Chapter Nine

Qui-Gon awoke slowly feeling as though he'd been dragged behind a speeder through the Vogart wastes. Dimly he wondered where in the galaxy he was. Wherever he was it was it was extremely cold, he thought. His eyes fluttered open.

As he begin to be more aware of his surroundings, he discovered his arms were stretched and chained into manacles set into the wall that offered him little freedom of movement. His legs were cold as they contacted the floor. Pulling himself to his feet, he sighed. Things just kept getting better and better for him. His feet were cold as they contacted the floor. He glanced at the room and noticed there was a drain in the center of the room and his stomach twisted slightly, knowing what it was probably for. He sighed. The air came again, making him shiver.

Wondering why he was so cold, he glanced down. With some surprise he'd discovered that he'd been totally stripped while he was out cold. While Jedi were taught to be comfortable with their bodies and nudity, he was concerned that he would be more vulnerable without his clothing.

He sighed again. He wondered vaguely what Gaikusan planned to do with him although it was obvious that whatever it was, it wouldn't be pleasant. He wished not for the first time that Kyran hadn't refused the council's orders. It would've been nice to have had some backup.

More than an hour later, the door opened. Four of the C'lasi Guards strode inside, blasters holstered, but with heavy nightsticks in their hands. They took their place on either side of the door as Gaikusan entered. "So you have awoken at last, my friend."

"If this is a way you treat a friend, I am glad we're not enemies." he remarked casually.

"If you had been more willing to listen, such extreme measures would not be necessary. I do not want us to be enemies, rather it is my hope that we will become allies. I am very powerful, but I hope to become even more so. It would benefit us both if you would work with me. Leave the Jedi. Allow yourself to reach your full potential."

"I am sorry our views do not agree, Gaikusan. I will not abandon the Jedi and my oaths."


"I understand. This is very sudden. You need time to reflect on your options, what it will mean if you join me and what it will mean if you do not." At Gaikusan's nod, the guards came forward, their nightsticks raised.

Qui-Gon twisted his arms to see how much freedom of movement he had as four of the large guards rapidly bore down on him, nightsticks raised. He shifted his weight to balance, as he discovered that Gaikusan had left his feet unbound. The first guard raised his weapon and he grunted in surprise as the tiny human lashed out, kicking him sharply in the knee. He grabbed the human's leg before he could pull away and smacked him hard with the club at his ankle...
The second guard swung downward, his nightstick slamming into Qui-Gon's side. Moving around the others in order to get to Qui-Gon, the third and fourth guards pounded into him, hitting his back and upper arm.

Qui-Gon twisted struggling to get his foot out of the guard's grip, but he was caught fast, The C'lasi guard dug his claws into Qui-Gon's ankle making him wince. He gasped in pain one of the guards behind him smacked his back hard with his club and he lurched forward slightly off balance, but the guard holding his foot prevented him from falling, twisting his ankle. He gritted his teeth.

Qui-Gon swore as one of the guards dug his claws in his back and twisted. Force it was getting difficult to concentrate. He twisted, still trying to yank his foot out of the other's grip, earning himself more pain as the joint was further strained. The third guard jerked Qui-Gon's other leg out from under him and now he was supported in mid air by their brute strength. He panted for breath as he fought. Having his legs suspended in mid air was putting severe strain on his wrists. He cried out as bone crunched beneath the blow to his left forearm, delivered by the guard who had dug claws in his back.

Qui-Gon panted, dizzily trying to keep his hold on consciousness. The blow to his arm had shattered the bone in his left wrist and it was throbbing fiercely as he was being supported in mid-air. Without warning he felt himself being dropped back to the ground and he cried out as his injured ankle hit the ground with tremendous force. He gasped for breath as they continued to beat him, sides, legs and his face. Bone crunched as he was smacked hard in the nose, causing it to stream blood. Large dark bruises were forming from all the times they'd hit him.

"Stop," commanded Gaikusan. Instantly, the guards fell back to their places by the door, nightsticks now damp with Qui-Gon's blood. Gaikusan moved forward, grabbing Qui-Gon by the hair, forcing his head up.

"Options, my friend. You have only two before you. Join me or rot in Tuvlat Maximum Security Prison. So that you will understand fully what each option entails, I have arranged for you to spend some time in Tuvlat."

"How long do you think it will be before the Council realizes I'm missing and send more Jedi after you?" Qui-Gon panted, wincing slightly as Gaikusan forced his throbbing head up.

"The Council has been informed of Knight Jinn's exact whereabouts. Sadly, he was ambushed by an assassin and killed. The Prime Minister of C'lasi himself offered his condolences to the Council. As for you, you are the assassin, Avril Duursema. Sent to Tuvlat for the murder of Jinn and the attempted assassination of myself and the Prime Minister." Gaikusan hissed with laughter.

"If you think the Council will believe your lies, you're sadly mistaken." He panted trying to control his dizziness from his head being smacked and held in an awkward position.

"Of course they will believe, since the Prime Minister believes. They will sense he is telling the truth. Or at least what he believes to be the truth. You are dead to the Jedi, Qui-Gon. But for you there really will be no death, you will live on in Tuvlat or as my ally."

Qui-Gon's mouth went dry. He knew that the Council could detect a lie but if the person who was speaking thought they were speaking the truth.... he forced those thoughts away. "I will never be your ally."
"We will see. Guards, process him."

****

Qui-Gon was uncertain how long he hung there under the watchful eye of the guards. Every inch of his body seemed to throb in pain, especially his twisted ankle and broken wrist. He could draw slightly on the Force to dampen the pain and begin healing the worst of it.

The guards snapped to attention as another C'lasi entered the room. He was average height, which put him at about two and a half meters, his reddish hair had streaks of lighter, faded red indicating his was past
"Avril Duursema, I am the Warden of Tuvlat Maximum Security Prison. The Deputy Minister has asked me to personally oversee your case to insure that your experience within these walls meets the justly deserved punishment of an assassin wanted in over twelve systems."

"I'm afraid Minister Gaikusan was mistaken in my identity. If you would contact the Jedi Temple on Coruscant they will be happy to prove my case for me." Qui-Gon said.

A vicious backhand cut him off halfway through his sentence. "You will only speak when given permission and you will address me as Warden. Do you understand?"
Qui-Gon grunted in pain as he was backhanded, pain flaring in his broken nose. "Yes."

This time the Warden used the palm of his hand, claws leaving shallow cuts across Qui-Gon's cheek.
"Do you understand?"

"Yes Warden." He gritted his teeth as the words were forced from his lips.

"The faster you learn, the better. You have your entire life before you, how long that life is depends greatly on how quickly you can learn. Once you have been cleaned and appropriately dressed, you will be taken to your cell. If you manage to survive the night, the guards will explain the rules to you in the morning." Turning to the guards, he said, "You may begin."

The guards unchained Qui-Gon, dragging him forward to the middle of the room. He was forced to his knees, two of the guards twisting his arms behind his back, then each placing a heavy, clawed foot on his lower leg to further immobilize him. The guard in front of him produced a pair of scissors.

"You look ridiculous with that long fur on your head and bald almost everywhere else. Got to even it up a bit," hacking off chunks of Qui-Gon's long hair.

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth as he was being held down and his hair roughly being cut. He'd had enough and since he'd finally had a chance to regain himself after the guards had stopped beating him, he gathered the Force to him as much as he could and with a powerful Force burst, pushed the man away from him who was cutting his hair.

The guard flew backwards and landed hard on the floor. The two holding Qui-Gon tightened their grip on his arms, pushing him face down. Fists pounded into his sides, driving the breath from his lungs. Eventually, he was hauled back to his knees.
"The Deputy Minister warned us that you had some telekinetic ability. Use it again and you will be severely punished."

The guard he had pushed across the room approached again. Grabbing Qui-Gon by the beard, he pulled hard. "Do that again, slimo and I'll put out your eye." He began to hack again at Qui-Gon's hair, hanks falling around him. Occasionally the scissors got to close to his scalp, and blood began to flow down the sides of his head. Once his hair had been chopped, the guard then began cutting his beard, ignoring the fact that he'd cut his prisoner across both cheeks getting too close to his skin.

"That is adequate," the Warden said. "Now clean him off, dress him and take him to his cell."


Qui-Gon winced slightly as the scissors cut into him, causing blood to flow from his head. This mission was a failure. Kyran was right. He couldn't be trusted to even finish the mission properly by himself. His musings were interrupted when a powerful blast of water shoved him backwards hard, knocking the breath from his lungs as he fell against the wall. Another powerful burst of water slammed into after the first and then another, leaving him completely drenched and shivering in the freezing air of the prison.

Once the guards judged him sufficiently clean, the flow of water stopped. Before he'd cleared his eyes, he was hit by a lightweight. "Put 'em on, human."

Qui-Gon sat up slowly wondering what they were talking about. A pair of small white shorts lay on top of him. He carefully pulled them on, wincing at the pain in his broken wrist as he tried to move it enough to get them on. It wasn't much as far as prison suits went, being only a thin piece of material and not even offering him any comfort from the cold chill but at least it was enough to cover himself and that was better than nothing.

"Up. Hands on your head," ordered a guard. Qui-Gon found himself between two guards, walking into the main barracks. From cells on either side of the walkway came catcalls and insults. They stopped in front of a cell, one guard opening the door, while the other shoved Qui-Gon inside. "Don't kill him, tonight," the guard called out.

"Just not killing him? Nothing else?" one of Qui-Gon's new cell mates asked.

"No killing," repeated the guard as he closed and locked the door.