The young are often underestimated.

Quinlan woke up in a cage.

Unfortunately, he only figured this out because when he sat up really fast, he hit his head on the bars.

"Banthakarking, Sithspit—" he said, and cut himself off when he heard a little giggle.

He looked across from him. There was a little blue Twi'lek girl in a cage across the aisle. Her cage was the same size as his, but unlike Quinlan, she didn't have to duck her head to fit completely inside. She wasn't wearing a collar, but— Quinlan poked tentatively around his own neck— he was.

"Real funny, kid," Quinlan said, rubbing his bruised head.

She giggled again. She was adorable, in a little-kid way, probably about three years old and definitely too young for a place like this.

"Aaylas'ecura," she said.

"Um, hello to you too?" Quinlan said.

She pouted. "Aaylas'ecura," she said, pointing to herself.

"Oh," Quinlan said. "Your name?"

She nodded excitedly.

"Quinlan Vos," Quinlan said, pointing to his own chest. "Quinlanvos."

She laughed again. "Quinlanvos," she said. "Quinlanvos, friend." She pointed a wiry little arm though the bars.

Quinlan followed her direction towards the cage next to him— "Kriff!" he said, lurching towards the bars. "Obi-Wan!"

Obi-Wan lay still on the other side.

"He live," said the little girl. "They check when put him in."

"Thanks, kid," Quinlan said, pressing his shoulder against the bars and shoving his hand through, stretching out to his full length to shake Obi-Wan's leg. "Hey, wake up, Kenobi. Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan didn't stir, blood matted into his hairline. His ridiculously colorful padawan braid had come loose, and he was sporting the same stylish collar as Quinlan was. A Force-suppressor, guessing by the way the Force felt muffled and unpleasantly out of reach.

Quinlan hesitated before pulling off his glove and putting it on Obi-Wan's ankle. Quinlan made it a point not to try to get in Obi-Wan's head— that way lay madness. But they were both Force-suppressed, and it was worth a little risk.

Quinlan didn't feel any psychometric pull, not even the low-level buzz of a shielded presence that touching Obi-Wan usually gave him. But he could feel a pulse, tapping steadily away in Obi-Wan's ankle. Quinlan breathed a sigh of relief and pulled his glove back on.

"He's lazy," Quinlan told the little girl, letting his heart rate go back to normal. "Still sleeping."

"Lay-see," the girl repeated delightedly.

By the Force. She really was too young to be here. Quinlan leaned against the cold bars, trying and failing to make himself comfortable. "What about you, little one— are you okay? Is there someone coming after you?" She squinted at him, confused. "Parents?" he tried.

Her face fell and she shook her head, and said something in Ryl. Quinlan didn't know what she had said, but he was guessing it wasn't good.

"Sorry," Quinlan said.

He looked around the room— really, the prison. There were about a half-dozen cages bolted into the floor, including the ones Quinlan, Obi-Wan, and Aaylas'ecura were in. The rest of them were empty, which was a relief. They'd gotten the prisoners off the slaver's ship and into the hands of their masters. They'd be safe there.

There was a table bolted into the ground by the entrance, two chairs scattered around it. For bored guards to play cards on, probably. Just the one exit, sealed stubbornly shut. A general smell of unwashed, cooped-up bodies permeated the air. No one else was around, at least so far as Quinlan could tell without the Force. It was uncomfortably like being half blind, the world a little duller and a little bit colder.

Without much hope, Quinlan rattled the bars on his cage. They didn't move.

He sighed.

Quinlan amused himself for the next little while making faces at the little girl, who made them back, her lekku twitching.

Eventually, Obi-Wan stirred.

Quinlan went to the bars separating their cages. "It's about time," he said, forcing a grin. "We were just talking about how you're missing all the fun."

"Wha—?" Obi-Wan said blearily, his hand going to the Force suppressor. "Oh, always with the collars," he muttered, sitting up much more slowly than Quinlan had and thus avoiding the head/cage collision.

"Hiya, Obi-Wan," Quinlan said, relieved.

"Quinlan," Obi-Wan said. "Are you all right?"

"Yup. And I even made a friend," Quinlan said, gesturing at Aaylas'ecura, who looked a little shyer now.

"Oh, hello, Aayla," Obi-Wan said absently, wiping his bloody head off with a sleeve.

"Can't I introduce you to someone once?" Quinlan complained.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan said, not without humor. He looked a little clearer now, surveying the room much as Quinlan had, eyes flickering from the exits to the other cages.

"How!" Aayla said, delighted and surprised at Obi-Wan already knowing her name.

"Jedee," Obi-Wan said, which was not hard to figure out meant Jedi in Ryl.

She gasped, and pointed at Quinlan.

"Yeah, me too, kid," Quinlan said. Her eyes widened, and she looked suitably impressed. "Don't worry, we'll rescue you." She looked less convinced of this.

"Speaking of which," Quinlan said, looking at Obi-Wan, "Any bright ideas, Wonderboy?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth— at that exact moment, Aayla flattened herself against the back of her cage, not touching the bars, and the door slid open, admitting a Hutt and a contingent of bodyguards.

Quinlan almost gagged as the smell reached him, like nothing he'd ever smelled before.

It was a huge Hutt, the same one Quinlan had briefly glimpsed before his little trip into unconsciousness. None of the Controllers were with him, but the bodyguards looked more than capable.

Obi-Wan had folded himself into a meditation position. Quinlan stuck to lounging artfully.

"See, Vos," Obi-Wan said, "I told you they didn't forget about us."

"When you're right, you're right, Kenobi," Quinlan said. "I would have bet anything they were too busy eating bugs or whatever it is that slugs do."

"Funny boys," the Hutt said, in a booming, deep voice. "So funny, little Jedi boys."

He slid his way over to them, leaving a trail of slime. "Do you like the collars? It's lucky I had them lying around just for you. The last Jedi I had as a house guest didn't last long."

"It doesn't go with the outfit," Obi-Wan said.

The Hutt laughed. "I'm your gracious host, Jerga. You two boys cost me a lot of profit."

"Oops, sorry about that," Quinlan said. "Our bad."

"Oh, don't be sorry," the Hutt said, reaching down to grab Quinlan's face behind the bars, almost bruising his chin. This time Quinlan did gag. "You're going to bring me more profits than I could have dreamed of. Two little Jedi… well, that will pay for a hundred more ships."

Quinlan struggled against the surprisingly strong hand and managed to jerk back into the back of the cage.

"You intend to sell us," Obi-Wan said.

"That's what you do with slaves," agreed Jerga. "It's good timing, too. You'll fetch a pretty price at auction. Especially this one— buyers like a little fire." He poked at Obi-Wan, and yanked Obi-Wan's braid until he was forced to come to the front of the cage, or risk having it pulled off. Obi-Wan scowled.

"Pick on someone your own size, you big slug," Quinlan said, spitting mad now.

"No, Quinlan, don't—" Obi-Wan said.

Jerga had produced a remote from somewhere. He pressed the button now, and the world erupted into pain.

Now Quinlan knew why Obi-Wan and Aayla had been staying away from the bars. They were electrified, arcing blue electricity off the metal and into Quinlan. Even as he jerked himself backwards, the floor zapped up and through him.

The electrocution stopped after a while. Quinlan's teeth buzzed.

Obi-Wan was seething at the Hutt. "You can't sell damaged goods," he said, icy-cold, his accent even more proper Coruscanti than ever.

"Ha!" the Hutt said, and slammed an amused hand on Obi-Wan's cage, rattling it. "Very smart. Not like the Controllers. The Controllers are not smart. They try to double-cross Jerga the Hutt. Not very smart. See you later."

He oozed his way back over to the doors, slow and still stinking.

When the Hutt and his retinue were gone, Aayla said something in Ryl, sounding urgent.

"She wants to know if you're all right," Obi-Wan said.

"Just great," Quinlan said, giving the little girl a thumbs up. "Gave me a nice energy boost. They pay a lot for that kind of thing on the Core."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but his lips were pursed with amusement.

"Now what?" Quinlan asked.

"Now, I suppose," Obi-Wan said, "We wait."

"Oh, great," Quinlan said. "Love it."

It was lucky they had taken the ship the Temple had given them, which was a little bigger than Jango Fett's starfighter. As it was, they were cramped.

Shmi and Qui-Gon wound their way through the cargo bay. Qui-Gon was, for the moment, useful for little more than being the pack eopie for the blankets Shmi was handing out to the refugees.

She took one off the stack and gave it to one of the refugees. "I'm sorry," she said. "We don't have time to take you somewhere else. We need to be ready to pick up the boys."

"We understand," said the refugee, a Twi'lek woman. "They saved us. We want to help too." She had drawn the Mon Calamari boy close to her, and a Zabrak woman who couldn't be more than twenty.

They passed out the rest of the blankets and retreated to the cockpit, where Jango and Tholme were frowning over the receiver for the tracking devices. Quinlan's earpiece had gone completely offline shortly after they'd been recaptured, but Obi-Wan's, smuggled away into someone's pocket, was still running.

But they couldn't track it until the other ship came out of hyperspace.

Shmi collected her son from his father, transferring over the sling Jango was wearing— looking incongruous over the armor— and the child at the same time.

"Any luck?" Qui-Gon asked, and Tholme shook his head.

"There are too many Hutt territories nearby— we'll have no idea where they're taking them until they get there," Tholme said grimly. "And even then we'll only know where the tracker is, not where they are."

"Can you feel Quinlan?" Qui-Gon asked, and tried not to feel too selfish at his relief when Tholme shook his head. "They must be Force-suppressed, then."

"Definitely," Tholme said.

They could have gotten the padawans back in the first rout if the Hutts hadn't shown up and started shooting. As it was the risk of letting the hostages fall back into the hands of slavers had been too great, even against Obi-Wan and Quinlan still left behind. The Hutt's ship had been heavily equipped with weaponry, which they had not been shy about using.

The Hutts had come to pick up the Controllers at just the wrong moment.

"I'll call some commandos," Jango said. "They can pick up our strays while we chase after the boys."

"Then all we can do is wait," Qui-Gon said. He sat in one of the console chairs, and brought his legs up under him to meditate.

But he didn't have to wait long before the console beeped, and they all hurried to gather around.

'There it is," Shmi said. She bounced the baby on her hip absently, and Anakin waved a hand through the holographic display. "They've landed. It's a Hutt planet after all. Nar Hekka."

Jango was already punching in the coordinates. "Won't take us long to get there," he said.

Qui-Gon still could not feel Obi-Wan through the Force.

"When we do get there, we're going to need some kind of a plan. Slavers don't mess around," Tholme said.

"I was in favor of aggressive negotiations," Qui-Gon said.

"A subtler approach might be better here, Master Jedi," Shmi said, amused.

Kriff.

Obi-Wan, Quinlan, and Aayla amused themselves fo a while playing three-way telephone— Obi-Wan translating for the other two, interspersed with Aayla's less-than-perfect Basic and Quinlan's attempts at Ryl, as directed by Aayla. She had typically toddler phrases to teach them.

Quinlan had mastered 'shiny', 'pretty kitty', and was horribly mispronouncing 'give me ice cream' by the time they saw anyone else. It was a guard, carrying three trays of food.

He slid them apathetically in front of each cage.

"Thank you!" Obi-Wan called out politely to the guard's retreating back.

The fare was predictably lean, a couple of protein cubes and a cup of stale-tasting water. "So much for damaged goods," Quinlan said, rolling his eyes. He picked up the food with his fingers and started to eat. "If they wanted us fighting fit, they'd actually feed us enough."

"Hutts are not known for their generosity," Obi-Wan said. But he forced the food down too. That was the first rule of the field— eat when you can, because you don't know where the next meal is coming from.

There was a licking noise. They looked across the way, and found Aayla already done eating and licking the plate. Obi-Wan and Quinlan exchanged looks

"I'm full," Quinlan said. "Obi-Wan?"

"Stuffed."

"Aayla?" Quinlan said, gathering the remains of their meals on one plate and turning it sideways so it would fit back through the bars. "Want the rest of ours?"

Aayla gave them a deeply suspicious look.

"It's all right," Quinlan said, with a laugh. "We had a big lunch before we came." He slid the plate across the way. Aayla reached out and caught it, whip-quick, and pulled it through the bars of her cage. She ate it in a flash.

"Arni'soyacho," she said shyly.

"You're very welcome, little one," Obi-Wan said. She tossed the plate back and Quinlan caught it, ensuring that their captors wouldn't know what they'd done.

Obi-Wan sighed. This was not the worst situation he'd been in, but it certainly wasn't the best. Judging by the smell of this place— thick and swampy— they were on a Hutt planet. Those were never pleasant, for living in or for continuing your state of being alive.

They had to wait a couple more hours— during which Quinlan got bored enough to teach Aayla a few rowdy drinking songs definitely not appropriate for younglings— before anyone else came.

It was a pair of Tantel guards, a common mercenary hire for Hutts, one of whom grunted at them. "Hands through the bars," he said.

Obi-Wan and Quinlan complied, and the Tantel wrapped shackles around their wrists, then opened the doors, letting them out very cautiously.

"You too," the other guard said, pointing his blaster at Aayla and unlocking her cage.

"Where are you taking us?" Obi-Wan asked. Surely they weren't being sold already.

"Get moving," the first Tantel said, clearly annoyed at being asked questions. He prodded Obi-Wan in the back with his blaster, and motioned for them to follow the other guard out the door while he took up the flank.

They went. Aayla stuck close to Quinlan's side, quiet and almost unnoticeable. A good skill to have for someone in their position, and, Obi-Wan thought, there was a little more power behind it than just unobtrusiveness.

The building was very utilitarian— Obi-Wan doubted it had been built by the Hutts, who liked to win or buy or steal their lodgings rather than construct them themselves. Out in the hallway it was sticky-hot, air soupy and humid, especially the closer they got to a set of doors that Obi-Wan presumed led outside.

He got a pretty good look at the security along the way. It was tight, especially without the Force or a lightsaber to aid in an escape. Guards, holocams, blast doors that could come down with a touch of a button.

They stepped outside, into what looked like a private viewing box— over a slave arena. Obi-Wan stopped walking on reflex, only to be shoved forward again. He breathed out through his mouth, releasing fear and other emotions into the Force. This was not Zygerria. This was not Kedavo. Or Geonosis. He stepped forward.

This box afforded a good look out into the arena, shaded from the sun. Or not the sun— Obi-Wan looked up and was interested to note that they were in some kind of a biodome, obviously cultivated to be pleasant to Hutts and miserable to everyone else. He wondered what the atmosphere was like outside.

Inside it was almost marshy, with various swamp plants growing up the walls, up to the top of the open-air arena.

There were a couple people in this box. Jerga the Hutt, for a very noticeable one. He had a couple guards with him, and some scantily-dressed people accompanying him who could only be slaves.

One was a Togruta, little more than a girl, who was keeping Jerga misted with a fine spray of water. She gave them a pitying look. Another, a green Dubravan man, was dancing idly off to the side. A protocol droid was holding a tray of drinks.

Jerga laughed when he saw them. "Little Jeedai," he said. "You have come just in time." Though most Hutts Obi-Wan had met preferred to almost solely speak in Huttese, Jerga seemed to have more modern sensibilities than the rest. He reached up and pulled down a hovering droid, speaking into it. "Bring out the slaves!" he boomed across the arena, amplified by some mechanism in the droid.

A door opened on the bottom level and spat out a collection of prisoners, wearing a familiar uniform. The Controllers.

They stumbled out, looking the worse for wear and surrounded by more guards who held blasters or electro-whips.

"Start the bidding!" Jerga boomed.

This explained why Obi-Wan had never heard of the Controllers in his past life. The Hutts were not kind to their business competitors. As of now, the Controllers had been effectively wiped off the map. When the Hutts went for revenge, they got it. Despite himself, Obi-Wan felt sorry for them.

The Controllers were not prime targets for slavery, but that wasn't really the purpose of this. Making a point was. They would probably be used for manual labor on some distant mine, or sweat away the days in workshops.

A guard flicked an electrowhip at one of the Controllers, and Obi-Wan winced.

"Don't look," Quinlan told Aayla quietly, drawing her into his side and turning her away from the scene below.

Bids came up on a screen projected over the arena— overlaid on top of video footage of the scowling prisoners, taken by camera droids. There were other boxes like this one scattered all around the arena, but from here, Obi-Wan couldn't see who was in there. They must not have been on a planet with a native population, or at least not one that supported slavery, because Obi-Wan couldn't hear the usual bloodthirsty roar of people there just to watch.

The group was sold. Jerga made a pleased noise and pulled down the droid once more, pressing a button and typing into a keyboard inside— transferring the slaves to their new owners.

They ushered the slaves out of the arena as quickly as they'd come.

"Don't worry, Jeedai," Jerga said. "You won't be sold today. Big prizes like you need to go on the market first."

He barked an order at the Tantel guards in Huttese, and they once again pushed and prodded Quinlan, Obi-Wan, and Aayla until they went where they wanted them to go. In this case it was a platform off the edge of the box, which went down and lowered them into the arena.

It was much brighter out here, and Obi-Wan had to blink a few times before his eyes adjusted enough to take another look around.

They were in the bottom part of the arena, almost totally flat except for a raised platform in the center, probably where slaves were displayed on the real auction days. Various suspicious stains dotted the dusty ground.

Up above were bleachers for a crowd, all empty, and more private boxes like the one they'd just left. From here Obi-Wan could see into them. They were full of Hutts.

A lot of Hutts, more than Obi-Wan had ever seen in one location at one time. They were crammed into their separate boxes, having brought their own retinues and guards and pleasure slaves.

Obi-Wan tilted his head, watching them.

More camera droids buzzed around their heads. Aayla pressed closer to Quinlan.

"Fine specimens!" Jerga boomed over the speakers. "Two little Jeedai, ripe for the taking! Young! Healthy! Tell your friends! The bidding will start at one million credits each!"

There was a buzz of interest from the stands. Quinlan scowled.

"And the little Twi'lek girl too," Jerga added, almost as an afterthought. "Five thousand for her."

Well, at the very least, it was nice to feel wanted.

Quinlan didn't untense until they were brought back to the cages— home sweet home— and he was sure no one was going to be buying them today. Horror stories had been told in the Temple creches since the beginning of time about what happened to young Force sensitives who were caught out away from their Masters.

Or maybe they just told those stories to Quinlan to stop him from sneaking out and causing so much trouble.

Two more meals came— not, Quinlan thought, necessarily at mealtimes, especially judging by how hungry Quinlan was at each one.

"My name is Quinlan," Quinlan said in Ryl, pronunciation intentionally a little bit off so that Aayla would laugh. She did, hiding it behind a hand.

"My name is Quinlan," she corrected.

"No, I'm Quinlan," he said, and she laughed again. Obi-Wan let out an amused huff too.

"Silly," Aayla said. Quinlan had the feeling that when they got out of this, Aayla was going to come out having learned more Basic than Quinlan had Ryl. Hopefully they could just get her back to her family, but considering neither she nor Obi-Wan ever mentioned them, it might be a lost cause.

Eventually Aayla got bored and curled up to go to sleep.

Quinlan and Obi-Wan gathered close to the edges of their own cages to talk. "Don't you think it's strange how many Hutts there were?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not really," Quinlan said. "But then I don't know much about Hutts in general."

"They're gathered here for something special," Obi-Wan said.

"Us?" Quinlan asked, but even as he said it he knew it wasn't right. "Well, they couldn't get here this fast. So something else then." It was frustrating not having the Force to guide him, to supplement his own instincts.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "Only I don't know what."

"There must be other slaves on this planet," Quinlan said. "Or else they would have taken us somewhere else— they only would have wanted to come here if it was already convenient for them."

"We're not going to figure it out from in here," Obi-Wan said sullenly, tugging at the collar around his neck.

"I'm with you," Quinlan said. "I'm all in for escaping this place as soon as possible. But, you know… how?"

Obi-Wan blinked at him, before seemingly realizing this was not a hypothetical question. "My capacities of seeing the future are greatly reduced," he said.

"In other words, you don't know."

"In other words, I don't know," Obi-Wan confirmed with a sigh. "But I do know this— it starts with taking these kriffing collars off."

"Bright ideas?"

"Trust in the will of the Force, young padawan," Obi-Wan said. Quinlan snorted.

Aayla bounced back to consciousness, drawing again away from the front of the bars, just as they heard the doors open once more and people come through them.

It was the same Tantel guards from before, the guys with the tusk-y helmets, but this time one of them had his off, and was holding it at his side. It was a human man, and it looked like he had recently run a comb through his thinning hair— trying to impress whoever the guest was. The other guard took up post, almost nervously, at the door.

Their guest was another human with slick black hair and a rounded scar under one eye. He looked vaguely familiar.

Quinlan looked at Obi-Wan, just in time to see him quashing a smile.

"That's them," said the Tantel, standing up as straight as he could, trying to look impressive.

"Hmm," said the newcomer. His clothes were obviously expensive and spotless. Definitely not a Jedi. "They don't look like much, do they?"

The Tantel shrugged. "They say they put up a pretty good fight when they brought them in."

"Indeed," the newcomer said, and crouched down so he was at the level of the cages; specifically, in front of Obi-Wan's. "They're damaged."

"Not much," the Tantel protested. "Too valuable to let die."

"Of course," said the other man with a polite but somehow cutting smile. He eyed Quinlan, then Obi-Wan closely. "I've never met a Jedi before."

"Maybe they've been avoiding you," Obi-Wan suggested sweetly. "After all, with looks like that, you could scare off a gundark."

The man reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed hold of the front of Obi-Wan's tunics. He dragged Obi-Wan up to the front of the cage so they were face-to-face.

"Brat," the man growled.

"Can you find out who has the keys to our collars?" Obi-Wan said softly, apparently unbothered by this. It was quiet enough that Quinlan could barely hear it and there was no way the guard did— definitely the point.

The man dropped him again and stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his pants. "Thank you for allowing me in to see them early," he said, and dropped a few credits into the Tantel's hand. "I may end up watching the auction after all. This was certainly interesting."

"Our pleasure, sir!" the Tantel said, practically drooling over the coin. "Anything for such a distinguished gentleman as yourself."

"Mm-hmm," the man said. "By the way, if I buy them, I don't have to keep the collars, do I?"

"Well, no," he said. "But it's recommended. Like I said, these little Jedi can put up a hell of a fight—"

"Can they be removed or not?"

"Oh, yes sir!" the Tantel nodded eagerly. "In fact, Jerga has trusted me personally with the key. It would transfer ownership to you, of course, after the auction."

"Very interesting," the man said, but he didn't look like he thought it was interesting. He looked bored. "I'm done here."

The two guards rushed to walk him out, probably partially to impress him and partially because they took a bribe to let him back early and didn't want to get caught.

Quinlan waited for them to leave, then raised an eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Obi-Wan said. "Aayla, darling, how would you feel about helping us out?"

Chapter header from TCW - 5X07 A Test Of Strength

Ryl translations:
Arni'soyacho - thank you very much

Huttese translations:
Jeedai - Jedi

Thank you for reading! 3