Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the FB, I really appreciate it and I'm thrilled that you guys are enjoying the story. =D I like reading your reviews, especially since I'm hardly getting any FB at all on the other places where I post this. It's nice to know people are reading.  BTW – sparinta, thanks for catching the "drying" typo, I can't believe I missed that!  I fixed it!

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Four: Tauntingly Familiar ~

Obi-Wan:

Pain expanded in my chest as I began to grow lightheaded. My lungs felt burningly empty and my heart pounded in sheer agony. My head thudded, causing my vision to swim, and I knew that if the man didn't release me, I would soon pass out. Through hazing eyes I struggled to make out my Master's form. Qui-Gon, with soaked and dripping hair, had frozen in place and was staring at my captor with what I shockingly realized was fright. Fright for my life.

Through the rain I heard loud footsteps approaching from the other side of the ship and squinted to see two people, just as large and imposing as the one who held me, emerge from the darkness. I could not see them very clearly but I knew, by the angle of their glowing yellow stares, that they were poised to jump Qui-Gon, and that my Master had seen them. Normally he would have moved – prepared to defend himself – but now he stayed completely still, and I could sense that he feared one false move would end my life.

"Release him," Qui-Gon commanded with a wave of his hand, imbuing his voice with a touch of the Force.

A bitter laugh sparked fear deep within me, "Save your tricks, Master Jinn, they will not save your apprentice," if possible, the blade dug further into my skin and I could now feel my own blood coating my flesh, running in cool tracks down my body with the rushing rain. "Surrender, or I will cut his throat and you can watch him die."

My own fright at realizing that he was Force-immune barely registered in my mind as the world began to swim in rippling waves around me. Through our bond I could feel Qui-Gon's stab of worry and I knew that although he was not one to easily give in, he would never endanger my life.

Qui-Gon would surrender, would let them capture us both in order to save my life. These people had to be responsible for the sabotage. How else would they know who we were and why else would they be attacking us? They wanted us dead. Once they captured him, they would kill us both anyway. There was no reason for him to sacrifice himself needlessly. I couldn't let him die for me.

Go, Qui-Gon, I urged him, fighting off the darkness in hopes of staying conscious just a few moments longer, Leave me.

My Master shook his head firmly, Never, his voice brooked no room for argument.

The emptiness in my chest was unbearable now and obscurity even thicker than that of the storm was rapidly encroaching upon my mind. I could barely think, but I refused to give in. Please, I pleaded softly, don't let yourself be captured as well, they'll only kill us both. Some part of me knew that Qui-Gon was too stubborn to back down once he had made up his mind, but I couldn't condemn him to this senseless death as well, couldn't die knowing that. Go!

When he didn't answer, I knew I had failed. Qui-Gon raised his hands and made an acquiescing gesture of surrender. When two of my captor's comrades stepped forward on either side of him, he stared straight into my eyes and allowed them each to take one of his arms and pull it back behind him. Holding him tightly in a grip that had to be painful, they forced him to kneel and one of them deftly bound his hands with electro cuffs that shown brightly in the night.

My Master turned his unwavering gaze to the man that held me, "Release him," his voice was firm, betraying none of his emotions, but when he spoke them I could feel the uncertainty that filled him. He was worried, worried that they would kill me anyway. I was worried that they would kill the both of us, that my Master's unwillingness to leave me would end his life. It was a thought I could barely manage to finish, even in the silence of my own mind.

My captor sneered, his hand pulsing hotly against my smothered skin, but after a few moments of purposefully painfully stressing moments, he drew the tip of the blade out from my skin and slowly withdrew his hand.

Sagging forward, I forced down gulped mouthfuls of air through my constricted throat. My frantic, heaving, inhalations battled the clattering rain with the loud sound of rasping as air flowed through me in massive quantities. After filling my abused lungs with oxygen several times, the stinging lessened but I continued to breathe deeply, reveling in the simple sensation of my rising and falling chest.

It was only when the pain calmed and my heartbeat leveled off to a normal pace, that I realized my captor had taken hold of my arms and was pinning them together in back of me, thus straining the muscles of my shoulders and holding me immobile.

Sadly catching and holding Qui-Gon's gaze, I shook my head gravely. Despite my undeniable gratitude towards this man who was both my teacher and friend, I rebuked him softly, You should have gone, you should have left me.

I could not let him kill you, he responded, voice equally as severe, the guilt would have torn me apart. The relief was palpable both in his tone and through our bond. He had truly been scared that they would have killed me if he had fought or ran. I knew that he was right, that these people were after our lives, but it was astonishing to feel that emotion in him when usually he was able to control such feelings.

I closed my eyes against the flood of caring that welled up deep within me. I would always be humbled by this man's sense of honor and loyalty, by his willingness to make such sacrifices for me, but I couldn't banish the fear from my mind that told me we did not have long to live.

~~~~~~~~~~

Our cell, if you could call it that, was smaller than an escape pod and more like a rectangular box. Widthwise, it only extended about an inch on either side of my Master's shoulders, which made extensive movements impossible. I, being much smaller and more compact than Qui-Gon, would have had enough room to lie down – had I been alone – but as it was, all we could do was sit, facing each other, with very little space in back of or between us.

The moon, revealed for several instants by the brief parting of the thickened clouds that blanketed the sky, had shone a flash of light upon one of our captors, allowing the glimpse Qui-Gon and I needed to identify the species. They were indigenous of Tarcalia, a world with brutal weather conditions and ferocious wild animals. Having adapted for survival, Tarcalians were large – almost eight feet tall – and built for power. A thick coat of fur covered most of their body, giving them the appearance of humanoid bears. Their sharp, gleaming fangs and their long hooked nails, which were more like claws, made them dangerous, fierce fighters. That, and their powerful nocturnal vision, heightened sense of smell, and amazing speed, explained why they had survived on such a harsh planet.

Qui-Gon had hoped that our captors would let their guard down while they brought us here, but escape had been impossible. Registering little notable worry, he, of course, had easily slipped into a meditative trance. I had immediately set upon trying to find a way out of this cell. I was very surprised that our captors hadn't killed us right away and planned on escaping before they had another chance. Try as I might, however, I could not even manage to make the ceiling, which had sealed just a few inches over Qui-Gon's hair, budge. I had pushed against it and tried to use the Force to weaken it, but had accomplished nothing.

Finally giving up, I had settled back and tried to meditate. I was having a little – or rather, a lot – more trouble than my Master. I simply could not stop fidgeting, or keep my mind from racing. It frustrated me to be caught here, unarmed and helpless, waiting for the Tarcalians to come back and finish off what they had started when they sabotaged the ship.

The clattering of rain against the metallic box resonated and echoed distractingly, and the box trembled in the wrath of the wind. I couldn't hear the Tarcalians over the storm, but I knew they were out there, and the thought made me even more nervous. I couldn't just sit here without doing something.

Sighing again, I opened my eyes and looked around the small cell for something I had missed, something we could use to escape. Perhaps there was another entrance other than the ceiling; maybe one of the walls was removable…

"Don't waste your strength," Qui-Gon spoke softly, opening his eyes to gaze at me sternly, the rebuke for my impatience evident in his voice and stare.

Bowing my head in apology, I said, "Forgive me for disturbing you, Master, but we need to escape before they return."

Qui-Gon smiled faintly, "This is a Tarcalian Ice Box, Obi-Wan. Escape without outside help is impossible. It is built from Sacrillian metal, which even a lightsaber cannot cut through, and is Force-immune. Completely resistant to weather, it repels heat and absorbs the cold, filtering it in so that the interior slowly becomes unbearable to its occupants."

I frowned; Qui-Gon was just now informing me of this little piece of information? "You let me search for a way to escape for nearly a half hour when all along you knew I would find nothing?" I questioned incredulously, "Why didn't you tell me in the beginning?"

"I was hoping that after trying to escape you would curb your impatience and meditate, or at least relax and wait. You have learned much, but you're still unable to wait when the situation offers no other options," Qui-Gon spoke sternly, but also very gently. Whenever he reproached me he never made his intention to teach by causing hurt – he was always candid yet kind.

His words did not sting – I knew that I had come a long way and that I had earned both Qui-Gon's trust and friendship, and indeed I appreciated his kindly offered criticism for I knew it would only serve to help me improve – but I did find myself extremely embarrassed. He was right, again. I was too quick to act and too slow to accept it when I realized there was nothing I could do. Despite all of Qui-Gon's lessons, despite the fact that I knew he was correct, I still frequently succumbed to my impatience.

The heat of a blush touched my cheeks and I ducked my head, feeling the tinge of shame hang over my heart. My Master had been testing me – seeing if I would realize the futility of my actions without his interference – and I had failed. "I am sorry, Master," forcing myself to meet his eyes, which held his infinite patience, I continued contritely, "I know I should have improved in this area by now."

My Master shook his head and extended his arm to tug on my braid gently, "Don't be sorry, Obi-Wan. Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses. You never fail as long as you learn and improve. You will conquer your impatience…with time."

I smiled. There it was again, his understanding when instructing me, never directing a note of impatience or anger towards me. It was one of the many reasons I respected him so deeply. "Thank you, Master…" I said, and then, hesitantly, I touched his hand, which still lingered at my braid, "Thank you, for everything." I was thanking him for not leaving me, and he understood that although, for his own safety, I had wanted him to go, I was glad that I wasn't alone.

He merely smiled and nodded, not needing to say anything more.

Silence lapsed between us in which my Master returned to meditating and I considered our captors' motives and intentions. If before I had been confused as to who wanted to kill us and why, now I was even more so. Why did a group of Tarcalians want us dead? Were they related to our last mission, or this mission? Neither seemed likely, considering their species had no interest in either planet.

Tarcalians were ruthless and distrusted. After an incident on Morraca Crine where a visiting Tarcalian had gone "hunting" and killed several fellow tourists, they had become unwelcome on virtually every planet in the Republic. Some governments had even gone as far as to make their presence illegal. This knowledge did not set my mind at ease.

I shivered and rubbed my hands over the wet sleeves that covered my arms. The air was a cold touch against my skin and my wet, mud-caked tunics, just now beginning to dry, were like ice. It was even more freezing than it was outside, and now that Qui-Gon had told me about this "Tarcalian Ice Box" I knew that it wasn't just my imagination and that it really was getting colder.

The fear which had been firmly lodged within me since our capture began to grow as I realized a possible reason that the Tarcalians hadn't killed us yet. Perhaps they were intending to take a less direct route, perhaps the Tarcalians meant to leave us in here until the temperature became unbearable and we died…

"Obi-Wan," I looked up to find Qui-Gon's eyes fastened to my own. "An opportunity will present itself," his voice was reassuring and I knew he had sensed my emotions.

I tried to keep my tone light but my words had a frustrated seriousness to them and were tinged by my fear, "Will that be before or after we become one with the Force?"

Qui-Gon gazed at me thoughtfully before speaking again, "You seem certain that they will kill us." It wasn't a question.

I nodded, "Yes."

He frowned and I could sense he was slightly confused by this, "Why?"

For a moment I stared at him in disbelief, but then I remembered that I had never told him about the sabotage – we had been interrupted. Hoping he would have the insight he usually managed to possess, I filled my Master in on what I had found when I had examined the ship and on my theories, lacking as they were, as to who might have been responsible.

Qui-Gon intertwined his fingers and leaned back against the wall of the cell, his expression thoughtful. I waited, as patiently as I could, as I sensed him sifting through the information I had given him, coming up with his own conclusions. Which apparently he wasn't going to share with me, seeing as how he wasn't saying anything.

I was about to question my Master regarding his thoughts but stopped short when I felt him using our bond to draw me into a type of meditation I had never been taught before. It was strange, very different from what I was used to, because instead of focusing our thoughts inward, my Master was extending us outward.

Master? I sent to him, What are you doing?

Finding some of the answers you are so eager for, he responded.

I frowned, having absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Since when had Qui-Gon picked up Yoda's annoying ability to code everything he said in cryptic overtones? What…?

Hush, Obi-Wan, he interrupted, and listen.

Silencing my curiosity, I quieted my thoughts and did as my Master bid. It was then that I realized Qui-Gon had established a connection to the Force much deeper than I could normally achieve. It was very similar, thought not quite as powerful, to my amazing experience with it during the crash, but there was no visual component to it. It was solely auditory.

Through my Master, I could hear not only the storm much more clearly, but also the other sounds that had before been washed out by it. The sounds were heard more in our minds than in our ears, and I realized that Qui-Gon was using an ability known as Forced-enhanced hearing to spy on our captors.

"What do you want us to do with the shuttle?" someone was asking, and I immediately realized it was the man who had captured me.

"Leave it there," a thick voice with an echoing crackle answered, sounding as familiar to me as it did sinister. There was something about the way the words were uttered that filled me with a very real sense of inexplicable fear, and sent a shiver down my spine, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise in warning.

"You know that they will examine it," he spoke it as a warning, but I could sense that it had no real concern behind it. Almost as if the Tarcalian had no true interest in the affair, which was strange considering they were behind the sabotage and our capture.

A particularly loud roar of sudden thunder resonated through the small cell just in time to mix with the cackling laughter that the remark produced. "I'm counting on it." This time the words were accompanied by the telltale hiss that could only be that of a long distance communication, telling me that the person the Tarcalian was speaking with was not present.

Again, the voice sounded intriguingly familiar to me. I could not place it as that of someone I knew well, or had even dealt with more than infrequently, but I knew that I had spoken to this person, and recently. It seemed like the answer was just within my sight, yet I could not grasp it.

"And once they examine it," he continued, his sneering voice taunting me cruelly as I struggled to put a name to it, "the ever-intelligent Jedi will know that it was sabotaged, which is exactly what I want." The word "Jedi" was spoken in pure malice, with such hate behind it that it ignited a mild pain within my heart.

The few moments of silence only served to heighten the tension that had filled my body upon hearing each word that was spoken, and the following almost giddy proclamation made my skin crawl. "They will find the sabotage, but won't know who to blame. Then, as they fall victim to each of my schemes, they will wonder and guess as to who is behind it all, but only at the last moment, only when it is too late, will they know I am the one responsible."

The man speaking hated us. Hated us with a fury that seemed to swarm through the Force and attack my mind. That loathing was so powerful that it tinted his words with a touch of insanity. These negative emotions that clenched at my heart and embittered the waves of the Force were directed solely at Qui-Gon and myself, and that knowledge nearly made me tremble. We were trapped, helpless, in this cage, at the mercy of the Tarcalians and this man who sounded all too eager to make my Master and I suffer.

It was as clear to the Tarcalian as it was to me, for the silence that followed told me he was unnerved by whom he was speaking with. "Do what you will," he finally answered, "it is of no concern to me. My men and I will do as you say and be finished by the break of day. When will you deliver the rest of our payment?"

"It is already waiting for you onboard your ship, along with an extra surprise to…thank you for your work," the response was spoken with an impatience so familiar it haunted me, and although the Tarcalian seemed to accept this, I knew this 'surprise' was not something pleasant.

"Very well then," my captor answered, "we will return to the ship when we are done here – do not expect to hear from me again unless something goes wrong."

"See that it doesn't," came the torrid reply, which was followed by a high pitched click that signified the end of the conversation.

No further words were spoken, and had it not been for the ever-constant sound of the storm – the sweeping winds and billowing rain – complete silence would have ensued. The words exchanged left my soul as chilled as my body was. They filled me with such a feeling of foreboding – an ominous beast that was hunting me, just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and devour – that it took me a few moments to calm my fear, and even then it was still there, a nagging presence I could not ignore.

Swiftly, almost abruptly, Qui-Gon snapped the meditation and withdrew from our bond until we were connected at our normal level once again. For a brief moment, before he could fully erect his shields, I sensed a flash of disorienting pain emanating from him and was immediately filled with worry for his health. Perhaps his wound had not healed as well as I had thought.

Opening my eyes, I studied my Master's face. His skin was slightly pale and his breathing was irregular, almost erratic, but his expression seemed more one of exhaustion rather than extreme pain. "Qui-Gon?" I whispered, leaning forward to gently touch his head, probing for any unusually harsh instinctive reaction to discomfort.

My Master opened his eyes and smiled shakily, but his eyes were a little hazed. "I'll be all right, Obi-Wan," he assured me, removing my hand from his forehead and intertwining our fingers, "I underestimated how much energy it would take to do that, and I'm rather drained and a little dizzy, that's all."

I stared at him for a few long moments, worried that there was something more that he wasn't telling me. Perhaps he didn't want to burden me with concern for his wellbeing when we were trapped in a cage with no conceivable way out that did not involve our captors forcibly removing us. However, just as he had once told me to never keep anything from him for concern that it would distract him during a mission, I wished he would not try to protect me in that way. I, however, knew Qui-Gon very well, and realized that he would not tell me if he had made up his mind not to.

Squeezing his hand, I remained silent, considering what we had heard. The brief exchange between the Tarcalian and the other man clearly proved that the former had been hired by the latter and had no involvement past collecting money for an assigned task. That cleared up some of my previous confusion, but I was still left wondering who this man was. It seemed obvious that he was the one behind both the sabotage and our capture, but what were his motives and why did he hate us?

From what he had said, it was obvious that this was not all he had planned for my Master and me. This suggested that he was either on this planet, or on his way here to carry out whatever his 'schemes' were. Apparently the Tarcalians would be through with us by the following morning, and although I could clearly sense that the man responsible for all of this wanted us dead, I knew they would not be the ones to do it. Perhaps, besides completing whatever task had been mentioned, they meant only to hold us here for the man to do with as he pleased.

Our mission here was to negotiate a treaty between the Marynes and the Sarocks. The two humanoid tribes had been at war for centuries before they had finally been able to settle their differences and work together. Eventually they had developed a unified government ruled together by a Maryne Director and a Sarock Director. For the last three hundred years the two peoples had coexisted peacefully, developing a trust that many thought would never be achieved.

Now a dispute between the two Directors threatened to return them to the path of violence. The Council had been extremely vague on exactly what the problem was, but the two Directors had both requested Jedi assistance in hopes of settling the matter. Perhaps this man did not want the two Directors to sign a new treaty. It was plausible, but that would not explain why he clearly despised us so much.

"I doubt that this is related to our mission here, Padawan," Qui-Gon spoke with his usual insight into my thoughts, "I feel that the man behind this has a much more personal vendetta with us, or perhaps the Jedi in general. I am sure you sensed his hatred – it was that of a man scorned. Other than using this opportunity to try and kill us, this has little to do with the situation between the Marynes and the Sarocks."

Wearily, I rubbed my temples. Qui-Gon was always able to take things in stride and forever seemed to be at least ten bounds ahead of me in his reasoning. I swear I spent half the time during our missions scrambling to catch up with his leaps in thought and his awareness of what was going on. "How do you know?"

My Master eyed me as he spoke, "I can feel it in the Force. However, I still have no idea who this person is, or what his motives are." Somehow I had the feeling that he was trying to make me feel better about not always feeling or knowing the same things he did.

"I do not understand," I began slowly, seeking to change the subject, "how that man expected us to survive the crash. He obviously has…much more planned for us – he even hired the Tarcalians to capture us – but we barely managed to land in one piece. His 'schemes' would have been caught short had he not been able to carry the rest of them out."

Qui-Gon smiled and by the glint in his eyes I knew he had seen something that I hadn't – which was usually the case. "Did you notice that the two systems on the shuttle that were left functioning were the ones we had to have in order to crash land?"

I sighed; I didn't quite understand what he was getting at. "You forget that we both would have died if it hadn't been for the Force. It we had not been Jedi, the shuttle would have been destroyed in the storm, even with those systems."

"But he knows that we are Jedi – the Tarcalian knew my name when we were captured," he added pointedly, "That could have been taken into account when tampering with the vessel. If he knows our capabilities, he would know that we could use the Force to land."

Who would know that about the Jedi? Who would take the risk of being wrong about our abilities? I had never been so connected to the Force – if I hadn't managed to achieve that, we would have died and the rest of this person's plan would have been ruined. To be so sure that we would survive, he would have to know more about us than I cared to admit.

I shook my head and closed my eyes. There was nothing that frustrated me more than being so powerless but I could not let my fear rise up again, for it would only turn to irritation and then anger. Those emotions would only cloud my judgment. There was, indeed, just cause to be afraid, but as a Jedi I knew that I should not fear death. Whether or not the Tarcalians had been instructed to hold us until our real assailant could kill us, I had to be ready to accept death, and ready to escape. Such was what I had been taught.

My Master, of course, sensed the change in me, "Good," he praised, "keep that in mind instead of dwelling on your anxieties. It will help with the waiting that you find so difficult." His tone was teasing and I smiled slightly.

Grateful for the chance to lighten our situation, I grinned, and giving my best attempt at imitating my Master, said, "In other words, we must keep our focus on the here and now, Padawan."

Qui-Gon laughed and tugged on my braid, "Well," he said teasingly, "at least I know you pay attention to me."

TBC…(on Saturday)