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Chap 6
It was dark when he woke the second time.
The first time had been a mass of chaos, the nerves in his body screaming in confusion and pain. He heard words, but they made no sense, he saw lights but they were blinding. Blessed oblivion descended shortly after the episode of light and raw feeling.
This time, the boy came too gradually. His body felt like it had been hit by a bantha, his muscles heavy and sore. He was laying on a cot or bed somewhere, probably the healers clinic. His arms, upon glancing down, were taped, with long thin tubes of bacta seeping slowly into his bloodstream. He inhaled shakily, drawing what had to be his first deep breath of air in some time for his chest felt heavy and stiff.
He winced, trying to remember –
"Hold him! Hold him!"
"Scanning-"
"Oh force, his bloodstream!"
"Lets give him 80 cc's of decuria-"
"No, his midichlorians are already severely agitated-"
"Lets whip down his face, clear the blood-"
"Call Master Yoda! We need his guidance! I've never seen readings like this,"
"Severe allergiac reaction…."
"… master…"
Darkness.
Force, he was sore…
Obi-Wan swallowed, his throat dry. Something had happened to him. Something odd. He vaguely remembered dueling, but not clearly. He remembered incredible power, and incredible pain. He groaned, bile rising into his throat. He winced, where was his master?
… Probably with… Kinah…
A single tear slid down Obi-Wans face. It fell unceremoniously to the pillow by his ear. He raised his hand, clenching his fist as the tubes of bacta slid from his veins, small droplets of blood dripping to the sheets.
0oooooooooooooooooooo0
"I demand to know who is responsible for this!"
Master Qui-Gon was furious, turning a full three hundred sixty degrees as he addressed the assembled Jedi masters. His tall form was surrounded in the great hall by an outlying ring of masters with the padawans silent behind them. Jinn's feet scuffed loudly on the marble floor as he paced, eyes dark.
"My padawan is not capable of such violence! You saw what happened to him, how he behaved. He was fine this morning, no signs of this-"
"But who would commit such a heinous crime? For what motive?" Tahl asked softly. Behind them, the padawans glanced towards Kinah and Bruck, eyes cold as steel. But no one spoke.
"Committed out of anger, this was," Yoda said, clacking as he hobbled to the center to Qui-Gon. "Strange it is, how young Obi-Wan is accused. Strange, this is not the first incident. Strange indeed." A murmur went up through the crowd
Windu shook his head. "A cotangent, specifically designed to the DNA of Kenobi was acquired for this. Who would have access?"
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. He turned,
"Kinah."
All eyes turned to the back of the room. All padawans moved away from the brother and sister.
Tahl stepped towards them, standing before her padawan protectively. "What are you talking about, Qui-Gon?"
"Last week. Kinah was in my quarters while Obi-Wan was at the gym. She asked if I could access the Jedi database for research purposes for one of her classes…"
Tahl frowned. "Kinah would never do such a thing." Behind the master, Kinah swallowed, cowering.
Qui-Gon advanced on Tahl, his eyes positively glowing. Yoda cleared his throat.
"Call up the access records we can, Master Jinn," Yoda said lowly, indicating for Windu to do so. The room was dead silent as the dark skinned master made his way to a nearby consol and began pecking at the terminal. A short time later, he reported-
"Last week, from the residency of Qui-Gon Jinn, restricted files were accessed. They contained... Padawan Kenobi's medical files." Windu paused, looking to Yoda. "His medical files contain his known allergens. One being Meticasis, a fungus used for force sensitive when they have bond damage. Obi-Wan is deathly allergic. Symptoms-"
"Are of the worst variety, for force users. Painful, the midiclorians become when agitated."
Yoda turned to face Kinah. He clacked past Qui-Gon to Tahl.
"Feelings of jealousy and anger, your padawan hides Jedi Master Tahl," Yoda said softly. He hobbled his way around the small master, facing the padawan. Kinah recoiled, her fists clinging to the back of her master's robes. "Why such anger, young one?" Tahl sputtered, moving in front of the girl.
"She had nothing to do with this!"
"How can you deny it, Tahl?" Qui-Gon asked, almost brokenly. "The records show-"
"That much has happened of recent that goes unnoticed, hhmmmm," Yoda said, gently moving Tahl aside with his cane. Kinah stood, face down. A green clawed hand to the chin of the girl revealed a tear soaked face. She shook her head.
"I came here, after Bruck. He- he said that he wanted Master Qui-Gon for his own, but no, Obi-Wan was better. Always better. He doesn't deserve Master Jinn! We do!" Murmurs sprang up through the crowd as Kinah turned away, anger in her posture. Tahl stepped back, mouth open.
"The Jedi way, such thinking is /not," Yoda stated, grimly shaking his head. Kinah growled, stepping forward.
"I am far ahead of these padawans! My family are T'Cloith! We are the most powerful force sensitives in our galaxy!"
"And the best at mental shielding in their galaxy," Windu commented, raising an eyebrow.
"I am the best of my age, my class! Do I not deserve the best Master?" She pleaded, large damp eyes glaring at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon sighed and dropped to a knee before the girl.
"I gave my time to you, child. I have spent hours upon hours with you these past months as your master recovered. Perhaps at the cost of my own padawan, I now see. I gave my time and energy to you, is that not enough?"
"You're not /mine/ Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan oh how hes the best, best looking, best at the lightsaber, ahead of his class, better than my brother, its not /fair/ What does he have that I don't?"
"Grief."
Bant stepped forward from the padawans. "Insane grief. He misses his master so badly, yet he's never there, he's with you. Congratulations, Kinah. You achieved your goal," She stopped, tears burning, "You've distracted the master long enough to leave Obi-Wan all alone."
Kinah bared her teeth at Bant, to her master's dismay.
"Padawan," Tahl whispered, before falling silent.
Qui-Gon stood, his height towering over Kinah. While previously, he never seemed harmful to the young girl, she stepped back as hostility radiated off of the Jedi Master. He looked to the crowd.
"Are there any here who would speak out against this? Who knows the truth of recent events?"
Many, many small hands rose in the air. Kinah and Bruck each gasped.
"Then let this be dealt with. With your permission master, I wish to see my padawan now."
"Should have seen him long before, you should. Pray to the force you can make amends we do. Go," Yoda said sternly. Qui-Gon nodded and made his way at a brisk pace out of the audience chamber.
As he made his way through the long corridors, Qui-Gon again attempted to reach his padawan through the bond. He inhaled sharply – And started towards the medward at a jog.
It was as if the bond was not only dormant, but… cold. Frozen. Unused. Broken.
The elder master rounded the final corner and hastily opened the door to his padawans sick bed and felt himself grow heavy, his breathing rapid as he saw what in his heart he sensed-
The bed was empty save a few droplets of blood.
0ooooooooooooooooooooooo0
Commandent Rynik Draum was getting very… irritated.
"For Bawlk's sakes, what on Telos is taking so long?" He growled into the communications station, his nimble hands bracing the worn leather pilots chair. Static was his answer. He sighed, running his hands through his raven black hair, scratching at his eyebrow. Two hours of his life, wasted. Two hours he was never going to get back because he was sitting at the Inter-Republic Couresaunt Space Port. Two hours because they had upped security for some reason or another. Two hours behind schedule. He groaned.
"Apologies, sir, we expect your take off within the next hour, sir-" the terminal buzzed.
"You said that an hour ago!" Rynik barked, exasperated.
"Within the hour-" The channel closed.
Rynik bowed his head for a moment, then stood, wincing as many things cracked in protest. Rubbing his knuckles on his worn tan uniform, he struggled to get the tingly feeling out of his feet and wobbled to the back of his ship.
"Aw Alastor, I wish we were up and gone already," He murmured to the ship, his hand touching the bulkhead as he strolled the narrow corridor. Before he entered the main cargo hold, a light winked on and off to his right.
Giddy, he punched the communications patch.
"Commandent Draum."
Rynik's smile faded into a scowl.
"Yes, Senator Palpatine. For what do I do the honor of this fine transmition?" He said monotone. Oh for crying out loud, not more politics. Please.
"One… final request to you," the sly senator's voice inquired. "A package I wish to locate."
"Package? What do you mean?" Rynik asked skeptically, drumming his fingers on the door pannel.
"Just your luck, really. I've discovered… a valuable… parcel within your immediate location. A boy."
Rynik snorted. "A boy."
"I have contacted authorities in your immediate area. They are searching for him now. In the event that he manages to board a vessel to leave orbit, I wish for you to… return him to me."
Rynik frowned. A kid? Why would a senator be so stoked to capture a kid?
"What aren't you telling me?"
Palpatine practically sneered through the intercom. "He has… great potential with my associates if he continues on his current path. Return him to me when you find him." The link went dead.
What the hell? The officer thought to himself, turning and making his way back to the cockpit. He was an ambassador of the Askenti system, not a babysitter. Hell, after today he hoped never to step foot in this galaxy again, it didn't suit him. He preferred to live beyond the rim, beyond the corruption of the republic. And no stupid request like finding a lost boy was going to delay his departure.
The tall Medinan sat with a huff in his seat, leaning back and resting his head on the back edge. His hooded brown eyes took in the chaos of the largest port in this system. Several maintenance droids puttered before his ship, beeping back and forth to each other about who knows what. A protocol droid stepped into his field of vision, accompanied by several republic soldiers. They flanked and appeared to be searching the area.
The kid, Rynik thought to himself. So the greedy little rat of a senator really wanted the boy bad. Rynik snorted.
Before him, a small cargo ship taxied onto the landing pad, the rusted hunk of metal quivering as the ship hovered to its takeoff point. Rynik was envious – the sooner he got out of this system, the sooner he'd be back home.
The ship seemed to stall half way onto the pad. The commandent closed his eyes. Yet more delays? Upon opening them again, a large cloud of steam emanated from the ship, and he blinked in surprise when the outer hatch opened. A dug was piloting the craft, and seemed irritated as he booted what looked like a sack out of his ship and slammed the door. The ship began to move again and the cloud cleared –
Rynik sat forward when he realized that the "sac" was moving. And stained red. Concern flashed in his mind. And then realization – was this the boy? He frowned.
Without hesitation, he stood and grabbed his blaster from its holster and opened his own hatch, dropping with a grunt to the dirty grating below. Outside his ship, the port was loud, noises and signals screaming in every which direction. He made his way to the bundle on the ground.
It was indeed a boy, dressed in loose tan robes and speckled with dried blood. Rynik tried to yell, but it was useless over the din of machinery and noise. He squatted, touching the boy's shoulder. A mess of golden hair emerged from the fabric, eyes squinted and disoriented.
Rynik was about to ask who the boy was when he caught sight of the bright outfits of republic guards. Scowling, he grabbed the boy and hauled him upwards, only to have the youth crumple to the ground. Rynik swallowed, and scooped him up, ducking back to the Alastor.
Once in the relative safety of his ship, the pilot plunked the boy down in the corridor. It was just a kid – whatever the senator wanted with him, it was probably not something healthy for the boy. Huge, luminous sea-green eyes examined him. The boy did not speak.
Rynik swallowed. "What are you running from?" He asked, his tone gentle.
The boy opened his mouth to speak, and after a moment-
"I.. I don't know. I'm running from… pain, and dreams."
"I tell you what kid, you've got some nasty people running after /you/. See all those guys out there? They want you."
The boy shook his head, closing his eyes, "I don't know why – I just… I can't go back- back to being forgotten." The boy opened his eyes, tears glistening. Rynik inhaled, and looked at him – dried blood around the nose, too thin, dirty. Something metal poked out from his belt. The boy glanced down, and was quick to hide it.
"I cannot go back to them."
Rynik nodded, seemingly thinking. "So… you're running away from your past, essentially?"
A nod.
"And you don't wish to be Jedi."
The boy started, eyes wide. The pilot put his hands in the air in a gesture of peace.
"No, no, its ok. Well… let me tell you something, kid. There is a nasty, nasty little buggar of a politician looking for you – never a good thing. And you don't look like life's been treating you well. Um… I know this… guy. He said to me once – Don't run away from your past…" Rynik paused, looking past the boy, " Run towards hope."
"Where is hope?"
"I don't know. But if you want to run with me, you can."
The boy paused, wiping his face with his dirty sleeve. He looked up at Rynik, his small fourteen year old hand reaching to the pilot.
"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and… I want to have hope."
Rynik smiled gently, and took the boy's hand, his grip warm and firm.
"Hello, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My name is Rynik Draum. I can't tell you where it is, or what will make you happy. But I can get you away from the Senator."
"Where are you going?"
The pilot smiled. "Why, I'm going home. Beyond the outer rim of this place."
Obi-Wan looked to the ground, blinking back tears. "Is it nice there?"
Rynik stood, pulling the boy up with him. "The world and people I serve are proud and strong. There are few force users there – it's the strength of will that makes us strong." Obi-Wan followed the man to the cockpit of the ship. Rynik motioned for the boy to take a seat. "I was… running away too, when I was about your age. And then I met a man who would one day be a king. And he told me to run towards hope too."
The padawan sniffed, watching as the tall man started inputting data into his terminal. The man turned to look at him, offering that genuine smile again. "I could take you to him. He's a good man."
Obi-Wan braced himself as the ship began its way to the landing pad. He watched in silence as many, many republic troops flocked the area… all looking for him? Why did the senator who he'd never met want him? Was it the Jedi employing them to find him?
Could he really go back and watch his master look at him in disgust, as it had been for months?
"Mr. Rynik."
"Yes, Obi-Wan."
"I want to go."
0oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo0
Qui-Gon Jinn sat alone in his padawans room, his hands clenching a small round object. Yoda came in slowly, and stood before the master.
"Too long it took, to realize. Too long, we left him alone."
Qui-Gon lifted his head, his eyes moist, face a mask of pain.
"I forgot him. For her. I didn't even realize it. What kind of master am I? What have I done?"
Yoda was silent. Qui-Gon laughed hoarsely, shaking his head, long strands of soft hair swishing before his blurry vision.
"He's gone. I know it."
Yoda grasped his knee, holding tightly. "Find him, you must. Before too late, it is." The elder master looked deeply into Qui-Gons eyes. "The dark, I sense, chases him. Too much pain, anger, and it follows him."
"No, not Obi-Wan-"
Yoda squeezed again. "We must find him. You must find him. Love him, do you? Wish him to become his dream, a knight?"
A breath - "Yes."
"Then we find him. And when we do – never again, let him go."
"Never… never again."
Yoda stood back, and motioned for the dejected master to follow. "Another Padawan, I will not loose to grief. Another Padawan, we will not abandon to the pain of being alone." Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, closing his eyes at yet another painful memory. Determined now, he stood, and followed Yoda out into the temple.