Summary: Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's normal, everyday mission ends up taking more than just the usual efforts!
Rated: PG13
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Chapter One:
Obi-Wan frowned deeply at the chronometer on the wall. It was long after dark, which came late on this planet to begin with. For nearly 4 weeks now he had had to struggle to learn how to sleep during a night when the sun did not set until 10, then rose again as late as 10. Why these people insisted that this negotiation process begin 6 hours before sunrise did not make one bit of sense to him! His Master/teacher, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been at the talks this day, like all of the last 28 days, from 4 am until sunset… and now he was even late returning according to that grueling schedule! It was after midnight now, and if the schedule held, his Master would have to be back at the negotiation center at 4 in the morning, less than 4 hours from now!
This was supposed to have been a 10 day at the most, nice, normal diplomatic overseeing of a treaty both sides badly wanted and had in essence agreed to before hand - or so the Jedi Council had assured them!
Footsteps trudged slowly down the hall, then the door opened, and in a moment the very tall Jedi Master entered clad in his cream colored tunics, dark brown leggings and his extra warm cool-weather cloak. Obi-Wan quickly rose as he noticed the figure sway a little as the man shouldered the cloak off and away.
"Here - let me take that for you Master - " the 16 year old youth quickly offered, and now the tall Jedi considered him with a very bleary eyed look as he surrendered the robe.
"Oh… Obi-Wan… I'm sorry I am so late. - " He said dully, and the youth frowned at him. His Master, mentor and teacher all-in-one … had looked exhausted for weeks now… but this night he looked noticeably and alarmingly worse. The youth drew in a sharp breath as he considered the lack of color to the one's features, the extra lines in his face, his eyes dull and movements slow and minimal. Even the big Jedi's hands seemed to tremble finely as he sat down heavily on the bed in their shared guest quarters and fumbled with trying to undo the fastenings of his boots
Quickly he gave up, heaving a sigh as he shook his head mildly, an unsteady hand now going to his forehead. Wordlessly Obi-Wan came and knelt, quickly undoing the fastenings with ease. Qui-Gon Jinn was not one to accept help if there was some way at all that he could do it on his own. And right now the youth was frankly amazed the man was even conscious, much less sitting there, struggling with his shoes.
He had already been receiving images of a very loud, tense and long lasting, vehement argument that had gone on for most of the day behind the closed doors of the negotiation room. In his master's muddled mind, the youth could feel the Jedi's utter frustration - and the energy it took for him to suppress it. Now, even now the talks were stalled, and tomorrow promised to perhaps be even worse yet.
"Have you had something to eat Master?" the youth asked him, and at first the one blinked at him as if confused by the question. Finally he nodded, eyes extremely dull, the usual brilliant sky blue having gone the color of blue-grey steel. Obi-Wan gently reached up and released the leather hair tie that held back the older man’s thick, long hair. The silver streaked chestnut colored mane cascaded forward as if to curtain him from further study. Gently Obi-Wan rubbed the spot where the hair had been tied back.
"What? What did you have to eat Master?" he asked, feeling the one's breathing slow as the massage of his scalp relaxed him. Qui-Gon felt as if every bone and muscle and nerve in his body was either on fire… or in the process of turning to goo. He barely even heard the question, and so was surprised when his Padawan leaned over him with a worried gaze.
“How about a bowl of soup and a sandwich - and some sleep?” the youth asked, more gently now, and the elder nodded numbly. Indeed, within 10 minutes they were sitting at the small table where Obi-Wan watched as for the second time the Jedi’s head nodded forward abruptly. The spoon he held slipped limply from one hand and the sandwich with perhaps one bite taken of it rested on the tablecloth in his other.
“Master!” the apprentice said rather loudly, and the one startled awake with a still heavily dazed look and the younger half smiled.
“Take another bite of your sandwich –“ he instructed, and the one seemed to do so rather automatically, then took a few more spoonfuls of the liquid and another bite or two before he started to nod off again. This time the youth rose, gently taking the silverware and food from the limp hands, then gently he pressed the elder back into the chair – the movement waking the Jedi and he frowned as he blinked heavily at the table before him.
“Time to rest I think Master –“ Obi-Wan said pleasantly and the one frowned even more, a vague hint of stubbornness rising in the haggard features.
“No…. not yet. I’m awake…. “ He mumbled as he pushed the chair back and the youth let him, reaching out to steady him as the elder nearly half stumbled at first.
“How – how did your lessons go today Obi-Wan? Weren’t you working on an astrophysics problem?” he asked heavily and the youth smiled and nodded.
“It was fine Master – I’ll show you tomorrow. I finished all my assignments.” the younger told him, and the one looked pleased.
“Did you have dinner?” he asked and the boy nodded.
“Yes Master – just now – with you… but I did have a good sized one earlier.” He said as he drew the one slowly towards the bedroom without the elder seeming to realize.
“Oh… oh, of course… There was something I wanted to tell you – but I can’t remember now…” he said absently as he stopped abruptly and rubbed at an ear, and the youth looked mildly amused.
“I am sorry about how this assignment of ours has turned out Obi-Wan. You must be bored to tears by now nearly.” The Jedi mused with concern in his voice, and the youth smiled as he guided his teacher to sit down on the bed.
“You don’t need to worry about me Master… I must look VERY young to them, considering the youngest of their negotiators is nearly 150 years old!” he observed, and the elder half smiled at him.
“Now I remember Obi-Wan…. There’s a trade ship leaving for Coruscant tomorrow. It occurs to me that perhaps it would be best to send you home. You could at least brush up on your saber skills and attend classes. I’ve been sadly negligent on both counts I am afraid.” He said and the youth frowned at him deeply.
“You have not Master! Not in the LEAST! I was behind when we got here – from the last several missions – but I am not behind now! And I have BEEN keeping up on my sparring skills – in the garden, every afternoon.” He said, and now the Jedi gave him a somber look and shallow sigh.
“Padawan… this is not actually a request. The negotiating team feels your presence is a distraction to me, and that is why the agreement has not been settled. They feel I have not been as effective as I might be, with my concerns for you. They have insisted that I send you home actually.” He said wearily, and now the youth frowned deeply.
“Master, that doesn’t sound right to me. I haven’t felt you reaching out to see what I am doing during the sessions! How can they possibly blame you for their own failure!? Look at you – you’re so tired you can’t SEE straight! What more can they expect of you? I can’t leave you here alone! I really have a bad feeling about this request of theirs. Why do they want you here alone? When it’s obvious you’re exhausted?” he objected darkly, and the elder put an unsteady hand to his forehead and rubbed at it mildly.
“There will be no arguments Obi-Wan… You shall be on the ship … it leaves at sunrise” he said in barely a whisper, and the youth looked deeply concerned as now the elder’s breathing seemed tense and uneven as he kept his head buried in both of his hands.
“Yes Master… if you insist.” He agreed quietly, and the one nodded slowly, making as if to rise from the bedside, then seeming unable to marshal the strength and the youth looked concerned.
“Master – here…. Lie down… it’s alright – I apologize for arguing with you.” He soothed, guiding the elder down onto the pillows, the one’s eyes already closed even before he reached it. Obi-Wan frowned deeply as he stroked the long silvered hair, and he could feel the man’s roiling emotions now as he quickly slid toward sleep, and it did not reassure him. His master had the same ill-born feeling about the demand that he did, was even more upset…. Yet the others had very skillfully left him with no alternative but to comply.
Obi-Wan frowned as the elder half rolled onto his back, his features already relaxing in slumber. The youth did not at all care for the bruised looking areas under the older Jedi’s eyes, nor did he care for the sallow color of his skin - nor the elders’ complete failure to react at any level to his removing the one’s leggings, belt and sash.
Finally the youth drew the warm covers up over the elder, affectionately swept a few stray hairs out of his face, and turned off the nearby light. He would have to think about this indeed… It was very obvious that the strain of these days had taken their toll heavily on the Jedi…. What could be the reason behind the others wanting him alone – now - when he was so clearly more vulnerable than he had been when they first arrived? Or was he being overly suspicious? It just did not feel right to him!
Obi-Wan kept his expression impassive as he stood with his Master, waiting to board the transport shuttle that had just landed at the edge of the clearing in the woods near the conference center's gardens. He had been rather surprised to find he had not only his Master, but also the negotiation group as his escort to the craft. He had not dared so directly disobey his Master as to deliberately miss the shuttle, but it had still surprised him that this entire assembly would convene just to witness his departure. They also made it practically impossible for him to converse at any length with his Master, and then all too soon it was time for him to board.
He had just gone into the ship when he felt a sudden disturbance in the Force, as did the older Jedi. The youth had just looked back, when he realized the man standing to the Jedi's side had pulled a strange type of stun gun, which he aimed at the elder - and abruptly fired. Qui-Gon’s over-weary mind had also sensed the intention, but not until the very last second, when it was too late. He had barely turned when suddenly a blast of an electric-like bolt of pain hit him squarely in the chest, instantly collapsing his body and sending his mind whirling into black oblivion. He did not even feel himself hit the stone littered ground.
Obi-Wan shouted out a warning, turning to rush back down the ramp, intending to go to his Master's defense, drawing his saber even as he reacted instinctively, only to find every member of the negotiation team now holding blaster guns aimed at him.
"Move one step down that ramp, and he dies child!" one growled, giving the limp Jedi a kick to the middle that rolled him over limply onto his back, his head lolling heavily towards his shoulder. Obi-Wan froze even as he stared, holding his own breath until he saw the elder's chest rise and fall shallowly.
"Why? What do you intend to do with him? He’s hurt – you must let me -" he started in a gruff growl, and now one of the other side's negotiator's members smiled as if satisfied.
"Long we have heard of the great mind powers of the renowned Jedi Masters of your order. ‘Communal Indenture’ has been a part of our traditional history, for both of our people for centuries - until we joined the Republic anyway! And our economy has declined ever since! Both of our peoples have decided to return to the more prosperous ways of our ancestors… only with a more civilized approach! THAT is the treaty we had agreed to before your arrival. We shall use the Jedi Master to influence the minds of the people and tribe leaders we have our 'Grand Selectors' meet with and interview. Thus they shall agree very readily to give us the people we select as 'chosen citizens'. Return home now boy - inform your Council that THIS Jedi has been selected as a 'chosen citizen’. Our ancient laws have always decreed that any off-worlder that remained planet-side for 1 full moon cycle - 28 days or more - was eligible for selection as such… and he has been here for that time period! For that matter, so would you be eligible - except for your age! Those under the age of legal responsibility are exempt, as their location is rarely under their control." He said smoothly, and the youth scowled deeply.
"You cannot hold my Master as a slave!" he half shouted forcefully, and all smiled at each other as if amused by him.
"Communal Indenture is a far cry from slavery my child… as I am sure your Master will appreciate. In the method of Indenture, one serves for a period of time in exchange for something…. or to work off some debt or obligation. Here, the traditional time period for service has always been 10 years. A citizen does have an obligation to serve the greater good of the community, of course, and after a full moon cycle, your Master has indeed become a citizen, whether he asked to or not. After the time of service, your Master will be free to do as he wishes. It is an honor to be seen as having such value and skill that one in chosen young man. You and your Master and Council should be flattered! Law is law, and the old laws are now re-established. He has been here an entire moon cycle… he possesses valuable skills and rare knowledge - thus we have chosen him. With his ability to manipulate others into peaceful agreement, he will help the entire planet return to a time of prosperity." He said sternly, gesturing at the youth to go back up the ramp, and the one scowled.
"My Master will never cooperate with this! You deliberately delayed the negotiations to keep him here all those days - and you engineered it so he would be slowed in his reactions to your methods! This is nothing outside of kidnapping an ambassador of the Jedi Council!" he accused hotly, and the one arched an eyebrow at him.
"I could have you imprisoned, tortured, - even killed for such an insulting accusation young man! Or have your master undergo said in your place! Leave now - and know this well… if you EVER return here - I WILL enforce that sentence upon you!" the eldest said, now firing a shot so close that Obi-Wan jumped back in surprise. Abruptly the landing ramp began to rise quickly, tipping him head over heels, to tumble down it and land sprawling on the inside floor of the ship, even as already he heard the hum of the engines come to life beneath him.
Instantly Obi-Wan leapt to his feet and raced for the cockpit, which he found securely locked. Then he quickly made his way to the view port window. He guessed the unusual stun gun must have been set on high for the older to have been rendered unconscious instantly. From the window he could see as two of the others now reached down, each taking an arm of the Jedi and hauling him to his knees, then having to support his weight entirely as he hung limply between them. Now the youth could see the blood that trickled down one side of the elder's face from a gash he had apparently sustained, when he'd hit perhaps a tree root or a rock imbedded in the ground as he fell so heavily. Obi-Wan felt his anger and frustration beginning to choke him as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
Quickly he shoved that away from his mind - it would not help his Master now. He could not help but gulp at the wave of anxiety that flooded his heart even as tears blurred his vision while the ship began to rise and move away.
//Master, I will be back for you! I swear I will be back!// he whispered chokingly to himself, even as the landing area became no more than a patch of lighter green in the canopy of darker green foliage and building rooftops.
So distracted was the apprentice that at first he did not hear or notice the low hissing sound that began. Then his eyes began to water and sting and he swayed unsteadily. He whirled, now hearing the noise and looked up to see a faint, vague mist coming from the floor! Gas. Instantly he started to fumble with his belt, trying to get his breather out…. But already his suddenly numbed fingers failed to obey him. He struggled with vision that started to grow faint, finally pulling the device out… only to drop it on the floor. Quickly he bent to retrieve it…. And toppled over as the chemical overwhelmed his senses. From the floor, Obi-Wan could see the breather. It lay no more than inches from his fingers… fingers that would not obey his desperate commands. Slowly, his vision greyed, then faded as consciousness was obliterated completely.
Chapter 2:
Slowly, ever so slowly, Obi-Wan became aware of a throbbing…. A dull, rhythmic - throbbing. Gradually he realized it was his own heartbeat, pounding in his head. Something hard lay under his cheek… and he was cold.
//Master? Where am I? What happened? // his drugged mind struggled to send…. But there was no comforting answer.
Slowly, with great effort he managed to roll over onto his side, the movement increasing the pounding to a horrific level at first.
//Master – help -// he sent mentally, even as he breathed it in a soft whisper… but still there was no answer, no comforting hand. With a jolt of alarm Obi-Wan realized he did not feel his mentor’s presence… not in his mind, not at all!
He forced his eyes open, to see a whirl of green and brown blur before him. With a groan he managed to roll onto his back, and fought the sudden bout of nausea that hit him. Deep breaths, take deep, slow breaths he told himself, and concentrated on doing so.
As his mind slowly lifted from the drug-induced fog, he became aware of the sounds of birds chirping…. Water running nearby… - then suddenly – he remembered! His Master crumpling to the ground…. The ship lifting off…. The gas!
Abruptly, he forced himself to sit up, his heart in his throat and his mind crying out loudly. He did not even have time to fully realize his surroundings before instantly the nausea became retching and he barely managed to get to his hands and knees so as to avoid soiling himself as his stomach emptied itself over and over and over.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he was able to sit back on his heels, now weak and shaky. His stomach felt sore and empty and his mouth tasted foul, but his mind was rapidly clearing. He was sitting in the middle of some sort of forest he realized. One characterized by tall conifer trees – the ground covered with dry needles and old leaves and no underbrush – not at all like the forests around the negotiation center. Slowly he crawled to the nearest tree and used it to stand, swaying at first as now he spotted a small creek nearby.
Shakily, he made his way to the source of water, collapsed to his knees and used his hands to cup water from it to rinse his mouth, then to wash his face. Finally he sat back, feeling fully clear and alert now. Where was he? Had he been abandoned here? Was it hoped that some wild beast would devour him and thus prevent the Jedi Council from learning what the negotiation team had done to his Master? Surely the Council would soon wonder what had become of them, he thought, then scowled.
No, his master had just spoken with Master Yoda not more than 2 nights ago, informing the ancient Jedi of the situation, and of the problems and his hopes to still overcome the difficulties of the negotiation. Yoda had sympathized, but encouraged the Jedi Master to continue the efforts.
“Call me in 2 weeks you will Qui-Gon – unless a more urgent problem you find. Leaving in 3 days to attend an important celebration on Alderaan the Council is – but only for 10 days will we be gone. Leave a message you will if a problem develops and it will be forwarded to me. Review the situation there in depth the Council will do when we return. Settlement we can hope there will be by then!” Yoda had told his former Padawan.
Obi-Wan sighed to himself…so, no one would even know they were missing for nearly two weeks… and who knew what would happen in all that time? Surely his Master would refuse to cooperate with the negotiation team – and THEN what would happen to him? The culture of that planet had a long history of some rather brutal methods of punishment….
Obi-Wan took several slow, deep breaths. Without his Master, alone here, only the supplies in his utility belt… it would do no good now to stew and worry. He must focus on the moment, as his Master would surely advise him if he could. He must find a way out of these woods and to someplace where he could send an urgent message to the temple. Slowly the teenager focused his thoughts and released his anxiety into the Force. Gradually he drifted into a healing trance to clear the last of the gas effects from his system…. Then to try to sense where he was and what immediate threats might lie around him.
The sun was close to setting as the youth finally ended his period of meditation. While what he had been able to sense in the Force was not exactly reassuring – it could indeed be much worse. He had sensed civilization not all that far away. And there did not seem to be any unusually dangerous or aggressive creatures nearby…. Just miles and miles and miles of rugged terrain. He rose to consider the level of the sun in the sky. Luckily he had sensed edible berries on the bushes just down the hill, growing along the creek. He began to follow the creek down the hill until he found them, and had eaten his fill…then began looking around for a means of making a fire and shelter for the night…
Carefully the tall, 40ish looking woman carried the basin of cool water to the stool that stood beside the large bed that situated in the corner of the room. It was a small cabin built roughly of logs and consisting of only this one room. She set the basin there on the stool, then carefully lit the oil lamp that sat on the rough-hewn nightstand beside it. As she turned up the flame, it illuminated the thin mattressed bed where lay the long, still figure with the ashen colored face and a thick bandage wrapped around his head. The man before her wore nothing beneath the sheet that covered him.
With a pang of concern she sat down gently on the bedside and could not resist smoothing down the man's long hair…. Not that it needed it - he had not moved on his own since she'd been brought here 3 days ago! Gently she felt at his jaw and cheek, frowning at the fever she still found there…. But at least it was not the rampaging fever he'd had of the nights before.
For 2 nights now she had sat at his bedside until very late, holding the limp hand, constantly touching the cold wet cloth to his brow, cheeks, throat, jaw, chest…. Anywhere she could, all the while practically willing her strength into each shallow, weak breath he'd taken. Now she felt at his wrist and at the upper side of his neck, and smiled with relief at the pulse she found there. Oh yes, he was definitely better than he'd been last night. His breathing was more even, though still a little too shallow.
Slowly she dipped the cloth into the cool water, than carefully wrung it out over the basin. Very gently she used it to wipe his faintly damp forehead, then over his eyes and down each cheek in turn and finally over his lightly bearded chin. She wet the cloth again and wrung it out less and now pressed a corner gently to his dry lips, squeezing the corner to let a few drops drip between his slack lips and onto his tongue. It surprised her when he swallowed by reflex, and she smiled.
"Good - you're thirsty!" she observed, patiently doing it again, this time giving him 12 drops to swallow, which he did. For half an hour longer she gently and patiently coaxed him into swallowing the tiny bits of liquid. She noticed his breathing had sped up as well, and increased in depth somewhat - but still she startled with a gasp and jerk when he slowly turned his head a little towards her as a low, weak moan escaped him.
"It's all right… don't try to move yet… you've been in an accident… shh now -" she soothed very gently, as she stroked his hair, and in a moment he seemed to relax back into utter limp silence and she sighed, relieved. Yes, she definitely hoped he would wake up… she NEEDED him to wake up…. But she just wasn't sure she was ready for what would come next.
3 days ago, she had been nearly drug from her own designated home on the other side of the village in the middle of the night by the village constable and the village overseer. They had barely allowed her time to dress before literally hauling her out into the cold night, through the deserted main thoroughfare and here – to this small cabin on the opposite end of the village. It was supposedly empty; she had last heard – had been for 3 months now – since the old man who had lived here had chosen to kill himself anyway.
The readjustment had been too hard for the old man – taken from his wife and numerous children to serve as a ‘Chosen Citizen’. She herself actually did not mind as much. She was a good healer – one of the best in decades in her own little homestead of a village - and to her point of view, a patient was a patient – and a soul to care for. She herself never had married – her patients had become the family she lacked otherwise.
In reward for her healing and ministrations to the valuable citizens here, she now enjoyed special small privileges. She was allowed to plant a small piece of ground behind her own cabin and grow her herbs and medicinal plants there. She was given extra allotments of meat and milk and eggs and firewood. She was not even required to wear the ‘restraining collar’ that most of the others still bore.
She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what she had seen the device do to others – to those who resisted – who were defiant and unwilling to serve for the greater good of all. It had only taken one mild application during the first day for her to decide that nothing she had left behind was worth the kind of pain the overseer so joyfully inflicted through the collar. And sadly, there had been several that not even her excellent ministrations had been able to save when the overseer got ‘carried away’ with his applications.
Gently she continued to sponge bathe the still man before her, finally coming back to his face, and again startled at now finding his eyes half open. The blueness there was still a little unsteady, as he had to struggle to focus, and even then could only do so for a few moments at a time. This time she was silent as she gently stroked the long hair. Perhaps it would put him back to sleep as before.
But instead, this time it seemed to help him focus.
"Wa- r…. peas?" he breathed very weakly in a dry rasp of a voice and she frowned mildly, thinking hard.
"Water?" she asked, guessing only and he nodded once, wincing and closing his eyes with a soft moan. The movement alone had nearly caused him to pass out again, she could feel.
She held a bent straw to his lips and watched with concern as he took only 3 mild, weak sips before letting go of it. He blinked at her heavily, as if just the act of sucking had exhausted him. Suddenly her concern rose anew. He was still just ashen in color, feverish, his lips dry and chapped, his breathing was still shallow and obviously he was only semi-conscious at best and it did not seem like he would be staying so for long.
They had told her that he had been chosen from a village far on the other side of the planet… and during the transfer, the shuttle craft had crashed and he had been lucky to even survive. She did not try to discern if that were the truth or not. She knew far better than to question such things. Still – beneath the torn and bloody tunic he had been clad in – he had been a mass of deep, enormous bruises from one inch of him to the other – not to mention the gash on his head and his blackened eyes… Unlike the others though – he had already had the collar around his neck when he arrived – and she knew it was usually not applied until one was ‘checked in’ officially on the computerized database in the constable’s office, given proper clothing and supplies and assigned to lodging. Yet – there had not even been a rumor of this new arrival the day before he was brought here!
She sighed deeply as with one finger she gently touched the lightweight metallic band around his neck. From this angle of his head she could see the semi-burned looking discoloration of the skin beneath it still – and she had had enough experience in the last few months to know that only fully activating the collars’ restraint system produced those kinds of marks. Although, it was rare to see them so severe and long lasting - and on one whom still drew breath at all. Quickly she pushed those thoughts from her mind. They had told her he had been injured during a shuttle accident – and that was that then!
Very, very gently and carefully she slid an arm behind his shoulders, cradled him against her and raised his head just enough so he could drink from the glass she now offered to him. His eagerness surprised her as suddenly he drank greedily, gulping from the cup, until she could feel him shaking and trembling from the effort and took it away.
Gently she started to lay him back; and frowned at the deep, guttural moan that forced it's way from him.
"Wait -" he gasped urgently, as if in severe pain, and she looked down to find his face screwed up in a tight grimace, eyes squeezed shut and forehead suddenly very damp and his breathing very labored. She stopped, even more concerned now as suddenly he seemed to half sigh, then shuddered deeply once, and became utterly limp again in her arms - losing consciousness once more.
Gently she laid him down; running a hand over his side where her empathic feeling told her this most recent bout of pain had come from. She had felt an injury to his ribs before - but now his pallor and pain drove her to utilize her natural abilities even more. No one here in this village quite realized the extent of her ability to ‘sense’ things of her patients – or of their afflictions - and it was not a talent she felt the overseer would appreciate if he did learn of it! Now though, this man before her seemed so helpless…
She closed her eyes, took a long, slow breath, and used her healer’s psychic sense to reach out and examine him in depth. … And immediately she found that his ribs were not just bruised, but 3 were actually broken. She winced now as in her mind’s eye - she saw angry and frustrated guards repeatedly kick the unconscious form who had lain in a heap in this very room before she had been sent for. With a soft sigh she concentrated on the broken bones beneath her hand, losing awareness of all else besides the soft rise and fall of her patient’s chest and his desperate need for healing.
Obi-Wan stared at his reflection in the calm waters of the pond that the creek had come to. His cheeks were smudged with dirt, with a scrape along his jaw and several more on his forehead and neck from when he had slipped on the leaves on a steep downhill slope and tumbled for some distance before his colliding with a tree had finally stopped him. His side was still stiff and bruised from the encounter. That had been as he was still coming down the first range of mountains. That had been 3 days ago.
He realized now that he could not be on the same planet that he had been on with his Master. For one, there was more than 12 hours of daylight here – there were 3 moons, not only 2 – and the stars in the sky were not the same positions at all. For as long as he had known his master, Qui-Gon had seemed fascinated with the arrangements of the stars in the sky as seen from various worlds. Often he would drag Obi-Wan out into the night to sit for hours and point out what stars were above them and how their arrangement differed as seen from one place to another. Lately, Obi-Wan wished he had taken those particular lessons a little more seriously than he had.
The days had been long for him, with only his thoughts for company. The terrain had been more than rugged in spots, as the gouges and tears in his hands bore testament to… and yet, civilization was still 2 more ranges away! And every night, in the still, quiet darkness, his fears for his Master’s welfare swelled up, leaving him tossing and turning with horrible nightmares of torture and pain that the Jedi had to face alone. As a result, the boy was exhausted. His diet of only berries and plants, the lack of sleep, the constant level of awareness and concentration he had kept about him – all took their toll on the youth.
Slowly the youth removed his robe and tunic, then his leggings and boots. A swim in the clear water was in order – if for no other reason than to wash his wounds and melt some of the dust and grime from his skin. Quickly he dove into the deep pond. Oh! It felt soooo good! Just the water itself soothed him.
Eventually, he climbed up onto a rock on which the sun shone through the trees. It was pretty here, he had to admit. He considered the pond before him, and his eyes widened. There, in the shallow part just below the rock lazily swam a very large fish! No, there were several of them! Hunting had never been something his master thought very highly of. But then, with his deep and constant connection to the Living side of the Force, Qui-Gon rarely ate meat. Obi-Wan however – did. And even Qui-Gon had eaten fish with him before when they’d managed to get themselves stuck out in the wilderness somewhere. Quickly the youth clambered up off the rock to search for something to use as a spear.
TBC…
