd you get 'em?"

            "I was disciplined by my master," Obi-Wan decided to get used to the title.

            "And that would be?" Sakde seemed more curious now.  She began to bandage a cut on his forehead.

            "A man named Croix," Obi-Wan said simply.  He watched for her reaction.

            It didn't seem good.  She started as a frown appeared on her face.

            "So, you another one of his?  Doesn't look like you got on his good side."

            "No, I didn't," Obi-Wan didn't like the way she was talking about Croix.  She seemed very mad and concerned.

            "I have some advice, kid.  Don't get on his bad side.  Most of the serious injuries I get in here are on his slaves, caused by him.  If you don't do what he says he will punish you, and even if you do, I have a feeling that you'll be here more than you'd like to be."       

            Sakde finished repairing the cuts and bandaging his sore back.

            "I'd give you some painkillers, but he'd just take them and beat you because of them.  If I were you, I'd get used to the pain and try to build up a resistance to it," she said with pity in her eyes.

            "Thank you for helping me, and for the advice.  I'll try to use it to my benefit.  I must ask you of one more thing, though," Obi-Wan stated.

            "And what would that be?" Sakde asked.

            "Can you tell me where Croix's residence is?  I need to be back soon." 

            "Of course.  You go straight towards the mountains to the edge of town, then turn right.  You will see a gigantic house.  That's what you're looking for," Sakde told him, though it was apparent that she didn't want him to go there.

            "Thank you.  I think I'll be seeing you soon if you're right," Obi-Wan told her as he ducked to go out of the tiny doorway.

            "You're welcome and take care of yourself," she said, smiling, "Come back and see me sometime, when you don't have to."

            Obi-Wan smiled, then ran down the alley, not wanting to waste time getting to the mansion.  He did not want to anger Croix more than necessary.

At least I have one friend here, Obi-Wan thought as he took one last look at the infirmary door.  Then he ran down the street, and towards his unknown and bleak future.

            Qui-Gon looked out at the bustling streets of Coruscant from a balcony in the Jedi Temple.  The young Padawan had loved to watch the busy city and all of its excitement, usually standing for hours just observing the flow of beings through the metropolis.  Qui-Gon wished that Obi-Wan could have been there with him.

 At the thought of his Padawan, Qui-Gon became somber, his sadness kept at bay in a corner of his mind.  He had agreed to wait for a matter of months before taking another mission after acknowledging his problem of managing his intense grief over the death of Obi-Wan.

As he looked out on a beautiful sunset above the swarm of clamoring people, Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan was one with the Force and that his apprentice would always be with him.  This didn't comfort him, however, but instead added to his sadness and rage at the injustice.  Even if his Padawan was one with the Force, Qui-Gon would rather have Obi-Wan with him here instead.

Qui-Gon broke his chain of thought and told himself that he should meditate to help soothe his strong emotions, though he dreaded to think about the incident any more.  After heaving a weary sigh, he retreated into his pitch-black room, letting the darkness swallow him, mirroring the heart wrenching pain that was threatening to overcome him.

         End Part 1