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.
Authors Note: I just wanted to thank everybody who reviewed this story, the reviews really helped. This part is around as long as the first, but the next part will be even longer, so it might take a little time before it's up. In this part, there is a lot of "Obi-torture" as my friend calls it, so if you don't like abuse to a character, turn back now. This is where the R rating comes from, so be warned. Anyway, I hope you like it and don't forget to keep the reviews coming. Thanks!
2nd Authors Note: Also thanks to Jasmine for the questions in her review and bringing them to my attention. The reason Obi-Wan didn't try to escape was that he was wearing a bracelet that would give him a drug overdose and kill him if he tried to escape. Sorry if it wasn't clear enough to understand.
8 Months Later
Obi-Wan Kenobi tossed the hair
out of his face as he lifted a heavy container onto his gaunt frame. He was at a warehouse in town on an errand
for Croix, receiving a shipment of whatever illegal material his master was
ordering this month. There was so much
contraband in the ruthless man's mansion that Obi-Wan thought the numerous
packages he had brought there in the eight months he'd been on Kantreg were
just a small part of Croix's fortune.
Obi-Wan began a rapid jog out
of the warehouse and down the dusty streets with the colossal box resting on
his shoulder. He couldn't stop to visit
his friend Sakde as he had planned, because the shipment had been late. He was supposed to be back at the mansion by
now.
The Padawan cringed at the
though of the punishment he would get for being this late. Croix wouldn't listen to excuses, Obi-Wan
knew that well. He also knew that he
would either be beaten by the enormous man or sent down to the dismal mines, or
both. The young Jedi hoped that Croix
was in a good mood, so that Obi-Wan wouldn't be sent down to the dark mines for
months, as Croix had always threatened. Obi-Wan already had rough and calloused
hands from the hard toil in the mines, and his ribs protruded, showing the lack
of food given out to the laborers.
Obi-Wan finally reached the
gates and started to sprint towards the mansion. As he got closer, he could hear a deafening voice shouting
angrily. His heart fell as he listened
to Croix screaming at a slave for spilling something on him. Croix was in a bad mood, but Obi-Wan didn't
want to delay the delivery any further. Obi-Wan walked inside with caution.
As he entered, Obi-Wan felt
the bracelet around his wrist prick him, injecting more of the drug that cut
him off from the Force. If only I could
get this off, Obi-Wan thought. He ached
to connect to the Force, and Qui-Gon, but it was not possible. He had tried every possible way to get it
off.
Obi-Wan's train of thought was
jarred, however, by a string of loud curses from the room in front of him. This wasn't a good sign for the punishment
ahead. He took a moment to prepare for
his painful fate and stepped into the room.
The first thing he saw was a
seething Croix who looked murderous as his gaze settled on Obi-Wan. The Padawan, although he had seen many evil
things in his time as a Jedi, couldn't help shuddering at the look. Obi-Wan paused for a short moment, but Croix
wasted no time in addressing the boy.
"Where were you, you worthless
piece of scum?" Croix thundered. Obi-Wan didn't say a word and hung his head to avoid provoking an attack
or angering Croix further. "You have
disobeyed me for the last time, slave. I will teach you to serve me yet," Croix growled, unraveling the ever
present whip from his belt. He advanced
menacingly towards Obi-Wan, who had to stop himself from cringing and backing
away.
The Jedi tried not to cry out
as the pirate raised the whip high into the eerily silent air, a black contrast
to the white ceiling. The weapon came
down with a crack on Obi-Wan's face, causing a deep cut that burned like fire
to appear over the boy's eye. Obi-Wan
sank to the floor in pain as his legs gave out and Croix lifted the whip again,
bringing down on the Padawan's forehead, near the previous blow. The boy curled up in a ball, trying to
avoid the threatening whip, but Croix took the opportunity to cut into
Obi-Wan's back, quickly turning it into a bloody mess.
At last, after a few minutes
that felt like years to Obi-Wan, Croix seemed to be satisfied with the
punishment. With a contented look that
construed his satisfaction at Obi-Wan's pain, Croix kicked the boy onto his
side.
"Get down to the mines,
scum. I'll be down to make sure you're
there." Croix started to stroll
away. He didn't look back as his victim
answered.
"Yes, master," Obi-Wan
whimpered, dizzy from the stinging cuts all over his body. He slowly picked himself up off of the
ground and limped out of the door. He
walked as well and as fast as he could out of the mansion and down the dusty
red roads to the nearby town. He knew
that he must get the bleeding stopped and the cuts bandaged before they became
infected.
As Obi-Wan hobbled into the
infirmary, he was greeted by his only true friend on Kantreg, a woman named
Sakde. He had met her in his first days
on the planet, and they had quickly become good friends. The boy had come to visit her many times
over the past months, not just to heal his frequent cuts and injuries due to
Croix's beatings, but also to talk. Obi-Wan sometimes thought he would lose his sanity if Sakde was not
available for heartfelt conversation.
Sakde didn't say a word as he
stumbled into the room and collapsed on the familiar table in the center of the
room. She hurried over and immediately
went to work, mending his torn flesh and preparing it to be stable enough for
work in the mines.
While she worked there was a
dead silence that filled the room. Sakde had not been surprised to see Obi-Wan there, as Croix had beaten
him mercilessly many times, causing endless visits to the infirmary. There was a sort of routine that they had
lapsed into, Sakde healing Obi-Wan quickly, who then gave a hurried thanks and
rushed to the mines, where he was usually sent after extensive punishments.
Sakde's heart ached for
Obi-Wan, but she could do nothing against a man as powerful and cunning as
Croix. The pirate had been known to
kill all of those who opposed him and even some of his friends who had angered
him. It was an unspoken rule on the
planet that you never got on Croix's bad side unless you wanted a death
sentence. Sakde wished that Obi-Wan
would find a way off of the planet before his evil master went too far, and
killed him.
As Sakde put the last bandage
in place, Obi-Wan slowly rocked up, then put on a spare slave's tunic. He slid off the table and shuffled towards
the door. Sakde opened the door for
him, noticing that blood was already soaking through the bandages inside his
shirt. She could do nothing, though,
because he was due in the mines soon, and there was no time to change the
bandages.
The
Padawan muttered his thanks through his swollen face as best he could, then
exited and started to walk to the main street. Sakde wished him luck and watched him walk towards the dank mines and the
dangers that awaited him. Obi-Wan's
form was outlined in the hellish red glow of Kantreg's sun, making it look like
he was covered in more blood than he already was. With a great sigh she closed the door and tried not to think of
what could happen to Obi-Wan every second of the day.
Qui-Gon Jinn stood in the
center of the Jedi council chamber. He
usually felt somewhat at ease in the great place with tall windows that gave a
beautiful view of the bustling city below. This time, however, the Jedi master could sense the tension and unease
coming from the council members sitting in a circle that surrounded him. Qui-Gon prepared himself for their words, as
it took something very wrong to cause the entire council of the most powerful
Jedi discomfort.
"A
mission for you, we have. Ready for it
are you?"
Yoda started in suddenly,
breaking the previous eerie silence. Qui-Gon masked his surprise and answered with confidence.
"Yes
master. I am ready." Yoda studied him for a moment at his words,
then spoke again.
"A difficult mission it will
be." Yoda looked grave. "Involves the pirates, it does."
Qui-Gon tried to hide his
distress at Yoda's words. He had
thought that he had recovered from Obi-Wan's death, but the statement hit him
like a ton of bricks. The memory of the
pirates filled him with disgust.
"We know that you had a bad
experience with them," Mace cut in," but you have firsthand knowledge of their
practices. We wouldn't assign this to
you if we thought that you couldn't carry it out, but we will understand if you
choose not to."
"I can do this," Qui-Gon
replied quickly, though his voice sounded empty and unconvincing in his own
ears. Inside he was seething at how
Mace Windu had spoken about Qui-Gon's previous encounters with the pirates with
a calm and everyday voice. The council
just nodded and started to brief him on his mission.
They continued, and instructed
him to infiltrate and befriend a known boss in the pirate's contraband and
slave trade organizations. Qui-Gon was
to use the Force to form an illusion around himself, causing his appearance to
change so he could pose as a pirate and sabotage the illegal slave trade. He was to free the known slaves, then report
back to the Council. Qui-Gon would be
the only knight sent because of the shortage of Jedi available, as most of them
were helping with a particularly bloody war on a distant planet.
After he had been filled in
and dismissed, Qui-Gon left the council chamber with long strides. As the thick doors slammed shut, the Jedi started
down the hall, his step faltering once at a stray thought of his deceased
Padawan. His feet felt as if they were
filled with lead as he trudged to his quarters. Qui-Gon's heart was heavy as he truly came to the realization
that he would be facing the pirates again.
The
Jedi sighed as a memory of Obi-Wan forced itself into his mind. The boy would have been eager to stop the
injustice of the pirates. At that
moment, Qui-Gon knew that he would be able to go on the mission. He would finish what his Padawan died trying
to do.
Obi-Wan coughed uncontrollably
as a cloud of soot came down on his face for what seemed like the millionth
time that day. The labor was exhausting
and he had to use all of his strength just to lift the mining tools in this sector. In addition to being put at the lowest and
most dangerous part of the mine, Obi-Wan was hindered by the new injuries
scattered about his body. Sakde had
done a good job in wrapping him up, but nothing could stop the aching pain he
was feeling every second.
The
Padawan was still waiting for Croix to come and check on him, anticipating
further punishment. Obi-Wan listened
for whispered rumors about the pirate's whereabouts, never asking someone for
fear of being beaten for talking. Another slave had told him that Croix was coming to survey the mine
after he met a new pirate coming to the planet. Obi-Wan inwardly cringed at the thought of another slaver
accompanying Croix in his daily assaults.
He felt a twinge of fear, but quickly restrained it and
forced it away. A Jedi didn't fear
things like this, but accepted them. Even death was to be accepted, a teaching that the Jedi adhered to. Obi-Wan remembered his lessons at the Temple
as well as he could. Even if he could
never escape the rotten planet, he would live there as a Jedi.
Qui-Gon
made sure that his appearance was changed completely by the Force as he stepped
closer to his ship's exit. He now had
short black hair and looked clean-shaven. Qui-Gon now looked ten years younger, with black clothing that looked
nothing like his usual Jedi garb.
He had just landed on Kantreg,
a forsaken-looking planet that gave a grim impression and feeling with its
dusty red appearance. This projected gloominess started to creep into the
master's mood as he calmed himself with the Force and stepped into the blazing
heat of the planet's sun.
Qui-Gon
shielded his eyes as he went to greet the man standing at the end of the
landing platform. The man was obviously
Croix, the pirate Qui-Gon was supposed to contact. The man's height and air of authority gave him away, as did the
slave hunched over behind him. The
pirate strode up with a greasy smile and shook Qui-Gon's hand.
"I
assume you're Tork. Welcome to
Kantreg. I'm Croix."
"Good
to be here. I've heard a great deal
about you. Your reputation is well
known where I'm from. How's the trade
doing?" Qui-Gon started in quickly.
"Pretty
good, except for this little shit that keeps annoying me," Croix's face began
to show his rage as he clenched his fists. "I still have to pay him back for a stunt he pulled. I'll give him something to straighten him
out."
Qui-Gon,
hearing the threat in the other man's voice, felt sorry for the slave in
question. The Jedi had to hide his
revulsion of the cruel pirate as Croix started to smirk. Qui-Gon decided to get to the basis of his
mission and changed the subject while attempting a fake grin.
"Yeah,
I bet you will. Do you think I can see
the mine sometime today?"
Croix
looked surprised. "You want to today,
after that flight? I guess it would be
fine. I can show you my operations and
take care of that problem too."
"Sounds
good to me," Qui-Gon answered with a shrug, "When can we start?"
"We can
stop by for an initial look now, if you want. Come this way."
Qui-Gon
followed Croix down some precarious-looking stairs to a waiting
landspeeder. As they rode, Qui-Gon
surveyed the land as he reached into his pocket to make sure that he still had
the comlink to contact the Council with and his ever-present lightsaber. After locating them he sat motionless,
memorizing his surroundings with the Force in case he needed to remember escape
routes that would be useful in the future.
This
planning was interrupted as the landspeeder came to a sudden stop outside of a
desolate, yet busy, mine. Slaves were
scurrying in and out of the dirty entrance carrying heavy tools , as well as
pushing carts. Overseers were
supervising from watchtowers, their blasters apparent on their sides. Their cruel visages displayed their character
as their harsh gazes swept over the workers.
As soon
as Croix and Qui-Gon jumped out of the landspeeder, a great turmoil struck the
camp. Some slave drivers retreated into
the mine to motivate the slaves with whips to work harder in order to make the
slavers look better. Qui-Gon watched as
the slaves began to move faster, trying to avoid any punishment that came their
way.
Croix
approached the head slaver and towered above him, using his height to
intimidate the smaller man.
"Where
is that slave I sent you earlier? The
pain in the ass boy."
"He-he's
down in the lower mine, sir, jus as you ordered." The overseer trembled in the steel gaze of his master.
"Well,
get him. Now." Croix's eyebrows lowered dangerously.
"Yes,
sir!" The man's eyes became round and
large as he ran to find the marked slave.
Qui-Gon
stepped up next to Croix as he watched the mine in action. "Not a bad operation you've got here. Any problems with it?"
"This
slave is my biggest problem. You're
welcome to help with that."
Qui-Gon
spent the next few minutes trying to think of a plausible excuse to decline the
man's offer without blowing his cover, but was interrupted by the returning
guard.
"Here
'e is sir."
The
guard was dragging a boy who apparently couldn't walk very well on his
own. The slave was wearing the rags of
a servant that were even more worn out than usual, a testament to his frequent
whippings. The slave looked to be in
his teens, with shaggy hair that fell into his face and eyes. Qui-Gon looked at the boy intensely. He's almost the same height as Ob-NO! Qui-Gon stopped himself. You have to let go. His attention went back to Croix, who had
thrown the boy to the ground.
"You
worthless, scummy, piece of shit. I'm
sick of your disobedience. It's time
you learned your place in life," the pirate snarled.
He
kicked the defenseless boy on his back, where previous injuries were
located. The slave only allowed a small
whimper to escape his lips at the searing pain that threatened to overtake him. Croix, not pleased at the boy's reaction
started to kick him mercilessly with ruthless blows.
After a
few minutes of the torture, Croix stopped and spit on the boy who had rolled up
in a ball to escape the brunt of the attack. Croix turned to Qui-Gon.
"Your turn,
my friend. Give the scum his due."
Qui-Gon's
spirit fell. If he refused, Croix would
become suspicious and it could endanger the entire mission. The lives of all of the slaves relied on the
mission, but Qui-Gon couldn't help the dread building up in his gut. Should he risk the mission by refusing to
hurt the defenseless boy?
The Jedi master surveyed his
options and with a heavy heart walked over to the boy. He sent the slave healing waves from the
Force to try to relieve some of the boy's pain. Qui-Gon was inwardly cringing and apologizing for what he was
about to do. He wouldn't beat the boy
with all of his strength, but he had to make it look somewhat believable.
Qui-Gon lightly shoved the boy
onto his side with his large boot. As
Croix watched expectantly, the Jedi kicked the boy hard in the gut. Though it wasn't the worst Qui-Gon could
make it, the boy's scarred face twisted into a grimace as he rolled onto his
side. The slave let out a moan, making
Qui-Gon nearly drop his disguise down, his soul shocked to the core that he was
doing this.
The master kept going, kicking
the defenseless body while still sending healing thoughts down to it. He was surprised that the boy seemed to be
receiving them well, as if he had done it before. Croix started to laugh as Qui-Gon picked up the slave and made
their faces equal. The boy's feet
dangled inches above the ground as the Jedi drew his arm back to punch him as
lightly as he could. He was hoping that
this would be enough for Croix, so he could leave the boy alone. Croix, however, laughed hysterically as his
face showed his menace.
"See what happens when you
disobey, scum? Do you see,
Obi-Wan?" His gravelly voice drew out
the boy's name like a curse.
Qui-Gon started
at his Padawan's name, nearly dropping him to the ground. His heart clenched and his body went stiff
as he gazed at the boy in front of him. For a moment their eyes met.
No.
Qui-Gon immediately recognized
his Padawan, though the pale-blue eyes looked different, showing deep pain and
suffering instead of the usual curiosity and happiness. Qui-Gon was overjoyed, but it was marred by
the realization of what he had just done. Guilt washed through his body as he looked at the evidence of Obi-Wan's
suffering.
"What're you waiting for? Finish him off!" Croix's fierce voice echoed in Qui-Gon's ears.
"Not worth my
time." It took all of Qui-Gon's will to
throw Obi-Wan to the ground. He was
happy to see that Obi-Wan had passed out, though, ensuring that the boy
wouldn't feel much pain until he woke up. The wheels in the Jedi's head turned, trying to find a way to save
Obi-Wan from Croix before the boy was beaten again. Qui-Gon turned to face Croix. "What the hell. That was
fun. I'll take 'im off your hands, see
if I can make him learn some things. How about it?" Croix thought for
a moment.
"Sure, why not? I sure as hell don't want him."
"Thanks." Croix would never
know how much Qui-Gon meant that. The
Jedi bent down and picked up the ailing boy, placing him on his shoulder. "I need to go get a collar for him from my
ship. You mind if I go get it now?"
"I don't mind. I'll meet you at my house for dinner when
you get back. Just so you know, you
need to keep that bracelet on his arm refilled daily to cut off his connection
to the…oh shit, what was that called? The Force or something. He won't
take it off because it'll kill him with another drug if he tries to. I'll give you some of the drug to hold you
until you get more."
"Nice touch," Qui-Gon gave his
best fake grin. "I'll remember that. See you in a couple of hours. I'll just walk back."
"Suit yourself. Then we can discuss that new shipment of
slaves next month." Qui-Gon nodded and
turned away from the mine. "Weird guy,"
Croix muttered under his breath.
After he was out of Croix's
sight, Qui-Gon began to run towards the city, still carrying the limp Padawan
over his shoulder. When he reached it
he asked a weary looking person where the medical facilities were. A pointing finger answered his question,
causing the Jedi to take off in that direction in a full sprint.
Qui-Gon found the place and
frantically knocked on the door, shifting the boy in his arms so he could get
to the door. When no one answered, the
Jedi master kicked it in as Obi-Wan let out a pitiful groan and Qui-Gon's panic
took control of his body. He ran in the
room to face a startled-looking woman with bluish skin standing by a
table. She turned to face him, surprise
coloring her features.
"What
the hell do you think you're doing, you ja-," her gaze shifted downward,
"Obi-Wan!" She ran over and took him
from Qui-Gon, then gently placed the injured boy on a table. She immediately went to work, carefully
removing the boy's well-worn tunic and gathering the supplies she needed on a
gray metal tray.
Qui-Gon,
now forgotten, walked over to the table and put one of his large hands on his
Padawan's forehead, which was covered in dirt and sweat. As the Jedi master looked over Obi-Wan's
injuries, tears came to his eyes and guilt took over, coursing through his
veins like paralyzing ice. Qui-Gon
couldn't believe that he had just had a part in the brutal beating of the boy
that he considered to be his son.
The
Jedi's gaze analyzed the injuries with an experienced glance. Obi-Wan looked
like he had some broken ribs, or something close to it, and bruises littered his face and arms, as
well as his chest. His ankle seemed to
be twisted and blood dripped out of his nose and the corner of his mouth,
running slowly down his face. Qui-Gon
took his robe and gently wiped the thick liquid from Obi-Wan's face, trying not
to touch the numerous bruises there that were scattered like a minefield.
The
woman returned with the tray and started to mend a few stray cuts on Obi-Wan's
torso. She lifted him up by his
shoulders as she ran gauze around his middle to help the injured ribs. Qui-Gon saw the scars from previous
whippings that covered the Padawan's back, not leaving any skin untouched. Thinking of the pain that came with them,
Qui-Gon inadvertently flinched, then ran his had through Obi-Wan's hair, trying
to ease some of his pain with healing waves of the Force.
The
Jedi master watched as the healer finished and put away her things, then put a
blanket snugly around Obi-Wan. Then she
turned towards Qui-Gon, the expected grief and rage apparent in her gaze. Qui-Gon didn't expect her next move and
stepped back in surprise as she launched herself at him.
"You
bastard! How could you do this to him,
you sick son of a bitch?" Qui-Gon
blocked the fist that was aimed at his face and grabbed her other hand. After latching on to her flailing arm he
turned her around and locked her arms behind her, then tried to talk to her.
"Calm
down. I didn't do this to him, I'm here
to help him. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn
and I'm here to-" She interrupted him as she abruptly ceased to struggle.
"Qui-Gon
Jinn? Are you Obi-Wan's master? The Jedi?" Her hopeful tone was obvious.
"Yes,"
he answered simply.
"Thank
the Gods," she exclaimed as he let go of her. "Sorry 'bout that. If I had
known it was you, I would've gone after you. He talks about you all the time when he's in here."
"It's
all right," Qui-Gon said with a small smile, "I understand." He glanced over to the table. "It looks like I owe you a great deal
Miss..." She frowned.
"Name's
Sakde. You could put it that way. Obi's been in an' out of here for
months. I've never seen him this bad
though. What happened?"
Qui-Gon
opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words. The usually calm and collected man debated
what to reveal to Sakde. He decided to
tell her of his mission and what happened. She could possibly help him in carrying the mission out.
"I was
sent to help stop the slave trade here. I'm supposed to befriend a slaver named Croix." Sakde recoiled in disgust.
"Now
there's a bastard. Is that who did
this?" She motioned to Obi-Wan's
sleeping form with her head. Qui-Gon
paled as the memory flashed through his mind.
"Yes. I went with Croix to the mines to see if
there was any way to help the slaves. He brought Obi-Wan up and started to…do this to him. He told me to take a turn and I couldn't
refuse and endanger my mission, so I-" He swallowed hard as Sakde put a comforting
hand on his arm. "Well, this happened
and then I realized it was Obi-Wan. Croix gave him to me as a slave."
Sakde's
eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of the pirate and his atrocities. Qui-Gon's gaze went past her and caught
sight of a chrono on the wall. He
realized that he was due to meet Croix in less than an hour.
"I must
go," he said quickly, "Croix is expecting me. I must go and look at the mines again." Sakde stepped forward.
"I
understand. I'll keep 'im safe for
you." Qui-Gon looked into her eyes and
realized that she would do anything to keep this promise. He immediately trusted her.
"All
right," the Jedi started toward the door, "I'll be back as soon as I can. And if he wakes up, please tell him that I'm
coming."
"Of
course," Sakde answered. She opened the door for him. "He'll be here when you get back. Good luck."
Qui-Gon
nodded his thanks, then focused on the Force and raised his illusionary
disguise. Sakde gasped at the change
and watched wordlessly as he strolled out the door, towards the mines. Then she shut the door and went over to
Obi-Wan, already wishing for Qui-Gon's return.