Master
Apprentice  Archive
Out Into Freedom, Part 3
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Qui was sleeping, happily dreaming of moving objects with his mind, of speaking to others with his thoughts, and of his Master's beautiful smile. A soft voice calling his name awakened him.
"Qui? Come on, get up. I want you to see this."
He sat up, coming awake quickly as he had always done, as his life at the prison had always forced him to do. Staying on that thin, filthy mattress that they had provided for him one single second too long was a certain way to bring on any number of unpleasant things; a drenching with ice cold water, a boot in the ribs, the slash of a whip across his bare back. He had learned early. But, this was no angry guard standing over him. Never again, he thought as he smiled up into the face above him.
"Good morning, Master," he offered, seeing the barest glint of humor come into the blue-green eyes. Obi-Wan, he knew, still found it curious that his new Padawan was so many years his senior.
"Good morning, Padawan," came the warm response. Then, Obi-Wan was gesturing to him. "Come up to the cockpit. We've just dropped into orbit around Coruscant."
Coruscant! Qui thought with a shiver of anticipation. Coruscant, and the beginning of my future! Obediently, he rose and followed the smaller man. Stepping into the small cockpit, he froze, his breath catching in his throat. Ahead of him was a glowing world, lit by millions upon millions of lights. It was as if the whole surface was covered in lit candles, and it was the most incredible sight he had ever seen.
"It's --- it's ---" Words failed him, and he closed his mouth.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said, his hand finding Qui's shoulder and squeezing it gently. "And if you think it's amazing now, wait until we land."
Qui gulped, excitement sending little tremors up and down his spine. Then, he felt himself flush fiery red as his empty stomach announced itself. To his relief, his Master chuckled.
"Go and get yourself some breakfast, Qui. You have a lot of missed meals to make up for," Obi-Wan said as he slipped into the pilot's chair. "Bring it up here, though. I don't want you to miss anything."
Qui nodded enthusiastically and hurried back to the ship's small food unit. A few minutes later, he returned to the cockpit with two heaping bowls of stew. Obi-Wan had taught him to make it just last night. It was wonderful stuff, nothing at all like the watery sludge that had passed for stew in the prison. This was full of vegetables and chunks of meat floating in a thick, spicy broth. Just the aroma was making Qui's mouth water. He handed his Master a bowl, gaining a smile in return, and sat down to dig hungrily into his own.
As the ship dipped lower into the atmosphere, two amazing things begin to happen. The first was that the millions of lights began to resolve themselves into buildings --- impossibly tall buildings --- and line upon line of vehicles, each in a hurry to go somewhere. The second was more difficult for Qui to understand. A --- feeling --- came over him, a sort of buzzing in his skull that made it feel like it was growing and expanding all out of proportion with his body. He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward for a closer look at the planet- wide city, trying to get an answer to this strange sensation.
"It's life that you feel," Obi-Wan said softly, once again picking up on Qui's feelings. They had worked last night on strengthening the former slave's nearly nonexistent shields, but apparently they hadn't made much progress. "You feel the life-forces of billions of beings, Qui. The song of the Force."
Qui nodded mutely. It was all a little overwhelming.
"Don't worry," his Master was continuing. "Soon, you'll learn how to filter out the roar." Then, he extended one elegant hand and pointed. "There. That's the Temple."
Qui followed the aiming finger, and his eyes grew wide. It was --- it was --- "Beautiful!' he gasped. The towers, so slender and tall, rising into the sky like stationary columns of smoke. He watched, unable to tear his gaze away, as his Master expertly maneuvered their small craft through the traffic and towards a large landing port. He braced himself as Obi-Wan pivoted the ship, clutching the arms of the chair as if expecting a rough landing instead of the gentle touchdown that followed. Obi-Wan grinned at him as he stood up.
"Ready?"
Qui nodded hurriedly, nearly tripping over his own feet in an effort to follow the Jedi through the ship to the landing ramp. He stopped in the hatch as the first sounds of Coruscant washed over him. The whistle of the wind past the buildings, the roar of thousands of ships, the hum of life, all sounded foreign to him, but entirely wonderful. Even the smell was strange. The smell of freedom, he thought, his nose twitching as the unfamiliar odors. Then, Obi-Wan led him down the ramp, and Qui had to shield his eyes.
Sunlight, the first he had ever felt, unless you counted those weak rays that sometimes shone through the high windows in the prison walls, bore down on him. He lifted his head, reveling in its warmth on his face, seeing the glow of it even though closed eyelids. "It's wonderful, Master!" he said, relieved that he hadn't shouted it.
"Come," Obi-Wan said. "I have much to show you."
They stepped inside, and into another world. Peace settled over Qui like a blanket. Obi-Wan had called it the song of the Force. Qui grinned. It was wonderful, indeed. They stepped into a disserted corridor, and pain slammed into him from all sides. He thought he cried out, but he couldn't be sure. All he did know was that he dropped like a stone to his knees, barely feeling the painful impact, and then he was clutching his head with both hands.
"No!" he screamed. There were hands on his shoulders, a voice shouting in his ear, but he couldn't respond. He felt them die, all those Jedi. He could hear the hiss of lightsaber against lightsaber, could feel the sudden pain of a severed arm, a skewered chest. He felt the frantic calls that went out --- calls for help, for reinforcements. He saw, through eyes gone blurry with tears, the dark- robed others, their hoods obscuring their faces. His arms ached with the effort at holding his own weapon high, his hands registering yet another impact against it, driving him back.
Around him, he could see others falling. Friends, companions, both young and old alike. Dying. All of them dying. The song of the Force grew distant, weak. Blackness seeped into his vision, and Qui dropped like a stone as if finally enveloped him.
It was some time later when he awakened. He was lying down, that much he knew, on something soft yet unyielding. He could feel Obi-Wan nearby, his Force presence anxious. There were others, too, unfamiliar ones, and a strange scent in the air --- metallic, medicinal. He pried open his eyes.
"Rest easy," Obi-Wan told him. He watched his Master take a relieved breath, but there was a worry line between his eyebrows.
"What happened?" Qui asked, wincing at the raspy tone of his voice.
"You blacked out on me," his Master explained. "Some sort of vision, triggered by entering the Temple." He glanced to his right, and one of the other two people in the room stepped into Qui's field of vision. She was a small woman, several inches shorter that Obi-Wan and slight of build, with pale skin that almost glowed in the room's artificial lighting. Her wide violet eyes were warm and friendly. "Hello, Qui," she said. Her voice was clear and high- pitched, and reminded him of the distant bells he had sometimes heard from somewhere outside the prison. "I'm Healer Vortrela. Can you tell me what happened?"
Qui glanced at Obi-Wan uncertainly.
"You can trust her, Qui," the Jedi assured him. "Neesi was my Healer while I was a Padawan. She won't hurt you."
Qui nodded. "I --- felt them die," he said, not certain how else to put into words what he had experienced.
"You felt who die? The Jedi?"
He nodded. "Yes. It was like I was there, like I was fighting with them. I saw the men in black robes and hoods and I heard the lightsabers and smelled the burning flesh and . . ."
"Shhh," the Healer urged him, and Qui realized that his voice had been getting louder and louder. He blushed. "It's all right," she said. Then, she smiled, though it was a sad sort of smile. "That's some empathic sense you have there, Qui."
The former slave glanced at his Master, confused. "She means," Obi- Wan explained, "that you feel things that are happening to others."
Qui nodded. Yes, that had happened many, many times at the prison. He had often felt the pain of tortured, dying prisoners, felt the agony of their parched throats as they were denied water, felt each cut and bruise and lash mark as if it were his skin that was being slashed and whipped and kicked. He swallowed. But, that had always been as it was happening, or occasionally before, as a painful sort of foresight. Never after the fact.
Once more, his Master seemed to be following his train of thought. "The deaths of so many often leave a residual effect, Qui," Obi-Wan said. "Sometimes, someone who is powerful in the Force can feel things that happened in the past, see them as if they are happening now. Usually, it takes much meditation before we can do so. With you, it seems to come very naturally."
Qui nodded again and lifted his head, trying to look around. But a flash of brilliant white pain streaked through him from temple to temple. He gasped, then felt himself being pushed gently back down on the bed.
He heard Obi-Wan's voice as if from a great distance. "Lie still, Padawan. The Healers want to check you over, then I want you to rest here for the night before we go back to my quarters."
That made his eyes open. He sniffed the odd smelling air. "But, I don't want to stay here."
"I know. Most people don't. But it's necessary this time." Obi-Wan stepped away from the bed and another person approached. This one was female also, but not human. She had a high-domed head and skin that was pinkish-gray. A faint smell of moisture and salt clung to her. But it was her wide-set, bulbous eyes that startled him the most. They reminded him of the green roaches that infested the Queen's prison or of the prisoners whose eyelids had been sewn open so the crows could feast on their eyeballs.
"Who ---" Qui began, but he stopped himself. It probably wasn't right to question everything, since his Master had told him to let them examine him. But he distrusted strangers. He dug his fingers into the sheets to keep his hands from trembling. Immediately, a wave of comfort rolled over him, coming from Obi-Wan.
"This is Healer Bant," the woman with the violet eyes said. "This won't hurt, Qui. We're just going to make certain that you're not injured."
"I'm not," he said. He tensed as their hands touched him, prodding at his knees and making him aware of their ache. He bit his lip, wanting to ask them to please stop but knowing he probably shouldn't. He had endured far worse in his lifetime. His gaze flickered to meet his Master's.
"Easy, Qui," Obi-Wan soothed softly. "You're doing fine. Just relax and breathe."
Qui sucked in a hasty breath, but it left him a second later as a mind brushed briefly across his own. The touch was terrifying, but gone before he could make his body react. Then, the Healers stepped back from the bed. The one named Vortrela turned toward Obi-Wan.
"He's fine," she said. "Some bruising on his knees that Bant has mostly healed already. The rest will be gone by morning. As for the rest ---" She shrugged. "--- some residual pain and disorientation. Nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure."
"Good." Obi-Wan stepped up to the bed again, his hand finding Qui's shoulder. "Do you hear that? You're going to be fine. All you need is rest."
"Can't we go to your room, Master?" he said, knowing he was letting his fear lead him. Obi-Wan had told him that he shouldn't dwell on his fears, but he couldn't help it. He didn't like it here.
"Tomorrow," Obi-Wan said firmly. "But, if it will help, I'll stay here with you tonight."
Qui sucked in a relieved breath. This place might be frightening, but at least he wouldn't be alone. He could face anything as long as Obi- Wan was beside him. "Okay," he said in a small voice.
"I'll get you a chair," the one called Bant said just before she left the room.
"Rest well, Qui," the one with the violet eyes said, smiling down on him. Then, she looked up at Obi-Wan. "Could I speak with you for just a moment, please? Outside?"
"Of course." To Qui he said, "I'll be right back. Just stay in bed, all right?"
Qui responded with a quick, nervous nod, and then he was alone. But, if he strained his ears, he could hear them, just outside the door.
"If he's that emphatic," a female voice said, and Qui recognized it as Healer Vortrela, "maybe he could ---" this part he couldn't quite hear "--- and give us a lead."
"No." That was his Master's voice. "You saw what it did to him! I won't risk ---" something, something "--- out of the question."
"But, no one's found even a trace of them," the Healer said. "Obi- Wan, we have to ---" Whatever else she said was drowned out as the bug-eyed girl returned, dragging a heavy chair and carrying a blanket in her flipper-like hands.
"This is for your Master," she said as she positioned the chair next to the bed and draped the blanket over the back. "There's blankets for you in that closet." She pointed. "But, have your --- um, your Master --- get them for you." She seemed to be fighting a grin, and Qui flushed, realizing that Obi-Wan might be teased for having such an old Padawan. She turned away before she saw it, pausing to let Obi- Wan step back into the room. "Goodnight, Master Kenobi," she said, and this time she was obviously making fun of him. Qui felt anger tighten his chest. In the next moment, Obi-Wan was staring down at him, his expression stern.
"Don't be angry with her, Qui," the Jedi said firmly. "Healer Bant and I are old friends. She's entitled to tease me a little if she wants. It's nothing against you, I assure you."
"But, she thinks I'm too old to be a Padawan," Qui said. "They both do."
"In days passed, you would have been. But, things change. Now, we need all the Padawan learners we can get, even if some of them are older than their Masters." Obi-Wan took the blanket off his chair and spread it over Qui, tucking it in loosely around him. "Now," he said in a no-nonsense tone, "I want you to sleep. Okay?"
"I'll try, Master," Qui said before he caught himself.
Obi-Wan's brows rose. "Remember what I said about trying?" he asked.
Qui sighed heavily. "Yes, Master. 'Do or do not. There is no try.'"
Obi-Wan laughed, and Qui felt his heart swell to near bursting at the sound. "Very good. See? Who says you're too old to be a Padawan? Look at how much you've learned already!" The Jedi reached out to stroke Qui's cheek, brushing through the stubble of a four-day beard. "Sleep," he urged, and Qui found himself closing his eyes without thought and easily slipping away into slumber.
Once satisfied that Qui was asleep, Obi-Wan stepped back out into the hallway. Neesi Vortrela was waiting there for him, as he knew she would be.
"Obi-Wan," she said without preamble, "your new Padawan may be the only one who can help us find those children. All I'm asking you to do is take him to the creche ---"
"All you're asking me to do," Obi-Wan interrupted, "is to place him in a position where he may well feel more pain." He shook his head. "That poor man in there has suffered enough. You have no idea the kind of life he's led. The things he's seen, the abuse he's suffered --- it's enough to drive most men over the edge. But he held on, somehow, and survived. I won't ask him to do this."
"But, what about the children?"
Obi-Wan sighed, clearly torn. "Has no one found a trace of them yet?"
"No," Neesi said. "It's as if they disappeared completely."
"Maybe they did," Obi-Wan said. "Maybe the dark warriors dragged them away and killed them. And if they did, do you really expect me to subject Qui to that kind of pain? Do you want him to experience the deaths of all those innocent children?"
"They're not dead. We'd have felt it if they were."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But, I just can't ---"
"Will you at least ask him about it?" Neesi persisted. "Let him be the one to make the decision?"
"That's just it," Obi-Wan told her, glancing at the closed door that separated him from his new Padawan. "Qui never made any decisions for himself before he met me. He never had the chance to. And he's already made enough life changing decisions, just by starting his training. I won't ask him for more."
Neesi Vortrela studied him for a moment, then gave a reluctant nod. "All right," she said. "That's your decision, as his Master. I just hope it's the right one."
"It will have to be."
"Now," the Healer said, turning the full intensity of her violet gaze on the young Knight. "I sense you have unhealed injuries, too."
Obi-Wan waved off the idea, wanting to get back to Qui. "I'm all right."
As usual, Neesi wasn't taking no for an answer. "This won't take a minute," she said as she caught his arm. For such a small woman, she was surprisingly strong. She towed Obi-Wan into the exam room across the hall and steered him toward the exam table. "Come on. You know the drill."
Obi-Wan let her examine him, tolerated her poking and prodding at the half-healed lash marks and letting her fuss over him for awhile.
"Qui was raped, wasn't he?" she asked as she used the Force to heal the abrasions on his wrists where the metal shackles had been.
Obi-Wan shot her a look. "I thought I healed those injuries."
"Oh, you did, and very well, too." She smiled. "But I have some empathic skill myself, or have you forgotten?"
"No. I remember." He sighed. "They raped him and whipped him for talking to me," he said. "And it wasn't the first time by any means."
"Well, he's quite underweight and a little malnourished. I'll have Bant work you up a nutrition schedule for him, and I'll want to see him on a regular basis to judge his progress. With the abuse he's taken, other problems may show up later."
"I know," Obi-Wan replied softly. He sat up as the Healer stepped back, glancing again at the door across the hall. "When I landed on Tirthe Prime, all I could feel was Qui's pain. His Force presence was so strong, it was like a beacon. I couldn't have left there without him." He glanced up at his long-time friend. "Please tell me that he's not too old to train."
"The Council would have said so. So would your Master," she said with a wry grin, remembering. Then, she sobered. "But, there is no Council anymore, and your Master is one with the Force. If Qui wants to learn, there's no reason he can't. Just be sure that it really is his decision and not merely some well-intentioned attempt to pay you back for saving his life."
A shadow of a frown crossed Obi-Wan's face. "I've considered that." He sighed. "I'll talk with him again, make certain he understands."
"You do that," Neesi Vortrela said as she turned toward the door. "And get him some decent clothes, will you?" she called back over her shoulder with a barely concealed chuckle. "If he gains a couple of pounds, those are going to split in two and fall right off of him." She disappeared into the hallway, but her final words floated back to Obi-Wan. "Can't have a naked Padawan running around the Temple, now can we?"
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
Qui blinked into the unfamiliar brightness of the room, panic clinching his chest for a moment before he remembered where he was. He turned his head to see Obi-Wan gazing down at him. "Can I leave now?" he asked, anxious to be out of this sterile place with its odd smells and probing, prodding Healers.
Twin eyebrows rose. "Impatient aren't you?"
Qui flushed, dropping his gaze to the floor. "Sorry," he murmured. Immediately, Obi-Wan caught his chin and lifted it. To his relief, his Master was smiling.
"Don't be sorry. I've never liked this place, either."
"Really?"
"Really. One of these days, you'll have to ask Healer Vortrela how many times my Master had to drag me in here after I'd hurt myself training." Qui felt his eyes growing round, and Obi-Wan chuckled. "But, all things in their own time. Now, it's time to go, if you're ready."
Qui was off the bed in record time. "Yes, Master. I'm ready." He saw the Jedi Knight resisting the urge to chuckle. "Where are we going?"
"To the Commissary." Seeing that Qui was unfamiliar with that word, Obi-Wan explained. "To eat. I'm not even going to ask if you're hungry, because I know you are."
Qui grinned, feeling himself blush. He followed until Obi-Wan opened the door that would lead them out of the Healer's wing. Here, he stopped, anxiety washing over him like a flood. His Master turned to eye him.
"What is it, Qui?" he asked softly.
The former slave moistened his lips nervously. "Will it happen again?" he asked.
Obi-Wan sighed. "The vision?" At Qui's nod, he continued. "I don't know. I hope not. But, if it does, we'll deal with it. All right?"
Reassured somewhat, Qui nodded. Then, he turned at the sense of someone approaching. It was the bug-eyed healer. She was looking at Obi-Wan and grinning ear to ear.
"You didn't think you could sneak out this morning without talking to me, did you, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan smiled back at her warmly. The look of welcome on his face made something inside Qui hurt in a way he didn't understand. Who was this person, he wondered, and what did she want with his Master? He must have been broadcasting again, for Obi-Wan turned and shot him a disapproving frown. But, he didn't admonish him in front of the Healer. "Qui, can your stomach wait a little while longer? Bant's my best friend and we haven't see each other in ages." He gestured toward a line of chairs against one wall. "You can just wait here, okay? I won't be long."
Qui nodded, biting his lip. He watched as the bug-eyed woman slipped her arm through Obi-Wan's and the two headed off down the hallway, talking and laughing together. Qui already didn't like her. His Master must have overheard his thoughts again, for he turned for one finally frown over his shoulder before he and the Healer turned the corner and disappeared.
I want to be his best friend, Qui thought grudgingly as he sank into one of the hard chairs. He tried to release his anger, as Obi-Wan had told him. He took a deep breath and opened himself to the song of the Force. Distant wisps of sound reached him, and Qui strained his ears. Children? Here? He had thought all the children had been taken. Maybe someone had found them and brought them back!
He glanced down the hallway, wondering if he should try to find his Master and tell him. But, there was no sign of the young Knight, and Qui didn't want to wander around alone in the Healer's wing. Just the thought made his skin crawl. He looked back at the door that separated him from the rest of the Temple. Was he hearing the children with his ears or only in his head? He couldn't tell. Either way, he felt compelled to go and find them.
With one final glance to make certain his Master hadn't reappeared, Qui slipped through the door.
There was a different feel here that inside the Healer's section. He could sense, somewhere just outside his mind, the battle that had gone on here, the one he had picked up on before. He shut out the memory. He didn't want to pass out again. Instead, he concentrated on the children's voices.
They were happy sounds; laughter and singing and lots of high-pitched voices talking at the same time. It made Qui smile to hear it. He'd never even seen a child before, not that he could remember, anyway, and the idea of seeing lots of them made him follow that sound.
Around one corner after the other he went, not really keeping track of where he was going. The voices stopped all at once and Qui halted, tilting his head. Why had they stopped? Had they heard Qui coming? Sensed him? He didn't know. He glanced behind him and bit his lip again. He didn't know where he was. How was he going to get back to his Master? Maybe whoever was with the children could help him get back.
Resolutely, he started walking toward where the children's voices had come from. He had taken only a few steps, however, when the silence was suddenly filled with screams. Horrible, terrified screams, in dozens of voices.
Without thinking, Qui began to run. He rounded one final corner, slipping and skidding on the slick floor, then froze in his tracks. They were gone! Two doors stood open, ripped half off and hanging at odd angles. Toys were strewn about, blankets and dishes and even a few articles of clothing littered the floor. But of the children there was no sign.
Concerned, realizing now that the voices had only been in his head and that the children were long gone, Qui bent to retrieve one soft stuffed toy off the floor. As soon as his fingers touched it, the crystal clear images of another vision shot through his head.
With a cry of pain, Qui dropped, landing again on his knees. He could see them, on the inside of his tightly closed eyelids. The black robed men had been here. He could see them as they ripped off the doors, could hear their lightsabers as they slashed and cut and killed the adults who were watching the children. The screams of the young ones lanced through his head, bringing new agony. They were terrified! Crying, they tried to run. One by one, they were caught, scooped up into arms or thrown across shoulders. One of them reached up and pulled away a black hood, revealing the face of the tall, pot- bellied man who was carrying him.
Qui's heart nearly stopped in his chest. He knew that face! Gregorri!
Instantly, another vision, this one of the past, superimposed itself over the first. That face, that very same face, grinning as he bound a much younger Qui over a heavy wooden table.
"You know what happens when you break the rules, swab," the man said, reaching down to stroke himself through his heavy cloth pants. He looked up as another entered the room. "He's ready for you," he said. Before Qui could even draw a breath, a stinging lash struck him across the bare buttocks. He cried out, unable to stop himself. Again and again the lash struck, and Qui screamed until his throat was raw. Still, the pot-bellied man stood, grinning and stroking himself.
"Now," a harsh voice said from behind Qui, "you will learn your true place in life." Without warning, something hot and hard and incredibly thick was shoved up Qui's unprotected anus. His scream of pain this time was higher and louder, and he thrashed against the coarse ropes that abraded the skin off his wrists and ankles.
Again, the vision shifted, and this time he knew it was the present he saw. Figures were running toward him; Obi-Wan, the two healers, others, from other parts of the Temple, whom he didn't recognize. There was a voice, his Master's voice, shouting Qui's name, both aloud and into their link.
// Here. // he managed to send.
Relief flooded their bond, making Qui smile wearily. The images in his head grew nearer. He thought he could almost hear them now, with his ears instead of his mind. Hands clutched at his shoulders, shaking him. His Master's hands, he knew. Then, other hands clamped down on his head and a sharp mental probe seemed to drill a hole in the top of his skull. Light streamed in, clear, pure light, illuminating the darkness and causing the vision at last to flee.
Gasping, Qui forced open his eyes and the hands left him.
"He'll be all right now," a female voice said. The smell of salt water washed over him, and he knew this must be Healer Bant, the bug- eyed one.
"Qui?" That was his Master this time, his voice full of worry. "Qui? Look at me. Come on, Padawan, look at me."
He struggled to obey. Finally, he forced his gaze upward. Obi-Wan sighed in relief.
"Thank the Force."
"I saw them," Qui said, his senses registering the arrival of others even as his eyes held his Master's. "The children --- I saw them. I know who took them."
There was a collective gasp, and then he was being turned. Healer Vortrela's violet gaze locked with his. "Qui, this is very important," she said, speaking slowly as if to make certain he understood. "You must let me see exactly what you saw in your vision."
He turned his head, surprised to see at least a dozen strangers gathered around him in addition to Obi-Wan and the Healers. They were all watching him intently, and he shifted nervously under their attention.
Healer Vortrela was speaking again. "Qui, I promise I won't hurt you, but will you let me share your vision?"
He felt his brows draw together. What she was asking was impossible, wasn't it? "How?" he asked.
She placed warm hands on his head, one on either side of his temples. "Just think about your vision, and I will see it. Can you do that?"
He wanted to say no. He didn't want to think about it again. But her eyes were boring into his, and he could feel his Master's support from beside him. Hesitantly, he nodded. The violet eyes closed and he felt a foreign mind sweep lightly over his.
"Just think about the children," she said. "I'll do the rest."
Qui closed his own eyes. He concentrated ---
Suddenly, the vision was back. The children were screaming, the adults bravely defending them and then dying one by one. The black- cloaked men catching and grabbing and then carrying their captives away. The one little boy, reaching up and pulling away the hood . . .
"Gregorri!" Qui shouted. He jerked free of the Healer's hands, found himself just as quickly lifted to his feet and enfolded in a comforting grip, tight against his Master's chest. "Gregorri . . ." he said again, this time little more than a whisper. He turned his head to see Obi-Wan's face, just inches from his. "They're at the prison!"
(TO BE CONTINUED)