Master Apprentice Archive Out Into Freedom, Part 4 Quick search:

Out Into Freedom, Part 4

by The Rose (rosarocaminis@yahoo.com)

(When last we saw Jedi Knight Kenobi and his new Padawan, Qui was suffering through a vision, reliving in his mind the fateful day that the children of the Temple were stolen away by the black-hooded figures who had just slain all the Jedi present. He recognized the face of one. It was Gregorri, a guard at the prison where Qui had been a slave, and one of the men who had brutalized and raped him . . .)

Qui was trembling, held tightly in his Master's arms, his head pulled forward and down until his cheek rested on a strong but strangely damp shoulder.

"Shhh," Obi-Wan soothed. "It's all right, Qui. It's all right."

Around him, Qui could hear the buzz of conversation. Several other Jedi had gathered around, drawn, he knew, by the strength of his vision. Over the sound of what he realized belatedly was himself sobbing, he managed to catch a few words here and there.

" . . . go and find them . . ."

" . . . hidden . . . Obi-Wan couldn't sense them . . ."

" . . . quickly as possible . . ."

Finally, he lifted his head, blinking tears from his eyes. "Master?" he said, his voice barely a croak.

A hand stroked down the back of his head, soothing him. "Yes, Qui?"

"Someone has to go get the children."

That hand again, stroking through his short hair. "Yes, Padawan. I know." Obi-Wan gestured with his chin toward the others. "They're discussing it." A thumb wiped his cheek dry. "But, don't worry. No matter what, you won't have to go anywhere near that place ever again."

Something in his tone puzzled Qui, and he struggled to reach out through their bond to discern his Master's meaning. It was a fumbling attempt, at best, but at last he found what he sought. His eyes widened in terror. "No!" he shouted, barely noticing when Obi-Wan flinched at his loudness. He thrust himself back to arm's length. "No, Master! You can't go back there! They condemned you to die on the Wheel, remember?"

"Qui, it's all right," Obi-Wan said, clutching his shoulders and using the Force to try to calm him. "I won't be alone." He gestured again toward the other Jedi, all of whom were silent now, listening. "Several of us will go together. Someone here will watch over you while I'm ---"

"No!" the former slave shouted again, holding onto Obi-Wan's arms as if he would never release him. "They'll kill you if you go back!"

"No, they won't, Padawan. I'll be fine. And, so will you."

Qui drew a shuddering breath, feeling the tears start once more. "Please. Oh, please . . ."

"Shhh," Obi-Wan repeated. He drew Qui back into the circle of his arms, but Qui could sense that he was looking over his shoulder at the Jedi gathered behind him. "The planet is Tirthe Prime," he told them. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

Terrified, Qui buried his face in the long, red-gold hair that shrouded his Master's shoulders. His tears refused to stop, his body heaving with the effort to breathe against the sobbing. Distantly, he was aware that his Master was getting to his feet, drawing Qui up with him.

"I promise you, Qui, that everything will be all right," Obi-Wan said. His arm slipped around Qui's waist, guiding him along.

Blinded by tears, clinging to his Master for all he was worth, Qui had no sense of where they were going until he heard a door open and then close behind him. From the change in air pressure on his ears, he knew they had left the corridor and entered a room. Then, he was being pushed backwards onto something soft. "Sit here," he was told. He sensed Obi-Wan moving away, but he returned only a couple of minutes later. A warm mug was pressed into Qui's hands. "Drink, Padawan."

Qui sipped at the hot liquid. It was sweet and creamy and entirely wonderful, but he refused to let it distract him. "You can't go, Master," he said, blinking up at the blurry face above him. "Please. Let the others do it. If you go back there, you'll die!"

The couch dipped as Obi-Wan sat down beside him. A strong hand began rubbing circles in the small of his back. "I'll be fine, Padawan. And, I have to go."

Qui grabbed a handful of Obi-Wan's tunic and clutched it tightly, almost spilling his drink in the process. "No! Please! I can't lose you!" He was losing control again, he knew, but he didn't care. He had to stop Obi-Wan from going. Somehow, he had to stop him!

"You mustn't dwell on your fears, Qui," the young Knight began. But Qui shocked him into silence by leaning forward abruptly and pressing their lips together.

It was over in an instant, more a brief touch than a kiss, and then Qui buried his face in his Master's lap, nuzzling into the folds of his robe. He was pulled away, the cup taken from his hand and set aside. He kept his head down, unable to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. "I love you, Master," he said, his voice little more than a whisper. He heard Obi-Wan clearing his throat.

"And I love you, too, Padawan," the Jedi said, and Qui flinched at the title. "But, this isn't ---" He cleared his throat again. "--- appropriate behavior."

"Appro---?"

"It means, Qui, that it is improper," Obi-Wan explained. "I'm your Master. I'm responsible for your well being, for ---" He broke off, seeing that Qui didn't understand. He sighed. "Masters and Padawans shouldn't have those kinds of feelings for each other. Not the kind your kiss indicated. I care for you deeply, but ---"

Qui lowered his head even further. "But, you don't love me. Not that way."

"It's against the Jedi code of conduct, Qui."

The former slave thought about that. He might not be terribly smart, but he knew enough to know that Obi-Wan hadn't actually said that his feelings weren't returned, just that they weren't allowed. "You're still going back to the prison, aren't you?"

"I have to rescue the children, Qui, just as I rescued you."

Almost bonelessly, Qui slid to the floor, ending up on his knees. He pressed his forehead against Obi-Wan's legs, his eyes shut, and clutched at the couch with both hands. "Please don't leave me, my Master," he pleaded softly. "If you do, you'll die, and I can't live without you."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Oh, Qui, of course you can. But, you won't have to." And then the Jedi was rising, drawing Qui up with him. He sat him down on the couch again. "Stay here. I'll see what there is to eat."

Qui watched through tear-blurred eyes as Obi-Wan disappeared into a smaller room. Only then did the older man look around at his surroundings. "Master, is this our room?"

"Rooms, Qui," Obi-Wan corrected over the clattering of plates and eating utensils. "My old apartment was too small, so we've been given this one. See the three other doors? The one on the left leads to my bedroom, the middle door is the 'fresher, and the door on the right is your room."

Qui blinked at that bit of information, scrubbing his face dry with the back of his hand. "My room?" he echoed uncertainly. On legs that felt rubbery and weak, he made his way to the door and pushed it open. His breath caught in amazement. The biggest, softest looking bed he had ever seen took up most of the space. It was covered in a dark blue spread and had two --- TWO! --- plump pillows. Against the far wall was some sort of chest, and there was a stack of neatly folded clothes on top of it, including a robe in a lighter color of brown than the one his Master wore. The walls themselves were pale blue, like the clear sky he could see out the window, and the rich brown carpet underfoot was comforting on his still bare feet.

"Like it?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

He turned and flashed his Master a huge grin. "It's wonderful!" he said. "Is it really mine?"

"All yours."

Qui nodded, then the delight slowly faded from his eyes. "But, I have to stay in here alone?" He had gotten so used to sleeping near his Master during the flight here, first in Obi-Wan's arms when the withdrawal was so severe, then in the bed next to his. For as long as he could remember, he had always been alone in the prison. Now, the thought of it hurt in some way he didn't quite understand.

"I'll be just over there," Obi-Wan said, pointing at his own door. "See?" Qui nodded. "And, while I'm gone, someone else will stay here with you. Perhaps Healer Vortrela. You like her, don't you?"

Qui shrugged dismally, and Obi-Wan reached up to stroke the five days worth of stubble on Qui's cheek. "Come on. I have a meal set out for us. And, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry."

Breakfast was very good, thick sliced hot bread with some sort of fruity spread, firmly cooked eggs and juice. But Qui found that his appetite had fled. He pushed the food around on his plate, eating very little.

"What's the matter?" Obi-Wan asked. "Don't you like it?"

"It's very good, Master," Qui said dully, not looking up. The sound of a heavy sigh reached him.

"You have to eat, Qui. Look, I know you're afraid of being alone. It's only natural that you feel attached to me. After all, I took you out of that hell-hole ---"

"That's not why I feel this way!" Qui objected, turning the full intensity of his gaze on the young Jedi. "I love you, Master! Even if you don't love me, or if you can't, or ---" He shook his head, dropping that line of thought. "But, sometimes I know things. Important things, things that are going to happen. And I know that if you leave here without me, you won't come back!"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You must focus more on the moment, Qui. On the present. The future is difficult to see."

"I've never been wrong before!" Qui challenged.

"Never-the-less ---"

Qui pushed away from the table and leaped to his feet. "If you go without me, you'll die! Maybe you'll die on the Wheel, maybe the prison guards will kill you. But you will die!" With that, he turned and fled to his room, pulling the door closed behind him. The bed was as soft as it looked, he discovered as he flung himself face down on it.

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to sigh again. He'd been doing entirely too much of that lately. Did I give my Master this much trouble? he wondered. He understood what Qui was feeling. After all, Obi-Wan was probably the only person to ever care about him. Qui had been used and abused and mistreated probably for his entire life. Then, a Jedi Knight had come along and swept him away from all of that. Now, he had a warm, safe place to sleep and decent clothes and all the food he wanted --- no wonder he felt so strongly for Obi-Wan. But, it wasn't love. It couldn't be.

Obi-Wan adamantly refused to search his own feelings. Like Qui's, they could be easily explained away. Protectiveness, sympathy for all his new Padawan had suffered, that was all it was. Not love. That other, that instinctive reaction of his body when Qui had nuzzled against his groin, and later, when he had knelt at Obi-Wan's feet, the warmth of his body pressed so tightly against his Master's knees . . .

Even now, thinking back on the incident, it was all Obi-Wan could do to control his reaction. He willed his cock not to fill, willed his breathing to slow back to its normal rate. Wrong. It was just plain wrong to feel this way about one's Padawan.

The sigh he'd been suppressing finally slipped out, and Obi-Wan frowned. Sith damn it, why did the man have to be so appealing?

He reached out along their link and found that Qui was --- well, pouting was the only word that came to mind. That couldn't be allowed to continue. They may not have officially taken their Master/Padawan vows yet, but Obi-Wan was still responsible for the man's well being. The pain Qui was feeling would have to be addressed and relieved and his temper put in check.

Almost reluctantly, Obi-Wan got up from the table and made his way to Qui's room. The man was face down on his bed, absolutely radiating misery. He didn't look up or even move as Obi-Wan entered.

"Padawan?" he said.

"Go away," came the reply, the voice muffled by the bedclothes.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "That is not a proper response," he rebuked, trying to sound firm. "And I require that you look at me when I'm speaking."

Qui obeyed, sitting up and raising his eyes if not his head, his face set into an expression of sheer, petulant disapproval.

Oh, yeah, Obi-Wan thought, definitely sulking. "Padawan, we must discuss your behavior," he began. In answer, Qui folded his arms across his chest, closing himself off as best he could.

"Won't help," he said, his voice flat. "You've already decided."

Obi-Wan sat down, leaving a space of a couple of feet between them. Qui made no move to close the distance. "I made the only reasonable decision, Qui," he said. "It's not safe for you to go back there."

"S'not safe for you, either, but you're going."

"I'm a Jedi, Qui. I don't have the luxury of always being safe. Besides, there will be several of us. Nothing is going to happen to me."

Qui's blue eyes flashed briefly before he hid them under lowered lashes. "I know you're going to die! But, I know you don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you," Obi-Wan tried to explain. He reached out for Qui's shoulder, feeling the older man tense at his touch. "But, the future is difficult for even a trained Jedi to see."

"Not for me!" Qui shouted. "I see the future sometimes! It always comes true! I don't want you to die! I love you!"

Obi-Wan felt his heart skip a beat. He moistened his lips. "We're not going to discuss that again," he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

"Because you don't believe that, either."

"It's not ---" Obi-Wan broke off. Qui wasn't listening, and Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to do about it. He needed to speak to someone about it. He got to his feet and glanced at Qui. "I want you to meditate on your anger, Padawan. I'm going out for awhile ---" Before he could even finish his sentence, Qui's blue eyes went wide with terror. The former slave threw himself to the floor at Obi-Wan's feet and wrapped both arms around his legs as if to anchor him to the spot.

"No! Please, Master! Don't leave me!"

It took a touch of the Force to disentangle himself. "I'll only be gone for a short while, Qui," he said when he was finally able to step back.

"Promise?" Qui asked, a hint of tears showing in his eyes.

"I promise. Now, meditate. I will join you as soon as I return."

He was almost to the door before Qui's next words stopped him. "You're going to HER, aren't you?"

The Knight turned, his eyes narrowing at the grudging tone of the older man's voice. "Her who?"

"That bug-eyed Healer."

"Her name is Healer Bant, Padawan. She is a Mon Calamarian and not 'bug-eyed.' And, no, actually. I'm going to speak with Healer Vortrela."

Qui lowered his head. "About me?" he asked, clearly chastised.

"About --- things," Obi-Wan said, not wanting to go into detail. "I expect you to be deep in meditation when I return." Without another word, he left. He could feel Qui's disappointment follow him through their link but didn't acknowledge it. Soon, he was at the Healer's Wing and knocking at Neesi Vortrela's door.

"I wondered how long it would be," the clear tones of her voice said from behind him. Obi-Wan turned.

"How long it would be before what?" he asked.

"Before you were back asking for advice. Qui's not going to make this easy, you know." She ushered him into her office and sat down opposite him. Her violet eyes bored into his. "He's in love with you."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "He says he is, but . . ."

"No buts about it. I was in his mind, remember? He loves you, Obi- Wan, and not just as his rescuer or Master. Do you feel the same way about him?"

"No! Of course not!" Obi-Wan protested. "He's my Padawan, and I care about him . . . That is to say, he means a lot to me, but . . . Oh, to hells with it! I don't know how I feel!"

Amusement crinkled the corners of the violet eyes. "I think you do. You just don't want to admit it to yourself. But, Qui is a grown man, Obi-Wan, not some teenage Padawan with a crush or a bad case of hero worship. You can't just shrug off his feelings. And you can't wish them away --- his or yours."

"I know." Obi-Wan settled his shoulders. "But, that's not really why I came to see you."

"Oh?"

He shook his head. "Qui claims to have had a vision. He says that if I go without him to Tirthe Prime, I'll be killed. He's adamant about it. Frantic, almost. But, I have to go, Neesi! If the children are there ---"

"Then, take Qui with you."

Obi-Wan was horrified. "Take him with me? Back to the place where he was tortured and raped? Never!"

"Doesn't he want to go?"

"Of course he does! But, that's beside the point! It's too dangerous - --"

"But, not for you apparently."

"That's different! I'm a trained Jedi Knight, capable of taking care of myself ---"

"So, you think you're invulnerable?"

"Of course not! But ---"

"Do you think Qui's lying about his vision?"

"No, but ---"

"You think it's impossible for his vision to come true, since he's not a trained Jedi?"

Obi-Wan, who was despairing of ever getting to finish a sentence again, dropped his head into his hands. "No, Neesi. I don't think I'm invulnerable, I don't think Qui's lying, and of course it's possible that his vision is real." He stopped. All he'd really wanted was some advice. So why did he feel like he'd been hit over the head with his former Master's walking stick? Several times! "You really think I should take him with me?"

"I don't think he needs to be without you right now," Neesi said. She leaned forward toward him. "Take him, Obi-Wan. Leave him on the ship if you don't want to risk taking him back into the prison. But, for Force' sake, don't leave him here feeling abandoned! He's too fragile for that."

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands. "What if something happens to him?"

"You can only protect him so far, even if you are his Master. And Qui's resilient. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be here now."

Obi-Wan felt one corner of his mouth curl up in an irony. "I thought you just called him fragile."

"Emotionally he's fragile. But, he's had to be mentally and physically tough just to survive all these years. Don't you agree?"

Obi-Wan sighed. Force, he told himself. I've got to stop doing that! "Yes, I agree," he said finally. "But, that doesn't make it any easier."

"I know you care about Qui," Neesi Vortrela said as she got to her feet, indicating the end of their meeting. "I think you care a lot more than you want to admit. But, you've got to trust him, too. He needs you to believe in him."

"You're right, of course." He sucked in a lung full of air but caught himself before he could release it in yet another sigh. "Very well. I'll take him with me. Thanks, Neesi --- I think."

She grinned. "You're welcome. Come in any time you feel the need to get beaten over the head with something, okay?"

He chuckled. "I will."

Qui was kneeling in the common room when Obi-Wan returned, trying --- not very successfully --- to meditate. Obi-Wan knelt next to him and easily slipped in through their bond.

// Padawan? // he said into their link.

// I'm sorry, Master, // Qui began immediately, his Force signature radiating remorse. // I shouldn't have argued. I shouldn't have gotten angry. I will obey you and stay behind. //

// Good. Then, will you also obey me if I ask you to come along? //

A trickle of surprised disbelief slipped through their link. In the next second, Obi-Wan was jolted from mediation by a much larger body impacting his own. "Really, Master?" Qui all but shouted in his ear, his arms firmly wrapped around the Jedi's body. "Can I really go with you?"

"Yes, Qui, you may. But only if you agree to stay in the ship. I don't want you anywhere near that prison."

"Thank you, Master!"

Obi-Wan wasn't such a fool as to notice that Qui had not actually agreed to stay in the ship. But, perhaps now wasn't the time to dwell on it. There were always alternatives. He disengaged and got fluidly to his feet, drawing Qui up with him.

"When do we leave, Master?"

"First thing in the morning," Obi-Wan told him, hoping that he wasn't making a dreadful mistake. Take your own advice, he told himself. Don't dwell on your anxieties. Still, a shiver of dread worked its way up his spine at the thought of taking Qui back to that Force- forsaken planet with its vengeful Queen and its sadistic prison guards. It felt like the right decision. But, if that was the case, why was he so afraid?

"Quit fidgeting, Qui."

Rolling his eyes, Qui made himself sit still. He was wearing his new clothes for the first time. They were soft and warm and comfortable. He looked like a proper Jedi Padawan, or so his Master had told him, all but the braid. Qui didn't understand that part. The only thing he didn't like was the boots.

He hated the boots.

For someone who could never remember wearing any sort of shoes, the boots were stiff and tight and hot and they made his feet itch unbearably. "Can't I take these boots off, Master?" he asked plaintively.

"No. You must get used to them. Now, concentrate on what you're doing."

Qui bit his lip and stared hard at the datapad floating in front of him. It was wobbly, to be sure, but somehow he was keeping it aloft.

It was hard. He'd never had to think about anything so much or work so hard at anything. And the infernal itching wasn't making it any easier. He reached back with one foot to scratch his heel against the leg of his chair. Immediately, the datapad fell. Only a quick move by Obi-Wan kept it from crashing to the deck.

But Obi-Wan, he was noticing, had the patience of a saint. Or a torturer.

"Again."

"Master, my feet itch!"

"Don't think about it. Concentrate only on the datapad. Now, try again."

He extended his hand and the datapad rose. Carefully, he floated it across the width of their small ship-board cabin, then back. His big toe itched. He wiggled it. The datapad dropped like a stone.

"Again," his Master ordered.

"I can't. It's too hard."

"Nothing is too hard if you want it badly enough," the Jedi told him.

Not wanting to disappoint him, Qui levitated it again. At the same time, he ground the heel of one boot into the toe of the other, trying to relieve the itching.

"Stop that," Obi-Wan told him.

Qui made himself stop, trying to focus only on the object weaving and trembling in front of him. At last, his control gave out. For the hundredth time, the datapad fell.

"Again," his Master ordered.

Qui bit his lip. Who would have imagined that learning could be this hard? He had to get through this lesson somehow. If he did, Obi-Wan had promised to give him a try with his first practice 'saber. Surely, that would be easier than this. Resolutely, he obeyed, though the main focus of his thoughts was elsewhere.

The ship they were on was much larger than the one that had brought them to Coruscant. There were four cabins --- a good thing since there were seven of them aboard. His Master had introduced him to all of them before they boarded.

Two of the Knights were Obi-Wan's age-mates. There was Bruck Chun with his ice blue eyes and shockingly white hair and Garen Muln, who had been one of Obi-Wan's best friends while growing up at the Temple. The other Knight, Ofen-Drelk, a tall humanoid who's multifaceted eyes made him look like he was constantly wearing workman's goggles, was but an acquaintance, his Master had said. Rounding out the group was Master Veruntl, who was short and stooped and wrinkled. He looked too old to be going, but Obi-Wan said he was still one of the most respected of the Masters, and still very active.

These four had taken the two larger cabins, the ones that had two beds. He and his Master were sharing a much smaller room with only one bed. Qui hid a secret grin that quickly faded as the datapad wobbled dangerously. He certainly wouldn't mind sleeping in his Master's arms again.

Watching the datapad, Qui frowned as he thought about the seventh member of the rescue party. It was, much to Qui's disapproval, his Master's friend Bant. Oh, she was nice enough, he supposed. But Qui hated the way she monopolized Obi-Wan's time when she was with him. He felt a pang of jealousy whenever she touched him or smiled at him or whenever the two of them talked together, seemingly so happy in each other's company.

His Master always seemed to feel Qui's resentment toward her, and it always earned him a frown of disapproval. But, for now at least, he had the Knight's undivided attention, and that suited him just fine.

"Enough for now," Obi-Wan said, reaching up to capture the datapad out of the air just as it was threatening to fall again. "Your concentration is still deplorable, and something we will work on later. But, now, it's nearly time for noonmeal."

"Afterwards, can I try a 'saber?" Qui asked.

"'May I try a 'saber'," Obi-Wan corrected. "And, yes, you may." He rose and headed for the door, with Qui trailing him. "I'm going to have you spar with Bant for the first time, so that I can watch and make corrections."

That stopped the older man in his tracks. "But ---"

Obi-Wan turned, his brow creasing as he felt the wave of resentment that Qui was emanating. "But, what?"

Qui took a deep breath, steeling himself against his Master's disapproval. "I thought it would just be you and me."

"Sometimes, it will be just the two of us training, Qui. Other times, you will train with someone else while I observe. You must learn to work with others, my Padawan."

Rebuked but reveling in the endearment, Qui ducked his head and hid a small smile. "Yes, my Master."

"Good. Now, come. Let's eat. We have another three and a half days before we reach the Queen's prison. There are many things I can teach you in that time."

Without another word, Qui followed the Knight out into the main part of the ship.

The next few days passed all too quickly for Qui, who was getting more and more nervous the closer they got to the Queen's prison. Oh, he didn't wish for one moment that he had been left behind. But, he did wish that none of them had had to go. Except for that bug-eyed Healer. He narrowed his eyes, flashing a glance sideways to see if his Master had picked up on his feelings. That bug-eyed Healer could have come by herself, for all he cared. Maybe then ---

A quick, hard look from Obi-Wan stopped Qui in mid-thought. Unintentionally, he swallowed. He was in trouble again, he knew. The last time his Master had caught him harboring such negative thoughts, Qui had spent the next hour in meditation. He didn't care to have to do that again.

Not that the Healer was all that hard to be around. She was pleasant enough, and often said things that made his Master laugh. Obi-Wan didn't laugh enough. But Qui wanted to be the one to draw that wonderful sound from him.

Uh oh. There was that look again. And this time, Obi-Wan had risen and was on his way over. Qui stilled his mind and schooled his face into what he hoped would pass for Jedi serenity. The first words out of his Master's mouth proved that Obi-Wan wasn't fooled.

"Return to our room, Padawan," he said, holding Qui's gaze with his own. "It seems you need more time in meditation."

Qui glanced over the Knight's shoulder at the bug-eyed --- uh, at Healer Bant --- who was watching the proceedings curiously. "What are you going to do?" he caught himself asking before he could prevent it.

The crease between Obi-Wan's eyebrows deepened. Not a good sign. "I am going to stay here with the others and plan our assault on the prison. Then, we are all going to sit down to latemeal together." Qui opened his mouth to ask a question, but Obi-Wan cut him off. "I will bring your meal to you later. You are not to leave our room until I tell you. Is that understood?"

His tone brooked no argument, so Qui nodded.

"Good. Now, I believe some meditation on anger and jealousy is warranted, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Master," Qui whispered. He turned and disappeared back into the seclusion of their cabin before he could say or do anything else to irritate Obi-Wan. But meditation came very hard to him. In the best of times, he had trouble slipping into the correct mental state without his Master's guidance. Tonight, knowing where Obi-Wan was and whom he was with made it doubly hard.

Still, he did try. He had almost given up when the door to their quarters opened. Thanks heavens, he told himself, as he turned expectantly toward the door. But, it wasn't Obi-Wan who stood there.

"May I come in?"

Qui tried not to frown. "I guess," he told Healer Bant. Then, remembering the manners his Master had been drilling into him for the past few days, he said, "I mean, yes, of course." He stayed where he was, sitting back on his heels as she strolled past him. She was carrying a tray full of wonderful smelling food.

"I thought maybe you'd like some company," she said as she placed the plates and cups on the small table and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her prominent eyes studied Qui for a moment. "I know you don't like me very much," she said when the former slave made no move to rise and join her. "And, that's okay. You don't have to like me."

"My Master likes you," Qui said somewhat ruefully.

"Yes. Obi-Wan and I have known each other nearly all our lives," she said. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "There are a lot of stories I could tell you about him."

Qui felt his eyes widen slightly. "Really?" he said, forgetting for a moment that she was the enemy.

"Um hum." The Healer patted the bed beside her. "But, let's eat first. I made my favorite and I don't want it to get cold."

Without thinking, Qui rose and seated himself next to her. She handed him a plate and watched as he forked a generous portion into his mouth. It was noodles of some sort in a creamy, spicy sauce, dotted with vegetables, and it was entirely wonderful. "You made this?" he asked in amazement, having made a point to chew and swallow first.

"Yes. Do you like it?"

"It's the best thing I've ever eaten!" Qui exclaimed, digging in again.

Bant laughed. "Well, considering that most of what you've eaten has been prison food and your Master's cooking, I'm not surprised." She laughed, then, a delightful sound that made Qui overlook the insult she had just paid his Master. It was a contagious sound, and after a moment, he found himself laughing along with her.

"I thought he was a pretty good cook," Qui said in a low, conspiratorial tone. "But that was before I tasted this." He finished his meal quickly, washing it down the tea she had brought, anxious to get to the storytelling. And some wonderful stories she had, too.

"So, there Obi-Wan was," she concluded some time later, "hanging upside down, suspended by the Force, just a few feet above the stone path. His face was turning a bright shade of purple from all the blood flowing to his head, and his soon-to-be Master walked right up and poked him in the chest with that walking stick he always carried. 'Fall off railings on high balconies you should not'," she said, imitating the Jedi Master. "'Next time here to catch you I may not be. Kill yourself you would.' Then, he proceeded to give him a long lecture about how a Jedi is never supposed to be reckless or a dare-devil."

Qui was laughing so hard that his sides hurt. "He lectured him while he was still hanging there upside down?" he managed to sputter.

"Yes," Bant said, controlling her laughter only a little better than Qui. "It was the funniest thing I've ever seen!"

Qui dissolved into giggles again, then a surge of warning through their bond alerted him that Obi-Wan was headed their way. Immediately, he swallowed his laughter and forced his face into a mask of neutrality. Beside him, Bant did the same. A few moments later, the door opened.

Obi-Wan halted in mid-stride, looking from one face to the other. Qui felt him reach out along their bond, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. The former slave struggled not to laugh as visions of nine-year-old Obi-Wan hanging upside down flashed again through his head. He sucked his cheeks in and bit down on the insides of them.

"Well," Obi-Wan said guardedly, his gaze still flicking from one of them to the other, "I'm glad to see that you two didn't kill each other."

That did it. Qui burst into helpless laughter again, falling back onto the bed and nearly rolling off the edge. Beside him, Bant went into a giggling fit, while at the door, Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and gazed at them both as if they had just turned yellow and grown a second head.

Finally, he cleared his voice. "I'm not even going to ask," he said in a tone of long-suffering patience.

Gradually, Qui became aware that Bant's laughter was dying away. He sat up, bringing himself under control with a supreme effort. The atmosphere in the room had changed, he noticed, grown more serious.

"We've just assumed orbit around Tirthe Prime," Obi-Wan said.

Qui felt a cold shard of terror slash through his stomach.

"The others are trying to locate the children," the young Knight continued. "Bant, we'll need to be ready to go in a few minutes."

She was already rising. "Of course. Let me just gather my things."

"Master?" Qui said, sitting up and pegging Obi-Wan with a look bordering on desperation.

"You'll be staying with the ship, Qui," Obi-Wan said, not looking at him. "Hopefully, it won't take us long."

"Master, please! I want to go with you!"

"We've already been over this, Padawan," the Jedi said as he turned back toward the door. "It's too dangerous for you to go. You can't defend yourself yet, and if things get rough I may not be able to defend you, either."

"But ---" Qui began, but his Master had already left the room. Qui scrambled to his feet and followed. He entered the ship's lounge to find two of the Knights and the old Master kneeling in meditation on the floor. He could feel the Force surging around them, could almost see its waves and bands of swirling color. Obi-Wan approached them and was about to kneel beside them when as one they opened their eyes.

"They're under the prison," Master Veruntl said in his scratchy voice. "Some sort of holding area."

"No wonder you couldn't feel them, Obi," Knight Muln added. "It took the three of us joining forces to locate them. Their Force signature is very faint, almost non-existent."

"Clouded," the white-haired Knight named Chun added. "Almost as if they've been ---"

"--- drugged," Obi-Wan finished. He nodded. "I should have suspected it. Qui was on Quietin when I found him."

Healer Bant gasped at that, her huge eyes settling on Qui's face. "How dreadful," she said, her tone radiating sympathy.

"It --- wasn't pleasant," Obi-Wan said, not going into detail. "If they have the children drugged, perhaps they haven't yet warped their minds and turned them."

"They have not," Master Veruntl said. He got to his feet, his knees creaking audibly at the movement. "The children still serve the light, but they are afraid. Afraid and lost and almost without hope."

Knight Ofen-Drelk called to them from the ship's cockpit. "Strap in," he ordered. "We're going to be making a rather vertical descent."

No sooner had Qui gotten his crash restraint fastened than the ship tipped almost onto its side and seemed to drop out from under him. He clutched at his seat, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Then, the ship nose dived, and his lungs seized up.

"Breathe, Padawan," Obi-Wan urged softly from beside him. "It will be over shortly."

Sure enough, within seconds the ship leveled off and Qui felt the barely noticable impact as they landed. The whine of the engines died away and the others all scrambled to their feet. Suddenly aware that not only was his Master leaving him, but that he was leaving him NOW, Qui threw himself to his knees and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan's legs, anchoring him in place.

"Please, Master, let me come with you."

In answer, his grip was pried loose and he was pushed back onto his heels. The others, he noticed, were already descending the ramp. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Qui," Obi-Wan told him. A strong hand stroked his cheek once, then his Master strode away, leaving him behind.

"Master!" he gasped.

"Don't worry, Padawan," Obi-Wan called back over his shoulder. "I'll see you when I return." Then, he was gone, the ramp raising and the hatch closing behind him. Leaping to his feet, Qui raced to the hatch, hitting the button he had seen the others using to open it. He frowned and bit his lip when nothing happened.

// Master! // he screamed mentally, pounding on the button again and again.

// I locked it, Qui, // his Master sent back. // I'm sorry, but you cannot follow me. //

// No, Master! Please! // Qui screamed again into their link. This time, only silence answered him. Trembling, almost numb with fear, Qui turned his back to the cold metal bulkhead then slowly slid down it as his legs gave out. He buried his head in his hands, his face flushing red hot as tears began to flow. That feeling came over him again, that feeling that his Master was lost, doomed. "No," he breathed, shaking his head violently against the strength of the premonition. "No, you can't die, Master. I love you . . ."

How long he sat there he didn't know. But sometime later, his body cold and stiff, Qui jerked upright with a gasp. "Master!" he yelled, his voice echoing in the empty ship. A wave of pain, very strong and frightening, had hit him through the bond he shared with Obi-Wan. He struggled to reach out along it, needing to know more. All he felt was more pain, scorching through his right shoulder and setting his whole arm on fire.

He lurched to his feet and hammered at the hatch release. When it remained resolutely closed, he beat his fists against the barrier until they bled, finally pressed his face against it in exhaustion. "No . . ." he moaned. He sent out another probe, but failed this time to touch his Master's presence.

He pushed away from the hatch. "I won't give up," he told himself aloud. "Master says that nothing is too hard if I want it bad enough. Well, I want this." He concentrated, harder than he ever had before, on the locking mechanism of the hatch. He had no idea what it looked like, had no idea where it was exactly or how it worked. But, he allowed the Force to flow through him and concentrated only on the image of the door releasing and the ramp lowering.

He began to sweat, his hands began to tremble. He clinched them into fists and concentrated even harder. He refused to believe that it wouldn't work, refused even to consider it. It would open! It would . . .

He heard a dull click and jumped back as the hatch finally released. He was down the ramp and running toward the prison before rational thought could even catch up with him. There was the very same tunnel that he and Obi-Wan had escaped through. The new grate that had been welded over it was sliced away, the cuts lightsaber clean. He charged ahead, blinking in the near darkness of the tunnel. A warning tingle halted him just inches before he tumbled through a hole that had been cut in the floor. He peered inside, into a storeroom of some sort.

Without hesitation, he dropped through, letting his bent legs absorb the impact. The door ahead of him stood ajar, allowing in a band of light. He pressed his eye to the opening --- and felt his heart catch in his throat.

His Master, unconscious and bloodied, was lying in a crumbled pile on the floor. Standing around him were seven prison guards, including Gregorri and the master-torturer.

"Find the others!" the latter growled, gesturing wildly with one arm. "I want those children back!"

"Yes, sir!" someone said, and six of the guards dispersed, leaving only Gregorri behind.

The master-torturer nudged Obi-Wan none too gently with his toe. "We're going to have fun with this one," he leered. He wedged his toe under the Knight's ribs and levered him over onto his back. From his hiding place, Qui gasped in silent outrage. A bloody, smoking wound in his Master's right shoulder sent a stab of sympathetic pain through Qui, and he had to stifle his groan. He listened as the torturer continued. "This time, we're going to guarantee that he can't run away from us." He pulled out a wicked looking knife. "In, fact, I'm going to make sure he never runs again."

He stooped suddenly and rammed the knife hilt deep into Obi-Wan's knee.

"NO!" Qui screamed, feeling the pain even if his unconscious Master didn't. He surged out of his hiding place as both men whirled to face him. He thrust out a hand, trying to Force-shove them away from Obi- Wan. But he was too upset to properly channel the Force. Instead, he threw himself into a low dive, taking Gregorri's legs out from under him. He saw the torturer step up, saw the shadow of something descending toward his head, and tried frantically to duck.

He wasn't fast enough. Something hard and heavy connected with the back of his head, and he plunged forward into darkness, knowing that he had failed.

(TO BE CONTINUED)