Series/Sequel: Yep, finally!~ Fifth in the 'Touch' series,
BUT! this story does stand alone as well.
Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, implied rape, a wee bit of smut; aka When
Bad Things Happen to Good Jedi
Spoilers: None for TPM, unless you know nothing about the
fellas.
Archive: OK to SWAL and Master/Apprentice; all others, please
ask.
Feedback: Yes, pretty please! On-list or privately, detailed or
short - I appreciate it, always.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em. I use them. Lots.
Summary: Didja ever notice how closely the word "padawan"
resembles the word "pawn"?
Author's Notes: Well, this one is an actual *lengthy* story,
complete with plot. <g> Thanks to RinaSHW for letting me
borrow her name (thereby making her a virtual character!). When
you see *, it denotes emphasis/italics; // sets aside the
thoughts of a particular character.
Qui-Gon Jinn looked up, squinting. A light rain misted down
from the sky, wetting his face and hair. He tasted the
strangely bitter moisture on his lips as he trudged up a steep,
stony path with Obi-Wan Kenobi at his left side, grunting with
effort.
"Another trip through the wilderness, Master," Obi-Wan
observed. "It seems we are destined to travel only to worlds
without comfortable beds and hot meals."
"And what use does a Jedi have for a comfortable bed, Padawan?"
Qui-Gon questioned softly. He was rewarded with a knowing grin
from his apprentice, answering the amusement sparkling in his
own eyes as they rested on the younger man. "I'm afraid there
will be no amenities here, Obi-Wan. The Echuro people have no
need of creature comforts. Their habitats are sparse, and they
sleep in deep holes."
"Have they no structures?" Obi-Wan sounded resigned to sleeping
in mud.
"A few. I'm sure they'll provide suitable quarters for
emissaries from the Senate."
"Let us hope so." Obi-Wan's words were deep with meaning. He
felt a gentle touch to his mind, a subtle signal his Master
shared his hopes. After relishing the contact for a moment, he
continued, "Do you think these people can be reasoned with?"
"It's hard to say." Qui-Gon considered the question. "They
control five worlds in the Echuro system through the use of
smuggling. Corellian pirates run many of their routes. It makes
them powerful, and they seek to be more so. We must find a way
to persuade them to confine their activities to their own
sector, and not expand into nearby systems, or the Senate will
sanction these worlds."
"It could lead to armed conflict between systems when supplies
dwindle," Obi-Wan said, stating the conclusion they had been
sent to prevent.
Qui-Gon nodded. "The Echuro strongly resent outside influence.
These people are natural telepaths, and largely immune to mind
manipulation. They can easily read most sentient beings -
including a Jedi. You must bring your training into focus, to
guard against their tricks," he warned, slipping easily into
the familiar role of teacher. "If we are to have any advantage,
they must not know our thoughts. You recall our discussion?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan cast a sidelong glance at the taller man
walking in step with him. Boundaries, indeed. So much had
changed between them since their mission on Bachuca Erodon.
Obi-Wan felt as though he were riding the crest of a storm, one
which shifted violently every few moments, bringing moments of
terror in tandem with sheer beauty. Their relationship
contained so much that was unexpected, and so new, that Obi-Wan
felt breathless with discovery at every nuance of his Master's
body language, every careless gesture, every movement of his
eyes. It was strange to understand that after so many years
together, a new journey could be begun.
It seemed almost impossible to stand next to this powerful,
silent man and not betray an inkling of what was between them.
Of all the teachings Obi-Wan was mindful of, this was the most
important. He had given Qui-Gon his understanding and his word,
and he meant to keep it.
Qui-Gon stopped and turned to Obi-Wan, bringing his wise,
knowing gaze to bear on his apprentice, and Obi-Wan suddenly
realized that his Master had understood the undercurrent of
feeling, if not the actual thoughts, he'd just been pondering.
Qui-Gon touched his palm to Obi-Wan's cheek, stroking with his
thumb, feeling the hot flush of self-recrimination there.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Padawan," Qui-Gon said with a
slight smile. "It's difficult for me, as well."
"I'll try harder, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly.
Qui-Gon nodded, pleased, and dropped his hand, which still
seemed to burn against Obi-Wan's chilled skin. The Master Jedi
then turned back to the path and continued on. Obi-Wan shivered
with desire, took a deep breath to clear his mind, and climbed
after his Master.
It took two more hours of solid exertion before they were able
to scale the ridge atop the valley where the Echuro city was
situated. They stopped to take in their surroundings. The
valley was the lush, dense green of a tropical forest, dewy and
somewhat murky beneath the foliage. A few dark structures, low
to the ground and well-concealed by overgrowth, were centered
inside the miniature forest. Flickering light from an
occasional torch caught the eye before being obscured by dark
shapes moving about.
The two Jedi exchanged a look of silent agreement as they began
their descent toward the village. The place seemed to scream of
danger. Best to be on their guard. They passed a tiny landing
field which was not apparent from above, on which sat three
spacecraft; two Republican shuttles and one Corellian
freighter. Qui-Gon wondered to himself how the Echuro had
acquired the shuttles. Perhaps the situation was more complex
than first believed. If a black market had already sprung up in
this system, the Senate would have to take strong measures,
measures with which a Jedi could not interfere.
A sudden crashing through the undergrowth caused the two men to
turn in perfect unison, cloaks swinging behind them, hands on
the hilts of their lightsabers. They were like mirror images of
one another, the same alert but calm expression on their faces.
Eight Echuro with torches were approaching them, led by two
more with empty hands. The Echuro were dark-skinned, somewhat
muddy, a bit scaly and a little furry, and exuded waves of
psychic energy which enveloped the Jedi from several meters
away.
Obi-Wan fought down his surprise at the unrefined, almost
seismic power which thrummed through him like muffled
percussive blasts. He concentrated on displaying the same
imperturbable expression that his Master wore on his own face.
It was impossible to tell if Qui-Gon was affected; his Master
was completely closed to him, his mind shut like a steel blast
door. They stood together, waiting motionless, until the Echuro
stopped before them.
"Greetings, Jedi. I am Chuado. This, " said the creature,
gesturing to his companion next to him, "is Ruutha."
"Greetings, Chuado, Ruutha. I am Qui-Gon Jinn. This is my
apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. As you know, we have been sent by
the Senate to discuss some matters which concern the Echuro."
"Yes, we received word today. Come, follow us." The Echuro
representatives stepped aside, creating a path straight into
the center of their escorts. Without hesitation, Qui-Gon
stepped forward and began following their guides, and as he did
so, the beings closed ranks around him, effectively separating
him from Obi-Wan, who was but a few steps behind. Qui-Gon could
sense Obi-Wan's nervousness, and could easily understand why;
the Echuro were far more mentally powerful than he had been led
to believe.
The small procession wound its way through clearings and cut
paths in the brush, before emerging into what appeared to be a
town center. A few Echuro were there engaged in trading with
assorted Humans and Corellians. One tall woman leaning in the
shadow of a rounded doorway caught Qui-Gon's eye as they
passed; she gave him a sharp, reflective look, folding her arms
across her chest. Qui-Gon felt her dark eyes on him as they
moved away. Finally the party reached an oval building, lit
from within by a warm glow, and were ushered inside.
The Echuro took their places in seats across the room, and
Qui-Gon crossed the room to stand before them, acutely
conscious of Obi-Wan at his left shoulder, as he should be.
They bowed together, and as Qui-Gon straightened, he began
speaking in low, neutral tones. "Thank you for receiving us. We
have been sent to speak with you regarding Echuro trading
practices. As you must know, profiteering is not allowed within
the Republic. The Senate hopes an agreement may be reached
which will be lucrative for both the Republic and the Echuro.
We are here to assist in this regard, and to request the Echuro
confine their activities to their own system."
Obi-Wan watched as his Master continued to speak. He focused on
Qui-Gon's lips, feeling almost hypnotized for a moment, before
he realized his Master was exerting some sort of
counter-influence on the psychic flow which continued to swirl
around them. A sudden illusion danced in Obi-Wan's mind, of his
lips crushing his Master's, taking, bruising, his tongue
tasting every corner of his Master's mouth. With a blank
countenance, Obi-Wan turned his attention to the two Echuro
leaders, who were listening intently to Qui-Gon. Nevertheless,
the image persisted in his mind, demanding his attention. He
jostled the idea until it was squashed into a far corner of his
consciousness.
"What profit is there for us in bargaining with the Senate,
Qui-Gon Jinn?" Chuado asked shrewdly. "We own this system. We
*may* own others. We control our own money. We do not need to
negotiate."
"Is there nothing you would consider? The Senate has much to
offer. Supply contracts, trade routes with worlds you have no
access to. Many things are possible." Qui-Gon's voice remained
even and reasonable. "You have but to name a point where we may
start, and we will begin our discussions."
//fingernails raking down the length of his body, leaving
scratches and deep welts, and with a howling cry he is losing
control, coming harder than he has ever come in his life, teeth
buried in his shoulder, oblivious to his shuddering shouts of
rapture//
"...their answer tomorrow." Qui-Gon was bowing low, preparing
to take his leave of the room, and Obi-Wan realized with a jolt
that he'd missed a substantial amount of the conversation -
perhaps even several minutes. Shaken, he fought off his
disorientation and belatedly bowed to the Echuro, avoiding the
look his Master gave him. He matched Qui-Gon's steps
automatically as they were escorted from the room.
Chuado and Ruutha waited until the Jedi Master and his
apprentice were quite some distance from their communal
chamber. "What did you discover?" Chuado asked eagerly.
Ruutha sent a mental picture to Chuado, answering, "The young
one is much easier to manipulate. He is strong in the Force,
but we will be able to turn that to our advantage."
"Their feelings for one another are quite strong," Chuado
mused. Ruutha sent him a questioning thought; he had not been
able to penetrate the mind of the elder Jedi, but Chuado was
much more dominant in matters of the mind. "It will be a simple
thing to use one against the other."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stepped into their designated sleeping
space and bowed slightly to the guards who escorted them. The
moment the door was secured behind them, Qui-Gon was tending to
Obi-Wan, his concern so evident in his eyes that Obi-Wan was
alarmed. His Master removed Obi-Wan's cloak and settled him on
a low chair, crouching down before him and clasping his
Padawan's hands between his own larger ones. Only then did
Obi-Wan realize two things; that he was trembling, and that he
was nearly numb with a coldness that went far beyond the
physical.
"Look at me, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice held a note of command,
of urgency.
Obi-Wan raised his head with a supreme effort. "I'm all right,
Master," he said, hearing the words ring false despite his best
attempt at sincerity.
"You're not." Qui-Gon contradicted him vehemently, still
without raising his voice. "They invaded your mind, Obi-Wan.
For a time, I lost all sense of your living presence. What did
you experience?" His fingers curled around Obi-Wan's
reassuringly.
Obi-Wan felt an urge to retreat, to crawl into bed and shut his
eyes tightly, but his Master's hands and eyes anchored him
firmly in place. Hesitantly, he answered, "I had
a...vision...of us together. We were as one, but not...not as
we usually are. More violence, more anger. I couldn't tear my
mind away, Master. It overwhelmed me."
"Do you understand that they caused this thought to appear in
your mind? It didn't come from within you, Padawan. You *must
not* let this thought disturb you." Qui-Gon leaned forward.
"They were testing you, to see how susceptible you are to their
manipulations. Because they weren't able to breach my control,
they violated yours instead. They are looking for an advantage,
Obi-Wan. You mustn't hand it to them."
"I understand, Master." His voice sounded heavy and old, too
fatigued. Even as he spoke, those large hands were undressing
him, soothing him, warming his skin, attempting to wipe away
the memory of the image which was clinging to the fringes of
Obi-Wan's thoughts. He was whisked to the larger of the two low
beds, the one doubtless intended for Qui-Gon, and wrapped
completely in blankets.
Qui-Gon touched Obi-Wan's mind very briefly, as though worried
the intrusion would be unwelcome, and delivered warm solace to
that very dark place. In answer, Obi-Wan flooded their bond
with deep gratitude, and not a little fear. Qui-Gon turned to
the holocam and made contact with the Supreme Chancellor,
quickly detailing the demands of the Echuro.
Obi-Wan listened drowsily to the details he'd missed, including
the outrageous demand that the Senate agree to allow the Echuro
to traffic their goods in any system they desired without
tariffs or restrictions. He knew this would never be permitted,
and that no matter what his Master might propose, the Echuro
would not be willing to settle this dispute. It would be the
end of their world, for the Senate would have to resort to the
drastic measure of stopping, impounding and perhaps destroying
the Echuro ships.
Qui-Gon switched off the holocam and removed his own cloak,
quickly shedding his clothes, and climbed into bed with
Obi-Wan, enfolding him in his arms. "Are you warm enough?" his
Master asked, in a voice as soothing and rich as velvet.
"Qui-Gon..."
"You're not to blame, Obi-Wan. You are tired, and in need of
rest. Tomorrow you will have another chance to test your
abilities." Qui-Gon buried his face against the nape of
Obi-Wan's neck and slowly drifted off into much-needed sleep.
Obi-Wan felt less than equal to the challenge of knighthood,
and less than equal to his Master, for the first time in quite
some time. He closed his eyes, attempting to lose himself in
sleep, but the image prevailed...
"I made contact with the Chancellor last night, and there can
be no agreement to your demands," Qui-Gon stated succinctly,
bringing the Echuro leaders up to date. "They are too sweeping,
too large in scope. Perhaps if we -"
"Just a moment, Jedi. How do we know our position was fairly
represented to the Senate? We cannot know for certain what you
discussed. We will want you to contact the Senate again, to be
more persuasive. This world will be under a communications
disruption this day for..." Chuado hesitated, "...certain
reasons. Therefore you will make our appeal tonight."
"There is nothing more to be said, Chuado." Qui-Gon was firm.
Obi-Wan felt his Master warning him, with a subtle gesture,
that he should be ready.
"That is your opinion, Jedi." Chuado made a gesture with his
wrist.
Qui-Gon immediately drew his lightsaber, and was pleased to see
Obi-Wan draw his as well. The beams of blue and green arced and
sizzled as they sprang into life. Chuado stood, and an immense,
deep humming noise began to fill the chamber.
The light from the Jedi weapons died away, leaving the Jedi
holding the hafts of their weapons, useless. Qui-Gon felt
Obi-Wan summoning the Force to move objects, presumably their
captors, and stopped him with a touch to the sleeve of his
cloak.
Chuado continued as if there had been no interruption of any
kind. "Therefore, we have determined that one of you will
remain with our guards as hostage. To ensure, of course, only
that our side is...fairly represented... during your next
communication with the Senate."
Before Qui-Gon could reply, Obi-Wan stepped smoothly in front
of him. "Then I will be the one," he said. His voice was
strong, and his posture without tension. "My Master must
negotiate, as I do not have full authority to make such
decisions at the present time. I will remain here with you."
Qui-Gon's hand closed on his shoulder. "My Padawan is correct -
he does not have the authority to decide such things. Including
what role he will play in negotiations." Obi-Wan heard the
rebuke, but made no move to step aside. "I will remain with you
until my apprentice contacts Coruscant tonight."
Chuado looked from one to the other for a long moment, weighing
the value of each man as hostage. The younger man's feelings
were pure, and so easy to read; he was ready to die for his
Master, and stepped forward to defend him as might be
predicted. Though not his decision to make, it was the correct
one, and one his Master should have agreed to for the sake of
their mission. On the other hand, although the Master Jedi was
outwardly calm, he had committed a crucial error - the Padawan
could not negotiate on behalf of the Senate. And so Chuado
understood -- his Master was trying to save his apprentice from
any further danger.
"Take the boy," Chuado ordered.
Qui-Gon felt his heart lurch sideways in his chest as Obi-Wan
was dragged from beneath Qui-Gon's hand. Qui-Gon could not take
his eyes off his apprentice as he was led away. There was a
peaceful air about him, almost contented, and Qui-Gon knew
there was nothing the younger man would not gladly suffer to
make certain his Master would remain safe.
"You may move freely about our city, Master Jedi. But do not
attempt any foolish heroics. Or we will make him suffer. Go
now," Chuado ordered.
Qui-Gon walked from the room, his mind following Obi-Wan in the
opposite direction, clinging tenuously to the threads of their
contact even with the dreadful psychic interference from the
Echuro. If he were going to save his Padawan, he must maintain
contact. It was their only hope.
Qui-Gon purposefully wandered the streets of the small city in
the late morning light, a part of his mind actively searching
for Obi-Wan's familiar thought patterns. In such a small place,
he would have thought it difficult to hide anything or anyone
for long, especially after Qui-Gon brought the living Force to
bear on these people. Every face he saw, every resident, was
just another closed door. The radiation of the energy of their
collective minds was wearing on him, as he fought to maintain
control even as he lowered his defenses to find Obi-Wan.
He made his way over to the small hangar adjoining the landing
pad, not quite certain what he was searching for, but trusting
the Force to guide him. The two Republican shuttles were gone.
Only the freighter he'd seen the day before remained. Qui-Gon
studied it, wondering if he had the necessary skills to fly it
if the occasion arose. The ship was Corellian, in remarkably
good condition for a freighter so old. It had been many years
since Qui-Gon had any need to pilot a craft - Obi-Wan had
proven a remarkably able pilot these last few years, although
not good enough to turn his head away from the important
lessons of his training.
As he walked around the perimeter of the craft, Qui-Gon heard a
woman's laughter, and the raised voices of men. A few more
steps brought the picture into focus. Several people were
engaged in a game of chance over a crate of parts and supplies
upended into a makeshift table. As he watched, the crowd
cleared slightly and he recognized the tall, dark-haired woman
he'd seen the previous night. She was seated at the end of the
crate, a wicked gleam in her eyes, and was in the process of
slamming down an assortment of cards and paraphernalia used in
the game she was playing. A collective groan went out from the
assembled players as she reached over and collected her money.
As Qui-Gon watched her, she turned her head and looked directly
at him with no sign of recognition. After a long moment, she
turned back to her game and said something Qui-Gon couldn't
hear, which produced staccato laughter, then rose easily and
walked away, toward the rear of her ship. Qui-Gon followed her,
noting that she was walking well away from the motley crowd
still engrossed in the game. She disappeared into an access
tunnel, and Qui-Gon followed her.
She was waiting near the entrance, leaning against the wall.
"Are you lost, or just plain crazy?" she asked, regarding him
curiously.
"Neither, I'm afraid," Qui-Gon answered, with a ghost of a
smile creeping around his lips at the bravado in her tone.
With a quick glance from head to toe, she took his measure.
"What's a Jedi Knight doing out here in the middle of nowhere?
You can't be interested in the smuggling...too small-time."
"Unfortunately, the Senate doesn't think so." Qui-Gon watched
her soak up the impact of his words, liking her more each
moment.
"I didn't know a bunch of smugglers could have such an impact
on the Republic," she said sarcastically. "What's your name?"
"Qui-Gon Jinn."
Without reaching out a hand to him, she introduced herself.
"Rina." Another long pause, and she asked, "Where's your
friend, the one you came with?"
"He's being held hostage by the Echuro." He saw the subtle
flicker of sympathy run across her face, and that decided
things for him. "Will you help us get out of here?"
"Depends. Can you pay?" Her tone was utterly mercenary,
calculated.
"Yes. Once we reach Coruscant. Until then, a voucher for thirty
thousand Republic credits." Qui-Gon produced it from his belt.
Rina studied it, looked him in the eye, and thought a moment.
"All right. But you're not going to have an easy time of it. I
can get you off this world, but these people have a way of
manipulating people's thoughts. I bet they have you thinking
your sabers don't work, right?"
Qui-Gon regarded her with genuine surprise. "Why?"
"It's a trick they do. I've seen them convince people blaster
holes as wide as my arm weren't there. I don't know how." Rina
shrugged. "Not my problem. But they *do* work. Just some
friendly advice."
"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, fairly certain she was telling the
truth.
Rina's features hardened. "Sure. You're a paying customer,
right?" She pushed off from the wall she was leaning against
and added, "When should I expect you?"
"Late this evening. They'll expect me to contact the Senate
after sunset."
Rina nodded once. "I'll be ready."
//*"Surrender."*//
//"Master, no..."//
//*"Give in to me, Obi-Wan. Or I will make you suffer for
it."*//
//"You're not my Master!"//
Obi-Wan thrashed violently on the floor of his room. Ruutha
leaned over him, a profuse sweat breaking out all over his
body, as he concentrated eagerly on the drama he was projecting
into the young man's subconscious. The boy had been a difficult
subject, no doubt, but it was worth it just to see him
squirming there, helpless in the throes of his mental agony.
There was so much pleasure to be gained from one so young,
whose emotions ran so fearlessly...
//Strong arms pressed him down...the smell of sweat and sex was
strong, and he cried out as he felt the pain, and anger which
welled through him, and the betrayal so immense he could barely
comprehend it...his Master spit his hatred into him, hurting
him, enraging him, making his soul cry out. Intense anguish and
distress saturated his mind, as the breach of faith was
completed. He howled, unprotected, useless...and felt his heart
flying from him...//
Qui-Gon fell to the ground, astonished at the energy which had
wrought the mental scream which had torn through him. With
great difficulty, his mental shields already eroded, he picked
himself up, already sure the plea had come from Obi-Wan. He
lowered every defense he had remaining and reached out with the
skill and training of the greatest warrior the Council had ever
known, bringing the Force to bear on the cry he'd heard.
There was nothing there.
Incredulous, he hastily raised his defenses, agitated by his
failure. Soon, it would be too late. There was only one chance,
and he hoped his instincts had not failed him there as well.
"So, Master Jedi. Here you are at last. Do you bring news from
the Senate?" Ruutha blocked Qui-Gon from seeing inside the
room, as his guards swarmed around him.
"No, Ruutha. You have had your answer. I did not bring your
concerns before them again. It would only hasten a dangerous
conclusion to this situation." Qui-Gon spoke the truth, in such
a regretful tone that Ruutha was taken aback, and looked to
Chuado for assistance.
"Not acceptable, Jedi! Do you want your apprentice to suffer
for your mistakes??"
"He already has," Qui-Gon said, in a tone that should have been
vague but which carried a silken threat, and a promise. *"Where
is he?"*
"There is your apprentice, Jedi," Ruutha said scornfully. He
stepped aside and gestured to the dirt floor in front of the
throne.
Obi-Wan lay sprawled across the steps leading to the dais,
unconscious. Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of silent relief to see
that there were no visible injuries, but immediately became
aware there was something much more seriously wrong with his
young apprentice. Qui-Gon reached out directly with the Force
and felt the resonance of anguish which permeated Obi-Wan's
mind. Obi-Wan's unique mental "voice" had been stilled, through
what means Qui-Gon could only guess.
Qui-Gon felt a rage rising in him, a deadly rage so strong and
white-hot he was barely able to control it. He summoned every
ounce of concentration and discipline he possessed, and still
it was not enough. Noise seemed to fill his ears, becoming a
roaring chaos in his mind. All he could hope for was marginal
control over his reaction, so that his captors might never
know. Still, something immense and dark flickered in his eyes
for a moment, before he squashed it savagely, as one might
pinch out a candle flame.
"Now you will bargain." Ruutha's voice held a note of supreme
satisfaction. With a smug expression on his mud-colored face,
he asked, "Shall we once again begin negotiations?"
"No," Qui-Gon answered, "we will not." A muscle twitched once
in the tall Jedi's cheek, then was still. "I have given you the
answer of the Senate. There is no point in further debate. I
have no power to promise more." His eyes met Ruutha's, and were
completely devoid of emotion. "You have set yourself on the
path to your world's destruction."
Ruutha snarled and tensed to pounce. "Reconsider, Jedi, and we
will spare him."
Qui-Gon was reaching with the Force, tendrils of it slipping
out from him like tentative rays of light, seeping into corners
and crevasses, spilling into every space in the room. This
delicate web of energy stretched like an invisible lace
blanket, weaving stealthily across his Padawan, lingering but a
moment there before continuing on. He closed his eyes, willing
himself to see only what existed, and not the illusion which
was created for him. He focused narrowly on the two things most
important in the room - his Padawan, and his lightsaber.
With a sudden, blindingly fast motion, Qui-Gon had his
lightsaber in his hand, poised to strike, and he cut down,
expecting that it would work. Ruutha screeched in pain as the
saber cut across his throat and shoulder, a wound designed not
to kill, but to incapacitate. At the same time, Qui-Gon raised
Obi-Wan from the floor with the power of the Force, guiding him
quickly toward the open doorway.
The power of a thousand minds slammed into Qui-Gon. He shut
down as much as he could, focusing on rescuing Obi-Wan from the
hell he was in. A sudden high-pitched explosion nearly broke
his concentration, until he recognized Rina, crouched in the
doorway and firing a blaster with deadly accuracy, picking off
the Echuro one by one. "Hurry!" she shouted, backing up one
step with each shot. Qui-Gon ran to Obi-Wan's form, suspended
in mid-air, and slung the body over his shoulder, confident he
wasn't hurting the physical form. He followed Rina through the
deserted streets, feeling himself grow weaker against the
mental assault by the Echuro, but rigid for his Padawan's sake,
feeling he might die before they reached her ship.
Rina had moved her freighter into a nearby clearing, much
closer than Qui-Gon anticipated. Under the cover of her blaster
fire, he boarded and found a hard bench where he could gently
leave his precious cargo, before turning back to the door. Rina
had already come up the ramp and sealed the door, headed for
the cockpit. "Better sit and strap in!" she shouted, before
disappearing down a curving corridor.
Qui-Gon did exactly as she suggested, throwing a belt around
Obi-Wan before strapping in himself. The ship rose powerfully
from the tropical wasteland, turning in the sky and soon
breaking free of the planet's atmosphere. The force of leaving
the planet's gravity drove Qui-Gon back into his seat, but
eased as soon as they cleared orbit. Qui-Gon threw off the
straps and went to Obi-Wan, who breathed but did not stir. Free
of the Echuro influences, Qui-Gon reached out to touch
Obi-Wan's mind...
...and was thrown back, with a primal fear he had never thought
to encounter in his Padawan. Stunned, he knelt beside the
bench, looking at the haggard but beloved face of his
apprentice.
And wondered if he would ever know happiness again.
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