He was cold. Cold metal ringed his neck; his biceps and thighs; chained his wrists and his ankles behind him. He shivered, and he whimpered. He was cold, and he was alone. Alone in the dark.
Obi-Wan. Come.
"Master?" His memory was hazy, as if seen through a thick fog, but he remembered - Qui-Gon, trapped. Raising his arm - the Dark Side rushing through him -
Or had it? Had he run to his master, beyond hope -
Padawan. Come to me.
"Where are you?" The sound of his voice fell dim, muffled in the darkness. There was no echo, no other sound.
Close. But you must come to me.
"I can't, Master. I can't move." Panic touched Obi-Wan. The darkness weighed so heavily on him, and he could not move... "Please come get me!"
I can't do that, Padawan. You must come to me. Don't be afraid.
"But I can't, I'm chained here -"
The chains aren't real.
Obi-Wan was silent. With his fingertips he felt the chill edge of the manacle around his wrist; the chain clipped to a ring on the inner edge.
"It feels real," he whispered.
Come back, Obi-Wan. Leave the fear and the chains behind. Come back to yourself.
Obi-Wan raised his head; strained his eyes for some sign of light, a hint of where he was. Was any of this real? Where was he? Where was the way out?
"How, Master? I don't know how!"
Hush, Obi-Wan. Strength over fear.
Obi-Wan flinched at the mild rebuke in Qui-Gon's tone, suddenly ashamed. Whining like a baby! You're a Padawan, not an infant, he scolded himself. He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, calmed his racing heart. But when he centered for the next stage of the exercise for active awareness, he lost all he had gained. His eyes snapped open.
"I'm all darkness inside!"
Reach out with your feelings, Padawan.
"But -"
Come find me. Reach for the light.
Obi-Wan swallowed. What if he couldn't reach the Force? What if the Dark Side had claimed him, and refused to give him up? Qui-Gon told me to reach for the light, he answered himself. Holding on to that thought, he calmed himself and extended once more, ignoring as best he could the sea of darkness that filled him, that engulfed him, though it made him queasy to extend his senses through it. Obi-Wan pushed on, searching, his thoughts muzzy and muffled, with no sign of life to focus on, nothing but the darkness. He felt as though he were deep in the ocean, not knowing which direction was up, to the surface and blessed light and air.
Master, help me!
He was lost. He was drowning in the dark.
Master!
Like a hand pulling him from the churning sea, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's warm touch, pulling him from the brink of panic. He clung to Qui-Gon's firm presence in relief: clung to him, to his strength and purpose; feeling as he had not felt in far too long: that all could be right in the world, with the Force as the path under his feet and the beacon to light his way; and with his master to help and guide him. Qui-Gon's relief and happiness echoed his own, and he knew he'd found his way home. Warmth of welcome poured through him, not only from Qui-Gon. He recognized that other presence...
Tahl?
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He was curled up in Qui-Gon's lap, held close against his master's chest, Qui-Gon's robe and arms snugged tight around him. He felt... content. Safe. He sighed.
Suddenly embarrassed, he stiffened and withdrew a little.
"What's wrong, Obi-Wan?"
"I'm so sorry, Master."
"For what?" Qui-Gon sounded bemused.
"I've been... For being such a baby."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "I suppose it's a good sign that your dignity is reasserting itself. We're not out of trouble yet, you realize. Still..." He put one hand on Obi-Wan's chest.
Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon probing his body with the Force. He felt strangely light: insubstantial, transparent: glancing down at his hands he was almost surprised to see that they were whole and solid. He hugged himself. Part of him had expected to see a glow of light shining through his skin. He shook his head, confused. "What happened, Qui-Gon? I can't - I felt so dark, before: I was drowning - but now I'm all light and warmth: like a candle, or a banked flame..."
"It's the drug in your system, Obi-Wan: it was primed to the Dark Side, but we changed it, together. But it's still there, still affecting your Force abilities. You can reach the Force now, but you must be careful how you draw on it: careful not to extend yourself too far." With one hand he touched the collar at Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan felt a surge of the Force. The metal ring sprang open.
A slight tremor in his hands, Obi-Wan unfolded his arms, and took the collar from his neck. He looked at it in wonder. Such a simple thing, to have caused him such pain...
Gently Qui-Gon shifted Obi-Wan to the floor beside him. Then he stood, and, taking the collar from Obi-Wan, he placed it on the floor, curve up; rested the heel of his boot on it, and lowered his weight. It flattened, slowly, and finally snapped in two at the hinge.
Obi-Wan heard rapid footsteps approaching. He struggled to his feet to stand beside Qui-Gon. He was surprised again to see that Sitaris was gone from the cell's entryway. He glanced quickly around.
"He's gone," Qui-Gon murmured. "I hope he got away."
Xanatos strode through the open door, his face livid. "What have you..." He stopped, his eyes taking in the two of them standing side by side, the broken collar on the floor. His eyes narrowed. "Impressive. But don't think this act will save the boy -"
The peal of an alarm siren interrupted him.
Lips tight, Xanatos stared at Qui-Gon, but only for a moment. He turned on his heel and strode out of sight. Obi-Wan heard the whoosh of the door to Xanatos' living quarters closing behind him.
Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon, questions in his eyes.
Qui-Gon smiled at him grimly. "Tomas, and Ki-Erin."
"The alarm -"
"They'll want to reach us before any guards arrive."
The door opened again almost before Qui-Gon finished speaking. A girl sprinted into view. She skidded to a halt in front of the open cell door when she caught sight of them. Obi-Wan frowned. She wore a collar and a flowered yellow wrap around her torso; her limbs and feet were bare. But a red Padawan's tail danced behind her. She carried a lightsaber, lit golden orange, in one hand.
"Ki'rin," he whispered.
"Wedge the door before you come in here," Qui-Gon rapped out.
Ki-Erin nodded and dived out of sight. They heard her rattling through the cabinets in the utility room. She reappeared with a long stout pole in one hand, which she wedged across the cell's open doorway. Then she jumped over it into the room, glancing around for the energy wall controls. When they weren't immediately obvious, she ran her hand over the surfaces of the wall around her, using the Force to feel for the flow of energy to trace to a convergence, which she eventually found near the door.
She didn't waste time fiddling. After a cursory inspection, Ki-Erin plunged her lightsaber into the wall and twisted. Ten long seconds later, the energy wall winked out. The door immediately strained against the blockage Ki-Erin had placed in the way. The pole slowly buckled. Ki-Erin jumped out, then Obi-Wan, who tripped as the pole suddenly bent upward nearly in half. But Qui-Gon caught him before he could fall, and lifted him out the door before squeezing through the narrow opening himself.
"I'll guard him, Master Qui-Gon." Ki-Erin took hold of Obi-Wan's arm. "You help Tomas."
"Guard me?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "See if we can use the lift," he told Ki-Erin. Then he ducked out the door.
"But -"
"C'mon." Ki-Erin tugged Obi-Wan to the lift tube. He let her lead him, his feelings a tangled mess.
"How do you call this thing?" Ki-Erin asked him.
Obi-Wan shrugged, embarrassed, though he couldn't say why. "Sitaris always palmed it."
"Coded isn't good. Think we could rewire it?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I don't think the control circuits are easy to access. At least, I've never found them." He added, muttering, "not that I had any opportunity to look."
Ki-Erin glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Obi-Wan turned away. She touched his arm. "We do what we can," she told him softly.
They heard the unmistakable sound of blaster fire from beyond the door. Obi-Wan turned back to Ki-Erin. "We're running out of time. We should be helping our Masters, not wasting time here."
"We can help by finding another way out of here. Obi-Wan - what is it?"
Obi-Wan didn't answer. In a flash of memory, he had seen Qui-Gon stepping through the door, with his lightsaber in hand - and Obi-Wan's lightsaber still at his belt. Why hadn't Qui-Gon returned it, and let Obi-Wan take his place again at his master's side?
Ki-Erin shook his shoulder. "Obi-Wan!"
Obi-Wan dragged his focus back to the present. Both Padawans turned to stare at the lift tube door. They could hear, unmistakably, the sound of the repulsorlift car approaching from below.
"Come on," ordered Ki-Erin, suddenly decisive. She stood, dragging him up by the hand. "Where does this other door lead?"
"Bath, study, bedroom -"
"Good enough." She pulled Obi-Wan through into the wide hall, and used the door's access pad to lock it behind them.
"The main room is this way." Obi-Wan pulled Ki-Erin, now, to the door at one end of the hall. They could hear from beyond it blaster fire and the hum and sizzle of lightsabers engaging.
"We have to stay here, you're not armed!"
"So I'll stand in the door where it's safe while you help," Obi-Wan told her, unable to keep a note of bitterness from his voice. Ki-Erin gave him a sharp look, but she didn't argue. While he slapped opened the door she took up a guard position in front of him, igniting her blade.
A door yawned in the far wall, where Obi-Wan had never guessed one would exist: the access to a horizontal repulsorlift tube. Near it, Qui-Gon traded furious blows with Xanatos, backing him to the windows. Closer to the two padawans, Tomas stood with his back to a divider wall in the center of the room, fending off blaster fire from a ring of beings of assorted species, all dressed in the red of the Palace guards, encircling the main door into the apartment from the Palace halls, using furnishings and the door frame for cover. Several guards lay dead or injured on the floor, but more pressed in from the hall.
"Promise me you'll stay safe, Obi-Wan," Ki-Erin demanded.
"I will!" Obi-Wan told her, bristling in his frustration. He watched her leap into position at Tomas' flank, to help defend her master and drive back the guards; but also she chose her ground to provide cover for Obi-Wan standing in the doorway behind her, to prevent any guards from pressing forward in that direction. At the other side of the room, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon slammed backwards into the wall by a Force-push from Xanatos. His master's tunic sleeve was stained red with blood. Qui-Gon needed him. Why wasn't he allowed to help? If only he could help! But maybe there was another way...
A new certainty touched him. Releasing his frustration, focusing on the present, on his need, he centered: let the Force flow through him. It filled him with light, ignited him like he was a burning brand. He had never felt such strength. He marveled at it. With the ease of flicking a finger, he threw a guard across the room to slam into the wall. The guard crumpled, stunned.
Obi-Wan frowned with unease. The Force came so easily, he felt heady with the power. He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to calm the flood of his senses. So this was what Qui-Gon had meant, telling him to be careful.
He looked up. Qui-Gon was up once more, fighting defensively now. Xanatos pressed toward his hurt side. Qui-Gon faltered, and was driven back several steps, toward the windows. Obi-Wan bit his lip. He had to do something...
"No, Padawan!" Qui-Gon shouted, sensing his intent. How could he not? Obi-Wan was drawing vast amounts of the Force: pulling a raging torrent of power into the room. Qui-Gon staggered back against the wall, as Xanatos took advantage of his momentary distraction to strike his shoulder once more. But then, Xanatos flew - helpless - through the air at Obi-Wan's thought; and crashed into the wall, as Qui-Gon had done at his hands. He struggled, pinned there, gasping as the Force pressed against him, slowly crushing his chest, until his eyes bulged and he could no longer draw breath at all.
Obi-Wan flinched. What was he doing?
Again he tried to calm the flood, to withdraw, to let go the Force. Dimly he saw Xanatos drop to the floor. But he could not close off this vast torrent of the Force he had called to himself. It drew Obi-Wan's consciousness into its vastness. His senses sped outward, faster than thought, faster than light. Images flickered before him: wars, lovers, a blue-white planet exploding into a trillion fragments of glowing molten rock, almost instantly cooled in the vacuum of space. He was stretching, growing to enormous proportions: he felt his body misty like fog on the water, like clouds, like vapor; a thousand points of light: a nebula. It was too much. Light and dark danced a vortex around him: a billion souls, a trillion, all their deeds and dreams and passions. Too much. He had no eyes to close, no way to shut his mind against the flood. He screamed. With that cry of pain thought fled.