Sorry for the wait, but I was busy finishing up another story! Updates will be quicker now, I promise!
Please note that I haven't read much of Star Wars beyond the six main books/movies, unless you count a ton of fanfiction.
Disclaimer: nope, not mine, just barrowing.
000
Qui-Gon lay quietly, trying to get his bearings, as Obi-Wan slept on. From what he could tell, they were in a small room, possibly a ship of some kind, and it was presumably late at night. Qui-Gon sent out a small Force-probe and found that he was correct, they were on a spaceship. According to the different Force signatures, several females were asleep in one part of the ship, three men were in the cockpit, an alien was sleeping in the main area, and a little boy and a slightly older girl were talking in the main area. Qui-Gon recognized who with a jolt.
The Queen and Anakin!
The Force must have sent him back to that sliver Nabooian cruiser on its way to Coruscant. But why? And how? His memories of the future were slipping, slipping away like grains of sand in the wind. Qui-Gon clutched at the remains.
Something horrible was going to happen soon, he knew, but he didn't know what. He just felt a searing pain, a rush of sadness, a sense of urgency, and a barrel of love and pride. And then something even more awful was going to happen, but years and years away. As he tried to think of it, he felt suddenly scorching hot, afraid, sad, and regretful, but yet a strange sense of unattachedness, as though it didn't really affect him personally.
Qui-Gon jumped slightly as Obi-Wan muttered something about crazy, hairless Masters, a dysfunctional cleaning droid, and some spray cheese and rolled over in his sleep. Qui-Gon grinned sheepishly to himself, having forgotten his Padawan was in the room, sleeping and apparently dreaming about pranking Mace with his friends.
A rush of images assaulted Qui-Gon as he thought of Obi-Wan.
His Padawan's stony face, unimaginable sadness beneath, lit by flames.
A braid-less, shaggy-haired Obi-Wan, reprimanding a small boy.
A much older Obi-Wan, now with a full mullet and beard, looking over the side of a yellow speeder, muttering about hating someone for doing something stupid.
A grim, and soggy, Obi-Wan, deflecting laser blasts in the pouring rain.
Ob-Wan chained to a stone pillar, looking at a passing cart with disbelief, annoyance, a bit of anger, and a touch of pride.
Obi-Wan, hair now cut much shorter, battling against thousands of droids in thousands of settings. Jungles, deserts, tundras, plains, mountains, cities, and so many more, always surrounded by white-armored men, and occasionally helped by other Jedi, usually a tall, dark haired man and a young Torguta girl.
Obi-Wan, facing off against a powerful, multi-limbed droid with lightsabers and a pale woman with dark purplish tattoos wielding two red sabers, over and over and over, each time barley escaping.
Obi-Wan, tears streaming down his face, standing atop a small black hill, shouting at someone laying at the foot of the hill, engulfed in flames, saying that he had loved the burning man like a brother.
The images stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Qui-Gon reached up and was unsurprised to find a trace of wetness on his cheek. His poor Padawan had gone through a lot, and it seemed he was destined to go through more.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon whispered. All he got in return was another mumble about spray cheese and Mace's head.
000
Ok, I seriously have no idea what I just wrote. When I sat down to write this chapter, all I had in mind were three things: They're on the ship to Coruscant, Qui-Gon can't remember much about the future, and there needs to be some sort of humor because serious stories can get depressing really quick. You have just read the end result. I'm sorry if you're eyes are bleeding.
Thanks to every single reviewer! You guys make me smile! And please review this chapter too! Any ideas for the next few chapters are welcome and will be considered. :D