Hey! ff.net is finally back up : ) I'm leaving on a trip tomorrow and
won't be able to post again until at least Tuesday. Thanx for all the
reviews. Thanx to Ginger Ninja for posting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three days passed, each second longer than the previous. Obi-Wan was sure his feet were covered in blisters from standing the whole time. Every few hours, he switched to the opposite foot to relieve the other. He had only recieved about two hours of sleep.
His stomach rumbled and his throat scratched. Once a day, the prisoners marched around their cell twice and were given a piece of hard bread accompanied by a cup of tepid water. What little liquid in his body was sweated off and what little sustinance the boy was given was used up by standing.
Trying to get information from his fellow captives proved to be a useless exercise within five minutes; no one would talk. It was then Obi- Wan noticed that most didn't care about the situation. To them it was just another holding cell that they were to wait in until sold again.
Head down, the boy continued the same self-pity thoughts that had been in his mind for te last three days. Then he would berate himself, reminding his brain that he wsa the one who ran away and tried to hide in the lower levels. Every once and a while he would think about Qui-Gon, and then remembered it didn't matter because Qui-Gon hated him anyway. He often wondered what his friends were doing. Was Reeft gone on another mission although he just came back from a series that kept him away for half a year? Were Bant and Garen causing havoc as usual? Obi-Wan didn't have to ponder much about his newfound friend, Thera, for he was fairly certain that she was in the same position he was.
He was a little worried. Force-dampening collas blocked out one's presence in the Force abruptly, as if he or she died. If someone who knew him at the temple felt the shift, then all his chances of being rescued would be crushed if it was thought he was deceased. So far the boy had found no means of escape, and rescue was the only option.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon found Yoda in the meditation gardens. Right away he knew something was wrong. After living for years with the green one, he picked up on the subtle habits of the aged Master's ears. When happy, they were high up and sticking out. When stressed or angry, the ends curved more than usual. When sad, they dropped low, almost as if they did nothing to help him hear. They were low. Worriedly, the former Padawan sat.
"Occured, a great tragedy has," he began. "I am sorry Qui-Gon, but feel your apprentice in the Force, I cannot."
Jinn braced himself on the ground as a gaping hole opened in his heart. "A-are you saying he's de-dead?" he choked out.
In a whisper so light and saddened thta it brought tears to even Yoda'd eyes, he answered, "Yes."
Biting his lip, Qui-Gon struggled not to cry in front of his Master as his body shook with unreleased sobs. He had been too late; he had failed Obi-Wan, and now the sweet young boy was dead. A small hand warmed his shoulder and a comforting voice told him it was alright to cry. Warm tears coursed down his cheeks as he finally noticed the empty space in his mind where the fragments of the bond had once been.
Standing next to his former Padawan, Yoda's hand never left Qui-Gon's shoulder. The journey ahead would be difficult, and the boy's death would touch many. As the image of Kenobi popped into his head, one lone tear streaked down fromt the green eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The routine all prisoners went through had become ingrated in his mind, so it was a surprise thta the normalacy changed one morning after the daily excersise and lack of food. Obi-Wan did notice that a few slaves acted as it this were nothing; they had evidently lived through this before.
One chained group at a time, all slaves from females to males, and even the rare "it", were herded out and lined in rows. Although not sure if she saw him, the boy spotted Thera. She didn't look any different, maybe a little thinner, but that was the case for everyone.
No one spoke, some being afraid to do so. Those chosed to guard the merchandise, while not allowed to be brutal or openly cruel to damage the goods, settled into instilling fear into anyone who was not aware of the rule. If the boy hadn't known any better, he would've been fooled too. So, not wanting to test the patience of the guards, he decided to add to the silence. If it were possible, his ears hurt from not hearing anything but the soft clatter of chains and the low moans from suffering slaves.
Averting his eyes ahead, Obi-Wan noticed a new face. It was a human female, dressed in an everyday, yet elegant black flowing dress with matcing trenchcoat. Curly blonde strands flowed down to just past her shoulders. Eyes blue but darkened by black eyeshadow, and lips painted in red, the woman held a mysterious beauty. She looked so out of place in the dank, smelly, and dark holding area. Her clothes alone as well as jeweled earings, necklaces, and rings spoke of great wealth of someone who was used to being pampered.
Slowly, she began to walk the lines, starting from the one five rows ahead of Obi-Wan. As she came closer, he could see that she was very slim. To say she was as thin as his lightsaber hilt wouldn't be far from the truth. her fingernails were also blood red.
Every few prisoners, she would stop and look at them, either walking away right away or having a certain one unchained. The head guard trailed not far behind, occasionally speaking to the woman, but Obi-Wan had no idea what about.
Even more detail was revealed as she entered his row. A mole adorned her neck, not contrasting much to the tanned skin. As she neared him, he heard her say, "I need strong workers for the mines and shipping yards. Ones that will last awhile; I grow tired of making this journey several times a year."
The guard gestured to him, causing the boy to tense, "He's a new addition, captured on Coruscant." Lifting a datapad from his side, he fround the prisoner log, then looking at the boy's wrist to find the i.d. number, found him. Eyes widening slightly, he read aloud, "Prisoner A070788. Former name: Obi-Wan Kenobi. According to the report from the capturers, he was carrying a lightsaber to which they discarded."
Obi-Wan's head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing this, the woman smiled, "So you're a Jedi. A Padawan, by the looks of your braid. How old are you?"
Not answering, the boy stared daggers at her. In anger and irritation, she scratched his face with manicured nails, drawing blood on his left cheek. "I can make those who oppose me suffer ten lifetimes of pain and still live to suffer more. Answer me boy!"
Something about her voice told him that it would not be wise to challenge her. Giving up his small battle, Obi-Wan growled, "Thirteen."
The woman nodded, "I'll take him."
While unlocking the chains, the gaurd said, "My lady, it would be wise to keep the collar on in this case. It probably blocks his connection to the thing Jedi use. So he's helpless as a Bimm."
Two other guards came and hauled Obi-Wan by the arms to a group of other newely bought slaves who were chained to a line of gravsleds, three to a sled. He started to fill up another group of three in the back of the line, beginning to fill up a seventh sled.
HIs hands and ankles were bound, not allowing him to move, and the collar didn't even grant him the comfort of being able to look over his shoulder, so he was forced to look straight ahead. Two more joined him before he saw the woman head to her speeder and hand the guard a bag of credits. Taking the ownership papers, she boarded and led the way for the gravsled pilots to follow.
"Hey, Obi-Wan," someone whispered.
Thera! "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Not mentally. Do you know where we're gonig?"
"No, but I never do. To me this is just another trip to another non- paying job for an undisclosed amount of time."
Obi-Wan didn't reply not really knowing what to say. 'How does someone respond to that?!' He supposed that for some, this was all they knew, but to him it was foreign. It made the road to becoming a Jedi seem less hard. While it was not as easy in it's own right, he was beginning to lean other things could be difficult too.
The boy missed the temple. Without knowing, he took his being there for granted, assuming after the events on Melida/Daan that he would never leave except on a mission again. He missed the simple feeling of walking the halls that many walked before him. He missed his friends, his teachers, but most of all he missed Qui-Gon.
The last words they had spoken to each other had been out of anger and hurt; how he longed to change that. He missed the lessons, the guidance, everything, even the silence.
Sighing, he looked to the now and future as the wind whipped everything on him about.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One Week Later
The main entryway was filled with students, teachers, and master's alike. Qui-Gon had no idea Obi-Wan had touched the hearts of so many; even the entire council was in attendance. Yoda stood in the center, everyone falling silent without the small one having to say anything.
"Great tragedy occured, it has. A life lost there has been. Always will we remember young Kenobi. Go on, life wll. He is one with the Force now."
Qui-Gon, through his blurry eyes, saw Obi-Wan's three friends Bant, Garen, and Reeft walk to the center of the the room to Yoda and sink to their knees. Their cheeks wet with tears, they took out their lightsabers. Yoda unearthed Obi-Wan's from which he had borrowed from Qui-Gon.
The four ignited the weapons simotaneously, causing flashes of color to dance around the room. The angled the weapons diagonally so that the tips touched, making crackling sounds. A symbol of the friendship that never ended.
Yoda lowered Obi-Wan's leaving the other three connected. Qui-Gon lowered himself to his knees as his Master approached, handing him the deactivated lightsaber. "Gone, Obi-Wan is," the green one whispered. "But not forever. With us, he will be. See him again, you will."
The three friends deactivated their weapons and returned to their Masters, Bant to her creche Master. One by one the attendees filed out, until Qui-Gon remained alone. Slowly getting to his feet, he took one last look at where the tribute had taken place. Then, turning on his heel, he left, his robe swishing softly behind him.
TBC
Three days passed, each second longer than the previous. Obi-Wan was sure his feet were covered in blisters from standing the whole time. Every few hours, he switched to the opposite foot to relieve the other. He had only recieved about two hours of sleep.
His stomach rumbled and his throat scratched. Once a day, the prisoners marched around their cell twice and were given a piece of hard bread accompanied by a cup of tepid water. What little liquid in his body was sweated off and what little sustinance the boy was given was used up by standing.
Trying to get information from his fellow captives proved to be a useless exercise within five minutes; no one would talk. It was then Obi- Wan noticed that most didn't care about the situation. To them it was just another holding cell that they were to wait in until sold again.
Head down, the boy continued the same self-pity thoughts that had been in his mind for te last three days. Then he would berate himself, reminding his brain that he wsa the one who ran away and tried to hide in the lower levels. Every once and a while he would think about Qui-Gon, and then remembered it didn't matter because Qui-Gon hated him anyway. He often wondered what his friends were doing. Was Reeft gone on another mission although he just came back from a series that kept him away for half a year? Were Bant and Garen causing havoc as usual? Obi-Wan didn't have to ponder much about his newfound friend, Thera, for he was fairly certain that she was in the same position he was.
He was a little worried. Force-dampening collas blocked out one's presence in the Force abruptly, as if he or she died. If someone who knew him at the temple felt the shift, then all his chances of being rescued would be crushed if it was thought he was deceased. So far the boy had found no means of escape, and rescue was the only option.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Qui-Gon found Yoda in the meditation gardens. Right away he knew something was wrong. After living for years with the green one, he picked up on the subtle habits of the aged Master's ears. When happy, they were high up and sticking out. When stressed or angry, the ends curved more than usual. When sad, they dropped low, almost as if they did nothing to help him hear. They were low. Worriedly, the former Padawan sat.
"Occured, a great tragedy has," he began. "I am sorry Qui-Gon, but feel your apprentice in the Force, I cannot."
Jinn braced himself on the ground as a gaping hole opened in his heart. "A-are you saying he's de-dead?" he choked out.
In a whisper so light and saddened thta it brought tears to even Yoda'd eyes, he answered, "Yes."
Biting his lip, Qui-Gon struggled not to cry in front of his Master as his body shook with unreleased sobs. He had been too late; he had failed Obi-Wan, and now the sweet young boy was dead. A small hand warmed his shoulder and a comforting voice told him it was alright to cry. Warm tears coursed down his cheeks as he finally noticed the empty space in his mind where the fragments of the bond had once been.
Standing next to his former Padawan, Yoda's hand never left Qui-Gon's shoulder. The journey ahead would be difficult, and the boy's death would touch many. As the image of Kenobi popped into his head, one lone tear streaked down fromt the green eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The routine all prisoners went through had become ingrated in his mind, so it was a surprise thta the normalacy changed one morning after the daily excersise and lack of food. Obi-Wan did notice that a few slaves acted as it this were nothing; they had evidently lived through this before.
One chained group at a time, all slaves from females to males, and even the rare "it", were herded out and lined in rows. Although not sure if she saw him, the boy spotted Thera. She didn't look any different, maybe a little thinner, but that was the case for everyone.
No one spoke, some being afraid to do so. Those chosed to guard the merchandise, while not allowed to be brutal or openly cruel to damage the goods, settled into instilling fear into anyone who was not aware of the rule. If the boy hadn't known any better, he would've been fooled too. So, not wanting to test the patience of the guards, he decided to add to the silence. If it were possible, his ears hurt from not hearing anything but the soft clatter of chains and the low moans from suffering slaves.
Averting his eyes ahead, Obi-Wan noticed a new face. It was a human female, dressed in an everyday, yet elegant black flowing dress with matcing trenchcoat. Curly blonde strands flowed down to just past her shoulders. Eyes blue but darkened by black eyeshadow, and lips painted in red, the woman held a mysterious beauty. She looked so out of place in the dank, smelly, and dark holding area. Her clothes alone as well as jeweled earings, necklaces, and rings spoke of great wealth of someone who was used to being pampered.
Slowly, she began to walk the lines, starting from the one five rows ahead of Obi-Wan. As she came closer, he could see that she was very slim. To say she was as thin as his lightsaber hilt wouldn't be far from the truth. her fingernails were also blood red.
Every few prisoners, she would stop and look at them, either walking away right away or having a certain one unchained. The head guard trailed not far behind, occasionally speaking to the woman, but Obi-Wan had no idea what about.
Even more detail was revealed as she entered his row. A mole adorned her neck, not contrasting much to the tanned skin. As she neared him, he heard her say, "I need strong workers for the mines and shipping yards. Ones that will last awhile; I grow tired of making this journey several times a year."
The guard gestured to him, causing the boy to tense, "He's a new addition, captured on Coruscant." Lifting a datapad from his side, he fround the prisoner log, then looking at the boy's wrist to find the i.d. number, found him. Eyes widening slightly, he read aloud, "Prisoner A070788. Former name: Obi-Wan Kenobi. According to the report from the capturers, he was carrying a lightsaber to which they discarded."
Obi-Wan's head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing this, the woman smiled, "So you're a Jedi. A Padawan, by the looks of your braid. How old are you?"
Not answering, the boy stared daggers at her. In anger and irritation, she scratched his face with manicured nails, drawing blood on his left cheek. "I can make those who oppose me suffer ten lifetimes of pain and still live to suffer more. Answer me boy!"
Something about her voice told him that it would not be wise to challenge her. Giving up his small battle, Obi-Wan growled, "Thirteen."
The woman nodded, "I'll take him."
While unlocking the chains, the gaurd said, "My lady, it would be wise to keep the collar on in this case. It probably blocks his connection to the thing Jedi use. So he's helpless as a Bimm."
Two other guards came and hauled Obi-Wan by the arms to a group of other newely bought slaves who were chained to a line of gravsleds, three to a sled. He started to fill up another group of three in the back of the line, beginning to fill up a seventh sled.
HIs hands and ankles were bound, not allowing him to move, and the collar didn't even grant him the comfort of being able to look over his shoulder, so he was forced to look straight ahead. Two more joined him before he saw the woman head to her speeder and hand the guard a bag of credits. Taking the ownership papers, she boarded and led the way for the gravsled pilots to follow.
"Hey, Obi-Wan," someone whispered.
Thera! "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Not mentally. Do you know where we're gonig?"
"No, but I never do. To me this is just another trip to another non- paying job for an undisclosed amount of time."
Obi-Wan didn't reply not really knowing what to say. 'How does someone respond to that?!' He supposed that for some, this was all they knew, but to him it was foreign. It made the road to becoming a Jedi seem less hard. While it was not as easy in it's own right, he was beginning to lean other things could be difficult too.
The boy missed the temple. Without knowing, he took his being there for granted, assuming after the events on Melida/Daan that he would never leave except on a mission again. He missed the simple feeling of walking the halls that many walked before him. He missed his friends, his teachers, but most of all he missed Qui-Gon.
The last words they had spoken to each other had been out of anger and hurt; how he longed to change that. He missed the lessons, the guidance, everything, even the silence.
Sighing, he looked to the now and future as the wind whipped everything on him about.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One Week Later
The main entryway was filled with students, teachers, and master's alike. Qui-Gon had no idea Obi-Wan had touched the hearts of so many; even the entire council was in attendance. Yoda stood in the center, everyone falling silent without the small one having to say anything.
"Great tragedy occured, it has. A life lost there has been. Always will we remember young Kenobi. Go on, life wll. He is one with the Force now."
Qui-Gon, through his blurry eyes, saw Obi-Wan's three friends Bant, Garen, and Reeft walk to the center of the the room to Yoda and sink to their knees. Their cheeks wet with tears, they took out their lightsabers. Yoda unearthed Obi-Wan's from which he had borrowed from Qui-Gon.
The four ignited the weapons simotaneously, causing flashes of color to dance around the room. The angled the weapons diagonally so that the tips touched, making crackling sounds. A symbol of the friendship that never ended.
Yoda lowered Obi-Wan's leaving the other three connected. Qui-Gon lowered himself to his knees as his Master approached, handing him the deactivated lightsaber. "Gone, Obi-Wan is," the green one whispered. "But not forever. With us, he will be. See him again, you will."
The three friends deactivated their weapons and returned to their Masters, Bant to her creche Master. One by one the attendees filed out, until Qui-Gon remained alone. Slowly getting to his feet, he took one last look at where the tribute had taken place. Then, turning on his heel, he left, his robe swishing softly behind him.
TBC