Chapter Two
Obi-Wan woke up, shivering. The man was standing near him, gazing at him. He had been a prisoner for maybe a day and the man near him had said hardly anything to him. "Who...you?" Obi-Wan slurred through chattering teeth. His wrists burned. "What...want?" The man simply smiled at him, then left the room. Obi-Wan whimpered, "Master?"
Qui-Gon sighed and turned his head to look at Obi-Wan who was finally awake. "Padawan." He twisted, trying to move, and winced a little as the bindings on his wrists cut into him.
"Master, who is he?" Obi-Wan asked, closing his sore eyes from the glare. The burns on his body were throbbing bubbles of pain that begged for his attention. More than that was his desire to know what was going on.
"I honestly have no idea Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, gritting his teeth. "He's told me nothing since I was originally taken captive. All I know is that he seems to have a fondness for playing with fire." He winced as he felt the pain from a bad burn on his right leg.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Do you think the research team got away safely, or are they going to search for us?" He felt a stab of guilt that he had disobeyed his master's orders in order to come find him, but he fervently hoped that the research team had followed his to leave.
"I wouldn't know," Qui-Gon said a trifle testily, still upset that Obi-Wan had disobeyed orders. "If they leave without us, then we have no way off this planet."
Obi-Wan couldn't stand to see his master so upset with him, so finally he decided to tell him why he had disobeyed. "Master, I saw..." he hesitated. Most Jedi did not see visions of the future, not on a regular basis, and this had been Obi-Wan's first clear vision. He hoped his master would believe him.
"Visions are not set in stone, Obi-Wan. Remember the future is always in motion. You cannot allow visions to sway your judgment," Qui-Gon said, reading the direction of his thoughts.
"But I saw..." Obi-Wan stopped, as his exhaustion from his illness and imprisonment set in. It was evident that his master wouldn't even listen to what he had to say, so he would conserve his strength by not speaking. In shame and hurt, he turned his face away from his master.
Qui-Gon sighed. He hadn't meant to be so harsh, but following blind visions was a dangerous thing and Obi-wan needed to learn that. "What did you see?"
Obi-Wan did not want to say now, but knew that he could not keep the information from his master. In a quiet whisper, he said, "Your death, here, by the hands of that man. After the vision, I felt the Force pulling me to come here, across the frozen wastes, to find you. It was so insistent that I could not refuse it."
Qui-Gon was silent for awhile. After several minutes he finally spoke again. "There is no death, there is the Force. My Obi-Wan, all Jedi pass into it at some point or another. I will be no different."
Obi-Wan felt hot tears sting his cheeks as he continued to keep his face away. In a suffocated voice, he murmured, "But I feel I cannot lose you, Master. I would be so lost without your guidance."
"No. Obi-Wan, I need you're attention. Look at me please." Qui-Gon waited until Obi-Wan turned to face him. "I will always be there to guide you. Just perhaps in a different way."
The thought of losing the only father figure he had, coupled with the images from his vision, caused Obi-Wan to break down crying. Right then, the man walked in, taking in Obi-Wan in a glance.
"Not often one of my prisoners breaks down crying before I do much to them," he remarked in a cool tone. "So instead of feeling proud, I suppose I must thank you, Jinn, for this honor."
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and the man. "Don't you have better things to do than torment your prisoners? Surely a terrorist like yourself has something else important to do."
The man showed just a flicker of annoyance cross his face before it smoothed again. "On any other world, then you would be correct, Jinn. But here on this ice bucket there is not much for us lowly terrorists to do than torture our prisoners mercilessly until they die. Now, since you refused to answer me earlier, I will ask again." He stood near Obi-Wan, a hot poker lit and glowing red in his hands. "Tell me what I want to know and spare your padawan. Why are you here on Hoth? Did you finally discover where we were hiding, or is it for some other purpose?"
Obi-Wan eyed the hot poker nervously, but sent to his master, Don't tell him anything. He's just fishing to see what we're doing here.
Qui-Gon clenched his hands into fists and his lips tightened into thin lines. He wouldn't say anything, though the thought of him hurting Obi- Wan who was already sick and injured made his stomach churn. "What business is it of yours? Perhaps I decided to take a vacation."
The man casually let his hand dip down to touch the hot poker to Obi- Wan's already burned chest. Obi-Wan couldn't help himself and let out a howl as his flesh puckered and began to puss. The terrorist shook his head. "Come now, Jinn," he said over the sound of Obi-Wan's cry. "No one in his right mind would come to Hoth for a vacation. What are you really here for?"
"Who said I was ever in my right mind?" Qui-Gon said, giving a small grin. "You just assumed I was."
That seemed to catch the terrorist off-guard and he took the poker off of Obi-Wan's tender flesh. "You are Jedi—there are no insane Jedi," the man finally said, sounding slightly unsure. He picked up a small fruit that was sitting on a table near Obi-Wan and split it in half. "This, if you do not know, is a fruit from Tangoria that is rather sour in flavor, and hurts like nothing you've ever known when the juice is squeezed into open cuts and wounds. I will put this juice on your padawan if you do not answer. It's such a little answer, Jinn. Why are you here?"
"Picking on innocents? Is that all terrorists seem to know? Don't you have any other methods other than hurting the ones that are already so sick and fuzzy that they barely know what's going on?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to distract him from Obi-Wan.
The man squeezed the yellow fruit. As soon as the liquid hit Obi- Wan's burns, his eyes popped open and he screamed with pain. "Now, a secret all we terrorists know, is that if you hurt the young ones, then the older ones are more bound to walk in line. You seem to enjoy watching your padawan suffer." He stood and fetched a curved, metal hook. "This is hurt tremendously," he said as Obi-Wan shivered in pain. "Just answer the question, Jinn, and I leave your precious padawan alone. On my honor as a scoundrel." His hand poised above Obi-Wan's puffy flesh on his chest.
Qui-Gon growled out. "You have no honor. How honorable is it to torture those who can't even answer you?"
The man sighed, lowering the hook closer to Obi-Wan. "You aren't playing by the rules, Jinn." He glanced down at the semi-conscious Obi-Wan. In a tone of conspiracy among friends, he said, "It would seem your master doesn't really care about you. How does that make you feel?"
Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon Force-pushed the man away from Obi-Wan. "Don't touch him."
The man didn't seem the slightest concerned over Qui-Gon pushing him out of the way. In a hardened tone, he said, "Answer the question and I will leave him be."
In hard tone of voice Qui-Gon directed, "I have no need to torture you. I will go back to my office and read."
The man shook his head sadly. "Reading is so overrated. Besides, that little trick just cost you dearly, Jinn." He took the hook and stuck it roughly into Obi-Wan's chest. Obi-Wan bit back a cry as the hook pulled upward on his tender flesh. "I will take this and do many unpleasant things with it if you do not answer. This is the last time that I am nice, to either of you. Jinn, answer the question! Why are you here?"
Qui-Gon gritted his teeth. He knew Obi-Wan didn't need more injuries since he was so sick from being out in the cold. He would never heal that way. Irritably he said, "Because some crazy senator decided we should."
The terrorist retracted the hook slightly, but still left it inside a pocket of Obi-Wan's flesh. He raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Why did a senator suddenly take interest in Hoth? Did they discover us hiding out here?"
"Perhaps they like playing in the snow," Qui-Gon retorted. "I have no idea; why don't you ask them?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "You're lying." His hand shifted in order to get a better grip on the hook.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "I think you're just paranoid. They didn't find you. Do you know how hard it is to find anything on Hoth? You can't even go outside without being knocked down by the wind so tracking equipment would be rendered useless."
The man nodded, seeing the truth to his words, and took the hook out of Obi-Wan's skin. Obi-Wan immediately slipped into unconsciousness as the pain diminished. The man walked over to Qui-Gon, the hook with Obi-Wan's blood on it still in his hands. Very slowly, he inquired, "So why are you here, if not for us? Rational senators do not send Jedi to a frozen planet on a lark."
"Who says the senate is rational?" Qui-Gon responded. "With all of that bureaucracy, how can they be? It would be enough to drive even the most controlled of Jedi insane if they were around that constantly."
To both of their surprise, the man started laughing. "Yes, at least Coruscant is still the same. We have been here, hiding out, for quite a while..." He refocused on his conscious prisoner. "So, now what do I do with you? I was so certain that you were here to spy us out, but now it seems as if it were all a big misunderstanding. Good for us, bad for you." He thought a moment, tapping the hook lightly against Qui-Gon's arms.
"Now wait just a minute! If this was just a big misunderstanding, can't it be fixed? That's what rational people do after all," Qui-Gon said, squirming slightly as he felt the hook against his arm.
The man shook his head. "Oh, but you Jedi are so idealistic! No, because should I let you go, you will be obliged to tell about us, and we have no desire to move since we have finally gotten things to work here like they should. So now I must decide what to do with you."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Well it was worth the effort at least. You should at least give my padawan a few comforts since it's apparent that he's coming down with a nasty case of the flu and I highly doubt that you want to catch it."
The man glanced back briefly at the unconscious padawan whose hair hung with sweat. "Hm, his comforts will come at a price, Jinn, and I don't mean credits. We have no use for credits here." His intense green eyes made clear to Qui-Gon the price he would ask for.
Qui-Gon sighed a little. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't agree with his choice but he would do what he could to protect the boy and see that he survived. "Very well."
The man seemed surprised. "You would risk your own health for the boy?"
"He is like a son to me. My life matters little in the grand scheme of things. However he is young and has his whole life to live."
The man nodded and, for a moment, seemed to soften. "I have a son; I know the feeling." He hardened again. "Though it will help you little." Without another word, he stabbed the hook into Qui-Gon's right leg and immediately sought for the bone with the hooked instrument.
Despite his resolve not to scream, he couldn't prevent it from escaping as the white hot pain shot through his leg. Merciful Force—the pain of the hook burned through him as he felt it digging deeper, looking for bone.
The man smiled when he felt the soft vibration through the hook that told him he had found what he sought. He used the hook to place increasing pressure on the bone in the leg of his prisoner, though he did not put so much as to break it yet.
Qui-Gon dizzily tried to reach for the Force to try to dampen down the pain, keeping a tight hold on his mental shields so as not to wake his unconscious padawan. The fact that Obi-Wan was still out showed just how much suffering he'd already endured. Qui-Gon bit down hard, trying to prevent any more sounds from escaping.
The man frowned. His other prisoners usually were screaming so loudly that the sound echoed throughout the room. He either wasn't doing this right, or this Jedi was made of sterner stuff than he looked. The man sighed, then put all of his weight down on the hook, snapping the leg bone like it were a twig.
Qui-Gon yelled out in pain as his leg snapped in two. Force, but his leg throbbed with pain! He squirmed on the table, trying to escape the hook as self-preservation took over. "Stop," he panted. "I authorized this for only after you gave my padawan comforts. You're not upholding your end of the deal by keeping him chained down like that."
The man removed the hook from Qui-Gon's leg and gave a small bow. "You are correct. He will be placed in a comfortable room, though locked, until his flu passes. Once that happens, he will be returned here." He turned around...and saw two blue eyes cloudy with pain gazing at him. Qui- Gon's mental cry more than his physical one had finally woken the padawan from his deep slumber.
Master, what is going on? Comforts? A room?He questioned as the man unhooked his wrists, then his feet, and Obi-Wan slammed into the ground as his body was released.
Don't question it, my Obi-Wan. Just enjoy it while it's available. Is that understood?He knew the boy would not like the bargain he'd made, but it was the sacrifice he'd had to make to spare his padawan's life.
Obi-Wan allowed himself to be carried by two other men that had suddenly appeared. One took his weight on one shoulder, while the other took his weight on the other shoulder. He tried to get past his master's shields but could not. Master, where are they taking me?He felt fear as he was carried out of the room that housed his master.
You're being housed separately. Do not be afraid. Just try to get well from this flu for me, padawan.He sent calming, healing waves to the boy.
Obi-Wan kept his half-closed eyes on where he has being taken. This presented an opportunity. If he could remember how to get back to his master, he could try to escape and save him... His thought broke off as his body shivered. After his flu, that was.
Qui-Gon sighed with relief as Obi-wan was taken away from him. At least his padawan was being taken care of. He shivered suddenly as the sweat pouring off him chilled him. He tried to move his right leg but it was useless. It had completely snapped.
The man gazed at him thoughtfully, though did not say anything.
Qui-Gon twisted, squirming on the table as his tunic soaked with sweat stuck to his back. He kept a tight hold on his mental shields, trying hard not to let any of his pain leak to Obi-Wan. His padawan had enough trouble already being sick with the flu. "You know, if you're planning on torturing me to death, the least courtesy you could give me would be to tell me your name and where I am."
The man gave him a slight nod, hiding a smile. "I am called simply Dwine. You are on Hoth." Now he let his smile show.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "I knew the name of the planet—thanks for that woefully inadequate information."
Dwine chuckled. "You are in the living quarters of the Cavrilhu pirates."
Qui-Gon arched a brow. "Pirates? Oh, well, thank you for the information. Now if you'd please let me up so I can update my will to make sure my padawan receives all of my personal property..." He trailed off, wondering if it would work.
Dwine shook his head. "Sorry, Jinn. You'll just have to hope your little Jedi bond is strong enough that he hears you...plus, although he is being taken care of as I said he would, he will not leave here alive either. I simply do not want my children to get sick from him before he goes."
Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, irritated at that. He twisted and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his leg and he yelped. "Fine," he said sourly.
Dwine put the hook down and examined another instrument, this one round. "Care to guess what this does?"
"Not particularly," Qui-Gon said through clenched teeth.
"Too bad. My son invented this...not for the purpose for which I use it, but it works quite well," Dwine said calmly. "Not many have survived the technique, though none have been Jedi. I wonder..." He trailed off and glanced at Qui-Gon, a cruel smile on his lips. "I'll save this for after lunch. I'm slightly hungry." So saying, he swept out the door.
Qui-Gon eyed the instrument the man had put down. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what it did. He forced down his fear with an effort. Better that he endured the torture rather than his sick, injured apprentice, he reminded himself.
Obi-Wan woke up, shivering. The man was standing near him, gazing at him. He had been a prisoner for maybe a day and the man near him had said hardly anything to him. "Who...you?" Obi-Wan slurred through chattering teeth. His wrists burned. "What...want?" The man simply smiled at him, then left the room. Obi-Wan whimpered, "Master?"
Qui-Gon sighed and turned his head to look at Obi-Wan who was finally awake. "Padawan." He twisted, trying to move, and winced a little as the bindings on his wrists cut into him.
"Master, who is he?" Obi-Wan asked, closing his sore eyes from the glare. The burns on his body were throbbing bubbles of pain that begged for his attention. More than that was his desire to know what was going on.
"I honestly have no idea Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, gritting his teeth. "He's told me nothing since I was originally taken captive. All I know is that he seems to have a fondness for playing with fire." He winced as he felt the pain from a bad burn on his right leg.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Do you think the research team got away safely, or are they going to search for us?" He felt a stab of guilt that he had disobeyed his master's orders in order to come find him, but he fervently hoped that the research team had followed his to leave.
"I wouldn't know," Qui-Gon said a trifle testily, still upset that Obi-Wan had disobeyed orders. "If they leave without us, then we have no way off this planet."
Obi-Wan couldn't stand to see his master so upset with him, so finally he decided to tell him why he had disobeyed. "Master, I saw..." he hesitated. Most Jedi did not see visions of the future, not on a regular basis, and this had been Obi-Wan's first clear vision. He hoped his master would believe him.
"Visions are not set in stone, Obi-Wan. Remember the future is always in motion. You cannot allow visions to sway your judgment," Qui-Gon said, reading the direction of his thoughts.
"But I saw..." Obi-Wan stopped, as his exhaustion from his illness and imprisonment set in. It was evident that his master wouldn't even listen to what he had to say, so he would conserve his strength by not speaking. In shame and hurt, he turned his face away from his master.
Qui-Gon sighed. He hadn't meant to be so harsh, but following blind visions was a dangerous thing and Obi-wan needed to learn that. "What did you see?"
Obi-Wan did not want to say now, but knew that he could not keep the information from his master. In a quiet whisper, he said, "Your death, here, by the hands of that man. After the vision, I felt the Force pulling me to come here, across the frozen wastes, to find you. It was so insistent that I could not refuse it."
Qui-Gon was silent for awhile. After several minutes he finally spoke again. "There is no death, there is the Force. My Obi-Wan, all Jedi pass into it at some point or another. I will be no different."
Obi-Wan felt hot tears sting his cheeks as he continued to keep his face away. In a suffocated voice, he murmured, "But I feel I cannot lose you, Master. I would be so lost without your guidance."
"No. Obi-Wan, I need you're attention. Look at me please." Qui-Gon waited until Obi-Wan turned to face him. "I will always be there to guide you. Just perhaps in a different way."
The thought of losing the only father figure he had, coupled with the images from his vision, caused Obi-Wan to break down crying. Right then, the man walked in, taking in Obi-Wan in a glance.
"Not often one of my prisoners breaks down crying before I do much to them," he remarked in a cool tone. "So instead of feeling proud, I suppose I must thank you, Jinn, for this honor."
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and the man. "Don't you have better things to do than torment your prisoners? Surely a terrorist like yourself has something else important to do."
The man showed just a flicker of annoyance cross his face before it smoothed again. "On any other world, then you would be correct, Jinn. But here on this ice bucket there is not much for us lowly terrorists to do than torture our prisoners mercilessly until they die. Now, since you refused to answer me earlier, I will ask again." He stood near Obi-Wan, a hot poker lit and glowing red in his hands. "Tell me what I want to know and spare your padawan. Why are you here on Hoth? Did you finally discover where we were hiding, or is it for some other purpose?"
Obi-Wan eyed the hot poker nervously, but sent to his master, Don't tell him anything. He's just fishing to see what we're doing here.
Qui-Gon clenched his hands into fists and his lips tightened into thin lines. He wouldn't say anything, though the thought of him hurting Obi- Wan who was already sick and injured made his stomach churn. "What business is it of yours? Perhaps I decided to take a vacation."
The man casually let his hand dip down to touch the hot poker to Obi- Wan's already burned chest. Obi-Wan couldn't help himself and let out a howl as his flesh puckered and began to puss. The terrorist shook his head. "Come now, Jinn," he said over the sound of Obi-Wan's cry. "No one in his right mind would come to Hoth for a vacation. What are you really here for?"
"Who said I was ever in my right mind?" Qui-Gon said, giving a small grin. "You just assumed I was."
That seemed to catch the terrorist off-guard and he took the poker off of Obi-Wan's tender flesh. "You are Jedi—there are no insane Jedi," the man finally said, sounding slightly unsure. He picked up a small fruit that was sitting on a table near Obi-Wan and split it in half. "This, if you do not know, is a fruit from Tangoria that is rather sour in flavor, and hurts like nothing you've ever known when the juice is squeezed into open cuts and wounds. I will put this juice on your padawan if you do not answer. It's such a little answer, Jinn. Why are you here?"
"Picking on innocents? Is that all terrorists seem to know? Don't you have any other methods other than hurting the ones that are already so sick and fuzzy that they barely know what's going on?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to distract him from Obi-Wan.
The man squeezed the yellow fruit. As soon as the liquid hit Obi- Wan's burns, his eyes popped open and he screamed with pain. "Now, a secret all we terrorists know, is that if you hurt the young ones, then the older ones are more bound to walk in line. You seem to enjoy watching your padawan suffer." He stood and fetched a curved, metal hook. "This is hurt tremendously," he said as Obi-Wan shivered in pain. "Just answer the question, Jinn, and I leave your precious padawan alone. On my honor as a scoundrel." His hand poised above Obi-Wan's puffy flesh on his chest.
Qui-Gon growled out. "You have no honor. How honorable is it to torture those who can't even answer you?"
The man sighed, lowering the hook closer to Obi-Wan. "You aren't playing by the rules, Jinn." He glanced down at the semi-conscious Obi-Wan. In a tone of conspiracy among friends, he said, "It would seem your master doesn't really care about you. How does that make you feel?"
Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon Force-pushed the man away from Obi-Wan. "Don't touch him."
The man didn't seem the slightest concerned over Qui-Gon pushing him out of the way. In a hardened tone, he said, "Answer the question and I will leave him be."
In hard tone of voice Qui-Gon directed, "I have no need to torture you. I will go back to my office and read."
The man shook his head sadly. "Reading is so overrated. Besides, that little trick just cost you dearly, Jinn." He took the hook and stuck it roughly into Obi-Wan's chest. Obi-Wan bit back a cry as the hook pulled upward on his tender flesh. "I will take this and do many unpleasant things with it if you do not answer. This is the last time that I am nice, to either of you. Jinn, answer the question! Why are you here?"
Qui-Gon gritted his teeth. He knew Obi-Wan didn't need more injuries since he was so sick from being out in the cold. He would never heal that way. Irritably he said, "Because some crazy senator decided we should."
The terrorist retracted the hook slightly, but still left it inside a pocket of Obi-Wan's flesh. He raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Why did a senator suddenly take interest in Hoth? Did they discover us hiding out here?"
"Perhaps they like playing in the snow," Qui-Gon retorted. "I have no idea; why don't you ask them?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "You're lying." His hand shifted in order to get a better grip on the hook.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "I think you're just paranoid. They didn't find you. Do you know how hard it is to find anything on Hoth? You can't even go outside without being knocked down by the wind so tracking equipment would be rendered useless."
The man nodded, seeing the truth to his words, and took the hook out of Obi-Wan's skin. Obi-Wan immediately slipped into unconsciousness as the pain diminished. The man walked over to Qui-Gon, the hook with Obi-Wan's blood on it still in his hands. Very slowly, he inquired, "So why are you here, if not for us? Rational senators do not send Jedi to a frozen planet on a lark."
"Who says the senate is rational?" Qui-Gon responded. "With all of that bureaucracy, how can they be? It would be enough to drive even the most controlled of Jedi insane if they were around that constantly."
To both of their surprise, the man started laughing. "Yes, at least Coruscant is still the same. We have been here, hiding out, for quite a while..." He refocused on his conscious prisoner. "So, now what do I do with you? I was so certain that you were here to spy us out, but now it seems as if it were all a big misunderstanding. Good for us, bad for you." He thought a moment, tapping the hook lightly against Qui-Gon's arms.
"Now wait just a minute! If this was just a big misunderstanding, can't it be fixed? That's what rational people do after all," Qui-Gon said, squirming slightly as he felt the hook against his arm.
The man shook his head. "Oh, but you Jedi are so idealistic! No, because should I let you go, you will be obliged to tell about us, and we have no desire to move since we have finally gotten things to work here like they should. So now I must decide what to do with you."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Well it was worth the effort at least. You should at least give my padawan a few comforts since it's apparent that he's coming down with a nasty case of the flu and I highly doubt that you want to catch it."
The man glanced back briefly at the unconscious padawan whose hair hung with sweat. "Hm, his comforts will come at a price, Jinn, and I don't mean credits. We have no use for credits here." His intense green eyes made clear to Qui-Gon the price he would ask for.
Qui-Gon sighed a little. He knew Obi-Wan wouldn't agree with his choice but he would do what he could to protect the boy and see that he survived. "Very well."
The man seemed surprised. "You would risk your own health for the boy?"
"He is like a son to me. My life matters little in the grand scheme of things. However he is young and has his whole life to live."
The man nodded and, for a moment, seemed to soften. "I have a son; I know the feeling." He hardened again. "Though it will help you little." Without another word, he stabbed the hook into Qui-Gon's right leg and immediately sought for the bone with the hooked instrument.
Despite his resolve not to scream, he couldn't prevent it from escaping as the white hot pain shot through his leg. Merciful Force—the pain of the hook burned through him as he felt it digging deeper, looking for bone.
The man smiled when he felt the soft vibration through the hook that told him he had found what he sought. He used the hook to place increasing pressure on the bone in the leg of his prisoner, though he did not put so much as to break it yet.
Qui-Gon dizzily tried to reach for the Force to try to dampen down the pain, keeping a tight hold on his mental shields so as not to wake his unconscious padawan. The fact that Obi-Wan was still out showed just how much suffering he'd already endured. Qui-Gon bit down hard, trying to prevent any more sounds from escaping.
The man frowned. His other prisoners usually were screaming so loudly that the sound echoed throughout the room. He either wasn't doing this right, or this Jedi was made of sterner stuff than he looked. The man sighed, then put all of his weight down on the hook, snapping the leg bone like it were a twig.
Qui-Gon yelled out in pain as his leg snapped in two. Force, but his leg throbbed with pain! He squirmed on the table, trying to escape the hook as self-preservation took over. "Stop," he panted. "I authorized this for only after you gave my padawan comforts. You're not upholding your end of the deal by keeping him chained down like that."
The man removed the hook from Qui-Gon's leg and gave a small bow. "You are correct. He will be placed in a comfortable room, though locked, until his flu passes. Once that happens, he will be returned here." He turned around...and saw two blue eyes cloudy with pain gazing at him. Qui- Gon's mental cry more than his physical one had finally woken the padawan from his deep slumber.
Master, what is going on? Comforts? A room?He questioned as the man unhooked his wrists, then his feet, and Obi-Wan slammed into the ground as his body was released.
Don't question it, my Obi-Wan. Just enjoy it while it's available. Is that understood?He knew the boy would not like the bargain he'd made, but it was the sacrifice he'd had to make to spare his padawan's life.
Obi-Wan allowed himself to be carried by two other men that had suddenly appeared. One took his weight on one shoulder, while the other took his weight on the other shoulder. He tried to get past his master's shields but could not. Master, where are they taking me?He felt fear as he was carried out of the room that housed his master.
You're being housed separately. Do not be afraid. Just try to get well from this flu for me, padawan.He sent calming, healing waves to the boy.
Obi-Wan kept his half-closed eyes on where he has being taken. This presented an opportunity. If he could remember how to get back to his master, he could try to escape and save him... His thought broke off as his body shivered. After his flu, that was.
Qui-Gon sighed with relief as Obi-wan was taken away from him. At least his padawan was being taken care of. He shivered suddenly as the sweat pouring off him chilled him. He tried to move his right leg but it was useless. It had completely snapped.
The man gazed at him thoughtfully, though did not say anything.
Qui-Gon twisted, squirming on the table as his tunic soaked with sweat stuck to his back. He kept a tight hold on his mental shields, trying hard not to let any of his pain leak to Obi-Wan. His padawan had enough trouble already being sick with the flu. "You know, if you're planning on torturing me to death, the least courtesy you could give me would be to tell me your name and where I am."
The man gave him a slight nod, hiding a smile. "I am called simply Dwine. You are on Hoth." Now he let his smile show.
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "I knew the name of the planet—thanks for that woefully inadequate information."
Dwine chuckled. "You are in the living quarters of the Cavrilhu pirates."
Qui-Gon arched a brow. "Pirates? Oh, well, thank you for the information. Now if you'd please let me up so I can update my will to make sure my padawan receives all of my personal property..." He trailed off, wondering if it would work.
Dwine shook his head. "Sorry, Jinn. You'll just have to hope your little Jedi bond is strong enough that he hears you...plus, although he is being taken care of as I said he would, he will not leave here alive either. I simply do not want my children to get sick from him before he goes."
Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, irritated at that. He twisted and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his leg and he yelped. "Fine," he said sourly.
Dwine put the hook down and examined another instrument, this one round. "Care to guess what this does?"
"Not particularly," Qui-Gon said through clenched teeth.
"Too bad. My son invented this...not for the purpose for which I use it, but it works quite well," Dwine said calmly. "Not many have survived the technique, though none have been Jedi. I wonder..." He trailed off and glanced at Qui-Gon, a cruel smile on his lips. "I'll save this for after lunch. I'm slightly hungry." So saying, he swept out the door.
Qui-Gon eyed the instrument the man had put down. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out what it did. He forced down his fear with an effort. Better that he endured the torture rather than his sick, injured apprentice, he reminded himself.