The Marionette's Dance
CHAPTER TWO
Disclaimer: As before, I don't own em and I'm just playing with em. Don't think about suing me, I don't have anything and what little I do have, you can't have. :P
Takes place 9 years before TPM (Obi is 16)
Special thanks to my sisterS/beta readerS, Debbie, Jessica, and Jane. Special thanks goes out to all my friends and family that encouraged me to keep writing and helped me with their ideas and feedback.
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Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan shudder in his arms. The cold was settling over the two, it's icy essence creeping in and chilling the two huddled together in the corner. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan stir, slowly raising himself up to see his master protecting him. His eyes fought to focus on the elder.
"Feeling better?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I have a headache and I can't focus my vision." Obi-Wan answered.
"It's from the electric shock. It will come back, with time." Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan, allowing him to sit up.
"How long was I out?"
"A few hours. I was starting to get concerned." Qui-Gon smiled slightly.
Obi-Wan barely had a chance to sit up and clear the fogginess from his mind, when the doors opened up to reveal several tall men dressed in long white coats. They entered the room and two reached out for Obi-Wan, bringing him roughly to his feet.
Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and began slicing at the intruders holding onto his apprentice. Three men in white went down sobbing and writhing, missing at least one body part. The others retreated to allow the guards to enter to subdue the prisoners. A tall, skinny man in white stood at the door and pushed a button on a small gray box, taking both Jedi down to the ground, grabbing their heads in agony. Their lightsabers were confiscated while they cried out in pain.
Several guards grabbed Obi-Wan and dragged his semiconscious body away, leaving Qui-Gon writhing on the floor. The guards quickly exited the cell and it was once again locked. Qui-Gon shook uncontrollably, deep tremors racking his body unmercifully. It took several deep breaths to calm the sensations down, before sitting upright and looking around for his padawan. His heart leapt up into his throat at the realization that he wasn't there.
Qui-Gon forced his wobbling knees to co-operate, and shakingly rose to his feet. He sent out a force message to Obi-Wan, but there was no response. Obi-Wan was either unconscious or being shielded by some unknown force. Qui-Gon spasmed and weakly leaned against a wall, sliding down its cool surface and landing on the floor. A tear trickled down his eye, realizing that his padawan was alone, taken away, and Qui-Gon was helpless to prevent it. He cursed the maker of the collar.
Obi-Wan was carried into a large laboratory and placed non-too gently down on a table. Through the thick haze that clouded his mind, he could fell the cold of the metal through his clothes and he slightly shuddered against the freeze. He felt his wrists and ankles bound tightly and wide straps placed across his knees, stomach and chest.
Obi-Wan's head was still swimming from the electric shock he received, but he was able to sense someone standing close to him. The energy this person was emitting was dark and menacing, causing Obi-Wan to mentally flinch. He struggled against his restraints and felt another jolt, less severe, course through him.
"Hold still or I'll knock you out again." came a low raspy voice.
"What are you doing? Where's my master?" Obi-Wan asked, raising his groggy head to find the owner of the voice.
"Your master is safe back in the cell. You however, aren't in such a good situation. There are a few things I'd like your help on, young Jedi." The man hissed.
"I won't co-operate. You'll just have to get along without me!" Obi-Wan clenched his teeth as his body strained from exhaustion and the torture the collar had inflicted.
The man stepped forward; the light behind him cast a shadow over his face, "Oh, you misunderstand. You are going to help me, just not willingly. I need to have someone to test my newest development on, and I've chosen you. I need someone strong and healthy to test. The last ones weren't as fit as you. They didn't last long, as you might have guessed."
Obi-Wan hid his fear and nervousness. He up stared at the leering man, "You will pay for what you've done. The Jedi will hunt you down for attacking one of their own! If you attack one of us, you get answered by the entire Order!"
"Oh my young friend, not to worry. The Jedi have been informed that their representatives have been killed along with other hostages. They aren't worried about your health right now. And believe me, when they come to claim the bodies, we'll give them your remains." The man explained then nodded to an assistant.
The assistant cut away Obi-Wan's tunic, exposing his upper body to the unforgiving cold metal table. Her expression was emotionless as she jabbed a long needle into Obi-Wan's arm, causing him to flinch slightly. The syringe filled up with blood, then a small tube like thing extended down towards the skin. Obi-Wan watched it intently, seeing it come to rest directly above his skin. The tube opened up to reveal a small razor like instrument that began to scrap a section of skin off of Obi-Wan's upper arm.
Obi-Wan fought back the screams as the miniature machine peeled off a small layer of skin, scraping and grinding into his flesh. He ground his teeth together, trying desperately to call on the force to block the pain, but was still hindered by the shock from the collar.
The man watching the padawan writhe on the table only snickered and nodded to the assistant. The assistant withdrew the needle and walked away, placing the skin sample in a medical scanner. The strange man went to stand be her side and waited as the display brought up the information he was seeking.
"Excellent. Just excellent. Give him the injection, 1 millimeter to start." The man ordered.
The assistant grabbed a smaller needle and walked to Obi-Wan. She jammed the needle into his forearm, hearing him cry out at the pain, slowly injected the serum into him.
Obi-Wan felt pain. Pain like he has never experienced before in his life. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled from side to side as sharp white hot searing ripped through his veins. He felt his heart beating rapidly, dangerously pounding as fast as it possibly could, throbbing off his ribs and echoing into his ears. The extreme pain spread from his veins to his nerves and erratic spasms wracked his body, causing him to convulse on the table.
The straps held him in place as he twitched and cried out. White teeth were clenched and bared as the padawan arched up from the table, his exposed body showing every well-defined line of his lithe physique. A cold sweat broke out and he labored for air, noticing that the much-needed oxygen was coming in too slowly. He gasped urgently, then felt a breathing mask placed over his face. His breathing slowed, and he settled against the table, feeling unconsciousness starting to claim him.
The man watched happily as the young Jedi seizured and sensed his anguish. He grabbed the gray box and gave Obi-Wan a shock, strong enough to keep him awake.
Obi-Wan's eyes widened and he felt his head bobbing uncontrollably on the table, unable to find any semblance of stability. He felt the room spinning and a tremendous pounding was still present in his head. He choked back tears and felt his body trembling with exhaustion, cold, and fear.
The man leaned over Obi-Wan's body and motioned to a guard, "Take him back to his cell. I think he's had enough for today, we'll resume tomorrow."
The guard nodded and unstrapped Obi-Wan and hoisted him up onto his feet. Another guard grabbed him from the other side and assisted the guard in dragging the now unconscious Jedi back to his master.
"Keep a watch over him. We don't want to lose him before we can get enough data." The man ordered to the scientist, which nodded her head silently in answer.
* * * * *
Several hours had passed in silence as Qui-Gon waited, trying desperately to sense his padawan and send a message of hope and encouragement. Emptiness was the only response to his pleas.
Anger, pain, failure, filled his senses, and he fought to control them. Even simple meditation was difficult to do with his mind reeling with all the possibilities of danger his padawan could be facing.
The door to the cell opened, Qui-Gon was on his feet, anticipating them to come in and rough him up for his earlier actions. He fell to his knees when the guards dropped the unconscious form of his padawan on the floor. Qui-Gon scanned Obi-Wan's body for extent of his injuries, wincing at the mental and physical anguish he was reliving in his unconsciousness.
Qui-Gon picked up his padawan carefully and placed Obi-Wan's head against his chest once more, this time, crying at the pain that Obi-Wan had suffered. He noticed the bloody wound on Obi-Wan's arm, and tried to focus on the force to stop the bleeding. After several tries, he finally was able to seal the wound and began to send healing waves to speed his recovery.
Suppressing his distraught emotions, Qui-Gon focused on Obi-Wan's body, and aided in the regeneration of his damaged tissue. Obi-Wan would occasionally jerk, like animals' nerves twitching as they die. Periodically, deep shudders shook the form of his padawan and he could hear Obi-Wan's breath becoming ragged.
Evening fell with Obi-Wan's vitals returning to normal, thanks to a determined master and the force. Obi-Wan was stable enough to allow the master some time to think, and to rest. Qui-Gon leaned against the wall and silently cried into the darkness, his body feeling the effects of his constant vigil and the healing energy focused from the force to ease Obi-Wan's suffering.
* * * * * *
A burst of bright light flooding the cell awoke Qui-Gon with a start and he clutched Obi-Wan's still form against him protectively. A guard entered, carrying the control box and wearing an evil grin. He motioned for Qui-Gon to abandon Obi-Wan's body, but he refused and held Obi-Wan closer, staring at the guard maliciously.
The guard hit the button and Qui-Gon called out, trying desperately to call on the force to help him. The guard increased the power and Qui-Gon clutched Obi-Wan's body tighter, yelling through clenched teeth, "Why don't you take me? I will go willingly, just let my padawan go and don't hurt him anymore."
The guard hit maximum power and Qui-Gon slumped to the floor, hitting his head against the hard surface, and splitting his temple open. Blood began to pool along his face. His hands were still tightly holding on to Obi-Wan and it took all the guards strength to pry his hands away. The guard dragged Obi-Wan's body back to the lab and placed him on the table, once again securing the young Jedi.
The dark man leaned over Obi-Wan's face, "Hey boy, wake up. Wake up!" His impatience got the better of him and he began slapping Obi-Wan, each slap becoming harder than the last.
Obi-Wan awoke to his feel his face stinging and his vision blurry. He tried to focus, but there was little effect. His voice was raspy as he spoke, "What happened? Where is Qui-Gon?"
"Your master deserted you to allow me to do my work." The man said into Obi-Wan's ear. "You were helping me with an experiment."
Obi-Wan shook his head and whimpered, "No, it can't be true. My master wouldn't leave me. You're lying. I don't know you. Where's my master?"
"Maybe we should wait until we're sure he's stronger." The assistant interrupted.
"No," the man said staring at Obi-Wan, "We'll continue. If he dies, then we'll just find another, and another. You know the routine, now prepare him for the next stage."
The assistant nodded and went to a cold storage and retrieved several vials. She removed one and inserted a needle into the greenish liquid, withdrawing a full amount. She pressed on Obi-Wan's stomach, searching for a vein, and upon finding it, plunged it deep into his midsection.
Obi-Wan screamed and tears ran down the side of his face. The liquid stung and burned as it coursed through his veins. Roaring flows of lava-hot pain branched out to his fatigued body, making even the cold table feel like it was melting to his heated flesh. His body adjusted to the heat and he called onto the force with all his might to channel the great power tearing him apart internally.
The man watched curiously, "Interesting. Very interesting. Give him another one."
The assistant looked over at him, her concern showing, "But....but, it will kill him. He's not strong enough to fight off both strands."
The man reached over, grabbing her throat, "I said inject both. I did not ask for your opinion. Do it now, or suffer your fate later. Do I make myself clear?"
The assistant gasped out, "Yes, Yes, Ok, I'll give him the other strand."
"Good, we have an understanding." The man said, releasing her from his hold.
The assistant returned to the cold storage and withdrew a yellowish substance, soon injecting it into Obi-Wan's stomach.
The Jedi howled in pain, and sucked for air, convulsions racking his body once again. With fists clenched, mouth open in silent screams, and spasms so powerful they caused every tendon and muscle to tighten and accent the youngsters body. His eyes widened, strained, protruding, and looked around at nothingness, seemingly to plead for help. The assistant placed the breathing mask over his face again, but there was no response to the oxygen. Obi-Wan shuddered a few times, banging his head, hands, and feet against the table, then fell limp.
The assistant checked his vitals, "He's alive, but barely."
"Take him to an observation room. Inform his master that he's dead and keep him locked up in solitary." The man ordered.
Guards rushed out of the room to carry out their orders, and several other assistants took Obi-Wan to a small room. They hooked him up on monitors and had several others on stand-by, watching over him in case they would be needed.
One of the assistants placed a thin sheet over Obi-Wan. It was automatically soaked with sweat and clung to his fevered body. Obi-Wan thrashed around on the medtable, and moaned about not being hurt anymore, his eyes fluttered and his breathing was erratic. One of the assistance looked over to the others, her face sad and sympathizing.
"What have we done?"
* * * * * * * * *
The guards opened Qui-Gon's cell and one of the assistants strode easily into the small room. Qui-Gon was still lying prone on the floor, dried blood stained his clothes and ground. The assistant kicked the still form, bringing him around to consciousness.
Qui-Gon woke up and quickly remembered what happened. He sat upright staring at the man that had taken away his apprentice. "Where is Obi-Wan? What did you do with him?"
"Oh, well, unfortunately he didn't survive the tests we had planned, so they are throwing his body out with the rest of the garbage." The man snickered.
The words stung at Qui-Gon's heart and revenge filled his eyes, and rage control his actions. He lunged forward, striking the man across the throat, crushing his windpipe. The guard choked and spluttered, staggering around the cell, clutching at his now bruised throat.
As soon as the guards heard the commotion, they turned to enter, only to come face to face with a grief stricken master. Qui-Gon punched one guard, sending him flying backwards, and elbowed another guard in the nose. The guard fell back dead, having the cartilage shoved up into his head from the force of the impact. The guard that was punched reached for the control box, and Qui-Gon stood behind him and wrapped his arms around the man's neck.
"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon asked the guard smoothly.
"He's being kept in the observation room on level 2. He was alive when we left him, unfortunately." The guard spat.
Qui-Gon's face remained passive as he twisted and crossed arms, snapping the guards' neck with a loud CRACK. He grabbed his and Obi-Wan's lightsabers that were hanging on the guards' side and quickly checked the hall for possible reinforcements.
Everything was clear.
He headed down the corridor to the lift, and took the lift up to the level 2. The doors whooshed open to reveal a deserted hallway.
As he neared, he sensed Obi-Wan's force imprint, though it was very weak and fluctuation wildly. He stopped in front of a door and with a flick of his saber, the controls relinquished their locking ability and allowed the door to slide open. Qui-Gon stepped inside, saber ready, only to see several women in white coats surrounding the young Jedi on a table.
"Step away from him! NOW!" Qui-Gon commanded.
"Please, let us help. He was subjected to deadly strains of bacteria and if he doesn't get the antidotes, he'll die." One of the ladies pleaded. Her face showed worry and concern.
Qui-Gon tentatively approached them and stood beside them to check on Obi-Wan's condition. He was surprised and outraged, watching as a streak of dark liquid coursed it's way through Obi-Wan circulatory system. Several of Obi-Wan's veins and arteries would swell up with the blackened color as it snaked its way through the complex system, then almost completely disappear as the liquid passed, the process resembling fast tunneling worms.
Obi-Wan convulsed slightly, knocking his head and shoulders hard on the table, then lay completely still. His breath would come in long, deep, sighs, then quick and raspy. His body repeated the chain of events several times, as the liquid would slither through his veins, towards his brain.
"He is stronger than we had hoped for. That's why the strain hadn't killed him. He was able to fight it off better than anyone we've given it to." one of the women said, setting up needles and several small multicolored serum bottles.
"Without these, he WILL die. The pathogen in his system now is the strongest one we have developed. He doesn't have much time." The woman explained.
"Do what you can." Qui-Gon nodded, knowing the women spoke the truth.
Three of the white-coat donned women began giving small injections into Obi-Wan's skin, infusing the drugs slowly into his blood stream. The injections seemed to slow down the darkened substance as it began to counteract the foreign agents in his system.
"You mean to tell me that YOU infected him and others with some sort of virus?" Qui-Gon asked astounded.
"It was necessary. We needed subjects that were pure and could withstand the serums." The women started saying. "We had to have a specimen that could give us accurate results without any other possible contagion."
"What are you talking about? You needed a specimen? You used people like unintelligent life forms, discarding them as you see fit! You should be ashamed or yourselves!" Qui-Gon said disgusted.
"LOOK, WE ARE AT WAR HERE. We aren't ashamed for what we did. It was for the greater good. I don't need a Jedi's forgiveness, I done what I thought was right!!" One of the ladies shot back.
"What do you mean, at war? I was at the peace signing a couple of days ago. Both sides agreed to a cease-fire. There hasn't been any hostilities for over a month." Qui-Gon explained.
The ladies raised their eyebrows at the seemingly ignorant Jedi before them. "You think we are war with one another? Oh no my dear friend, we are fighting against something a lot more terrifying."
CHAPTER TWO
Disclaimer: As before, I don't own em and I'm just playing with em. Don't think about suing me, I don't have anything and what little I do have, you can't have. :P
Takes place 9 years before TPM (Obi is 16)
Special thanks to my sisterS/beta readerS, Debbie, Jessica, and Jane. Special thanks goes out to all my friends and family that encouraged me to keep writing and helped me with their ideas and feedback.
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Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan shudder in his arms. The cold was settling over the two, it's icy essence creeping in and chilling the two huddled together in the corner. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan stir, slowly raising himself up to see his master protecting him. His eyes fought to focus on the elder.
"Feeling better?" Qui-Gon asked.
"I have a headache and I can't focus my vision." Obi-Wan answered.
"It's from the electric shock. It will come back, with time." Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan, allowing him to sit up.
"How long was I out?"
"A few hours. I was starting to get concerned." Qui-Gon smiled slightly.
Obi-Wan barely had a chance to sit up and clear the fogginess from his mind, when the doors opened up to reveal several tall men dressed in long white coats. They entered the room and two reached out for Obi-Wan, bringing him roughly to his feet.
Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and began slicing at the intruders holding onto his apprentice. Three men in white went down sobbing and writhing, missing at least one body part. The others retreated to allow the guards to enter to subdue the prisoners. A tall, skinny man in white stood at the door and pushed a button on a small gray box, taking both Jedi down to the ground, grabbing their heads in agony. Their lightsabers were confiscated while they cried out in pain.
Several guards grabbed Obi-Wan and dragged his semiconscious body away, leaving Qui-Gon writhing on the floor. The guards quickly exited the cell and it was once again locked. Qui-Gon shook uncontrollably, deep tremors racking his body unmercifully. It took several deep breaths to calm the sensations down, before sitting upright and looking around for his padawan. His heart leapt up into his throat at the realization that he wasn't there.
Qui-Gon forced his wobbling knees to co-operate, and shakingly rose to his feet. He sent out a force message to Obi-Wan, but there was no response. Obi-Wan was either unconscious or being shielded by some unknown force. Qui-Gon spasmed and weakly leaned against a wall, sliding down its cool surface and landing on the floor. A tear trickled down his eye, realizing that his padawan was alone, taken away, and Qui-Gon was helpless to prevent it. He cursed the maker of the collar.
Obi-Wan was carried into a large laboratory and placed non-too gently down on a table. Through the thick haze that clouded his mind, he could fell the cold of the metal through his clothes and he slightly shuddered against the freeze. He felt his wrists and ankles bound tightly and wide straps placed across his knees, stomach and chest.
Obi-Wan's head was still swimming from the electric shock he received, but he was able to sense someone standing close to him. The energy this person was emitting was dark and menacing, causing Obi-Wan to mentally flinch. He struggled against his restraints and felt another jolt, less severe, course through him.
"Hold still or I'll knock you out again." came a low raspy voice.
"What are you doing? Where's my master?" Obi-Wan asked, raising his groggy head to find the owner of the voice.
"Your master is safe back in the cell. You however, aren't in such a good situation. There are a few things I'd like your help on, young Jedi." The man hissed.
"I won't co-operate. You'll just have to get along without me!" Obi-Wan clenched his teeth as his body strained from exhaustion and the torture the collar had inflicted.
The man stepped forward; the light behind him cast a shadow over his face, "Oh, you misunderstand. You are going to help me, just not willingly. I need to have someone to test my newest development on, and I've chosen you. I need someone strong and healthy to test. The last ones weren't as fit as you. They didn't last long, as you might have guessed."
Obi-Wan hid his fear and nervousness. He up stared at the leering man, "You will pay for what you've done. The Jedi will hunt you down for attacking one of their own! If you attack one of us, you get answered by the entire Order!"
"Oh my young friend, not to worry. The Jedi have been informed that their representatives have been killed along with other hostages. They aren't worried about your health right now. And believe me, when they come to claim the bodies, we'll give them your remains." The man explained then nodded to an assistant.
The assistant cut away Obi-Wan's tunic, exposing his upper body to the unforgiving cold metal table. Her expression was emotionless as she jabbed a long needle into Obi-Wan's arm, causing him to flinch slightly. The syringe filled up with blood, then a small tube like thing extended down towards the skin. Obi-Wan watched it intently, seeing it come to rest directly above his skin. The tube opened up to reveal a small razor like instrument that began to scrap a section of skin off of Obi-Wan's upper arm.
Obi-Wan fought back the screams as the miniature machine peeled off a small layer of skin, scraping and grinding into his flesh. He ground his teeth together, trying desperately to call on the force to block the pain, but was still hindered by the shock from the collar.
The man watching the padawan writhe on the table only snickered and nodded to the assistant. The assistant withdrew the needle and walked away, placing the skin sample in a medical scanner. The strange man went to stand be her side and waited as the display brought up the information he was seeking.
"Excellent. Just excellent. Give him the injection, 1 millimeter to start." The man ordered.
The assistant grabbed a smaller needle and walked to Obi-Wan. She jammed the needle into his forearm, hearing him cry out at the pain, slowly injected the serum into him.
Obi-Wan felt pain. Pain like he has never experienced before in his life. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled from side to side as sharp white hot searing ripped through his veins. He felt his heart beating rapidly, dangerously pounding as fast as it possibly could, throbbing off his ribs and echoing into his ears. The extreme pain spread from his veins to his nerves and erratic spasms wracked his body, causing him to convulse on the table.
The straps held him in place as he twitched and cried out. White teeth were clenched and bared as the padawan arched up from the table, his exposed body showing every well-defined line of his lithe physique. A cold sweat broke out and he labored for air, noticing that the much-needed oxygen was coming in too slowly. He gasped urgently, then felt a breathing mask placed over his face. His breathing slowed, and he settled against the table, feeling unconsciousness starting to claim him.
The man watched happily as the young Jedi seizured and sensed his anguish. He grabbed the gray box and gave Obi-Wan a shock, strong enough to keep him awake.
Obi-Wan's eyes widened and he felt his head bobbing uncontrollably on the table, unable to find any semblance of stability. He felt the room spinning and a tremendous pounding was still present in his head. He choked back tears and felt his body trembling with exhaustion, cold, and fear.
The man leaned over Obi-Wan's body and motioned to a guard, "Take him back to his cell. I think he's had enough for today, we'll resume tomorrow."
The guard nodded and unstrapped Obi-Wan and hoisted him up onto his feet. Another guard grabbed him from the other side and assisted the guard in dragging the now unconscious Jedi back to his master.
"Keep a watch over him. We don't want to lose him before we can get enough data." The man ordered to the scientist, which nodded her head silently in answer.
* * * * *
Several hours had passed in silence as Qui-Gon waited, trying desperately to sense his padawan and send a message of hope and encouragement. Emptiness was the only response to his pleas.
Anger, pain, failure, filled his senses, and he fought to control them. Even simple meditation was difficult to do with his mind reeling with all the possibilities of danger his padawan could be facing.
The door to the cell opened, Qui-Gon was on his feet, anticipating them to come in and rough him up for his earlier actions. He fell to his knees when the guards dropped the unconscious form of his padawan on the floor. Qui-Gon scanned Obi-Wan's body for extent of his injuries, wincing at the mental and physical anguish he was reliving in his unconsciousness.
Qui-Gon picked up his padawan carefully and placed Obi-Wan's head against his chest once more, this time, crying at the pain that Obi-Wan had suffered. He noticed the bloody wound on Obi-Wan's arm, and tried to focus on the force to stop the bleeding. After several tries, he finally was able to seal the wound and began to send healing waves to speed his recovery.
Suppressing his distraught emotions, Qui-Gon focused on Obi-Wan's body, and aided in the regeneration of his damaged tissue. Obi-Wan would occasionally jerk, like animals' nerves twitching as they die. Periodically, deep shudders shook the form of his padawan and he could hear Obi-Wan's breath becoming ragged.
Evening fell with Obi-Wan's vitals returning to normal, thanks to a determined master and the force. Obi-Wan was stable enough to allow the master some time to think, and to rest. Qui-Gon leaned against the wall and silently cried into the darkness, his body feeling the effects of his constant vigil and the healing energy focused from the force to ease Obi-Wan's suffering.
* * * * * *
A burst of bright light flooding the cell awoke Qui-Gon with a start and he clutched Obi-Wan's still form against him protectively. A guard entered, carrying the control box and wearing an evil grin. He motioned for Qui-Gon to abandon Obi-Wan's body, but he refused and held Obi-Wan closer, staring at the guard maliciously.
The guard hit the button and Qui-Gon called out, trying desperately to call on the force to help him. The guard increased the power and Qui-Gon clutched Obi-Wan's body tighter, yelling through clenched teeth, "Why don't you take me? I will go willingly, just let my padawan go and don't hurt him anymore."
The guard hit maximum power and Qui-Gon slumped to the floor, hitting his head against the hard surface, and splitting his temple open. Blood began to pool along his face. His hands were still tightly holding on to Obi-Wan and it took all the guards strength to pry his hands away. The guard dragged Obi-Wan's body back to the lab and placed him on the table, once again securing the young Jedi.
The dark man leaned over Obi-Wan's face, "Hey boy, wake up. Wake up!" His impatience got the better of him and he began slapping Obi-Wan, each slap becoming harder than the last.
Obi-Wan awoke to his feel his face stinging and his vision blurry. He tried to focus, but there was little effect. His voice was raspy as he spoke, "What happened? Where is Qui-Gon?"
"Your master deserted you to allow me to do my work." The man said into Obi-Wan's ear. "You were helping me with an experiment."
Obi-Wan shook his head and whimpered, "No, it can't be true. My master wouldn't leave me. You're lying. I don't know you. Where's my master?"
"Maybe we should wait until we're sure he's stronger." The assistant interrupted.
"No," the man said staring at Obi-Wan, "We'll continue. If he dies, then we'll just find another, and another. You know the routine, now prepare him for the next stage."
The assistant nodded and went to a cold storage and retrieved several vials. She removed one and inserted a needle into the greenish liquid, withdrawing a full amount. She pressed on Obi-Wan's stomach, searching for a vein, and upon finding it, plunged it deep into his midsection.
Obi-Wan screamed and tears ran down the side of his face. The liquid stung and burned as it coursed through his veins. Roaring flows of lava-hot pain branched out to his fatigued body, making even the cold table feel like it was melting to his heated flesh. His body adjusted to the heat and he called onto the force with all his might to channel the great power tearing him apart internally.
The man watched curiously, "Interesting. Very interesting. Give him another one."
The assistant looked over at him, her concern showing, "But....but, it will kill him. He's not strong enough to fight off both strands."
The man reached over, grabbing her throat, "I said inject both. I did not ask for your opinion. Do it now, or suffer your fate later. Do I make myself clear?"
The assistant gasped out, "Yes, Yes, Ok, I'll give him the other strand."
"Good, we have an understanding." The man said, releasing her from his hold.
The assistant returned to the cold storage and withdrew a yellowish substance, soon injecting it into Obi-Wan's stomach.
The Jedi howled in pain, and sucked for air, convulsions racking his body once again. With fists clenched, mouth open in silent screams, and spasms so powerful they caused every tendon and muscle to tighten and accent the youngsters body. His eyes widened, strained, protruding, and looked around at nothingness, seemingly to plead for help. The assistant placed the breathing mask over his face again, but there was no response to the oxygen. Obi-Wan shuddered a few times, banging his head, hands, and feet against the table, then fell limp.
The assistant checked his vitals, "He's alive, but barely."
"Take him to an observation room. Inform his master that he's dead and keep him locked up in solitary." The man ordered.
Guards rushed out of the room to carry out their orders, and several other assistants took Obi-Wan to a small room. They hooked him up on monitors and had several others on stand-by, watching over him in case they would be needed.
One of the assistants placed a thin sheet over Obi-Wan. It was automatically soaked with sweat and clung to his fevered body. Obi-Wan thrashed around on the medtable, and moaned about not being hurt anymore, his eyes fluttered and his breathing was erratic. One of the assistance looked over to the others, her face sad and sympathizing.
"What have we done?"
* * * * * * * * *
The guards opened Qui-Gon's cell and one of the assistants strode easily into the small room. Qui-Gon was still lying prone on the floor, dried blood stained his clothes and ground. The assistant kicked the still form, bringing him around to consciousness.
Qui-Gon woke up and quickly remembered what happened. He sat upright staring at the man that had taken away his apprentice. "Where is Obi-Wan? What did you do with him?"
"Oh, well, unfortunately he didn't survive the tests we had planned, so they are throwing his body out with the rest of the garbage." The man snickered.
The words stung at Qui-Gon's heart and revenge filled his eyes, and rage control his actions. He lunged forward, striking the man across the throat, crushing his windpipe. The guard choked and spluttered, staggering around the cell, clutching at his now bruised throat.
As soon as the guards heard the commotion, they turned to enter, only to come face to face with a grief stricken master. Qui-Gon punched one guard, sending him flying backwards, and elbowed another guard in the nose. The guard fell back dead, having the cartilage shoved up into his head from the force of the impact. The guard that was punched reached for the control box, and Qui-Gon stood behind him and wrapped his arms around the man's neck.
"Where is my padawan?" Qui-Gon asked the guard smoothly.
"He's being kept in the observation room on level 2. He was alive when we left him, unfortunately." The guard spat.
Qui-Gon's face remained passive as he twisted and crossed arms, snapping the guards' neck with a loud CRACK. He grabbed his and Obi-Wan's lightsabers that were hanging on the guards' side and quickly checked the hall for possible reinforcements.
Everything was clear.
He headed down the corridor to the lift, and took the lift up to the level 2. The doors whooshed open to reveal a deserted hallway.
As he neared, he sensed Obi-Wan's force imprint, though it was very weak and fluctuation wildly. He stopped in front of a door and with a flick of his saber, the controls relinquished their locking ability and allowed the door to slide open. Qui-Gon stepped inside, saber ready, only to see several women in white coats surrounding the young Jedi on a table.
"Step away from him! NOW!" Qui-Gon commanded.
"Please, let us help. He was subjected to deadly strains of bacteria and if he doesn't get the antidotes, he'll die." One of the ladies pleaded. Her face showed worry and concern.
Qui-Gon tentatively approached them and stood beside them to check on Obi-Wan's condition. He was surprised and outraged, watching as a streak of dark liquid coursed it's way through Obi-Wan circulatory system. Several of Obi-Wan's veins and arteries would swell up with the blackened color as it snaked its way through the complex system, then almost completely disappear as the liquid passed, the process resembling fast tunneling worms.
Obi-Wan convulsed slightly, knocking his head and shoulders hard on the table, then lay completely still. His breath would come in long, deep, sighs, then quick and raspy. His body repeated the chain of events several times, as the liquid would slither through his veins, towards his brain.
"He is stronger than we had hoped for. That's why the strain hadn't killed him. He was able to fight it off better than anyone we've given it to." one of the women said, setting up needles and several small multicolored serum bottles.
"Without these, he WILL die. The pathogen in his system now is the strongest one we have developed. He doesn't have much time." The woman explained.
"Do what you can." Qui-Gon nodded, knowing the women spoke the truth.
Three of the white-coat donned women began giving small injections into Obi-Wan's skin, infusing the drugs slowly into his blood stream. The injections seemed to slow down the darkened substance as it began to counteract the foreign agents in his system.
"You mean to tell me that YOU infected him and others with some sort of virus?" Qui-Gon asked astounded.
"It was necessary. We needed subjects that were pure and could withstand the serums." The women started saying. "We had to have a specimen that could give us accurate results without any other possible contagion."
"What are you talking about? You needed a specimen? You used people like unintelligent life forms, discarding them as you see fit! You should be ashamed or yourselves!" Qui-Gon said disgusted.
"LOOK, WE ARE AT WAR HERE. We aren't ashamed for what we did. It was for the greater good. I don't need a Jedi's forgiveness, I done what I thought was right!!" One of the ladies shot back.
"What do you mean, at war? I was at the peace signing a couple of days ago. Both sides agreed to a cease-fire. There hasn't been any hostilities for over a month." Qui-Gon explained.
The ladies raised their eyebrows at the seemingly ignorant Jedi before them. "You think we are war with one another? Oh no my dear friend, we are fighting against something a lot more terrifying."