Writing this part was like piecing together a huge puzzle. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and any resemblance to any other fics is purely coincidental. ;) And thanks for all the feedback.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

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.




^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^



CHAPTER 6 - I'M YOUR GUEST?



There was a splash of water and shivering coldness. Brightness flashed and dashed away, before returning again. A bed of fire and the soft caress of fabric, and a soothing balm wafted through his awareness, but at the very back of his mind, he vaguely sensed that all was not well, at least, not in the living world.

With that thought, though obscured in a fog of mist it was, he felt the flames of sparking heat rise, baking, sweltering, and he wondered why he was so hot... so terribly hot.

A cold touch fell lightly to his face, and he instinctively leaned into it, though not at all certain who or what, or even why it was there, but the simple action prompted response.

"Padawan," a voice called. "Padawan," the emotionless voice came again.

With a tiring effort, he opened his heavy-lidded eyes, but the world hung and twisted in a confusing maze of colors and moving shapes, so much so, that he had to close his eyes again to avoid a swell of nausea.

The cool hand returned again, sliding lightly down his jaw line, stopping to cup his chin.

"Padawan," the man said in slight urgency.

He opened his eyes again, fighting to keep his eyelids from falling. As they fluttered, demanding to close again, he fought it harder this time, if just to see who was speaking to him.

The dark eyes bore hard into him, striking a piercing stare, but Obi-Wan refused to look away, and the face - along with all of the unpleasant memory associated with it - came into disheartening focus.

Closing his eyes, the padawan quietly answered in a tone of dismissal that he intended to sound rude, "go away."

He laid still, wondering why Tennosa was not doing, nor saying, anything to him, and when he was sure he had gotten away with his impudent remark, he peeked through his eyelashes at the man idly sitting to his side.

"You should thank me for rescuing you from that dreadful forest and bringing you safely here," Tennosa stated with an edge of malice. "Or would you prefer I toss you back out there?" He jerked his head toward a large window on the wall behind him that Obi-Wan had not noticed. As a matter of fact, he had not noticed, until now, that he was inside a room, dark though it was.

With a show of confusion, the padawan scanned the room with his eyes, taking note of the sunlight spilling in a dull haze through the window, the dark sepia walls and sparse furnishings - a small chair, a modest dresser, and a lumpy bed that he was - at the moment - lying upon. His eyes came back to rest on the man sitting on the edge of the bed and the menacing look of distaste.

Though the padawan would never admit it, at least to the man in front of him, he was actually relieved that Tennosa had found him and brought him here. His experience with the serpent had definitely made him wary of ever setting foot in the forest again, and if he could help it, he would not be going back.

"Would you, please," Obi-Wan replied tersely, fighting to keep a smirk from forming as he watched the man's jaw muscles tighten.

There was just a small, very tiny part inside of him that doubted his captor would not throw him out in the forest, but he considered that, as much trouble as Tennosa had gone through to capture him and bring him here, it would not likely happen... at least not soon.

"The vines you ran through," Tennosa said, with unmasked virulence. "They're poisonous. The cuts on your hands, did you get them from the vine's thorns?"

He watched in atrocious satisfaction as the padawan blinked back the shock of the new information and, in futility, tried to cover up his unease, and when the padawan looked back at him again in hesitance, there was an unspoken question in his worried eyes.

Smiling spitefully at the look of disquiet on the padawan's face, Tennosa went on, "if enough poison got into your system, which I believe it did, then... who knows," he shrugged.

Obi-Wan stared at him, swallowing the sickly apprehension coursing through him. "Poison?" he muttered just as a flurry of heat spread over him.

Tennosa stared indifferently at him. It was strikingly apparent that the padawan was in the grasp of a torrid fever - and very ill. His face, as pallid as the white sleep clothes that Tennosa had dressed him in, was covered in a sheet of sweat, his hair was darkened from dampness, and his eyes shone glassy in the soft light.

Weakly raising a hand to his face, Obi-Wan draped it lazily across his forehead, and to his dismay, felt the smoldering heat of his skin. Just as the feverish temperature registered, a wave of nausea encompassed him, and if he had had any food in his stomach at all, he knew without a single doubt, it would certainly have come up.

"Rest now, Padawan," said Tennosa's voice, but to the young man lying on the bed it sounded funneled, distant, and just as the room suddenly swerved, he hastily closed his eyes.



~*~



There were moments of lucidity, and there were moments of incapacitating confusion, when blurred vagueness and a scurry of thoughts twisted and tossed about in a blaze of alternately withering and swarming heat, and when he believed he was truly going mad, then the crystal clarity returned, shining and bold... only to cruelly scamper away again.

But the most horrifying thing was the painful sickness that tumbled violently about his insides. In queasy agony, he groped and tugged at the thin cotton sheet covering him, rumpling the delicate, crisp fabric.

A metallic voice.

A flood of water inside his parched mouth, and chills followed by fire.

Everything else came in the spate of a windstorm... ringing voices, vibrant colors, there and gone in a trice.

And where was he again?

At last, as the most gripping moment of nausea drifted away and his feverish thoughts left him, he opened his eyes to the softly lit window across the room, where a gentle radiance shone through as the only light in the room.

There was no more fiery heat, no more engulfing nausea, though the effects of the Force-suppressant seemed to remain, but it could no more compare to the poison as a tiny droplet could compare to a tiding ocean.

After a few minutes, when he felt sure that his body had purged itself, he pushed himself up to sit on the mattress. His strength was all gone, but he was not at all surprised since he had been given very little to eat since he had been kidnapped, and that Tennosa had probably deprived him purposely.

He closed his eyes, and as he was about to tumble over from weakness, he heard the swoosh of an opening door.

"I see you're feeling better, Padawan." The voice was smooth, smug, and after a brief pause of silence, during which Obi-Wan did not even so much as look at the speaker, the voice continued. "Here is food for you to eat, and no matter what you believe, I do care about your welfare. I saw that you were cared for while you were so sick."

"Sure you do," Obi-Wan mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on the bed.

"Es-Kay, just leave the tray on the bed," said Tennosa dismissively.

Obi-Wan looked up at the bi-pedal, servant droid walking around the bed. It carefully placed a tray full of food beside him on the bed and walked stiffly out the door.

Directing his attention back to the padawan, Tennosa continued, "I do care. I had your ankle tended to, and, unless I'm mistaken - which I doubt - it is nearly healed. Now, I'll leave you to eat."

As Tennosa turned to leave, Obi-Wan watched him place his hand against a panel on the wall. The door slid open, revealing another closed door just outside that one, then the first door closed behind Tennosa, leaving the padawan alone in the small room.

His gaze dropped down to the tray of food. If he were to discover a way out of here, he would need to regain his strength first.



~*~



Left alone since the food was brought to him earlier, he now stood by the window, gazing at the steamy forest. Apparently his room was raised three or four stories up from the ground. Below, he could see shadows and misty darkness concealing the thick vegetation, while the last gleaming rays of sunlight stretched over the tops of the trees, dropping the curtain of day.

He felt less faint after eating, and his skin had returned to its natural color, and was no longer pale - as the white sleep clothes he wore starkly contrasted with his normal skin tone.

Looking down at his ankle, he flexed it. It was still tender, but had nearly healed while he had been unconscious, so Tennosa had not lied about that.

The swoosh of the door drew his attention to his new visitor. Obi-Wan heard someone enter the room and stop, but he did not look.

After a moment of silence, Tennosa said, "Jinn sacrificed alot in his pride of apprentices. It made him blind in many ways, blind in the ways of discipline and the so-called overbearing intervention by nosey Councilors, among other things."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?" Obi-Wan huffed, wheeling around to face the speaker.

"It means," Tennosa walked towards the window, peering past the padawan to the lush view outside, "that Qui-Gon missed alot of points in training."

Obi-Wan glared at him with eyes suddenly dark and foreboding.

Tennosa barely acknowledged the piercing stare. "When he should have been harsh, he was lenient, and when he should have lenient, he was harsh. But maybe that's not important."

"Then what is important?" asked the padawan in exasperation.

"Qui-Gon knows the Force. He doesn't just follow it, but he KNOWS it." The Tennosa studied the younger man's eyes. There was a soft vulnerability now present in them.

Obi-Wan stared at him, but said nothing.

"He listens to the Living Force, does he not?" The elder man waited, and seeing he would get no response, turned around and strode across the room. "I believe the Living Force is important, I want to understand it, but did you ever think... that it is his connection to the Living Force that blinds him - that makes him unable to stop his mistakes, because he can't see them far enough in advance to prevent them? But maybe he isn't listening well enough?"

"He makes no mistakes," Obi-Wan answered quickly.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Padawan," the elder man snapped back, facing Obi-Wan again. "Even that Sith-of-a-master that you worship."

"What do you know of his mistakes?" Obi-Wan guardedly asked.

"I know he messed up with Xanatos. Who couldn't see that he was only puffing the boy up, only adding to his arrogance? When I first met Qui-Gon, there was no way that Xanatos could be wrong, in his eyes. And apparently others warned him about the boy, but he wouldn't listen."

"What's so important about all of this?" Obi-Wan inquired. "What's so important to you about Qui-Gon?"

"He told me he couldn't train me, that I wasn't young enough," Tennosa admitted quietly. "But I couldn't have been," he started in smoldering wrath, "as bad as that arrogant kid he kept as his apprentice. And Jinn couldn't see that. Why couldn't he see the truth?"

"But you said he helped you," Obi-Wan countered.

Tennosa retraced his steps to stand beside Obi-Wan by the window. "He helped me see that I wasn't wanted. But... his little padawan offered to help. And from him I learned a great many things."

"You'll learn nothing from me," Obi-Wan stated calmly.



~*~



The window had become a source of escape for him. Staring at the rain forest, he often let his mind wander, let himself feel free once again. He watched the failing light as another day disappeared, leaving him in the engulfing darkness again. When the shades of night appeared he would let himself sleep. He would be free there, too.

He was never allowed out of his room, nor did Tennosa ever leave him alone for more than a few hours at a time. The man questioned and questioned him tirelessly concerning anything and everything remotely related to the Force - and even things that Obi-Wan saw no connection between them at all.

He had no intention to give any useful information to his captor at all, and diligently tiptoed along the edge of opposition and cooperation. Evasion was not easy to do, but the padawan had tried to keep Tennosa as confused about the Force as he ever had been.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to alleviate a raging headache. Dealing with his captor daily was extremely stressful. The man seemed very intelligent, but also - thankfully - confused about the Force. Although it all made perfect sense to the padawan, he knew that intellectuals were sometimes the hardest ones to get a firm grasp of the faculties involving the Force. It was not all mental, there were spiritual aspects that - no matter the brilliance of the individual - could never be completely understood with reason.

Every day was basically the same - he would eat, sleep, and run circles of logic around his captor. If he hadn't been in the situation he was in, then the padawan might have found it humorous, but he warily had qualms that Tennosa suspected his subterfuge.

How much longer his tactics would work, he did not know, but he knew where it was all heading. Eventually Tennosa would grow weary of him and wish to kill him, which made escape a top priority.

Now all he needed to do was formulate a plan.

With a sliding swish, the door opened behind him. He turned to find the droid who usually brought him his food. It walked over to the food tray, proceeding to retrieve it.

"Es-Kay," Obi-Wan said, walking closer to the droid. "That is your name, isn't it?"

It paused and straightened up stiffly to face him. "Actually, my name is SK-9, but Master always calls me Es-Kay. So, you could say that that is my name," it informed him in a mechanical male voice.

"How do you get in here? Tennosa uses a palm lock," asked Obi-Wan in sincere interest.

"I have an internal monitor that I can send a message to Master if I need to." Es-Kay turned back to the tray on the bed.

"You mean, you tell him every time you need those doors unlocked, and he unlocks it?" Obi-Wan reasoned.

"Yes," the droid replied, straightening up with the tray in its hands.

Sweeping surreptitiously around the room, Obi-Wan's eyes came back to the droid in front of him. "Is this room," he asked softly, "bugged?"

"Bugged?" the droid repeated. It leaned slightly back, as if confused.

"Yes. Are there any of your friends hiding around in here, listening to what we're saying?" Obi-Wan said, with underlying sarcasm that he felt sure the droid did not suspect.

The droid seemed to think about what it had heard before replying. "No. I don't think so."

"Do you know if 'Master'," the padawan injected a mocking timbre in the title, "has another ship or any kind of communications equipment in his house anywhere?"

"I-" the droid quickly glanced towards the door, its white-lighted eyes unblinking, then back at him. "I don't think I should be telling you anything like that."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms casually across his chest. "And why not?"

'Because you are his guest here, and he does not want you doing anything without his permission."

"Guest? Does he have any other 'guests'?" the padawan asked, disgusted with the use of the word.

"I do not believe so. Everyone else here is droid. But like I said, I should not be speaking with you." Es-Kay turned to leave.

"You won't tell Master about what we talked about, will you?" Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

"I'm," the droid hesitated. "I'm not so sure I should keep something like that from him."

Obi-Wan stepped to the front of the droid. "But, you don't want him to... hurt me, do you?" Obi-Wan asked, inflecting a hint of trepidation in his voice and widening his eyes in fear.

"Well, I don't know," the droid sounded confused.

"He might - hurt - me if you do. Or he might even wipe your memory, so you can't tell me anything anymore." Reading a droid's behavior was not an easy thing to do, but he felt this droid was falling for his trick.

"Wipe my memory?" the droid said fearfully.

"Yes, wipe your memory," the padawan stressed. "Have you ever had your memory wiped before?" He stepped closer, staring at the droid's bright eyes.

The droid looked thoughtful, at least, Obi-Wan guessed that was what a droid looked like in thought.

"You wouldn't remember if you have, would you? But you don't want that to happen, do you?" he added, pushing his subtle threat.

"No."

"Well, if you tell Master that I've been talking to you, then I'll tell him that you've been telling me everything I want to know. And you wouldn't want him to wipe your memory, would you?"

"N-No," the droid replied, in obvious fright.

"Then tell me where Master's communications unit is, or I'll tell him," the padawan threatened in a hushed tone.

"But-"

"Tell me," Obi-Wan demanded. "And tell me about all of these other droids you mentioned."


TBC