Disclaimer: Star Wars brings in tons of money and as I have not seen a single cent of that money, I am not George Lucas and therefore don't own Star Wars. And sadly, that means I don't own Obi-Wan either.
Summary: The second story in the Jedi Trials series. Obi-Wan's been captured, Qui-Gon's left the Jedi Order, and Anakin must learn to trust his new Master. The Republic is on the brink of war and only Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, and Anakin can save the galaxy.
Author's Notes: I can't believe I found time in my busy schedule to write this, but I did. That makes me extremely happy. Thank you for the wonderful feedback! I loved all of your reviews! I'm not going to even try to guess when the next chapter will be out, but maybe if you guys are really lucky, I'll be able to write it during the weekend…maybe. But no promises.
Out of Phase - Thank you for the kind review.
SWTKD - Thank you. I hate it when sequels are no where near as good as the original story. I'm glad you think this one is just as good as the first!
The Strange - My lips are sealed...as always.
Katieelessar - Drastic, I fear, is Jango's middle name. I'm not promising you that Obi-Wan won't be harmed, because honestly, look at the title of the fic. There's going to be torture and there's going to be death...but I won't tell you who's it's going to be. I hate hurting my Obi-Wan...
Lanthir1 - Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the story.
Funyun - Yes, more guessing games. I live for guessing games! I can't tell you exactly what sort of darkness it is. That would give away the ending far too much, and boy do I have a great ending. I'd love to tell you exactly what will happen in this fic and in the next one, but there is no way that I can do that. My secrets must be kept safe!
Ally127 - Simply, Qui-Gon went because he felt like it was the right thing to do. I think the next chapter might be Qui-Gon, but I'm debating on having another Obi-Wan chapter instead. You'll find out what Qui-Gon was thinking soon though. I promise. Sadly, this will not be a happy fic at all. When I think about it, I see no happy chapters at all...which is why this is in the angst category. I love angst.
Torture and Death
By Kekelina
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Chapter Two: Darkness
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A voice moaned in the darkness. The sound of robes shifting echoed throughout the cell. Blue eyes opened to be met by the sight of nothing. No light, no door, no wall…no nothing. Everything was black. Everything was dark. The air smelled damp. The silence was deafening. And Obi-Wan's head hurt like a Sith.
Obi-Wan struggled to sit up. His body felt on fire. Whatever that bounty hunter had put into his system had not only knocked him out, but made him feel like he'd just sparred for hours on end with Master Yoda. He scooted himself up to the wall, and grimaced in pain when his head hit a rock protruding from the cold, wet wall.
He blinked, hoping to reduce the pain, but nothing happened. He blinked again, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. But they didn't. He still only saw the deep, impenetrable darkness. Was he blind? He tried to blink again, but couldn't keep the panic from rising when he still saw no light nor a feeble outline of the room. There was nothing.
He breathed a calming breath, trying to find his calm center. He'd never been very good at finding his calm center, but he had always managed to find it before. But not now. He couldn't grasp it. He couldn't feel the Force fill him. It simply wouldn't. He breathed again, closed his eyes, let his rigid body slump, and grasped for the Force again. He felt it.
But it wasn't the Force he was used to feeling. It was filled with the dark side and kept slipping through his fingers. He tried to keep hold of it, but the darkness made him feel sick. His head pounded even worse than when he had woken up, and he was forced to abandon his attempts for the moment.
He groaned and doubled over, taking deep, slow breaths to keep himself from acting upon the sudden urge to vomit. He had never felt the Force like that. It had been dark…so very dark. He shuddered. Pure, unadulterated darkness. His brow was covered in a thin layer of sweat though his body convulsed from chills. Only the dark side of the Force was able to cause such a reaction in a Jedi so quickly.
Where am I?
The question haunted him. Without the Force it was impossible to tell. All he knew was that he was sitting in a cell made of rock, he couldn't see anything, his hands were in binders, and the Force was the darkest he had ever felt it. Perfect.
Was this really the road he should've taken? In the diner, it had seemed like a good idea. Destroyers and a bounty hunter with a rocket-pack had surrounded him. It had been a choice of life or death, a chance to find out who was trying to kill the Senator or spend an eternity in the Force. Jedi were prepared for death, yes, but Obi-Wan hadn't been. He hadn't been ready to die. He hadn't wanted to die. He was only thirty-five cycles. Many of his friends had died before they reached their thirtieth. He had a good life as Jedi – he hadn't wanted to give that up. Not yet. So he had chosen capture. But now he was beginning to wonder if capture was such a good idea.
Obi-Wan had been capture many times in all his years as a Jedi. Perhaps more than he should have been. He had always managed to successfully escape, and he had been sure that this time would be no different. But he shouldn't have been so arrogant. He didn't know this bounty hunter's skill, and he had not been expecting to be without the Force. In all those many instances of capture, there had always been one constant. The Force. It had gotten him out of certain death situations, kept him from losing his memory, but now…he didn't have it. All he felt was the dark side. And it made him feel completely and utterly alone.
Obi-Wan sighed, adjusting his position against the wall to keep a sharp rock from poking his back. What was he going to do? He had absolutely no ideas for his escape, and he didn't even really know where he was escaping from. His head was still pounding, the effects of the drug were still clouding his mind, his entire body felt like it was on fire, and nobody even knew where he was. The Council wouldn't even realize he was missing until a galactic standard month passed. They wouldn't send a team out until then… Would it be too late? Would Obi-Wan still be here? Would he still be alive? This clouded side of the Force held no answers for him.
He shook his head, but immediately stopped when he realized that was not a very good idea. He was nauseous and dizzy, and as much as Obi-Wan hated going to the Healers, he would give anything just to be lying in a bed in the med center. At least there he was safe. At least there he was home.
Stop it, Kenobi! he chastised himself. Don't lose hope so quickly.
But that was easier said than done. He could see no good side to this. The dark side was manipulating his thoughts to become negative, and had his head not been hurting, he might've been able to fight it, but right now it was a lost cause. He should've listened to his feelings instead of walking into the diner. The Force had warned him to stay away, but he had ignored it. Maybe that's why it had abandoned him.
The Force doesn't abandon anyone. It is always around us. Sometimes it just takes awhile to find it.
Qui-Gon's words. Any other time, Obi-Wan's dry humor would've made some sort of rude comment about Qui-Gon abandoning him, but right now, those words brought comfort. They had brought up a memory from the back of his mind, made him realize something he hadn't before.
When Obi-Wan had been a Padawan, he had almost had his memory erased. The only way he had survived with his memory in tact was by wrapping the Force around his memories to protect them. It had been quite successful, but it wouldn't have been had Obi-Wan not realized that the river stone Qui-Gon had given him for his thirteenth birthday was Force-sensitive. That had been how he'd had such a strong connection to the Force. It had been with him the entire time in his tunic pocket. And it still was.
As quickly as his bound hands would allow him, he reached inside his tunic, groping for the river stone. He felt around every inch of his pocket desperately. He needed that stone. He needed the Force. It was the only connection he had left that wasn't tainted by the dark side.
It wasn't in his pocket.
He checked the rest of his tunic quickly, becoming quite frenzied, but again found nothing. He scooted along the ground as fast as his sore body would allow, desperately hoping it had simply fallen out while he was asleep. He found plenty of stones on the ground, some of which he was sure had cut his hand, but none of them was his stone.
He was utterly confused now. Why would the bounty hunter take his river stone away? How had he known about it in the first place? He couldn't possibly have known. After all, it was just a rock. It would take another Force-sensitive to realize exactly what the stone was. But the bounty hunter wasn't a Force-sensitive; of that Obi-Wan was sure. So who had taken his stone? And when exactly was it taken? Could it just have possibly fallen out like Obi-Wan originally thought?
Obi-Wan had carried that stone with him for more than twenty years. It had been tucked away in a special pocket in his tunic that Bant had made herself. He'd fought with it, swam with it – leapt, rolled, and fallen with it. If it had stayed safely in its place through all these years, why would Obi-Wan assume that it would fall out when he was capture. No, someone had taken his stone because they knew what it was.
That meant he was dealing with a Force-sensitive.
A person who dwelt in the dark side.
A person who knew exactly what he was doing.
A Sith.
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The Other Author's Notes: Dun dun dun… Sadly, this is only the beginning of the pain Obi-Wan will go through during the course of this story. Hey, at least he isn't dead…yet. Moohahahaha! I'm evil and I love it. Keep those reviews coming!