Sorry, Cerasi5, I didn't really mean to confuse you (or maybe I did). Take it as a sort of fairy tale ;-)

Athena Leigh, and I wrote this story. Now who's weird here :D

Glad you, people, like. And here's some more.

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Having been welcomed by a toothy smile that looked more like a sneer Kamon and Namira were ushered into a spacious old-furnished room with tall windows framed with heavy velvet curtains. The windows, however, could barely produce enough light to dissipate the dusk, lurking in the corners.

A disturbing sight greeted them here. An old man – who was not too old in years but apparently had aged prematurely by some tragedy – was sitting in a hoverchair with a mournful expression plastered firmly on his face. His features bore a striking resemblance to Namira's face, though his face was neither young nor lovely being schooled into an expression of grim despair. [i]Is this Namira's father?[/i] Kamon wondered. He tried to remember what he knew about the man, and as the memory surged up it all clicked together. Indeed it had been a terrible tragedy that painted his hair white and took away his ability to walk. Apparently it had been the death of his wife that stole the spark of life from his eyes. Eyes that were surrounded by a thin net of fine lines, eyes that had been, apparently, once full of mirth, but held now only sorrow and great weariness.

A bunch of people dressed in black surrounded the hoverchair the head of Imata House was condemned to use for the rest of his life in a tight circle, hovering around the man like kites. The man – a prisoner in his own house – raised his weary eyes slowly at the sound of the opening door, and a look of total dejection came over his face as he saw who the newcomers were.

"Father!" Namira exclaimed, jerking to run forward, but cut short by an iron-like grip around her elbow.

The old man's hand pulled at controls, trying to send the hoverchair forward, only to be stopped by one of the guards. An almost hate crossed the old man's features, twisting them momentarily into a mask of revulsion, flashed in his eyes – sky-blue like Namira's, but hardened by experience.

"Well ,well," the man who brought them here – apparently the leader of the group – said, all but dragging Namira to a heavy wooden chair placed at a low polished table. "Our runaway friends have finally come to the nestle." He shoved the girl into the chair none too gently and motioned for the guards to surround the young Jedi who was still standing at the door. "Let's see, I believe there's something you should sign." The man fiddled with papers in a mockingly careless manner, looking straight into Namira's face with ice-cold brown eyes, as though trying to pin her down like a mot. Finally he pushed a flimsy to the girl who stared at him with wide eyes full of terror. Kamon could feel waves of nervousness, almost panic, radiating from Namira. Even a non Force-sensitive could have picked on her feelings from her rigid stature and the way she tried to hide her trembling hands. But then something shifted in the Force, and Namira took a deep breath, as though coming to a conclusion.

"I…" her voice was thin, and she coughed, blushing slightly. But she managed to pull herself together with a visible effort. "I will not sign anything," she said, firmer this time.

With an icy smile that never reached his eyes the man pointed his blaster at Namira's father. "And if I ask… [i]really hard[/i]?" he taunted.

In the deadly silence that fell upon the room Namira's sharp breathing echoed loudly. The air was full of fear and uncertainty that lay around like a heavy cloak. Kamon could see hesitation on Namira's face. Doubt in her eyes. She was wavering. Her eyes left her father's figure to turn to Kamon as though asking his counsel. But what advice could he give? Had he even the right to give any advice at all? No. His was not the right to make decisions. He could only support whatever decision she made.

And support she needed, it was clear. Slowly Kamon reached into the Force, severely wishing that it would work, and touched Namira's shoulder with the warm tendril of compassion. The girl started slightly at the touch, but then Kamon saw realization dawn in her eyes, quickly followed by gratitude. He never even wondered that she, being absolutely blind to the Force, could feel his touch, experience his support. He only rejoiced in the newly found connection.

"I will never sign anything you want," Namira declared in an almost regal tone, startling the man with the blaster for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Kamon saw tears well up in the eyes of her father, tears he first mistook for those of regret, but those were tears of pride. And Kamon was proud, too. Until…

A shrill warning of the Force jerked him back into the harsh reality. In slow motion Kamon saw the sneering man pull the trigger. With a Force-enhanced speed the young Jedi rushed forward… and knew he was too late. In a flash of light the blaster bolt hit the old man straight in the chest, sending the hoverchair swirling back with the momentum. A wild woman's cry of grief resonated throughout the large room, reverberating in the air until the echo of it slowly died away in the darkened corners. 

Next moment the quiet and noble room turned into a complete mess as the nine men tried to seize one Jedi boy, having no regard for any obstacle on their path. Finally they managed to grip him, terminating all of his attempts for struggle. Kamon, beaten and detained but not broken, looked at Namira and was struck by the image he saw to the core of his heart. A quivering girl, kneeling next to her dead father sprawled on the floor, stroking his face and hair with feather-like touches as though afraid to hurt him; tears streaming down her pale cheeks – an embodiment of grief. The last thing he saw before being dragged away were her huge tearful eyes, troubled like stormy waters of a great ocean.

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Qui-Gon strained his eyes, trying vainly to see through the thick emerald foliage of tropical forest below his ship. He indomitably tried to catch a sparkle of a ship's surface, a glimpse of something like a lone house, at least anything that would hint at the kidnapers' location, but the exuberant flora of the tropic wood concealed everything perfectly. He, the ever largest admirer of the Living Force in all its variety, wanted nothing but one - that all this profuse greenery would go to hell and let him find his apprentice.

He had made a circle around the planet, painstakingly exploring every inch as best he could. But he had come to only one conclusion: the people he was looking for were not on the snow-covered rocks of the poles. That left the woods, covering most of the planet's surface. Endless kilometers of woods. Desperation was steadily creeping up in him, taking away more and more of his determination with every passing minute. He fought it vehemently, never wishing to give up. But the obstinate ugly head of despondency appeared again and again, more candid each time.

"I will NOT give up," Qui-Gon grumbled through clenched teeth, straining his eyes for the hundredth time. His vision had long since lost its clarity from looking at the emerald brilliance of the forest below. But he was still straining his eyes, loath to admit it was useless.

The planet was scarcely populated, and the Jedi Master had already contacted all the settlements, asking about the landing ships – and got a negative reply everywhere. Not trusting their information completely – or the informants for that matter – he had flown over each settlement, searching the open landing pads for any sign of a republic-designed space ship, searching the Force for any trace of a Dark Jedi. And finding none.

Pausing his taxing search for a minute, Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair, closing his abused eyes wearily, letting the ship hover over the tops of the gigantic trees. What if he didn't find his Padawan? The thought drove a needle of a twisting raw pain into his heart. How many times had he come to being close to losing Obi-Wan? So many. Way too many! Then why did it hurt so much each and every time? It had always ended with him having his pada- his son back. So far. But how long would it continue? How long would they be so lucky? Wouldn't it be different this time?

Forcefully Qui-Gon jerked himself out of his loser thoughts. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He wouldn't let himself travel down that path. He would have faith!

With a new resolve the Master straightened in his chair – and felt razor-sharp blinding pain cut through his scull. Instinctively he clutched his head with both hands. His first thought was that he had straightened too quickly, and he wondered if he was getting too old. Another surge of pain crushed into him, throwing his head back as if it were a physical blow. A wave of fear rolled over him, drowning him momentarily, but it was quickly replaced by an even more intense pain.

"Wh-a-t is th-is?" he moaned, not hearing his own voice through the pounding of blood in his ears.

A new pain exploded in his head, sending him tumbling onto the floor. He struggled against burning nails that seemed to pierce the very core of his being. He could barely see anything through the bloody haze that clouded his eyes. Abruptly his body started to convulse under the mysterious brutal assault. A minute later the Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn stilled, lying crumpled on the floor of the ship that continued to hover silently like a ghost over the lush forest.

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Still hesitating but resigning himself for whatever the future held Obi-Wan moved from the wall he was standing in – he tried hard not to think about how exactly it worked that he was [i]inside[/i] the wall – to fit into the physical version of himself. Immediately an enormous surge of power overflowed him, starting from his body as a whole, then splitting to affect him on a molecular level, merging every cell of his physical body with his astral projection. The dark dirty room suddenly seemed ablaze with myriads of colours, and the young Jedi closed his eyes against the intolerable brilliance. However, even closed eyes didn't save him from the assault of grinding light that stung his eyes even through the tightly shut eyelids. A new unimaginable power slammed into him next, sending his grasp on reality, time and dimension into the abyss of tangled threads. For a moment he felt as though a cocoon had been wrapped around him, tightening, twisting. Then a string sharp like a needle pierced his mind, eliciting a cry from his tightly squeezed lips.

And then it was all gone.

Carefully the young man cracked one eye open the slightest bit. [i]Did it work or not? Did it? Or not?[/i] a steady beat of thought sounded in his mind. Not seeing anything special he opened his eyes fully – only to promptly shut them again as the harsh blinding light assaulted the retinas of his eyes. The numbness in his body and spirit started to fade, and one by one the senses started to return. Carefully Obi-Wan probed each of them, finding his reactions extremely, even painfully keen. At last he opened himself to the Force…

And immediately regretted it. Never in his life had he been stripped of all his shields fully; not even in his early childhood when he hadn't known anything about shields but still had some of them up, instinctively. Never had he experienced such a connection to the Force, to all the living beings – who seemed to take residence in zillions here – wherever here was. The radiance of the Force, the depth of it overwhelmed him, sending a cascade of raw power straight through his already worn out mind. But the next instant things taught to him from infancy kicked in, and the basic fraction of his shields slammed up automatically, lessening the Force's power to a manageable level – if only barely manageable.

Sighing softly at the welcomed calmness, he shifted a bit. He had no clue why all his shields had been suddenly gone, as he had no clue where he was. Tentatively he reached into himself, to the core of his being, to bring up more of the shields for he wasn't sure if he was able to survive without them. The shields went up immediately, much to his relief, blocking out the intolerable keenness of the ambient world.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, welcoming the mild darkness that filled them now, and searched out his companions. He found them standing at the far wall – if anything could be called 'far' in the tiny cell without windows where even the air seemed to be pressed around him like a heavy blanket. Fagot winked at him, making an odd face while Asasello simply nodded his head with something akin to satisfaction flickering briefly in his dark eyes. Then they simply vanished, leaving behind just a memory.

Feeling strangely forlorn Obi-Wan turned his attention onto himself, noting with dismay that his wrists and ankles were bound tightly with a grubby rope and that something cold and metallic was twisted around his throat. Feeling suddenly exhausted to the point of falling asleep the young Jedi reached his hands to try to unbind his ankles, only to have an electro-shock send him staggering back against the wall. Cautiously he raised his hands to touch the metal ribbon around his neck. An electric collar. And a holo-cam in the upper corner. Sighing he reached into the Force only to have it slip right through his fingers like fine sand. The incredible connection to the Force he had experienced only moments before seemed to have sank into oblivion.

"Wonderful," he muttered, unable to contain his displeasure.

His limbs felt numb, from being tied for a long time, he supposed. How long had he been 'away' anyway? Nothing around him sprang out at him to give him the answer so he reached for his memories and almost jumped in shock. He had memories of both his otherworldly journey and his body's memories of what had happened during his 'absence'. What he couldn't tell, though, was how much time had passed. Were it hours or days, he had no measuring instrument of time at his disposal.

He considered his options and found them to be very few. Particularly: to stay here and wait either for something to happen or for his strength to return – whichever comes first.

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Anisa looked down at the planet - Amaltea was it? - that loomed before their ship. They had followed the kidnappers here, had watched them land amid the lush prosperity of the tropical forest.

[i]A great hideout,[/i] Anisa thought with a malicious smile. [i]Given that no one knows about it, of course.[/i]

She turned in her chair to look at her companion again. Pale blond hair shone with a matte glow in the cockpit's illumination; deep steely-gray eyes stared intensely at the control panel. His whole figure spoke of might and grace. Some would call him handsome, but as a soulhunter Anisa had an ability to glance into his soul. And she wouldn't ever call him even nice for what she saw in his soul were total blackness and corruption.

Of course, she wasn't all that white and clean herself. She remembered all she had done, working for Arones, and to her dismay she didn't really feel disgusted, though she knew there was nothing to be proud of. But she was still the same person, and one deed, no matter how changing, couldn't make her someone else.

Perhaps in time…

She turned her eyes away to stare at the viewport yet again.

Snadi directed the ship down, almost touching swaying treetops with its polished belly. After about a minute of the low flight the man suddenly slammed the control buttons. The ship shuddered and jerked but obediently hurtled down in an almost vertical fall. For a moment Anisa thought they were going to crush into the ground, and fear gripped her heart with a chilly hand. But at the last second possible Snadi stopped the fall, and with a screeching sound the ship froze on spot having ploughed a deep line in the moist soil. Anisa huffed a sigh, threading her trembling slim fingers through her hair.

"What was that? An attempt to impress me?" she asked with cockiness she didn't feel. She desperately needed to disguise her fright. And wasn't attack the best defense?

Snadi gave her a cold glare, but something in his eyes made her pull her jacket tighter around herself.

"Get ready," he threw at her, exiting the cockpit. Were those mocking notes she heard in his voice? How dare he?! Angrily she got up from her chair and slammed the button hard to open the cockpit door. Finding a vent for her recent fear in pointless aggression she cooled somewhat. She walked a few steps to a little room to change into a more suited clothes she had with her in a small bag, wondering if it had been so good an idea to call Snadi. And concluded it was not. She would need to get rid of him. No, not kill him, just get away from him. The sooner the better. She only needed to think of a way to do so. With these thoughts she pushed a button to open the door to a tiny room.

Anisa pulled on a black shirt and paused, looking at her reflection in a wall mirror. She looked like a pirate woman from a holovid. Black fitting dress, black knee-high boots. Dark brown with flames of red streaks hair disheveled over her shoulders. That would not do. She gathered them into a single braid and coiled it into a tight bun on the back of her head. The last detail: she pulled black thin leather gloves on her hands. She had always owned these gloves, but never used them – until now. Somehow she was glad she had never used them for something dishonest. Exquisite as the gloves were it seemed almost a blasphemy to use them in something dissolute. She looked herself over again. Yes, she did look like a pirate from a holovid. But this was no holovid, was it?

She checked her blaster, put it in a stun mode and placed it into a holster on the leather belt that embraced her slender hips. Throwing one last glance in the mirror, she walked briskly out of the room and came nose to nose with Snadi.

"Ready?" he asked, looking her over with something akin to hunger, lurking deep in his light eyes.

She looked steadily up at him. "Yes."

Without another word he turned and went to the ship's hatch. Anisa followed, uncomfortable. With a loud swish the hatch opened, letting heavy and moist forest air flow inside in waves. Snadi jumped down onto the ground like a wild feline – graceful and deadly. His black cloak fluttered on the wind. Anisa landed lightly next to him.

Stealthily they crept through the forest, trying to make as little noise as they could – two hunters on a rescue mission. Anisa smiled at the thought.

Before long, they reached the camp where abductors hid. Moving a large leave aside Anisa peered cautiously from behind a huge extensive bush. At least half a dozen beings, humans and aliens, were walking about their business on a shaded clearing, covered from above by voluminous leaves of bordering trees.

"What are we going to do now?" Anisa whispered to her companion.

"Break in," he whispered back, and even in his whisper she heard the mocking notes. He was mocking her! She raised her hand in an irrational and fervent desire to slap him, but her hand stopped in mid-air as he stood up. She followed suit and froze watching him. Calmly the ex-Jedi walked into the open. The guards at the camp didn't detect him until he made at least two steps forward. Finally noticing the intruder, they stared silently at first, his blunt manner throwing them off balance. But they quickly recovered, drawing their blasters and pointing them at Snadi, who didn't even flinch. The guards didn't pay any heed to Anisa, focusing all their attention on the black visage of the former Jedi before them. [i]Is he mind-tricking them somehow?[/i] Anisa wondered. She had heard Jedi could do that.

The first blaster shot echoed loudly throughout the glade, followed immediately by a snap-hiss. A red lightning flashed in the air. Anisa instinctively took a step back. Was this a lightsaber? She had never seen them before but was sure it was one. Blaster fire erupted, and for a second Anisa thought that the guards would kill Snadi right there – surely one can't survive under the blaster fire of six trained men. She couldn't say she was very unhappy about the prospect, though.

But the next moment it was over, and she knew she was very wrong. Six men were lying on the ground dead or dying, and Snadi was standing in the midst of them like an ancient god of death. Cautiously Anisa approached him, looking down at the defeated men. Some of them bore blaster wounds, some had deep glaring burned cuts.

Not looking at her Snadi proceeded towards a stone run-down house the roof of which was completely covered by huge leaves of the surrounding trees. With a wave of his hand he slammed the door open, not caring about the noise it produced. Anisa drew her blaster, determined to not let him kill people when they could be stunned.

In the next few minutes the sunny day turned into a nightmare. People and aliens ran at the couple of intruders to only be thrown down either by a stunning blaster bolt or by a hissing and flashing red lightsaber. The narrow corridor turned into a scene of carnage in an instant. Snadi walked forward, never wavering, never hesitating. [i]How does he know where to go?[/i] Anisa wondered, but didn't dare ask. She had a strong feeling that if she asked he might turn on her and kill her as well. The raging fire in his eyes only served to strengthen her unpleasant hunch.

No one was attacking them anymore, but Snadi didn't extinguish his lightsaber, striding forward self-assuredly. An unarmed man came up before the Dark Jedi. With a wide swipe Snadi slashed the man before him, letting him fall to the floor and kicking the body aside with the end of his boot. Then he calmly hung his weapon onto his belt.

This was the last straw for Anisa. "Why?! Why did you do this?!" she cried, not caring if someone heard her. "He wasn't even armed!"

Snadi looked at her with cold curiosity as though she were a lower life form that forgot its place and tried to attack a predator. Anisa chocked on her angry words and backed away from him. An icy smirk cracked his lips, and Anisa shivered. Without a single word Snadi walked a few steps to a dirty gray door and opened it. On wobbly legs Anisa followed him.

She peeked inside the room to see the familiar incredible blue-green eyes staring back at her. Something clicked inside her. Forgetting about Snadi she ran inside and crouched next to Obi-Wan, trying to untie him, murmuring something softly in a fit of incredible and unexpected relief. As soon as she freed his hands she started to untie his ankles. A sudden snort made her raise her head and look at Snadi who was still standing in the door-frame, blocking what little light was coming from the corridor. A dirty smirk played on his face, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

"So, you are Obi-Wan Kenobi." It wasn't a question. Obi-Wan looked at the man, narrowing his eyes. "I am looking for an apprentice, you know," Snadi proceeded almost nonchalantly.

"I will never turn to the Dark Side," Obi-Wan said firmly, getting up from the floor. Anisa got up as well, some sixth sense telling her to run - fast. Only there was nowhere to run.

"So sure? And what if I kill her?" Snadi pointed a finger at Anisa, startling her.

Obi-Wan glanced at her with something shaded deep in his eyes, then returned them to the Dark Jedi. "I will not let you."

Red light basked the tiny room in crimson.

"Really?"

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