Official Disclaimer: As usual, I am not making money from this and no copyright infringement was intended. Every character in this fic belongs to Lucasfilm, not me, except for Payton and Boh. And if you want to use Boh in a fic for some reason...you're a very disturbed person.

Author's Note: *ducks to avoid hard objects thrown in her direction* Sorry about the wait for this chapter, but my time was taken up by school and god-awful ACT classes for a very long time. Now that that test is done, I can return to semi-normal updating. And just for everyone's information, the fact that Boh is a clinical psychopath (though I won't go into a lot of detail on it) influenced me to up the rating to R, so if you are disturbed by things of this nature, consider yourself warned. Thanks for your patience, and don't forget to leave a review on the way out! *she does the over 60 review dance...for the first time...^_^*
And some shout outs...

Spazoid: Oh yes... *gives an evil grin* Oh, and no major Obi-torture, I promise.
Culf: Back and badder than ever!
Anna Skywalker: I love randomness. *pulls out a bin of rocks for the other readers*
Igne Draconis: Thank you. And I'm glad to know someone got the name!
Rings of Saturn: It's a kind of metaphor. I randomly lapse into those... but thanks!
Shelia: Glad you liked it. :)
Cherryblossem Goddess: Thanks!!!!! And yes, the update's finally here.
Jedilittlebee: Methinks your Force premonitions are right. ^_^
Jules: Thank you.
Death Rider: Oh don't worry, more is ahead...hope you enjoy this one!
Agent Jaid: Yes, Sir! Or Ma'am, whichever applies... ;) And I'll take that suggestion into consideration.
Exile

Part 8

By Ender
Slick blood ran down Obi-Wan's face as he tumbled to the ground, his cuffed hands bound uselessly behind his back. He could hear Payton struggling behind him as the guards threw them into a small room, the Tora growling curses in multiple languages at their captors. They had been captured on the hill an hour earlier, his painful ankle preventing them from running for cover.

With a thunderous bang, the door slammed shut, automatic locks hissing shut as Payton snarled in frustration.

"What the hell is this?"

Confusion bled through his words as the older man kicked at the wall and then sat down hard next to Obi-Wan with a grunt. The former Jedi managed a to bite back a groan and gave a small grin at his friend's lapse in composure, adjusting himself so he sat against the wall with the pressure off of his leg. Dull lighting cast strange shapes around them, the crack in the door the only source of light. The young man stared at the patterns around them and let his thoughts wander for a brief moment, just as puzzled as Payton.

/No, / he admonished himself, shaking his head lightly as he tensed his muscles, /you need to focus. Clear your mind. /

Jedi training kicking in, Obi-Wan drew his legs in and assumed the closest thing to a meditation posture he could manage. Years of instruction enabled him to lapse into a calmer state almost immediately, and for once in his life he could honestly say that the long hours of meditation had paid off. Qui-Gon would've been thrilled. He gave a firmer shake at the thought of his former Master and reined his thoughts back in. Minutes of rumination revealed nothing but an uneasy feeling and he gradually drifted back to reality, opening his eyes to meet Payton's gaze.

"I have no idea what's happening," Obi-Wan replied slowly, finally addressing Payton, "but we need to find out."

They waited in the semi-darkness, silent for a time until Payton leaned forward, now more collected. Stray hairs fell across his face, hiding his worried gaze.

"How's the leg?" he asked, flicking his head towards the injury with a questioning look. The younger man moved the extremity slightly and gauged the pain.

"Not bad, for now, but-" The rest of Obi-Wan's reply was cut off by the murmuring of the airlocks as they let out air and opened, yellow light flowing through the wide entryway.

Three men stood in the doorway, though only one strode forward to tower over the prisoners, the other two remaining behind to stand ominously. Obi-Wan blinked through the intense light that assaulted his eyes, and focused on the new man, blinking furiously. A glimmer of recognition fired in his brain as the man's face came into view, but Obi-Wan couldn't place it. A cold smile broke across the man's face as he saw Obi-Wan, his calculating eyes glimmering with a look of malice. Obi-Wan felt a burning wave of fury pass through his body as the memory finally came to him.

"You," he snarled, straining against his bonds, not bothering to try and restrain himself. The man's grin deepened and his white canines shone in the illumination.

"You remember me, little Obi-Wan?" Boh stepped forward and grabbed the young man by his hair, pulling them eye-to-eye.

"Because I certainly remember you." His smile faded as he slammed his heavy boot down on Obi-Wan's bad ankle, steadily increasing the pressure as he kept his grip on the former Jedi's hair.

Obi-Wan squirmed in agony, the pain threatening unconsciousness. Eyes shut tight, he tried to accept the ache and release it to the Force, but it was too overwhelming. Almost giving in to the blackness, Obi-Wan gasped as Boh released the leg, rolling onto one side as he groaned, his face pulled up into a grimace. Payton lunged forward, but was met by one of the guards and thrown into the wall.

"Weakling," Boh spat in disgust at the former Jedi, turning away to address his men. Obi-Wan merely attempted to banish the pain, not aware of Boh's insult.

"Who the hell are you?" Payton yelled, anger clear in his voice. "Why are you doing this?"

Boh spun around to view his hostages as he ignored Payton, one of the other men advancing in an unspoken threat. Boh's tone was nonchalant as his voice turned to ice.

"Kill them."

~~~~~~~~~~

Qui-Gon pulled his flowing cloak closer to his body as he rounded a corner, his pulse racing. He had narrowly missed another guard seconds before, but the deep shadows cast by the jagged edges of the building had shielded him from view. The steady thud of the pacing guards footsteps echoed through the night as Qui-Gon briefly rested his head against the wall, worn out to a degree by the hour of running and hiding that had taken place after he witnessed his companion's capture by armed men. Slowly the reverberations died away and silence took its place, the blood rushing in his ears the only audible sound.

As soon as the area was clear, he moved as quickly and surely as a feline, smooth movements barely moving the air around him as he slid around the corner. Adrenaline surged through the Jedi as he shot off to the small opening in front of him, his enhanced senses picking up the guard gradually returning. Taking measure of the control panel in a moment, Qui-Gon pulled the cover out of the wall and studied the wires, his Jedi training helping him to analyze his form of attack.

The hairs on his neck rising as the sentry drew closer, he grabbed two wires, red and yellow, and bound them together, muttering a small prayer to the Force under his breath. With a soft groan, the tiny door slid open, bright moonlight reflected off of the marred silver finish. Wasting no time, the big Jedi crammed himself through the small opening, then threw his shoulder hard against the broken entrance to close it again. It gave with a grinding screech, Qui-Gon grimacing with effort and the knowledge that the sound was probably heard for miles. He stared in the blackness in front of him with unfocused eyes, then turned inward and let the Force flow through his body.

Reaching out, Qui-Gon could feel the mind of the lookout, now nearly on top of him. Sifting through the layers of confusion, fatigue, and suspicion, the Jedi probed the man's inner thoughts and pushed with the Force, covering his thoughts with confusion and a subtle suggestion to leave. The man reached for the door, resting his hand for a moment against the cool metal before obeying, his trudging footsteps barely audible through the door, but definitely retreating. Qui-Gon allowed himself a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair, taking his hand off of his lightsaber. With a deliberate slowness, he turned to the blackened corridor behind him, willing his eyes to adjust.

/Where to go now. /