Anything that can go wrong will.

Feriae Junction, typically just known as Junction, was an industrialist trading world— it didn't produce anything except a place for people to sell their wares. People were in and out constantly, up to business both legal and not. It was a good place to hide your ill doings.

It was also crowded, hot with exhaust steam and warm bodies, and so devoid of plant life that it made Qui-Gon's skin crawl.

"Stay close," he told Obi-Wan.

"If I was any closer, Master, we'd be sharing a cloak," Obi-Wan grumbled, and Qui-Gon's lips quirked.

Shmi had taken one look at the crowd and elected to stay onboard the ship with the baby. Qui-Gon didn't blame her. Jango, their other Mandalorian guest, had slipped into the mass of bodies almost as soon as he'd gotten off the ship, to go do recon. You wouldn't think such distinctive armor would blend into a crowd so well, but as soon as he didn't want to be seen he was almost impossible to spot.

It was fair enough; a little knowledge of what they were getting themselves into would not go remiss, and Qui-Gon and his padawan had a meeting to get to anyway.

They found Tholme and his padawan Quinlan, somewhat predictably, in a bar. This was usually where Tholme wanted to meet up on covert missions, though considering the handful Quinlan was, it made sense he wanted to get a drink.

Quinlan saw them first and perked up. "Kenobi!" he said gleefully, and hopped off his barstool to sweep Obi-Wan into a hug.

Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's shields tightening a hair; deference to his friend's psychometric abilities. Though Qui-Gon doubted Quinlan could get a glimpse into Obi-Wan's head if he tried— nor could, possibly, anyone. Qui-Gon had gotten just a few peeks into his future-seeing padawan's head, and he could understand why he might want to keep it to himself.

"Vos," Obi-Wan said back, looking beleaguered but sounding fond. He endured the hug, then elbowed Quinlan and made him drop him back onto the floor.

"Hello, Tholme," Qui-Gon said, sliding into Quinlan's abandoned seat and gesturing to the bartender to bring him a drink. "Still alive, I see."

"For now," Tholme said.

They grinned and clasped arms, forearm to forearm. "Good to see you," Qui-Gon said. "Did the Council brief you?"

"So much as they could," Tholme said. "Not a lot of information to go off yet. But I've been looking into it."

"And?"

Tholme whistled Quinlan over— stopping him, apparently, from giving Qui-Gon's own apprentice a rather heartfelt noogie. "Quinlan— our intel?"

"Oh, yes, Master," Quinlan said, adopting a straightened posture— the classic look of a padawan trying to impress their Master. Too bad Qui-Gon almost never saw it on Obi-Wan. "The Controllers," he recited. "An up-and-coming slavery operation." He shifted from foot to foot, clearly trying to recall all the information at once. "Um, we couldn't find out who they're working for right now, but lately the Controllers have been rounding people up for labor camps in the Outer Rim."

"Why don't I know of them?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning.

"I guess there's still things in this galaxy that can stump you," Quinlan said. "Who knew?"

"Ha-ha," Obi-Wan said.

Tholme grinned and slugged back the last of his drink. "People have been going missing all over, though," he said. "More little pockets of trafficking like the one you found on Mandalore, I'd wager."

"Troubling news," Qui-Gon said. "Even if we stop it here, it will be just like Mandalore— they'll just move on to another location."

"The way of most slavery operations," Tholme said grimly.

"I guess that means we have to take them out at the root," Jango said, sliding onto a stool next to them. None of the Jedi jumped, too trained out of the reaction, though Qui-Gon was surprised. Jango looked disappointed not to have scared them. "I found their base of operations here. They set off tomorrow."

"That was quick," Tholme said.

Fett's helmet was off; he flashed a smile. "I work fast."

"The Council has authorized us to take out the slavery ring if we can," Qui-Gon emphazised. "And simply rescue the prisoners and gather information if not."

Not to say that Qui-Gon always followed the suggestions of the Council.

"But if things happen to go that way…?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Then that is the will of the Force," Qui-Gon said.

"Oh, good," Obi-Wan said. "Because I have some ideas. But I don't think you're going to like them."

Obi-Wan was usually right about these types of things.

Qui-Gon had not liked the plan. Neither had Master Tholme. But in the end, they'd had to agree, for simple lack of better options.

They were standing outside of the very shady shipyard Jango had led them to, Obi-Wan and Quinlan dressed in civvies, the adults gathered around.

"Here," Jango said, passing out two small devices. "We call 'em worms— two-way communications system, undetectable on preliminary scans."

Obi-Wan was familiar with them, though the GAR had called them Covert Communications Devices. He put it behind his ear and it burrowed in— just like a worm.

"Oh, gross," Quinlan said. "Do I have to?"

"Sorry, little nipper," Jango said.

Quinlan grimaced and put the device in his ear, making a face when it went in.

"So long as you turn them off, they'll hold up against cursory scans, just to make sure you don't already have a slave chip or an open comm, but anything deeper than that and they'll detect the worms," Shmi said. "So take care that doesn't happen."

"Yes, ma'am," Quinlan said.

"We'll be listening in," Qui-Gon said.

"You give the word if things look like they're going sideways," said Tholme. "We'll come in."

"Got it," chorused Obi-Wan and Quinlan.

Qui-Gon still looked apprehensive. Jedi very often sent their younglings on risky missions— it was the only way to learn, after all. But their Masters were usually with them, and missions did not usually involve being intentionally captured.

"We've got it, Master," Obi-Wan said.

"All right," Qui-Gon said, and held out a hand. Obi-Wan carefully put his lightsaber into it. Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan's padawan braid a sharp, affectionate tug, then tucked it into his nerf-tail, tying it off with one of the leather ties Qui-Gon usually used to put his own hair up.

Quinlan and Tholme were performing a similar operation next to them, Quinlan's saber hanging off Tholme's belt as he bundled Quinlan's braid into his dreads.

"Keep your heads down," Shmi advised. "Don't look anyone in the eye. Be careful and smart."

"Those are our middle names," Quinlan said, and grinned.

"Which one are you supposed to be?" Obi-Wan asked. Quinlan laughed.

They waved at their Masters one more time, and went into the shipyard.

This area of Junction was much more informal than the spaceport on Mandalore— just an open market-type area with ships scattered around in a very wide semicircle. They would range from legitimate traders to transporters to personal vessels. You could almost always try to hire one or get transport on one, very especially if you were looking to be discreet.

He and Quinlan skirted the edges.

"Seems like a slow way of operating," Quinlan said. They couldn't make a beeline for the Controllers, not without arousing suspicion. So they took a slow, circuitous path. "Collecting slaves one-by-one."

"In a way," Obi-Wan said. "But it's also much more subtle than enslaving entire populations, or taking over a full planet. They can use them to fill out personnel like Offworld used to do."

Actually, Offworld Corporation had been very quiet on that front lately— they had switched from slave labor to very quietly using the paid workforces of already-dying economies. This meant that Offworld could usually get a subsidy from those governments for providing jobs; more money, even, than they would have made with unpaid labor.

Trust Xanatos du Crion to do the right thing and the sensible thing at the same time.

"Not to mention that once they have a good little contingent of slaves built up, they can use that money to buy bigger and better slave-making operations," said Jango's voice bitterly in their ears.

"Stay on task," Tholme said.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Quinlan said.

"I might have said, yes, Master," Tholme said inside their ears.

"Well, I haven't even been knighted yet, but if you want to call me Master, go ahead," Quinlan said, and Obi-Wan heard the unmistakable sound of a laugh being stifled from the other end of the comm.

"You know I could have taken on a different padawan," Tholme said. "Any number of wonderful padawans from the Temple."

"Yes, Master," Quinlan said cheerfully.

Obi-Wan grinned. Then he caught sight of the Controller ship and nudged Quinlan. It was an ugly ship, half-hidden by the exhaust steam that always accumulated around so many ships. This type of freighter was used very popularly by smugglers.

"There we are," said Quinlan. "Are you ready to get kidnapped?"

It was a risky plan, but not a stupid one. Tholme and Qui-Gon were too big and too threatening-looking to ever be seen as an easy target; same with Jango. Shmi had a kid, of course, and she wasn't trained like a Jedi was. That left Obi-Wan and Quinlan.

Obi-Wan had taken on much more dangerous missions than letting himself be picked up by a two-bit slavers' operation, and Quinlan was just crazy. They weren't nervous.

"More than," Obi-Wan said.

There was a Rodian, very big and bulky for his species, coming down the open ramp of the ship— he stopped and visibly brightened when he saw them. He was wearing the uniform with the Controllers' insignia on it.

Experience had taught Obi-Wan how to identify slavers— both by going after them for arrest, or them going after him to take him captive. They had a certain look to them, in person but also in the Force. Anyone who kept slaves was not a good person, and their Force presence was usually greasy and unwelcoming. It was the same for this man.

Obi-Wan and Quinlan continued to pretend to be cheerfully oblivious, focused on gawking at the sights around them.

Just a couple of young, naive kids. Out to see the sights— not at all acquainted with the horrors of the wider universe. That was, of course, pushing it if you knew anything at all about Quinlan and Obi-Wan.

"Let them think they're pulling you in," Jango said.

"We're not shinies," Obi-Wan said, amused. "We know what we're doing."

The Rodian approached, and waved to get their attention. He looked open and friendly, but his Force signature roiled with greed.

"Hey, kids," he said. "You lost?"

"Nope!" Obi-Wan said cheerfully. "We're looking for passage on a ship. Do you know where we could find someone to take us?"

"What's your destination?"

"Anywhere!" Quinlan said. "We want adventure."

Dollar signs almost appeared in the Rodian's galaxy eyes. "Oh," he said. "You're in luck. I might just have some spots available on my ship. But should two kids be travelling alone? Don't you have someone worried for you?"

Obi-Wan was offended on behalf of his alias' intelligence— he was supposed to pretend to not think anything was strange about a question like that? But his bright, wide-eyed look didn't falter.

"We left our families back on Barkesh," Quinlan said. "We didn't want to be farmers forever— we set out to see the universe."

"That sounds like a lot of fun," said the Rodian. "My name's Aige. We'd be glad to have you onboard."

"Great!" Quinlan said. "Should we talk about payment?"

"Oh," Aige said, "There'll be plenty of time for profit later." He put an arm around each of their shoulders and steered them towards his ship.

"I'm turning off the worms," Shmi said, and the line went dead. It was just in time, too; out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Aige tapping at a wrist comm. Activating a scanner.

The worms wouldn't show up on a cursory scan, unlike regular communications equipment. But a deeper one would detect the device whether it was active or not— they had to hope the slavers weren't that well-prepared.

Aige seemed pleased enough with the results.

"Great, boys," he said. "Lucky you— we're taking off in just a few minutes here. We weren't able to pick up as many passengers as we wanted. Good thing you came along."

"Lucky us," Obi-Wan said.

Aige led them up the ramp and through the ship. Obi-Wan and Quinlan tapped their earpieces back on, subtly. Aige kept up friendly chatter as they passed through the ship— several other Controllers saw them and grinned or snickered. The questions Aige asked were hardly subtle; he was making sure they were who they said they were.

But Obi-Wan and Quinlan were good partners, and Obi-Wan could almost always sense what Quinlan's next move was going to be. Overall, they gave the impression of a pair of well-meaning but not very experienced boys, out to see the world. No one to miss them until it was too late, and not enough sense to stay where it was safe.

"Where are we staying for the trip?" Obi-Wan asked.

"We're almost there," Aige said, with a mean smile. Obi-Wan had never seen a Rodian as big as he was— his grip on their shoulders would have been very difficult to get out of, had they wanted to try.

Obi-Wan was not sure why he'd never heard of the Controllers before, but he had a bit of a bad feeling about it. It wasn't that Obi-Wan had been familiar with every criminal syndicate in the galaxy, though it had sometimes felt like it. But it seemed like the Controllers were on the way up, which meant that Obi-Wan should have heard of them— through the Council, through gossip in the marketplace on Tatooine, through his wartime missions.

But he hadn't.

"And here we are."

Quinlan and Obi-Wan looked at the room he was indicating. It could not more clearly have been a cell— little barred window built into the door, keypad lock on the outside, everything.

"Hey," Quinlan said. "That's not—"

Aige pushed them inside. Then they closed the door behind them. "Hey!" Obi-Wan said, knocking on the bars with his hands. The slaver turned to leave, and Obi-Wan pouted. "This is illegal!"

Some people found Obi-Wan creepy, but Quinlan never would.

He had known Obi-Wan almost his whole life, after all, and besides his Master, there was no one in the galaxy that Quinlan trusted more.

Obi-Wan had always been weird, but not this kind of weird— that had all come later, after his prescient abilities had developed.

He was the same Obi-Wan now, the Obi-Wan that had helped Quinlan when his psychometric abilities had really started hitting him, the same Obi-Wan who used to flash with temper at any little injustice he saw.

But he was different too. Settled, but with something burning underneath, like he was more than this little scrawny fifteen-almost-sixteen year-old, watching with amusement as everyone else around him did exactly what he expected them to.

Quinlan loved Obi-Wan a lot. But sometimes, he could admit, he was a little unnerving.

Like now.

They had been taken captive three or so hours ago, and they hadn't heard from the slavers except for when they passed by every so often to bang on the bars of the cage and watch them jump.

Obi-Wan would jump a moment too early; Quinlan a moment too late. Quinlan wasn't scared, and Obi-Wan had probably seen it coming a mile away.

But while Quinlan was itching with boredom— and possibly with other things, since the cell was disgusting; he made a point of keeping his gloves on— Obi-Wan was passing the time quietly meditating, not moving at all except to jump, almost as an afterthought.

Quinlan didn't know anyone else their age who mediated for fun.

Obi-Wan was perfectly still, eyes closed, legs crossed. He barely breathed. He looked dead.

He opened his eyes. "There's something strange going on here," he said.

"Just one thing?" Quinlan asked.

"What is it, Obi-Wan?" Master Jinn asked over their earpieces. They were following along in the ship, staying just out of sight but tracking with the worm things. The plan was to let the slavers take them wherever it was they were going; find the operation there and take it down from the inside and outside all at once.

"They're nervous," Obi-Wan said.

"The prisoners?" Jango Fett asked.

"The guards," Obi-Wan said. "There are other prisoners too— at least ten— and they're scared, but not like this."

"That's concerning," Quinlan, who had only been able to sense a general miasma of misery, pain, and terror, said.

That was another thing Obi-Wan was good at. He always seemed like he knew where everyone was at all times. It was impossible to sneak up on the guy. Quinlan had attempted to replicate this skill, by extending his Force senses out so he could do the same thing. In the end all he'd really accomplished was a screeching headache and a vague sense of paranoia.

"What do slavers have to be scared of?" Master Tholme asked.

"Bigger slavers," Lady Skywalker said, with an air of quiet finality. Quinlan had seen her baby while they were planning for the mission— he wondered why a family with a kid would know so much about slavers, or hate them so much.

"There's only one slavery cartel big enough to be a threat to others," Obi-Wan said, a little worriedly.

"The Hutts," Master Jinn said.

Master Tholme sounded like he was a little further away— at a console with access to his various databanks of intelligence, probably. "There are no known ties between the Controllers and the Hutts."

"Uh-oh," said Obi-Wan and Lady Skywalker at the same time.

"What does that mean?" Quinlan asked.

"It means the Controllers haven't been paying taxes to the Hutts for allowing them to move slaves independently of them," Shmi said. "Which means that they will not be very popular among the Hutt Cartel at the moment."

"Thus the nervousness," Obi-Wan said. "They must have finally caught up."

"Which means it's only a matter of time," Master Tholme said. They hadn't jumped to hyperspace yet, so they had been assuming wherever the Controllers were taking their captives, it was close. Which also meant that if the Hutts were going to try to stop them, that would be soon too. "We're coming to get you."

"Master," Quinlan and Obi-Wan complained.

"He's right," Master Qui-Jinn said. "We were sent to take down a little smuggling operation. We don't have the resources or the authorization at the moment to get into a fight with the Cartel. Not to mention we don't know what will happen if they clash with you two and all the hostages onboard."

"But with two of us, if we stayed—" Obi-Wan started.

"No," Qui-Gon said. "It's too risky."

"We could," Quinlan said.

"We'll be coming to get you and the slaves onboard the vessel. We can revisit the Hutts at a later date," said Master Tholme.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth again to argue, but then shut it again, with a soft huff of frustrated air. "All right," he said.

"We'll intercept you once we catch up," Jango Fett said. "Can you free yourselves and go to Plan B?"

"Can we free ourselves, he asks," Quinlan said, offended.

"That means yes," said Obi-Wan.

"All right, then," said Shmi Skywalker. "We'll see you soon."

Nothing more to say at the moment, the comms went silent, leaving Quinlan and Obi-Wan alone in the cell.

"Are we—?" Quinlan said.

"No," Obi-Wan said, with a sigh. "They're right. We can't take on the entire Hutt Empire just because—" he looked away and folded his arms over his chest. "We're not going rogue on this one."

"Aw, man," Quinlan said.

"However," Obi-Wan said, and Quinlan brightened. "We're not going to let them get away with it. There has to be something to show for all this."

He put a hand up to his ear, where the worm was. As Quinlan watched with a mixture of horror and fascination, he manipulated the Force so it slowly drew the comm out, though the skin at the back of his ear, and into his hand.

"Ew!" Quinlan said.

"They don't come out without the transceiver," Obi-Wan said, amused. He poured more Force energy into the skin where the worm had come out, which was bleeding a little, and slowly the wound closed up, leaving only a small scratch behind.

"They're not supposed to come out without the transceiver!" Lady Skywalker said, this time just into Quinlan's ear. "Did he just take his out!"

"Maay-be," Quinlan said.

"Don't worry about it," Obi-Wan said, towards his unheard audience. "They won't find the bug until it's too late."

"That's not what was concerning us," Master Jinn said.

"Don't tell me," Quinlan said. "Kenobi, you're making me look like the good one for once."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Obi-Wan said, poking at the earpiece. "Can they hear out of this?"

"Yes," Master Jinn said begrudgingly.

"Yep, they hear you," Quinlan said. "Can we get out of here now?"

"After you," Obi-Wan said.

"Let's do 'he's dying'," Quinlan said, beaming.

"'He's dying' is stupid," Obi-Wan said.

"Help!" Quinlan said. "He's dying!"

Sprawled on the floor of the cell with his eyes closed, Obi-Wan held back a grimace.

"I'm serious, someone come!" Quinlan said. "He has a condition!"

An annoyed Force presence appeared at the door. "Shut up, kid."

"I don't think he's breathing!" Quinlan said. "Help him!"

"Why do the stock always die before we can sell them?" asked the person at the door, annoyed. They tapped on the bars loudly, but Obi-Wan didn't twitch. "Fine. Back up against the wall. I'm coming in."

Obi-Wan heard Quinlan's footsteps away, and the slaver's closer. He waited until the last moment, when he could feel the slaver leaning over him, then whipped out with his feet and knocked them off balance. Obi-Wan opened his eyes just in time to see Quinlan leaping forward and pushing the stumbling slaver into the wall.

They hit with a crack, and lay still.

The cell door was open.

"I don't like you, Quinlan Vos," Obi-Wan said, as he sat up and brushed off his pants.

"You love me," Quinlan said. "Let's go."

There was only the one guard on this corridor at least, and no more prisoners. They crept cautiously around the hall. Obi-Wan could feel the other poor souls that had been tricked into coming aboard, scattered throughout the ship so that they couldn't talk to each other.

They had the keycard from the guard currently locked into their former cell, and probably about fifteen minutes until Qui-Gon and the others came for them. Piece of cake.

All the guards they encountered were on alert— but they were looking for a threat from the outside. They were easy enough to take down, either by knocking them out or giving them a Force suggestion to go to sleep. Obi-Wan found someone who looked important and slipped the bug into her pocket.

"Down there," Obi-Wan said, pointing. "Prisoners."

The first cell they came to was housing a Twi'lek woman who flinched up against the wall when she saw them.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said in Ryl. "We're Jedi. We're here to rescue you."

"Jedi?" she repeated.

"Jedi," Quinlan confirmed, and swiped the card to open her door. "Do you want to get out of here?"

She said something in Ryl under her breath— probably, what do you think? and scrambled to her feet as they opened the door.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi and Quinlan Vos," Obi-Wan introduced.

"Saxcha," she said.

"Nice to meet you," Obi-Wan said, trotting on ahead to where he could sense the next round of prisoners. "You're one of the people who got taken on Mandalore, right?"

"That's me," she said, drawing herself up and visibly shaking off her fear. "I like to think I'm usually smarter than this, but they were so convincing and I was trying to get home…"

"Don't worry," Quinlan said. "It happens to a lot more people than you think."

Obi-Wan stopped them before they went around the corner, tilting his head. There. A guard, slimy-feeling in the Force, just around the corner. Obi-Wan jerked a hand, and sent the guard slamming into the wall— or so he assumed, by the thud.

They poked around the corner. There was a human guard groaning dazedly on the floor. Saxcha kicked him, and he lay still.

It was easier after that to find the others, especially with more and more guards in their wake as they quietly cleared out the ship. There were nine of them, of various species. They found the fly scientist from Mandalore as well. Almost all of them were young and healthy, and they all looked frightened.

One of them couldn't have been more than eight. He was lagging behind, trying not to cry. He didn't look anything like Anakin Skywalker— he was a Mon Cala, orange-skinned and gilled— but Obi-Wan couldn't help but think of Anakin anyway.

"Would you like a lift?" Obi-Wan asked, reaching out his hands. The child, with the functional memory of all children, raised his arms up— the universal sign for pick me up. Obi-Wan did.

When Obi-Wan looked over Quinlan was pressing a hand to his heart and making the most obnoxiously soppy face he could. Obi-Wan scowled at him and continued down the hall with his new burden.

"Wait until you get a padawan," Obi-Wan muttered to Quinlan. "She'll have you eating out of the palm of her hand, and you'll regret ever making fun of me."

"Sure," Quinlan said, condescendingly even as the little Mon Calamari fisted his chubby little hands into Obi-Wan's shirt.

"Um, do you have a plan?" asked Saxchi, who had stuck alongside them, and taken one of the guard's blasters. "Or are we somehow just going to escape in the middle of space?"

"Patience," Obi-Wan said.

Above their heads, an alarm began to ring. The hostages, as one, turned to give Quinlan and Obi-Wan a frightened look.

"Not to worry," Quinlan said. "All part of the plan. And here we are."

They were at the docking bay— the place they had agreed upon when making backup plans for this mission.

There were only so many ways you could board a ship that didn't want to be boarded in the middle of space, and only so many ways you could do that without incidentally killing everyone onboard. A docking bay was a good way to do that, especially if you already had people on the inside— people who could authorize access for you.

Unfortunately, slicing into the ship's systems was the easy part. Obi-Wan did that one-handed, still holding the youngling.

"Maybe brace yourselves," Obi-Wan said.

A moment later, the ship rocked, and the sound of screeching metal almost drowned out the alarms. The docking bay doors slid open, looking into the bay of another ship— the one the Jedi had borrowed for this mission. Qui-Gon and Jango were standing there, Qui-Gon's hair whipping with movement, Jango kitted out in his full beskar'gam.

This was a tricky operation.

Ships were, generally, designed to link up with other ships, even mid-space. They could refuel, rendezvous, swap illicit packages back and forth, whatever. But usually the ships had stopped moving by then, and usually both ships had agreed to dock together.

Their allies had had to attach to the side of the slaver's freighter mid-flight, calculating precise angles so they didn't slam into each other and breach both hulls. It had not been exactly smooth. Bits of metal had sheared off the side, and even now the containment field keeping the air into the slaver ship flickered.

The two ships connected, and the air hissed between them as the atmosphere stabilized.

"All right, everybody across," Obi-Wan said. The ship rocked beneath them again— the slavers were shooting back, ship-to-ship. They'd be here in person any moment now.

There was a small gap between the ships, sealed by the automatic pressurization. Obi-Wan and Quinlan helped the others begin to cross it. In one deft leap, Qui-Gon reached their side and patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder.

"You are so in trouble, padawan!" Qui-Gon shouted to be heard over the whipping of atmosphere and the creaking of the ships as they struggled to stay magnetized to each other.

Obi-Wan gave him a crooked grin. "Yes, Master!" Qui-Gon huffed a laugh automatically before he could remember to glare.

"You'd better hurry it up," Jango said, receiving prisoners on the other side. "We've got company."

And again, the ship rocked— from the opposite side. Not Shmi and Tholme in the cockpit, Obi-Wan was guessing. Another ship.

"Kriff," Obi-Wan muttered, and the little Mon Calamari laughed. "I didn't say that," he said. "Come on, across with you."

Qui-Gon stepped across again and reached his arms out to take the youngling. Obi-Wan pried little fingers off his shirt. "It'll be okay, young one," he said. "Go on."

The ship lurched.

The couplings holding the two ships together started to buckle.

"Kriffity kriff!" Obi-Wan said, and had to let go of the child as Qui-Gon stumbled backwards and Obi-Wan had to catch himself lest he fall forward. The crack between the two ships widened, and started to get very cold. That meant the vacuum seal was starting to fail.

Qui-Gon and the kid seemed fine— Qui-Gon had landed on his shebs and probably gotten the wind knocked out of him, but he'd managed to roll and catch himself enough that the youngling probably didn't even feel it.

"Obi-Wan!" Quinlan said, steadying Saxcha, one of still a handful of people on their side. Obi-Wan caught her other elbow. "Sorry about this," Quinlan said, and they tossed her across, fully catching air until Qui-Gon caught her on the other side, still swearing.

They had gotten all over except two when the door into the rest of the ship swished open and someone came out, already firing her laser pistol.

Obi-Wan pulled at her gun with the Force and sent it flying, out past him and, incidentally, out into open space. The bolt struck the ship Qui-Gon was on and loosened another of the magnetic locks keeping the ship together.

There were more Controllers, and none of them seemed happy to see their prisoners getting away.

They all started shooting too, and this time it was Quinlan's turn to swear.

The hostages screamed and ducked as blaster bolts started flying, from both the Controllers and Jango, standing in front of the civilians.

Together Obi-Wan and Quinlan managed to get one more over the gap before the ship gave another almighty lurch and screech. At the same time, the woman who'd lost her gun reached them and tried to push Obi-Wan over the edge.

He recovered, grabbed her jacket, and sent them both in a roll back towards more solid ground. He tried to wriggle out of her grip, but she punched him, and kept hold.

Quinlan still didn't have a weapon, which Obi-Wan guessed because Quinlan hurtled himself bodily at the remaining Controllers, who had been trying to grab Obi-Wan and drag him backwards. Some of the Controllers went tumbling like dominos, and Quinlan kicked the ones who tried to grab him, still half in their arms.

Others were still staying back, shooting at Qui-Gon and Jango and the cowering prisoners, even as Jango started to usher them into the safety of the ship.

There was still one civilian on the platform— the fly scientist. Quinlan and Obi-Wan exchanged looks. Then they nodded, and, pushing out with the Force, sent the last civilian flying over the platform, into Qui-Gon's arms. Qui-Gon had been about to jump over the gap himself.

Obi-Wan headbutted his attacker and struggled to his feet, pulling Quinlan up with him.

Another explosion from the other end of the ship.

Both ships rocked, dangerously, and finally the stress was too much. They came apart.

Obi-Wan tripped, and almost fell over the gap. Quinlan caught him just in time, and pulled him back just as the energy field snapped back into place— firmly establishing the boundaries between this ship and the other once more.

Obi-Wan could see Qui-Gon on the other ship, perfectly fine, grimacing as the two ships got further apart. The containment field separating them was red. Obi-Wan could have laughed.

The remaining Controllers yanked them inside, out of the docking bay, and slid the door shut behind them.

"There's no need to be rough," Obi-Wan said. "Honestly, where are the manners?"

"Don't be so judgemental, Obi-Wan," Quinlan said. "After all, judging by their smell, they haven't showered in a while, much less been in polite company."

"Shut up," the woman said. They had knocked her out earlier— she'd been guarding one of the cells. Now she was holding onto Obi-Wan's shoulder very tightly. "Do you two magic brats know how much money you've cost us?"

The Rodian, Aige, had a hold on Quinlan. "And now is not a good time to be losing profits," he said, shaking Quinlan by the arm. "You two are going to pay for this."

The group of Controllers shoved them into a room.

"Scan them," the woman said. "They must have had something if they called their friends to come rescue them."

Obi-Wan winced and reached out a tendril of the Force to Quinlan. He felt for the worm in his ear, and gently, carefully, crushed it. Quinlan jumped a little, presumably at the pop or at a burst of static, but otherwise didn't betray any surprise, even as the slavers got out a more advanced scanner and ran it over the two of them.

"Nothing," Aige said. "They must have ditched it."

"Stupid kids," the woman said.

Obi-Wan smiled at her.

She scowled and waved a hand, sending some of the Controllers out the door, presumably to deal with whatever other issue they were having at the moment. That left Obi-Wan and Quinlan with a much more manageable number of slavers.

There were escape pods onboard; not enough for all the hostages but they would definitely be enough for two teenage boys.

"You want to let us go," Obi-Wan said.

"What? No I—"

"You want to let us go," Quinlan said.

"Oh," Aige said, blinking. "I—"

"You want to let us go," Obi-Wan said.

"We—" the woman said. Everyone's eyes were glassy. The mind-trick wouldn't last long, not with such a big group of strong-minded people, but if they could get out the door…

A warning, through the Force.

Obi-Wan spun to the doorway just in time to see a Hutt looming there. He should have known by the smell, honestly; a wave of stench hit, swamp-like and forbidding.

It was too late. The Hutt shot a blaster bolt and hit Quinlan in between the shoulderblades as he turned around to look. He went down. But no smell of burned flesh— he was just stunned.

Obi-Wan shoved out with the Force, and knocked the gun out of the Hutt's hand. He bolted for Quinlan, trying to get him up and get his arm around his shoulders— to go where, he didn't know.

The Hutt swung one meaty fist at Obi-Wan's head.

He had just enough time to think oh, this is going to hurt before it connected with his head.

He was right. Obi-Wan hit the floor face-first. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes, and the world spun.

The decking jolted. They were going into hyperdrive— where they couldn't be tracked.

The last thing Obi-Wan saw before he fully passed out was the stun blaster, pointed at him again.

Now that just seemed overkill.

Chapter header from TCW - 3X19 Counterattack

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