Sorry this took so long, but I didn't want to post it until I was sure it was ready. ;)

TITLE: MILES TO GO
AUTHOR: Cascadia
TIME: 6 years pre-TPM, Obi-Wan is 19
RATING: PG or PG-13
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, Non-Slash
SUMMARY: Padawan Obi-Wan is kidnapped by a Force-sensitive. Can he overcome without the Force? Without Qui-Gon?
ARCHIVE: Please ask first. Sites who have previously archived any of my stories may archive any of them that they want to without asking. See bio for archived sites.
DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters are the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All the rest belong to me. I receive absolutely no profit from this.




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CHAPTER 3 - SHARD OF HOPE



It was dark. Void. And as he stared absently in the indistinguishable distance through the window, Obi-Wan's Jedi master was swept away once again in suspension - an abeyance of life. His mind aimlessly tossed about in a sea of worry unbefitting a Jedi master of his experience. Deeply inhaling to fill his lungs to capacity, he held his breath a few seconds before letting the air escape.

How long had it been?

Carefully counting each day - desperately running through every activity - since his padawan's mysterious disappearance, Qui-Gon quickly - and thoroughly - relived the initial horror of realizing that Obi-Wan might never be found and every agonizing minute since then.

Everything felt unreal - a cruel illusion. Each day was more like walking through a horrifying dream. Subtle reminders here and there of the one person that had taken up so much of his life for the last six years, pressed into his awareness, sending him reeling at each turn of the page.

Now with no single shred of evidence in sight of where Obi-Wan could be, the Jedi master was near to giving in to despair. A cluttering of images - gory and gruesome - instantly sprang to mind when he considered what could have possibly become of his padawan.

He missed the youth's curious questions, the quiet replies when rebuked, the cocky sense of humor, and that unmistakably unique voice that traced a long, unbroken cord connecting one day to the next.

As Qui-Gon imagined his padawan's sweet smile, the memory now seemed bleak - not at all comforting, but bittersweet and colored in deep sorrow.

The constant absence of that youth - and the buzzing silence of their training bond - had nearly driven him to his knees to plead with the Force for some kind of explanation - any explanation.

For all the years that Qui-Gon had fought to keep his heart from ever feeling anything again, one small child had slipped past his carefully constructed armor and claimed a large share of his scarred heart - bringing the bright, sunny warmth of morning and the gentle, cool rinse of rain... the bubbling joy of laughter, and the lyric of music.

Despite the grating rejection and the disappointments peppered throughout their relationship, the child had fiercely latched onto him - and never turned away. Through it all... the child had remained faithful.

For once in his life, Qui-Gon knew what unconditional love was. He was taught that lesson by that same child, who never let 'no' change his mind or turn him from the path he felt compelled to walk.

And now that child was gone... somewhere, where he undoubtedly wanted not to be.

When he had awoken earlier from a nightmare, Qui-Gon had given up on sleeping and retreated to the common room of his apartment to try to meditate. As the ease for meditation that he usually experienced shriveled away, indifferently withdrawing from his scrambling reach, the Jedi master forlornly retreated to his favorite chair.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his bleary vision, Qui-Gon sank back into his cushiony chair, his broad shoulders slumped. This was always the worst time - when the nothingness of night obstinately rolled into his life, crushing the tiny wisps of hope that he had so stubbornly refused to relinquish. He felt stripped of the future, robbed of the past... and - above all else - tortured to his soul by the absence of that one loving child in the presence of each waking day.

A distant chime resonated into his awareness. Its gentle intonation grew to a rude echo - over and over until Qui-Gon blinked back to the present. He looked down at the ceramic mug cupped in his hands. His full cup of tea was undoubtedly cold by now.

Setting the mug aside, the Jedi master rose to his feet, feeling his weight, and shuffled to the door.

Swishing open, the door revealed Master Yoda - Councilor and great Jedi Master. The little green-skinned creature was considered the wisest of all the Jedi, and he unselfishly dispensed said wisdom when time permitted or the Force prodded.

"Master Yoda. What are you doing here... at this hour?" Qui-Gon found his voice soft and hollow to his own ears.

Without comment the little Councilor hobbled his way past Qui-Gon and proceeded to sit on a chair, with his soft moans punctuating the trip.

Qui-Gon closed the door and joined Yoda in the common room, returning to his favorite chair. He was not entirely surprised to receive this kind visitor in the middle of the night. Yoda was very attuned to the Force and followed its lead more diligently than anyone else Qui-Gon had ever known.

After clearing his throat, the tall Jedi asked, "what brings you here, Master?"

A gentle sigh was all the answer that came from Yoda, and he remained unmoving from his perch on the chair. With his large eyes closed, Yoda appeared deep in thought... or asleep.

Qui-Gon stared back out the window, another spectral vision of his padawan playing through his mind.

"Your thoughts, where are they? Hmm?" said Yoda, now studying the younger master.

"Obi-Wan." The words came as light as a whisper, but the weight they carried far surpassed anything else he could have said.

A pause of silence deepened the sobriety of Qui-Gon's confession.

Yoda had already known his struggle, but Qui-Gon - with his personality - had not mentioned how deeply affected he had been to anyone, not so much as venting any worrisome emotions or doubts in any sort of release. Qui-Gon kept his feelings mostly to himself - a practice carried since long before, when another pupil had taken that outward show of emotion and cruelly twisted it. Now waves of despair rolled off the younger master, bombarding the peaceful ripples of the Force generated by the tiny councilor. Yoda had suspected this downward spiral - though not by reason alone, but also by Force revelation.

"Fear for him you do. Hmm?" Yoda said in a gentle voice.

"Yes, Master. I don't know what I can do." answered Qui-Gon with a vain attempt to cover his tormented soul.

Yoda tapped his gimer stick lightly on the chair. "Focus not on the negative, Qui-Gon. Mindful of your thoughts you must be. Face your fears you must, but rule you let them not."

"Yes. I know," Qui-Gon quietly replied.

"Know you do, but practice it you do not." Yoda's drooping ears accentuated his disappointment.

A frown creased the younger master's forehead. "But, I miss him," his voice dripped with sorrow.

"And miss him too, I do. But stop, you must," Yoda said. "Lost to fear and hopelessness will you be, if release your emotions to the Force you will not."

"Yes, I know," Qui-Gon sighed. Although he said it, the ability to actually do it seemed to lie far away, beyond his reach.

"Do him no good do you, by wallowing in self pity. Be mindful of your thoughts, Qui-Gon," added Yoda, with a hint of a reprimand, his large eyes luminous as they watched the younger master. "Once of a very wise Jedi it was said: knew as much as any other he did, but until learn to practice what he knew, then most foolish of fools was he," Yoda paused, sighing. "Still much to learn have you, Qui-Gon. Let go your fear to the Force." Yoda poked Qui-Gon's knee with his gimer stick. "What now does it tell you?"

"I'm not sure," whispered Qui-Gon. He sipped his tea, savoring its tang, almost as if he had never tasted it before. Everything appeared soberly different now - after Obi-Wan's disappearance - as if previously veiled, but now suddenly exposed.

After a stretch of silence, the younger master looked over at Yoda. The little creature sat completely still, his eyes closed in deep thought or meditation.

"Why do you think Obi-Wan was at 'Odkar's Wares' the night he disappeared?" Qui-Gon stated. "He didn't tell me he was going anywhere."

Blinking his huge eyes, Yoda said, "there for you, I think."

"For me?" Qui-Gon asked, dumbfounded.

Yoda sighed heavily. He never ceased to be surprised at Qui-Gon's inability to recognize his own padawan's loving devotion towards him.

"Why would he be there for me?" asked Qui-Gon, sitting up straighter. His mind searched for any reason.

Staring into Qui-Gon's deep-blue eyes, the little master said, "tell you not that go there he would. Birthday have you soon, Qui-Gon. A gift for you he sought."

"And he ended up being chewed out by Odkar for breaking some expensive items," Qui-Gon solemnly added.

Wells of tears sprang to Qui-Gon's eyes. Wiping them away, he leaned back in his chair again, attempting to find a more relaxing position.

He let his mind drift back to how he had seen Obi-Wan before he left to talk to Yoda that night. The padawan was clearly upset that Qui-Gon would not confide in him, but was still intent to buy him something for his birthday.

Then the day after Obi-Wan disappeared, the Calamarian shopkeeper had called the Jedi Temple informing them of what had taken place there the night before, and had demanded full reimbursement for all the items that the padawan had broken or damaged.

Going by the time that Odkar said Obi-Wan had left his shop, the padawan must have left the Temple to go there right after Qui-Gon left to speak with Yoda. The padawan evidently had been planning on going there some time for him to leave the Temple as quickly as he did.

What if Qui-Gon had never left the apartment that night? What if he had decided to tell Obi-Wan, instead of considering it something private for the time being? Perhaps if Qui-Gon had not felt the need to talk to Yoda about it....

He had already gone through all of this. A million 'what if's' stretched into infinity.

But despite it all, his padawan was still missing and may never be coming home. Qui-Gon sensed that Obi-Wan remained alive, and that his presence was not near, but someplace far off, another planet.

Qui-Gon rubbed his fatigued eyes. "I need a ship... to go look for him."

"And search the whole galaxy you plan?" Yoda asked skeptically.

"I have to do something," he mumbled.



~*~



Fear. A perfectly normal emotion... and reaction to outside sources or internal struggles, elements originating within or without. Sometimes fear comes for valid reasons, sometimes from the imagined....

He remembered his difficult struggle with fear as an initiate. It nearly cost him his future as a Jedi - now it could very well cost him his life. Letting fear rule his actions might do that, he reminded himself. But if everything he had learned about dealing with it was someway tied to the Force and his connection to it, then how was he expected to deal with it now when his ability to touch and call on the Force for assistance was gone? Would any attempt to do so be fruitful or simply a waste of precious energy?

Determined to keep hope alive and subvert all of his distress, Obi-Wan focused on his mentor. Qui-Gon would help him if he knew he were here, the padawan desperately encouraged himself. However, since the tall Jedi master - in all probability - did not, Obi-Wan imagined his master here, ready to give him instruction when necessary. He imagined the training bond in full capacity. Where - in reality - there was silence, Obi-Wan allowed his memory to fill in the empty space with Master Qui-Gon's gentle instruction and never-ending words of wisdom.

The fabrication was slightly reassuring, though not totally, but even a tiny shaft of hope was better than none, and he knew he could not endure without it. He knew it remained all in his mind, but it somehow relieved some of the stress and helplessness threatening to subjugate him.

Above him were the soft, emerald plumes of a thousand palmy-leafed trees, swaying gently in the cool morning breeze. There had been no morning rain as there had been their first day here, but - nevertheless - the landscape lay moist from the deluge of the night before. Luckily, the two travelers had escaped the vicious atmospheric attack by safely hiding away, courteously sheltered from the crashing rainstorm by an unimaginably large, hollowed-out tree.

A mysterious fog dwelt among the underbrush, diminishing visibility and compelling the exhausted trekkers to make slow progress through the steamy, rain-soaked forest. Only the periodic squishing of boots and huffing breaths of the two men, and the occasional euphony of birds, broke the silence.

With his dwindling energy and the excruciating pain of his ankle, the padawan - whose limping had increased - was relieved that Tennosa seemed satisfied with their walking pace, although the elder man had offered no assistance to his suffering ankle. He bit back the now nearly unbearable pains and focused on remaining vertical. Still, there lingered no doubt in Obi-Wan's mind that he could not trust Tennosa. The man had kidnapped him and intentionally murdered another. No doubt when he proved to be more of a burden than an asset, then he, too, would be killed.

Abruptly, the ground gave way to a swampy lake. How far the morass stretched, however, the padawan could only guess, for the dense fog swirled and teased, offering only fleeting glimpses of the cloudy marsh.

Obi-Wan stopped just shy of it, uncertain whether Tennosa desired to cross it or not.

"Sith," Tennosa's weary voice called out from behind the padawan. "We turned to the west too soon. We'll have to go further up the swamp to cross," he stated as he glanced at the murky water.

"Why can't we cross here?" asked Obi-Wan, as he tiredly watched the older man. It wasn't that he wanted to cross the swamp at all, but he was simply curious.

Tennosa walked to the edge of the water, stopping beside the padawan. Then he squinted his eyes and pointed. "See that?"

Following the man's direction, searching through the softly billowing fog, Obi-Wan looked out at the swamp, catching the increasing movement cresting the water surface.

"Those slithering things are not very friendly." Tennosa looked back at the padawan, who was still warily eyeing the mess of serpentine creatures writhing together. "And they can leave you with a very... unpleasant experience." Tennosa grabbed Obi-Wan's arm and pulled the limping padawan after him.

By the time the dazzling sun sat at the edge of the horizon, they had fortunately found the thick grove of Issian bamboo stalks that Tennosa had been diligently searching for. But also by this time, Obi-Wan could barely stay on his feet and could not have done so without Tennosa helping him, directing him through the forest.

The unbearable pain from his ankle and the spinning vertigo threw him off balance at every turn. The padawan had earlier surrendered to the groans and whimpers that he had tried so hard in vain to prevent as he was mercilessly driven on, and now with the appearance of the bamboo, he nearly broke down and cried from relief.

Rounding the bamboo grove, they arrived where the sky visibly loomed overhead, no longer hidden by splaying tree limbs or the covering of leaves. Through the natural aperture, the heavens - alight with a ravishing golden sunset - peaked through the fading fog, bringing another day of lassitude to rest for the two travelers.

Dropping his gaze to the sight before him, Obi-Wan stifled a gasp. The stone ruins stood crumbling - yet oddly strong in appearance - and defiant, as if refusing to scatter to dust, refusing the wear of natural deterioration. It is the way of all things, but this place tried to deny it.

In the center was the tallest structure. It rose unabashedly seven stories still intact, seven sets of window openings that offered brief glimpses at the lifelessness within. Wide at the bottom, the tower tapered to a fine point at its top, directing one's gaze to continue upward to the magnificence of the skies.

Surrounding the tower was an array of smaller dwellings. Every structure here indicated highly developed craftsmanship, artisanship, and a keen knowledge of the eventual fate of mercy to the elements. The smooth, alabaster stones used for construction seemingly drew the secluded ruins from the surrounding vegetation, highlighting its presence in the verdant loveliness protectively encircling it.

Just to the edge of the clearing, a stone bridge stretched across the swamp, touching ground far on the other side. This was where Tennosa planned to cross the swamp.

As Tennosa half-dragged the padawan towards the tower, Obi-Wan tripped over the scattered rocks and stone chips of all sizes that littered the ground.

When they entered the tower's wide doorway, the padawan noticed various-sized pieces of broken pottery lining the sable-tiled floor near the walls. They walked down a long hallway and into a vaulted chamber. Its ceiling rose far up. This had to be the middle of the tower, Obi-Wan surmised.

Tennosa roughly pushed the padawan to the floor and continued on toward what appeared to be an altar in the center of the room. The stone slab was highly polished and carved with intricate detail.

Obi-Wan observed the dust-caked floor around him. He was not at all surprised to see it there, but the other thing he saw started his heart pounding. With eyes suddenly bright, he quickly glanced back at Tennosa, who stood with his back to the padawan, studying the carved altar. Quickly, the padawan scooted about three feet, towards one wall, and clamped his hand down on something, grasping and concealing it with his hand. Then he shifted back to where his captor had left him.

"I like this place," Tennosa said, returning to Obi-Wan's side. "I come here to meditate sometimes."

"You meditate?" Obi-Wan inquired, trying to keep his mind from the object concealed in his hand. "Where did you learn that?"

"Yes, I do. And I learned from... a man." said Tennosa, with a twisted smile. "We'll stay here until daybreak. It'll be safe from the wildlife." He hesitated as he sat his satchel on the floor. "My mansion's close to here," he continued after he straightened up. "We'll be there tomorrow." Tennosa eyed the padawan distrustfully.

Obi-Wan met his gaze, refusing to let this man take away his last shred of hope.

Recognizing the defiance radiating steadily from the padawan's - now - brilliant turquoise eyes, Tennosa pulled out his blaster and dropped to one knee beside the prisoner.

"You don't want to be foolish, Padawan." Tennosa pointed the weapon at Obi-Wan. The elder man's dark eyes sent a hateful stare, menace inhabited his voice. "Even if you could escape, that forest out there is even more dangerous than I am."

Unflinching, Obi-Wan replied smoothly, "perhaps." The calm delivery and cryptic answer surprised even him, though he refused to show it.

Tennosa's eyes narrowed. He wondered vainly what his young captive might be thinking, but the padawan's thoughts easily slipped through the tendrils of Force-energy Tennosa used to try to capture them with. "I think it would be smart for you to change your attitude," he coolly warned.

The padawan - in all appearances, save his eyes - was physically weakened and near collapsing from fatigue, but there was something in his demeanor that Tennosa could not - did not want to - positively identify as calm assurance and eternal hope, and the young man's sparkling eyes were alight with what could only be construed as glee.

At the sight of that shining hope radiating from Obi-Wan, Tennosa almost lost his hold on the moment. He was very tired himself, but relied on the Force to give him much needed strength.

Reigning in the scintilla of doubt and replacing his blaster in its holster on his hip, he let go of the building rage inside of him and grabbed the padawan's shoulders, roughly jerking him to his feet. Then he slammed his captive against the wall behind him. A light sprinkling of dust fell from the ceiling over their heads, flitting quietly to the floor around them.

Obi-Wan fought to clear his blurring vision from the jarring impact to his head. Squinting, he tried to focus on the dark circles fuzzing in and out before him. Tennosa's eyes stared angrily at him, as the dark swirling energy sizzled around them. Too exhausted to struggle and fearing the coming loss of consciousness, Obi-Wan leaned into Tennosa's hold as the room tilted far to one side, and he intently concentrated on keeping the object in his hand - and keeping it hidden.

"You don't know want to make me angry at you, Padawan," the man's voice severely warned.

Tennosa watched the confusion spread across Obi-Wan's face. The once-bright eyes were now clouded and unfocused, and the padawan would have slipped to the tile floor if not for being held up by him. He tightened his hold as Obi-Wan's head lolled forward and his body went limp.


TBC