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Out Into Freedom, part two

by The Rose (rosarocaminis@yahoo.com)

The long trek through the dark night was terrifying to Qui, the prison Swab who could never remember stepping so much as a foot outside the cold stone walls of the Queen's prison. He followed his savior, staying close to the young Jedi Knight with the shoulder length red-gold hair and the changeable blue-green eyes. The night was amazing, though. Overhead, millions of stars twinkled in a cloudless sky. He had never seen anything like it, had never even imagined anything like it.

He followed silently, not wanting to annoy Obi-Wan. He stayed a step or two behind as was proper behavior for a slave, both arms wrapped tightly across his chest.

He was still clad only in the dirty, tattered short pants that was all he wore most of the year, and the cool night air brushed over his bare skin. It made him shiver, and with each shiver came a fresh surge of pain. Obi-Wan had, at first, kept most of it at bay. But, the further they walked, the more Qui's pain returned. He thought he knew why. The Jedi had been whipped, too, far worse than he had. Undoubtedly, controlling his own pain was taking the Jedi's concentration away from Qui's.

It wasn't in Qui to question it.

No one had ever cared how he felt, how much he hurt. No one had ever wondered if he were hungry or cold or lonely. It was the way of things. That this Jedi should care, even a little, was a source of amazement to the slave. Any such caring was more than he deserved. He could no longer feel the other in his head, though, not like he had before. It was as if a soundproof door had been closed between them. All he got now was that faint, buzzing sort of not-quite-sound between his temples, the same as when the Jedi had first been brought to the prison.

Sensing that Obi-Wan had stopped, Qui looked up. Ahead, glittering in the pale starlight like some great hulking beast, sat a huge silver contraption. The sight sent a cold chill of a different sort through him. Even as he watched, the metal monster opened a gaping mouth as if to swallow them both whole. Terrified, Qui stumbled backwards a step, his heart pounding in his chest.

Immediately, Obi-Wan turned. "It's all right," he said, reaching out to touch him lightly on the shoulder. Then, the young Jedi cursed, and the Swab immediately lowered his eyes, bowing his head in submission. He heard Obi-Wan's breath catch. "No, Qui. No," he said, reaching to enfold Qui in a warm and comforting embrace. "It's myself I'm angry with, not you. It's just that you're freezing and in pain, and it's my fault. Forgive me."

No one had ever asked Qui for forgiveness, and the thought of it brought his head up in shock.

"Please, sir," he said, pushing back to arm's length. "I'm all right. You shouldn't worry ---" He broke off as an amazing thing happened. The Jedi removed his robe then draped it carefully around Qui's shoulders, drawing it closed in the front. Still warm from the Jedi's body, it felt almost unbearably good. Qui let his shoulders relax with a sigh as his shivering stopped and the worst of his pain disappeared. Even more wonderful was the fact that he could once again feel Obi-Wan's presence. It shone like a miniature sun, seeming to light the darkness around him.

"Come on," Obi-Wan said, wrapping an arm around Qui's back and steering him toward that terrifying metal beast. "Let's get you inside."

Qui tried to be brave, not wanting to disobey, but Obi-Wan felt his reluctance and halted again. "It's only my ship, Qui," he said. "Don't be afraid." He glanced back at the thing with its silver skin and lowered ramp as if seeing if for the first time. He chuckled softly, and Qui thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound. "I guess it does look a little scary, doesn't it? Have you ever been on a ship before, Qui?"

"No," the slave answered, scarcely noticing that they were once again walking toward the ship. "Not that I remember."

"You'll like it, I think," Obi-Wan said, a hint of amusement still in his voice as he guided Qui up the steep ramp. "And if this surprises you, wait until you see Coruscant." They stopped while Obi-Wan raised the ramp and sealed the hatch behind them. Then, he turned the taller man toward the front of the ship as he brought the light level up.

Qui sucked in a startled breath. The inside of the ship was --- amazing; clean, and dry, and filled with light, even if it was artificial. Though it was just a typical small craft, it far exceeded anything he had ever seen before. The floor was smooth and level, with some sort of soft covering that he wanted to sink his bare toes into. Along one wall were two bunks. They, too, looked soft and were draped with thick, warm looking blankets. In the center of the small space was a table and two chairs, all bolted solidly to the floor, and to the right some sort of food area. The thought made Qui's stomach growl hungrily.

He had not eaten in a long time. Normally, he was fed twice a day at the prison, usually a small bowl of stew --- tasteless, if he was lucky, foul with the taste of spoiled meat if he was not. It was never enough, as evidenced by his too thin form. But he was used to being hungry.

He pushed the memory away. That part of his life was gone. At least, it was gone until Obi-Wan grew tired of him, or until the Jedi realized just how slow and stupid Qui really was.

"Come up to the cockpit with me while I take off," Obi-Wan said as he swept past him, moving with unconscious grace. "Then we'll see to our wounds. Okay?"

Qui followed, a question nagging at him. Not surprisingly, Obi-Wan sensed it.

"What?" the Jedi asked, glancing over his shoulder with an indulgent smile.

Qui hesitated, trying to put his thoughts in order. "You apologized," he finally blurted out. Then he shook his head. No, that wasn't what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to ask why Obi-Wan had apologized, why he'd felt it was his fault that the slave was cold and hurting. But conversing was difficult for Qui. He'd never had anyone to talk to, since it had been against the prison rules for him to talk to the prisoners. He'd done it a few times, late at night when the guards weren't around. But never enough to become good at it. Tortured, dying prisoners were not big talkers.

Thankfully, Obi-Wan seemed to understand him. "I apologized, Qui, because I had the power to prevent it, but I'm afraid my own pain was distracting me." Obi-Wan stopped and stepped to one side, ushering Qui ahead of him into the small cockpit. He steered the former slave into the right hand seat and took the other one for himself.

"I --- couldn't feel you," Qui said, still a bit nervous about being allowed to speak freely.

"No," Obi-Wan said sadly. "I don't suppose you could." His hands flitted over the controls for a moment, bringing the engines up to speed, before he turned to meet Qui's gaze. "I am sorry, Qui, for shutting you out." He sighed. "I was trying to keep my own pain to myself, I suppose. Trying not to inflict it on you." He smiled, but there was infinitely more sorrow in his eyes than had been obvious in his voice. He reached one elegant hand up to stroke along the stubble and old scars on Qui's cheek. "How it must have pained you," he continued, "seeing all that suffering all those years." A thought seemed to occur to him. "How long were you there, anyway, in the prison?"

"Forever."

The sadness in the blue-green eyes deepened. "Well, you're free now, Qui. In a few days, we'll be on Coruscant, at the Jedi Temple. There, I'll begin training you to use your skills." He stopped suddenly and Qui sensed a wave of concern from him. "That is, if that's what you want."

"Will I get to stay with you?" Qui asked in his softest voice.

"Of course."

"Then, that's what I want," Qui said. His face felt strangely tight and he realized he was smiling. It felt strange. But the answering smile and chuckle reassured him.

"You're very handsome when you smile, Qui," Obi-Wan said as he turned back to his controls. "You should try to do it more often." He reached for a lever. "Hold on. We're about to take off."

Qui clutched the edges of the seat as the ship lifted under him. He watched, wide eyed, through the cockpit window as the ground disappeared and was replaced by the blackness of space and even brighter stars.

"We'll be home in about four days," Obi-Wan explained. He glanced back at the older man. "And now, you and I need to see to our wounds and clean up a bit."

Qui's nose wrinkled. He knew that he smelled. He had not been allowed to bathe in some time, and he couldn't remember the last time his clothing had been washed. "I'm sorry," he began, lowering his eyes in shame. "I know I smell bad ---"

"Don't apologize for things that aren't your fault, my friend," Obi- Wan said.

Qui looked up, a flare of something like contentment washing through his heart. My friend. The Jedi had called him that before, in the prison. My friend . . . What a wonderful sound those two words had. He felt his lips stretch into another smile.

"Come," Obi-Wan said as he got to his feet. Qui tried to do likewise, but the terrible pain in the lower half of his body caught him as he tried to push himself up. He must have gasped out loud, for Obi-Wan caught him by the shoulders, easing him out of the chair and steadying him on his feet. But Qui felt, through the strange link between them, that it caused the Jedi pain as well.

Qui had often been able to feel the pain of others. It had made his life at the prison nearly unbearable, constantly surrounded as he was by suffering prisoners, some of them being subjected to hideously slow, agonizing deaths. This time, with the Jedi, it was stronger than usual, as if there were somehow a bond forming between them. Qui shook his head. Now he was imagining things, surely. What sort of bond could possibly form between a Jedi Knight and a worthless slave such as himself? He must have been broadcasting again, for Obi-Wan turned to frown at him as they limped out of the cockpit.

"You are not worthless, Qui," he said in that beautiful, lilting voice that Qui loved to listen to so much. "I'm sorry that you've been convinced of that, but I intend to prove otherwise." He led the older man to the ship's small 'fresher. "This," he said, "is a sonic shower. Not nearly so refreshing as bathing in water, but that luxury isn't available aboard ship, I'm afraid." He reached inside to the controls and turned it on. The buzzing whine as the sonics engaged made Qui take a startled step back.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said. "See?" He stuck his own arm back into the unit, proving its harmlessness, then caught Qui by the hand and pulled him closer. "See?" he repeated, drawing Qui's arm into it as well.

Qui winced slightly as the tingling, but made no effort to pull away. "Good," Obi-Wan told him. "All you have to do is strip and step inside for a few minutes and you'll be clean." He glanced down at the filthy pants just visible though the open front of the robe. "Leave your pants in here when you're finished and just put the robe back on. I see what I can do about finding you some clean clothes."

Qui nodded. He slowly divested himself of the robe, still eyeing the shower uncertainly, but hesitated before removing his pants. Obi-Wan seemed to be resisting the impulse to chuckle.

"I'll give you some privacy, Qui," the young Jedi said, slipping past him in the small room. "Come out when you're done."

Once alone, Qui breathed a sigh of relief. Truth be told, he was a little afraid of this strange whining, buzzing, tingling device, and he was strangely reluctant to let Obi-Wan see any more of his fear. With a brief glance at the closed door, he stripped, tossing the soiled pants into a far corner. Settling his shoulders, he closed his eyes and stepped into the shower.

It felt very strange, like thousands of tiny, unseen bugs crawling on his skin. He didn't think he liked it very much, especially the way it felt like sandpaper where it touched the tender, inflamed skin on his lower back and buttocks. But, he didn't want to stay dirty, either. Judging from the inside of the ship, Obi-Wan appreciated cleanliness. Qui wasn't about to disappoint him.

He stayed in there longer than he would have liked to. Finally, his skin feeling well scrubbed, at least, he deactivated the device and stepped out. He looked down at himself. His skin had a health, rosy sort of glow that he could never remember seeing before. The thought almost made him smile. Obi-Wan would be pleased. Feeling better than he had in years, he slipped into the brown robe and went to find his benefactor.

Obi-Wan was seated on one of the bunks. He had stripped off the cream colored tunic and was dabbing something on the bloody welts on his chest and upper arms. Qui froze in his tracks, not wanting to intrude. Again, the Jedi seemed to pluck his thoughts right out of his head.

"You're not intruding, Qui. Come on." He patted the bunk next to him and waited until Qui was seated before continuing. He saw that the older man was staring at his wounds. "Don't worry, my friend. They're not serious. In fact, some of them are mostly healed already." He grinned at the look of amazement that crossed Qui's face. "You look better," he commented. He reached one hand to touch the short but unruly dark hair. "Have you ever considered letting your hair get long, Qui?" he asked. "I think you'd look good that way. You have nice hair." He let his fingers trail down the side of Qui's face, tickling as they encountered the growing stubble on his cheek. "And I think I'd like you in a beard, too," Obi-Wan added somewhat absently.

"Okay," Qui said, nodding. "If that's what you want."

Immediately, the blue-green eyes rose to meet his. "No, Qui. If it's what YOU want. It's your choice."

My choice, Qui repeated silently. My choice. What an amazing concept that was. He looked up to see Obi-Wan grinning at him.

"Welcome to freedom," the Jedi said softly to the answering grin. Then, Obi-Wan sobered. "Now, let's see to your injuries, okay?"

Qui felt his face grow hot and knew that he was blushing at the thought of being naked before this man. That's stupid, he told himself. Lots of people had seen him naked. So, what made this any different? But, it was different. Slowly, he turned around and shed the robe. He heard the harsh intake of breath from behind him and then Obi-Wan was cursing, quite harshly, in some language that Qui had never heard. Having been a slave all of his life, he reacted out of instinct to the angry tone. He dropped to his knees and lowered his head, waiting silently for his punishment. Instantly, Obi-Wan crouched beside him and drew him into an embrace.

"Oh, Qui, no! Please! I'm not angry at you!" Obi-Wan said, his breath puffing against Qui's neck and sending a thrill of shivers through him. "Please, please, forgive me for frightening you. It's just that I'm so angry about what those animals did to you."

"They whipped you, too," Qui said in a small voice as Obi-Wan lifted him to the bunk.

"But they didn't rape me," the Jedi said. He arranged the larger man face down on the soft mattress, not surprised when his feet hung off the end. "Now, I want you to pay close attention and concentrate on what I'm doing. This is something you'll begin learning to do, soon." Carefully centering himself in the Force, Obi-Wan concentrated on healing the deep lash marks that had cut deeply into the pale skin. Dozens of thin, white lines gave evidence of other whippings, a lifetime of abuse. The worst injuries of all, however, were to Qui's anus.

It was torn and bruised, the area around it swollen. Obi-Wan made a point to not touch it, not wanting to inflict even that minor pain on this gentle, kind-hearted man. Instead, he concentrated the Force, using it to undo the worst of the damage. That done, he tried to soothe away the dark, spongy bruises. As he worked, he felt Qui's pain level gradually dropping.

Finally, Obi-Wan sat back, having done all he could. He gazed down at Qui. The brilliant blue eyes were half hooded by heavy lids, some of the lines in his face having smoothed out. It made him look younger, somehow, and infinitely more vulnerable.

"I will never let anyone do this to you again, Qui," he said in the tone of an oath. He scooted slightly forward, noticing the still tight shoulder muscles. Without thought, he began to massage them, lightly at first and then more firmly as he felt Qui relaxing under his hands.

"Tell me about the Jedi," Qui said, tasting the unfamiliar word as he said it, not lifting his head off the thin pillow.

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, though it was a sad smile. "There used to be thousands of us," he began. "We considered ourselves to be the defenders of the galaxy, the insurers of justice. But, many hated us, because of our beliefs. A group of dark warriors rose up. They, too, were skilled in the use of the Force, but they used it for evil, for conquest, for destruction."

He trailed off, and Qui opened one eye, turning his head to peek at Obi-Wan. "What happened? Did they attack you?"

"Not all at once," Obi-Wan told him, still working his fingers deeply into those tight muscles. "They hid in the shadows, afraid to be seen. They ambushed us, attacking Knights and Masters in the field. They killed some, severely injured others. Some, they captured, and they used their dark power to twist and manipulate their minds until they either switched sides or were driven mad." He took a deep breath, determined to finish the story. Qui had a right to know. "Finally, they came to Coruscant, to the Temple."

His voice trailed off as his mind returned him to that time. He had been off planet, on a mission, but he had felt the attack. Rushing home, his mind had reached out for his Master's. He found it at once, their connection easily as strong as it had been before his Knighting. Through that bond, Obi-Wan experienced the attack as clearly as if he'd been there.

Nearly fifty of them came, armed with lightsabers and sonic bombs and all the hatred of their kind. The Jedi rose up against them, some falling back to protect the children. Masters and Knights and Padawans, just children themselves, clashed with the dark ones. It was a mostly bloodless war, the 'sabers cauterizing as they slashed, and a mostly silent one. By the end of it, not one Jedi was left standing. Obi-Wan arrived too late --- much too late. He found his Master barely clinging to life, waiting for him.

"Took the children, they did," his Master had whispered as Obi-Wan gathered the dying body into his arms. "Find them, you must. Save them."

Furiously blinking tears from his eyes, Obi-Wan could but nod. "Yes, my Master."

"Few of you there are now, my Padawan. Strong you must be."

"Yes, Master."

"Pass on what you have learned. And remember."

Obi-Wan clung to his Master as the light faded from his eyes. He watched through a haze of tears as the body disincorporated, returning to the Force. He couldn't remember how long he had stayed there on his knees, clutching nothing more than a handful of clothing. Finally, though, he had pulled himself to his feet, made himself search the Temple.

There was no one left.

Gradually, the other Jedi who had been in the field returned home. Together, they worked tirelessly to clean up the reminders of battle. They combined their mental talents to search for the stolen Initiates, but to no avail. It was as if they had disappeared from the galaxy. Somber and shaken, they had dispersed, most of them, only a handful remaining to guard the Temple. They each vowed to do what they could --- and to never forget.

"I'm sorry."

The gentle words, softly spoken, broke Obi-Wan out of his reverie. He blinked, feeling the moisture that had gathered in his eyes, and gazed down at Qui. The former slave had rolled onto his side and was clutching one of Obi-Wan's hands firmly between his own.

"What?" Obi-Wan asked fuzzily. He saw the blue eyes brimming with tears and reached out with the Force to understand it. His eyes opened wide. "You saw that?" he asked in amazement.

Qui nodded. He reached up with one large hand to gently wipe away an escaped tear that was rolling down Obi-Wan's cheek. "Yes, I saw it. In my head. It was like I was there beside you." He stopped, puzzled. "How is this possible?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Because, my friend," he said, "the Force has quite a sense of humor, apparently."

Qui's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It's brought us together, don't you see? A bond has formed between us. A training bond, if I'm not mistaken. My Master told me to pass on my training." He grinned. "I must confess, however, that I thought my first Padawan would be younger than me."

"Padawan?" Qui echoed, his face lighting up as he connected the word with all the warmth and compassion he had felt between Obi-Wan and his own Master. "Really? I can be your Padawan?"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes! Very much."

"Then, that is how it will be." He chuckled. "Although, I'm sure you're the oldest Padawan ever." Obi-Wan got to his feet, turning to rummage around in his traveling bag. "Here," he said, tossing a pair of soft, cream colored pants and a slightly tunic toward Qui. "Those won't be a great fit, but they're better than nothing."

Qui sat up, self consciously draping the clothes over his lap. "Thank you, Ob---" He broke off, his eyes raising to meet the Jedi's. "Should I call you 'Master,' now?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Only if you want to, Qui."

The former slave nodded. "Thank you, Master." Then, he lowered his eyes, and Obi-Wan felt his enthusiasm waning.

"What is it, Padawan?" he asked, trying out the title and noticing how it made Qui's deep blue eyes light up again, but only for a moment.

"I don't know how to do this. Be a Padawan, I mean," he said.

"Well, we're even then, because I'm not certain I know how to be a Master. Once we get back to the Temple, there is a library and --- " He broke off, narrowing his eyes. "Can you read, Qui?"

The handsome, too-thin face flushed. "No."

"Then that is the first thing you will learn." He turned toward the cockpit. "I'll be in the cockpit. You can join me as soon as you're dressed."

It only took a few minutes for Qui to dress. He entered the cockpit, Obi-Wan's brown robe draped over one arm, and the Jedi Knight turned to look him up and down. A hint of amusement tugged at the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth. Puzzled, Qui glanced down for a look at himself.

The tunic was stretched tight across the chest and stopped just short of the waistband of his pants. The pants themselves stopped above his ankles, though they fit well enough otherwise. Qui's bare feet looked decidedly odd beneath them. He supposed he did look silly.

"Well, the first thing we're going to do when we reach Coruscant," Obi-Wan said, "is to get you some proper fitting clothes." He watched as Qui looked down at himself again, and this time the Jedi did chuckle. "Don't worry about it." He pulled something from a pocket in his robe. "There is something else I'd like to do, if you don't mind. May I see your hand?"

Qui extended it and Obi-Wan pressed the device he held to the tip of one of the large fingers. The former slave flinched slightly as he activated it.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan told him. "But I want to check your blood."

"My blood?" Qui asked thickly as Obi-Wan turned to run the sample through the computer.

"Um hmmm. I want to see if --- ah, I thought so." He turned to look into the dark blue eyes. "You, my friend, have a very high midichlorinian count. Higher than mine, actually. And you also have a rather nasty drug in your system."

Qui sank into the right hand chair. "Drug?"

Obi-Wan reached out to squeeze one broad shoulder. "Yes. They were probably putting it in your food. It's called Quietin, and it was used to keep you under control. That's probably why you always felt as if you were one step behind everyone else. Not quite as smart, you know?"

Qui blinked at him. "You mean, I might not really be stupid?"

"Oh, Qui, you're anything but stupid. But, as long as they kept you feeling that way, you didn't cause them any trouble."

Qui frowned. "But, this drug will wear off? Then I'll be okay?"

"Yes. The withdrawal may be rough, though. But, don't worry. I'll be here to help you."

Qui nodded. "Okay, Obi--- I mean, okay, Master." He thought for a moment. "That other word you mentioned. Mid ---"

"Midi-chlorians."

"Yes. What does that mean?"

Obi-Wan grinned at him. "All things in good time. For now, are you hungry?" he asked as he stood up.

"I'm always hungry!" Qui exclaimed.

"Then, let's eat."

Obi-Wan led Qui back out of the cockpit and to the small table, motioning him into one of the chairs. "What would you like, Qui?" he asked as he stepped up to the small food area and opened a cabinet.

"Food," Qui said without hesitation.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I know. But, what kind?"

Qui frowned. He didn't know how to answer that.

"It's all right," the Jedi said. "Something light would be best, I suppose. How about some bread and cheese and some fruit? Does that sound all right?"

Qui moistened his lips, his mouth already watering at the thought. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Fine." Obi-Wan pulled out two shiny metal plates and began filling them. "And, some hot tea to wash it down with, I think." A moment later he turned and placed a plate and cup in front of Qui. The older man's eyes opened wide. He'd never seen so much food! Hurriedly, he grabbed one of the thick slices of bread and crammed it into his mouth, chewing quickly.

"Easy, Qui, easy!" Obi-Wan encouraged. "Take your time. There's plenty more where that came from."

Qui made a conscious effort to slow down, but he'd been kept half starved at the prison, and the sight of so much food was nearly overwhelming. All too quickly, his plate was empty and the cup of tea drained. His gaze flickered to Obi-Wan's half full plate, and he looked away guiltily.

"There's more, if you want it, Qui," Obi-Wan said, gesturing toward the cabinet. "Help yourself."

"Really?"

The Jedi Knight smiled indulgently. "Really."

Qui rose quickly and crossed to the cabinet. So much food! He caught his lower lip between his teeth as he piled his plate high again. Returning to the table, he leaned forward and stuffed his mouth full. Then, he looked up. Obi-Wan's plate was empty and the Jedi was watching him, slowly sipping at his tea.

Instantly, Qui felt guilty, the way he had in the prison when a condemned prisoner had begged him for food or water and he had been unable to give him any. He glanced down at his plate and selected a thick chunk of cheese. Shyly, he slipped in onto the Jedi's plate, watching through lowered eyelashes to judge his reaction.

Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, Qui, that was very thoughtful."

Qui shrugged, embarrased. "It's okay," he said around his mouthful.

"Chew and swallow, first," Obi-Wan instructed. "Then talk."

Qui nodded, chewing rapidly then gulping the food down. He wiped him mouth on his sleeve and looked up through his eyelashes. "When will we get to Cor--- Corus---, uh, to the Temple?"

"Coruscant," Obi-Wan said, the corners of his eyes still wrinkled slightly in amusement. "And we should be there in about four days." He broke the chunk of cheese in half and gave one piece back to Qui. After eating the other, he rose. "I'm going to go meditate. Join me as soon as you're finished eating."

Qui nodded, his mouth too full to talk, and he watched as the Jedi moved a few feet away and sank down onto his knees. The incredible blue-green eyes that Qui so admired closed, the lines of the Jedi's face relaxing. Through the strange connection between them, Qui felt a sense of calm settle over the younger man. Hurriedly, the former slave finished the food on his plate and rose to join him. Not really knowing anything other than it felt right, he knelt in front of Obi- Wan, close enough that their knees touched. Without looking up, Obi- Wan reached out and took Qui's hands in his.

"Close your eyes," the Jedi instructed, "and relax. Imagine a door inside your head, a door that leads to the rest of the universe. Then, open that door. Can you do that?"

Qui nodded nervously. "I'll try."

He felt a trickle of amusement through their link. "My Master had a favorite saying for that. 'Do, or do not. There is no try.' Just imagine opening that door, Qui, and I will do the rest."

He obeyed, resisting the urge to chew his lip. This sounded too hard, too vague, and he didn't share the Jedi's confidence that it would be that easy. It wasn't. He could feel, faintly, Obi-Wan reaching out to him, tugging at him, even. But, nothing else happened. The door he tried so desperately to open in his mind remained resolutely closed.

Finally, Obi-Wan released his hands and sat back.

Qui blinked back tears of shame. "I'm sorry ---"

A firm hand lifted his chin, though he couldn't bring himself to meet the blue-green eyes. "What did I tell you about not apologizing for things that are not your fault?" Obi-Wan asked.

Qui sniffled and nodded. "Okay," he said in a small voice, eyes still downcast. He heard the Jedi sigh.

"Oh, Qui, what did those bastards do to you?" Obi-Wan whispered. Then, in a rustle of clothing, he rose, pulling Qui with him. He turned the taller man toward one of the bunks. "Bed," he said firmly. "Time enough tomorrow to work on meditation."

"Yes, Master," Qui murmured as he let himself be led to the bed. His mouth was dry, and he really needed to relieve himself, but he made no mention of either. His Master said it was time to sleep. So sleep he would.

He woke up later, with the feeling that several hours had passed. His full bladder screamed at him for attention, and for a moment, he panicked. In the prison, he would have just peed in the corner, then swabbed it away the next day with a bucketful of water. But here --- He didn't know what to do, but he knew instinctively that the floor wouldn't do. He remembered the small room where Obi-Wan had taken him. Getting to his feet, he moved silently through the small ship, his eyes easily adjusting to the dim lighting.

There stood the small sonic shower, and next to it, a strange seat with no center. He eyed it, noticing a button on one side. Curious, he pushed it. There was a rush of suctioning sound. Ah, maybe . . . Hoping he was right, he relieved himself into the seat, then hit the button again. He breathed a sigh of relief as his urine was sucked away.

His mouth was dry, even worse than when he had gone to sleep, as he quietly made his way back to bed. Longingly, he eyed the food area, wishing he had paid more attention when Obi-Wan was preparing dinner. Bile rose up in his throat at the thought of all the food he had eaten, and he had to fight down the urge to vomit. But, his lips were so dry, his tongue feeling thick, and there had to be water somewhere, didn't there? Glancing at the still sleeping form on the bunk nearby, he crossed the distance and began to open cabinets.

He found more of the shiny silver plates, some cups like he and Obi- Wan had used for their tea, and a few cooking pots. Behind another door was the fruit Obi-Wan had served. He closed the door quickly, the smell making him nauseous. He leaned forward onto the cabinet top as his stomach contracted painfully. He clutched it with both hands, not even reacting when a strong arm slipped around him from behind.

"So," Obi-Wan said softly, "it's begun, has it?"

Qui turned to look at the other questioningly, feeling beads of sweat pop out on his forehead. "Hurts," he murmured.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I know, Qui. I know." He reached up with one hand and stroked Qui's cheek. "Come. Back to bed."

If not for the Jedi's encircling arm, Qui did not believe he could have crossed the room again. He sank down onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip as Obi-Wan sat down beside him. Then, he was drawn into a comforting embrace and pulled back against the Jedi's chest. He choked back a whimper as a cramp threatened to turn his stomach inside out.

"Shhh," Obi-Wan soothed. "Shhh, Qui. We'll get through this. Trust me. We'll get through this together."

Force, why does he have to go through this? Hasn't this poor man suffered enough in his life? Obi-Wan wrapped the former prison swab tightly in his arms, diffusing as much of his pain as he could. As he held him, he thought back to the events that had brought them together.

He had landed on that Sithdamned chunk of rock searching for children; the initiates from the Temple, primarily, but also any Force-strong children that could be trained as Jedi. Instead, he had been drawn to a tall, painfully thin slave who had been drugged and beaten into submission for, well, more years than Obi-Wan cared to think about.

Just getting to him had been difficult, and painful. The only way into the Queen's prison, it seemed, was as either a guard --- and all the guards were planet natives --- or as a prisoner. So, he had insulted the Queen, calling her a barbarous snarth. Before the echo died, he had been arrested and sentenced to die on the Wheel.

It was the worst of the death sentences, the longest and most agonizing. Not that Obi-Wan expected to stay around long enough to find out. He had stayed only long enough to get Qui's attention and gain a portion of his trust. He remembered how terrified the slave had been when Obi-Wan suggested they escape. But, even after being beaten and savagely raped by the master-torturer and one of the guards, he had somewhere found the strength and the courage necessary to agree. He was an amazing man.

"Shhh," Obi-Wan soothed, feeling another tremor of pain lance through Qui's body. He clutched him tighter, clamped down another notch or two on the pain receptors in his brain. In the beginning, there had been the cramps and nausea. After that, the vomiting had begun. Qui had heaved until his stomach was empty. Even then, it didn't stop.

It was only going to get worst, Obi-Wan knew. He'd heard about Quietin withdrawal. Some of the mental care facilities had used it for awhile, before they realized how nearly impossible it was to wean a patient off of it. Qui shivered violently in his arms as he slipped into the next phase of the process. Obi-Wan called a blanket from the other bed and wrapped his charge in it, taking the precaution of cocooning both of Qui's arms inside it.

Soon, the hallucinations would begin.

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. This would not be pretty.

"No!" Qui screamed, struggling against the guards that held him. They had tied the Jedi down on the cold stone floor, his naked body covered with the lash marks from his earlier whipping. "Please! He's done nothing to deserve this!"

One of the guards holding him laughed coarsely. "Only insulted her Majesty and then tried to escape, that's all. Oh, unless you include trying to take you with him."

"Yeah," the other guard said. "But, don't worry, swab. You'll be joining him soon enough."

Qui watched in horror as the heavy metal Wheel, waist tall, was rolled into position. He screamed, the sound echoing that of the young Jedi, as it was rolled across the helpless man's right forearm, the torturer's weight above it insuring that the bone was crushed. Qui could hear the crunch even over the screams. The Wheel was repositioned, rolled over the wrist this time. More screams, more crunching and snapping of bone.

There was blood now. Not much, not enough to kill, certainly. Only a few drops here and there as splinters of bone were driven through the bruised flesh. Again, the Wheel was repositioned, crushing the hand.

"Please!" Qui screamed, his own body shuddering and convulsing with each roll of the torture device. For he sometimes felt the pain of the dying prisoners, felt it in his head and in his heart and sometimes, like now, even in his nerves. It was agonizing. "Please, stop!"

There was no response this time, only another roll of the Wheel, another crunch of bones and another set of nearly identical screams. He sagged in the guards' hold, his consciousness graying out around the edges. But, the beautiful young Jedi with his red-gold hair and incredible eyes would not be allowed to slip into unconsciousness. He was jarred back to himself with ice cold water. He arched against the ropes that held him immobile, just as Qui surged upward against the guards' hands, revived as well.

No, the swab pleaded silently, closing his eyes as if that would help. No, no, no, no, no, no . . .

But all his begging and screaming and pleading went unheeded. For hours, the heavy Wheel crushed the bones of the Jedi, his arms first, then his legs. The rest of his body was left untouched. This was not a kindness, though, merely a way of insuring that death would not come quickly. Finally, the ropes were cut, and the Jedi dragged to one side. He screamed again, as did Qui, as he was moved, both their voices hoarse. Qui was flung down into his place, spread-eagled on the blood-damp floor and tied down. Soon, they would start on him.

For now, thought, there was still work to be done with the Jedi. More screams sounded as he was lifted by his crushed limbs and dropped onto the Wheel. His arms were twisted through the spokes behind him, braided into the spokes like they were made of limp rope rather than flesh and blood. The hands were pulled through to the front, one by the Jedi's hip, one by his face, which was twisted now into a mask of agony. The legs were next, pushed and wrapped and threaded through the Wheel until the creature they belonged to looked more like some huge, grotesque spider than a man. The feet, also, were pulled through to the front. There was no need to anchor them. The Jedi had long since lost any ability to move.

Then, the master-torturer stepped forward and bent over the twisted body. Qui heard fresh whimpers of pain and struggled to breathe against them. When the torturer stepped back, he braved a look, and wished he hadn't. The Jedi's head had been immobilized, bound by coarse rope to the spokes, and thick, white stitches held his eyelids open.

Tears streamed down Qui's face, mirroring those pouring from the Jedi's wide open eyes.

A heavy boot nudged him in the ribs. "Don't worry, swab," a rough voice said. "When we're done with you, we're going to hang you beside him. You'll see him again --- up until the time the crows pick out your eyes."

The guards began to laugh, the sound fading away only as they lifted the heavy Wheel with it's living burden and carried it away, out into the courtyard where the flies and the crows and the spectators could finish the job, adding their own lesser tortures.

My friend, Qui thought, hearing the sound as a second Wheel was rolled in, this one for him. He tried to sent his mind away, to some other reality where he and the Jedi walked in freedom. His heart clinched as he remembered what the young Knight had called him. "My friend . . ."

He came back to himself, drenched in sweat and freezing cold, to find himself wrapped in Obi-Wan's arms. He tried to move, tried to reach up to wipe away the tears that trickled in a steady stream down his face, but his arms were trapped.

"Shhh," that soft, lilting voice said near his ear. "All is well, Qui. We're both safe."

He craned his neck for a look. Obi-Wan smiled down at him, though there were tears on the Jedi's cheeks as well. "How long . . ." he started to say, but broke off at the rawness of his throat.

"Nearly a day," Obi-Wan said, reaching up with one hand to tenderly dry his face. "But, I think the worst is over now." He helped Qui sit up, unwrapping the blanket that had pinned the former slave's arms. "Could you eat something, do you think?"

Qui's stomach heaved at the very thought, and Obi-Wan sighed.

"No, I suppose not." The Jedi eased out from behind him, getting slowly to his feet as if his joints were stiff. "Some water, then."

But when he returned with a cup, Qui turned his head away. "Can't," he managed to grate out.

A hand ran through his damp hair, strangely soothing him. "Try for me, please?" Obi-Wan said, sitting down beside him again. "You can't afford to let yourself get dehydrated."

Qui didn't really know what that word meant, but he sipped at the water, feeling it relieve some of the burning in his throat even as it made his stomach cramp again. Then, the cup was eased out of his hand and he felt himself being settled into bed.

"Sleep, Qui," he was ordered, and a strange wave of sleepiness washed over him. Eyelids that were suddenly too heavy closed without his permission. "Shhh. It's all right," that soft voice said. "Just sleep. I'll be here when you awaken."

Warm, comforting darkness pulled him under, and he knew no more.

Qui awoke to the sound of soft snoring from somewhere quite nearby. He raised his head, wincing at the stiffness in his neck, and looked around at the interior of the small ship as if seeing it for the first time. He noticed the recessed banks of overhead lighting, the sharp, crisp corners of the cabinets and the woven texture of the blanket that he was wrapped in. To his left, through a small open doorway, he could see the instrument panel that Obi-Wan had used to lift them off the planet surface and launch them into space.

Obi-Wan.

Qui looked behind him, turning as slowly as he could so as not to awaken the sleeping Jedi who was lying at his back. He let his eyes travel over that now familiar face. The blue-green eyes were shut, but there were dark shadows beneath them. The long locks of reddish gold hair that Qui so admired were splayed across the pillow. The mouth, with its soft, moist lips, was parted slightly, a thin trail of drool escaping from one corner.

He smiled. He had never before thought that a man could be beautiful, but this one certainly was. And not merely on the outside. No. Obi- Wan was beautiful through and through, a vision of pure light in an otherwise dark world.

Getting to his feet, Qui took stock. He felt, well, pretty damn good, all things considered. Stiff and sore, to be sure, but the cramping in his stomach had stopped and the ache in his abused body was no more than a memory. But, he was hungry! He crossed to the food area and withdrew two plates and two cups. He didn't really know how one made tea, but after a few false starts, he managed, although it was a little too strong. Soon, he had the plates filled with sliced fruit and cheese and some more of that wonderful, soft bread. Taking the steaming cups to the table, he crossed to awaken the young Jedi.

"Master?" he said softly, blushing with pleasure at being able to call him that. For Qui was a Padawan now, although he was only guessing what that word meant. He understood the meaning a little from Obi-Wan's memory of the past, which Qui had witnessed through their bond. It meant "learner," "student," "loved one." He smiled. He'd never been cared for before, let alone loved. His smile widened as Obi-Wan stirred, his eyes opening.

"Good morning," the Jedi said, swinging his feet off the bed as he sat up. He eyed Qui critically. "My, don't you look better!"

"I feel better, too," Qui told him, blushing again under the close scrutiny. "Everything seems --- clearer, I guess. Clearer and easier and just --- more."

Obi-Wan laughed. "The Quietin has finally worn off. Now, you're ready to begin your training, if that's what you still want."

"Oh, yes! More than anything!"

"Don't be so quick to answer, Qui. Now that your head is clear and your mind functioning properly, there are things you must know."

Uh oh, Qui thought. Here it comes. Here's where he tells me he doesn't really want to train me. That I'm not good enough . . . He forced himself to stay silent and wait. Eventually, Obi-Wan continued.

"Training to be a Jedi is a long, hard journey, Qui. And the life isn't easy. It is one of service and sacrifice. And, there are those who will hate you for what you are. You will be hunted, just as all Jedi are, and danger will be everywhere, just around the corner."

Qui moistened his lips. "Do you think I can do it?" he asked hesitantly. "Become a Jedi, I mean."

"I know that you can, if you want to badly enough."

"I do," Qui said quickly. "Please. I do."

"You will have to take a vow of obedience to me," Obi-Wan said, looking deeply into Qui's eyes, making sure he understood. "You will have to obey me even when you think I am wrong. You may question my actions, but you must trust me to make the right decisions. Can you do that?"

Wide eyed, Qui nodded.

"I will also make a vow to you, as my Padawan. To protect you and teach you until you are a Knight yourself. Many of the things I will teach you will be hard for you, especially since you were not raised in the Temple like most Padawans. Are you willing to work hard, for long hours, and for at least several years?"

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Then, it shall be done." The Jedi tilted his head. "I sense there is something else you wish to know."

Qui took a deep breath. He didn't know if he was supposed to question a Jedi, let alone a Jedi who was now his Master. But a question had been plaguing him ever since he'd awakened. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Why did you risk so much to save me?" he asked, wincing with the realization that the question sounded almost accusatory. But, once again, Obi-Wan seemed to hear his meaning more than his words or tone.

"I felt you, Qui, when my ship landed. The Force led me to you."

"But, why?"

Obi-Wan's face tightened. "I wish I could answer that, Qui. It's ---" He looked up and shrugged. "There's something between us. You've felt it yourself. A bond of some sort formed between us the moment my ship touched down. I can't explain it, except to say that I feel like I've known you for a long time. We were meant to be together, I believe, as Master and Padawan."

Qui beamed. "That's good! I think so, too!"

"Good," Obi-Wan said, getting to his feet. "Then, perhaps we should get started."

"Could we eat first?" Qui asked shyly. He nodded his head toward the table. "I've already got it ready."

Obi-Wan looked past him, and Qui felt a wave of delighted surprise through their link. It made his smile widen even further. "So you do. Very well. I am hungry. How about you?"

"I'm always hungry!" Qui told him.

Together, the two sat and dug into their meal. Qui was careful this time to eat more slowly and to chew and swallow before speaking. Still, he finished his plateful before Obi-Wan did. He tried not to gaze longingly at the food still on his Master's plate. Apparently, he didn't succeed, for a moment later Obi-Wan handed it to him.

"Finish it, if you want," the Jedi said. "You need to gain some weight."

Qui glanced down at himself as he popped a piece of cheese into his mouth. He'd never really thought about himself as too thin. But he noticed the way Obi-Wan's clothes fit him. They weren't really tight, despite the fact that he was much taller and wider built than the younger man. He made short work of the second serving and raised his arm to wipe his mouth. A hand caught his wrist.

"Here," Obi-Wan said with a twinkle in his eyes. He pressed a soft cloth into Qui's hand. "Use this instead of your sleeve."

"Yes, Master," Qui said, watching as Obi-Wan smiled at the term. "Can we start my training now?"

"Impatient, aren't you?" Obi-Wan chuckled. "And, it's 'may we start my training.' Very well. Take the dishes to the sink, run the sonics over them, then put them back where you found them. Then, you may join me in meditation."

Qui's face immediately fell. He remembered well that he had failed the first time he had tried to meditate. He didn't want to fail again. Obi-Wan seemed to pick his thoughts out of the air. He reached over with one hand to cup Qui's cheek.

"You won't fail, Padawan," he said, the title drawing a grin from Qui despite his nervousness. "It's a learning process, like anything else. If you don't get it right away, you will eventually."

Qui nodded, not convinced but unwilling to argue. He cleaned the dishes then went to kneel before Obi-Wan, just like he had the first time, with their knees touching. Once again, Obi-Wan reached out and took both of Qui's hands in his.

"Remember the door I told you to open in your mind, Qui?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Open it now. Imagine that you can see and feel the whole universe."

Qui struggled to obey, but all he could think about was the likelihood of failure, and what that might mean to his future.

"Relax," Obi-Wan told him, his voice firm but kind. "Take a deep breath then release it. Imagine all your fears and worries escaping with that breath."

Qui did as he was told, and a moment later, his breath caught in his throat as a warm presence invaded his thoughts.

// Can you hear me, Padawan? // the presence said in Obi-Wan's voice.

"Yes!" he said. But, his voice sounded much too loud in the silence of the ship. He clamped his lips shut tightly and tried to reach out to that presence, furrowing his brow with the effort. // Yes, // he tried to send. Immediately, a rush of warmth and approval swept over him.

// Very good, Qui! You're a natural at this! //

// I - I am? //

// Yes. I learned how to do this when I was a child, but very few people manage thought transmission on the first try, or even the second. //

// So, I did okay? //

He felt rather than saw Obi-Wan smile. // Better than okay. Now, just follow me and we will meditate on the nature of the Force. //

// Yes, Master. // Another flush of approval, this time tinged with a fondness that made Qui's heart fill to near bursting, flooded his mind. He knelt there on the soft, cushioned floor, his hands nearly dwarfing the smaller ones that held them, and let the young Jedi guide him into places he'd never been before. He heard, somehow, the song of life from the universe, felt it in his brain, saw it with eyes that were still closed. It was wondrous! Finally, after a period of time that seemed long and yet not nearly long enough, the hands released his. He opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan smiling at him.

"You did well," Obi-Wan said, and Qui felt his face stretch into a wide grin. "Do you feel ready to begin your lessons?"

"Sure!" Qui said, then he caught himself. "I mean, yes, Master."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Then, come, my Padawan. I believe I promised you a reading lesson."

For a long time they sat side by side, something that Obi-Wan called a datapad in his hand. He showed Qui what words looked like, and taught him the meaning of many of them. It was difficult. Qui wasn't used to learning, and reading was entirely foreign to him. But, he bit his lip and concentrated hard, hard enough to finally give himself a headache.

"Enough for now," Obi-Wan said, switching off the datapad.

Qui bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I told you I wasn't very smart."

Fingers clutched his chin and made him raise his head. Obi-Wan's blue- green eyes bored into his. "You are smart, Qui. In fact, you are very smart. You did extremely well with your reading lesson. But, you can't learn everything at once." He smiled. "Come. I've got a different kind of lesson in mind. Would you like to learn how to manipulate objects with your mind?"

Qui had no idea what that meant, but it sounded wonderful. He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Master." He let Obi-Wan lead him back to the table and took a seat opposite him. Then, he watched in amazement as Obi-Wan extended a hand and a cabinet door opened. A metal cup floated over and landed on the table.

"Look at the cup, Qui," the Jedi said. "Imagine it floating in the air."

Qui struggled to comply, clinching his fists with the effort. But Obi-Wan interrupted him.

"No. Not that way. You can't do it with brute strength. Relax and open that door in your mind. Feel, don't think. Allow the Force to fill you."

The former slave nodded. He made his tense muscles relax and turned his concentration inward. He thought about that door, thought about the wondrous things he had seen and felt during his meditation. Then, he thought about the cup rising up from the table top.

A loud clatter broke his concentration. Startled, he turned toward the source of the sound. The cabinet doors had flown open and all the metal plates and cups and eating utensils were scattered across the countertop. Horrified at the mess he'd made, Qui reacted out of instinct. Pushing back from the table, he threw himself to his knees, prostrating himself before his Master, awaiting his punishment.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and clinched his fists, waiting for the first blow to fall. Instead, a pair of strong arms wrapped around him as Obi-Wan knelt at his side.

"Oh, Qui, you're not in trouble!"

That took a moment to register. Finally, Qui raised his head to meet the Jedi's eyes. "I'm --- I'm not?"

"No. Never."

"But, I made a mess."

"Was it intentional?" Obi-Wan asked. Seeing the confusion on Qui's face, he rephrased the question. "Did you mean to make a mess?"

"No!" Qui yelped. "I was t-trying to raise the cup!"

"Then, why would you be in trouble?" Qui floundered for an answer. Obi-Wan continued before he could find one. "In fact, I'm really impressed with your ability."

Qui blinked in confusion. "Impressed?" he echoed.

Obi-Wan glanced around at the scattered utensils. "Yes. You used the Force for the first time. Granted, you don't have control of it yet, but you've got to admit, you did manage to move something."

Qui frowned as he took another look. When he glanced back at his Master, Obi-Wan was smiling in a mischievous way that made Qui smile back. "I guess I did, didn't I? Move something, I mean."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Qui my friend, you are going to be a very powerful Jedi some day. And this is just the beginning." He turned back toward the single cup on the table in front of him. "Now, let's try just the cup this time, okay?"

Qui laughed. It sounded wrong coming out of his mouth, but he liked the way it made Obi-Wan's eyes light up. He decided he'd have to do it again, often, just to see that reaction. "Okay, Master," he replied dutifully. Suddenly, the future was looking a lot brighter.

The End (for now)

(What do you think? Want to know what happens when they reach the Temple? Let me know.)