Chapter Sixteen

A vortex of white and black, ghostly images of vague shadows of light and dark passed through her vision, stripes of red occasionally criss-crossing the dark, screams echoing about her. Masculine screams that soon transformed into the high-pitched ones of a female, until they became recognizable. Until they became her own.

Padmé bolted upright in her bed, meeting the comforting and worried face of her handmaiden, Sabé.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream."

A palace security guard had also barged into the room, who was quickly excused by the handmaiden who sat upon the bed, brushing back the queen's long, damp curls from a perspiring face.

"Yes." Padmé muttered, still disoriented from the horrific nightmare she had experienced, trying to examine its meaning and erase its existence at the same time.

But she couldn't rid herself of the feeling that something bad was happening, and that Obi-Wan was in terrible danger.

Qui-Gon was awakened by an incessant chiming of his comm and rolled over drowsily to pluck it from the nightstand next to his bed.

"Jinn here."

"Excuse me, Master Jinn." The young voice of the evening communications Padawan stated nervously. "You've received another call from the Bothan Sector, from a young woman named Padmé. I took a message the first time, but she's insisting on speaking with you."

"Of course, patch her through." Qui-Gon came fully awake and grabbed his robe on the way into the common room, eyeing across the shadowy space to the open bedroom on the other side. A bedroom that still housed everything that a thirteen-year-old Padawan would need. He could've sworn he closed that door.

"Queen Amidala? Is everything all right?"

"Qui-Gon." The young woman said as her voice and image came into focus on the datascreen, and the Jedi Master's brow rose on hearing the informality of her greeting. However, it was obvious she was upset and so he ignored the implications and focused upon the reason for her call.

"I've had a rather disturbing dream. I'm afraid that's something's wrong with Obi-Wan. Have you checked on him lately?"

"Yes and no." His reply didn't seem to ease her worries, only proving to cause her confusion, and so he hurried to explain. "I went to the see him, but Senator Palpatine thought my presence would be too upsetting. He promised me Obi-Wan was doing fine, and I have no reason to think otherwise."

"Well, I do."

"Your highness, you cannot put much value on dreams. For non-sensitives, they are merely the results of an overactive imagination playing out through your subconscious, or even possibly due to something you've eaten recently. Have you…"

"You're wrong!" The young woman's voice reverberated about his apartment. Her admonishment was strong and clear, her gaze determined, but her features carried the depth of her concern and could not be denied. "Qui-Gon, there was more to it than that. I'm frightened for him. Promise me you'll go check on him. Go see Obi-Wan with your own eyes."

He would not go through the senator this time for this visit, Qui-Gon decided. He had the feeling that there possibly may be other reasons the man didn't want him to see Obi-Wan, although he couldn't fathom why. True, he seemed to upset his old Padawan, and for good reasons, but he only needed to look at him to make sure he was doing well. If not only to ease Padmé Amidala's concerns, but his own mind as well. She wasn't the only one who had worried about him.

It had only been two days since their return to the Coruscant, but this was Qui-Gon's second visit. Maybe there was something to Padmé's dream. There may possibly be some other reason that the Jedi Master kept returning to this place, although he wasn't one to rely upon implications of emotions concerning the future. It was better to put one's focus on the here and now, and now, he was more concerned with dealing with the plump secretary who sat outside of Palpatine's offices.

Qui-Gon forced a grin upon his face as he bid her a good morning, but received a scowl in return. He had never had much of a way with females, while his Padawan, on the other hand, even at such a tender young age, would have been able to charm the wig off her head..

"I would like to know where Obi-Wan Kenobi is being kept." He requested politely.

"I'm afraid that's classified information." The portly receptionist responded and Qui-Gon was beginning to believe she must be part Hutt.

"Listen." Perhaps intimidation would work better, he decided, leaning over her desk, his voice lowering in tone and volume. "I'm a Jedi Master, and I used to be his Master, and I would like to know where he is. Now."

"I don't care if you're the King of Correllia. That information is classified. Understand? Class-i-fied."

Most definitely, Hutt.

"Is there a problem?"

Qui-Gon rose back up to his full height, swallowing his annoyance and turning to meet the Naboo senator.

"I would like to see Obi-Wan."

"Master Jinn, I assured you once before that he is doing quite well."

Not good enough. "I'm afraid I must insist on seeing him with my own eyes."

Force suggestion? Qui-Gon momentarily entertained the thought, though he doubted he could get away with it. The senator seemed like an intelligent man. His secretary on the other hand….

"Very well. Follow me."

To his surprise, Qui-Gon was led into the lift and down to the lower levels of the senate building, where they passed through a transport tunnel that led directly into the security station across the street.

"He sleeps a lot, as is to be expected. The poor boy's been through quite an ordeal, but I assure you he is receiving the best of care. I have had my own personal physician examine him and treat his wounds. I'm afraid someone had abused him quite badly, and he has a lot of recovering to do, both physically and mentally."

During Palpatine's explanation, the two of them passed through a secured entrance, the senator scanning his own badge through two different keyed doorways, until turning down a long, brightly lit white corridor and stopping before a solid, white door.

Or what had appeared solid. With the passing of the senator's hand over a digital pad, the door transformed into a live one-way monitoring screen, through which Qui-Gon could see a comfortable living space with a sofa, table and chairs, a separate closed-off bathing facility, and a cushioned bed, upon which was huddled a dark, blanketed form.

"As you can see, Master Jinn, Obi-Wan has been provided every comfort necessary and is given regular meals, although he tends to not eat very well, but that will improve with time, as will his need for a regular sleep cycle. The physician has been adjusting his psychotropic medications, and I'm afraid he's a bit drowsy off and on throughout the day, as you can see."

Palpatine then leaned over to activate the comm pad outside the door.

"Obi-Wan, can you hear me? This is Senator Palpatine."

A grumble issued from the bed as the Obi-Wan rolled over a bit, pulling the covers up higher over his head.

"I'm sorry, it seems he's a bit groggy today. Perhaps you can come back another time when he's more focused."

Qui-Gon felt a hand upon his back and the pressure to move away from the door, noting the transparency turning back to a solid color as they left, but he could not shake the feeling of uneasiness, not only about the cold hand that was pressed against his back, but about the entire situation, and Obi-Wan's state.

The Jedi Master soon shook off his worry though, unable to confirm his suspicions through the Force, thanked the senator for his time, and made his way back home where he would contact Padmé and inform her that Obi-Wan was doing as well as could be expected.

However, back down in the holding area of the Galactic City Security Station, the figure on the bed rolled over to face the door, and if it had done so while the Jedi Master had been standing there, Qui-Gon would have seen that what he had assumed was his former Padawan, was not his Padawan at all. In fact, the form huddled under the blankets was not even human, but droid.