Hey all=)
Wow! I'm making all chapters cliffhangers! Hehehe=) Sorry this took so long to post, The betaing process was a long one...out of everyone's control, sorry=) I'd like to thank MaraJade for her excellect imput and I'd like to thank Soda Baron for the wonderful help=)
Thank yous (a lot=): Freakizimi, Nathalie, BlueElli, Ginger Ninja, sliverrain, shen panda (Ummmmm no holding out...nope not at all...not in the slightest...yeah...=), siri, Xejo, HarpersAngel, Jen, BlazerAkila, Mourning Star, Melima8788, ~Becky~, ravensweed, Sentimental Star, Shanno, DarlaDru, Luthien Tinuviel, Enigma Jade, reader #212 (? LoL) and, last but also first lol, Freakizimi=)
Again, Wow!, I say=) Thankx everyone sooooo much for all the threa- errr- *reviews* this one is a bit less cliffhangery than the last one was, but have no fear, I have more in store for you all!
//telepathic messages//
~personal thoughts~
*****
Blurred images raced through his head, distorted to mere splotches of color, as consciousness slipped in and out of his mind's grasp. Slowly, comprehendible thoughts began to form, the foremost of which concerning the immense pain which could now be felt radiating throughout his entire body. Sith, even his hair hurt.
Unable to recede back into the dark abyss from which he came, Qui-Gon fought to open his eyes. If he was going to be in pain either way, he preferred to at least see what was going on.
Pushing confusion from his mind, he focused on what, exactly, had happened to leave him unable to even pull open his eyelids. He remembered the pain. Well, he could still feel the pain, so that didn't really count for anything. Concentrating harder, his mind played back images. His escape to the ship, talking with Obi-Wan...the explosions. Obi-Wan! He was still in the ship!
The thought of his padawan in peril was enough to make Qui-Gon jerk his head off the sandy ground...and enough to give a new meaning to the word 'pain.' Putting his head back down, he turned his eyes to the now smoldering wreckage, frantically searching the heap, using both his senses and the Force, for any signs of life. Nothing.
Twilight was fast approaching. How long had he been unconscious? He didn't know the planet's day cycle. It could have been minutes...it could have been hours...
A noise drew his attention from the search. Approaching the ship was the band of humans, the cause of Qui-Gon's grief. He did not move as they searched through the scraps of warped metal, but not because he didn't want to. *So* many un-Jedi emotions raced through his mind as he watched them dig.
All of these feelings were dwarfed by the one of supreme joy which sprang forth at the words of one of the men, "Here's one. He's alive."
Obi-Wan was alive.
"Where's the other?" the leader called as he poked under a large sheet of metal. Qui-Gon held his breath. Though the knowledge of his padawan lifted a tremendous weight from his shoulders, there was no way he would be able to defend himself from them. He couldn't even lift his head without excruciating pain.
Mumbles of uncertainty ran through the followers. The brush served as the perfect cover. No one suspected him to be there.
The leader growled and hurled a piece of the ship into the small group, scattering them. He then stalked out of the wreckage, back towards the service station. "Idiots," he muttered before he made a sharp gesture, never turning back to face his followers. "Come! Bring the boy. He will have to do."
Qui-Gon watched helplessly as his padawan's limp form was dragged across the sand. He knew there was nothing that he could do for the boy and he hated himself for it.
Out of other options, Qui-Gon slowly reached down to his comlink and activated the homing beacon. It would serve as a distress call and be sent through to the nearest Jedi, alerting them of their fallen comrade's location.
//I *will* find you, my padawan,// he swore into the Force, mostly for his own reassurance, because the one for whom the words were meant would never hear them.
*****
Waking, while never something he enjoyed, had never been less pleasant for Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Slowly opening his eyes, Obi-Wan pushed back all thoughts of the agony he was in and attempted to clear his head. As soon as he was able, he ran a check through the Force of his injuries. They were definitely substantial, to say the least. The odd thing was that they were healing, but not on their own.
Slowly bringing his gaze to the spot on his arm where he knew there to be a large gash, Obi-Wan saw a strip of bacta.
~Thank the Force, I'm safe,~ he thought as he closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching into the closest thing to a smile he could muster.
Obi-Wan, out of habit, then searched the Force for his master's comforting presence, but was alarmed to find no trace of him.
Eyes flying open again, he reevaluated his situation. He could see now that he was in a medical bay of a ship and, from the looks of his treatment, someone had obviously taken pains to be sure that his injuries would heal correctly. But, something didn't feel right. Something besides the lack of his master's presence, which had already set off hundreds of warning bells in his head. What else?
The question was answered promptly after it was conceived. The swish of doors opening prompted him to turn his head towards the entrance to the medical bay...and the nausea which followed that slight movement prompted him to add concussion to his growing list of injuries. ~I really should learn how to do a Force examination...how could I miss a concussion?~
He turned his attention back to the figure, who, clad in a black cloak and tunic, had just strolled into the room and was now standing at the foot of his bed.
"And how are we feeling?" the man asked with a cheerfulness that did not extend to his pupil-less eyes.
Receiving no sign of acknowledgment from Obi-Wan, the man playfully scolded the boy, "Now, is that the right way to treat the man who is responsible for your care?"gesturing to the various bacta patches which adorned Obi-Wan's body. His voice turned cold, "Is that the *smart* way to treat him?"
~If he's a festering pile of sithly bantha corpses who sabotaged your ship and was responsible for nearly killing you, then yes, I think it is,~ Obi-Wan though maliciously, pushing his own guilt to the back of his mind and willingly allowing anger to slowly take its place. Despite his raging emotions, he remained silent, his internal struggle never manifesting itself in the form of an outward expressions.
The two stared at each other for a moment, Obi-Wan could feel the anger building in man as he glared at the boy, wanting, but not receiving, a response. Regardless of the irate emotions swirling in the man, he thoroughly surprised Obi-Wan by slapping him soundly across the face.
"Watch your language," the man snarled, then, instantly, he switched his tone to one of amusement and proceeded as if his assault on the boy had never occurred, "Yes," he chuckled as he answered Obi-Wan's unasked question, "I am Force sensitive,"
Obi-Wan tried to make sense of the man before him. One moment he was vicious, the next, he was laughing as if nothing had happened. Checking his shields before he dared to broach the man's behavior more deeply, Obi-Wan assured himself of their strength, then let a part of his brain debate over the man who stood before him, before coming to a conclusion. ~A mental case is what he is.~
His captor's eyes turned hard once again as he locked his gaze with Obi-Wan's, speaking to the boy as one does while harshly reprimanding a disobedient child, "Though I have never been to your *Jedi Temple*, one would think they would teach you to respect your elders...or, at the very least, the proper way to shield your thoughts."
The sound of the door opening interrupted this happy little moment, drawing the man's attention from Obi-Wan, and focusing it on the healer who had just entered the ward.
"Ah, Healer M'ta. I was just discussing with your patient the finer points of Jedi etiquette, or, rather, lack there of," the man smiled while addressing the young, blond, woman, who hesitantly approached him, trying to keep her distance without appearing to do so.
"Yes, sir," the human bowed deeply, her voice quiet and submissive. Holding the position for a moment, the woman drew herself up again, but kept her eyes cast downwards. "What do you wish to be done with the boy?"
"One moment, please," the man smiled to her once again before turning back to Obi-Wan. With his expression an odd mix of both mirth and malice, the man reached down and ran his hand gently over Obi-Wan's injured arm. Pausing at the bacta patch, the man gave a smile that sent a chill down the padawan's spine before ripping the strongly adhered healing aid off the boy's skin Biting back a cry of pain, the boy's never looked away from those pupil-less eyes.
Glancing down at the nearly healed wound surrounded by a fast reddening square of skin, the man smirked, then turned back to the healer, "He has been here long enough. Have him prepared, then sent to the chambers."
"As you wish, Lord Demar," the healer replied obediently, her eyes fixed on one of the floor tiles.
"Excellent," the man, Demar, replied and, as he walked out the door, he caressed the woman's cheek, receiving from her an unconscious flinch, which he either did not notice, or chose to ignore.
Once he was gone, the woman visibly relaxed, but payed Obi-Wan no mind as she began removing the bacta patches, doing her task as though she was not tending to another living being.
Not that Obi-Wan noticed her behavior, for he was too deep in thought to care. Thinking about his master...whether his mentor was all right. He could tell Qui-Gon was alive through his bond, but nothing more. He tried to reach out to him, but found his link barred. Cringing internally at the guilt that flooded him when he came upon the shield, he could not determine whether the shields were placed up by his master, or whether the man was unconscious. Either situation was caused by him. Fairly certain that, no matter what horrendous atrocity he committed, his master would never block him, that left the Qui-Gon being unconscious the only plausable reason. A wave of nausea passed over Obi-Wan as he thought of the pain he had caused his master...
Well, he would not disappoint him again. Both reluctantly and gratefully he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind, and Obi-Wan turned his attention to his present problem, to the moment, to the one who held here on this ship, this Demar. The man was obviously unstable, the few minutes Obi-Wan spent with the him were enough to tell him that, but what he was capable of was yet to be determined. He was Force sensitive. Obi-Wan did not know what possibilities that fact gave way to, but he was certain that very few would work to his favor.
Well, they're not dead...that should inspire some happiness, right?=) As always, be a good lil Jedi and review=) Thanx for reading it=)
Wow! I'm making all chapters cliffhangers! Hehehe=) Sorry this took so long to post, The betaing process was a long one...out of everyone's control, sorry=) I'd like to thank MaraJade for her excellect imput and I'd like to thank Soda Baron for the wonderful help=)
Thank yous (a lot=): Freakizimi, Nathalie, BlueElli, Ginger Ninja, sliverrain, shen panda (Ummmmm no holding out...nope not at all...not in the slightest...yeah...=), siri, Xejo, HarpersAngel, Jen, BlazerAkila, Mourning Star, Melima8788, ~Becky~, ravensweed, Sentimental Star, Shanno, DarlaDru, Luthien Tinuviel, Enigma Jade, reader #212 (? LoL) and, last but also first lol, Freakizimi=)
Again, Wow!, I say=) Thankx everyone sooooo much for all the threa- errr- *reviews* this one is a bit less cliffhangery than the last one was, but have no fear, I have more in store for you all!
//telepathic messages//
~personal thoughts~
*****
Blurred images raced through his head, distorted to mere splotches of color, as consciousness slipped in and out of his mind's grasp. Slowly, comprehendible thoughts began to form, the foremost of which concerning the immense pain which could now be felt radiating throughout his entire body. Sith, even his hair hurt.
Unable to recede back into the dark abyss from which he came, Qui-Gon fought to open his eyes. If he was going to be in pain either way, he preferred to at least see what was going on.
Pushing confusion from his mind, he focused on what, exactly, had happened to leave him unable to even pull open his eyelids. He remembered the pain. Well, he could still feel the pain, so that didn't really count for anything. Concentrating harder, his mind played back images. His escape to the ship, talking with Obi-Wan...the explosions. Obi-Wan! He was still in the ship!
The thought of his padawan in peril was enough to make Qui-Gon jerk his head off the sandy ground...and enough to give a new meaning to the word 'pain.' Putting his head back down, he turned his eyes to the now smoldering wreckage, frantically searching the heap, using both his senses and the Force, for any signs of life. Nothing.
Twilight was fast approaching. How long had he been unconscious? He didn't know the planet's day cycle. It could have been minutes...it could have been hours...
A noise drew his attention from the search. Approaching the ship was the band of humans, the cause of Qui-Gon's grief. He did not move as they searched through the scraps of warped metal, but not because he didn't want to. *So* many un-Jedi emotions raced through his mind as he watched them dig.
All of these feelings were dwarfed by the one of supreme joy which sprang forth at the words of one of the men, "Here's one. He's alive."
Obi-Wan was alive.
"Where's the other?" the leader called as he poked under a large sheet of metal. Qui-Gon held his breath. Though the knowledge of his padawan lifted a tremendous weight from his shoulders, there was no way he would be able to defend himself from them. He couldn't even lift his head without excruciating pain.
Mumbles of uncertainty ran through the followers. The brush served as the perfect cover. No one suspected him to be there.
The leader growled and hurled a piece of the ship into the small group, scattering them. He then stalked out of the wreckage, back towards the service station. "Idiots," he muttered before he made a sharp gesture, never turning back to face his followers. "Come! Bring the boy. He will have to do."
Qui-Gon watched helplessly as his padawan's limp form was dragged across the sand. He knew there was nothing that he could do for the boy and he hated himself for it.
Out of other options, Qui-Gon slowly reached down to his comlink and activated the homing beacon. It would serve as a distress call and be sent through to the nearest Jedi, alerting them of their fallen comrade's location.
//I *will* find you, my padawan,// he swore into the Force, mostly for his own reassurance, because the one for whom the words were meant would never hear them.
*****
Waking, while never something he enjoyed, had never been less pleasant for Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Slowly opening his eyes, Obi-Wan pushed back all thoughts of the agony he was in and attempted to clear his head. As soon as he was able, he ran a check through the Force of his injuries. They were definitely substantial, to say the least. The odd thing was that they were healing, but not on their own.
Slowly bringing his gaze to the spot on his arm where he knew there to be a large gash, Obi-Wan saw a strip of bacta.
~Thank the Force, I'm safe,~ he thought as he closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching into the closest thing to a smile he could muster.
Obi-Wan, out of habit, then searched the Force for his master's comforting presence, but was alarmed to find no trace of him.
Eyes flying open again, he reevaluated his situation. He could see now that he was in a medical bay of a ship and, from the looks of his treatment, someone had obviously taken pains to be sure that his injuries would heal correctly. But, something didn't feel right. Something besides the lack of his master's presence, which had already set off hundreds of warning bells in his head. What else?
The question was answered promptly after it was conceived. The swish of doors opening prompted him to turn his head towards the entrance to the medical bay...and the nausea which followed that slight movement prompted him to add concussion to his growing list of injuries. ~I really should learn how to do a Force examination...how could I miss a concussion?~
He turned his attention back to the figure, who, clad in a black cloak and tunic, had just strolled into the room and was now standing at the foot of his bed.
"And how are we feeling?" the man asked with a cheerfulness that did not extend to his pupil-less eyes.
Receiving no sign of acknowledgment from Obi-Wan, the man playfully scolded the boy, "Now, is that the right way to treat the man who is responsible for your care?"gesturing to the various bacta patches which adorned Obi-Wan's body. His voice turned cold, "Is that the *smart* way to treat him?"
~If he's a festering pile of sithly bantha corpses who sabotaged your ship and was responsible for nearly killing you, then yes, I think it is,~ Obi-Wan though maliciously, pushing his own guilt to the back of his mind and willingly allowing anger to slowly take its place. Despite his raging emotions, he remained silent, his internal struggle never manifesting itself in the form of an outward expressions.
The two stared at each other for a moment, Obi-Wan could feel the anger building in man as he glared at the boy, wanting, but not receiving, a response. Regardless of the irate emotions swirling in the man, he thoroughly surprised Obi-Wan by slapping him soundly across the face.
"Watch your language," the man snarled, then, instantly, he switched his tone to one of amusement and proceeded as if his assault on the boy had never occurred, "Yes," he chuckled as he answered Obi-Wan's unasked question, "I am Force sensitive,"
Obi-Wan tried to make sense of the man before him. One moment he was vicious, the next, he was laughing as if nothing had happened. Checking his shields before he dared to broach the man's behavior more deeply, Obi-Wan assured himself of their strength, then let a part of his brain debate over the man who stood before him, before coming to a conclusion. ~A mental case is what he is.~
His captor's eyes turned hard once again as he locked his gaze with Obi-Wan's, speaking to the boy as one does while harshly reprimanding a disobedient child, "Though I have never been to your *Jedi Temple*, one would think they would teach you to respect your elders...or, at the very least, the proper way to shield your thoughts."
The sound of the door opening interrupted this happy little moment, drawing the man's attention from Obi-Wan, and focusing it on the healer who had just entered the ward.
"Ah, Healer M'ta. I was just discussing with your patient the finer points of Jedi etiquette, or, rather, lack there of," the man smiled while addressing the young, blond, woman, who hesitantly approached him, trying to keep her distance without appearing to do so.
"Yes, sir," the human bowed deeply, her voice quiet and submissive. Holding the position for a moment, the woman drew herself up again, but kept her eyes cast downwards. "What do you wish to be done with the boy?"
"One moment, please," the man smiled to her once again before turning back to Obi-Wan. With his expression an odd mix of both mirth and malice, the man reached down and ran his hand gently over Obi-Wan's injured arm. Pausing at the bacta patch, the man gave a smile that sent a chill down the padawan's spine before ripping the strongly adhered healing aid off the boy's skin Biting back a cry of pain, the boy's never looked away from those pupil-less eyes.
Glancing down at the nearly healed wound surrounded by a fast reddening square of skin, the man smirked, then turned back to the healer, "He has been here long enough. Have him prepared, then sent to the chambers."
"As you wish, Lord Demar," the healer replied obediently, her eyes fixed on one of the floor tiles.
"Excellent," the man, Demar, replied and, as he walked out the door, he caressed the woman's cheek, receiving from her an unconscious flinch, which he either did not notice, or chose to ignore.
Once he was gone, the woman visibly relaxed, but payed Obi-Wan no mind as she began removing the bacta patches, doing her task as though she was not tending to another living being.
Not that Obi-Wan noticed her behavior, for he was too deep in thought to care. Thinking about his master...whether his mentor was all right. He could tell Qui-Gon was alive through his bond, but nothing more. He tried to reach out to him, but found his link barred. Cringing internally at the guilt that flooded him when he came upon the shield, he could not determine whether the shields were placed up by his master, or whether the man was unconscious. Either situation was caused by him. Fairly certain that, no matter what horrendous atrocity he committed, his master would never block him, that left the Qui-Gon being unconscious the only plausable reason. A wave of nausea passed over Obi-Wan as he thought of the pain he had caused his master...
Well, he would not disappoint him again. Both reluctantly and gratefully he pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind, and Obi-Wan turned his attention to his present problem, to the moment, to the one who held here on this ship, this Demar. The man was obviously unstable, the few minutes Obi-Wan spent with the him were enough to tell him that, but what he was capable of was yet to be determined. He was Force sensitive. Obi-Wan did not know what possibilities that fact gave way to, but he was certain that very few would work to his favor.
Well, they're not dead...that should inspire some happiness, right?=) As always, be a good lil Jedi and review=) Thanx for reading it=)