Chapter Four

Qui-Gon twisted in his chains, earning himself nothing but a pulled muscle and pain shooting through his broken leg. As soon as Dwine had left he tried to find another way out of his situation, but there didn't seem to be one—and now with his leg broken that would hinder his escape even more. He sighed, realizing that he would just have to endure until he either became one with the Force or help arrived.
Dwine sauntered back in, smelling of zesty dewback ribs. "How are we doing? Still 'hanging' in here?" His words were slightly slurred and the smell of alcohol was strong on his breath as he leaned over Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon's stomach rumbled at the smell of dewback sauce that lingered in the air. He'd had nothing to eat since the day he'd been taken hostage other than one stale ration bar the first day of his captivity. "Unfortunately," he replied, dryly.
Dwine grinned at him, a glint in his eye as he picked up the metal cylinder that he had shown him almost two hours earlier. "See this? Think you've figur....fig...got it thought out yet?"
"I haven't been trying to figure it out," Qui-Gon said as he rolled his eyes. He'd been trying not to think about it and to figure a way out of this hopeless looking situation, but it hadn't done him any good.
Dwine leaned against the table near him heavily. "Oh, it's pretty neat," he said, in a jovial mood from all the ale he had drank to bolster his spirits at lunch. "You see, I make a hole in your throat, then shove this down in it. Then I time you to see how long you can go without breathing. If I guess correctly, then I take it out in time for you to take a breath...if not, well, I'm pretty good at guessing."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened in shock and his head spun at the thought. Dimly he hoped the man failed so that at least he wouldn't have to endure as much suffering.
Dwine twirled the metal in his hands, letting it catch the lights and shine. "This will be fun," he chuckled, finally putting it down and reaching behind his back. After a moment he held out...a full bottle of ale. He grinned. "Even Jedi should drink every now and then," he said, chortling, as he walked closer to Qui-Gon.
Qui-Gon turned his head away. He was not going to make this easy for his captor. The man reeked of alcohol and he had no intention of drinking any of it.
Dwine's strong hand clamped around his throat and forced his head back around. The bottle was open now and right above his mouth. "Drink," Dwine ordered. "I'm being nice...this will help with the pain. Don't make me regret this." Qui-Gon's gaze narrowed and his dark blue eyes spoke volumes. Like the Sith he would drink that stuff. He would need a clear head if he was going to use the Force for a healing trance later.
Dwine used four of his fingers to pry Qui-Gon's mouth open, and then shoved the neck of the bottle into the Jedi's mouth, forcing the liquid into his mouth and down his throat. "Drink, or choke," he said cheerfully.
Qui-Gon choked and spewed some of it, trying to keep from having the bottle poured down his throat. Force, but it tasted horrible.
Dwine kept the bottle shoved in his mouth until the last bit was gone. Only then did he take it out. "I'll let that stew for a while," he chuckled as he walked back out, stumbling slightly.
Qui-Gon winced at the nasty taste in his mouth. Sith, but how did people truly enjoying drinking that stuff? He twisted and winced at the pain in his leg. Now where was Dwine going?

Obi-Wan felt cool hands on his forehead and water was forced down his throat. His parched tongue begged for more, but no more came. He was hot. So hot. Sweat poured from his body. He wanted his master, but he dimly remembered that his master was currently chained to a table and unable to do him much good. He hoped to the Force that his illness would go away so that he could somehow rescue his master. Uneasy, he drifted back into memories that took the form of dreams.

i
Qui-Gon sat at the far end of the makeshift table by himself, away from the other researchers. He didn't really feel like socializing much as he had nothing in common with them at all, so he decided he wouldn't get in the way. They were animatedly plotting their course of action for the duration of their stay on Hoth.
Suddenly, Sassi broke away from the group and walked over to him, swaying her hips provocatively. "Hey there, Jedi. Can I call you Qui-Gon?" Her eyes shone with merriment as she waited for his answer. Qui-Gon arched a brow. "I guess since that is my name."
Sassi playfully punched his arm. "So serious all the time!" She said, smiling. "Why don't you come over and join us? You must have traveled lots more than us so your input would be greatly appreciated." She ignored the glower she was getting from Greklen.
Qui-Gon frowned a little. "No, really, I don't want to get in the way. I've never traveled before on Hoth," he said with a slight smirk.
Sassi obviously wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, for she started tugging on his arm. "Aw, anything you know can be of help. Come join us."
Qui-Gon sighed and stood reluctantly. He got the feeling he wasn't really welcomed by Greklen so he was careful to sit a few places away from him.
Greklen shot him a dark look, but continued to talk over the map that they were looking at. "...this is where the ore on this side of the planet is rumored to be," he was saying, pointing to a region of ice caves. "Tomorrow we should concentrate on there first to get it out of the way...that is, unless the Jedi thinks otherwise." He did not look at Qui- Gon, though Sassi, Howik and Penne glanced at him hopefully.
Qui-Gon shrugged a little. "It sounds fine with me. I'm not a leader of this expedition. I'm merely here as protection at request of the Senate," he said as he stared at Greklen.
Greklen huffed but did not comment.
Penne licked his lips in a nervous gesture. "We...we can't...contact the other team on this planet, can we? To check on them?" The younger brother of Qua said. Concern for his sister shone in his eyes.
"Depends on the capabilities of the communication equipment we've brought along. I can check with my padawan and make sure everyone is alright."
Obi-Wan...Qui-Gon sent.
Immediately, Obi-Wan turned from his dinner. Master?
Is everything alright with your team?
Obi-Wan looked around at the team. Those who were finished eating were getting their packs together for the next day, checking and double- checking what they would need. Jebthia had located a kind of ice lake that they were going to take readings from in the morning. For now, Master. We are going to investigate a lake near here in the morning. How does your team fare?He knew that Qua might like to hear news about her brother.
We're fine. Just having the end of dinner and discussing plans for tomorrow's search. We're planning to try a few caves to get readings from that are relatively close by.
Obi-Wan nodded and smiled at Qua since she was staring at him quizzically. I'm not sure I like this, Master,he thought. The threat I felt before has grown in my mind.
Qui-Gon frowned slightly at that—ignoring the conversation going on around him. I know. I feel it too. I don't like this. Be mindful, Obi- Wan.
Obi-Wan gave his master the equivalent of a mental nod. I will be watchful, Master. Please, be careful.
Force be with you, my padawan.
Qui-Gon broke the connection. "The other team is fine. They're having no problems and they anticipate going to some frozen lakes to look for readings in the morning."
All four faces had been staring at him during the exchange.
"How...?" Penne squeaked out.
Qui-Gon smiled a little bit, the corners of his mustache turning up. "The Force enables me to mentally communicate with my apprentice."
Sassi's eyes shone with interest and Greklen huffed again. The burly man tapped the readout that they had been looking at, directing the crew's attention to him again. "We'll leave at 0700 hours tomorrow morning. I suggest we all get some sleep. The tents should be warm now."
Qui-Gon nodded a little and stood, grateful for the opportunity to escape. He headed for his shelter and sighed as he entered the small space. It was cozy since the heaters had sufficiently warmed the place while he'd been having dinner. He shrugged out of his cold weather gear and into his comfortable sleep pants. He crawled into his portable sleep couch that he'd brought with him, intending to read for a few minutes before he went to sleep.
A soft knock, then a slim shadow entered the tent. Sassi stood there, blinking snow from her eyelashes. "It must be lonely without your padawan near," she said softly, taking off her weather jacket. "I've heard that Jedi are hardly ever alone, always in the company of someone else, and that to be separated makes them lonely. Is this true?" Her tone was not of confrontation, but of soft curiosity as she turned to face him in a tank top, her light brown curls damp with snow.
Qui-Gon arched a brow and sat up a little. He hadn't been expecting company. His face flushed as he hunted for his tunic, to no avail. "No, not actually. I'm quite comfortable with solitude. Jedi are trained to be comfortable in a variety of different social settings."
Sassi knelt beside him, her face serious. "Like one like this?" She asked, then leaned over and kissed him passionately.
Qui-Gon was taken aback as she leaned over and kissed him. Force, were all women researchers like this? He backed away from her a few feet—uncertain now of what to do and he pondered Force-assisting her to sleep.
Sassi shook her head. "What's wrong? I thought that we had an attraction." She sounded distressed as she rocked back on her heels.
Qui-Gon didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth and no sound came out. His face flushed with embarrassment. He felt like a schoolboy. He couldn't help himself. She was rather attractive with snow still in her hair.
Sassi made a distressed sound and turned her back to him, draping slender arms around her knees. "I can see I made a mistake," she said in a suffocated voice.
"No, no." He put a hand on her back gently. "I just was startled. I have no idea what to say."
Sassi glanced up at him, tears unshed in her green eyes. "I didn't want to feel anything toward you. You're a Jedi...you're not supposed to love or get attached," she spat the word. "But I couldn't seem to help myself. Greklen....well, we've been apart for almost a year now and I wasn't looking for anyone. Then you came along..." She trailed off and shrugged, letting her hair fall across her face to hide her embarrassment. "I think I should just leave..."
"What makes you say that?" He said as he scooted up to sit next to her and tentatively reached out to put his arm around her, uncertain as to how she might respond to it.
Sassi's shoulders twitched slightly at his touch, but she did not pull away. "Well, you evidently don't feel the same way about me," she said in a low tone. "I think a person can only take so much embarrassment in one day, you know?"
Qui-Gon was silent for several long minutes. He had no idea what to say to that. He did have some feelings for her and trying to control his emotions was proving more difficult than usual whenever she was around. He smiled a little at that. "So certain are you?" he said, finally turning her face to him with his free hand as he bent to kiss her gently.
i

Dwine sauntered back into the chamber, even more unsteady than before. "How's it going, Jedi?" He laughed. He had left the Jedi alone for almost forty minutes.
"Mmm. Fine," Qui-Gon said, his words coming out slurred. "Don' feel so bad. How're you?" The entire bottle of ale he'd been forced to consume was affecting his speech and his ability to think straight. He'd been singing to himself for the past twenty minutes.
Dwine chuckled, slapping his knee. "Jus' fine. Who says Jedi don' have fun?" He stumbled over to a thin, sharp metal poker and picked it up. He turned to face Qui-Gon. "Any last words?" He grinned.
Qui-Gon started singing again, picking up where he'd left off when he was interrupted. What had the man just said? He couldn't remember. "Did say somethin?" he asked in a very slurred voice.
Dwine sighed and forced his vision to stop blurring by squinting his eyes. He leaned over the Jedi. "This might sting a little..." and he stabbed the sharp point of the metal rod into the middle of Qui-Gon's throat. He was careful to angle it so that it didn't stab all the way through, then he quickly pulled it out and stood to watch what the drunk Jedi would do.
Qui-Gon gurgled and his eyes widened at the sharp pain in his throat. His eyes had a pathetic "what was that for" look in them.
Dwine wasted no further time. He grabbed the round cylinder his son had crafted and stuck it down the Jedi's throat. His goal was to coat it in blood as much as possible, then take it out, have his wife sow the Jedi's throat back up, and have the blood to do what he needed with.
Qui-Gon twisted, trying to escape without any success. His throat burned and he choked, trying to draw a breath. His eyes grew wide as breathing became difficult. He couldn't focus on the Force to help him either. The ale he'd been forced to drink made it hard for him to concentrate...it kept slipping away from him.
Dwine rotated the cylinder in the Jedi's throat. Now perhaps he could take the blood, break it down, and discover the secret to the renowned powers that they had. True, a needle full of blood could achieve the same result, but since he was going to kill the Jedi anyway, he figured he'd indulge his cruel side a little. When he was done, he retracted the cylinder, and whistled his wife into the room. She bustled in, all business- like, and sat down to sew the Jedi's throat back together.
Qui-Gon stared, his eyes wide as the woman came in. He couldn't breathe. Darkness was encroaching on his vision. His last conscious thought was hoping that at least Obi-Wan would be able to recover enough to escape.

Obi-Wan tossed more on the bed, crying out in his fever. His throat hurt terribly and he didn't understand why. The pain was so incredible and he felt as if he couldn't breathe. A soft voice called to him to drink this, drink this, it was good for him, he was a good boy for obeying, wasn't that better, but Obi-Wan could barely focus on the voice and its command as his thoughts turned to his master. What was being done to his master? Crying, Obi-Wan sank into a dreamless sleep.