Author's Notes to come later.


See Chapter One for disclaimer

Enjoy!

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Chapter 20

"Son of a Sith!"

Obi-Wan rambled off at least a dozen more swears as he purposely tumbled over the speeder bike backwards at the sight of the soldiers—and the blaster that had suddenly materialized in Yuko's small hand.  One tiny scream of pain slipped past his lips before he bit his tongue.  In his haste to get behind the bike, he'd partly landed on his broken ankle.

An onslaught of unexpected mental yells calling his name nearly deafened him.  Agitated, he quickly shot back, {All right already!  I hear you!}

Gasping from the pain that still shot up from his ankle and holding a hand to the burns on his side that had unceremoniously been aggravated he lay still, trying to catch his breath until a well-aimed shot sent dirt flying into his face.  His short lack of attention of the matter at hand allowed his injured leg to be hit.  It immediately went limp, useless now thanks to a stun bolt shot by none other than Yuko.

At least it doesn't hurt now, the young man thought sarcastically.

Grumbling something about the lack of honor in battles during his day and age, Obi-Wan rolled to his stomach, wincing when his burns brushed across the ground, and started to crawl towards his cousin's abandoned bag.  She had left it tied to the bike.  Inside, Obi-Wan knew he should find her blaster, which he desperately needed seeing as his lightsaber was all but useless in his current circumstances.

When one blaster bolt came just a little too close for comfort to his hand, he used the Force to start the speeder bike's engine and commanded it to move forward at the same, agonizingly slow pace as himself so that it could be used as a shield.  Just as he reached into the bag and pulled out the blaster, a wild shot impacted with his cousin's possession and ignited a set of papers that contained information about Antiyo.  The fire began to spread quickly, feeding greedily on the tall prairie grass and heading towards their camp.

With another string of swears that was composed of over five languages frolicking across the tip of his tongue, Obi-Wan literally threw himself on the speeder bike and gunned the engine, nearly sliding off in the process.  He had no idea where he was headed to, but if the Force cared to torture him again in the future, then it would lead him safely to his comrades.

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 Qui-Gon came to an abrupt, sliding halt, just barely giving the Force a chance to warn the two teens behind him.  Garen, whom had been right at his heels, nearly ran into the master but twisted at the last moment to land on the Jedi's right side.  Marie quickly leapt to Qui-Gon's left and the three went back to back as laser bolts from the enemy's blasters began to rain down on them.  Qui-Gon risked a glance in the direction he'd last seen his apprentice, surprised and worried to see he was no longer there, and nearly took a blast straight in his main saber hand because of it.  He flicked his wrist up at the last possible moment so that it left only a small trail of burnt flesh behind.

From his right, Qui-Gon suddenly felt a strange emptiness.  Sure enough, when he called Garen's name the boy didn't answer.  Frustrated, he moved over slightly so he would be able to feel Marie behind him.  In the distance, Garen's purple lightsaber chopped and blocked repeatedly.

What is he thinking! Qui-Gon growled to himself.

The young man still had so far to go to overcome his biggest weakness: Restlessness.  It seemed the stillness exercises Clee had given him hadn't worked as well as she'd thought—Garen was still too impatient to let the fight come to him.

"Ah, Master Jinn?" Marie asked hesitantly.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, backing up to her a little more.

"It's two things actually."

A blaster bolt whizzed past her ear, forcing Qui-Gon to bring his weapon over his head to deflect it while at the same time making sure he didn't decapitate the young woman.

"Concentrate, Little One."

"Of course, Master, but uh—"

"Well spit it out!" the Jedi Master said tersely, aggravated by Garen's foolish move and the fact that he was deflecting nearly half of the shots that belonged to Marie as well as his own.

"You're stepping on my cloak!" Marie exclaimed.

Doing his best not to blush, Qui-Gon stepped off the young Jedi's cloak and resumed his fighting.

Marie sighed deeply in relief and began to make up for all the shots she had missed.  "Thank you," she gushed, blowing her breath out.

Qui-Gon nodded, although he knew she couldn't see him.  "Was there something else you wanted to tell me, Little One?"

"Yes—Fire!"

Qui-Gon looked sharply to his left and saw that indeed there was a fire—a fire he had previously mistaken as the one in their camp, but he quickly came to realize that it was on their camp—all over it in fact—and devouring it like a famished wampa.

"Obi-Wan…" he murmured, sweat glistening along his furrowed brow.

Oh, where was Obi-Wan?

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A flash of white caught Garen's eye as he lunged forward to block a rapidly approaching bolt.  Something—he wasn't quite sure—lured him to the area the brief glimpse of color had come from.  Without a word to his comrades, he darted towards the spot and was shocked to discover Obi-Wan laying behind the speeder bike, a blaster in one hand and his unignited saber in the other.  The older apprentice looked into the face of his childhood friend, illuminated a plum color from his weapon, and audibly sighed in relief.

"Thank the Force.  I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep them from advancing with only a blaster."

"Your lightsaber—"

"Won't do me much good if I can't even stand up on my own, now will it?  I think I destroyed any of the healing the bone in my ankle had done a few minutes ago.  Not to mention Yuko blasted me with a stun bolt.  It has about as much life in it right now as a rock, and I don't mean the one Qui-Gon gave me for my thirteenth birthday either," he added with a grimace.

Garen frowned, making a mental note to tell Obi-Wan a little later what Qui-Gon had concluded about the boy that had suddenly appeared.

"All right then, Kenobi," he growled softly instead, preparing himself for the inevitably long battle ahead.  "Stay behind that bike and I'll see how long I can hold them off."

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Antiyo pried his eyes away from the micro-night binoculars he held just long enough to take the proffered message away from the lackey that presented it.

Everything was going perfect: his troops had blocked access to the valley from the main path and had either scaled the mountain side or boarded silent air crafts that hovered just out of view until it was time for the ambush to begin.  The Jedi may have realized something was wrong, but not even the great Qui-Gon Jinn had figured it out until too late.  His four enemies had been separated, and with over 100 well-trained soldiers, Antiyo knew they wouldn't last long, especially when reports indicated that one of the stupid apprentices was already incapable of fighting before the battle even began because of an injury.  And as an added plus, a fire had suddenly and unexpectedly been aroused and was quickly spreading throughout the valley.  Although it blocked the main path, cutting off a fourth of his soldiers, it also guaranteed that the Jedi's only means of escape was destroyed.  If he was lucky, they would throw themselves off the side of the mountain in an attempt to escape, where they would either be shot by one of his soldiers or sliced into unrecognizable shards by the sharp boulders below.

Yes, he thought with a smirk, looking down at the message.  There was no hope for the Je—

Antiyo practically choked on the very air he breathed as the text on the message sank in.

With eyes bulging and his jaw quite close to dragging along the floor he crumpled the note up and ran to the east viewport of his modest sized ship.  Pulling his micro-night binoculars back up to his eyes, he scanned the sky above them.

An unidentified vessel had somehow managed to sneak up behind the Togorian warship stationed on the planet's East Side.  With some crafty maneuvering it had led them on a small chase, and then suddenly it had flipped and turned to face them, coming to an abrupt halt.  By the time the Togorians had realized what was happening and stopped their ship, it was already too late—they had walked straight into one of their own mine traps.  Now they were floating around in space in a quickly 'dying' ship because of a few, precise shots fired from the other vessel that left them with no operating systems.

The unidentified vessel—a Corellian ship being the only thing they knew—was presumably coming their way according to the reports of its last sighting.

Cursing, Antiyo hurried over to his ship's pilot and pointed a long, thin finger to the fight below.  "Set this ship down now!" he barked, checking his blaster's charge and reaching for more weapons from a nearby cart full of deadly items.

"I want those Jedi dead and their heads presented to me on a platter by morning.  Even if I have to do it myself!"

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Siri clutched the arms of her chair with white knuckles and looked cautiously at the Jedi Master beside her, afraid that if she moved too quickly she may lose her dinner.  Their pilot was swerving, dipping, stalling, and generally jerking his small Corellian freighter around like a mad man.  Despite the green tint to her cheeks, she found herself having fun.  It wasn't everyday she got to fly under the grace of such a talented pilot and she loved adventure, even if Adi sometimes chastised her for liking it too much.

"Adventure a Jedi seeks not," her master would lecture, mimicking Master Yoda's lessons.

Biting her lower lip, Siri resisted the urge to belch as the pilot jerked his ship straight up.  She had an idea where it would lead her if she did—

Crazy ship maneuvering leads to an upset stomach.  An upset stomach leads to belching.  Belching leads to vom—

"We're through!"  The pilot grinned in just the way Siri imagined a mad man would and adjusted a few controls as he pushed the ship's steering mechanism forward, causing them to dive rapidly and begin their descent towards the planet's surface.  He turned to Clee, whose orange eyes seemed duller than usual, a tiny hint of green draped across her smooth visage.  "Good to see you're still with me," the pilot laughed.

"It's been fun…really," the Jedi Master replied, grimacing slightly.  Slowly she uncurled her fingers from the armrests they had been clenched to, leaving indentations from her fingernails.  "And although I hate to spoil this joyride, we really need to find our companions.  We just need to figure out where to look."

"How's that place for starters?"

Clee leaned as far forward as her restraint harness would allow and looked in the general direction the pilot was pointing in.  Although still far off in the distance, a large fire and hundreds of laser bolts being shot back and forth could easily be seen.

The woman frowned.  "Qui-Gon sure knows how to attract trouble.  Or perhaps it's that pretty little Padawan of his."

"No," Siri blurted out, "Obi-Wan attracts only two things—Girls and pain.  Qui-Gon attracts trouble.  So you see, Obi-Wan attracts the girls, which Qui-Gon then attracts the trouble from and when those two combine, you're virtually always going to have pain."

Clee's orange eyebrows shot up.  "Uh, thank you for that interesting bit of—information—Siri."

Turning back to the viewport she asked, "Captain, how long until we get there?"

"Ten standard minutes, give or take a few.  How long until the sun comes up and exposes us?"

Clee smiled sarcastically.  "Ten standard minutes, give or take a few."

The captain grinned to himself and slowly shook his head, amused.  Jedi these days…

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Block, jab, duck, roll, twist…

Marie repeated the maneuvers in her head, dancing to her right just as three soldiers fired simultaneously at the spot she had been standing in only a few nano-seconds ago.  She and Qui-Gon had given up fighting back to back awhile ago.  There had just been too many soldiers.  Their opponents had slowly joined together, and now confident in their numbers—and the fact they had the Jedi cornered—they began to advance quickly.

Spinning once to her left, Marie disarmed a soldier that had come too close for comfort. In a blur of blue-green light she ducked, rolled to her left, came up and disarmed two more soldiers, then somersaulted over the heads of a dozen surprised troops.  Using their pause to her advantage, she dropped to the ground and kicked the legs out from under four of the men.  Once back on her feet, she twirled her lightsaber with both hands, disarming another man before lunging forward and just brushing the tip of her weapon against two of the men's belts.  Their trousers dropped around their feet, keeping them occupied for the moment on something other than Marie.

Seven down, five to go…

Performing a tight back flip, she landed behind the soldiers that were so close she could literally feel their heavy breath upon her neck.  A high split-kick knocked two more to the ground and a strong Force-push that required much of her waning strength sent the remaining three skidding along their bottoms until they crashed into the cliff wall.

Marie, panting from the exertion, took a moment to wipe the sweat from her eyes and ready herself as the next wave of soldiers surrounded her.  As she regretted having left her blaster in her bag—which was now surely nothing but ashes—she realized grimly that if they didn't find a way out of this mess soon, she wouldn't get the chance to complain about the UJP's lack of teaching cooperation.  Although at the moment, that particular topic sounded quite trivial, as she was sure none of the soldiers cared to cooperate with her…

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Nearby, Qui-Gon fought with a ferocity he hadn't used in quite a few years.  The experienced Jedi Master used his surroundings more so than his Padawan's cousin, but the advantage it gave him was only slightly better.  Not as agile as he had been in his younger days, Qui-Gon relied more on strategy and the Force instead of acrobatics.

Purposely allowing himself to be backed into the cliff wall, Qui-Gon waited for his opponents to make their move.  When they finally decided to charge him, he smiled slightly, because the Force had told him that was exactly what they were going to do.  With a rather simple leap, made stronger half by pure muscle and half by the Force, he soared over the heads of the two dozen soldiers currently pursuing him.  Before they could think do to anything, he had disarmed eight of the soldiers and hit seven more with such a strong Force suggestion to sleep that they would be snoozing like babies until the middle of next week.  In a risky move, he rushed headlong into the remaining group of nine and hoped that what had worked so many times before in other fights would work again.  Experience paid off when the startled soldiers quickly ducked out of the way and made a path for him.  Qui-Gon used this to his advantage.  Simultaneously, he Force pushed three into each other and disarmed four.  The last two soldiers looked at the Jedi, then to each other and finally retreated in the opposite direction, looking for easier prey.

Releasing his anxieties he felt for his three charges into the Force, Qui-Gon sent reassurance along his bond with Obi-Wan, hoping he would pass it onto the other apprentices.

What he received in return did not encourage him.

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"Hey Garen?"

"Yeah Obi?"

"Any regrets?  Because we may not make it out of this one alive."

Garen grunted, blocking a shot that was only a few feet short of being at point-blank range and felt the jolt from it travel up the entire length of his arm.  Changing the foot that he led with and placing his right hand at the top of his saber hilt, he gave his main saber hand a rest.  The jolt along his left arm caused it to quiver slightly.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied finally, his casual tone making it sound like they were talking about the weather.  "I guess I regret never getting to kiss a girl."

"Any chance you regret not being able to kiss a certain girl?"

The younger Jedi blushed despite the circumstances, but didn't say anything, which made his comrade take it as a yes.

Obi-Wan paused before saying anything else to poke his head over the battered and scorched seat of the speeder bike, firing a round of laser bolts.  On the eleventh shot, nothing happened and he threw the blaster aside, its energy shell wasted and empty.  Twisting, he dropped onto his back with an audible THUMP!

"Yeah well, I think she'll regret it too if something happens to us."

Garen thrust upward with his weapon, deflecting two blasts and sending them back to where they had come from.  One soldier went down with a yell when he was hit by his own shot in the thigh.

"Do you really think so?" Garen asked as he twirled and disarmed one soldier who appeared on his right.

The older apprentice ignited his lightsaber and rolled onto his stomach so that he could see the soldiers advancing towards them.  Silently he hoped two saber blades would discourage them, but if anything it egged them on.  They wanted the privilege of saying they'd defeated a Jedi.

"She'd never tell you that," Obi-Wan grunted, stretching his arm out to deflect a blaster bolt and wondering why in the galaxy they were talking about such an odd topic during such an exhausting fight—which, he realized, they were slowly losing.  "She'd never tell you, just like you'd never tell her, but it's obvious."

Garen looked back at his friend briefly, a sheepish smile on his face, and nearly dropped his weapon in surprise.

"Obi-Wan, lookout!" he exclaimed, as a soldier ran up behind them, catching the two young men completely off guard.

Obi-Wan looked back just in time to kick the soldier in his solar plexus with his right foot.  With the wind knocked out of him, the soldier went down and Obi-Wan turned to thank his companion—only to see another soldier appear at Garen's back and pull the trigger of his blaster.

"No!" the young Jedi screamed as he watched his friend collapse to the ground with boneless movement.  He lay unmoving as a group of 20 or more soldiers closed in on them.

It just so happened that at that very moment, reassurance wafted along the training bond.  Obi-Wan could send nothing but distress in return as he was hauled roughly to his feet.