As rough hands shook him into awareness, Obi-Wan did not struggle. He barely had the energy to move. He could not even recall what had happened to him before he had lost consciousness.
As he slowly blinked his eyes open and Shakha's face came into focus, it all came rushing back to him. Looking for the princess, and listening from outside the door to Shakha's mysterious conversation with the old man, and then the attack...
A shiver made its way down his spine as he recalled the attack. There was just something about it that didn't fit, that didn't make sense. Because he would have known if the man was a Force adept, would have sensed it. And yet, the man had plainly not used any sort of weapon; no blaster could have produced such an effect on a Jedi Knight. But what was it, then? How had the man felled him so quickly, so efficiently, with only a touch of his hand? And there were other oddities tugging at the back of Obi-Wan's subconscious, barely out of reach. No, something was not right.
His reverie was interrupted as Shakha reached out with a thin, bony hand and seized the Jedi's wrist. In his high-pitched screech, the pale Hepthara commanded, "You come with me, Jedi. It is time for training."
Though Obi-Wan had no idea what the tiny creature was talking about, he had no desire to argue. Though very weak, he was able slowly to pull himself to his feet. As he did so, he realized that he was no longer wearing his familiar Jedi robes. Instead, he was dressed entirely in the smooth skin of some great lizard or beast. It was very thin and very soft, sliding silkily along his skin as he moved. His boots were of hide as well, but something thicker, stronger, and more familiar. But what kind of people were these that they could slay Rancors to make their clothing?
The Jedi steadied himself and stood upright, following Shakha through a metal door and into another long, white corridor. As they progressed, the air grew warmer and moister until they were walking through the living hallways Obi-Wan had discovered first upon being brought to this strange place.
Obi-Wan toyed briefly with the idea of making a dash for it and losing himself in the maze of long halls, but ultimately decided against it. Though he did not like feeling under Shakha's control, he did not feel that he knew enough of the situation to attempt to escape it. Besides, the thought of running into the mysterious man again petrified him.
Shakha grabbed his arm and they stopped together directly before a patch of the fleshy wall. As Obi-Wan watched in awe, the living wall fluttered and then rolled apart, forming a doorway for the two to pass through.
The room that they entered was perfectly empty, all that was there was a floor made of some hard substance that Obi-Wan suspected was bone, surrounded by living falls and ceiling. The air was filled with thick, slightly acrid-smelling mist. The man winced as it stung his eyes.
Shakha eyed him up and down for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to proceed with a plan. Finally, the Hepthara sighed and reached a hand into his tunic pocket. He pulled something from the pocket and extended it to Obi-Wan. "Training," he said.
Obi-Wan was so unprepared that it took him a moment to recognize it. "My lightsabre!"
Shakha smiled wanly, though Obi-Wan knew that it was an affected expression. "It would not do for you to lose your edge," the creature squeaked.
"Thank you, friend," said Obi-Wan, and meant it. His source of greatest concern the whole time he had been trapped had been the fate of his lightsabre - his most prized possession. Shakha bowed and left the way they had entered. Obi-Wan knew he would return when the Jedi was needed. Obi-Wan ignited the lightsabre to find it working perfectly, though the blade spattered and crackled in the room's damp air. He waved it experimentally, smiling as it appeared to fan out with the quick motion. It felt so long since he had wielded it; he always made it a habit to train daily.
How long had it been, really? He did not know. It felt like ages, but as he thought about the time he could account for, he realized that it could have been a matter of mere hours since he had been brought here.
As he contemplated how peculiar the situation was, Obi-Wan leapt about the room, striking out at the air with the glowing, humming blade. Soon, his skin was glistening with beads of sweat. So absorbed was he in this refreshing exercise that the did not even notice the shadow looming large upon the opposite wall.
