Master Apprentice
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(continued from part 3)
Mekall adjusted the com so that he could hear Obi-Wan from any room he went into. First he retreated to the galley. He had meant to clean up, but found there was no need. Obi-Wan had figured out the sani-unit and done the dishes. Mekall was not particularly hungry. Something, though. He rifled the food lockers searching for some of the Alderaanian chocolate Hilty kept secreted somewhere in there. Ah, success, he smiled. Turning off the lights and the com, he headed for the other end of the house to put in some time in the workshop.
In the shop, he switched on the com, booted up the system and sifted through his to do pile. Jedi bounty hunters, neglected friends and broken promises tried to crowd his thoughts. What did Tallo know and how did he know it? Had Lure read the information that Yls had left? Is that what he meant when he said he didn't want to know? When was Hilty due back? Mekall had lost track of how many days had passed.
Finding what he was looking for, he put the rest of it aside along with all the questions that wanted answering. Hells with it. Hells with all of it, Mekall thought, directing his focus where he wanted it rather than where it wanted to go. He was soon immersed in the work, brow furrowed in concentration, one hand flying over the numberboard of his datapad, the other melting a chunk of the imported delicacy, on which he was occasionally gnawing.
When Mekall looked up, Obi-Wan was standing in the doorway, head cocked to one side.
"Any luck?" Mekall asked, to cover the fact that he had nearly jumped out of his skin at seeing the tawny-haired man. He had shut his mind so tightly against distraction, he had not felt Obi-Wan awaken.
"Mm. A bit. A marble chamber. Some sort of a meeting place. A tall man with long hair. A short, well, not a man, he's green, with enormous ears. The robes again. Something religious, or like it. And traffic. Endless streams of traffic. Seems an odd contrast, doesn't it?"
"Maybe not where you're from," Mekall suggested, keeping any reaction from showing in his face.
"Yes . . ." Obi-Wan acquiesced, entering the workshop. Meditation had again brought him enormous calm. It also served to increase exponentially the feeling that the answer to the riddle that was currently his life was the man standing in front of him with something unidentifiable all over his hand. However, he found when he got close to Mekall questioning him about it was not what he wanted to do.
"I was worried you'd chew your finger off," Obi-Wan said, moving purposefully into Mekall's space.
"Hm?" Mekall queried with no idea what Obi-Wan meant.
Obi-Wan nodded at Mekall's hand. Mekall looked down.
"What is that?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Chocolate. From Alderaan. Sweets, you know? Believe me," Mekall smiled devilishly, "if you'd ever had it, you'd remember."
Mekall raised his thumb and finger toward his mouth. No sense wasting it.
Obi-Wan reached out with lightning reflexes, detouring the hand from its destination and bringing it instead to rest before his own lips. He executed a calculated pause, then drew the tip of Mekall's finger slowly into his mouth. He worked his lips carefully down to its base. Mekall stood paralyzed by the instantly amplified power of the attraction. Obi-Wan moved on to the thumb and then the other three fingers although they barely had any chocolate on them, surrendering himself to the feeling of the gaping holes in his mind and his soul being filled.
Mekall stared into Obi-Wan's eyes which had not left his. Down to his last finger, Obi-Wan held Mekall's pinkie expectantly between his own first finger and thumb. One beat passed before Mekall leaned in and took Obi-Wan's lips, extending his tongue into Obi-Wan's willing mouth, tasting Obi-Wan and chocolate and a hint of himself as Obi-Wan maneuvered him against the worktable. Mekall abandoned himself to a suspension of reason, the need for completion blotting out all else. He had to have Obi-Wan's tongue, his lips, his breath.
The release of giving in to the compulsion annihilated the existence of anything else in the galaxy. Each was lost in his desire for the other. Mekall's body led where his mind did not want to go; Obi-Wan's body went where his mind could not. Minutes passed like heated hours but at last a tiny corner of Mekall's mind which was still operating independently of his lust managed to take command.
"No," he gasped, pressing his palm hard against Obi-Wan's chest. "Stop."
Obi-Wan opened stunned eyes. Mekall slid over and away.
"Why?" Obi-Wan almost begged. "What - Why?"
"Don't," was all Mekall managed as he avoided the Jedi's hurt look and went out the door. "I won't," Mekall's voice faded down the hall. "We can't."
Obi-Wan stared into the empty hallway. The calming breath he meant to take turned into a tremor of cold and confusion. What had he done wrong?
A second breath came more easily. It was clear Mekall was as drawn to him as he was to Mekall. Everything else seemed like he was more or less traveling in a fog. That had been real and it was his whether his previous life ever came back to him or not. He had to talk to Mekall. Did he think he was taking advantage of him because of his memory loss?
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Mekall said.
"That's what you said last night." Obi-Wan protested.
"You - I can't. I - The b -" Mekall expelled a breath of futility and sat down on his bed as though it took the last of his strength. "Your - It's . . ." he covered his face with his hands. "Obi-Wan," Mekall explained, "the man you saw in your meditation was your master. You're an apprentice to a Jedi."
It was silent while Obi-Wan tried to fathom the meaning of the information. "Master," he repeated.
"Yes," Mekall confirmed.
"Jedi."
"Yeah."
"Master," Obi-Wan practically whispered as he weakly made his way over to a chair. He had expected hearing the truth to have some resonance. It meant nothing to him and that was devastating.
"Master," he breathed, seeming to be vanishing into himself.
"Obi-Wan? " Mekall asked, going over to him. Obi-Wan was pale and shaking. He looked as if he might be going into shock.
"I . . ." Obi-Wan said. "It doesn't . . . "
"I didn't think it would," Mekall told him. "If it doesn't come from you, it's not going to make sense. I could tell you anything."
"You could tell me the truth," Obi-Wan said resentfully.
"I did," Mekall assured him without pleasure.
Obi-Wan could see in Mekall's eyes that he had. It shook him to his core. "I have to think," he said. "I have to . . . " Obi-Wan repeated as he disappeared through the door.
Mekall was about to go after him, but changed his mind. It's not like I'm doing him a lot of good, he told himself. Mekall took the chair Obi-Wan had occupied and kept an ear open while he tried to figure out how to deal with where this was leading.
It was late when he heard Obi-Wan come upstairs and go into the spare room.
"Do you need anything?" Mekall called out.
Receiving no answer, Mekall went into the other bedroom. Obi-Wan was sprawled out on the bed on his back.
"Obi-Wan," Mekall approached with caution.
"Don't Jedis have sex?" Obi-Wan slurred.
"You're drunk." Mekall could not restrain a laugh.
"You think?" the Jedi replied with a crooked grin.
Fine example I set, Mekall thought.
"So, you going to answer the question?" Obi-Wan asked as he managed to get himself into something like a sitting position.
"You tell me," Mekall said. "You're the Jedi."
"'Prentice," Obi-Wan corrected him. "Well?"
"Some Jedi do. At least, that's what people say."
"But not me."
Mekall smiled apologetically. "It wouldn't be right, Obi-Wan. Everything is too unsettled."
"What if I didn't think so? What if I know exactly what I'm doing?" Obi-Wan asked, losing his balance while trying to sit up further and falling over sideways.
The absurdity of the contradiction made Mekall chuckle.
"Yeah, Obi-Wan, you know exactly what you're doing," he said.
"I do," came Obi-Wan's muffled response. He had tried to flip onto his back, gotten his directions muddled and ended up prone, protesting into the pillows.
Mekall waited for a further protest. None was forthcoming. After a little while, he concluded Obi-Wan had fallen asleep. Mekall walked over to the bed. He traced his fingers over Obi-Wan's back with a tired sigh at the spark of interest it stirred.
This was going to do him in. He had survived privation, wars, dealing for years in space most beings wouldn't go anywhere near; he had been beaten, tortured, shot and everything in between. Raised into a mistake, he had survived the depths of Coruscant and overcome whatever had been thrown in his path. Now he was being undone by one young man, who had been in his house for a week and had wormed his way into his life and his mind as no one ever had. Where could this possibly end up? Nowhere good, he thought, nowhere good.
Mekall turned Obi-Wan over. With a staunch grip on his control, he got him out of his clothes, into a sleep shirt and under the covers. He went down to the study, poured himself a drink in the glass Obi-Wan had used, then placed the bottle back in the bar. He must have drifted off, because the next thing Mekall was aware of was the sound of Obi-Wan making his way to the 'fresher.
Mekall went upstairs and knelt with Obi-Wan while he voided the contents of his stomach, rubbing his back without knowing he was doing so. When it was over, Obi-Wan barely had the strength left to stand. Mekall helped him back to bed. There he used a Force suggestion to put him to sleep and spent another few minutes encouraging Obi-Wan's body to work quickly through the worst of rest of the results of his experiment with inebriation.
Once he was in there, Mekall decided to eliminate their earlier encounter and its aftermath. Telling Obi-Wan he was a Jedi had been an act of desperation. Mekall was beginning to wonder if the younger man's entire memory would ever reassert. Subtle hinting had not produced results. At the end of his tether, Mekall had tried a deliberate shove tonight. He could not abide seeing Obi-Wan in the kind of pain he had caused him. If the Jedi was going to remember, it would have to come from within.
Mekall brought the chair over to the window. Good thing I wasn't planning to be a father, he mused, as he ruminated on two far distant moons and one too close Jedi. Next thing he knew, it was morning.
He heard Lure pilot into the hangar and enter the workshop a few minutes later. He listened as Lure booted up the system in there, which spoke to Lure in his own voice as Mekall had programmed it to do. That was followed by the familiar hiss of Lure flushing out the compressors as he did every morning. The routine normalcy allowed Mekall to drag himself from his seat. He went into the 'fresher and then to his own room to ready himself for the day.
Mekall joined Lure in the shop and they got to work. If this was the way things were now - and Mekall had begun to get used to the notion that he could not just make the Jedi disappear - then he had to get on with life as usual.
Obi-Wan woke unsure how he felt about finding himself in the spare room bed. As with the day before, the last thing he remembered was meditating. That had brought back some additional flashes of memory. He was grateful for that, no matter how small they were. Anything was progress.
There was not much else to be grateful for about the way he was feeling. He was chilled to the bone, his head was splitting and his stomach felt as if someone had spent the night jumping around inside it in very pointy boots. He used the 'fresher and found clothes in Mekall's room. Looking in the mirror in there, he replaited his braid, but decided to leave the knight's tail unbound.
Between the slivers of memory and a second night of having an incredibly erotic dream about Mekall, there was a lot to think about. He settled himself on the floor in his room to meditate but the attempt did not last. He was restless and sick, and something else that remained just out of his reach was wrong.
Hearing Lure in the galley, Obi-Wan went downstairs. He was not hungry, but Lure insisted he eat. Mekall came in as he munched halfheartedly on a slice of toasted bread.
"Morning," Mekall greeted him.
"Morning."
"I thought you were still asleep."
"Couldn't."
"Are you okay?" Mekall asked. Obi-Wan was paler than usual.
Obi-Wan looked at him, working on forming a civil answer. "I've been better," he managed finally.
"You look like I felt yesterday," Mekall confided.
"If this is how you felt," Obi-Wan deadpanned, "you have my belated but sincere sympathies."
Mekall smiled. "Why do you think I was meditating for so long?"
"Did it help?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Eventually," Mekall told him. "Want to try?"
Obi-Wan shook his head no. "I did, upstairs. Made it worse."
"Maybe if we try it together," Mekall suggested.
They adjourned to the study. Mekall wended his way into Obi-Wan's meditation to alleviate the remainder of his hangover symptoms, leaving Obi-Wan free to work on what he really needed to. Mekall did not meditate long himself. Among other things, he did not feel like thinking. Besides, it had developed a nasty habit of leading them to jump one another.
Leaving the com open, Mekall went to the shop. The study did not feel safe. Of course, the workshop did not feel safe to him after last night either but it had the security of Lure being there. Mekall called Yls to invite him over for the evening. Things stood less chance of getting out of hand if he was not alone with the Jedi.
Obi-Wan came into the shop after a short time. He felt less ill, but his meditation had not led to anything.
Mekall sensed Obi-Wan's dissatisfaction from across the room. "What is it?" he asked.
"I don't know, which is beginning to drive me crazy," Obi-Wan replied. "And don't tell me to take it easy, all right?"
"All right," Mekall appeased. "Anyway, I have an idea."
"Another idea?"
Mekall smiled tightly, enjoying the sarcasm. "Come with me."
He took Obi-Wan back into the study, turned on the terminal in there and gave him a quick primer on how to get onto the 'net. He showed him a few reference sources and left Obi-Wan to his own devices.
Let him explore, Mekall thought, go where his interests lead him. Maybe that will kick start his memory. But if he doesn't begin to remember soon, what the hells am I going to do with him?
The day passed. The three men ate midmeal together, Obi-Wan too absorbed by his new pursuit to pay attention to much else and Mekall fighting the bonding impulse with all the self-control at his disposal.
In the afternoon, they took Obi-Wan out to show him the grounds. Obi-Wan stayed out there to take a walk while Mekall and Lure returned to work. When he came back into the house, he went back on line.
Mekall let Obi-Wan keep at it after Lure departed, waiting to serve nightmeal until Yls showed up. After they had eaten, Obi-Wan wanted to go back on the 'net. Yls and Mekall chatted while Obi-Wan continued his research. He was still reading voraciously. Like a good little padawan sponge, Mekall thought tartly, then got exasperated with himself for thinking it.
"How are you holding up?" Yls asked, after drinks had been poured.
Mekall smiled an odd smile. "How do you think?"
"Hard to tell from looking. You look all right."
"Looks can be deceiving."
"He seems better."
Mekall snorted disagreement. "I told him he's a Jedi last night," he informed the healer.
Yls nearly choked on his cheroot. "You -"
"It doesn't mean a thing to him."
"Why did you tell him?"
"I was too tired to lie."
Yls exhaled in disdain.
"Look," Mekall revised, "I didn't know what to say. He backed me into a corner. Literally. I barely - " Mekall stopped, unwilling to tell Yls how close he had come to losing control. "I actually thought it might help," he explained. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't remember. I wiped it out later."
Yls looked at him icily. "He's grasping for a lifeline. You're the only thing that feels right or even sane about most of what he's seen or heard since he woke up. You shouldn't take advantage of that."
"Take advan -" Mekall stood up, incensed. "He -"
Obi-Wan turned around to see what had caused the outburst.
Mekall reined himself in and sat down. Obi-Wan turned back to the computer.
"He doesn't know why you feel like sanity. He only knows that you do," Yls stated.
"I know."
"He doesn't know why he feels better when he's with you, he only knows that he does."
"I heard you," Mekall ground out.
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"I want to tell him about the bond."
"No. That's not a good idea. How would you like to be under the compulsion of some force over which you have no control?"
Mekall glared at him.
"That's different," Yls told him.
"How?"
They lapsed into a tense silence.
Yls got up to see what Obi-Wan was doing. The Jedi wanted to go up to his room, so Yls showed him how to download. Obi-Wan went to the galley while waiting for the computer to finish.
"He's really settling in," Yls attempted to bridge the rift.
"And that's a good thing?" Mekall shot back.
"At least think about it before you make a decision," Yls requested. "Promise me you'll really think about it. All of it. Implications, repercussions -"
"All right," Mekall agreed before he could finish.
Obi-Wan came back in, picked up the handheld and bid them goodnight. Yls said he would go up with him.
Mekall poured himself a drink and got out the bonding documents. He was almost sure he intended to tell Obi-Wan about it, but he would do as Yls had asked. In the meantime, he had plenty he did not know about soul bonds himself.
"How is everything?" Yls asked Obi-Wan.
"If I said confusing, would you think I was boring?" he replied, taking off his shirt.
"No," Yls smiled, "repetitive maybe, but not boring."
Obi-Wan lay back on the bed so that Yls could examine him.
"Is he always like that?" Obi-Wan asked, after a few minutes of letting Yls work.
"Always," Yls responded facetiously early. "Like what?"
Obi-Wan almost smiled. "How long have you known him?"
"A hundred years or so," Yls quipped. "Oh, let me see," he revised, "as long as he's been on Larral. Four or five years now."
"How long have you been on Larral?"
"Eight years next hot season," Yls said.
"Do you mind if I ask why?" Obi-Wan asked.
Yls smiled. It was a natural enough question from any humanoid who had spent any length of time on this ball of dirt. "I never meant to stay. Once you get used to it, there's a kind of freedom to the place," he explained.
"Is that why he's here?"
"In a way. Mekall's here because there was no place farther away to go."
"From Coruscant."
Yls stopped to look at him. "He told you that?" he asked. Mekall told almost no-one where he was from. It was too likely to raise the 'ever met a Jedi?' question.
"That he was raised there. That his parents died when he was young."
Interesting, Yls thought. Trying to supply little pieces that might spark his memory. Especially when they were so far from what Mekall usually spoke to anyone about and so close to opening old wounds. That was something Mekall did not do. That past was a closed chapter.
"You seem to be back in one piece," Yls said as he finished the exam and began putting his instruments into his bag.
"Almost," Obi-Wan replied, the healer's conclusion grating on his nerves. Back in one piece? How much further from in one piece could he get and still be in one piece?
"It's only been a couple of days, Obi-Wan," Yls told him. "You really need to -"
"Give it more time," Obi-Wan cut him off testily, getting up from the bed. He would have left the room, but there was nowhere to go. He settled for turning his back on the healer. They were all part of it, whatever it was. He was completely at their mercy.
"I understand. It's hard," Yls tried to console him.
"You don't. I wish you would stop saying you do. Unless, have you ever lost your memory?"
Yls had not, but saying so would not help matters.
"I didn't think so," Obi-Wan said. "Get out."
Yls finished putting his things back into his bag and left without another word.
Yls stopped in the study on his way out. "Back at it, I see," he said.
"Yeah," Mekall responded, "I thought I might try it sober and see if any more of it stuck."
Yls' snort of appreciation led Mekall to raise his attention from the reading.
"Temper is short upstairs," Yls commented.
"He's been like that all day," Mekall said. "I don't know how much more of this either of us is going to be able to take."
Yls looked at his friend in commiseration.
"If you start feeling sorry for me," Mekall warned him, with something like a grin, "I'm going to take you out. I won't think twice about it."
Yls laughed at Mekall's threat and got himself ready to leave.
Obi-Wan battled a strong impulse to go downstairs with deepening feelings of distrust. If Mekall was interfering with him, a trip downstairs insured another lost night. He would somehow maneuver him into meditation and Obi-Wan would wake in one bed or the other with a hard-on and some new malady. Not again.
He had looked up his symptoms. Amnesia was the word for it. The med sites he had accessed went into extensive detail but what it came down was that it generally passed in a fairly short time. Knowing that was not helping right now. What had happened to him? The longer he was awake without his memory, the more anxious he was becoming.
He sat briefly, then got up and began to pace.
It kept happening: the sense that he was drowning in something he could not identify. The only thing that alleviated it was being with Mekall. Some part of him knew that was not right. There was something, someone else. That felt more real than ever, but, like a phantom, it disappeared when he tried to focus on it. Part of him did not want to care. A larger part knew he had to, that it meant something that the closer he got to answers, the the more afraid he became.
When Obi-Wan did not come downstairs, Mekall delved back into the reading. The more he read, the more the new dichotomy between his intellect and his emotions made sense to him. Not that that got him anywhere. Experiencing all these feelings was useless in his estimation.
The past two nights had been exceedingly trying. When he let go, they tumbled into dangerous abandon. When he dug in and stopped it, he ended up hurting Obi-Wan and feeling like a bastard.
They could not go on the way they were going. Obi-Wan might not have all his wits about him, but he would have to be a fool not to have picked up on some of what was happening. He was certainly no fool. His increasing irritability told Mekall he too was beginning to fray around the edges.
Mekall had a lot of stamina, but this was grinding him down. The whole point of bringing the Jedi to consciousness had been to stop an inevitable slide which they were now sliding headlong into anyway.
For years, Mekall had not given up one iota of control he did not have to. Not to anyone, not even Hilty. Not since he had learned that allowing other people to run your life was a virulent, costly privilege of a chosen few.
The Jedi. It always came back around to the Jedi. But Obi-Wan was not like that, was not like them. He's at the mercy of what he is just as much as I am, Mekall thought.
Or is he? Obviously it's not his fault, but if he hadn't been on Kiradian . . . if his master had been just a few minutes faster . . .
Mekall tossed the papers he had been reading at the floor.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He listened as Obi-Wan paced for a few minutes then he heard him settle. Mekall used the Force to put him to sleep. I'm not taking any chances tonight, he thought, then realized what he was doing. He stood, started out of the room, stopped and turned around. His fists clenched. He had an almost overpowering urge to smash something to pieces. If he lost control now, all was lost. He was not going to let that happen.
This is over, he thought. That is it. Obi-Wan deserves the truth. Both of us deserve the right to make an informed decision. No more fumbling in the dark.
Mekall began to gather the papers together to put them away.
Mekall got up early and was in the study, almost finished with his reading, by the time Lure arrived for work.
Lure looked confounded by seeing him.
"Give me a break, Lu," Mekall joked. "It hasn't been that long since we had a regular morning."
"Maybe from where you're sitting," the Niadan informed him.
"It has been a little dramatic," Mekall admitted.
Lure hrmphed his agreement. An unusual look crossed his features which Mekall could only interpret as guilt. It's like a communicable disease, he thought.
"I better get to work," Lure said.
"Lure," Mekall stopped him on his way to the door. "I don't care if you read some of this. I mean, I care, but it's all right. Couldn't be helped. I'm the one who left it lying about. I'm only lucky Obi-Wan didn't get into it."
Lure turned around. "So he doesn't know?"
"No," Mekall replied, "he doesn't."
"Do you, I mean, what do you . . . "
"I'm going to tell him. Yls doesn't think I should, but I really can't see any other way to go."
Lure thought about that a moment, then asked, "So, he's really a Jedi?"
Mekall reluctantly nodded yes.
"And you're a -"
"No," Mekall corrected, "I was raised by them. That's all."
"Okay," Lure responded.
Mekall quirked the better half of a grin. "Explains some stuff, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Lure agreed, glad to see Mekall was okay with it. "I'm gonna go get to work," he said.
"I'll be out in a while, Lu," Mekall said as Lure bent to leave.
Lure headed to the galley for some caf first. He ran into Obi-Wan on his way down. As he heard them exchange greetings, Mekall got out of his chair and arranged the hardcopy.
"Morning," Obi-Wan said, as he came into the study.
"Morning, Obi-Wan," Mekall replied. "How goes it?"
"Mmm," Obi-Wan stretched, "all right. Considering I slept in a chair."
"Reminds me. You should probably start working out. Now that you're, you know."
"I saw the room upstairs," Obi-Wan told him as he sat down in his chair. "I was wondering if it would be all right."
"Sure. Mostly goes to waste when Hilty's not . . ."
"I think I owe Yls an apology," Obi-Wan ventured after a bit.
"Hm? Oh, he mentioned, but I wouldn't worry about it. He's tougher than you and I put together," Mekall said.
Mekall got up and went over to the table. "Yls brought this information after watching us act like love struck coe the other night,," he said, indicating a stack of hardcopy.
Naturally curious, Obi-Wan joined him. "Coe?"
"It's a grazing animal, soulful expression," Mekall informed him.
Obi-Wan watched him, waiting for relevant information.
"It's, well, Yls thinks that you and I, that we, are, were, are -"
"Take a breath," Obi-Wan suggested.
Mekall did. Then he took another, releasing it slowly, endeavoring to let his tension go with it. "I'm sure you've noticed how weird things get when we're close to one another or together for any length of time," he said at last.
"Hard to miss," Obi-Wan replied.
"Yls thinks it's a soul bond trying to form."
"A soul bond."
"Yes," Mekall said, picking up some of the hardcopy and holding it out to Obi-Wan.
The young Jedi took it carefully.
"What?" Mekall asked.
"Paper," Obi-Wan answered. "I meant to ask the other night . . ."
Mekall smiled at his awe. "Yeah, we still get that out here at the end of the galaxy. One of our many luxuries."
Obi-Wan let a smile slip. "It's -"
"Read," Mekall directed, "then we'll talk."
Obi-Wan devoured the reading, having Mekall show him how to use the holoreader and moving on to the hardcopy that Mekall had left on the table. He took the reading Mekall was still working on as soon as he was finished with it. At last he wore himself out. Belatedly, he attempted to camouflage a yawn.
Mekall looked up from what he was reading.
"I don't . . . I mean it doesn't seem possible," Obi-Wan began.
Mekall smiled crookedly. "That's what I said."
"So you don't think?" Obi-Wan replied, thinking about it.
"Yls."
"This happens between Force sensitives."
"Yeah," Mekall confirmed.
"You're . . . "
"That's right."
"And I'm -"
"Yes."
"Why can't I feel it?"
"You had a concussion. Yls thinks that's the reason."
Mekall could tell it made sense to Obi-Wan, but he could not place himself in the context he was being given. "Don't try so hard," Mekall reminded him.
"Where have I heard that before?" Obi-Wan kidded.
"If you're tired," Mekall began.
"Go upstairs and go to sleep for a while," the younger man finished for him, his displeasure with that idea obvious in his tone.
"The whole thing's pretty overwhelming for me and I know who I am, or at least who I'm supposed to be," Mekall said patiently. "You've not been conscious a week, Obi-Wan. You're being too hard on yourself."
Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation.
"Lie down a while," Mekall suggested. "You don't have to go to sleep. Rest. Let yourself recuperate. Take some time to think about all this. I'll make us something to eat and call you when it's up."
"Sure," Obi-Wan said, recollecting himself. He got up, placing the reader on the table. "Thanks," he added mechanically as he left the room.
Obi-Wan walked to the stairs slowly. His mind was swimming with what they had talked about and all he had read. The Force: Light and Dark, Living and Unifying. Force sense. Force sensitives - of which he was one, allegedly. That would begin to explain the strange sense he had of something around him. Something was around him, around all of them.
There were, he had read, any number of bonds: healing, training, and life bonds were the most common. A soul bond was the deepest. If he was to believe Mekall, he was soul bonding to a person he had known for less than a week. At a time when he had so little idea of who or what he was himself.
Something was missing from what Mekall had. Or maybe only from what Mekall had given him. Who was this man and his healer and his giant and what did they have to do with him? What could they have to gain by withholding information from him? No, that was ridiculous. They had fed, clothed and housed him and asked for nothing in return. Mekall was trying to help him get his memory back. He was being irrational.
Obi-Wan started up the flight of stairs, thoughts swirling through his head more confounding than enlightening.
This was maddening. When the hells was he going to start getting his memory back? What if he never did?
Sith hells!
Sith? What the -
"Don't center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan. Keep your attention here and now, where it belongs."
The voice snaked into his mind, intoning the wisdom like a mantra. Instinctually, he reached out to the Force trying to grasp and retain the memory. Pain stabbed into the side of his skull like a fistful of molten knives. Obi-Wan clawed at his head. The world turned upside down as he lost his footing and tumbled back down the stairs, his own scream alien to his ears.
Mekall ran out of the study. He reached Obi-Wan as Lure, alerted by the noise, came out of the shop. Mekall knelt beside Obi-Wan, grabbing at the young Jedi's hands to keep them away from his bleeding face. Obi-Wan did not hear Mekall speaking to him, then yelling at him, trying in vain to get through. Lure crouched beside Mekall, sized up the situation and, taking pity on Obi-Wan, knocked him out with a single punch.
Mekall stared at Obi-Wan, inert with remorse; Obi-Wan's breathing was the only sound in the echoey hallway.
Eventually, Mekall got up and made a com call to Yls. When that was completed, he took Obi-Wan into his arms and carried him up the stairs. Lure remained where he was, unable to sort out if he should stay, follow, or walk away and not look back.
Yls arrived in short order, pulling his speeder into the hangar. Lure brought him up to date on his way in but did not join him when he went upstairs. The healer walked into Mekall's room seething, having had ample time to work himself up to the boiling point on his trip from town.
"I asked you to read all the information. I asked you to take your time and think. I asked you to talk to me before you made a decision. What part of that did you not comprehend?"
Mekall looked hostile as well. His face was stony. He was in no mood to be lectured.
"I did what I thought -"
"You thought? You actually took a whole morning and thought about it before deciding to give this defenseless boy possibly the most devastating news he has ever heard. Why didn't you just pull his trousers down and stick your cock in his ass? That would have gotten the message across."
"Do you really think that's why I did this?"
Yls was having none of Mekall defending himself. "I don't know why you did this. I don't think you do either. I thought I had some idea, but if all it means to you is an experiment in depravity, then why didn't you bring him back to Dharuje and watch him kill him? Why not take him out to the hanger and crush his head with a piece of heavy equipment or, better yet, send him outside without a breather? It would be equally humane. Because it's not like you can tell him about this and not tell him about the rest. Not unless you want him to go insane. Or maybe you want him to lose his mind. That would take care of some of your problems."
Mekall's anger deflated beneath the healer's tirade. "Hells, Yls," he said wearily, "nothing I do, nothing I think is right anymore."
"If you're looking for sympathy," Yls responded, "do it somewhere else."
Yls set about checking Obi-Wan over. Mekall perched momentarily on a chair he had pulled to the bedside then changed him mind and stood. Obi-Wan was being taken care of. He obviously was incapable of doing so. It would be best if he just left. So he did.
Yls never looked up from the Jedi.
Mekall went down to the workshop. He had intended to wait for evening to go into Qasch, but lowlife did not wait for nightfall to come out in Larral's capital city. Now was as good a time as any. He changed into his leathers and had Lure break out blasters, in case they found what he was hoping they would not.
When they returned, over twelve hours later, Mekall looked the worse for wear, having taken the past week out on whoever and whatever got in his way. Lure had hung back and disposed of the debris. It was not a night to get in Mekall's way.
They had heard talk of a Jedi on planet, but no real news. No one who had seen him or knew who had. Obi-Wan was safe. Mekall snarled a sick laugh at the notion. Safe from whom? Was what Yls had accused him of possible?
Was I trying to hurt Obi-Wan? he wondered, to kill him? Am I willing to destroy him rather than face that there might really be a bond?
He sent Lure home and went to the spare room where he crashed onto the bed without detouring to the 'fresher. Sleep eluded him until well past daybreak, when he finally slipped into something between wakefulness and meditation.
Mekall heard Lure return midafternoon and joined him downstairs. The Niadan understood the situation when he saw Mekall was unshaven and wearing last night's clothes.
They went out to the hangar, secured the excess weaponry, then worked in the shop for a few hours. When Lure left, Mekall put on a breather and went out into the compound where he walked until the breathing apparatus' charge ran dangerously low.
When he returned to the house, Mekall drank until he was past the point of conscious thought then dragged himself up to the second bedroom where he passed out, spending another night cut off, alone, shivering through tortmented dreams.
It was light and Yls was in the doorway when Mekall woke.
"I don't want to hear it," Mekall growled at him.
Yls raised a brow. "You're doing a much better job of beating yourself up than I could ever do. You always have."
"How is he?"
"I have a feeling you would be better able to tell than I. I think it's psychic shock, that he overloaded when he reached out for the Force and it was there again. I can't be sure."
"What makes you think I can?"
Yls cocked the single eyebrow again. Mekall conceded the point with a scowl.
"You should eat," Yls suggested. "No point going into it filthy and starving. If you think what you've been through with him already was tough . . ."
Mekall started to get annoyed, but realized it was at the situation, not at Yls. He let it go. They went down to the galley, ate and returned upstairs.
Mekall walked to the bedside warily. Yls had left a chair by the side of the bed. Mekall sat down, never taking his eyes off Obi-Wan. The Jedi's breathing was shallow. His skin, normally pale was now nearly literally white and covered by a thin layer of sweat. His eyes were not quite closed. Mekall found the empty slits far more disturbing than the vacant stare of previous days.
Even with Obi-Wan in his current state, the pressure of the bond was considerable. Mekall reached out to touch Obi-Wan's face as if it had nothing to do with free will. He bent to place a kiss on Obi-Wan's lips. Then he slid Obi-Wan's hand from under the blanket. Holding it between his hands, he sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. He cleared his mind, concentrating only on warming the chilled skin.
There was a moment of disorientation, then Mekall was alone, facing a wall, the wall that he had constructed between himself and the ramifications of recent events. He reached up and set about taking it apart, stone by stone. As the wall came down, a chill-grey fog floated in to surround him. Mekall sought his center and sank into lotus within the meditation. He envisioned a candle in front of him, focusing on its light and the warmth of the Light.
Consciousness returned but with it, no sense of passing time. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, but found he could not see.
Am I blind? he wondered.
No, blindfolded. There was a difference in the darkness when he blinked.
Okay. I'm all right. Breathe, just breathe. That's it. Have to figure out where I am and why.
It was hard to think. His mind felt cloudy and his body ached almost everywhere.
He concentrated on his surroundings. He heard the sounds of water dripping in broad splats, sloshing under someone or something's feet. Further away, he could make out a ship's engine. Slowly, he came to recognize a vibration beneath him. No, it was all around him, and somehow inside him. Water splashed his feet and spattered his legs and his arms, his torso and his cock.
I'm naked. Why am I naked?
He tried to move, to stop the spray, to cover himself. He could not. He was restrained, arms and legs stretched out. Naked and spread for display like some laboratory specimen.
Where am I? What's happening?
Panic coiled around his guts. He fought the fear down, reached automatically for the Force, found blinding pain where it should have been. His fear spiked, coursing through him in a heated surge, causing his skin to ripple against the chill air. Jarring shards of thought jumbled his mind.
Must control the fear, he thought, without knowing why that was important. He tried to move even a little, but to no avail.
Obi-Wan struggled harder as he heard steps approaching in the water. Heavy, wet breathing drew nearer and nearer. Icy slime touched first one arm, then both. It began to cover him, spreading, over him, under him, around him, wrapping him like a second skin. Internally he was flailing in terror, but in reality he could only tremble uncontrollably, as who knew how many - one? ten? one hundred? - tongues, arms and unknown appendages assaulted him. Sharp spines scratched and gouged and pressed at his skin. Debauched laughter invaded his mind.
No.
No.
No.
Not happening. Not possible. Someone would come. There was someone who should be on the way . . . someone who would rescue him . . .
"Echannu wanma theillii, Jedi."
The words meant nothing, but he would never forget them or the warm puff of air that jetted them past his ear.
A rock hard sharpness jammed against his ass. He was forced open, crying out as pain skewered him, destroying his channel, eviscerating his mind. His silent litanies became vocal. All he could do was scream. Soon even that was lost to him. The horror first took his voice, then his thoughts until, eventually, oblivion swallowed reality.
Mekall made himself be the light. He began to feel his essence extend out. Searching. The vulnerability was disconcerting. To counter his fears, he concentrated on the candle flame. His breathing steadied. The light and the Light began to increase and Mekall lost all sense of himself.
Off in the distance, Obi-Wan appeared, naked, lying on his back in a swirling cloud of grey, shivering from the cold and the darkness.
Light began to intertwine with miasmic shifting grey around Obi-Wan. Gradually, the dusky mass was enveloped by the light and that light then began to sink into Obi-Wan. Mekall was slammed back into his own consciousness. He landed hard as the Jedi's entire weight fell into his lap.
Tears streamed down Obi-Wan's cheeks. He was breathing in ragged gasps, still attempting to voice piteous screeches of refutation.
"Shh, Obi-Wan," Mekall voiced into his mind, calm and sure. "Shh, you're safe. It's over. He'll never hurt you again." Though Mekall held Obi-Wan tight, sending soothing to him, Obi-Wan would not quiet. Mekall had an idea. He reached behind Obi-Wan. When his hand came up, a dark brown cloak was in it. He pulled the cloak over Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan looked up. The cloak struck a responsive chord. At last, warmth permeated the young Jedi and he allowed himself to flow back into what was flowing into him.
"Mekall," he said hoarsely, now seeing him.
"It's over, Obi-Wan," Mekall said aloud. "You're safe."
"Safe," Obi-Wan repeated.
"Yeah. You're safe. It's safe. I'll protect you." "You will?"
"Yeah, Obi-Wan. I will."
With one last look into Mekall's face, Obi-Wan lapsed into a healing sleep.
(continued in part 5)