Hello! Next installment all ready! By the way- I went back and amended the last bit of the pervious chapter- changing a few tiny details to make it fit better with this chapter. Whilst writing it- I checked over chap 7 and decided to crank up the pain factor for poor Obi. Bad me. But it'll all work out in the end- I promise you!

Thanks to everyone who has read/alerted/favourited/reviewed this story so far :) love to you all!

Disclaimer: No owning of any of the Star Wars universe sadly :(

Enjoy!

Chapter 8- Bridging Broken Bonds

(Qui-Gon- Imperial Palace Banquet)

Qui-Gon sat down with Advisor Klone on his right. For some reason, the Jedi Master wasn't hungry as the lavish banquet was laid out by servants and the guests and politicians leant forward in eager anticipation to sample the delicacies. In actual fact Qui-Gon was well aware of the reason to why he was eating very little. He couldn't help feeling this was all a big waste of time: time that could be spent looking for Obi-Wan. This distracting banquet was clouding his senses, with all the decadence and finery being thrown his way. The officials were all magnificently dressed in fine robes, their slender bodies wrapped in fine silks and gossamers. Qui-Gon's standard Jedi issue clothing looked drab in comparison.

To be polite, Qui-Gon took a few small pieces to place on his plate, whilst the others tucked in around him. The elusive First Minister had made an appearance, sitting on the other side of Klone at the head of the table, busy talking to some dignitary to his other side.

The banquet was being held in the large grand dining hall, with a soaring ceiling, held up by enormous marble columns. The long table was dwarfed by the size of the room and Qui-Gon felt exposed. Something was niggling at the back of his mind, something foreboding.

Klone must have picked up on the Jedi Master's solemn frame of mind. "Master Jinn- are you unwell? You have hardly touched the food," the Chief Advisor observed, swallowing a tasty morsel. He snapped his fingers and a servant materialised behind him, bearing a tray. "You must try these- they are divine!"

Reservedly, Qui-Gon refused, instead looking up at the balcony which ran around the perimeter of the rectangular room a floor level up, overlooking the banquet, where guards were patrolling. The security had been stepped up- Raidon had informed Qui-Gon of his plans. With so many officials- it was likely that the rebels would attempt something. Raidon was confident he and his men were ready for anything.

However, Qui-Gon had not yet told Raidon of the evidence he and Viza had uncovered. He had meditated on the discovery but found enlightenment on the matter difficult. So, reigning in his impatience, Qui-Gon decided to wait and watch for solid, incriminating proof.

Without warning, a sharp flare of pain burst through Qui-Gon's consciousness, forcing an explosive gasp from his lungs at its intensity. Out of habit and well trained reflexes, the Master threw up a barrage of mental shields as the pain ripped through his mind. Struggling to contain the surprising outburst, he noted distractedly he was being watched by several alarmed politicians seated around him. Waving away their concerns, Qui-Gon fought for breath, controlling himself once again, at least on the outside.

Where had that pain suddenly come from? Using the Force to check his own body and mind, the Master found himself unharmed- he was in no danger- thinking at first he was under some sort of mental attack. But it was not so- he had not been attacked. It was not his pain.

Obi-Wan…

Obi-Wan was in pain. The thought nearly forced the Jedi Master to jump from his seat- protocol aside- and find the boy. His Padawan was hurt- he could feel it through the bond. For that brief instance, Qui-Gon had felt a wall of pain flood along the bond he and Obi-Wan shared. From not even feeling their mental connection for days now- to suddenly feel it burst to life and in such agony- it made Qui-Gon feel ill. He had to find him. But at last this was tangible proof Obi-Wan was alive.

"Master Jinn- you look ill," the First Minister glanced at Qui-Gon, whose face had gone remarkably pale.

"I'm quite well," Qui-Gon assured him. "But I'm afraid I must beg your pardon and leave-"

"Nonsense- the main course hasn't even arrived," Klone frowned. "I insist you stay just a bit longer Master Jinn. Advisor Wei wanted to discuss the hyperspace trading lanes with you." Indeed, Advisor Wei looked quite eager to discuss the subject Qui-Gon noted as the man leant forward to engage him in conversation.

Sending as much comfort and healing along the bond as he could, Qui-Gon gritted his teeth in frustration at being metaphorically chained to the room. He needed to leave- wanted to leave to find Obi-Wan, assure himself that the boy was alright.

/Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan please hear me! Are you alright?/

Nothing came back along the bond to the Master- not even a flicker of pain or flash of recognition. It was as if for that brief moment it had erupted into life and then died down again. That couldn't mean…

(Somewhere in the Imperial Palace- Obi-Wan)

Obi-Wan struggled not to cry out, writhing on the floor as pain flooded through his system, paralysing his mind for a few moments as he inwardly screamed, the edges of his vision blackening as he fought to remain conscious. Force that pain was immense. The shot had been poorly aimed and the blaster bolt had smashed into the back of his leg, millimetres from the knee cap, embedding itself and shattering bone and slicing through muscle as it went.

/Master!/ Obi-Wan cried out mentally in anquish. It hurts, Sith curses it hurts! Obi-Wan could not remember ever feeling such pain. Not even the day he had become Qui-Gon's Padawan back in the Temple after facing off Sony-Da.

Kol, furious for being shoved at, whirled around, understanding immediately registering as the Jedi apprentice collapsed to the ground with a tight scream, fingers scrabbling at his right leg. Kol's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the injury and reacted swiftly to stun the guard who had shot the boy.

The boy had taken the fire for him- pushed him- Kol the enemy out of the line of the shot. Kol couldn't quite understand the logic behind that as he gingerly knelt beside the wounded Jedi. So the stories were true? There really were such beings as the supposed self-sacrificing Jedi who did things for the good of the galaxy? The boy couldn't be older than fourteen standard years- and yet he showed courage where others would have allowed, or simply not realised their leader was about to be hit.

Zariya peered around the corner and took out the last guard as Kol stayed beside the wounded Jedi, reaching out towards him, in a very unusual display of emotion. "Come on- hurry up!" she hissed, waving to her leader.

"He's injured," Kol said as one of the rebels with a med kit hurried to his side.

"We don't have time!" Zariya argued, eyes narrowing. "Leave the boy- he's not important!"

"He's our bargaining chip if anything goes wrong!" Kol snapped, easily sliding back into the role of commander, watching as the boy's face paled to alabaster white as the rebel treating his wound inexpertly probed it, sifting through his kit. "Can we move him?"

"It's a bad injury," the rebel said, as Obi-Wan clamped down on his lips to stop the scream of pain giving away their position. If only he had been allowed his lightsaber- he could have easily deflected the shot. Was the pain worth it to stick to his morals and duty?

"The next patrol will be around the corner in minutes!" Jago had come back, checking his chrono. "We take him now- or we have to silence him till it's all over."

"He comes with us now!" Kol's tone was final and Jago nodded curtly.

"I can move," Obi-Wan muttered through gritted teeth. "But please…remove the Force inhibitor." Without the Force to dull and help control the pain, Obi-Wan was helpless and in agony, unable to release his feelings and emotions. He would very likely- go mad.

Then he felt it, for the briefest second: a tendril of comfort and soothing in the back of his mind, dampening the pain for one, glorious, heavenly moment. For that moment, Obi-Wan felt lighter than air as all his muscles relaxed and the tension unwound.

That wasn't the only thing that made Obi-Wan's heart leap. He would recognized that Force signature anyway.

His Master. Qui-Gon had felt him for an instant. Had felt his need for help.

/Master!/ Obi-Wan cried out mentally. He almost sobbed in relief as he scoured the back of his mind in an attempt to retrace and strengthen the mental link. /Please Master help me!/ Was he gradually becoming more aware of the Force again? It was there- Obi-Wan could feel it. Not as strongly as he would have liked but more than he had felt in days. It was as though Qui-Gon's thoughts had brushed away the cobwebs in his mind, allowing the Force to flood back in. Well- filter in at this rate.

Jago and Kol exchanged glances as the Padawan went still for a moment and an expression of calm and serenity washed over the pinched and pain filled young face. "Alright- get him upright- we move towards the grand hall!" Kol ordered. He didn't answer the Jedi's plea. They had no antidote to the drug they had administered upon capturing the Jedi. At least he knew the second drug they had given the boy during the interrogation only lasted several hours or so before wearing off.

Zariya looked furious, but she obediently moved off down the corridor with another rebel in tow, to scout out the area.

Two rebels took Obi-Wan's arms over their shoulders, lifting the Padawan to his feet, wincing as a quiet cry of pain slipped through Obi-Wan's tight defences. Steadily and as fast as they could manage, they half carried, half supported the pain filled Jedi through the Imperial Palace corridors. The stairs were painful to navigate and Obi-Wan almost resigned himself to being left behind but he battled on. His Master would be there. Everything would be alright...

"Wait, wait!" Obi-Wan gasped out as they moved steadily closer to the grand hall. He could feel the presence, dim may it be, of many people in the grand hall. And one shining beacon of light. His Master was in the room, Obi-Wan was positive of it.

Jago rounded on the boy. "Keep your mouth shut! Do you want the patrols to hear us?"

"The patrols are under control," Kol said firmly. "She has that sorted. What is it?" he snapped at Obi-Wan. For some reason he found himself listening to what the Jedi wanted to say.

"There are so many people in that room- if you go in- so many will die," Obi-Wan managed as a flare of pain shot through his leg at the slightest movement. "Please reconsider."

Kol looked incredulous, Jago outraged. "We've come so far – we can't stop now!" Jago hissed urgently at his leader. "No matter what the Jedi says- this is in the interests of Malrion we're doing this for! Remember the people we will be saving by this course of action!"

Kol nodded, looking now to Obi-Wan. "I cannot do as you say boy. We must go in now."

Jago looked relieved.

The rebels took up their positions on the door, blasters trained. Kol knew that the insurance group around the other side of the hall were also ready and primed for his signal. He waited a few moments whilst his team composed themselves, nodding in turn to assure the commander they were ready. He then pulled out the tiny communication device and held it up. "Blue Wing- respond."

There was a crackle of static and the rebel on the other end gave the affirmative. They were ready.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Why weren't the people in the hall more alert? Why did they not know of the danger about to be inflicted on them?

/Master! Danger! Attack!/ Obi-Wan willed all his strength and effort into those three words as he hurled them along the bond just as Zariya and a burly rebel threw themselves at the doors to the grand hall, which flew open and the rebels spilled in.

Qui-Gon nodded as Advisor Wei made another dreary comment on the hyperspace route ways, an excited smile plastered to the man's face. At that moment, the Jedi's attention was anywhere but the banquet hall or the other half of the conversation he was meant to be upholding.

Instead, he was more inwardly occupied. Using the Force as his ally, he battered away at the Master-Padawan bond he shared with Obi-Wan, listening intently all the while for a response since the Master had received the pain stricken wave. And still nothing.

Glancing up again, Qui-Gon frowned as he noticed the balcony was now clear of guards. He looked all the way around the room- the guards had disappeared without anyone noticing. Qui-Gon tested the Force: something clearly wasn't right…

/Master! Danger! Attack!/

Qui-Gon sat up straight immediately as the words lit up in his consciousness. He needed no probe to know that they were from Obi-Wan, sent in the keenest distress. Not only that- he could feel his Padawan- Obi-Wan was close by. That meant there was trouble. The Jedi Master's hand fell to his lightsaber and in one sure, smooth motion he rose from his chair immediately, igniting the emerald blade.

Any questions about to be asked by the stunned politicians around him as to the Jedi's behaviour- were answered as the doors to the banquet hall flew open with a bang, several stray blaster bolts flying through the air. With practised ease, Qui-Gon intercepted two before they could reach any victim, sending them crashing harmlessly in to the marble pillars, green blade humming as it swept through the air.

Frightened cries rang out as the politicians, advisors scattered to hide beneath the table – out of the way from the rebels' firing.

"First Minister- get down," Qui-Gon ordered as the rebels marched into the banquet hall, all carrying an assortment of weapons.

The First Minister growled defiantly against Qui-Gon's command, as Advisor Klone hurried to obey, shivering behind the protection of his high backed chair. "I will not Master Jedi- these rebel scum deserve what's coming to them. They've only made my job easier. Guards!"

"Your guards aren't coming," one man stepped forward. Qui-Gon faced him squarely. His skin was of an olive hue and his eyes burned a bright startling blue, gazing fiercely at Qui-Gon with a forceful intensity. Qui-Gon noticed a white jagged scar on the man's face, sweeping down from his left eye down to the centre of his cheek. He did not look very old, probably early thirty standard years.

"What?" the Fist Minister demanded, fists clenched at his sides.

Qui-Gon had to admire the man's courage in front of so many armed men and women. The Minister had to know that one Jedi could not save him if the rebels decided to shoot everyone. One Jedi…but where was Obi-Wan? The thought struck Qui-Gon- he had felt Obi-Wan's presence a moment before the attack. Pushing through the obstacles clogging the bond he kept digging at what was blocking their connection. He scanned the faces of the rebels- none were recognizable his Padawan. Had he been mistaken in feeling Obi-Wan's presence so close?

"Your guards are elsewhere. They've been sent to find us- but I believe they were misinformed as to our whereabouts," the scarred man said, taking a step forward, blaster trained on the First Minister. "Seal off the doors- bring in the prisoner first though," he ordered imperiously. "And power that down Jedi." He nodded at Qui-Gon, "kick it this way."

Qui-Gon realised there was nothing he could do as he slid his lightsaber along the ground with the Force to the lead rebel's reach. But prisoners? Who were they referring to? The First Minister looked blank as well.

Qui-Gon felt him before he saw him. Supported between two rebels, face drawn tight in a mask of pain, his young Padawan was brought into the room. He could feel the boy's Force signature, though was bewildered to sense it so diminished and weak. Back in the Temple, Obi-Wan's signature was similar to a blazing beacon in the Force. Qui-Gon made to move to help the boy but three blasters immediately trained upon him.

/Obi-Wan!/ Qui-Gon's mind rejoiced as he saw his Padawan alive, pushing comfort and healing through their bond towards his apprentice. Concern and anxiety for the boy's welfare immediately followed the initial joy as he saw the soaked bandage around Obi-Wan's leg just above the knee. Had that been the cause of the pain he had felt through their bond? To the Master's intense relief Obi-Wan looked up as he staggered into the room, displaying a true smile that lit up in his eyes upon seeing Qui-Gon, despite his pained and haggard appearance.

Obi-Wan felt the pain lift again as his eyes landed on his tall Master, standing beside the First Minister of Malrion. He saw the joy for a moment in the older Jedi's eyes and knew it mirrored his own. His Master was here. It would be alright. His leg jerked with the movement of the rebels and he hissed sharply as the pain spiked.

"Don't move -Master Jedi," one young man scowled at Qui-Gon as he made to move to Obi-Wan's side upon hearing the slight moan of pain, weapon pointed directly at Qui-Gon's chest. "Stay exactly where you are."

"He's injured…please- let me help him," Qui-Gon said. "The wound needs to treated."

"If you want him back in one piece you're going to have to listen to what we have to say first," the scarred face man spoke up, glancing between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "So this is your Master boy? The intended target. No matter." He cleared his throat. "I want all of them rounded up and on their knees in a straight line over there," he pointed.

The rebels moved closer to the politicians, weapons raised.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged tense, worried looks. This was not good.

I seem to be making a habit of these bad cliffhangers. Very sorry. Hopefully it will all be resolved in the next chapter!

Hope you enjoyed reading- please review if you have the time :) I love reading them- and I try to respond to them! I read that getting shot in the knee cap is very very painful. I should really apologise to Obi-Wan haha! But there shall be comforting of the injured Padawan very soon!

I'm also re-writing a lot of Lost and Found. Only because I realised how badly some of it was written! So I will say when that is finished!

Thanks!

AldabaranFox