Charismilena – It has to be difficult for Qui-Gon to watch Crion because he is in many ways like Xanatos. I think over time, Qui-Gon will see that they are different though. As for what will happen with Xanatos, I will let everyone wonder about that.

LianneZ4 – I think Crion has that sort of disdain yet love that older siblings have for their younger. Probably also a healthy dose of "no one picks on him but me". There will be more Crion and Anakin fluff as we go along.

Valairy Scot - I too enjoy Crion's irreverence it using it also.

Geri K – I like the closeness Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan have here also. I like to think they would have remained close had Qui-Gon lived.

Jacen200015 – Thanks

sterling5842 – I can completely see a young Anakin spilling all of Crion's secrets and that it would unnerve Crion to no end. Thanks for reading.

TheWater'sChild - Yes, Xanatos has in no way disappeared from this story.

Chapter 11

The sound of a piercing cry filled his ears. It wasn't so much the sound that stirred him as the grappling through the Force, a reaching out for someone who wasn't so helpless, someone who might be able to help.

Xanatos awakened, startled. Someone should have heard his son crying, Mia, a caretaker, someone. They should have gone to him and assured him he was safe. Yet the wailing continued, growing louder. Xanatos left his room, trailing down the darkened hallway toward the nursery. He stopped at the door, ready to palm it open. It refused to open. He repeatedly hit the button. The cries inside grew more urgent, fingers of panic and fear raking through Xanatos' mind.

"Crion, I'm here," he called through the door.

He tried the Force, prying it open with brute strength, even attempting to rip the control mechanism from the wall, but the door wouldn't budge. Xanatos ran a hand through his hair, seething in frustration. Crion was trapped, terrified, perhaps hurt, and he was helpless to do anything. He began to bang on the door frantically, determined to tear it down with his bare hands if it came to that.

"Crion, I'm here," he called again. "I'm coming."

"Sir!"

Xanatos' eyes snapped open as a hand grasped onto his arm and shook him. He found he was facing a door that was marred by deep dents that were the size of human fists, his fists. He knew this because he hands were beginning to ache, bruises already showing up across his pale skin.

"Sir, are you okay?"

He glanced to the side, acknowledging one of his housing security staff. The night guard had probably seen him on the monitors. It was awkward, but he felt no need to explain why he had been trying to beat down one of his own doors. The young man was new and had likely not been briefed on the dangers of startling his employer. It was fortunate he had not be thrown across the room.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream," Xanatos explained. "Return to your post."

"Yes, Sir," the guard said, making a hasty retreat.

Xanatos ran a hand down what he now recognized as the door to Crion's room. Last he remembered, he had settled into bed. He didn't know how he had gotten to a door, but echoes of his son's ghostly cries nagged at his mind. There was no crying now. Of course there wouldn't be. Crion had been gone for over 10 years.

"Just a dream," he whispered.

Xanatos rested his hand on the door controls, certain the door would now open and an infant boy would not be trapped inside. Sure enough, it slid open with ease allowing him to step inside. The room had changed over the years. Gone were the crib and the generous amounts of toys. In its place was a bed, a desk and chair. The only object from the original nursery that Xanatos had been unable to part with was a small blue blanket that would be forever etched in his memory. The holos of his son also remained.

He sat down cross-legged on the sleepcouch. The dream had felt so real, and even now he could sense that the Force was still agitated. The fallen Jedi closed his eyes, testing the currents that swarmed around him in warning. It had been a long time since he had truly meditated, but certain his son was in trouble and frightened, he embraced the Force. Immersing himself deeply, he cleared his mind and cast one thought along with all the comfort and love he could muster across an old bond into the vastness of space.

{I'm here. Don't be afraid.}

It was night, the planet had three moons, and the sound of some creature howling could be heard in the distance. That was about all Crion could determine of his surroundings from within his prison of twisted metal. He wondered for a short amount of time if this is where his life would end after only a year apprenticed to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy was still strapped into the seat his master had sent him to, insisting he would be safer in the cargo hold. What remained of that cargo hold was crumpled over him, lying across his chest, pinning him to the ground. He wiggled his toes, relieved they would move, but still cringing at pain. His heavily bruised body ached, but pain was good. It meant he was alive and not paralyzed. He accepted it and did his best to release it to the Force.

He highly suspected that the sticky, slimy ooze that trailed down the side of his head was blood. It was drying and itched horribly, but his arms were pinned so he couldn't do anything about it. The urge to panic nearly overtook him. For the first time in his life, he was truly terrified.

"Master?" he called out in a hoarse voice. Force, he was thirsty.

He made a clumsy lunge into the Force with his mind, searching out the presence of his master. Obi-Wan was near, but unconscious and injured.

"Master, please answer me."

He cursed the wreckage and his ineptitude in the Force. If he was older and better trained, he could levitate the debris off of his body and go help his master. Instead he was trapped. He tried to quell the sudden surge of fear at being alone, attempting to cast it out into the Force as he stifled a sob. Was help on the way? His senses were not attuned enough to determine the extent of Obi-Wan's injuries. For all he knew, his master could be lying there dying. Another piercing howl cut through him, this one sounding closer.

{I'm here. Don't be afraid.}

The voice didn't come from his bond with his master. Although he didn't recognize it, the soft tone was strangely familiar, like he had known it all his life. He welcomed the feeling of safety and security it provided. It settled him, giving him the focus to center himself in the Force. The presence soon faded, perhaps a figment of his imagination, perhaps only sustained by the desperation of the moment. It was replaced by something incredibly more tangible, the sensation of his master's alert mind searching for him, and Obi-Wan's joyful relief in finding him alive. Crion waited for what seemed like an eternity until the nearby sound of something being dragged along the ground drew his attention.

"Master?"

"I'm here, Padawan," the voice ground out with effort. Even though his master was close, Crion still felt distance between them.

"Why are you shielding so heavily, Master?" Crion asked worriedly.

"You don't need to deal with my pain on top of your own," Obi-Wan replied. "My leg is fractured; I have several cracked ribs, and took a good blow to the head. I am sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I lost consciousness right after we crashed." The Jedi grew silent for a moment. Crion could hear the shifting of debris around his head, and was alarmed by the groaning of metal that suggested his prison might just cave in on him.

"No good," Obi-Wan murmured to himself before raising his voice. "Crion, whatever you do, don't move."

The sound of a lightsaber igniting was not encouraging, nor was the heat that Crion felt beside his head. His master was cutting through the debris to get to him.

"Master?" Crion called. "Not that I don't appreciate the rescue, but didn't you say you took a blow to the head?"

"Don't worry, Padawan. I can still sense exactly where your head is, and I don't intend to cut it off."

"That's reassuring."

The next thing Crion was aware of was a burst of frigid air as the part of the cargo hold covering his head was pulled away. Obi-Wan flashed into view, looking worse for the wear. Warms hands came to rest on side of his head, warmth flooding his body as his master checked for injuries.

"Thank the Force," Obi-Wan murmured. "No serious injuries. Can you move?"

"Except for being pinned, yes." Crion turned his head, grimacing at the strain on sore muscles. "Any chance of getting the rest of the ship off of me?"

Obi-Wan studied it for a while, probing the wreckage through the Force before nodding his head. "Sorry, Padawan. The debris is supported and stable. I am afraid that if I shift it, it could fall and hurt you." Obi-Wan looked back out across the grasslands as a stiff gust of wind tugged at his cloak. He drew the thick fabric more tightly around him. "Besides, it gives you cover from the wind."

"How long before someone comes?"

"We aren't far from Coruscant. I was able to send out a distress signal so help should be here by morning."

The familiar incandescence of a glow rod replaced what illumination the lightsaber had provided.

"I need to take a look at your head wound."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Crion shot back. He hissed as his master poked at the wound, grimacing when he felt the ooze of bacta covering it. "I must have hit my head pretty hard. I was hearing voices earlier."

"Voices?"

"One voice really, a man's voice. I was really afraid. It spoke to me like you do, when you speak into my mind and helped calm me – probably just my imagination."

"Possibly," Obi-Wan said softly after a long pause. "Just let me know if you hear it again." The young master pulled his hood up over his head and pulled himself closer to the opening he had cut.

"Master, you need to find some shelter," Crion said, feeling another burst of cold. The fresh air actually felt good to him, but he worried about his master being exposed to the brunt of it.

"I will be fine. We need to talk and try to keep each other conscious."

Crion wasn't quite sure when he had dozed off. Obviously, his and Obi-Wan's attempts at staying awake had failed miserably. His master was slumped against the wreckage, robe still pulled tightly around him, sound asleep. It was the sound of approaching footsteps that had caused Crion to stir. He wasn't afraid. He sensed the presences of luminous beings in the Force, a rescue party.

"Obi-Wan?"

The Jedi padawan recognized the lilting baritone of Qui-Gon Jinn right before a large hand came to rest on his master's forehead.

"Over here, Bant," Qui-Gon called.

The Jedi master hurriedly shrugged off his robe, before tucking it around Obi-Wan. The young master seemed to instinctively burrow into the warmth. Then, Qui-Gon stretched his head in through the opening in the wreckage.

"I wasn't piloting, Master Jinn," Crion blurted out for some reason.

"Obviously," Qui-Gon replied with a soft, concerned smile. "I would be a bit concerned if you had been piloting from where you were strapped into the cargo hold."

The next voice Crion heard was that of Healer Eerin, one of Obi-Wan's best friends. "It's safe to move him. Let's lay him on the stretcher, carefully, his leg is broken. I want to get him onto the ship and start warming him up."

"You should go with them," Crion said.

"I think I will stay here and keep you company. Obi-Wan is in good hands, and Bant will just scold me and tell me that I'm getting in the way."

"I told my master to find somewhere warmer, but he wouldn't listen to me," Crion said.

"Of course not. Didn't you know that Jedi masters are among the most stubborn beings to ever roam the galaxy, especially when an injured padawan is involved?"

Qui-Gon leaned back and began to study what remained of the wreckage. "It shouldn't take long to get you out of here, and then we will go back to the Temple. The good news is that you both are due for an extended vacation."

"Yeah, the bad news is that we will be spending it in the Healer's Ward."

The Jedi master let out a light chuckle. "Good to know your wit is still intact"

"I thought I was going to lose him for a while," Crion admitted.

"Obi-Wan is going to be fine," Qui-Gon assured him. "Trust me, he has been through worse."

Obi-Wan wasn't exactly certain where he was as he began to wake up. In fact, he really didn't care. It was just good to be warm again. He sensed his master at his side, just as he had so many times as a padawan, and knew he was safe.

"Master," he murmured contentedly, finally acknowledging that he was in the Healer's Ward yet again.

"You should have found shelter," Qui-Gon scolded immediately.

"I know," Obi-Wan admitted. "I just couldn't leave him alone."

"Which is what would have happened if you had frozen to death." Qui-Gon's lips twitched in amusement as the young man squirmed under this gaze. "Surely you remember how to build a fire to keep warm. I did teach you how to do that."

"There wasn't much to build a fire with," Obi-Wan pointed out. "And last I checked, wind, fire, and grasslands are not a good combination."

"True."

"Where is Crion?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He's still in the bacta tank." Seeing the telltale signs of worry flitter across his former padawan's face, Qui-Gon quickly reassured him. "There is nothing serious, just a lot of bruising and scrapes. Bant wanted to keep him in a little longer. Anakin is sitting with him."

"I hope Crion is sedated then." Obi-Wan's laugher turned to choking. He clutched at his still sore ribs as he calmed himself. "I actually had something I needed to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"I think Xanatos and Crion had a bond," Obi-Wan said softly.

"What makes you say that?"

"Crion was terrified when he regained consciousness after we crashed. He said that he tried unsuccessfully to release it to the Force. Then he heard a voice telling him to not be afraid. He said that it felt it like when I speak to him in his mind along our bond."

"Mia did say that Xanatos seemed able to communicate with Crion without using words," Qui-Gon offered. "But, that shouldn't be possible over such a distance. What did you tell him?"

"To let me know if he hears the voice anymore." Obi-Wan closed his eyes wearily. "What happens if Xanatos ever finds him? I worry that Crion will find out and feel betrayed that I kept the identity of his father from him."

"You can't tell him, Padawan."

"I know." Obi-Wan shook his head sadly, suddenly seeming very interested in a loose thread on the blanket covering him. "I just did not like having to look my apprentice in the eyes and withhold the truth from him."