Coruscant. Obi-Wan was certain he'd been there before. The buildings and the congested speeder traffic and the hazy orange and purple sunset… As Sidious ushered the boy into the strange, decrepit-looking building, he took a good hard look at his surroundings. He was certain he'd been there before, but he couldn't remember when.
He was no longer shackled, but he knew it would be foolish to try and run. The Sith Lord had proven precisely how powerful he was while they were still on board the ship. There was a painful hitch in Obi-Wan's gait that was a constant reminder of what the Sith could do to him.
Sidious grinned as he felt the boy's pain with every step he was forced to take. His cries of pain as he'd been violated had been music to Sidious' ears. It was only too bad that the boy could not speak. Perhaps, he thought, I can teach him again. That bounty hunter did an amateur job. Perhaps…
He opened the door to a flat on the same floor as the landing pad and shoved Obi-Wan inside. He followed close behind, locking the door behind them. Obi-Wan could sense the presence of another person in that flat. They felt just as cold and unpleasant as Sidious.
"Good, good," Sidious said as he slowly, lazily began to circle Obi-Wan. The flat was cast in near-total darkness with only the pale glow of the door panel to illuminate anything. Obi-Wan blinked hard but could not convince his eyes to adjust to the darkness. "Your fear tastes sweet, Obi-Wan. Your old Master would be disappointed. A Jedi fears nothing. Not even my own apprentice, Darth Maul."
The second presence moved closer, and all at once the lights hanging on the walls turned on, causing Obi-Wan to stumble back and cover his eyes. He managed to catch a small glimpse of the other in the room and his breath caught in his throat.
Jedi. The word meant something to him, but he wasn't certain precisely what. How he wished he could access all of his memory. He couldn't even remember how he'd lost his memory. He could remember the man with the graying hair and crooked smile trying to save him and the next thing he knew he was being sold to Mut Brovado.
An icy leather glove pressing into his throat brought him out of his thoughts and he gave a startled grunt as the one called Maul lifted him.
"Are you certain it was a Jedi, my Master?" Maul asked, raising an eyebrow. "The Force is not very strong with him."
Obi-Wan clawed at the hand that tightened around his throat, kicking and thrashing as his lungs began to scream for air. Panic bubbled up in him as he fought to breathe. Sidious laughed as the boy continued to struggle, his movements growing both weaker and more desperate with every passing second.
"Enough, Lord Maul. This boy still has his training link with his Master. Why end his life and cause the Master one minute of pain when we can draw out the torture and cause two Jedi to suffer indefinitely?" Sidious asked as Maul released Obi-Wan, who fell in a crumpled heap to the floor, coughing and sputtering as he took great desperate gulps of air.
What does he mean by that? Obi-Wan wondered as he stared up at the two men in horror. Sidious had just said his life would be spared— for now— but Obi-Wan didn't like the prospect of a life of pain and suffering, especially if it would also somehow cause someone else pain and suffering.
"On your knees, Jedi scum," Maul said. When Obi-Wan didn't immediately obey, he was met with a sharp kick to the ribs. He felt— and heard— a painful crack. Maul heard it too. When Obi-Wan managed to look up at the tattooed man, his face bore a disturbing grin. "I said, on your knees."
Obi-Wan pulled himself to his knees, cringing as he shifted his weight around the broken rib.
"Open your mouth, Obi-Wan." This time it was Sidious who spoke. Obi-Wan looked over at him, temporarily distracted by the older man. That was all it took. Obi-Wan's lips parted ever so slightly in his confusion. Maul took this as an invitation.
Strong hands forced his head forward, forced his mouth to open wide to accommodate the Sith Lord.
))((
He was helping rebuild a hyperdrive on Alderaan when it happened. Suddenly, violently, his vision changed. No longer was he looking at the engine he was working on, but rather on black robes and something Qui-Gon couldn't quite make out. He could hear strange disembodied laughter that made him feel incredibly uneasy.
It was then that the pain and confusion and fear hit him. It was then that he realized what was happening. Obi-Wan, he thought in stunned horror. Fool! You gave up on him too quickly and now he's in danger!
-Where are you? Obi-Wan, where are you?- Qui-Gon demanded through their link. He received no response. -Obi-Wan?-
Another flash of that same horrible vision, that same pain and confusion. Qui-Gon sank to his knees, then sat on the floor. Reaching out to him through the Force, he couldn't quite pinpoint him. Obi-Wan was too far away. He had no idea in which direction.
Jango said Tatooine. I should go to Tatooine.
It was nothing more than a tiny glimmer of hope hidden deep within a mountain of pain, but for the first time in days Qui-Gon did not welcome death at any time. There was a chance he could see his Padawan again, a chance that he wasn't as far gone as the bounty hunter had insisted.
I let my grief get the best of me, Qui-Gon thought. He had a hard time reconciling that with himself.
Another flash from his Padawan's perspective. He was on the floor looking up in a brightly lit room. There were two other men in the room, standing quite close. They wore black robes. One was in the middle of disrobing, the other watched on, laughing at Obi-Wan's fear.
He began to wonder if Obi-Wan was aware of what he was projecting. He wondered if their connection was damaged somehow. Perhaps he could only project, not receive. Qui-Gon hoped that wasn't the case. He hoped Jango wasn't as good as he claimed to be.
))((
The bounty hunter only had a split second to react as a lightsaber came crashing down through the pilot's seat. He was up and facing the Jedi who had managed to come aboard, his blaster drawn. He was know match for a lightsaber, that much he knew. He'd seen Qui-Gon use his far more times than he cared to have. Vicious weapons, able to kill with a single casual gesture.
"I'm trying to make this right," he said. "Please. I have information that Qui-Gon Jinn needs to hear."
"You can tell the Council then," replied the woman who stood before him. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-two or twenty-three. She stood more than a foot and a half shorter than him, but she didn't need height to be intimidating. Her eyes were fierce, focused.
"I'm afraid that won't work," Jango said, leveling his blaster at her chest. It was set to stun; he didn't want any more reason for Qui-Gon to look at him with pain in his eyes. But he also couldn't allow this young knight to slow him any further. "The information is time sensitive. By the time your Council passes it on, it will be too late."
That 'saber of hers passed awful close to his face— far too close for his comfort— and he put his finger on the trigger. "Please, I have a thing about shooting girls. It doesn't seem right." The look she gave him was something between a glare and a snarl.
She deflected his first two shots, but she didn't anticipate the third in time. A split second too late she moved to block, but it hit her in the chest. She slumped backward, her lightsaber deactivating as it fell from her hands. Jango took it and stowed it under his co-pilot's seat.
She was small enough that he was able to carry her with ease, though when she'd fallen her hair had come loose from the intricate braid it had been tied back in. It was long enough that it was tripping him up as he carried her.
Unlike Kenobi, he put the girl in a cage. She was clearly far stronger with the Force than the boy had been and he had no time for her to go breaking through shackles.
Where would Qui-Gon go? He wondered once she was safely stowed away. He would bring her back to the Jedi Temple once Qui-Gon knew what he had learned from Mut. Hopefully he'd be bringing Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan back then, too.
He'd start on Tatooine. If Qui-Gon was still anything like he'd been when they'd been pals so many years ago on Coruscant, he'd go there to begin his search. He knew that was what Qui-Gon was doing. It had to be. He wouldn't just abandon the boy that way. His empathy wouldn't allow for it.
))((
Obi-Wan was sprawled, naked and bleeding, across the floor, feeling thoroughly violated. Every tiny movement was torturous. He knew something had ripped when Sidious had taken him from behind. The pain had been excruciating. Now it was just as bad but in a different way.
The two Sith had gone, leaving him alone to clean himself up and fix his wounds. Two things he was in far too much pain to consider.
After the Sith had taken him so violently and so thoroughly, they had beaten him and left him bruised and weak on the floor.
He didn't know how long had passed since he'd been left alone, nor did he know how many times he'd drifted in and out of consciousness. If this was going to be his life, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue with it.
As dawn's first rays of sunlight peeked through the windows, he finally passed out.
While he slept, he dreamed. They were grand dreams of incredible adventures with the man with the crooked smile. In his dreams that man radiated love for him and touched his shoulder, his arm, his hair quite often to reassure him.
In his dreams he could speak, though he couldn't hear his own voice.
In his dreams he wasn't in pain.