For full disclaimer, refer to ch1
Remnants: The poem thing that i've been doing, I didn't make it up! It's an old song (you probably already know this) and it was the theme song for the 'Thomas Crown Affair', it's a really nice song and i recommend listening to it. I heard a group sing it and it almost made me cry and I decided there and then that i was going to use it in a story....didn't realise that i'd use it here....Also, i don't think Obi-Wan is going to go over to the Dark side, he doesn't even know it exists at the mo....
Aflak: I was thinking about giving Obi-Wan a name but i've read too many fics where it goes, "I'll call you....." and i'm like, "Gee, i wonder, don't tell me, ohhhh! i know, you'll call him Ben [sarcastic like]" and i thought that being called by a number would drill in his position further. No name, no identity, no self-respect.
Mydogisfudge [nice name...]: I know it's strange that i'm writing about it since i hate it so, but ever since i read Cassie's fics (read them, they're fabolous!!!) i got stuck into reading young Obi fics and i guess it kinda rubbed off. But when I watched TPM everytime they pulled out their lightsabers and tried to look all serious i just cracked up laughing everytime. Dad wasn't impressed!! Besides i like writing....
GoldenRose: Sure thing Yoda!
****Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said?
- The Windmills Of Your Mind
****Obi-Wan sighed. He hated being by himself and this job had to suck the most. He looked around taking in his surroundings. He was in the storeroom, stacking up the shelves. As he took out the junk metal and put them in their appropriate boxes his mind wandered away and he did his chores with automatic fingers and glazed eyes. He did feel slightly better today but he could tell that something wasn't right with his body. It was still too hot. He sweated aimlessly but the sweat trickling down his back did nothing to make him feel any better. Despite the coolness of the rain, he was afraid that it had made him worse. Getting sick was not a simple thing in this factory. The last time he had seen someone fall ill a couple of days later he hadn't seen him again. His body trembled violently and he cursed inwardly. (I do NOT need to get sick…..i will NOT get SICK!!!) By sheer force he managed to get his body under control and he hid his anger at his weakness by forcefully throwing the metal parts into their prospective bins. (Dammit, I do not want Billy getting all maternal on me again).
Obi-Wan's frown deepened as he thought about Billy's overprotective obsession. He did not need her to be fussing all over him as if he was a little kid. No thank you. Admittedly she did look out for him and she was a fabulous friend but when it came to him and his freedom she tended to be stifling. She sounded exactly what parents would sound like…….
…………..parents?"Yeah. Who were your parents?"
"Parents? What are they?"
"You don't know what parents are?"
Silence, then a small whisper, "No."
Billy sighed and gently put her arms around the boy. At first he stiffened underneath her touch giving rise to her suspicions about the boy's previous owners but slowly he gently relaxed into her embrace. She rocked him softly, feeling his confusion with the world around him. They were inside some holding cell, made especially for transporting slaves. As the boy pulled himself gently out of her arms the chains that tied her ankle to the wall clinked and she pulled on it irritably.
(To not know your parents, to not even know what parents are. This child has been deprived) She thought as she looked at the form beside her. He looked so small and insecure that her paternal instincts flared up and she had a sudden urge to shelter him from all and any harm. Instead she sidled closer to him and began explaining in her nicest voice she could muster.
"Parents are the people that made you. They look----"
"How?"
"After----what?"
"How did they make me?"
Billy's face flared a deep red. "Uhm, by a process called sex."
"What's sex?" He just couldn't stop asking questions. Everything seemed so new to him, yet it also seemed old. Like he could see the grey outline of the ideas but it wasn't clear. Like he had dreamed up all the answers in a dream and had now forgotten them.
"It doesn't matter!" Billy snapped just a tad too curtly and immediately regretted it when the look of sorrow flashed over the boy's face. He looked down and mumbled, "I'm sorry, it's just that…..i don't know anything……at all, and I should!" He was getting angry at himself now, "Why don't I know anything???"
Billy could have kicked herself for being so inconsiderate. "Look 456. It's not your fault, you couldn't stop what happened to you. It's my fault for snapping at you anyway. Just forget about sex for a moment. Parents are the people that look after you when you're a baby. They love you unconditionally and they don't get mad if you stuff up. They are always there for you to support and help you when you're going through a hard time."
"Then why aren't they here now?"
Billy sighed, "Because when we reach a certain age we leave home to go make a life for ourselves and maybe make a family with someone else dear to us."
"And that's where sex comes in right?" Billy grinned. Just like every other male she had met, 456 shared the universal obsession with sex. (What is it with guys about that issue?)
"Yes, that's where sex comes in 456. Look, can we stop talking about that though?"
"Why?"
"Because we just don't."
"Ok then. But if parents are so wonderful and loving why would you want to leave them?"
"Because when you reach a certain age you don't want to be stifled and suffocated, no matter how well meaning their love is. Everything they do just ends up grating on your nerves and although you love them, you have to leave them. It's the way the universe works."
"Ohhhh. So parents can be……….."
…………….annoying. That;s what Billy's attitude was. Annoying. Although well-meaning and friendly it did tend to get annoying. He grimaced and kept going with his job. (This really really really sucks).
****Qui-Gon paused. He couldn't bear to watch this. He was at a slave market, out searching for his padawan and the sights and sounds that met his eyes were disgusting and gruesome. Walking skeletons were being sold, beaten and killed. In actual fact though, he hadn't seen anyone murdered but he could see the evidence of it. The sickly, sweet smell of rotting flesh had invaded his senses when he walked through the gates into the selling arena. When he had flashed his eyes over the place to work out the origin of such a rank smell he had been horrified at what he had seen. Bodies were hanging from ropes, heads impaled on spikes surrounded the bidding stage and black birds flew squawking to the cages where decomposing corpses were rotting inside. Apparently it seemed that the slaves that weren't sold of were 'disposed' of here. Qui-Gon fervently hoped that Obi-Wan hadn't been one of them. (Although, he was in good health and has good muscle definition so he probably sold) the thought although comforting sickened the big Jedi.
Qui-Gon couldn't help staring at the sight in front of him. It was so cruel, inhuman and despicable that he didn't believe that it could be happening in front of him. A older, deep-set man was beating a thing on the ground with a heavy staff. The man was screaming and although the thing was cowering on the ground beneath his feet he didn't relent in his beating. The harsh screams of the unfortunate creature echoed out through the arena but no one paid any attention to it – screams and shrieks were an everyday occurrence at the slave-markets.
Qui-Gon clamped his jaw and strode quickly over to the man's table. This was sickening, he was going to stop it. If he didn't the man would beat the thing to death. As he walked over his foot splashed in something and unconsciously he looked down and stared in horror. He withdrew his foot and put it down gently on the pavement beside him, leaving a bloody footprint on the pavers. He had stepped in a pool of blood. His eyes followed the stream that connected and stopped on the thing being beaten. A sense of urgency surrounded him and he nearly ran the rest of the way to the man.
(Diplomacy is going out the window) "You will stop beating that slave" Qui-Gon gave the man a Force-suggestion with the flick of his wrist.
"Oh, I will, will I? Hey Mister, why don't I make you a deal, you buy him and I'll stop beating him." The man gave the tall Jedi a toothless grin and prodded the heap on the ground with his foot.
Qui-Gon frowned as he heard a moan issue from the thing. He had come up against a wall with the man's mind, his mind was too strong for him to enter without him noticing. Most slavers had strong natural shields just to block out the emotions that they felt. (Ok, plan B)
"Why were you beating him?"
"Because he is an impudent slave." The man tried to think of a good bargaining strategy, "He will give you great pleasure when you finally break him."
Qui-Gon had to mentally stop himself from punching the man. Instead he said in an oily voice, "Really? That does give me great pleasure. To finally see them broken and pleading when they used to think they were so……..equal." He laughed maniacally while thinking (If I wasn't a Jedi and sworn to peace I would kill this man). What he was saying sickened him but he had to stay in character. "How much?"
"2000 credits."
"He is not worth even a ¼ of that. Look at the damage inflicted, he is damaged goods. 1000"
"1500"
"1250"
"Deal!! He's all yours mister!" The man handed over the slaves chain and folder containing his 'resume' of past work and offences. "Get up you lazy oaf!" He gave the mound a kick and was about to deliver another when Qui-Gon's glare stopped him.
"Do you mind? I'm going to take my slave home to break him myself. I like to think that it was all my handiwork. It fills me with a great sense of satisfaction. If you touch him again I will not take him……."
"Uh, sure thing mister!" Qui-Gon handed over the credits and the seller spun around and went back to checking his merchandise. Qui-Gon noticed that he limped heavily using the staff as a walking stick, its wood shiny with blood.
Qui-Gon turned back to his newly bought 'slave' and crouched down beside it.
"Can you walk?" All he got in return was a groan. Scowling at the man's back Qui-Gon ran his hands gently over the slaves body trying to check out his injuries.
"Bruising, broken ribs, small internal bleeding, not so bad considering, seems all the blood came from flesh wounds," he muttered to himself while assessing the slave. With great care he tenderly picked up the slave and carried him out of the arena back onto his ship.
He laid the body on a bed and started tending to it. It was so dirty he couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Long, matted hair trailed down it's bloody back, all tangled into a single rat's tail. The whole body of the slave was a dusty brown, the parts where it wasn't bloody or raw. Dirt and dust covered it in a thick layer. While Qui-Gon was washing it's wounds he couldn't help thinking, "Is Obi-Wan like this?" and, "What am I going to do with this slave?".
He hit a sore spot and the slave moved slightly, groaned and opened it's eyes. They were glazed and dulled with pain. They alighted on the Jedi Master's face and it opened it's cracked and parched lips and uttered a single word that caused Qui-Gon's heart to freeze.
"Master?"
(Obi-Wan?!?!)
****I'm going to be away for about a week, starting Monday. I"m getting on a bus for a 7 hour road trip to drive 700km into the city (i live in rural Australia, as in, rural Australia, so i'm thinking should i leave you with this cliff-hanger or should i put in the Obi-Toture in the next chapter? Majority of reviews win, if i get none, you're left with this cliffhanger!! [Fan: That's blackmail!!] [Roz: I know!! *maniac laugh*] So review away!!
Do you realise that i've written 24 pages so far? It seems really long in Word but on ff.net, it seems short actually....