I keep forgetting to update this... (meeps). Sorry about that!

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Chapter 2

Obi-Wan slumped on the uncomfortable stone bench, head cradled in his hands. Around him, the locals of the Sith-forsaken planet whispered in their oddly sibilant voices, the sound echoed by the hissing of the incessant rain outside. Thankfully, none of the Togorians dared to bother a Jedi Knight who was completely absorbed in his own despair: Obi-Wan knew that he couldn't put on the face of a diplomat at a time like this.

The Jedi Knight glanced up with hollow eyes at the healer who knelt beside him and mechanically examined the deep gash on his arm, ears twitching faintly as he studied the wound. Although there were fairly advanced cities on the far side of the planet, out here in the jungle, medicine was half guess-work, half religious fervour, where the remedy could be more deadly than the disease.

At the moment, Obi-Wan didn't care what kind of ineffective remedy this tribesman would use to bind his arm. He didn't care if infection set in, or if the cure was worse than the cut itself, because he had failed.

Anakin was still missing.

Obi-Wan and his Padawan had been dispatched to investigate a suspected smuggling cartel connected with the Trade Federation. Their information had led them to believe that the main base was located in the jungle surrounding the small Togorian village. A basic mission, nothing especially dangerous for their first outing together as Master and Padawan. The Togorian race was known to be distinctly cold and aloof to outsiders, especially the jungle natives, so the second part of their mandate was to engage the help of the locals.

Wandering through the jungle, trying to find their contact upon landing, was when Obi-Wan had lost him. Anakin had been chattering about nonsensical things, the way he always did, and Obi-Wan had sternly reprimanded the boy to be quiet for once in his life. Sullen at the remark, Anakin had lagged behind, scuffing his feet and muttering to himself.

At the time, Obi-Wan had been too irritated to care if his Padawan wanted to sulk. But when he had turned around to find his apprentice gone, he had felt as though his heart had stopped in his chest. There was no sign, no trace of struggle or treachery… Anakin had just been gone.

That had been two days ago.

The rain had started that evening, the monsoon season on the tribal planet. Obi-Wan had barely been able to find the village himself, but had been positively crushed to find that he was the only stranger to come wandering out of the jungle.

Although the leaders of the clans had tried to prevent him, Obi-Wan had immediately left the village again, obsessively scoured the surrounding terrain, refusing to eat or rest until the boy was found. Finding the Togorians had been his only real hope – they knew the planet better than he did, and surely would hasten his reunion with his Padawan.

However, the primitive religion of the tribe stated that their God manifested himself in the rain. Only shamans and the poor fools who had been touched by the Hand of God ventured out into it. No one else would take the risk – all who ventured out into the rain returned drastically changed. After all, what mere mortal could face the divine and remain unaltered?

Obi-Wan had caustically wondered at the time whether the almost feline appearance of the Togorians had something to do with their aversion to water. After a day, however, he had started to wonder if they were right about the rain.

Perhaps it was true. Obi-Wan certainly didn't recognize himself – robbed of his impassivity, bedraggled and mud-stained, violating the precepts of the local religion in his obsessive search for Anakin. To his eternal shame, he had even threatened the tribal elders with his lightsabre in an attempt to force them to help him.

All to no avail. His reputation as a skilled negotiator had failed him, as had brute force. He had failed his Master's teachings just as he had failed Anakin – he searched alone.

He didn't know how much longer he would last, however. The lack of sleep was taking a toll on his alertness. The hanadak had come out of nowhere that afternoon, bowling him over and opening his arm to the bone with one swipe. The idea that he, a full Jedi Knight, could be surprised so easily by the creature made him even more sick with worry about Anakin. If the boy hadn't been captured or killed, would he have managed to survive without any food or shelter?

Sudden increases in conversation made Obi-Wan open his eyes and slowly raise his head. The locals were peering out windows and clustering at the door, straining to see over each other's heads without setting food in the rain.

Obi-Wan sagged back on the bench. No, he wouldn't trust to hope. The excitement would turn out to be nothing more than one of the shamans returning with a ridiculously overdramatic tale of the vision he had received, or a hunter with a carcass of an animal that was somehow more fascinating than any other dead creature.

But when the healer rose as well and joined the crowd, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel the first stirrings of uneasiness. His thoughts had been too crowded with images of his apprentice dying somewhere, beyond his reach. If the boy really was dead, Obi-Wan wasn't sure he wanted to know. As long as there was no news, there was still the hope that Anakin was still alive somewhere.

All the same, as the healer returned to his side with an obvious show of reluctance, the weary Jedi Knight caught his arm and asked what was happening. A knowing smile was his response.

"A hunter returned today," he mewled softly. "Brings not food, but a boy. Hiding in the jungle, he was, scared of everything except one who came with a spear. He attacked. Took Klanday by surprise." The Healer bared his teeth, an equivalent of a smile. "Your son, yes?"

Obi-Wan didn't bother to correct him – the concept of an apprentice was lost on them it seemed. But he had leapt up before the explanation was even finished, pushing his way through the tightly crowded people.

Anakin. It had to be. No one else would be crazy enough to attack an armed feline who was almost three metres tall. Obi-Wan wanted to laugh in relief, to run up and hug Anakin in the sheer joy of finding his apprentice was still alive. But in the wake of that reassurance, the anger born of his anxiety was allowed to surface.

Impatiently, Obi-Wan pushed through the crowd that clustered in the doorway of the tiny shrine. Ignoring the puddles and squelching mud that sucked at his boots, the Jedi Knight dashed out into the warm tropical rain to meet his battered and bruised Padawan. Anakin was staring resolutely at the ground, his shoulders hunched, clothing soaked through.

Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin by the shoulders, his heart thundering in his ears as he shook his Padawan roughly. "Have you any idea how worried I was about you? Where in the Sith have you been, Anakin?"

Anakin shot him a startled glance, as though unnerved by his Master's unusual burst of emotion. Obi-Wan's throat felt oddly constricted, as though he were about to cry.

"You never leave my side without apprising me of your whereabouts, do you understand me?" When Anakin didn't reply, Obi-Wan shook him even harder, hearing his own voice crack. "Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, Master," Anakin whispered.

Obi-Wan's heart lurched as he realized that there were tears mingled with the raindrops on his Padawan's cheeks. With a soft cry he pulled Anakin roughly into his arms, crushing the boy into his embrace. His own eyes were burning as he held Anakin close, heedless of the incessant rain that gradually soaked through his cloak and tunics. He was aware only of Anakin's muffled sobs against his shoulder.

Pulling his cloak forward to wrap Anakin inside it as well, Obi-Wan rested his cheek against his Padawan's soaking hair and closed his eyes tightly.

Perhaps this rain did change people after all.

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