Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and stuck with this story so far – reasons for such erratic posting have been technical; my disk broke. :o( I do believe we're almost through, though. And, yes, the mush is soon. Patience, young grasshopper. :D
The Long Drift: Sedation
They had made it past the line of bushes, planted as a cheerful
reminder to all "kept servants" that they were approaching forbidden territory.
Forbidden without the presence of a master, supervisor, or
pass.
Obi-Wan was all too aware that neither he nor Roark
had any of them. Together they streaked across the lawn, staring hungrily at
the East End gates – the exit.
The exit! Never had such a thing meant so much. The exit to
this compound of humiliation, this place of misery. The
exit to the beatings and the demeaning, toilsome work that never ceased in coming.
Obi-Wan imagined that he could see the man on the other side, waiting to meet
them. He imagined he could see that wonderful device that would locate the
chips in their bodies "in no time at all." He even imagined he could see a
glint of moonlight reflecting off the knife that would slice open their soft
flesh and the pliers which would pluck the harmful chips from their bodies –
and was fiercely happy. He didn't even allow a moment's thought to dwell on the
fact that Spyre had refused to go with them – it was
suicide, she said.
"Almost there, Roark!" he gasped, noting how out of breath he was. He had not
run in a very long time. His muscles had begun to deteriorate since he had been
taken, and he had lost weight.
That certainly wouldn't last for much longer! His heart swelled as he thought
of training again with his master – how long had it been since he had seen Qui-Gon? Ah, it didn't matter. He'd be back
home soon! The other boy only nodded his response, also out of breath.
So close and no one had noticed they were gone. So close and within days
Obi-Wan would be back at the temple. Excitement at that thought urged him to
run faster. He simply could not stand
another day in this Force-forsaken place…
Light – blinding and white – suddenly knifed through the darkness and flooded
the grounds. Roark was so startled that he tripped and fell. Obi-Wan pivoted,
running back to help the fallen boy, and saw a crowd of armed supervisors
chasing after them.
"Roark! Get up!" He crashed to his knees beside the
boy, tugging insistently on the other's arm. "They're coming! We can still make
it!"
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Roark was saying, scrambling to his knees. "My
ankle hurts! Oh shit, oh shit –!" Obi-Wan helped him to his feet, but on the
first step Roark gave a sharp yelp and collapsed, pulling the young Jedi down
with him.
Obi-Wan threw a glance to the gate and with the new light really could see the man that would have saved
them – for the promise of a hefty reward once Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon. The Padawan blanched as he caught sight of the man
hastily climbing into a small brown speeder.
"No!" he shouted, despair edging his words, "We can make it!" His heart slammed
up against his ribs, blood roared in his ears. He jumped to his feet.
"Obi!" Roark cried, "Don't go!" He had a firm grip on
the Jedi's ankle, brown eyes wide with terror. "Please don't leave me!"
Obi-Wan saw the speeder glide away into the night and, hearing the shouts of
their pursuers, knew it was fruitless to continue the escape. One step outside
the compound and their chips would surely be activated.
"Obi, please," Roark moaned, eyes latched onto the angry group rapidly
approaching. "What do we do? What do we do now?
I can't go back."
Roark's eyes swiveled back to the sad face of the other boy. "I can't. Obi-Wan!"
When Obi-Wan responded he was very calm, very sober. No use in worrying. He
felt a sense of detachment gnawing at him and he opened himself to it. He knew
they would be punished severely – better to feel nothing.
"There's nothing we can do, Roark. Our help left," he said softly.
It had taken five weeks to set this up. Five weeks of secret transmissions,
sneaking about the grounds to acquire information, conducting short and frank
meetings behind the kitchen where the hum of the energy core would drown out
their words to any listeners. Five weeks of planning, mapping
out the route of their escape, prepping Roark. Five weeks for it to blow
up in their faces.
"I can't go back," Roark whispered and Obi-Wan was
struck with how he sounded so much like a lost, frightened child. "I can't do
it anymore. It's too much –" The rest of his words were choked off.
Obi-Wan looked down at his friend with compassion.
"I'm so sorry, Obi," Roark whispered, sincerely and achingly honest.
Obi-Wan managed a wan smile before shrugging his shoulders. He began to tell
Roark that they would simply run faster next time, try it without falling, when
he realized with a sick shiver that his friend was not finished.
The men were upon them now, and they hoisted the two slaves to their feet. Only
Obi-Wan saw Roark's slender fingers reach for the blaster holstered to one
man's side. A tug was all it took for the man to backhand the boy and unholster his weapon.
A cry of disbelief rang from Obi-Wan's lips as his
friend was shot dead. He jerked away but they easily wrestled him to the
ground, liberally punching and cuffing him. He was pressed onto his belly on
the rust colored dirt with one man's knee digging painfully into his lower
back. He thought it odd how much the color of the dirt resembled the pigment of
Roark's hair. How could he never have noticed? His hands were tied and a collar
was fitted too tightly around his neck.
Obi-Wan did not struggle or offer up any protest. He only stared into the blank
and glazed brown eyes of his friend. Roark had lived in desolation his entire
life, but accepted the light of hope – a hope which, Obi-Wan painfully
realized, he had provided – and paid for it.
* * * *
The sun was occupying the spot in the sky directly above him. What was that
called?
My zenith, Master Shen.
Zenith…
Obi-Wan's head lolled to the side and he stared
blankly up at the sky.
Don't look into the sun, Kenobi. You'll
burn those lovely eyes.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
You'll go blind. Do you want to go blind?
Don't look!
Obi-Wan jerked and let his head fall limply forward, chin bouncing against his
broken collarbone. He stared at the dirt, the red and blue spots that danced
about on its red-brown surface. He closed his eyes and they were still there.
When he opened them again he saw that the sun had moved a good distance across
the sky. Obi-Wan remembered not to stare.
"Almost dark," he muttered to no one.
Everything's an almost
with you.
"Almost wasn't a Jedi," he agreed out loud, dimly wondering where the
scratchiness in his voice had come from.
You might not be one anymore. You might
not…
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Almost!" He frowned. "Always
– I meant to say…"
Slaves can't be Jedi. How many masters do
you expect to have?
One. Always one. Almost…
Three. One for the body, two for the soul, three
to get head, and –
Head?
Put that mouth to use!
"Augh…" Obi-Wan twisted in the ropes that held him
upright.
Obi-Wan, you're not alone.
I miss Qui-Gon!
Obi-Wan, please!
"My skin…"
Obi! Don't go! Please don't leave me…
"It's on fire!"
I don't want another Padawan.
"I'm on fire! Help…! Oh, help me!" Tears of terror and confusion streamed down
the dry and sun burnt skin of his face. His head swam and his vision darkened.
Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes again. His body shook uncontrollably. It was
dark. Fear nipped at the edges of his awareness. What was wrong with him? He
could not stop the violent shaking.
A chilly draft bit into his warm skin, cruel and icy in its touch.
Cold.
What?
You're cold! Little
fool.
Obi-Wan bit back a sob. The nights here were so icy, such a drastic change from
the grueling heat of the day. His back was stiff and aching against the wooden
wall they had tied him to; he was sure splinters were embedding themselves
deeply into his already raw flesh.
A weak groan sounded from his belly, begging nourishment.
Without water a human can last… Initiate
Kenobi?
Five standard days!
No!
Obi-Wan faltered, thought he heard someone snicker. His brow furrowed. "…four?"
You don't work hard enough.
I do my best!
You're not good enough.
Obi-Wan returned to a troubled unconsciousness.