A boot collides into my back, hurdling me down onto my stomach. A hand clamps over the back of my head and grinds my cheek onto the cold, icy concrete. Siri is violently forced down into the same position a few feet from me, and we stare at each other unable to say a word. I feel more hands roughly pull my arms behind my back and ignite a pair of laser cuffs onto my wrists, singeing the skin. I watch as other guards roughly frisk Siri, take her lightsaber, and cuff her as well. Through the cacophony of cries, jeers, and jostling bodies, I just stare into Siri's wide, frozen eyes. A pool of Rowan's blood slowly creeps over the ground between us.
"Let go of me!" I hear Quinlan protest. "You can't do this! Let us go!"
I can't seem to say a word or move. I just watch the viscous flow of blood; watch it slowly soak into the snow, a contrast of bright white and brilliant crimson. All sounds are muffled and distant. All I can hear is the barely audible screams and cries of anguish.
A pair of boots suddenly appear at my face, and a man crouches down. It's the doctor. I look up at him with relief, but he doesn't meet my gaze; instead he pulls aside my collar and I feel a sting and a warm flush of fluid into my neck. By the time I let out a gasp, he pulls the needle out, wheals around and walks toward Siri.
I can't see her past the doctor, but I hear the panic in her voice. "What is that?" Her legs begin to kick and the guards shove her limbs harder into the ground. She lets out a small whimper, and without a word the doctor quickly gets up and proceeds to Quinlan.
A terrifying silence engulfs me; the world loses all depth and clarity. I feel naked, utterly helpless. I have such a vulnerable sensation and I strain to look around me in a complete paranoid panic.
The 'cure'. The Force inhibiter drug. I shudder, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
Hands clamp around my arms and lift me painfully into the air, shoving me forward. Everything suddenly goes black as a bag is pulled over my head. I can't help but stumble as I'm forced forward, soon being made to step up into what feels like the back of a vehicle and roughly shoved onto a hard, metal seat. When Siri and Quinlan are loaded up as well, the doors slam shut and we begin to move. I shake my head until the sack is thrown off, and I can see the others have done the same. A trickle of blood flows from Siri's nose and I want to scream.
"As soon as those doors open, we need to make a break for it," she says.
"We can try," Quinlan sounds defeated. "Don't forget we're unarmed and they have blasters. It's probably not worth it at this stage. We still don't even know what's going to happen. Maybe we'll just sit in a cell overnight and be released."
"Doubtful." I whisper. "The others weren't so lucky."
"Then this is our chance to find them." Siri says. "We'll finally find out where they are and what happened to them."
"And what's going to happen to us!" Quinlan adds with mock excitement, earning a kick to the shin from Siri.
Through my trembling, I force a weak smile. Just breathe, Obi. Keep breathing and everything's going to be okay. Siri glances over at me, her blue eyes wide with worry, but thankfully she doesn't say anything. They both must have heard it. "Mr. Kenobi." They both saw him force push, Quinlan getting the brunt of it. They both saw him wield that crude lightsaber. But none of us dare to bring it up. They just let me quietly hyperventilate while they mercifully just sit staring at the floor.
A flash of Anakin's tearful face invades my mind. I'm abandoning him without warning yet again. Can he forgive me this time? If I don't make it, our last words to one another were bitter and hurtful. I remember how he was able to keep our bond the last time, and I close my eyes, chanting apologies through the Force in the hopes he can hear me. But I get no answer. It's nothing but static, the line has gone dead. I shiver again in fear and wonder if this is how afraid everyone is all the time, which brings a heavy sadness deep in my chest.
The truck comes to a halt and we have to communicate through wordless looks alone. There's no room to stand, but we poise ourselves for a fight. As soon as the doors fly open, a small canister is tossed in, and it clatters to a halt between us. Before I register what it is, it spews out a thick gas that sends us into convulsing coughs and burns my eyes shut. Masked figures poor into the truck and shove the bags back over our heads. I throw a few kicks, but hit nothing but air. Hands grab hold of my arms and pull me out so hard I trip and stumble onto my knees, only to be pulled back up and marched forward into the dark void. I feel as though any second I'll step over the edge of the planet and fall into endless space.
"Here we go again, guys! Hang in there, we'll see each other again in no time!" I yell as loudly as I can, but my voice waivers and cracks. This earns a blow to the gut with the butt of a blaster.
I hear no response, and feel the air change and the sound of a door sealed closed behind me. Soon I'm brought into a room, shoved onto a seat and the bag is pulled off of my head again. My already burning eyes squint in the onslaught of light. There's a metal table in front of me and an empty chair on the other side. As guards shuffle in and out of the room, blasters held low, sharing a few inaudible words between them, I just watch their movements and try desperately to control my shivering. My jaw clenches so tightly I feel like my teeth will shatter. A man in simple tunics suddenly enters the room, trailed by the doctor from the rally. I scan the man's face, searching for signs of familiarity, but I've never seen him before.
Without looking at me, he begins to read from the papers on his clipboard. "Sir, you are being placed under arrest by order of Representative Adelare of Stewjon for charges of assault and espionage-"
"Can I contest these charges?" I squeak.
He just continues, and doesn't look at me. "These are Class IV felony charges, of which you have been found guilty, and your sentence was handed down at 08:40 on the morning of the 18th day of the waning moon stage-"
"Where are our comrades? Where are you holding them?"
"-you have been sentenced to medical experimentation. The benefit to the community resulting from your sentence has been deemed proportionate to the harm caused by your crime. Should you survive, you will be accepted back into the community and your sacrifice will be lauded by all."
I'm stuck on a loop. I just stare ahead, face frozen, quietly repeating, "where are my friends? I need to find them." My gut collapses in, goes completely numb. The numbness spreads to the rest of my body and takes hold until I can't move or scream or try to run away. Like I'm stuck in a dream where I'm trying run through sludge from an impending doom and it catches me.
I don't move as guards close in around me, and the doctor steps forward with a syringe. The guards take hold of my arms and I put up a pathetic fight. He doesn't even look me in the eyes as he sticks the needle into my neck again. The man with the clipboard scratches a few signatures onto the pages, then wheels out the door without another word, trailed by the guards. The doctor finally pauses and meets my gaze, just staring with the strangest look for several moments. I open my mouth to speak but he suddenly reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder.
"I know he was your father." He whispers to me.
I stare at him wide eyed.
"Don't worry, no one else knows. You look as though you could have fit right into the Kenobi clan. And you're a Jedi. It all fits. You're what sparked this movement, when they kidnapped you as a babe."
"Kidnapped?"
"They came in the night. They took you. Your mother died trying to fight them away. The cowards just ran off this planet and they never saw you again. You were so little."
I feel my cheeks getting wet and realize I'm crying. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
He tilts his head and squeezes my shoulder, "I know, child."
"Why can't I leave?"
"It's too late, it's already done. You're a Jedi now. You're a Capitol elite, no longer a Stewjoni." He glares into empty space beyond me and lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."
As he turns to leave, I almost want to reach out and grab hold of his jacket, begging him to stay. My trembling becomes uncontrollable as he disappears out the door, and I begin to hyperventilate as new guards flood in the room and close in around me. One of them closes the door and the others force me to my feet. An older man approaches and suddenly throws a fist. I can't lift my arms to block, so I just duck my head. Not good enough – I feel the impact and am thrown down onto the table. Hands hold me down onto the table and grab hold of my legs.
Someone comes forward with a pair of scissors and begins to tear my shirt open and I let out a scream of outrage, "Stop! What are you doing?"
As cloth is torn away and my skin is exposed to the freezing air, I kick and struggle as hard as I can in total futility. I just focus on trying not to look at anyone, and try desperately to not let the tears flow as I lay trembling on the cold, metal table, feeling clothes being forcefully ripped off me. Qui-Gon always told me my excessive modesty was bound to be my downfall one day, my Achilles heel. I clench my shaking fists and bite my lip so hard I taste blood. When I'm down to my underwear, they lift me into a standing position again and undo the laser cuffs, still gripping my arms securely. I feel like I'm collapsing into myself, trying to look as small as possible. I struggle to fake a stoic face, but I'm trembling.
A younger man steps forward with thin, grey clothing and I thank the Force. I don't fight as they roughly shove the scratchy, threadbare shirt over my head, guiding my arms into the sleeves and legs into the pants. I let out a sigh of utter relief, but still feel the chill in the air through the thin fabric. I still feel the waves of humiliation rush over me, even though I was probably uncovered for only a few seconds. Some Jedi Knight, you are. How pathetic.
I'm pushed forward and walked out of the room, down a bleak, white hallway. "…should you survive…" There's a chance I'll make it out of here. They don't intend to kill me. If I never give up, and take any opportunity to escape, I may just make it through this. I'll find the others, and break them free too. I scan the walls of the hallway, searching for signs of other cells, places where the others may be held. It's okay, we'll make it out of here.
We reach the end of the hall, a guard steps forward and opens a door. A very bright, white room, and figures moving, unnoticing of us, absorbed in work. They're readying something. They're centered around a table. With straps on it and medical equipment positioned all around. They're in white jackets with caps and face masks. They're holding syringes, picks, scalpels. And I'm being brought to the table. I let out a gasp and try to grind my feet into the floor. They tug on my arms even harder, and one of them starts to reach down to my legs.
"No!" I can't help but scream.
One of the doctor's narrowed, fiery eyes dart up. "Get him on the goddam table!"
A guard lunges down and wraps his arms around my legs, lifting them up. I start to kick and flail my legs free, getting him in the face in the process. He staggers backwards into a metal table, knocking the tools to the floor in a loud clatter. Some of the doctors and nurses drop what they're doing and start to come toward me.
I get my feet back on the floor and plant them hard, wriggling an arm free, excitement and panic erupting in my belly. I elbow the other guard in the chest and stomach until I'm able to slip out of his grasp. I make a dash for the door, dodging another set of hands that lunge toward me, and grab ahold of the knob, gasping for breath. I feel a set of vices wrap around my waist and hoist me up in the air. The breath is forced out of my lungs. Suddenly the door is getting further away from my outstretched hands.
"Let go of me! You can't do this!" I scream again, kicking like a child.
One lucky blow gets him right in the groin and I'm dropped to the floor. Without venturing a glance behind me, I jump to my feet and dive forward again. I manage to get the door open and stagger out into the hall, dazed. I pick a random direction and sprint, the hall spinning around me as though gravity has been lost. The white walls and fluorescents flash by in a blur and I don't know where I am anymore, or remember how we got here. I start to panic again. I hear the slapping of shoes on the tile behind me, and yelling. Shit.
I spot an open door and lunge inside, slamming it closed behind me. I flick the lock and start searching for anything to stack up against the door. Boxes, tables, a large metal cabinet that screeches along the tiles when I drag it across the room. Before long there's banging and yelling coming from the other side.
It's so loud I can't control my trembling, so I back away to the center of the room. A weapon. Find a weapon. I have to wipe the sweat out of my eyes as I scan the room. Concentrate. A box cutter, left on top of one of the boxes! It's small, but it will do. I grab it and extend the blade as far as it will go- only a couple of inches. That's fine. I stand with the knife at the ready and stare down the barricade, breathing, waiting. I feel robbed of my senses; going into the fray blind and deaf. There's a good chance I won't make it out of here.
Suddenly the room rattles in a massive boom. I turn away from the flash, swallowed by the reverberations. I look back at the door and see silhouettes pour into the room toward me through the thick wall of smoke. There's shouting. I hold the knife up and get ready to fight.
Pain erupts on my left eyebrow and I let out a stunned yelp. The force whirls me around onto my knees. Only now do my ears catch up; the crack of a baton. I try to regain control but blood pours into my eyes, and I can't see anything. A steal toe boot collides with my nose and I'm thrown backward, coughing up blood. My vision goes black and I feel hands all over me again. Come on, come on! Fight! I get some sight back, and I see I'm back in the hallway again, practically being dragged.
Come on, whatever you have left, use it. Don't give up yet! I struggle to get my feet back under me. I kick, wrench, pull. They grab ahold of legs, lift me into the air and carry me back toward the OR like a ragdoll. I make a last-ditch grab for the doorframe and pull like hell.
"What the fuck is taking so long, get him on this table now!" I hear a bellow behind me.
One of the guards takes out his baton again and slams it against my fingers repeatedly until I can't take it anymore and let go. They get me near the table, the nurses holding open the leather straps.
I lock eyes with the doctor. "You can't do this. Don't do this." The words barely escape on frantic gasps for breath.
He just stands there, eyes cold above an obscured, masked face. The guards slam me down into the table. The hard plastic is cold and I attempt to push away, but they lift me into the air again, slamming me back down into it.
"No!" I scream as hands clasp down on every limb, holding them into place no matter how hard I jerk and kick.
I feel the leather straps wrap around all over my arms and legs. They clamp down on my chest and hips. I feel the tight pinch and loss of circulation as each strap is synched down tight. The white coats close in around me. Metal stands and tables are wheeled in, the shiny tools glinting in the bright lights. My sleeves are tugged up and a needle pierces into each arm. Probes and temperature readers affixed all over my skin. Machines click on, whirring to life, beeping and clicking in rhythm. A huge light is positioned right above me, so painfully bright I have to turn my head away. But hands wrap around either side of my face and force it straight on again. They hold on tight as duct tape is pulled over my mouth and wraps around and around, wrapping my head and the table together. I can't even get in one last scream. My nose is till swollen and full of blood and I can barely get in air. I think I'll die of suffocation before these people kill me.
I start to whimper uncontrollably, but the sound is so distant and muffled under the layers of tape and that it frightens me even more. I can't do this. Any desire to put up a stoic front, to not let them think they've gotten to me, has completely gone. I close my eyes and feel tears begin to flood.
My shirt is lifted up. A cold liquid painted onto my stomach makes me twitch in shock. Iodine. I can smell it. I'm assaulted by the stench of chemicals. I open my eyes in time to catch the glint of a scalpel. The cold metal touches. It's okay, it's going to be okay. I can get through this. Pressure. Then it penetrates, fast. The pain explodes from my stomach all throughout my body like a lightning bolt. I scream, but I can barely hear myself. I pull at each restraint as hard as I possibly can.
"Synch those tight!" The doctor barks.
I feel the leather straps ratcheted even tighter and I'm paralyzed. The knife slices, moving down my skin slowly. Hot liquid pours onto the skin; I hear it drip to the floor. My brain is wild with pain, flashing and pulsing and slipping me away into insanity. I can't scream or kick or pull enough, nothing I do takes the agony away, I can't take this. The cold knife goes away, but now I feel his gloved hands inside, and something foreign and cold. A new pain like I've never felt before, like I've never imagined, and I'm slipping away.
A serene voice is at my ear, so out of place, like a hallucination. "This all could have been avoided." I open my eyes and see the familiar flash of blond and silk robes. The look of utter disappointment. The same dead eyes. "If only you just cooperated, stopped trying to poke around where you had no business. If you just listed to our warning and left this planet. You left us no choice."
I want to glare at her, to tear free and tackle her to the ground. But I just stare, unable to make a sound, and she smiles. The senator looks up at the doctors, then smirks back at me. "They're putting the bomb in you. Now you won't be able leave. I warned you."