DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.  Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).

The flames raged, higher and higher, reaching out their destructive tendrils to engulf and destroy the laboratory. Bottles on the wall beneath the flames popped and shattered like explosives as their chemical contents were heated by the fire. The shelf gave way, sending what was left of its load crashing into the building inferno. The fire writhed and momentarily changed color as it was inundated by the dangerous mix it had just consumed.

Qui-Gon Jinn noticed with alarm that the flames were heading for the large oxygen drums on the far wall. When those went up this whole place was going to be cinders. "Come on, let's go! Move, move, move!" he urged the fleeing scientists. The room shook as something exploded down the hall.

A moment later, the Jedi Master was relieved to see his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, enter the room. The apprentice's clothes were singed and his face and hair darkened with soot and streaked with sweat, but he was otherwise unharmed. The young Jedi clutched two children in his arms and four more hung onto his robes, wide-eyed and scared to death. Obi-Wan did not stop to speak to his Master but hurried the children out of the building. Blaster bolts exploded around the fifteen-year-old Jedi's head. Instinctively, he ducked; jumping back and shoving the children out of harms way as well.

The soldiers who had set the building ablaze ringed the flaming structure, mercilessly shooting down those who fled. This door had been safe last time Obi-Wan had ushered people through it, but it was no longer and he would have to find another way to get these kids out of here. His mind could not comprehend the ruthlessness behind all this, torching the building, shooting people, shooting at children of all things! "It's okay kids," he tried to sooth as he dragged them back the way they had just come. "It'll be okay. Just stay with me."

"Master! Master Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan called, finding him once more. "The east door is no longer safe." Qui-Gon swore silently under his breath. "Neither is the west door," he said with forced calm.

Obi-Wan bit his lip. They were trapped. "Is everyone out of the building yet?" Qui-Gon asked, his gaze sweeping over the children that huddled around Obi-Wan like frightened koka's.

"Most everyone, except maybe a handful scattered about, and these children," Obi-Wan confirmed what Qui-Gon already knew. The air was stiflingly hot and choked with acrid smoke. The children coughed and Obi-Wan had to resist the urge to do the same.

Leila, one of the scientists who had stayed behind to help everyone else get out ran up to them. "This building is as empty as we're going to get it. The fire's progressing too fast, we have to get out of here now!" she reported breathlessly, pushing her thick bundle of short, black braids back over her shoulder.

"That will be a little difficult," Qui-Gon said, searching for a plan. "The Drojan army has us quite thoroughly surrounded." Leila hissed through her teeth, wiping perspiration off her brow with her sleeve. "Pigs!" she spat, referring to the Drojans. "This is exactly why we refused to create biological and chemical weapons for them, because they're animals!" she raged. "This was a research station, not a weapons lab, we tried to tell them that..." her eyes turned hard and hopeless. "I guess that isn't what they wanted to hear."

"You made the right choice," Qui-Gon assured.

"Yeah, I guess this is proof of that," Leila shook her head. "Come on, there's a maintenance entrance in the back of one of the labs, with any luck, they won't have discovered it yet." The two Jedi, children in tow, followed Leila down the smoke- filled corridors. The lab in question was already engulfed in flames. Each adult took two children in their arms and made a dash through the raging fire.

Smoke, laced with chemical fumes choked them and stung their eyes. Leila struggled with the door. "It's locked!" she cried in dismay.

Drawing his lightsaber, Qui-Gon quickly took care of that. Kicking the door open, they tumbled outside, into the pale light of the Driosian day. They found themselves in an outdoors storage area behind the building. A high fence with no door, twice as tall as Qui-Gon ran around the area.

"Do you think we can climb it Master?" Obi-Wan asked, looking uncertainly up at the imposing barrier.

"No," Qui-Gon shook his head. "It's electro-charged," he said, testing it with a gentle touch that left his finger numb. "Only one way then," the apprentice said, setting down the children he carried.

Qui-Gon nodded, releasing his burdens as well. "Leila, stand there by the wall with the children. We're going to lift you over and then pass the children to you. Whatever you do, you have got to be calm and trust us, all right?" Leila nodded. She was not sure what the Jedi had in mind, but she did trust them. Clutching two of the frightened four-year- olds to her breast, she waited.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both closed their eyes and their powers joined.

Leila felt herself rising off the ground, the children still in her arms. She resisted the urge to look down and tried to remain calm as Qui-Gon had told her to, but it was not easy. Slowly, she rose up, over the fence and was set down gently on the far side.

"Leila, are you all right?" she heard Qui-Gon's voice call to her from the other side of the barrier.

"I'm fine, and I'm on the other side. There's no one in sight for the moment," she reported quickly.

"We're sending the children over," Qui-Gon told her as he and Obi-Wan prepared to hoist two more of the youngsters into the air. Qui-Gon wondered if perhaps he should have his apprentice hold two of the children and send them over together, bringing the remaining two with him on the next trip, but he mentally checked their reserves and decided against it. Neither Master, nor Padawan had slept in over 72 hours. This last business of evacuating the burning research station had used up nearly the last of their energies. It took both of them concentrating together to safely levitate anyone at this point. They would send the children over, and then follow themselves.

In groups of two they sent the quiet, but terrified youngsters over the fence and deposited them safely with Leila on the other side.

"Okay, I've got them, now you two come. Hurry! I think I hear people coming!" Leila called urgently.

It was too late. Snipers from the nearby buildings opened up fire on the little group below them.

"Leila run! Take the children, get out of here!" Qui-Gon commanded urgently, igniting his blade to deflect the shots aimed at them. Obi-Wan did likewise.

Leila did not hesitate but took the children and cleared out of there as fast as she could. She knew the Jedi could take care of themselves.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan blocked the shots raining down on them, but it was a losing proposition. They were trapped behind the fence with nowhere to go but back into the burning building. They could not possibly levitate themselves out while they were being shot at, and the fence was much too high to jump. Well, they couldn't stay here, Qui-Gon realized grimly as the sniper-fire intensified. It was literally like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, yet they had no choice but to retreat back into the burning laboratory.

The flames were very thick now and the ceiling groaned an ominous warning that it was not going to stay up much longer. A hail of burning ruble collapsed directly in front of them, blocking the doorway back into the rest of the building. The flames were all around them, licking at their long robes and searing their lungs.

Obi-Wan whirled around when he heard a loud, shrieking pop. Heated beyond endurance, a test tube exploded like a missile had hit it. Just as he turned, another beaker blew up, shattering and projecting its contents all over the room, and Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan did not have time to duck and the burning chemicals caught him directly in the face and eyes. Shards of glass embedded themselves in his robes like shrapnel and tore his arms and hands as he flung them up in a delayed attempt to protect himself. The young Jedi felt the chemicals burn like liquid fire on his skin, making him cry out in shock and pain. Obi-Wan's hands flew to his face in a desperate attempt to wipe the stinging fluid away on the sleeve of his tunic. Qui-Gon jumped to his Padawan's side. Just then, a huge explosion shook the building, signaling it's last moments. Obi-Wan fell to his knees. Fire rained down around them like the world was coming to an end. The ceiling above gave way, crashing down.

Qui-Gon threw himself over his Padawan, pressing the boy to the floor as the world fell down around them. Obi-Wan dimly felt his Master's body over his, but he was really aware only of the burning pain in his face and eyes. Then, everything faded to black and he remembered no more.

When Obi-Wan woke up, the pain in his face was the first thing he noticed. Then the pain in his hands, then the rest of his body. At least that meant he wasn't dead, the apprentice tried hard to look on the bright side. But where was he? He was lying on his back on a hard, lumpy surface, but the room was pitch dark and he could see nothing. Somewhere, nearby, he felt Qui-Gon's familiar presence, and that made him feel better. If they were together, than things couldn't be that bad.

Qui-Gon moved to his Padawan's side as the increased level of pain he felt emanating from the boy told the Jedi Master that Obi-Wan was waking up.

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked groggily, deciding against trying to sit up just yet.

"I'm here Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's mellow voice was comforting. Obi-Wan could hear the gentle rustle of his Master's robes as Qui-Gon settled himself next to his apprentice. Obi-Wan blinked, trying to force his aching eyes to adjust to the darkness, but it didn't help, he still could not see Qui- Gon. "Where is here?" Obi-Wan wanted to know. "Where are we, Master?" Why was it so dark?

"A Drojan prison cell I'm afraid," Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan admired his Master's control. There was almost no emotion in the older Jedi's voice and he might as well have been telling Obi-Wan that they had been invited to a high tea... come to think of it, that was almost as bad... Obi-Wan's lips twitched slightly in spite of himself. Unfortunately, even that much movement in his facial muscles was acutely painful to the Padawan.

Obi-Wan put his hand to his face, gently touching the smarting burns that ran across his features. They didn't seem too bad, just painful, and half of that was probably a reaction because it was a chemical burn as well as a normal one. "What happened?"

"The research station collapsed," Qui-Gon said calmly. "We were trapped underneath, but miraculously, were not killed. The Drojan forces extinguished the fire to keep it from spreading to other buildings. When they went through the rubble, they pulled us out. You were unconscious by that time and I was... not in a condition to oppose them, so they brought us here," Qui-Gon explained wearily.

No, Obi-Wan realized with a shock, it wasn't just weariness he heard in his mentor's voice, it was pain. Qui-Gon was in pain and Obi-Wan hadn't even realized it. Obi-Wan kicked himself for being so unobservant and wrapped up in his own suffering. *"Not in a condition to oppose them..."* Qui-Gon must be hurt, but how, and how badly? Obi-Wan wished he could see his Master, blast this infernal darkness! Did the Drojans always keep their prisons this dark? Perhaps it was meant discourage escape, or to drive the inmates insane.

Obi-Wan sent out a probe through the Force, trying to get a reading that way. "Master, you're hurt!" he said in dismay when the probe came back to him. He couldn't tell specifics, but whatever the injuries were, they were substantial. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed slightly in surprise. Obi-Wan only just noticed this? He looked down at the double slings that bound his broken arms to his chest. That he was injured was readily apparent to anyone with eyes...

A cold chill ran up Qui-Gon's spine and his stomach tightened uncontrollably. Obi-Wan was not looking at him. He was not looking at anything. As he lay on the rough cot, the boy's blue eyes wondered aimlessly, but focused on nothing. Qui-Gon passed his hand over his apprentice's face, not three inches away. No reaction. Obi-Wan did not even seem to notice. Qui-Gon's gaze lighted on the red burns that traced across the boy's face, especially the large, blistered one that arced across Obi-Wan's cheekbones, the bridge of his nose... and straight across the Padawan's eyes. The tightness in Qui-Gon's stomach solidified into a hard lump.

Obi-Wan felt the sudden change in Qui-Gon's calm demeanor. "What is it Master? What's wrong?"

*"He doesn't know..."* Qui-Gon realized in anguish. "Obi-Wan, what do you see?" the Jedi Master asked carefully.

"See?" Obi-Wan was surprised by the question. "I can't see anything Master, it's too dark in here."

Qui-Gon bit his lip, unsure what to say.

"Master?" a note of alarm crept into the boy's voice. He could tell something was wrong.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice was low, too low, he was sad about something... "This cell is fully lighted. I can see you quite clearly," the Master's voice cracked just slightly.

For a moment Obi-Wan did not understand. Fully lighted? That was impossible! He couldn't see a thing... Suddenly what Qui- Gon was telling him hit the teenager like a blaster bolt in the gut. Obi-Wan's chest tightened so badly he couldn't breathe. He gasped for air and ended up hyperventilating. *It couldn't be true! It couldn't! Oh, please don't let it be true!* But it was true and he knew it, Qui-Gon wouldn't lie to him about something like this. That burning he felt in his eyes...

"Master, Master I can't see!" he cried in dismay and alarm. Sitting up despite the fireworks it set off in his head, he groped out, trying to find his Master by feel.

Qui-Gon managed to catch one of his apprentice's searching hands in the still slightly movable fingers of his right hand. The motion and strain hurt incredibly, but Qui-Gon barely noticed, his whole attention was on Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon moved closer, pulling the boy to him with the Force in lieu of the arms he did not have the use of at present.

Obi-Wan buried his face against Qui-Gon's shoulder. The fabric of the older Jedi's tunic smelled of smoke and bacta, the later no doubt applied to treat the burns and other injuries Qui-Gon had received when the ceiling fell in above them. Qui- Gon had covered Obi-Wan with his own body and the apprentice had come out virtually unharmed, except for his vision...

A single tear slipped from Obi-Wan's sightless sapphire eyes, yet he did not feel like crying, not really. He was too numb to cry, too shocked to even fully absorb the meaning of what he had lost.

Qui-Gon did not speak empty words of comfort to him, did not try to trivialize what the apprentice had lost, nor say that everything would be all right when it was not. The big Jedi just held him close, using the Force to replace his useless arms, and letting Obi-Wan know that he was not alone in this darkness.

Obi-Wan leaned against Qui-Gon for a long time. It was comforting to be near him, to feel his Master's presence so close, the touch of his mentor's mind and body, the familiar smell of Qui-Gon's robes that was still apparent underneath the scent of smoke and bacta... Obi-Wan had never realized how much all these little details played into the image he had of his Master. Now that he could not see, he seemed already much more aware of sounds, smells, feelings and even tastes.

What did this mean for the future? Obi-Wan wondered. Was this blindness permanent, or could it be fixed? And if it could not, did his loss of sight take with it his dreams of becoming a Knight? He knew at least one other blind Jedi, but Tahl was already a Knight when she was blinded. Could he continue training to become one if this condition was permanent? Could he ever hope to be allowed to face the trials, and even if so, did he stand any chance of passing them? He must not rely on his eyes, since Obi-Wan was little he had been taught this, but could he live without them? He didn't know.

"Walk to me," Qui-Gon instructed yet again.

Obi-Wan took an uncertain step forward, reaching out with his feelings to find where Qui-Gon was and moving towards him. The elder Jedi circled slowly and was pleased to see that Obi- Wan continually adjusted his course to keep heading towards his Master. Unfortunately Obi-Wan was so centered on tracking Qui-Gon that he neglected to fully probe out the path he was taking and ended up tripping over the chair that Qui-Gon had placed in his way.

Obi-Wan restrained himself from punching something in frustration. He should be able to do this! Hadn't he trained, blindfolded, for enough years at the Temple to know how to maneuver without sight?

*"Deceive you they can, trust your eyes, do not,"* he could still hear Yoda say to him. Why couldn't he do it now, when it mattered the most?

Qui-Gon shook his head. "You're trying too hard Padawan," he corrected gently. "You're trying so hard to see, that you tense up and miss things. Open your mind and let it happen naturally. Let the Force flow around you Obi-Wan, only then you will be able do it," Qui-Gon instructed, his presence was strong, but his voice held traces of weariness and sorrow.

"See through the Force," the Master urged. "Don't just see me, or other life forms, see the room, the objects in it. Especially the objects in your immediate path."

Obi-Wan righted himself to try again. Leave it to Qui-Gon to turn even a prison cell into a place to train. Then again, what else were they going to do here? Escape, in their combined conditions was a sadly ludicrous idea. The Jedi Council would send search parties for them if they did not report in again soon, but would they be able to find them? Obi-Wan made it on his second try, evading all obstacles and finding his way to his Master's side.

"Good," Qui-Gon approved, letting a smile creep into his voice since he knew Obi-Wan could no longer read his facial expressions. "You're learning fast."

Just then, the cell door slid open and both Jedi looked up, although it was merely a gesture of habit on Obi-Wan's part. Two soldiers entered the cell; six or seven more waited outside the door. "You will come with us," the men informed the two Jedi brusquely, gesturing towards the door with their blasters.

With little choice, the Jedi acquiesced. Obi-Wan caught Qui- Gon's elbow for guidance and they followed the soldiers out. Qui-Gon was a good and careful guide. With his friend Tahl he had learned how to lead and still allow the sightless person the freedom to navigate on their own and Obi-Wan had no trouble keeping up with him. Qui-Gon only hoped that unlike Tahl, Obi-Wan's eyesight would be fixable. "Where are you taking us?" the big Jedi asked calmly.

"To the Camps dolt," one soldier responded with a rude laugh. "Can't have all you people cluttering up our prison space and eating our food. Gotta work for your keep here. You work, or you die."

They stopped in a large room where many other prisoners were also waiting, ringed by soldiers and well guarded. The room was actually a platform of sorts and the tracks at the far end suggested that they were waiting for some form of transportation to arrive.

As they came to a halt, one of the soldiers noticed the way Obi-Wan was holding Qui-Gon's arm. The man jerked Obi-Wan away, giving a short, rough, laugh. "How many fingers am I holding up boy?" he jeered, not holding up any. Obi-Wan tried to pull away from him and got slapped across the face for it.

Qui-Gon tensed, stepping towards them, but two or three soldiers caught him by his injured arms and pushed him back against the wall. "Hey pops, where do you think you're going?" they asked, giving his tightly wrapped, but un-casted, broken arms an intentionally vicious twist. Qui-Gon gasped, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Huh boy? Come on, how many?" the soldier shook Obi-Wan back and forth mockingly. One of the other soldiers pulled a short whip off his belt with a cruel laugh. "Hey Tacin, see if he can see this coming," the man jeered, snapping the single- tongued lash and catching Obi-Wan in the chest with it. Obi-Wan clenched his teeth, struggling to remain calm. Anger would only cloud his thoughts, he had to be in control... the next time the soldier took a swipe at him, he was ready and dodged out of the way. He dodged twice more as the soldier attempted in vain to land another blow on him. Obi-Wan felt a quiet sense of satisfaction, he may be blind, but he still had the Force.

The soldiers laughed, grouping around Obi-Wan, but their laughter was more measured now. "Ooh, he's good," they half admired, half taunted. "Look at the blind boy go." "Hey Elu, whatsa matter? Can't even nail a blind kid?" the taunting turned on the soldier now as well, which made the man they called Elu mad.

Qui-Gon watched helplessly as some of the other soldiers joined in the sport, pulling the whips off their belts as well and circling around Obi-Wan like over-grown bullies on a playground.

Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, trying to dodge the hissing blows, which came from all around him now. He did a good job of it too, evading nearly all of them. This made some of the soldiers respect him a little, but others it made angry.

Obi-Wan jumped to avoid a swipe aimed at his legs, but he did not sense the boot that was thrust out suddenly where he was to land until it was too late. The soldier kicked the apprentice's legs out from under him roughly. Obi-Wan fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees.

Most of the soldiers backed off, content to have brought him down, but Elu, the one who started it, was still angry. Kicking Obi-Wan in the face and arms, he brought the boy all the way down to the ground and lashed out at him, catching him across the back and ribs with his lash.

Obi-Wan started to roll away, but several pairs of rough hands stopped him, grabbing him, holding him down. A thrill of panic swept through his body. Hands were holding him, grabbing at him, but he could not see who they went with. For a brief moment it reminded him of a time back at the Temple when he was eight. Bruck and several other boys had wrapped him up in a blanket and sat on him after he inadvertently got them in trouble for something. It felt like that now, held down in suffocating darkness and unable to fight back, only this time there was no one to make them stop. The sudden surge of fear disrupted his connection to the Force, making him feel even more helpless.

He bucked and struggled with them as Elu's whip caught him again and again, cutting through his tunic and drawing blood. The soldiers held him at first, but after a few moments they let go. Whether because there was some decency in them still somewhere, or because of a heap of mental effort on Qui-Gon's part Obi-Wan did not know.

"Okay Elu, that's enough, you made your point," one of them pulled the angry soldier away from the bleeding boy. Obi-Wan rose to his feet, and for a moment he just stood there. He wanted desperately to run to Qui-Gon's side, but he didn't know where that was. The beating had disorientated him and he realized with a chill that he had no idea where he was or how to navigate.

The soldiers let go of Qui-Gon and he quickly made his way to his apprentice's side, feeling his heart twist at the helplessness in Obi-Wan's sightless eyes.

Obi-Wan tried to be strong, tried to gain control of himself once more, banishing the fear and hopelessness that tugged at him. He took Qui-Gon's elbow again, but did not fling himself into his Master's arms as he would have liked to do.

Elu laughed with his friends as the soldiers moved away. "What's it matter anyway? Those two are useless. A blind boy and a cripple? They'll be sent to the ovens as soon as they step off the transport."

Qui-Gon realized Obi-Wan's hand on his elbow was shaking. "Are you all right?" the older Jedi inquired gently.

"Yes," Obi-Wan started to respond automatically, but then he stopped, hanging his head and shaking it. "No, Master."

Qui-Gon did not blame him. "You did well Padawan," he tried to comfort. "Your use of your training does you credit. Just remember, if you let the fear of being helpless take over you, you become helpless."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan understood. He also knew that understanding and doing were two completely different things.

"We'll find a way out of this Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said softly, giving his Padawan a mental squeeze. "I promise we will."

The transport lumbered to a halt. Finally. The trip had been a long one. Crammed into transports much too small to accommodate such numbers, the long journey had been an introduction to hell for the prisoners being transported to the work camp.

The doors slid open with a bang and the prisoners were forced out. Qui-Gon saw that the soldiers were forming two lines. One held all the mostly healthy looking people and the other seemed to be for the ill, the weak, the disabled and children under twelve. The Jedi Master was under no illusions about the fate that awaited those considered unfit to work.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered softly. Shaking his arms slowly he made his long sleeves fall down to hide the pressure-wrap around the broken limbs, ignoring the pain that the motion caused him. "Obi-Wan, you must not let anyone suspect that you cannot see. Your life depends on it," he said bluntly. "If they classify us as handicapped, they will kill us both out of hand."

Obi-Wan nodded grimly and let go of Qui-Gon's elbow. It was not easy to stick by his Master's side in the teeming crowd, using only the Force to know where Qui-Gon was, but Obi-Wan managed.

Their illusion worked and the guards placed them in the good line with only a cursory glance. From there, the prisoners were herded deeper into the camp.

Obi-Wan struggled to keep his attention on staying by his Master and not running into anyone else, but the misery and fear that emanated from the people around them and the other occupants of the camp made his senses recoil. He stumbled on some uneven ground, but felt Qui-Gon steady him through the Force. *"Sorry Master,"* he apologized.

Darkness was already beginning to fall, so the hapless prisoners were shown to rows of dark, musty barracks filled with tiers of beds reaching four or five beds high. Of course, calling the slated wooden platforms beds was a bit of a stretch, but that was obviously their function. The prisoners were crammed five to a bed and Obi-Wan, on the edge, was very afraid that he was going to fall, or be pushed out. Since they were on the top of a tier, that was not a pleasant notion. Qui-Gon silently switched places with his padawan, putting Obi-Wan towards the inside and taking the more treacherous outside position himself. He figured it would be a little harder for a big man like him to be pushed out, than it would for a more slightly built teenager like Obi-Wan.

"Sleep well scum!" the guards taunted from the doorways. "Tomorrow the work begins!"

"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice woke Obi-Wan gently. Obi-Wan sat up, momentarily disorientated. "Be careful," Qui-Gon warned when it looked as if Obi-Wan were about to attempt getting out of the bed. "It's a long way down."

Then Obi-Wan remembered where they were and allowed Qui-Gon to help guide him through the climb down to ground level. Once at the bottom Obi-Wan took a moment to wonder how his Master managed the climb without using his arms and decided he must be using the Force instead. Obi-Wan knew that that was what he should be doing, not relying on Qui-Gon for everything. Roll call came first and then the prisoners were served a thin, nasty gruel that was supposed to pass for breakfast before they were herded off to various work sites and stations.

Through a little bit of manipulation Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan managed to end up together. The job they were assigned was in a parts production factory and required them to manipulate a series of gears, levers and plugs according to the readouts flashing across the data screen.

Obi-Wan stood in front of the panel and bit his lip. How could he do this without being able to see the readout or the things he was supposed to move? How was Qui-Gon supposed to do this when he could not move his arms to reach the gears, buttons, plugs and levers?

"We have always been one in spirit Padawan," Qui-Gon whispered softly in his ear. "Now we must be so in reality if we are to function."

For a moment, Obi-Wan did not understand, then he did. He opened his mind entirely to Qui-Gon and felt his Master do the same. Suddenly, Obi-Wan found that he could "see" through Qui- Gon's eyes, and Qui-Gon could move through Obi-Wan's body. It was strange at first, but Obi-Wan quickly got the hang of it. Qui-Gon channeled what he saw directly into Obi-Wan's mind, so it was as if he could see it. He guided the boy's hands to the switches and plugs they were supposed to manipulate. It was not easy for either of them, but it became easier the longer they worked together.

Obi-Wan realized just how much they had become a part of one another when, during work one day, he found himself swiping absently at something that seemed to be hanging in his vision. When he remembered that he could not really see anything out of his eyes he realized it was Qui-Gon who was having trouble. Qui-Gon shook his head, trying to swing his long hair out of his face with only partial success, unable to push the hair back because of his arms. Before he could contemplate using the Force to do it, Obi-Wan made his way quickly over. Tearing a small strip of cloth off the hem of the drab, grey prison suits they had been issued when the guards made them give up their Jedi clothing, Obi-Wan used it tie his Master's hair back in a tight ponytail, keeping it out of Qui-Gon's eyes. Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan fancied that he could see it. He also fancied that he felt Qui-Gon's hand ruffle through his short, Padawan hair. Neither was possible of course, but sometimes, something didn't have to be possible for it to be real.

Nights were both a relief, and a pain. Relief from the work and worry of the day, but a pain because all the fear and hopelessness made some of the other inmates downright antagonistic. There were times when Master and Apprentice decided it was simply not worth the struggle to try to occupy their place on the uncomfortable wooden beds and they spent the night sleeping in the walkway, leaning against the bed frames. On one such night Qui-Gon sat, staring into the dark space before him. As he stared, eyes open but seeing only darkness, he knew that that was how Obi-Wan spent every day and it made his heart ache. He feared that each day they were stuck here, the chances of being able to reverse whatever damage had been done to take his Padawan's vision away became more and more remote. Qui-Gon sighed. Worrying did no good. He wanted to sleep, but could not, his arms hurt too much, so he tried to settle into a healing trance instead, trying to keep his feelings to himself so as not to disturb Obi-Wan's rest.

Obi-Wan however, was not asleep. He too stared into darkness, but he knew that the blackness before his eyes would not vanish with the light of dawn. His light was lost and he carried his night around with him. Obi-Wan leaned his head back against the hard sideboards of the bed behind him. He must not allow himself to wallow in self-pity; he had to think of other things, of getting out of here, of his Master...

Qui-Gon felt cool hands on his painful arms. They were small, but strong. "Obi-Wan, you should be asleep," he whispered softly. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you." Obi-Wan shook his head. Qui-Gon could barely see him in the darkness, but he felt the gesture. "You didn't disturb me." Gently, as his Master had done so many times for him, Obi-Wan reached into Qui-Gon's body, easing the pain, encouraging healing.

*"Thank you Padawan."*

Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's mild surprise and pleasure at the strength of the power he felt emanating from his student's touch. Obi-Wan smiled. *"That's because I've had such a good teacher,"* he thought back.

Other nights, especially if the day had been a very trying one, Qui-Gon would hold Obi-Wan on his lap, ignoring the boy's feeble protests that he was too big, or too old for that kind of coddling and wrap him in a blanket so secure, that it drove away all the sorrow, pain and despair that assailed the Padawan. Obi-Wan gave up even pretending to resist and let himself enjoy his Masters unusual show of overt affection and protectiveness. He supposed it was a result of this place, the uncertainty and death all around them and the very real possibility that each day was going to be their last. That, coupled with their nearly total dependency on each other, seemed to have brought them even more firmly together and aided in letting the closeness that they had shared on a deep level come to the surface and be expressed. It was true the old saying that adversity either blew people apart, or bound them together like tyranium.

Qui-Gon, for his part decided that if they did die, he did not want Obi-Wan to die without knowing how much his Master loved him.

Day after day as they worked they found out just how deep their connection could really go. Just how much they could truly work as one. They formed a symbiant circle now, in the purest meaning of the word. Obi-Wan was his Master's arms, and Qui-Gon was his apprentice's eyes. As long as they were together, they could handle just about anything. But fate had other plans.

"You, boy, I have an errand for you," an officer with ribbons on his uniform pulled Obi-Wan out of roll call one morning not long after. At first Obi-Wan did not realize the man was talking to him, until a gloved hand grabbed his ear and gave it a painful tug, dragging him out of line. "I'm talking to you boy!" the man said impatiently. "Go to building four and tell the officer on duty to tell the Head-Warden that the new task force is being assembled as ordered and operations in the Task'tow are on schedule. Can you remember that boy?" he asked roughly.

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan nodded, keeping his eyes downcast so that the officer would not notice that he could not focus them. "Good, if you mess up I'll have your hide for it," the officer threatened.

"Sir?" Obi-Wan ventured hesitantly. "Where is building four?"

The man slapped Obi-Wan, thinking he was trying to be impertinent. "Right after building three idiot. Read the numbers on the sides of the buildings and don't give me any more lip or you'll regret it."

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan battled down the panic that tried to grip him. He couldn't read the numbers on the buildings; he could barely tell where the buildings were. *"Master,"* he called desperately for help as he shuffled away in what he hoped was the right direction.

Qui-Gon watched helplessly as the officer sent Obi-Wan on an errand Qui-Gon knew was almost impossible for the sightless boy. *"Master,"* he heard Obi-Wan's pleading voice in his head. *"Be strong Obi-Wan, let the Force guide you,"* was all he could tell the apprehensive Padawan. As much as he wished otherwise, Qui-Gon knew he could not go with the boy this time. Qui-Gon gave his apprentice a push in the right direction, but other than that, he realized sadly, Obi-Wan was on his own.

Obi-Wan tried to hold on to what Qui-Gon had told him before, about the fear of being helpless making you helpless, but it was not easy. He moved slowly, stretching his feelings and abilities to their maximum limits in an attempt to navigate the unfamiliar place. It was not really very hard to avoid running into things or people, he could feel where they were, feel the people bustling around him, feel the buildings looming above him, but which building was the right building? He could feel where the structures were, but unfortunately, nothing he had ever learned prepared him to try to read numbers he could not see through the Force. Taking a guess, he counted four buildings down and hoped he was at least close. Approaching someone he hoped was a fellow prisoner, and not a guard he asked politely, "Excuse me, is this building four?"

The prisoner shook his head. "Nope, this is building eight. Building four is down that'away. Read the side numbers."

"Oh," Obi-Wan nodded, trying to sound as if he had not known. "Thank you." The apprentice tried to decide which way "that'away" was. Dang! He never realized how much one relied on gestures and body expressions.

"Not that way, the other way," the man he had spoken to laughed, halting Obi-Wan mid-step.

"Oh," Obi-Wan tried to laugh at the mistake. "Where's my brain? Thanks." He quickly headed the other direction. Eventually, he did find building four and delivered the message. Then, he wanted only to get back to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan leave with trepidation. He hoped the boy would be all right.

"Special work detail needed today," the duty officer was saying. He started calling out numbers and the corresponding prisoners were required to step forward and form a line.

"5807," Qui-Gon heard his number called. "5807," the duty officer repeated, his voice sharpening when Qui-Gon did not move. Qui-Gon slowly moved to join the new line, but his mind was racing. Where was this crew to be assigned? Were they still going to return to the same barracks at night? Separation was not something that either he or Obi-Wan could afford.

"Excuse me, where are we going?" Qui-Gon asked as they moved out. He doubted he would get an answer, but he still had to ask.

"None of your business," the duty officer snapped predictably. "You'll find out when we get there."

Qui-Gon's heart sank as they were loaded into yet another transport. If they were using transports, then wherever they were being taken was quite a distance away. *"Be strong Obi- Wan, cling to the Force and you can make it,"* Qui-Gon bid his Padawan silently, wherever he was. Then the transport doors clanged shut with a metallic bang and the transport lumbered off, carrying Qui-Gon further and further away from Obi-Wan.

By the time Obi-Wan got back, roll call was over and the area was deserted. He searched for Qui-Gon, but could feel him nowhere. For several moments he just stood there in the empty yard, not knowing what to do or where to go. He decided that Qui-Gon was probably already at their workstation in the parts plant. Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably; he knew he should hurry there at once, his Master could not manage the post without him, but how did he find the place? He had always followed Qui-Gon and the other workers, but now he was on his own.

*"Okay Kenobi, be calm and think hard,"* he told himself. *"You've made this trip a dozen of times if you've made it once, you can remember it."* Obi-Wan found the barracks door and started from there, imagining that they were lined up for roll call and then marched off...

Slowly and laboriously, Obi-Wan did manage to trace their usual route and end up at the factory. The guard outside was quite put-out at his being late, but Obi-Wan explained that he had been sent on another assignment by an officer and the guard only grumbled that he better make up the lost time.

"Where are you going boy?" another guard stopped him inside the plant.

"Workstation twelve sir," Obi-Wan replied.

The guard took him there to be sure that's where he really was heading and then returned to his post. Obi-Wan was glad to have had help finding the right place, but was surprised and dismayed when he realized that the other person at the station was not Qui-Gon. For a moment he just stood there, trying to figure out if he was in the right place, or if the guard had made a mistake.

"Don't just stand there kid, give me a hand," the disembodied voice of the other worker barked gruffly.

"I'm not sure I'm in the right place," Obi-Wan said, disorientated. "Is this workstation twelve?"

"Yup, none other," the man laughed roughly. "So get on it already. I can't run this all by myself."

"Where's the other man who usually runs this station?" Obi-Wan asked in shock, once more fighting away the clammy fingers of panic that tried to wrap themselves around his heart.

"How the hell should I know? I'm assigned to it today, that's all that matters to me. There was some big, special force that was assembled and moved out this morning; maybe he's part of that. Now move or I'm gonna call a guard!" the man said, impatient with Obi-Wan's questions.

Obi-Wan moved forward slowly, trying to see the layout of the station in his mind. He could find everything on the control board all right, but had no way to tell what was going across the readout screens. He tried to tap into the mind of the man beside him, but could not use him to see through as he had with Qui-Gon. The best he could do was mimic what the man was doing and hope that his readouts where the same as the other man's. Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He had worked both stations by himself under Qui-Gon's guidance and he knew just how thin that hope was. For a few minutes all worked fine, but that did not last long.

A grinding screech and an alarm claxon sounded from the console before him, reporting that all was not well.

"Geez, what'd you do kid?!" the other man shouted in alarm. Several guards and overseers appeared immediately and called a technician. The Technician was able to stop the claxons, but the damage would take about an hour to fix. The Tech identified the problem as having originated from Obi-Wan's control panel. He had apparently not only pulled the wrong thing at the wrong time, but had done an entirely wrong sequence at the worst time possible.

The overseers swore at Obi-Wan in Driosian. This delay would set production back hours and they would be reprimanded for the drop. "We know how to deal with saboteurs," they threatened angrily, thinking the damage done was intentional.

"It was an accident," Obi-Wan protested, but they were not about to believe him.

Under orders from the overseers, the guards dragged Obi-Wan outside. Thrusting his hands through the iron bars of the fence that surrounded the factory they clipped a set of binders around his wrists on the other side. Effectively trapping the boy against the fence, they ran charged electro- jabbers up and down his sides.

Obi-Wan clenched his eyes shut against the dizzying pain that tore through his body. His knees buckled and he sank down the fence until a crossbeam caught him, but he refused to make a sound.

Unfortunately, the guards were not about to stop until they knew they had made their point. Agony engulfed Obi-Wan until it was all he could feel. Eventually, they did make him cry out, his body could take no more.

The guards removed their cruel instruments at last and Obi-Wan struggled to catch his breath.

"Make sure he's not going to forget this anytime soon," one of the overseers said from behind them.

Obi-Wan stiffened. He did not know what they intended to do, but he was sure it would be painful. He was right.

One guard pulled the Padawan's loose prison shirt up, exposing his back and the other gave the boy ten measured, but searing strokes with a heavy coil of barbed wire.

As the cruel barbs bit his back and shoulders Obi-Wan jerked and cried out. His pain threshold was already surpassed, and the added torture was too much for him to handle. The guard actually went pretty easy on him, but Obi-Wan's back was left bleeding anyway.

"Put him on duty five," someone ordered and the guards removed Obi-Wan's binders.

Obi-Wan stumbled after the guards. He battled pain and dizziness, but more difficult was the war he fought against the depression and despair that sought to claim him. He tried to cling to Qui-Gon's promise that they would get out of here. His Master had never broken a promise to him before, but where was Qui-Gon? Besides, in reality, what did he expect Qui-Gon, or himself, or anyone to do to get them out of this? Perhaps there was no way out, no way except death... No, he wouldn't let himself think that way, it was un-Jedi. He could not let himself give up hope. Yet he had never felt so helpless. Where was Qui-Gon? His mind kept returning to that question like a Hopi to water.

*"Be strong Obi-Wan, cling to the Force and you can make it."* Obi-Wan heard his mentor's voice, but it was more of an echo than a direct communication. It was as if Qui-Gon had left the message for him and he had just stumbled across it. In that instant, Obi-Wan knew he truly was alone. They had taken Qui- Gon away and if he wanted to live long enough to even hope of ever seeing him again, the apprentice was going to have to manage on his own.

*"You can make it,"* Qui-Gon's words echoed in his head. His Master had faith in him. Obi-Wan just had to believe in himself. He squared his hurting shoulders. Whether he lived or died, he would do it in a way that would be deserving of Qui- Gon's faith in him. *That was one promise that he knew no one could stop him from keeping.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. His arms were screaming at him in pain for the merciless way he was treating them. Stoically ignoring them, he forced the injured limbs to move, miming the motion of lifting his side of a large, twisted sheet of plexi- steel. The man carrying the other side of the piece had no idea that his companion suffered from two broken arms. Had no idea that Qui-Gon lifted, not with his arms, but with his mind, through the Force.

Qui-Gon mimed with his body the actions it was not capable to carry out, and did the rest through the Force. It was the only way he could function, but it was wearing him steadily down. In reality, his arms could bear no weight. Just the movement made them hurt so bad that it could almost disrupt even the Jedi Master's concentration, but he did not let it. He dare not let it. Or he would be killed, and he would not abandon Obi-Wan like that. No matter what he had to do, he was going to get back to his apprentice. They were going to get out of this. Somehow...

*"Your focus determines your reality,"* he told himself, closing off the pain, pushing past it. He knew that to heal he needed to accept the pain and welcome it as the indication that it was, but that was a luxury he could not allow himself right now. The pain was too overwhelming. To accept it would immobilize him, and he could not afford that. For now, he just had to keep shutting it out. Qui-Gon winced as they put the twisted piece of the wreck down and it scraped slightly against his wrists, pulling against his broken bones. Even shutting it out was not entirely possible.

Qui-Gon realized that as much as Obi-Wan had needed him, he had needed Obi-Wan. This could not go on. As much as he would like to believe otherwise, a part of him knew that he could not keep this charade up on his own indefinitely.

The special detail had been assembled to clear away the twisted, burned-out wreck of an exploded supply transport that was blocking the tracks. The transport had been blown up while entering a station, and so the mangled hulk of the building hung over the hapless prisoners as they worked, making the task hazardous as well as grueling. Every now and then some part of the ruined station would fall, or collapse down, sending the prison laborers scattering in all directions until the guards forced them back with their blasters, whips and electro-jabbers.

Sweat from the exertion and the warm day beaded on Qui-Gon's brow and stung his eyes, but he couldn't wipe it away, he was already stretching the limits of how much movement he could coax from his injured body.

Verjl Owskar swiped a hand across his brow, pushing his tightly curling raven hair back under the carefully polished brim of his hat. The day was unmercifully hot, as if the sun was determined to scorch the land as a punishment for its bloodthirsty government's many sins.

All around Verjl, prison workers slaved away under the punishment of the intense heat and the merciless guards. They crawled over and through the remains of the transport wreck like so many ants, forced to attempt preposterously heavy loads that should have been left for the automated strength of mechanicals. Verjl kept his hands clasped tightly behind his back and his jaw firmly set so that his escorts had no indication of just what he thought of them, their wretched death camps and the whole blasted Drojan party.

"As you see Administrator Owskar, this explosion was a deliberate attempt to slow down our supply and munitions lines by treacherous insurgents, but you may assure his Excellency that the guilty parties have been apprehended and dealt with,"

Verjl's lips tightened a little. He could just imagine how they had been dealt with. Of course, they had been fools for attempting it in the first place.

"... and everything is being done to insure a speedy return to schedule," the camp Head-Warden informed Verjl confidently.

"If everything is being done, then why are the prisoners doing this work?" he asked calmly, stepping carefully through the piles of debris near the partially decimated wall of station. "Would it not be faster to employ droids to remove this rubble?"

"Perhaps so Sir, but as you know, his Excellency requires all new droids that are bought or manufactured be for fighting and there just aren't enough of the old ones to go around to risk them on a project like this. Besides," the Head-Warden shrugged. "Slaves are much more replaceable. What they lack in skill and strength, we make up for with numbers. We will have this clear with in the next three days. His Excellency has nothing to worry about."

Verjl nodded clippedly. As Second Administrator to his Supreme Excellency the Krallnorn, Leader of the entire Drojan party, he was used to people trying to curry favor with him. Little did they know how much their words and assurances had just the opposite effect on him. He wasn't really surprised. Verjl already knew that the Krallnorn put little value on life, except perhaps his own. Still, to hear the Head-Warden actually say that these people's lives were worth less than a collection of parts and bolts touched a cord in the Administrator's buried conscience. If only they knew what he really thought of them... Verjl dismissed the suicidal thought. It was the way things were, at least, for now.

"Hey, you," the Head-Warden snapped at a middle-aged man who momentarily blocked their path with the large gear strut he was dragging. The man looked up. Verjl took in the prisoner without much interest, glancing swiftly over his strong features and long brown hair, which was slowly working it's way out of the ponytail it was pulled back in and hung in loose strands about his face. However, when his gaze flittered over the man's eyes, they stopped. There was something in those intense blue eyes that he didn't know how to describe, but it was definitely not what he had expected. He knew from experience that prisoners in these camps usually wore one of two expressions, angry, or hopeless, but he saw neither in this man. Intriguing.

"Watch where you're going fool!" The Head-Warden shoved the inmate.

The tall prisoner stumbled sideways, but did not fall. One of the guards clouted him between the shoulder blades with the butt of their blaster-rifle in a strong command to keep moving. The man grimaced. Paling a shade, he stumbled forward, this time falling to his knees. The guard raised his weapon to club the prisoner again, but Verjl moved between them, raising his hand in cold disgust. "The heat is miserable out here, must we prolong this? It would have been quicker if you just let him pass by," he said in haughty disdain.

"Apologies, Administrator," the Head-Warden looked chagrined at having in anyway displeased his distinguished guest. "Get out of here scum!" he added, half under his breath, in Qui- Gon's direction.

The Jedi was gathering himself up to move on, when an alarmed look crossed his face his as his keen senses caught a sudden warning. "Move!" he shouted quickly.

An instant later, there was a horrendous screeching sound from above them and Verjl looked up just in time to see a huge section of the station wall tear loose from the steel girders that it had been dangling from and fall down, straight towards them.

The little knot of men seemed heedless of Qui-Gon's warning, frozen in horror.

Qui-Gon however, had no intention of being crushed. He leapt to his feet and jumped out of the way, throwing himself against the man nearest to him, and, almost without thinking, pushing him clear too.

Carried backward by the prisoner's lunge, Verjl found himself flying backward as the wall crashed down. Hitting the rubble with a breath-stealing jolt the two men rolled down the steeply sloped incline to their right. They ended in a heap at the bottom, bruised and cut from the sharp debris they had scraped across, but alive. That was more than could be said for the Head-Warden and the two guards.

As the dust cleared, Qui-Gon sat up slowly. This last bit of strain and jarring had been a little too much for his injured arms. His face was pale as a wraith and his jaw was clenched tightly, but he gave no other indication of the incredible pain that was making his vision swim.

Verjl wiped blood and dust out of his eyes and pulled himself to his knees. His heart was racing and he couldn't believe he was still alive. He looked at the prisoner that had saved his life. The fellow did not look too good, yet he was on his feet first anyway.

"Come on," Qui-Gon said, his voice a trifle thick despite his best efforts. He started to climb up the embankment they had just rolled down. "We've got to see if we can get your companions out." The Jedi Master doubted that they were still alive, although his own pain was taking too much of his attention for him to scan the rubble to be sure. At least they should try...

"They're dead," Verjl said dispassionately, getting up and dusting off the front of his formerly spotless uniform. It did him little good however, the dust clung to him and the sharp rubble had cut both he and his clothing, leaving the olive- green uniform torn and bloodstained. "And you should be glad they are."

"No," Qui-Gon shook his head, surprising Verjl for the second time that day. "Wasted life never makes one glad." "Is that why you saved me?" the Administrator asked as some of the guards hurriedly formed groups of slaves to start trying to dig the Head-Warden and his guards out, although Qui-Gon suspected that Verjl was right and they were dead. "Because it would have been a waste of life?"

Qui-Gon considered for a moment. "I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "In all honestly, Administrator I would have to admit that I did not think very much about it," Qui-Gon said truthfully, referring to Verjl by the title he had heard the Head-Warden use. "There was hardly time to philosophize." Qui- Gon leaned back a little, looking to the wall of debris for support as the swimming in his head turned into a veritable whirlpool of dancing sparks and ominous black spots. The pain did not relent. He realized he had really done something to himself this time, probably moved the broken ends of the bones out of their semi-alignment.

Verjl cocked an eyebrow. This man was certainly a calm character. He had just saved the life of the second most powerful man in the Drojan party, and he acted like he'd done nothing. The Administrator liked that. The fellow wasn't a boot-licker or a favor-seeker. Verjl despised both. "You're not well," Verjl said, knowing it was a rather un- brilliant observation. No one was well here, but that wasn't exactly what he meant.

Qui-Gon did not bother denying it, at this point, there was no way he could. It was all he could do to battle his blurring vision and the rushing in his ears that threatened to drown out the other man's words. Suddenly Qui-Gon sank to his knees, the last of his strength draining away from him.

"Your hurt," Verjl's brows creased. "Guard!" he called. "Guard!"

Consciousness was fading fast. Qui-Gon fought, but he knew it was a battle he could not win. The last thing he remembered was regret that he failed Obi-Wan. They would find out now, they would kill him... *"I'm sorry the only promise I ever broke to you would have to be the last..."* he thought, but had no power left to even attempt sending a message. His large frame slumped to the ground, senseless.

Obi-Wan stumbled for the hundredth time. He had stopped berating himself for missing the rough, uneven patches of earth a while ago. They were everywhere, too numerous for him to avoid. Not surprising really, considering that the inmates of the camp were busily engaged in digging the area up, himself included. The work was arduous and the duty-officers harsh. Duty five was a punishment detail.

Snap!

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, goaded on by the stinging touch of the guard's whip across his shoulders.

"Me'ell!" the guard shouted at him. "Me'ell!"

Obi-Wan didn't know exactly what that meant, but he didn't really care. It was probably something like "Faster," either that or "Stupid..."

Obi-Wan dumped his load of rocks and headed back. Sweat trickled down his body, unmercifully stinging the bloody welts he had accumulated across his back and shoulders, both from the beating the day before, and from the continued abuse of the guards. The thin, rough material of his torn, grey prison shirt clung to the lacerations, making them burn when he moved. The pain and his own swirling emotions made an already difficult situation worse, preventing him from affording full concentration to his surroundings. He stumbled again; painfully scraping his hands and knee, already raw from his many falls.

His lack of coordination and balance grated on him almost as much as the pain he was in. Had he lost so much when he lost his eyes?

A deep feeling of regret washed over Obi-Wan, but surprisingly, it was not his. His breath caught with a jolt as he realized that it was Qui-Gon's. He reached out, beyond himself, beyond his pain, searching for his Master, but could not find him.

That was not new, he had been unable to reach his Master since shortly after they were separated. At first, after he had gotten over his fear at being left alone and had calmed himself enough, Obi-Wan had been able to make contact with Qui-Gon. Their bond had been strengthened so much over the past few days that Obi-Wan had still been able to catch momentary glimpses of Qui-Gon's surroundings now and then.

When several guards took it upon themselves to beat Qui-Gon nearly senseless a few hours after his arrival at the wreck site, Obi-Wan not only saw, but felt it. The teenager had nearly gone berserk, getting himself a fair amount of abuse from the guards he was working under.

When Qui-Gon realized what was happening, he had cut their connection from his end, saving Obi-Wan from knowing what was happening with him, but also leaving them both truly alone. Obi-Wan had searched and floundered, but was unable to reestablish the connection while Qui-Gon was closed to him. He knew his Master had done it to protect him, but it still broke the Padawan's heart to be so totally cut off from his Mentor. At last Obi-Wan gave up and no longer let himself think about it.

But now... Obi-Wan felt apprehension grip the pit of his stomach. The regret had not been a communication per sé, but it had seemed aimed towards him, and it had felt frighteningly like good-bye.

Obi-Wan did not realize he had stopped dead in his tracks until a guard's vicious blow sent him sprawling once more.

"Stop daydreaming! Get back to work!" the guard screamed at him. "Me'ell!"

Qui-Gon stirred. His throat was dry as dust and his body burned with a raging fever brought on by the stress of his injuries. Someone put something to his lips, which his foggy brain somehow managed to recognize as a cup. Cool liquid assuage his driving thirst, but he had no recollection of if it had any flavor, only that it was cool and blessedly wet. He could see nothing, and for a confused moment found himself thinking that that wasn't right, it was Obi-Wan who... then he realized that he couldn't see because his eyes weren't open. For a moment he entertained the idea of leaving them that way, but a cool cloth placed on his forehead made his eyes open, almost automatically, to see who was there and where he was. He found himself on a bed, a real bed, in a small, but comfortable room.

A Nurse-droid hovered over him. The lines of the model showed that it was at least ten years old, but in excellent condition. The soft whir of the droid's internal motors created a comforting, steady hum that filled the silence of the small room. There was no one else around.

Qui-Gon tried to sit up but found that he could not. He was not restrained in anyway; his body simply refused to respond to his commands. He was confused. Something was missing... the pain. The pain from his arms was missing. He did not realize just how used to it he had become until now. But how? Why...? The Jedi may not have been in pain, but his head was still as cloudy as a night on Bespin.

"Relax," the droid hummed, it's voice set to a soothing pitch. "Movement will return in time. Your injuries were severe, I was required to give you quite a large dose of Anapathil."

Qui-Gon did not know what Anapathil was, but as long as it had helped as much as it felt like it had, he didn't care. Looking down he saw that his arms were firmly casted in thin, sturdy fiber-plex. The cast on his left arm spanned from his wrist to just below his shoulder, holding his elbow in a half-bent position. The one on his right arm encompassed only his forearm, leaving his elbow free to move. Probing the limbs more closely Qui-Gon realized that the broken bones had been set and cell-bonded to hasten healing.

"Wher-where," Qui-Gon tried to speak and found his lips curiously unresponsive. He supposed that that too was a side effect of whatever the droid had given him.

"You are a guest in the house of the gracious Administrator Verjl Owskar," the droid responded, even though he had not yet finished his question. "No more questions now," the droid continued, preempting any further inquiry on Qui-Gon's part. "You must rest."

Qui-Gon started to protest, but when the droid saw that her patient was not going to obey her, she clucked her mechanical tongue and pressed a hypodermic to the side of Qui-Gon's neck. Swirling blackness pulled Qui-Gon back under once more.

Obi-Wan clutched his knees to his chest and shivered, whether from actual chill or just loneliness, even he didn't really know. He sat on the barracks floor wrapped in the shadows of night. Even for sighted people it was dark now. Obi-Wan leaned against the rough panel of the bed-frame behind him. He supposed he could have gotten in the bed if he had tried. It wasn't so crowded now that Qui-Gon was gone... Obi-Wan hugged his knees a little tighter. He probably could have even managed the climb up on his own if he had to, but he didn't really care. He'd just as soon be here, where he and Qui-Gon had spent so many nights together...

The barracks creaked and groaned in the gusty winds and from outside he could hear the faint warning hum of the electric fencing that cut the camp off from the outside world. But that was not all the young Jedi could hear. Misery, fear, hatred and despair saturated the air of the camp like the clouds of smog that billowed from the tall, wicked looking smokestacks at the far end of the compound. Obi-Wan could feel it around him, cold and dark. He could hear the swirling emotions like voices, shrieking, screaming, pleading...

The Padawan pressed his hands to his ears in an ineffectual attempt to block the voices out. Unfortunately it was not those ears that he was hearing with.

*"Where are you Master?"* Obi-Wan pleaded with the silence around him. He felt utterly cut off and alone. Deserted. *"I don't care what's happening, please Master, I don't want to be alone here!"*

There was no answer. Obi-Wan wondered with a shiver if that was because Qui-Gon could not answer him. With their bond severed this way, Obi-Wan wondered if he would even be able to tell if Qui-Gon died. Was that what he had felt earlier? *"Please Master, if you're out there, answer me! Answer me!"* Nothing. Only darkness and the screaming shriek of the despair that enshrouded the camp like a cerecloth.

Obi-Wan slumped further down, wrapping his arms around his chest. There was nothing he could do, no way he could help these people or change this place. No way he could help Qui- Gon or himself. He was so weary. He didn't want to hear anymore, he wanted quiet. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and put up shields around his mind, just as impassible as the electric fences outside. Qui-Gon was out of reach, had made himself out of reach, Obi-Wan thought with a twinge of bitterness. Anyway, there was no one else he cared to leave his mind open to, so he drew up his barriers and withdrew inside himself. He could still reach out and feel through the Force, he could hardly function if he did not, but nothing could reach him unless he opened up to let it.

With the voices at last stilled, he leaned his aching head on his knees and drifted off into a troubled, dreamless sleep.

Qui-Gon lost track of how many times he phased in and out of reality, or how long his semi-delirium lasted. Finally, he awoke and found the cobwebs were gone from his brain.

When the Nurse droid checked on her patient, she found him sitting up and talking coherently. "Good," she approved. "You're on the mend." But she stopped him when he attempted to get out of bed. "I'm sorry, but I must insist that you remain immobile for the time being. Please comply with me willingly, I do not wish to have to sedate you."

The truth was, Qui-Gon may have been awake, but he felt far from strong, so he gave in to the droid's threat. For now. Settling back, he examined his surroundings. Apparently the Administrator was a powerful man, at least powerful enough to get him out of the camps, although how long that would last Qui-Gon did not know. Would he be sent back when he was well? He didn't intend to wait to find out, but there was nothing he could do about it right now, he was still too weak. Anyway, there was no way they could send him back in his current condition, it would be a pointless waste of their effort to heal him. He was going to have to bide his time as he regained his strength.

*"But what about Obi-Wan?"* his heart cried. What might be happening to his Padawan while he was stuck here? The Jedi Master closed his eyes, searching for Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan stood at attention with the other prisoners from his barracks. He felt the restlessness and heard the shuffling and swaying of the people around him during the longer than usual roll call. This at least, was not a problem for him. If there was one thing being a Jedi taught it was patience. Although that was hardly his favorite subject, Obi-Wan could call on it when he needed to. Being able to stand still for very long times without fidgeting or showing visible impatience was an essential skill considering how many long and boring negotiations Jedi were doomed to attend during their lives. At least here, Obi-Wan did not have to feign interest or keep track of what was being said. Besides, the less attention he drew to himself, the better he liked it.

This morning however, his calm, composed stance and civil attitude had the opposite effect. It actually attracted attention to him.

Obi-Wan could tell something was going on even before he felt the people moving towards him. Roll call was always long, but never this long. Everyone had been accounted for already, but the order to dismiss them to work had not yet been given.

The young Jedi kept his eyes downcast as he felt the people stop right in front of him. He guessed there were about five of them. A hand caught his arm and pulled him forward a little, out of the line. "What about this one, he seems a respectful, quiet sort," Obi-Wan heard a voice say. He wondered what exactly they were looking for. A hundred nasty explanations rushed into his head, but he forced them right back out again. Borrowing trouble did him no good.

The short Droisian man that had pulled Obi-Wan out of line examined the young man with brusque, but efficient thoroughness.

Obi-Wan forced himself to remain impassive as unseen hands poked, prodded and generally looked him over like an animal at market.

"He'll do," the short man said at last. "Not too much of a trouble-maker I hope?" he asked, glancing askance at the torn and stained back of Obi-Wan's prison tunic. "He doesn't really look like it."

"No, sir," the Duty Officer replied. "I'm sure whatever rebellious tendencies he has, you'll train out of him soon enough," the malicious grin was apparent in the Officer's voice and Obi-Wan repressed the urge to shudder. What was he getting into? He couldn't imagine anything worse than this place, but then, he didn't want to imagine too hard.

Obi-Wan found himself taken aside and lined up with a small group of other prisoners who had also been chosen for, for what? Obi-Wan did not know.

Heavy metal collars were placed around their necks, linking them together in a single-file line by the chains that connected the collars. The sharp snap of a whip started the line moving.

Obi-Wan shuffled his feet in an attempt to remain even with the paces of the prisoners in front and behind him and to avoid stumbling. Where were they going now? What waited for them there?

"Do you know where we're going?" he whispered to the person in front of him. There was no answer, so he guessed that the man had shaken his head no.

"No talking," the short man who now seemed to be in possession of them commanded sternly.

Obi-Wan started and drew his breath in sharply at the charge that zapped him from the collar around his neck. From the reaction of the others in the line, Obi-Wan realized that all the collars ran on the same frequency. If one of them misbehaved, all of them were punished. Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut after that.

After two frustrating hours of searching, Qui-Gon had nothing to show for his effort. He knew Obi-Wan was out there somewhere, but he could not reach the boy. Apparently, when he had terminated their connection Obi-Wan had also closed off on his end, creating an impasse that neither of them could get through unless they both happened to open up at the same time. But wherever he was, Obi-Wan had shut himself off from everything and Qui-Gon could not reach him. Qui-Gon did not want to even think about the kind of distress and pain that Obi-Wan must have been experiencing to make him shut himself up so well that not even his Master could find him.

Qui-Gon tried to find a little comfort in the fact that perhaps he could not find his apprentice because he was still too weak, and that as he grew stronger, he would be able to find Obi-Wan no matter how much shielding the Padawan had encased himself in. Deep down inside however, he was not sure.

Obi-Wan was strong.

Only once, back on Bandomeer had he truly clashed wills and powers with Obi-Wan. He had found an alternative to letting the boy blow himself up, but despite what he said to Obi-Wan, he was not at all sure he could have stopped him had Obi-Wan chosen to make the sacrifice. That was over two years ago, Obi-Wan was much more advanced than he had been then...

*"Don't hide so well that even I can't find you Padawan,"* Qui-Gon appealed to the silence that met his calls, but it did no good.

The door to his room swished open, taking the Jedi's mind off these troubling thoughts. He was mildly surprised to find that it was Administrator Owskar, and not the Nurse droid who stood in the doorway. The Administrator was slender and wiry, standing about a half a head shorter than the Jedi. He looked to be in his early thirties, although his dark eyes were the eyes of a man who has seen too much. Qui-Gon nodded his head in a gesture of respect. "Administrator," he greeted calmly. "I understand I have you to thank for my care. You have my gratitude." Qui-Gon's voice was courteous and respectful, but he addressed Verjl as an equal. Jedi always acted with diplomacy, but there was something in them that knew the truth that no position, no title put any one being above another. Verjl gave a curious smile. There it was again, that strange mix of contradictions that made this fellow so intriguing to him. "You're welcome," he said, entering the room and seating himself in a chair across from Qui-Gon's bed. The Administrator crossed his legs and leaned one arm on the chair's polished hand-rest. "I see you're recovery is going well," he observed. Aside from the medical attention, Verjl guessed that the regular meals weren't doing his unexpected guest any harm either.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Your droid is quite capable." He paused, considering the man in the chair across from him. "I will admit to being surprised at your visit Administrator. To what do I owe this honor?" Qui-Gon knew that a man as busy and as influential as Verjl Owskar surely had hundreds of better ways to spend his time than checking up on recovering inmates from his Party's prison camps. The Jedi wanted to know more about this man, there was something more about him then met the eye.

Verjl was actually thinking the same thing about Qui-Gon. "Insanity perhaps," the Administrator said casually. "Or perhaps I am a little bored today. I thought I would amuse myself by coming down here and finding answers to impossible questions."

Verjl spoke in riddles and Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Questions?"

"Yes," Verjl repeated. "Questions. Questions such as how a simple fall down the hill like we took could break your arms and do so much damage to them?" Verjl's dark brown eyes studied Qui-Gon intently. "The droid told me that she estimated they must have been broken for at least a week. I sent her to be recalibrated. That's not possible, is it?" Verjl continued to eye Qui-Gon and the Jedi Master wondered just how much he should admit. Finally he decided that full honesty was the best policy. It could do no harm now.

"Your droid's readings were not faulty," Qui-Gon set the record straight. "It has actually been two weeks and three days since I was originally injured."

Verjl's eyes narrowed in surprise. *Two weeks...!* "That's impossible," he shook his head. "Nobody could survive in the camps that long who could not work."

"Ah," Qui-Gon pointed out. "But I did work. You saw me yourself Administrator Owskar."

Verjl shook his head. It was true, but it didn't make sense. "Who are you? What are you that you could do these things?" "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I do not belong to your planet all, I am a Jedi representative from Coruscant."

It was a simple announcement, but Verjl's eyebrows nearly shot off his head. "Jedi," he hissed through his teeth. That explained a lot...

"I assume you're the Jedi responsible for rescuing the scientists from that research station," Verjl crossed his arms.

"One of them," Qui-Gon assented.

"You may be interested to know that official word says that you are dead. Killed in an unfortunate, accidental fire that destroyed the station and took many lives."

Qui-Gon was not really surprised. The Drojans were extremely good at hiding just what they were doing and what went on in their massive 'dispossessed persons' camps. The rest of the galaxy had no idea what went on here. That's why the Jedi had been sent, because one of the scientists at the partially Republic-owned research station sent out a coded message that made them wonder if all was not well.

Well, if Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ever got out of here, they would certainly have an earful to give the Council, the Senate, and anyone else who wanted to know just what was going on on Driosnia. Qui-Gon wondered if the story of his and Obi-Wan's supposed death had fooled the Jedi Council. He doubted it, but he also knew that there was very little the Council could do about it if the controlling Drojan party refused to allow them further investigation. Driosnia was, after all, still under a sovereignty agreement with the Republic and unless anyone could give a compelling and solid reason why the Republic should interfere with the planet's own system of internal government, the Senate was not about to violate the treaty.

"Really," was all Qui-Gon said.

Verjl shook his head. "I don't know what all being a Jedi means, but there's something about you... more than meets the eye. You're a puzzle to me Jinn, perhaps that's why I pulled you out of the camps." Verjl did not mention that he had also done it because Qui-Gon had saved his life. He did not want the Jedi feeling like he had some kind of hold over him, or as if Verjl owed him anything.

Qui-Gon smiled faintly. "I could say the same of you Administrator."

"Me?" Verjl stiffened a little. "What do you mean?"

Qui-Gon met his eyes squarely. "You act very cold and uncaring, yet you intervened when the guards started to beat me. You are a member, a very high member, of the Drojan party, yet I sense in you a conscience that does not believe in their ways-" Qui-Gon never got a chance to finish. Verjl cut him off with an abrupt wave of his hand.

"Enough Jinn," he said, a trifle sharply. "You must not speak that way again. You forget what I am and what you are."

"No, Administrator, I do not," Qui-Gon countered evenly.

Verjl clenched his jaw. Blast that Jedi! He had the most unnerving eyes. He'd heard that Jedi could look into men's souls. If that were true, then this man could be very dangerous to him, but on the other hand, if the other things he heard about Jedi were also true, perhaps it wouldn't be so dangerous, perhaps it would be useful...

"I understand your position," Qui-Gon continued to fix Verjl with those deep blue eyes. "You have nothing to fear from me."

"Don't put words in my mouth Jedi, or you'll be back in the camps so fast it'll make your head swim," Verjl threatened. The things Qui-Gon had started to say before shook him. Not only because they were so incredibly dangerous to him, but also because Qui-Gon had seen them so easily. Was he that apparent to everyone? His confidence was sorely shaken.

"As you say," Qui-Gon assented calmly.

Verjl rose to leave, but Qui-Gon stopped him. "Administrator?"

"Yes?" Verjl turned back.

"I realize that you may do as you wish with me, and I accept that. But I have one request, only one."

"And what would that be?" Verjl wondered what a man like Jinn would ask for.

"My apprentice was sent to the camps with me. He's only fifteen years old and I am very concerned for him." Verjl noted that for the first time during their conversation the seemingly unmovable Jinn betrayed something other than the calm exterior he had been presenting so far.

"You want me to get him out," Verjl crossed his arms again, leaning against the doorframe.

"It would not be difficult for someone in your position Administrator," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"Perhaps not," Verjl said coolly. "But what makes you think I'd do that?"

Qui-Gon just looked at him. Verjl shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't do that Jedi!" he shook his head. "Well, you might be in luck Jinn," he said at last. "It happens that I do have need of an able young boy to attend me and organize my things to prepare for a trip I shall be taking soon. Perhaps your friend could fill that job. What's his name and number?" Verjl gave in under the Jedi Master's strong gaze.

"His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, he is number 5808. I am sure you will be pleased with your choice," Qui-Gon replied.

"Yes, of course," Verjl nodded, slightly blankly and left the room. Once in the hall and away from Qui-Gon's influence, the Administrator wondered what in the galaxy had happened back there. He had fully intended to refuse the Jedi, if for no other reason than to try to prove Qui-Gon's assessment of him wrong, but instead he had found himself inexplicably agreeing.

Well, he might as well do it now. Besides, perhaps it would be good to have another leveraging piece. He still did not entirely trust Qui-Gon, but he didn't want to get rid of him just yet either. Verjl was not sure why, but he just had this feeling that something other than blind fate had crossed his path with the Jedi's. Still, it would be good to have something like this boy to hold, to insure that the Administrator stayed in control of the situation. Control, Verjl knew, was the only way to survive here. And he intended to survive.

Obi-Wan pushed the automated polishing machine back and forth across the huge, tiled floor. The situation had actually not turned out as bad as he had feared. Apparently he and the others had been taken from the Camps to be the house-slaves of some wealthy official. The work was often more involved, but overall less grueling than what he had been made to do in the Camps.

"You missed a spot," another slave who was busy cleaning the ceiling-to-floor windows of the huge hall pointed out, trying to be helpful. Obi-Wan placed the voice as female and tried to adjust to get whatever he had missed, but he could neither see it, nor where the other slave was pointing.

"No, over there," Sheena said, patiently pointing to the largish dull patch on the otherwise gleaming tile. When the young man continued to miss the spot, Sheena ran a hand through her through her short black and copper hair and sighed. Hanging her washrag on a rung of the ladder she perched on, she climbed down and pointed right at the spot. "Here."

Obi-Wan ran the machine in her general direction. He got most of it, but it was still streaky.

"Oh, give me that!" Sheena said, losing patience and snatching the polisher from him. He could have at least looked at where she was pointing... She fixed the spot and shoved the handle back into his hands. "You don't want to be sloppy about this," she warned him. "They'll beat you if you don't do it right. The Master's a fair man, but these overseers are devils with flesh," Sheena spoke her mind as Obi-Wan would find she was apt to do.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan thanked her for the help. "I'll get the hang of this," he promised, sensing her irritation with him. The last thing he needed was more enemies.

Sheena cocked her eyebrow and quirked a half-smile. She had meant to be upset with him, but she just couldn't stay that way. "Forget it," she dismissed, climbing back up the ladder. "New here, huh?" She decided the young man was probably at least seven years her junior, if not more.

"Yes."

"My name's Sheena, and yours?" Sheena prodded while she scrubbed. Obi-Wan found that here, the guards were not always around, and the slaves could talk-semi freely.

"Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Obi-Wan replied, concentrating on trying to not miss any more spots.

Sheena gave a short laugh. *"Definitely not the talkative type,"* she thought to herself.

"Well Obi-Wan Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said. "Welcome to limbo. It's not quite hell, but it sure isn't heaven," she said, mockingly both airy and grim at the same time.

"You have been here a long time?" Obi-Wan said. It was more of a guess than a question.

Sheena nodded, then paused and shook her head. "Not here exactly, I've only been here long enough to know that I hate it," her voice was tinged with bitterness. "But if you mean that I've been a slave for a long time, you're right. Four years. Nearly since the beginning of the occupation," she finished without emotion. "And you? Where did you come from?"

"The camps," Obi-Wan said softly.

Sheena actually stopped scrubbing. She shot the boy another look. Her copper eyes softened a little. She hadn't realized he was from the camps. "Sorry about what I said," she mumbled, realizing that her younger companion had experienced true hell.

"No need to apologize," Obi-Wan said with a shrug.

Sheena decided she liked the boy, even if he was a little on the quiet side. Of course, compared to her, most people could be considered quiet. "I've never been to the camps," she admitted. "But I've heard they're terrible."

Obi-Wan was not quite sure what Sheena expected him to say. "You heard correctly," was all ended up replying. "Who'd you lose?" Sheen probed curiously, moving to the next window. Everyone from the camps had lost someone, besides, she could tell from the way his voice got softer when he spoke that he had carried some deep pain away from the camps with him.

Obi-Wan pressed his lips into a tight line and considered not replying at all. What right did she have to ask so many questions? To pry so deep into such a painful subject? For several moments the whirring of the polisher was the only sound to fill the silence.

"Someone dear to me," Obi-Wan said at last, his voice clearly stating that that vein of conversation was closed.

"You're not the only one you know," Sheena said. "This whole mess took away my family, my friends... took away my world."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, and he meant it. He was sorry that she had lost so much. It was tragic. War was tragic, cruelty was tragic. However, he was not sorry about his response to her rather personal questions.

A guard entered the room then and so the conversation dried up, which suited Obi-Wan just fine.

"I see you're up and about already," Verjl observed a trifle latently when Qui-Gon met him at the door to the Jedi's room. "Sorry about the security measures, but I can't be too careful," Verjl said, referring to the lock on Qui-Gon's door.

Qui-Gon just nodded. Verjl couldn't know, but that lock would hardly stop him when he decided to leave.

"I've bad news for you I'm afraid," Verjl informed him. "The boy's gone. He's no longer at that camp."

Qui-Gon tensed. "Gone? Where? What happened?"

"I don't know," Verjl shrugged off the Jedi's concern. "They are not notorious for their record-keeping down there. All I could learn is that he is no longer in the camp."

"What does that mean?" Qui-Gon asked, not at all sure he wanted to know. *Obi-Wan...*

"It could mean anything," Verjl responded calmly. "He could have been transferred, he could have been sent out on a separate work detail like you were, he could have been released," Verjl doubted that one, "Or he could be dead." Verjl studied Qui-Gon's face for a moment. The Jedi remained composed, just like always, but in his eyes Verjl could see that this Obi-Wan had meant a lot to the big man in front of him.

"I probably have the connections to find out which of those is true, and perhaps, barring the chance that he is dead, which I must warn you is a good possibility," Verjl said pointedly, "Bring him here. But I need something of you in return." Too late to turn back now, Verjl plunged ahead with the plan he had been mulling over since he found out that Qui-Gon was a Jedi.

The administrator closed the door and pushed a hidden button on the collar of his shirt that would disrupt anyone trying to eavesdrop electronically. "I spent all last night reading every resource I could find about Jedi. What I read has led me to believe that your kind are trustworthy, are they? Are you?" Verjl was deadly earnest.

Qui-Gon nodded, equally as sincere. "They are, and I am."

Verjl sighed silently. "I hope so Jinn, because what I am about to tell you signs my death warrant if not. You were right about me yesterday. I first joined the Drojans because I believed in what I thought was their goal, the unity of all of Driosnia. When I realized what was really going on, it was too late. I love my planet but the Krallnorn is destroying it, killing our people, brainwashing our youth, it must be stopped. In one week I am going to be on a ship, supposedly flying to arrange a meeting with a chem & bio weapons dealer for the Krallnorn, he seems obsessed with obtaining weapons capable of even greater destruction," Verjl shook his head in disgust. "But the true purpose of my trip is to meet with a Republic representative. I must convince them that the Republic has to step in, or Driosnia will destroy itself, and its destruction will reach out to engulf other planets and systems nearby. Ruling Driosnia is not enough for the Krallnorn, even now he has his sights set on the surrounding system. This must be stopped now." Verjl knew the great risk he took in revealing this to anyone, but it was a chance he had to take. "Unfortunately, the Krallnorn trusts no one, especially not those like me, who are considered second only to him. I fear I may already have a traitor in my inner circle. I do not foresee disaster, but I will not do my planet any good if I am betrayed before I can get on that ship. I am going to make you one of my aides; you will accompany me everywhere. This will enable you to help me search for your missing friend, and it will enable me to draw on those keen observation skills you used on me yesterday. I ask nothing of you but that you stay with me and watch the people I interact with, search their souls like you did mine, and tell me if they are traitors or not."

Qui-Gon considered this proposition. It did not require very much of him, and he was desperate to find Obi-Wan... "I cannot promise that I will be able to see as much as you hope I can. It is not always so easy to tell what is in someone's heart right away, especially if they are good at concealing it. But if I sense any traces of deception or treachery I will certainly tell you," he agreed.

"That will be good enough," Verjl hesitated. "There is one more thing. The ship I am to take will be crawling with the Krallnorn's men; they will be watching me every moment. It is probable that I will not be able to simply sneak off for my rendezvous and sneak back unobserved. In all likeliness, it will have to be a complete break. I will not be returning to Driosnia. When I leave, I will take you and your boy with me. Your opinion will doubtless carry much weight with the Republic, perhaps even more than mine."

It sounded fine, but Qui-Gon could tell that Verjl was hesitant about something. "That would be greatly appreciated Administrator, but you are not happy about something?"

Verjl smiled wryly. "And you say you can't read what people are thinking?" he shook his head. "I will do my best, but there is no guarantee that we will be able to find your young friend before I must leave."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "I understand that Administrator. If we cannot, then I shall simply keep looking for him by myself." Verjl shook his head, his dark eyes sad. "No, I'm sorry, but that's just it. You must accompany me when I leave. I do not yet know if the Republic will listen to me. The instant the Krallnorn knows I have betrayed him, he will sully my record and do everything possible to discredit me to the Republic. I have seen him do it before and it worked. My word alone may not be enough, but they would have to think twice before challenging the word of a Jedi..." Verjl trailed off. Qui-Gon was already shaking his head.

"I would like nothing better than to do whatever I could to help this planet, but I will not abandon Obi-Wan, I am sorry," he refused.

"I'm sorry too Jinn, because unless you promise me that you will be on that ship, with, or without the boy, then the whole deal is off," Verjl said firmly. "Alone, you stand no chance of finding him. And even if you did, what could you do by yourself? I know you Jedi are special, but I don't know if even you could single handedly pull off a rescue from the camps. And if by some miracle you did, where would you go? There's no way off planet that the Drojan's don't control. I don't think that even you could go up against the entire Drojan army. Your best chance, if we don't find the young man before we have to leave, is to appeal to the Republic with me, then you can return with whatever they send to quell the situation..."

"Obi-Wan could be dead by then," Qui-Gon said, his voice tight because he knew that Verjl spoke the truth. His chances of rescuing Obi-Wan on his own were very slim at best, especially since Obi-Wan's blindness would hamper and slow them down even if he could find him.

"He could be dead now," Verjl pointed out, not meaning to be cruel. "In that case your staying behind would be a pointless sacrifice and possibly condemn thousands more to die the way he did if the Republic won't listen to me." Verjl could see the struggle in Qui-Gon's eyes. He would not wish this kind of choice on anyone, but life here was full of hard choices. He himself was giving up everything for this effort. "It is hard, but you must decide what is more important to you. One life, or thousands?"

Qui-Gon flinched inside. He knew what his response should be, he knew where his duty lay, but his heart cried out that he had a duty to Obi-Wan too.

"Besides, all this concern may be totally unnecessary," Verjl pointed out. "It is quite probable that he was simply transferred to another camp and I'll have him out tomorrow, but I must have your word. I am giving up everything for this Jinn, my position, my family, my goods, my planet and maybe even my life. Some goals require sacrifice. You must ask yourself if it is one you can justify or not. I won't try to tell you what to choose, just the consequences of those choices."

There was a long, silent pause. The silence was so loud it was deafening. "Well?" Verjl asked at last. "If we are going to do this, the sooner we start, the better chance we'll have of finding your friend."

Qui-Gon wrestled a moment longer before he finally nodded. "Very well Administrator. We will do it your way." He felt as if he were betraying his apprentice, yet really, this was his best chance to save him.

"Then I have your word? You'll be on that ship with me in a week, no matter what?" Verjl pressed.

Qui-Gon tried to shake off the apprehension that weighted his heart. They would just have to find Obi-Wan in time. They had to. He allowed himself to think of no other option. "You have my word," Qui-Gon promised.

Obi-Wan rubbed his weary, useless eyes.

"Hey," Sheena's voice alerted Obi-Wan to her presence. He realized he must be tired if he had not sensed her before he heard her.

Obi-Wan set down the heavy fuel drum he was toting, giving his aching muscles a rest, and turned to see what she wanted.

Sheena glanced around furtively to see that no one else was about. The silvery overtones of her creamy skin took on an even paler hue under the glare of the huge lights that lit up the storage yard. Most Driosnians looked fairly humanoid, which had enabled Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to be mistaken for native Driosnians. But Sheena was of the Inui minority, who were set apart by their silver-hued skin and bi-colored hair. For this reason, the Drojan party viewed them as sub-human.

Although Obi-Wan could not have seen them to know, a good deal of the Prison Camp's population had been Inui. Most of them there for no reason other than their race.

Other than the stacks of fuel drums, the electric fencing and Obi-Wan, the Storage yard was essentially deserted; the other workers had already been allowed to retire for the night. Only Obi-Wan was made to work late by himself, again. Sheena was still cautious however, she knew that a night-overseer could pop by at any time.

"Here," Sheena slid a warm thermos into Obi-Wan's hands. Obi- Wan didn't question, but drank deeply. The drink was warm and tasted nutty. Obi-Wan noticed that it also had stimulating qualities, which perked his lagging strength up a bit.

"Thanks," he whispered, sliding the empty mug back to her. He decided he had judged her too harshly the first time he met her. Sheena had a quick and thoughtless tongue, but she had a good heart too.

"There was some kaff left over in the kitchen," she explained in a quick, hushed whisper. "I saw that you were still out here, so I thought you might like some before I went to bed."

"You didn't have to do that, but thank you," Obi-Wan wiped his mouth on his sleeve and hoisted the drum again. The fuel had been dropped off earlier that day. It was to be stored for use in the cold season. There was enough here to keep the whole mansion and all its sub-buildings heated the entire winter. Obi-Wan knew it was probably going to take him all night to move the whole lot into the shed at the back of the storage area where the fuel was stored, but he also knew it had better be done by morning or the overseer would punish him again.

"No problem," Sheena shrugged her slim shoulders, trotting after Obi-Wan as he walked the by now familiar path to the fuel shed. "I figured we kinda got off on the wrong foot the other day and thought that maybe we could start over again." Sheena had not failed to note that the color of her skin had not made Obi-Wan treat her any different than anyone else. That was rare for a Driosian. Beneath Sheena's tough exterior, she was lonely. Especially since coming to this place. Even if Obi-Wan was a kid compared to her, young company was better than no company.

"Sounds good to me," Obi-Wan agreed, setting the drum down with the others and sparing time to give her a pleasant, if weary, smile before heading back out for another.

"So do you have to move all of them tonight?" Sheena asked, marveling at the size of the task.

Obi-Wan nodded grimly, hoisting another drum onto his shoulder. "Unfortunately."

"That's going to take all night!"

*"Tell me something I don't already know,"* Obi-Wan thought wearily. It wouldn't be the first night's sleep he had missed in the past week, for one reason or another.

"You really must have made them angry. You gotta be more careful," she shook her head, trotting after him again. "Don't take so many risks. When they give you a assignment they say they want done immediately, don't make them wait a half hour for you to get back," Sheena advised. The age difference between them made her feel big sisterly towards Obi-Wan, even though she hardly knew him. It was her way.

Obi-Wan wondered if Sheena was going to go to bed, or if she was just going to follow him around all night. He knew that she meant well, but she didn't understand him. She didn't know, no one did, and no one could. How was he supposed to explain to her, or the over-seers that he hadn't intentionally delayed running the errand? That he had gotten lost in the unfamiliar, unrecognizable tangle of hallways and rooms that made up the huge mansion. He was getting lost more and more regularly and he dreaded it each and every time he was sent to fetch and carry, run messages or find someone. The unfinished state of many of the areas did not help him much either. "I wasn't trying to get in trouble Sheena," he mumbled, stowing another barrel.

Sheen wished he'd look at her sometimes when he spoke, but she had found that the young man seemed to have a distinct aversion to meeting anyone's eyes. It kind of made her feel like he wished she weren't there. Maybe he did. "You never try Kenobi, but you sure manage to end up there a lot," she said lightly, giving her head a shake. She said it in good humor, but Obi-Wan didn't find it too funny.

"There," Sheena sighed. "I've put my foot in it again haven't I?" she said, realizing she had once more said too much. She knew it was her chief fault.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan sighed, picking up another barrel. He was so tired. Not just because of the lack of rest. He was tired of this blindness that crippled him and caused him to get into so much trouble, like the punishment duty he was on now. He was tired of this whole planet and the twisted leaders who could create such a situation. But most of all, he was tired of being all alone with no one who understood what was wrong with him. And... he was worried about Qui-Gon.

A scraping sound alerted him to the fact that Sheena had just picked up a drum as well. She struggled slightly for a moment to get it balanced, but managed okay. Years of work had made her strong. "Well," she offered, a smile creeping into her voice. "It should go twice as fast with two people."

"You'd do that?" Obi-Wan asked in surprise. Once again realizing he had misjudged her.

"Sure, why not? I think you're a good kid Kenobi. You've had a rough time, I'm sure. The camps are no picnic and I know that. Once you get used to the way things are here, and settle in, it'll get better," she reassured. "Now come on or we'll both be here all night."

"Thank you, that will be all," Verjl dismissed the two men in the smart green uniforms. They clicked their heels, gave a short bow and left.

"Administrator," a young man with short-cut blonde hair handed Verjl a sheet of flimsy. He wore the dark blue uniform of an aide. "This needs your signature sir," he said.

Verjl scribbled his initials at the bottom and the youth left, leaving Qui-Gon and Verjl alone in Verjl's office. Verjl finished jotting something down and then turned to Qui-Gon.

"What did you think Jinn, about those two Officers?" he asked. "I sensed greed, ambition, fear, but nothing unusual," Qui-Gon replied truthfully. Although he was afraid the Administrator had a higher opinion of just how much the Jedi could read out of a three-minute encounter than was justifiable.

Verjl smiled dryly. "No, not very unusual for this Party." That wasn't exactly what Qui-Gon had meant, but it was still true.

Qui-Gon's brow creased slightly in thought. "Who was that last young man, the one who brought the flimsies for you to sign?" he asked.

"Brun?" Verjl seemed a little surprised by the question. "He's my nephew and one of my top aides, why?"

"Perhaps nothing," Qui-Gon said slowly. He shifted his casts a little within the loose sleeves of the navy-blue aide's uniform Verjl had had made for him. His arms were on the mend, but they still ached dully from time to time. "It's just a feeling, but I would not trust him with more information than he need know. I sensed much ambition in him, enough to motivate him to whatever ends was necessary to achieve it."

Verjl seemed thoughtful, that certainly described Brun to a tee, he had simply never thought of that as dangerous before... "I will keep that in mind Jinn," he said, passing out of the room and into the hall beyond.

"Is there any word of Obi-Wan yet?" Qui-Gon asked as Verjl picked his way down the construction-littered hall.

"Not yet," Verjl said, stepping to avoid a pile of wallboard and lightly bumping his head on the overhang of a ladder. *"Blast this construction,"* Verjl thought, rubbing his head. Under a new assignment from the Krallnorn, he had just moved to this house. However, it was not fully finished being built and construction work still jammed up a good deal of the hallways that were as yet uncompleted. Verjl knew he would never see this place finished, but that was the least of his worries. At least all the activity provided a cover for the unauthorized comings and goings that needed to take place prior to his important trip. It also lent stability to the notion that he was just settling in and not about to go anywhere.

"I've widened the search to include a broader spectrum of areas and I'm contacting some friends of mine in other districts. We've got to be careful Jinn; we mustn't look as if we are actively searching for this boy. It would draw attention and we-" Verjl never got to finish, for a ruckus down the hall made them change course to investigate.

Brun, the two Officials they had just seen and several guards had a man by the arms and a struggle was ensuing.

"Administrator!" Brun snapped to attention when he saw his uncle approaching. "This man has no authorization to be here sir!"

"I know this man Administrator," one of the Officers interjected. "He is one of the resistance leaders. I am placing him under arrest, with your permission of course Administrator," the man deferred by formality.

"Of course Dheli," Verjl agreed easily. "Underground scum, doesn't deserve to live," he commented coldly. For a brief moment he locked eyes with the prisoner. *"I'm sorry Daikin,"* he thought.

*"Do it,"* his friend's eyes seemed to say in reply. Then Daikin spit at Verjl, screaming obscenities against him, the Krallnorn and the entire Drojan party.

Before anyone else could react to this, Verjl pulled the small blaster he wore on his hip and shot the prisoner through the throat. Daikin's body slummed to the ground, lifeless. It had happened so fast that even Qui-Gon was a bit shocked, especially since he alone had felt the flicker of friendly recognition between the two men.

"Administrator," Officer Dheli stammered, looking at the now lifeless body of his former prisoner.

"I'm sorry Dheli," Verjl shook his head icily. "He did the unspeakable, he cursed his Excellency the Krallnorn. I could not let him do that and live. How could I face his Excellency again knowing I had done so?" Verjl carefully reminded the others present that, unlike the rest of them, he had not only seen the Krallnorn, but was privy to his confidences and to a degree, his trust.

"Of course Administrator," the Officer nodded, unhappy at having lost his prisoner, but respectful nonetheless. Brun seemed a little less pleased, but he just nudged the body with his boot and shook his head. "Pity really, we could have gotten a lot out of him perhaps."

"Indeed," Verjl nodded. "Good work Brun for catching him. I shall see that security is to this area is bolstered." With that, Verjl left. Qui-Gon followed, watching the Administrator thoughtfully.

"You knew him," the Jedi observed quietly after a moment.

Verjl was silent and tight-lipped for a moment, then he gave the barest hint of a sigh. "Since we were boys," he admitted. There was no hiding things from the Jedi. "He was my friend." Qui-Gon processed this and then nodded slowly. "You killed him to keep him from being questioned."

Verjl gave a clipped nod. "Daikin would never have talked," the Administrator defended, almost gruffly. "But it would have been a slow and terrible death, and the end would have been the same. This has been our agreement since we started." Verjl glanced at Qui-Gon for a moment. He wondered if the Jedi thought him cold and cruel for acting the way he did and saying such things.

Qui-Gon however, was not so blind as to miss the deep pain that was tearing the Administrators heart.

"You see Jinn," Verjl said softly, "There is no room for sentimentality here. If I allow myself to falter because of one man, no matter how dear to me he is, then I condemn thousands of others. That is life on Driosnia. That is what I want to change."

They continued walking in silence and Qui-Gon pondered the sad, awful state of a world where the best thing you could do for your friend was to shoot them yourself to ensure a quick and painless death.

Sheena bent over the gleaming white floor on her hands and knees. Unlike many of the other floor ways, the auto-polisher could not be used on this surface; it would mar the soft soap- marble's delicate surface. "That would be such a shame," Sheena muttered, blowing a few strands of her bi-tone hair out of her face. She hated washing floors. Hated it. This room was an especial pain because it had to be stripped, washed and re- waxed every week. 200 yards of backbreaking work. At least she was almost done. Maybe she'd get that Kenobi kid to do it next week. She figured he owed her one after the way she had helped him out last night. It was an appealing notion, but she was not sure it was a good idea. Judging from what she'd seen so far, he didn't seem too particular about just how clean he got things, and she was the one who'd get in trouble if this floor weren't done properly.

With a final stroke she finished the floor and straightened up, rubbing her complaining back. She swore this room got bigger every week. Drying her long, silvery fingers on the hem of her tunic-like shirt she carefully placed the little caution signs on either side of the door, warning people that the floor had just been waxed and must not be walked upon for the next two hours. Gathering up the cleaning supplies she headed off to put them away.

Halfway to the storage closet, she realized she had forgotten the bottle of wax stripper and had to go back for it. Reaching the door she looked around for the bottle, but what she saw instead made her furious.

"Kenobi! Obi-Wan Kenobi how could you?!"

Obi-Wan froze and turned when he heard Sheena shouting at him. What had he done now?

Sheena glared at him. How could he stand there in the middle of her newly cleaned floor and dare to look so innocent! "Look at what you've done, just look!" she pointed angrily at the footprints that marred the laboriously waxed soap-marble. Now she was going to have to strip the whole dang thing, wash and wax it all over again! It would take hours! She would get behind in all her other duties and the over-seers would punish her! If Obi-Wan had been standing before her, she probably would have hit him.

"I'm going to have to do the whole thing all over again and the over-seers'll beat me for neglecting my other tasks! How could you?!" she demanded again with tears in her eyes. "After I stayed up nearly all night just to help you!"

"I-I, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan stammered, struggling to understand what he had done to upset her so. "What did I do?"

That was too much for Sheena. Stalking out across the already ruined floor she aimed a stinging slap for Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan sensed it coming and ducked, backing away quickly. "Sheena, please..."

Sheena's missed blow sent her off balance and she ended up falling on her backside amid the torn-up wax. Her anger burned out; Sheena started to cry instead. "I actually felt sorry for you Kenobi! I thought you just had a lot of bad luck and some sloppy habits. Now I know you're just trying to make trouble! I never want to speak to you again!" Sheena sobbed, choked with unreasonable rage.

Obi-Wan was truly at a loss, he had obviously ruined something that she had worked hard to do. He was sorry to see her so upset. "Please Sheena, don't cry," he crouched down beside her. "I'm sorry, really! I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, right!" Sheena wiped her eyes. Crying got her nowhere. "What are you? Blind? I suppose you couldn't read the signs by the door, you know, the KEEP OFF ones?" she accused.

Obi-Wan flinched. Steadying himself with a hand on the floor Obi-Wan felt the sticky, un-hardened wax squish between his fingers and began to realize just what exactly he had unwittingly done. "Sheena, I am sorry, I didn't know what I was doing. I'll help you fix it."

"Just stay away from me!" Sheena retorted, shoving him away. Now she was pouting.

"You can go ahead and hit me if it makes you feel any better," Obi-Wan offered softly.

Sheena was so worked up that she actually did. Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek. She had a strong arm. "Feel better?" he asked.

Sheena almost smiled, but tried to keep herself angry. "No." "Then let me help you make it right," Obi-Wan offered again. Sheena leaned back on her hands, dispassionately squishing the spoiled wax coat between her long fingers. "I don't understand you at all Kenobi. First you purposely ruin my floor, then you act so sweet about it. If this is some kind of ploy that your people use to attract attention..."

"It's nothing like that," Obi-Wan sighed. He was weary of living this ruse, a ruse that was beginning to become impossible to maintain. "Sheena," he searched for her hand and found it. His voice became strangely intent, but his eyes still did not meet hers. "I really appreciate the way you helped me last night and I would never intentionally try to hurt you. I honestly didn't realize what I was doing," he hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to take the chance of telling her the truth. If she turned him in, then she did. It was only a matter of time as it was before they found out, or until he did something dumb enough to get himself killed anyway. "I didn't see the signs by the door, because I can't see anything. That's why I kept missing spots on the floor, that's why I get lost and it takes me so long to run errands. I am blind Sheena," Obi-Wan admitted.

Sheena looked incredulous. Now he insulted her intelligence. "You don't have to lie to me Kenobi, especially if you can't do any better than that," she shook her head.

"It's not a lie Sheena," Obi-Wan said earnestly. "I was blinded by flying chemicals while caught in a lab fire shortly before I was sent to the Camps." His intensity and earnestness actually made Sheena want to believe him, but...

"That's not possible," she couldn't reconcile what he was telling her with what she had seen. "You don't act like a blind person," *except maybe for those eyes...* a little voice whispered in Sheena's mind. "And there's no way you could get around like you do if you can't see. Besides, you ducked plenty good when I tried to smack you just now," she said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Shh!" Obi-Wan pressed his finger to his lips in alarm at the way her voice echoed loudly through the large room. "Someone might hear you. If they know I'm handicapped they'll kill me."

The fear in Obi-Wan's face was very real. Sheena was confused. Reaching out slowly, she waved her hand in front of his staring eyes. They didn't move. She reached so close that she almost touched his eye, but he didn't blink until her fingertip brushed his eyelashes. Sheena pulled back. It seemed impossible, but it made sense.

Obi-Wan knew her hand was near his face, but he didn't react.

"Y-you are blind," Sheena whispered. "But how...?"

"I'm a Jedi Sheena," Obi-Wan explained. "I don't know if you know what they are, but I guess you could say that I have special senses and abilities that help me cope with my blindness so I can still function at least somewhat. But it isn't easy."

"Jedi," Sheena breathed. She had heard about them, but only in stories.

"Please Sheena, you're the only one here who knows that I'm blind." Obi-Wan squeezed her hand tightly. "You've got to promise me that you won't tell anyone else."

Sheena nodded, and then remembered that he couldn't see her. "I promise."

Verjl rummaged through his desk drawers, pulling out files, memos, communiqués and other assorted items. Some he put into a small black satchel, the others he tossed into the incinerator.

Qui-Gon entered the room and stood quietly behind his chair, waiting for the Administrator to notice him. Verjl heard his entrance but did not turn at once. He could feel Qui-Gon's eyes bore into the back of his head and was in no hurry to meet them face on. What could he do? He didn't like this any more than the Jedi did. "No, I have no word yet. However, Camp 11 in the Tellti district has yet to respond," he said, without looking up from his work. He did not because he knew he could not bear the look on Qui-Gon's face. He liked the Jedi, Qui-Gon had been most useful to him this past week, but that didn't change the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Verjl finished with his desk and rose. "Send up one of the servants to help me pack my things Jinn," he asked, with the ease of one used to giving commands as he moved over to the sleeping area of his quarters. Left unspoken was the knowledge that their ship left at dawn tomorrow morning. Without Obi- Wan.

Verjl palmed open a wall cabinet and lay a large traveling- case on his bed. He looked up and saw Qui-Gon still standing there. The Administrator's eyes softened.

"You will hear back from Camp 11 before tomorrow morning?" Qui-Gon asked slowly.

"Yes," Verjl sighed. "I had to pay a small fortune to get it through security on such short notice, but we will know before... before morning." Verjl snapped open the traveling- case.

"Tellti is remote," Qui-Gon pointed out. "And far from here. Is it possible that he could have been transferred so far?"

"What do you want me to say Jinn?" Verjl met Qui-Gon's eyes this time. "Tellti is our last chance. If he's not there, then he's either dead or no longer in the camps."

"Then we're out of time," Qui-Gon said softly, just above a whisper.

Verjl glanced away. The look on Qui-Gon's face told the Administrator that he might as well be asking the Jedi to rip his own heart out. Perhaps that would have actually been easier. Still, he was not asking Qui-Gon to do anything that he wouldn't do himself, that he hadn't already done. "I'm sorry it has had to come to this Jinn," Verjl apologized, truly saddened. "I honestly thought we would find him in time."

Qui-Gon just nodded, numbly. So had he.

Verjl felt strangely guilty. He had done his best to find the young Jedi, but could he have done more? One life out of so many that were being destroyed could seem of so little consequence, but the Administrator knew that to the man standing across the room from him that one life seemed to mean the world. Verjl thought of Daikin, thought of the people he had seen killed by inches, of all the innocent men, women and children he had seen suffer and die in the past four years. He realized he had seen far too many. One by one, the single lives added up. Added up to an atrocity. Yes, he wanted to stop the bigger picture, but he must not forget that the hundreds of thousands whom he wanted to save were made up of individuals. Sometimes perhaps, he realized, you could help to make a difference one person at a time.

"We'll come back for him," Verjl decided suddenly, catching Qui-Gon's eyes again. "I have... contacts in the underground. No matter what happens with the Republic, if I am at all able, I will come back with you and we will either find him, or at least what happened to him. I promise you that Jinn."

Qui-Gon knew what a brave and generous offer that was, and what a great risk Verjl would take on himself by returning to Driosnia after this, but it did little to lighten the load that settled upon his heart at having to leave his apprentice behind. Especially in the state Obi-Wan was in. "I made a promise too Administrator," Qui-Gon said, a trifle hoarsely. "I promised Obi-Wan that we would make it out of this, together. I also promised you that I would leave with you tomorrow," the big Jedi looked torn. "How I am supposed to reconcile those two promises?"

"I don't know Jinn," Verjl shook his head. "I don't know." There was a long silence before Verjl remembered that he had to get packed or they weren't going anywhere. "Please have someone sent up," he repeated his earlier request.

Qui-Gon nodded silently and left, letting the door swoosh shut behind him. His mind swirled in turmoil as he strode down the hall. He had never seriously considered leaving Obi-Wan behind, yet here he was, faced with it. A Jedi must always be true to his word, but either way he went he broke a promise. Should he listen to his heart and stay? Or listen to his head and go? He didn't know which way was right. Perhaps neither way was, but what other option was there? More than once, Obi- Wan had voiced the opinion that his Master always knew what to do. Right now, Qui-Gon only wished that were true.

Sheena hummed a soft tune to herself as she folded shirts, tunics and pants, putting them in even piles, sorted by combination. She certainly didn't mind this assignment. It sure beat cleaning toilets, which she would otherwise be doing. Her Master came out of the back room and she quickly fell silent.

"Don't stop Sheena," he said, his dark eyes regarding her kindly. "That's pretty." He placed another heap of clothing on the bed for her to sort.

Sheena blushed. He always called her by name, she like that. It made her feel a little more like a real person instead of the object, or creature that all the other Driosnians made her out to be. It was a wonder that someone in his position cared enough to remember her name, what with her being not only a slave, but an Inui as well. She didn't know his first name, but she secretly thought him one of the handsomest men she'd ever met, even if he was a Driosnian, and a party member at that.

She had been the Administrators slave for over four years, traveling from place to place as his business took him all over Driosnia. She was not fond of this latest place. It was so huge, much bigger than usual. That's why they had had to bring in the extra slaves from the camps to augment his usual retinue. They were really on quite friendly terms for being master and servant.

One of the things that Sheena especially hated about this new place was that she had not seen Verjl at all since arriving here three weeks ago. He had been so busy, and there was always so much work for her to do. Before this place she had rarely been abused or beaten while in her Master's service. The Administrator was a distant man, but he did not mistreat his slaves. The overseers that were over her now were cruel and punished the slaves harshly at the slightest provocation. Now it looked as if her Master were going away again. "Where are you going this time Master?" she asked quietly.

"On another mission for the Krallnorn Sheena," Verjl replied, sorting through the piles of clothing she was folding, deciding what to bring.

"Are we to be moved again Sir?" she asked hopefully.

"No," her Master shook his dark head. "I'm afraid not. I am going alone this time."

"Oh, how long will you be gone?" Sheena was always a little timid around him, but he never seemed to mind talking with her, at least, not if they were alone.

"I don't know," he shook his head. He smiled faintly at her. "You're not going to miss me, are you Sheena?"

"I've missed you since we got here Master," Sheena murmured softly, and instantly regretted it. She had never spoken to him that way before.

Verjl just smiled and went back to packing. He hadn't really noticed, but he realized he had missed her too. He had become accustomed to her constant, if somewhat shy, conversation and the music of her humming while she worked. He had taken her years ago to save her from being placed in a despicable camp brothel after the rest of her family was killed before her eyes. Although she had exhibited an understandable bitterness towards Driosnians, especially Dojans, she had eventually stopped directing that hate at him. Verjl couldn't understand how the Krallnorn could stir up such loathing towards her people. He had been no different at first, but, partly because of Sheena, he had found that the Inui were remarkably like everyone else.

Sheena busied herself so she would not keep glancing over to look at Verjl. She knew that logically, she should hate him. He had made her his slave; he worked for the people who killed her mother, father and brother. But he was also the only person for four years who had treated her like a sentient being and seemed undisturbed by the color of her skin. Even the other slaves snubbed her because of her race, except Obi- Wan of course...

Obi-Wan! He had been told to report for a construction duty assignment in the east wing right before she had been called away to help the Master. Since she had found out about his disability a few days ago, she had taken it upon herself to look out for him, often switching jobs with him when he was sent on errands so that he did not have to try to navigate.

For this, Obi-Wan was eternally grateful. But now she suddenly remembered something she had forgotten in her gladness at the idea of being sent for by the Master. The halls leading to the east wing had been closed due to the construction. A person had to exit the building and take the outside route to get to the area that Obi-Wan had been sent to. If you tried to follow the halls, you would end up getting re-routed into the restricted areas of the east wing where slaves were not allowed. Unfortunately, as she had just recalled, the way was not barred, only marked as restricted. Obi-Wan would not know! Her face paled. She had to warn him!

"Master," she said suddenly. "May I please be excused for a moment, only just for a moment? I'll be right back," she asked.

"What's wrong Sheena?" Verjl asked, noting the faint alarm in her eyes.

"Nothing, I just remembered something. Please Master, just a moment and I'll be back," she implored.

"All right Sheena, go ahead," he permitted and she hurried away.

Sheena ran down the halls, her feet fairly flying. She feared she might already be too late.

Obi-Wan moved forward uncertainly. He knew he hadn't left the hall he had been following, but he didn't feel as if he was going in the right direction. Suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder and stopped him.

"You, slave, what do you think you're doing? Where's your clearance?" a harsh voice demanded.

"Clearance?" Obi-Wan asked, his stomach knotting as he realized he must once again have ended up somewhere he shouldn't be.

"Clearance stupid!" the guard shook Obi-Wan so hard he made the young Jedi's teeth rattle. "This is a restricted area, slaves aren't allowed!"

"What have you got there soldier?" Brun Owskar asked, rounding the corner and seeing Obi-Wan with the two guards.

"A Slave with no clearance," the man reported, shoving Obi-Wan up against the wall.

"Please, I didn't realize I was in the wrong place, I was trying to get to the east wing," Obi-Wan tried to explain around the hand that rested heavily against his throat.

"Liar!" the soldier snapped, socking Obi-Wan in the stomach. Obi-Wan doubled over, but the guards pushed him back against the wall again.

"Another spy eh?" Brun said with great interest. "Are you a resistance member too boy?" Brun took Obi-Wan's chin in his hand, tilting it up. "What are you doing here? What are you after?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Obi-Wan shook his head helplessly, but he knew from experience that he would not be believed.

Brun's hard fist jerked Obi-Wan's head to the side. "Try again boy," he commanded roughly.

"It's the truth!" Obi-Wan clung to his innocence. "The construction confused me, I got lost."

Brun struck the teenager again, viciously. His knuckles cut Obi-Wan's lip, making blood trickle down the boy's chin. Another fist slammed into Obi-Wan's stomach, pulled back, punched him again, and again, leaving him gasping for breath.

"Sir," one of the guards holding Obi-Wan spoke up after a few moments. "Shouldn't we inform the Administrator about the spy?"

Brun wiped Obi-Wan's blood off his knuckles, and shook his head. "No need to disturb the Administrator until we have something to tell him," Brun said. He did not want to give the scenario of earlier that week a chance to repeat itself, not until he had gotten some answers out of the boy, and some of those answers involved his Uncle.

Brun grabbed Obi-Wan by the roots of his short hair. Tipping the boy's chin skyward again. "Listen to me spy," he growled menacingly, only three inches from Obi-Wan's face. "This can go easy, or it can go hard, real hard, do you understand me slave?"

Obi-Wan nodded, as much as Brun's grip on his hair let him. He understood all right, but that did him very little good. "Good," Brun let go of his hair with a shake. "Start talking. Who do you work for and what are you after?"

"I know you won't believe me, but I don't work for anyone but the owner of this house and I'm not after anything except to get to my work assignment in the east wing," Obi-Wan could do nothing but tell the truth.

"You're right boy," Brun grinned darkly. "I don't believe you." Brun's fist connected solidly with Obi-Wan's stomach once more. A blow to the jaw slammed the young Jedi's head back into the wall. For a brief moment Obi-Wan found it odd that he didn't see stars, but it was just a passing thought, before Brun's fists slammed into him again.

Obi-Wan struggled and pulled against the guards holding his arms, but it did no good. Brun was relentless, pounding the fifteen-year-old with iron fists. "Who do you work for? How long have you been here? How does the Administrator fit into this picture? What is the underground up to?" Brun's questions were as relentless as his abuse, but they seemed increasingly muffled by the fog that was starting to build around Obi-Wan as he sank down the wall under Brun's blows. When he hit the floor the guards started in on him too.

Sheena raced down the halls, calling Obi-Wan's name. She stopped when the white paint on the walls gave way to red; the lettering clearly warning that this was a high security zone. There was no guard at the entry, but there seldom was. They were posted further down, to stop those who ignored the initial warning.

Sheena stopped, not knowing what to do. She had not seen Obi- Wan on the way, had he found his way all right? Or...

A muffled cry from down the hall made her heart skip. It sounded like Obi-Wan's voice. She edged forward uncertainly over the red line on the floor, her heart pounding. She hesitated, but another cry from around the corner goaded her on. Peeking around the edge of the wall she felt her heart drop down into her toes. Three men had Obi-Wan down on the floor and were beating him without mercy.

Brun lifted Obi-Wan's head up by his hair, looking into the teenager's bloodied face. "Don't make me angry kid," Brun growled. One of the guards kicked Obi-Wan in the side, making the boy cry out in pain.

Sheena pulled back around the corner. Leaning against the wall she bit her lip, pressing her eyes shut in an attempt to force the image out of her mind. From the other side of the corner, she heard Obi-Wan gasp and cry out softly, timed with the sickening sound of flesh striking flesh.

"I'm not going to stop until you tell me what I want to know spy," Brun threatened, dragging Obi-Wan up and having the guards pin him against the wall once more. Pulling the blaster from his holster Brun held the barrel, threatening Obi-Wan with the heavy handle.

Obi-Wan's head swam and his breathing heaved raggedly. He struggled against the helplessness that engulfed him, but he couldn't fight it this time. He was helpless. Even if he could have gotten away from Brun and the guards, what would he do? Where would he go? Running was one thing he had never tried to do without his eyes, and if he couldn't even find his way from one wing to the other, what chance did he have of getting away? Despair got him at last and he accepted that he was going to die. It didn't really matter, he supposed. This proved to him that he could never become a Knight without his eyes, couldn't even be a real Jedi, and if that was taken away from him, his life was meaningless.

"I'm not a spy," Obi-Wan mumbled, his voice thick with pain. "I can't tell you what I don't know."

Sheena heard a sharp thud, followed by an anguished cry. She couldn't stand it. Obi-Wan was just a boy, one who was coping incredibly well with a debilitating disability; he'd done nothing to deserve this kind of punishment. She knew Brun, he was ruthless. He would beat the boy to death if Obi-Wan did not tell him what he wanted. And Obi-Wan could not.

Sheena clenched her fists at her sides. She was not going to let that happen, but knew that trying to talk to Brun would get her nowhere but in trouble for being in this area herself. Turning, she hurried back down the hall towards the Administrators rooms. She had never dared to ask him for anything before, but with Obi-Wan's life at stake, she had to at least try.

Verjl was stacking clothes in his travel-case when Sheena burst through the door, panting for breath, her silvery cheeks flushed. "Good grief, Sheena you look like you've run a mile, what's wrong?" he asked, straightening up with concern.

"Please sir, please, I need your help! He's done nothing wrong, he didn't know he was in the wrong place, don't let them kill him!" Sheena panted out, a trifle incoherently.

"Slow down Sheena," Verjl tried to calm the young woman. "What are you talking about? Who's going to kill who?"

"Brun, he's beating one of the slaves. Obi didn't mean it, but they're killing him! Please Master," she implored.

The Administrator's face darkened. "Come," he said simply, leaving the room at a quick trot. He still didn't completely understand what Sheena was trying to tell him, but he got the drift. It wouldn't be the first time he had had to stop Brun from mistreating the servants.

Verjl glanced sharply at Sheena when he realized where they were heading. "Sheena, this area is restricted, how-"

But Sheena was already ahead of him, her haste imploring that he hurry as well. Turning the corner, Verjl saw Brun, the guards, and the nearly unconscious slave. All of them except Obi-Wan looked up when the Administrator came into view.

"What's this Brun?" Verjl inquired calmly. "More trouble?"

"Sir," Brun straightened up, releasing the hold he had on Obi- Wan's shirt collar, letting the boy's head loll forward. "We caught this slave spying, sir. He refuses to admit to it, or reveal what he was after."

Verjl shot a hard glance at Sheena. She had said nothing about the boy being a spy, and what were either of them doing in this area in the first place?

Sheena twisted the cuff of her sleeve. "He's not a spy sir, I know him, I know he's not."

When Obi-Wan heard Sheena's voice he lifted his head a little. "Sheena?" he more mouthed than said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Verjl studied the boy. He couldn't be much over sixteen, if that old, but the Administrator had seen younger children than this boy die horrible deaths for their involvement with the underground. Still, Sheena had never proven herself untrustworthy to him before...

"Are you a spy boy?" Verjl inquired, standing in front of Obi- Wan.

"No, sir," Obi-Wan replied in the same husky voice.

"Then what were you doing in here?" Verjl tried to catch the young man's eyes. It disturbed him that he could not.

Obi-Wan leaned his throbbing head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I got lost." He didn't expect this man to believe him any more than the others had. He was almost in too much pain to care.

"Lost?" Verjl's dark eyes narrowed skeptically. "Look," the Administrator said firmly. "I'm a fair man, but you have to be honest with me. What were you doing here?"

"I am being honest with you," Obi-Wan was so tired of this conversation. He seemed to keep having it over and over, and it never made a difference. "I got lost. Please sir, I'm telling you the truth!" Obi-Wan was desperate for someone to believe him.

Verjl was puzzled. Something about the boy smacked of honesty to him, but... "How is that possible?" he demanded, still trying to catch Obi-Wan's averted eyes. "Look me in the eye slave," he said, a trifle sharply.

Obi-Wan tried, tried to imagine where the man's eyes were, tried to use the Force to guide him, but he was too worn out and worked over, he couldn't make their gazes meet.

Verjl's jaw tightened. "If you won't be honest with me I'll give you back to Brun and we'll see what he and these other men can get out of you," he threatened.

Obi-Wan moaned softly without meaning to do so.

"Please Master," Sheena interjected. "Obi-Wan is telling you the truth. He did get lost, and he didn't see the signs because, because he's blind sir," she blurted out, almost without thinking.

Obi-Wan stiffened. *"Sheena! You promised!"* he groaned to himself. He was dead for sure now.

*"I'm sorry Obi-Wan,"* Sheena thought miserably, but she could think of no other way to explain this.

"Blind," Verjl echoed in disbelief.

"That's a bold-faced lie!" Brun declared indignantly. "Sir, it's impossible that the boy is blind. If what he says is true, he's been working here for over a week, and before that he was in the camps," that much of Obi-Wan's story Brun had learned from him during the beating. "They don't keep blind people there!"

No, they didn't. But something inside Verjl told him that this would not be the first person he had seen survive the camps with a normally debilitating injury. *A week, from the camps...* Suddenly something Sheena had said registered in his mind.

"What's your name boy?" he inquired, a strange feeling creeping through his bones.

"Kenobi sir. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

*Obi-Wan Kenobi.* Verjl shook his head. The boy had been right under their noses this whole time! He could kick himself for missing the obvious for so long. Instead, he motioned the guards away from Obi-Wan.

When the guards let go, Obi-Wan nearly slid to his knees, but steadied himself against the wall.

"This is an easy matter to settle," Verjl said calmly. "Let's take the boy down to Dr. Wren. He should be able to tell us if he is truly blind or not."

The issue was quickly resolved when the doctor concurred that Obi-Wan's eyes, although visibly un-scarred, were indeed damaged to the point of uselessness. Although it saved his life, the affirmation of his problem and the definitive way the Doctor declared him damaged and blind numbed Obi-Wan's heart.

"Hm," Verjl said thoughtfully. "Can it be corrected?"

Dr. Wren shook his head. "I doubt it. The damage is too extensive, and too old."

In Obi-Wan's already weakened state the blow was devastating. That was it then. There was no reversing this. He was going to be blind forever. The young Jedi slid numbly off the examining table. His injuries made him unsteady, but the pain in his heart easily equaled that in the rest of his body.

"Be careful not to be over zealous Brun," Verjl warned as they prepared to take their leave. "Just because you caught one traitor does not mean that you should jump to the conclusion that all are traitors."

"Yes, sir," the young man said clippedly.

"Very good," Verjl dismissed him. With Sheena and Obi-Wan in tow, he headed back once more toward his quarters. "Are you all right?" he asked Obi-Wan once they were alone.

"I will be," Obi-Wan said quietly, but he wasn't sure he believed himself. "Thank you sir."

"Thank Sheena," Verjl brushed Obi-Wan's gratitude aside. He reflected how very close he had come to missing the boy and felt quite thankful himself.

Once inside his rooms, Verjl sat Obi-Wan down in a chair and had Sheena get some water to clean him up a little.

Obi-Wan wondered why this man was being so nice to him. Sheena had said their Master was a good man, but Obi-Wan had almost forgotten that people could be anything other than cruel and uncaring.

While Sheena washed Obi-Wan's injuries, Verjl punched the wall comlink on the other side of the room. "Send Jinn up here," he ordered.

Obi-Wan grimaced and flinched as Sheena's cloth cleaned his painful cuts and bruises, but suddenly another feeling came to him. Someone was approaching the room. No, not just someone...

Obi-Wan was on his feet in an instant. The sudden motion made his head swim nauseatingly, but he pushed it away.

Sheena jumped back in surprise. "Obi?" she asked, but the look on his face told her that he was not paying attention to anything that she could see, hear or understand.

Suddenly the door swooshed open and a tall man with long brown hair hurried through it on long strides. Qui-Gon had felt Obi- Wan all the way down the hall. This close, nothing could keep them from sensing one another's presence.

"Master!" Obi-Wan's voice cracked slightly, only this time, it had nothing to do with the pain of the injuries that Brun and the others had inflicted on him.

Qui-Gon did not bother wasting the time of speaking Obi-Wan's name, but wrapped his casted arms around his apprentice as the boy reached out, searching eagerly for the big Jedi.

Sheena felt strangely choked up.

Obi-Wan held onto Qui-Gon tightly for a moment, savoring the feeling of safety and comfort that that flowed between them. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's relief and matched it with his own. "I thought I'd lost you Padawan," he said softly, giving Obi-Wan a light squeeze. He held the boy close, but gently because he could feel the pain in his Padawan's body.

"You'll never guess who I found right under our noses Jinn," Verjl remarked with a soft smile. "All this time we've been looking for him he was right here."

The irony was not lost on Qui-Gon, but also it disturbed him more than a little. How could he and Obi-Wan have been so close this whole time and never felt even a flicker of the other's presence?

Obi-Wan wavered slightly. He could feel his pulse pounding painfully in the swollen knot behind his left ear, the one that Brun had given him with the blunt end of his blaster. The spinning in his head was getting worse, but Obi-Wan refused to let it ruin the moment.

"Thank you Administrator," the big Jedi said, his eyes thanking Verjl far more than his words ever could.

"Like I told your young friend, the thanks goes to Sheena. I would not have found him but for her," Verjl deferred once more.

Qui-Gon's warm eyes turned on the Inui woman, melting her on the spot.

"You didn't exactly level with me Jinn," Verjl said in mild reprove. "You didn't tell me the boy was blind, but the injuries are old. Didn't quite trust me eh?"

"It never came up Administrator," Qui-Gon replied, unperturbed. Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a last squeeze and released him. Obi-Wan took an uncertain step backward, the pounding in his head turning into a deafening hammer. The young Jedi wavered for a moment, then his knees buckled and he collapsed.

Qui-Gon caught the Padawan before he hit the floor and Sheena hurried to help him. The last memory Obi-Wan had was the vague notion of being lifted and the cool feel of the quilt below him as he was laid upon the Administrator's bed.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, but, as always, the world stayed just as dark. He felt Qui-Gon close by, but did not reach out. He knew his Master was there and was determined to stop being so clingy. He didn't want Qui-Gon thinking he was a big baby. He was stronger than that.

Even if he couldn't be a Jedi, he could still be strong. He would always respect Qui-Gon, even when he could no longer be his pupil. That thought made Obi-Wan sad, but he tried to push it away so Qui-Gon would not feel his sorrow. There was something else Obi-Wan was feeling too, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon shook his head. Knowing Obi-Wan was awake even before his eyes opened. "It seems I am forever finding myself at your bedside. Why do these things always seem to happen to you?" his voice was mild, almost playful.

Obi-Wan smiled dryly up at the ceiling. "I have no idea Master."

Qui-Gon's brows knitted in concern. Obi-Wan responded cheerfully enough to him, but something was missing, something on a deeper level. *"Obi-Wan,"* he reached out a warm tendril through the Force but received no answer. *"Obi-Wan? Speak to me Obi-Wan,"* he strengthened and repeated the wave, becoming increasingly concerned by his apprentice's lack of response.

"I'm here, I'm just... tired, Master," Obi-Wan replied aloud after a moment, finally returning Qui-Gon's Force-wave, but only half-heartedly.

That was unlike Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was worried. He laid his right hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, feeling the Padawan's temperature. It was high, but not dangerously so. He feared that Obi-Wan was much more ill than they had thought, judging from his strange reaction.

"Do you feel all right Obi-Wan?" he inquired in concern.

"As all right as I can after being worked over by three large men with sledgehammers for fists," Obi-Wan moaned, sitting up and holding his head. "How did you get here?" Obi-Wan's flushed face paled as he tried to sit. He thought his head was going to fall off. Then he wished it would. He hadn't hurt quite this bad, or at least this way, since he'd been worked over by that heavy-handed Hutt on the way to Bandomeer when he was just twelve. Ironic, he grimaced. That beating had also been given under the assumption that he was a spy because he had been someplace he shouldn't have been.

"That is a story for another time and place," Qui-Gon said, pressing two small, powdery, circular objects into Obi-Wan's hand and then passing him a glass of water. "I have tried to help start your healing, but until we have time to get you into a proper trance, you might want to take these."

Obi-Wan gulped the pain-pills with a twinge of guilt. He shouldn't rely on crutches like that, but Qui-Gon was right. He wasn't about to get very far right now without them.

Qui-Gon patted Obi-Wan's shoulder gently with his more mobile right hand. "We all need help from time to time," he reassured, feeling the Padawan's hesitancy.

Obi-Wan slid off the bed slowly. He appreciated that Qui-Gon was trying to make him feel better, but it didn't help really. It was just one more thing that brought home to him the reality that he could no longer be the only thing he had wanted all his life to be.

Qui-Gon could tell the boy was feeling badly, but given his condition that was not a surprise. He did not yet realize the depth of Obi-Wan's discouragement. "I have something else for you," Qui-Gon said, sliding a cool metal cylinder into his Padawan's hand. Obi-Wan recognized the familiar feel of his lightsaber. He smiled despite himself, curling his fingers tightly around the smooth handle. Qui-Gon nodded approvingly. It was good to see Obi-Wan smile. Administrator Owskar had tracked down and retrieved both lightsabers shortly after discovering that Qui-Gon was a Jedi.

"Is the boy ready Jinn?" Verjl asked, entering from the hall. "The ship leaves in an hour."

"I'm ready," Obi-Wan affirmed for himself. "Where are we going?"

"Away from Driosnia, which ought to make you happy," Verjl said. "And we won't be coming back," he added softer. "Jinn can fill you in as to the details."

Obi-Wan struggled to comprehend what was happening. Everything seemed to be moving so fast. There were so many questions, so much he didn't understand... Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon for an explanation. Qui-Gon made it as brief as possible, yet gave Obi-Wan all the details he could.

"I see," Obi-Wan nodded, grasping the importance of what they were going to embark on.

The door chimed and it was Sheena. "Excuse me Master," she said when Verjl keyed it open. "You said you wanted to know when they were ready for you and Mr. Jinn to board." "Thank you Sheena," Verjl nodded. "You may inform them that Kenobi will also be accompanying us to serve me on this journey."

"Yes, sir," Sheena acquiesced. She felt a trifle jealous, she wished the Administrator would take her with him. Now not only was he going away, but he was also taking Obi-Wan with him, leaving her alone in this place.

Verjl did not miss her look. "I'm sorry Sheena," he said gently. "I wish I could take you too." He couldn't tell her he wouldn't be coming back. The less she knew, the better it was for her. He also couldn't just pick up and take all these people with him without attracting attention he could not afford.

Sheena just nodded and left to do as he bid her. She did not know what was going on, but she had seen enough to know that something was.

Obi-Wan quickly put on the new clothes he was given; clipping his lightsaber on the shiny black belt and letting the blue jacket fall over and conceal it. He did not like the idea of leaving Sheena behind, but understood the reason that they must. Verjl palmed the door open and the small group headed for the landing platform.

Grey, murky morning hung in the Driosnian sky and high over head the distant black forms of native birds flirted with the upper air currents. The air itself was damp with morning moisture and the earth felt quiet, as if it was still under the spell of night's nocturnal slumber. The wind carried the soft sounds of the night insects to them from the shadowy darkness of the fringe of trees that lined the path to the hanger.

As they neared the hangar by the landing platform, Obi-Wan smelt the odors of fuel, oil, grease and exhaust mingling in the air. He could feel the big ship that waited for them on the landing field, engines warming, and the cold ones, more distant and remote feeling, in the hangar. He also felt Sheena, walking towards them.

"I informed them as you requested. They are waiting for you," Sheena updated them a trifle flatly. "Goodbye Master," she bid Verjl farewell. "May the stars speed your journey. You too Mr. Jinn," she nodded at the older Jedi. *"I wish I knew what you were all up to..."* "Goodbye Obi-Wan," she smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder like a fond big sister. "When you get back I've got a floor you can help me with," she teased, bending down to give him a light peck on the cheek. "But you're not coming back, are you," she whispered softly in his ear when she pretended to kiss him. "Any of you."

Obi-Wan stiffened slightly. "Master, may I be excused to speak to Sheena for a moment, alone?" he requested.

Qui-Gon cocked an amused eyebrow. *"Don't you think she's a little old for you Padawan?"* he thought in jest. "All right Obi-Wan," was all he said out loud. "But not too long, we don't have much time."

"I shall go ahead. Meet me in my cabin in no more than fifteen minutes," Administrator Verjl informed them before continuing ahead.

Obi-Wan nodded in answer to both men's statements and Qui-Gon moved off a few yards to give them the privacy Obi-Wan had requested. Obi-Wan really didn't care if his Master overheard, he just wasn't so sure he wanted the Administrator to. He didn't know him very well yet and he did not want to put Sheena in any kind of danger.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Sheena said when they were left alone together.

"I can't say Sheena," Obi-Wan said with quiet urgency. "But for your own sake never mention it again and forget that you ever knew us."

"That important hm?" she said soberly.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I have to go now."

Sheena held him back a moment. If this was the last time she was ever going to see any of them, she didn't want to let go just yet. "I'm happy for you Obi-Wan. Now you can go back to your Jedi, all those things you told me about," she whispered, half hoarsely, half dreamily.

Obi-Wan bit his lip, fighting the sorrow that he had thought he had under control. *It wasn't fair...* "I wish I could Sheena," he whispered softly. "But that's not for me anymore..." his voice trailed off. He kicked himself. Why bring her down with his problems? This was hard enough for her already.

"Because of your eyes?" Sheena asked softly, sadness penetrating her entire being.

"Never mind, forget it. I'm sorry Sheena. Thank you for all you did for me. I hope everything works out. I'll never forget you," Obi-Wan turned in the direction of his waiting Master. "I really do have to go now."

Sheena squeezed his hand and then let go. "Wherever you go and whatever you do, may your stars shine brightly Obi-Wan."

"Yours too Sheena."

Qui-Gon stood at a distance, watching his Padawan say goodbye to the Inui woman. Obi-Wan made friends so easily. Sometimes too easily, it had caused him problems more than once.

Obi-Wan was being quiet, but making no real effort to keep their conversation from the older Jedi, and Qui-Gon heard most of what passed between them. It was much what he had suspected. He thought that Sheena suspected more than she was letting on. She had seen too much not to. He hoped she would heed Obi-Wan's advice and keep silent about it or she stood to die a terrible death. The next exchange however, caught Qui- Gon by surprise. His heart ached when he realized the reason behind Obi-Wan's unusual behavior and distance. Obi-Wan was sure he could never be a Jedi Knight. He was distancing himself from that dream as quickly as he could in an attempt to make the loss hurt less. That's why he wouldn't open up, that's why he had retreated so far within himself that Qui-Gon could not find him, even when they were living in the same mansion.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as they headed on towards the landing pad. "You are not the only Jedi who has ever lost their eyesight," he said quietly. "And I am not about to drop you because of it."

For a moment, Obi-Wan did not respond. He realized that Qui- Gon must have heard what he said to Sheena. Gravel crunched under their feet as they approached the hangar.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan nodded after a moment, but Qui-Gon could tell there was no confidence behind the words.

"We don't even know if it's permanent yet, and a Jedi must never make assumptions..." Qui-Gon tried to shake Obi-Wan out of the depression he had settled into.

His words had an effect, although perhaps not the one he had desired. "It's not an assumption," Obi-Wan half interrupted, his voice choking slightly. "Administrator Owskar took me to a doctor, he said my eyes were too far gone," Obi-Wan's throat clutched up. He buried his face in his hands. "I'll never see again," he whispered into the darkness that surrounded him. Obi-Wan knew he was handling this badly and that only compounded his pain. He had not meant to burst out like that, he thought he was resolved about all this, but he found now that he was not.

They had both stopped walking. The moist early morning breeze tugged at their clothes, rustling Qui-Gon's long hair. The breeze carried with it the smell of life and beginnings, as if stubbornly denying the death and destruction that spread like a stain across the face of Driosnia.

Thousands of lives on this planet were being snuffed out and ruined every day. Qui-Gon did not intend to let Obi-Wan become another casualty of the Drojan's war on decency. He put his right hand on the Padawan's shoulder. Qui-Gon had not known that Obi-Wan had been to a physician, but that didn't change anything. Not all who wore the title of doctor were equals. He himself would not give up hope until the Temple Healers had had a chance to look at Obi-Wan, and even if they concurred that Obi-Wan was indeed destined to be blind for life, it would still change nothing. He would continue to train Obi- Wan, Obi-Wan would become a Knight.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't, it doesn't matter. Do you stop being you just because you can't see? Will you throw away everything you have worked so hard for just because you encounter an obstacle?" Qui-Gon gently prodded at Obi-Wan's self-pity.

"Don't you understand?" Obi-Wan flared slightly. "I can't do it, I can't be a Jedi anymore! What I've been through, what's happened to me proves that," Obi-Wan gestured to his still fresh injuries.

"If you tell yourself you can't do something, you won't be able to. Your blindness does not limit you Obi-Wan, you limit yourself," Qui-Gon shook his head.

An anger that Obi-Wan had not realized was there clamped down on him like a vice, squeezing his already hurting heart painfully. He had been through too much pain lately, physically, emotionally, and he had done it alone. Alone.

"You don't understand," there were tears in Obi-Wan's sightless eyes. Tears of pain, tears of anger, tears of confusion. "How could you understand what I've gone through?" the apprentice flung at his Master without thinking. "You weren't there, I couldn't find you, you left me! You left me alone in that place." Obi-Wan's voice dropped to a whisper as his true pain tumbled out. As soon as it was out, he felt stupid. Good grief, had he really said that? Had he really been so childish? For a moment he was glad he could not see Qui-Gon. He did not want to see his Master's reaction to such a statement.

Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan was not talking about their physical separation. "So that's it? You're angry with me?" he asked mildly.

"No!" Obi-Wan replied miserably, but wasn't that what he had just said? "I mean, yes, but no, but I don't... I mean... I'm sorry Master." Obi-Wan himself didn't know what he meant. He was blind, confused, in miserable pain and more upset with himself than with anyone or anything else.

Nearby they could hear the building hum of the ship's engines. Qui-Gon knew they had to go, but he could not leave the situation this way. "Obi-Wan, I'm sorry I had to break our connection, but I was hardly in a position to give the idea a lengthy debate. I did what I thought was right at the time. I tried to find you later, but you were closed to me."

"I know Master, I'm sorry," Obi-Wan shook his head miserably. "I-I didn't realize I felt that way. I don't blame you. I didn't mean to say what I did."

Qui-Gon sighed. Obi-Wan could feel the heaviness in his Master's body. He knew this time had been no easier for Qui- Gon than it had for him. He didn't blame Qui-Gon, he knew his Master had shut their connection in an effort to protect him and he knew that Qui-Gon was right about what he told him just now. But he was still blind, and helpless, and it looked as if he would always be that way.

Qui-Gon seemed about to say something, but he never got the chance. All at once a loud scream shattered the pre-dawn air.

Sheena watched Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon move away. Watched them until they turned into small, dark shapes, overhung by the sprawling visage of the hangar. She wondered where they were all going and why. Finding no answers, and knowing they were probably too dangerous to understand anyway, she turned to head back to the house.

Suddenly, an arm closed around her throat, holding her neck tightly in the crook of the elbow. "All right Danshe," a voice sneered the derogatory name for her people. "What did the kid say to you?"

Sheena recognized Brun's voice. "N-nothing," she struggled to keep the quake of surprise out of her tone. "Just goodbye."

"Why did it take so long? And why is he suddenly going with? Hm? The kid is mighty close to that big aide, I'd say they knew each other all ready. How?" Brun demanded, tightening his arm until Sheena couldn't breathe.

"I don't know, let me go, I've done nothing wrong," Sheena gasped, pulling desperately at Brun's arm.

"Oh, but you spent a lot of time with the kid Sheena, you're the one who brought the Administrator into it when he turned up in the restricted area. I find it difficult to believe that you learned nothing about him in all that time. Why not make this easier and tell me?"

"Let me go!" Sheena started struggling in earnest. "I know your voice Brun! You better not touch me or I'll tell Master Owskar when he gets back!" she threatened with a bravado she did not feel. Brun had been warned more than once to leave her alone.

"Ah, that's assuming he's coming back. That's something I've been wondering about. All his money's been transferred off planet Danshe. Oh, not in any obvious way, but it's gone."

Sheena knew Brun had to have been snooping about in the Administrators personal files to find that out. "So what? Maybe the rates are better," Sheena said dryly.

Brun laughed softly in her ear, but it was neither mirthful, nor pleasant. Dragging her back towards the house he pressed her against the wall on her stomach, releasing her throat and twisting her left arm behind her back. "You're funny Sheena, but now is the time to be serious. Deadly serious. My Uncle is a traitor Danshe; the Krallnorn has been watching him for a long time. He's up to something now, I know it. He must be stopped." Brun twisted her arm harder, until Sheena thought he would break it. She moaned in pain, trying to squirm away from him, but he was stronger than she was and he had the advantage. Sheena felt the cold muzzle of his blaster press against the base of her neck.

"I haven't got time to play games. What did the boy say Sheena?" Brun demanded his voice chillingly cold.

"N-nothing, really," Sheena shook her head. "I-I asked him where they were going, and he said he couldn't tell me," she knew she had to be careful what she said. She did not want to betray the Administrator and Obi-Wan, but she did not doubt that Brun would kill her if she failed to cooperate.

"That's not good enough Danshe," Brun's grip on her tightened. "Who is the boy, who is that new aide that Verjl keeps with him all the time? How do they know each other?"

"Please Brun, I don't know," Sheena squirmed. Her arm burned and her heart was pounding a mile a minute. With the Administrator leaving for good, Brun could do whatever he wanted to her and there would be no one to stop him.

Brun struck her across the back of her head with his blaster. "That's Mr. Owskar to you Danshe scum! Tell me, or I'll leave you down at the guardhouse. Maybe after a few hours with them, your memory will become clearer," he threatened.

"I-I don't know much, really," Sheena's voice shook with terror that she could not hide. "K-Kenobi and Jinn knew each other in the camps, before they came here. The Administrator made Jinn his aide because he saved his life, I assume that's why he took Kenobi as well, for Jinn's sake," Sheena told the truth, just not all of it.

"I know that much," Brun snapped. "You're not being helpful Danshe." He struck her again.

Sheena saw stars. Her head throbbed. Brun's voice cut through her like a vibro-blade.

"How did Kenobi survive the camps blind? There's a lie here somewhere, what is it about him that you're hiding?" Brun struck her in the small of her back, making Sheena give a little cry. Brun released her arm. Spinning her around so that they were face to face, he pressed the muzzle of the blaster under her chin. "We're short on time. The ship is leaving within the hour. As much as I would enjoy trying to make you talk; it would take too long. I'm going to count, and when I get to five, either you are going to tell me what I want to know, or I'm going to blow your head off. It's that simple. One, two, three..."

Sheena's heart hammered. She saw Brun's finger tightening on the trigger.

"Four, five," Brun's hand tightened. "Too bad Danshe," he whispered.

"No! Wait!" Sheena cried, terrified. "Obi-Wan's, he's... he's a Jedi," she whispered, hanging her head in shame at having betrayed the secret.

Brun nodded. It all made sense now. He had suspected, but now he knew for sure. "Jinn too?"

Sheena nodded brokenly.

"So that's what he's up to," Brun whispered. "He's going to betray us all, and he's got the Jedi to help him." Bruck's light grey eyes turned icy cold. "Thanks Sheena," he mocked, his finger once more tightening on the trigger of his blaster. "You've been a real help."

Sheena saw the murderous intent in his eyes and realized in an instant that he intended to kill her anyway.

"Mr. Owskar?" the voice of one of the guards made Brun look up for a moment.

Sheena seized the opportunity. Shoving the blaster away from her neck she threw herself sideways. A blaster bolt zinged by her ear, scorching the wall behind her. She hit the ground rolling and jumped up. Another shot made the earth by her feet explode. Sheena screamed and made a dash for the trees on their right. She knew she stood no chance out in the open.

The two Jedi stiffened, alert and on guard, their hands straying automatically to the hilts of their lightsabers. Qui- Gon looked around, and Obi-Wan stretched out with his other senses.

"Sheena," they both said at the same time. Sheena was in trouble; something was wrong, very wrong.

"Obi-Wan, get to the ship, be sure that the Administrator is protected," Qui-Gon ordered as he moved swiftly off towards the source of the scream.

For a moment Obi-Wan hesitated, hating to be sent off to safety, hating to be useless. Then his mind kicked in and he realized that Qui-Gon had given him an assignment, not told him to hide. Hurrying toward the ship he met Verjl on the loading ramp.

"What's taking so long? Where's Jinn?" the Administrator asked impatiently. "What's going on?" He got his answer a moment later.

"Duck!" Obi-Wan cried, sensing the shot before it came and pulling Verjl down with him. More shots whizzed at them from the cover of the ship parked on their left. Verjl started to crawl up the ramp towards the safety of the ship's entry, but Obi-Wan grabbed his arm and shoved him off the side of the ramp instead, just as a fresh volley of shots exploded at them from inside the ship itself, scorching the spot on the ramp that they had occupied only moments earlier.

Obi-Wan and Verjl pressed their backs against the underside of the loading ramp, momentarily hidden in the shadows. Obi-Wan knew it wouldn't take long before their attackers figured out where they went. This ramp would not provide much protection against a direct assault.

"Looks as if they are on to me," Verjl shook his head. Failure making his heart sink like a lead balloon. "I never expected them to be able to strike so swiftly, at such short notice. I have failed," he said with resigned misery.

Obi-Wan was trying to think fast. "Not yet," he shook his head. They had to do something, but what? He knew what he'd do if he still had his eyes, but what could he do now? *"Your blindness does not limit you Obi-Wan, you limit yourself,"* Qui-Gon's words came back to him. Was he limiting himself? A shot whizzed past their heads. Their attackers had found them.

Qui-Gon ran towards the house. His pace swiftened when he saw the distinct flashes of blaster fire ahead of him. Sheena scrambled through the trees, her heart in her throat.

Brun had shot the guard who had been unfortunate enough to interrupt him and now he was after her. A hot blast shattered the tree limb above her head. The line of trees was thin and the protection scanty. Sheena realized she was not going to make it. The blaster fell silent. She peeked cautiously out of the trees to see where Brun was and found herself staring down the barrel of his weapon.

There was a flash of fire and Sheena fell back, expecting to feel the bolt blow her head off, but instead, she found herself falling backward onto the ground, her heart thumping, but completely unharmed. A moment later her reeling brain realized that it had not been the orange/white flare of a blaster bolt, but a flash of intense green fire that sliced down on the black barrel of the weapon, cutting it to pieces and knocking it to the ground. Sheena looked up and saw the man that Obi-Wan called Master holding a glowing green light- sword in his right hand.

Brun jumped back with an oath. After that, everything unfolded rather quickly. Before Sheena even had a chance to draw, much less catch, her breath somewhere near six or seven soldiers appeared. Drawn by the sounds of the fire-fight ensuing outside they spilled out of the house like ants rushing out of an ant hill when a child pokes it with a stick. Quickly taking in the situation they immediately reacted by opening fire on Qui-Gon.

Verjl returned fire from around the edge of the ramp, but they couldn't hold the position for long.

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber. It was strange to hear the familiar hum of the blade but not see its blue/white light. "You have the clearance codes for any of these ships, right?" Obi-Wan asked Verjl over the roar of the gunfire.

Verjl nodded. "Yes. Unless they have nullified my security pass."

*"Let's hope they didn't,"* Obi-Wan thought grimly. "Run for the hangar," he instructed the Administrator. "Get to one of the ships and prepare for takeoff. I'll cover you."

"What?!" Verjl protested incredulously. "I can't let you do that! You're blind!"

Obi-Wan grimaced. He did not need to be reminded of that. "It doesn't matter, go!"

"But-"

"Go!" Obi-Wan fairly shouted, deflecting a blaster bolt with his lightsaber and shoving the Administrator towards the edge of the ramp.

With no time to argue further, Verjl made a break for the cover of the hangar, spraying blaster fire in the direction of at least one group of their attackers to make them keep their heads down.

Obi-Wan sprang out right behind him, covering the Administrator's back. Blaster bolts exploded around the blind Jedi, heating the air and filing it with a burning smell. Obi- Wan reached out to the limits of his abilities and training. Letting the Force flow through him he whirled his saber, deflecting shot after shot. Twirling and spinning with an agility he had thought lost to him, the apprentice backed towards the hanger, safely covering their retreat.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Verjl saw Obi-Wan deflecting the volley of bolts directed at them with an ease and skill that defied reality. The feat would have been impossible for a normal man, and Obi-Wan was blind! The Administrator was awed. Impressed was simply not the word.

Reaching the cover of the hanger he turned his mind back to the task at hand. Choosing a small, swift craft with a sleek design that was near the entrance Verjl pulled out his security pass and prayed that it was still valid.

Obi-Wan stood in the yawning hangar entryway, standing off against the forces outside. He could feel them massing to rush him. No doubt some of them were also slipping around to come up from behind. "Master!" was all he had time to call out before they came at him in force.

Qui-Gon jumped to put himself between Sheena and the attacking guards, parrying their shots with trained efficiency. Wielding his saber one-handed was awkward, but his right arm was the only one that had near enough alacrity and movement to attempt it. The cast on his left held it basically immobile from the shoulder down.

Sheena watched the scene before her unfold in a kind of unreal slow motion. The big Jedi returned every shot sent at them, sending them flying back into the midst of the soldiers, scattering them like chaff on a windy day. Suddenly she saw Brun pull a concealed blaster from under his jacket and aim it at Qui-Gon's back.

Before Sheena's lips could form a warning or her mind could even tell it to do so Brun pulled the trigger.

Qui-Gon whirled around at the last instant, turning and blocking the shot in one graceful movement. Brun moved sideways at the same moment, inadvertently moving into the path of the reflected shot. His own bolt caught the young man in the chest, throwing him backward. He was dead by the time he hit the ground.

Sheena felt the big Jedi's good hand close around hers, jerking her out of her shock and pulling her urgently to her feet.

Qui-Gon's brow was creased in concern and his blue eyes were steeped in anxiousness. By the sound of it, a fight was going on down by the hangar, and Qui-Gon could hear Obi-Wan calling out to him for help. "Stay with me," he ordered Sheena, starting back towards the landing field at a dead run.

Verjl held his breath as he scanned his pass card through. The first time he put it through too fast and the light flashed red. Trying to steady his hand and slow his heart, he let the computer scan it again. This time, the door swished open.

Looking around he saw that Obi-Wan was still standing in the doorway, but falling slowly back under the sheer volume of the attack. Hurrying to the cockpit he started the engine warming cycle. It would take five minutes for the cold engines to be ready for lift off. Five minutes they did not have.

Obi-Wan danced backward, saber spinning. There was a sudden lull in the firing and Obi-Wan's senses perked up, scanning intently for the cause. The silence was more unnerving than the attack. What was happening? Where were they? A trickle of terror tried to run through him, but he banished it firmly. He didn't need to see to know what was happening, he could feel...

Bringing his saber up he jumped to the left, evading a shot that came from behind, and above him. Some of the attackers had made it up into the service catwalks that ran across the ceiling of the hanger. He could feel more of them coming from the rear of the building. Meanwhile, the rest of the soldiers had resumed their forward charge on the hangar door. Obi-Wan was caught between the two ground forces on both sides and the snipers in the catwalks above. The situation was not good. Trying to fight two fronts at once, he deflected both the oncoming shots and the one's from above.

*"Why don't the soldiers behind us open fire?"* he wondered. He could feel them there, but they had not yet...

"Administrator!" Obi-Wan shouted urgently as the realization hit him. "Seal the doors! They're trying to sneak up on you!"

Verjl saw them a moment later, swarming towards him openly now that their cover was blown. For a brief instant he hesitated, fearing that if he sealed the doors, he sealed Obi-Wan's fate with them. No matter how good Obi-Wan was, the ex- Administrator doubted that there was anyway the boy could escape this trap alive. Verjl set his jaw grimly and keyed the doors shut, keeping the guards out, and trapping Obi-Wan out with them. The young Jedi knew what he was doing, the Driosnian told himself. He knew as well as Verjl did just how long he could expect to last out there.

The soldiers pounded on the hatch, attempting to blast it open with their hand weapons. However, the bolts were not strong enough to pierce the thick armor of the spacecraft.

Obi-Wan knew he was in trouble. Diving behind one of the ships he tried to put some distance between himself and the attacking soldiers in front of him. He could sense them on the other side of the ship, rushing through the now unguarded entryway.

A shot from above grazed by his ear, narrowly missing him. Obi-Wan brought his saber up again, desperately seeking some vantage point that would offer him better protection. Before one could present itself, he had to spin around to face the violent barrage of shots that whistled around him as the soldiers followed him between the ships. Obi-Wan parried all the shots, sending them back until the air smelt of charred flesh, but still they kept coming.

Again the hail of shots from above, this time, nearly clipping his right arm. Obi-Wan threw himself to the ground, rolled under the low belly of a ship and popped up on the other side. He momentarily lost the ground pursuit, but the shots from above followed him, and they were increasing in rapidity, more soldiers were taking to the catwalks.

*"Come on, come on!"* Verjl silently urged the ship, tapping his hand on the console urgently as if he could coax the cold engines to rev-up faster. He could no longer see the Jedi boy, but over half the solders were still off chasing him, leaving only a handful to concentrate on the Administrator's ship. The boy was buying him precious time, he only hoped Obi-Wan wouldn't have to pay for it with his life.

Obi-Wan wound his way further and further back into the maze of ships, with the soldiers in hot pursuit. Half of him was glad; the more soldiers who followed him, the better chance Verjl had of standing them off long enough to get the ship warmed up. On the other hand, his chances of surviving this encounter decreased with each passing moment. He could only evade them for so long and he was already beginning to feel himself growing weary.

*"Where are you Master?"* Obi-Wan thought, pressing his back tightly against the smooth hull of a ship as blaster fire whizzed by him. During a slight lull in the barrage, he made a break for the next covered spot. His spinning head served as an unpleasant reminder of what Brun had done to him not too many hours ago. His body had not yet had time to recover, and it was now informing him of its displeasure with the demands he was placing upon it. Obi-Wan forced his leaden legs to move, his right one was beginning to lag. Amid everything that had happened to him at Brun's hands he had barely noticed the injury he had sustained to his right knee, but it was there, and it was making itself known. His arms ached from swinging his saber and his lungs were beginning to burn.

Dodge, roll, duck, parry... Obi-Wan was slowly being forced into the back corner of the hanger. He could tell that that was where his assailants were trying to drive him, but he hadn't figured out what he was going to do about it yet. *"Better think of something fast Kenobi,"* he told himself. He was running out of space and cover. Fast.

Suddenly he found himself confronted with a large open space where a ship had been removed. Obi-Wan pressed his lips together tightly, but quickly eased up when he found out how much that hurt his swollen mouth.

*Dang! Dang, dang, dang!* Crossing that would leave him wide open to attack from above, and yet with the soldiers coming up quickly behind him he had no choice.

Sprinting out across the open area he ran as fast as he could, zigzagging to dodge the blaster bolts that rained down on him from above, scorching the flooring a few centimeters away from his boots.

He had almost made it to the shelter of the next ship when he felt his knee twist wrong under him as he put his weight on it. The knee held, and Obi-Wan faltered for only a moment, but it was a moment he could not afford. The momentary distraction cost him the time he needed to dodge or block one of the shots aimed at him from above. Obi-Wan felt the searing blast rake across his ribs, burning through his clothing and scorching his flesh.

Obi-Wan went down with a cry.

Qui-Gon's saber flashed so fast it left trails of light before Sheena's eyes. The soldiers had them pinned down in a clump of trees halfway between the hanger and the house. Qui-Gon defended Sheena and himself while trying to figure out a way to break out of the gridlock. He knew that Obi-Wan and the Administrator were in trouble and chafed every instant he was detained here. His right arm ached dully and he was constantly compensating for the motion he did not have.

*"Where are you Master?"* he heard desperation in Obi-Wan's voice. Yet despite whatever dire circumstances the Padawan was undoubtedly in, Qui-Gon was pleased to feel a certain amount of calm surety in his apprentice. Qui-Gon did not know what was happening, but he guessed that Obi-Wan was no longer letting his blindness hold him back. That was good.

A few moments later however, Qui-Gon felt a surprised jolt that traveled clear up his spine and a shock of intense pain.

*Obi-Wan!*

Sheena saw Qui-Gon stiffen visibly. "What, what is it?"

"Time to get to the hanger," Qui-Gon said in a clipped, concerned tone of voice, once more seeking a way to break away from this impasse. "I have a feeling that Obi-Wan and Administrator Owskar need our help."

Obi-Wan hit the ground hard and managed to roll beneath the ship. His side was aflame and the pain stole his already short breath, making him struggle for oxygen. For a moment he just lay on his back beneath the low belly of the ship, his head spinning unmercifully. Probing the injured area he found that the shot had not gone deep. The worst of it had probably missed him and he had only caught the edge of the bolt. He was fortunate actually. He had an incredibly nasty 3rd degree burn slashing across his left side from his chest, down his ribs to his low back, but that was all.

*"All,"* Obi-Wan thought sarcastically. It was definitely enough. On top of his other injuries and with his blindness, the pain was nearly incapacitating. He heard the sound of the soldiers' feet. They were coming. They would find him here and they would kill him. He had to move. He had to.

Gritting his teeth Obi-Wan managed to roll out from the other side of the ship. His side screamed at him as he scraped it against the hard floor. The inner side of his left arm was burned as well he realized with a wince as he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. It wasn't as bad an injury as his side, but it stung when he tried to use it. The shot must have passed right under his armpit. Obi-Wan shuddered. A little higher and it would have killed him; a little lower and it would have taken off his forearm.

Forcing himself back to the moment Obi-Wan dodged around the next two ships, seeking to regain the distance between himself and the soldiers which he had lost. Pain was threatening to cloud his perceptions again, and he nearly ran into the wall before he sensed it. The blind Jedi felt along it, but a quick inspection left no doubt. He had reached the back wall of the hanger. Going left led him straight to another wall, and going right would mean having to cross the entire open expanse of space that separated the right side of the hanger from the left side. In the shape he was now in, he was not about to try that again. The soldiers were closing in, and he was trapped. Obi-Wan leaned against the wall, trying to still his hammering heart. He had reached the end of his rope and found himself left dangling.

Obi-Wan could feel, as well as hear the rapid approach of the soldiers. They proceeded swiftly, but warily, not wanting to walk into any traps. It had not taken them long to realize that they must not underestimate their quarry.

Obi-Wan edged along the wall, feeling it with his left hand while still clutching his saber, un-ignited but ready, in his right. He only wished he could come up with something as devious as they expected him to.

The young Jedi set his jaw grimly. The only thing he could do was try to hold his ground. He assessed the situation calmly, but in his heart, he knew it would be a suicide stand. Perhaps he could hide himself in the shadows and surprise them. Perhaps. The snipers on the catwalks had fallen silent, maybe he could... his hand caught on something. The something turned out to be a ladder, running up the wall as far as he could reach, and farther. *What...?* Then it dawned on him. This was one of the accesses to the catwalks, that's why the snipers couldn't reach him, he must be standing directly under the beginning platform, blocking their aim.

Unable to go either right or left, forward or backward, Obi- Wan opted to go the only way he could. Up. Grabbing the rungs of the ladder, he climbed quickly. He had to make it up before the ground soldiers saw him or he was a sitting duck. His burned side and arm protested loudly, but he forced them to move even faster. He reached the top just as the soldiers reached the bottom.

*"Don't see me, don't see me,"* Obi-Wan more hoped than directed, swinging silently up onto the catwalk. His body was requiring too much of his strength for him to expend any trying to influence his attackers.

The soldiers seemed puzzled, momentarily unsure of where their quarry had gone. Using the moment of peace, Obi-Wan centered himself and reached out to see how close he was to the other soldiers on the catwalks. He thought there must be about four or five of them, but none in his immediate vicinity, they were all moving away from him, trying to circle around to a point where they could get a clear shot at the ground below. Obi-Wan wiped the perspiration out of his useless eyes and grinned grimly. *"Only I'm not down there anymore."*

Stretching his senses further, he found Verjl's ship. Good, the engines were almost ready, but where was Qui-Gon? He was just beginning to search for his Master, when something else grabbed his attention. The soldiers that were not pursuing him had concentrated their attention of Verjl's ship. Once they found that their hand weapons were not enough to make a dent in the ship's shielding they had set about finding more drastic measures. Now they had erected a small proton cannon on a swivel base and were firing it up to blast the Administrator's ship.

Crouching down low in an attempt to avoid detection, Obi-Wan made his way towards the front of the hangar once more. He had to stop that cannon.

The ship shuddered violently, throwing Verjl sideways in his seat. He channeled more power into the ship's shields, but he knew there was no way the little craft could take a sustained pounding like this for very long.

Obi-Wan crouched on the catwalk above the ship, assessing the situation. Six men were manning the cannon; the rest were setting up a second one. He would have to-

Obi-Wan threw himself out of the way just in time as a shot zinged by his head. His coordination was a trifle off and his quick dodge turned into a sprawl on the catwalk floor. The sniper stood over Obi-Wan and took aim to fire again, but Obi- Wan knocked the blaster out of his hands with a wave of the Force, sending it skittering to the floor far below them. In the same, quick move, Obi-Wan kicked the soldier's feet out from under him and sprang up. The soldier recovered himself quicker than one would have thought and attempted to tackle the teenager. Obi-Wan dodged, but as he backed away his foot caught on one of the loose planks that made up the catwalk floor. He stumbled and the soldier was on him. The force of the man's rush bore them both down to the gently swaying planks of the catwalk.

Obi-Wan landed hard with the soldier on top of him. The force of the landing knocked the air out of his lungs and his lightsaber out of his hand. He heard the sound of the handle roll across floor, bounce off a guardrail fall with a clatter to the floor below. *"Great, just great,"* was all Obi-Wan had a chance to think before his thoughts were consumed simply with trying to keep the man who had him pinned from crushing the life out of him. As they grappled and struggled, Obi-Wan heard the booming report of the cannon below them. He had to do something soon or it would be too late for Verjl.

He tried to get his knees up to kick his opponent off him, but the man was not about to let him do that. Half sitting, half kneeling on Obi-Wan's hips the fellow held Obi-Wan down quite firmly. The burly soldier both out-weighed and out-strengthed the fifteen-year-old, and although Obi-Wan was holding his own, in his weakened condition he couldn't get out from under the Driosnian. The man tried to get his hands around the blind Jedi's neck, but Obi-Wan caught his wrists and it turned into a wrestling match. Obi-Wan gathered his strength, preparing to use the Force to help him get the man off when the soldier's elbow caught him in the ribs, his injured ribs. Obi-Wan's eyes went wide as the pain of the blow to his badly burned side ripped through him. His grip on the soldier's wrists loosened.

Seeing the boy's reaction and realizing the cause, the man pulled his hands free and hammered down another blow against Obi-Wan's injured ribs.

Obi-Wan nearly screamed.

Acting out of desperation, Obi-Wan gave a hard roll to the right, tossing his opponent off balance. The soldier was shocked, he had thought the boy incapacitated. Using the surprise to his advantage Obi-Wan suddenly reversed direction and rolled left, pulling out of the soldier's grip all together. With a final effort Obi-Wan jumped to his feet. Pain was making his hands shake and he felt disoriented, but he did not let that rule him. Despite the pain, despite his blindness and despite the fear and hopelessness that wanted to take him, Obi-Wan remained focused, and it saved his life.

The soldier jumped up, coming after the boy. Obi-Wan was not sure he would make it out of another altercation with the big man. He didn't have to. Heeding the warning he felt tingle through his bones, the young Jedi ducked, just as a blaster shot from behind whizzed over his head. The blast passed harmlessly over him and caught the other soldier instead. Obi- Wan did not wait to let the other soldiers, who he could feel moving this way, converge on him, but jumped over the railing of the catwalk, using the Force to aid his fall.

A warning light flashed red on the control panel. The tiny craft's shields could not take much more. A few more blasts and they'd be gone all together. Suddenly, through the cockpit windshield, he saw Obi-Wan jump from the catwalk on the ceiling and land on the soldiers surrounding the cannon. The surprised soldiers went down with a cry.

Calling his fallen lightsaber to his hand, Obi-Wan slashed down, cutting the cannon in half before the startled soldiers could do anything about it. Another slash dispatched the second cannon that they had just finished setting up. Leaping backward in a series of quick flips, Obi-Wan backed towards the ship, parrying blaster bolts as he went.

Verjl's heart twisted within him as he realized that to let Obi-Wan in, he would have to lower the shields and open the hatch. Both were fatal options. He had watched men die before for a cause, but rarely any so brave, or so gifted.

There were nearly fifty soldiers on the scene now and more seemed to be arriving each moment. They had the ship surrounded, and had Obi-Wan boxed up against it. Obi-Wan's lightsaber was a blur of light as he battled to keep up with the intense barrage. He could feel himself weakening rapidly; he could not stand off against an entire army indefinitely.

The Padawan's head was spinning again as his backward retreat was finally halted when he ran into back end of the ship. With nowhere left to retreat to, Obi-Wan knew it was over. He drew in a deep breath, lifted his chin in defiance of the death that stared him in the face and prepared to buy Verjl as much time as he could.

Qui-Gon was running so fast that Sheena could not keep up with him. They had finally broken free of the soldiers. It was a good thing too, because Sheena had the feeling that Qui-Gon was going to do something desperate pretty soon if another way had not presented itself. Then, inexplicably, a good number of the soldiers just pulled out and left, enabling them to break through the ones that remained.

Qui-Gon's legs pumped furiously, eating up the distance. He was under no illusions about where the soldiers who had disengaged from the battle had gone. No doubt they had been called away to aide the rest of their force in dealing with the bigger threat in the hanger. Qui-Gon was grimly impressed with how many soldiers Brun, under the sanction of the Krallnorn, had had loyal to him.

Obi-Wan had stopped calling out to him for help, but the silence was even more unnerving to the Jedi Master. What had he sent the boy into? Had he given Obi-Wan more than he could handle? He wanted Obi-Wan to work around his blindness, to see that he could still be a whole person, but had he pushed him too fast, too soon? His own stiff, unusable left arm and the decreased mobility of his right drove home the point that there were actual, physical limitations that some injuries imposed. Had he brushed Obi-Wan's aside too easily? He thought of the words that had passed between them earlier. If anything happened to Obi-Wan now, he would never forgive himself.

Never.

The control panel flashed, telling Verjl that the engines were ready for lift-off. The Driosnian hesitated. It was not supposed to be this way. It was vital that someone survive this encounter and report to the Republic, but could he live with himself if he escaped, knowing he had left Kenobi and Jinn to die on a foreign world for a cause that was not their own? He didn't know where Jinn was so there was nothing he could do for him, but the boy had willingly chosen to risk his life by acting as a diversion to cover Verjl, could he really bring himself to leave the young Jedi behind? To face either certain death here, or worse, capture and slow death at the hands of Drojan torturers?

Obi-Wan heard the hum of the engines directly behind him and felt a rush of air against his back. He knew the ship was ready, why didn't Verjl take off? He couldn't hold the soldiers back forever. They were already setting up another cannon.

Suddenly the hatch on the side popped open. "Kenobi, run for it!" Verjl shouted urgently above the whine of the engines and the racket of the warfare.

If the hatch was open, that meant the shields were down. They had only moments before the Drojans that encircled the little craft tried to rush Verjl. The soldiers had Obi-Wan completely boxed in against the engine casing on the back of the ship, there was no easy way around them. He could do it, but it would take time. More time than they had. Obi-Wan knew he couldn't make it to the hatch before the Drojans that had the rest of the ship surrounded did.

"I can't! Take off!" Obi-Wan shouted back. He too realized that someone must escape this place, must tell the rest of the galaxy the truth about what was going on here.

Verjl saw the soldiers rush towards him as soon as the hatch was open, spitting fire. He blasted back at them, bringing the leaders of the charge down, but the second wave kept coming. He heard Obi-Wan yelling for him to take off and knew the boy was right. Just then someone whizzed over the Drojan's heads in a long, powerful leap. Qui-Gon landed in front of the hatch, saber up.

"Padawan!" he called out, parrying the surprised and momentarily disorganized soldiers' wild blasts.

Obi-Wan twisted to the right, searching for a gap in the living wall that fenced him in. He found none. He didn't have enough room to jump and the dizzy way his head was spinning made him unsure of the results if he tried. "There's no time Master, go!"

Qui-Gon would not accept that, but his entire attention had to be focused on defending the hatch, he could not reach Obi- Wan's position.

Sheena arrived at the hanger several paces behind Qui-Gon. She saw the fighting around the ship. Then she saw the soldiers bringing a cannon to bear directly on Qui-Gon and Verjl's position. Stooping to retrieve the weapon of one of the soldiers who had fallen in the entryway, during the first attack that Obi-Wan had fended off, she slipped quietly towards them. With everyone's attention on the Jedi and the ship, she was able to come up behind the two men by the cannon without being noticed. She was tempted to just blast them, but she could not. Even with a good reason, she could not bring herself to shoot anyone in the back. Switching the weapon to stun, she knocked them out cold instead.

A ground-shaking blast rattled the air. *"The cannon!"* Obi- Wan thought urgently. They were out of time. Why wouldn't Verjl and Qui-Gon just take off?! Then he realized that the blasts were not being aimed at them.

Qui-Gon looked around in surprise as the blast scattered the soldiers attacking him.

Sheena wheeled the cannon about to target the group that had Obi-Wan pinned down.

BLAM!

The shot blasted a smoking crater in the hanger floor, scattering Drojans left and right. The power of it knocked Obi-Wan back against the engines, but he recovered quicker than the soldiers and was sprinting around the side of the ship before the Drojans knew what hit them.

The soldiers were regrouping quickly. It would not take them long to figure out where those shots were coming from. "Time to go!" Qui-Gon called out; motioning Sheena in just as Obi-Wan reached them.

Jumping down off the aiming stand, Sheena made a dash for the ship. She was almost there when one of the fallen soldiers rolled over and took aim at her.

Obi-Wan could not see what was happening, but he felt it. "Sheena!" he screamed, knowing there was no way he or Qui-Gon could get to her in time.

A blast from behind them caught the soldier just as he fired, making the shot go wild and miss Sheena by a meter. Qui-Gon turned in time to see the smoke curl from Verjl's blaster. "Run Sheena! Run!" her former Master urged.

Run she did, not stopping until Verjl pulled her into the ship.

"Our turn Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as the remaining Drojans reorganized their attack. Leaping onto the partially extended ramp the two Jedi backed in quickly; blocking shots as they went until the hatch slammed shut.

Verjl brought the shields back up in an instant and with a whoosh that scattered what was left of their attackers the little craft took to the sky, heading for the stars and safety.

Obi-Wan steadied himself on the back of what he thought was one of the cabin chairs and started to collapse into it. Unfortunately, the projection he had grabbed stuck out further than the seats themselves and he missed. He ended up sitting down on the deck beside the chairs with a hard whump. Obi-Wan shook his head, momentarily bewildered about how he had gotten there.

It was a struggle, but Sheena was sensitive enough not to laugh at him. However, in the state he was in now, Obi-Wan probably would not have cared. He was too exhausted to be embarrassed, so he simply picked himself up and groped until he found the chair for sure this time before sinking into it.

The young Jedi's tired fingers fumbled slightly with the buckles as they all strapped in for the jump to hyperspace. He was bone weary and the mix of adrenaline and pain left his whole body shaking. The jolt that shook the ship as it entered hyperspace made him grit his teeth as it shook his sore body. Leaning back, the Padawan closed his eyes, breathing unsteadily. He almost couldn't believe they had made it. He had been ready to die back there, so many times, yet here they were. He felt Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder but did not open his eyes yet. It didn't matter whether they were closed or open anyway and he was so exhausted.

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's young body trembling with pain and fatigue under his hand. He was not surprised. Obi-Wan felt the warm waves of comfort and calm coming from his Master's touch and sank deeper into the chair as his tense body started to relax a little.

"I'm proud of you Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, gently undoing the now unnecessary restraint straps to check the nasty looking burn on his apprentice's side. "You did a Knight's job out there today. None of us would have made it away if you hadn't held them off as you did."

Obi-Wan's body felt like it was on fire and his side was nothing but sheer pain, but Qui-Gon's praise made all that seem inconsequential to him. He had done it. He had functioned as a Jedi despite his blindness. Making it through this proved to him that Qui-Gon was right. His so-called handicap did not make him a lesser person. He did not have to give up his dreams; he could still become a Knight. Obi-Wan smiled faintly despite the pain.

"I'm sorry you had to do it alone," Qui-Gon said softly as he unbuttoned what was left of Obi-Wan's shirt. He did not want to foster more tension like had been between them earlier.

Obi-Wan grimaced as Qui-Gon pulled the shirt off, sucking his breath in through his teeth. "I wasn't alone," Obi-Wan shook his head. "Even though you weren't there, even though I couldn't feel you and didn't know where you were, I wasn't alone, because I had the lesson's you've taught me in my head and the love you've shown me in my heart. I will never be alone." It took effort for Obi-Wan to speak, but he wanted Qui-Gon to know. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier Master. I was only thinking about me, and my own self-pity. You were right, I was holding myself back, I see that now." Obi-Wan tried to relax and be still as Qui-Gon applied burn-cream from the ship's emergency medi-pac to his side and arm. More extensive treatment would have to wait until they could get to a medical facility.

"You have done very well Padawan, I did not say what I did to be harsh," Qui-Gon held his hand on Obi-Wan's side, above the burn, sending healing messages to the injured area.

"I know," Obi-Wan nodded. "You were right." His words were starting to slur as his injuries and exhaustion caught up with him. He felt as if he were sinking into a soft, feathery bed as he slipped off into the sleep-like healing trance Qui-Gon was helping send him into.

"That's right," Qui-Gon ran a hand over Obi-Wan's slightly out-grown Padawan haircut. "Rest now."

Sheena watched all that passed between master and apprentice in silence, which was unusual for her. The closeness that Obi- Wan and Qui-Gon shared made her heart ache fiercely because it reminded her of all those whom she had been close to, of all those whom she had lost.

Qui-Gon draped a blanket over Obi-Wan's sleeping form, tucking it around his chin to keep the chill of space away from his Padawan's weakened body. When he turned around, he found that Sheena was curled up in her chair, hugging her knees and crying soundlessly.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern, sitting down beside her.

"No," she whispered between sobs, shaking her head. "I thought I had forgotten. Forgotten all those I loved and lost. My parents, my brother..." she scrubbed her eyes futilely. "But seeing you and Obi together brought it all back to me. I am empty Mr. Jinn. I have a hole inside me that nothing can fill."

Qui-Gon wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, letting her lean on him and cry against his chest. "You never forget Sheena," he said gently. "But you do heal. Obi-Wan and I have both lost people very dear to us and one never forgets, but the pain becomes less. It takes time, but eventually, if you let it, your heart will mend," he comforted, patting her shoulder softly with his big, strong hand. "Fill their place in your life with your memories of them, hold them in your heart, but let the pain drain away. No one can replace the ones you've lost, but don't let that stop you from forming new relationships. I did for a long time, and it almost cost me Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon admitted softly.

"You?" Sheena wiped her eyes. "But you're a Jedi, you and Obi- Wan, you're, you're invincible!"

Qui-Gon smiled in amusement at the young woman's declaration. "Being Jedi doesn't make us perfect Sheena, or mean that we don't struggle with the same things that everyone else does." He shook his head. "I was deeply hurt by the loss and betrayal of someone I was very close to. As a result, I would not give my heart away to anyone again. Even after I took Obi-Wan as my Padawan, I refused to really trust him," it no longer hurt Qui-Gon to remember that time, because it was in the past, and all was right between he and his apprentice now. "That caused many problems and nearly forced us apart for good," Qui-Gon paused. "I'm telling you this Sheena, because I don't want you to make the same mistake. I nearly missed the relationship I now have with Obi-Wan, because I was still hurting from a previous one," Qui-Gon tipped the Inui woman's chin up on the crook of his finger. "Don't be afraid to let yourself care again. You'll never heal if you don't." Qui-Gon spoke from experience, and that made his words carry much more weight with Sheena.

Sheena nodded slowly. She understood.

Verjl entered from the cockpit. He saw Sheena all balled up in Qui-Gon's arms and looked worried. "Are you all right Sheena?" he asked, taking her hand. "You weren't hurt were you?"

"No, Master, I'm all right," Sheena shook her head shyly.

"You are not my slave anymore," Verjl said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Please, call me Verjl."

Sheena nodded, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Verjl," she said softly.

Qui-Gon noted the rise in Sheena's body temperature and the way she acted and he guessed that she was already well on her way to forming new relationships. He noticed that Verjl seemed to have the same reaction to her. Qui-Gon slid his arm off of Sheena's shoulders. "I must contact the Jedi Council and inform them of what has happened. It may take a while. In the meantime I think perhaps a cup of something warm would do you both good. I believe I saw the supplies for some when I retrieved the medical supplies for Obi-Wan," he said, managing to keep his smile faint.

"Oh, yes," Sheena said, rising. "I'll fix something."

Qui-Gon left for the cockpit with an amused grin pulling at his dignified mouth. Sheena would heal quickly.

Obi-Wan lay on the table, dressed in the long, white tunic of one who was in the care of the Temple Healers. The marks of the abuse he had suffered and the burn from the blaster shot were gone as if they had never been. Only the thin white bandage that covered his eyes served as a reminder that anything had happened to him at all.

"How did it go?" Qui-Gon asked, trepidacious despite himself.

"The minor injuries were a small thing to treat," the Healer informed him. "However, his eyes..."

Qui-Gon's stomached tightened. "Yes?"

The Healer sighed. "It's like we told you before we preformed the procedure on him. He's got a fifty-fifty chance of being able to see again. We won't know for sure which way it will be until he wakes up."

Qui-Gon sat by Obi-Wan's bedside, struggling with conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted Obi-Wan to hurry and wake up so that the uncertainty would be over, but another part of him wanted to postpone the moment as long as possible, because at least in not knowing there was hope...

Obi-Wan had proven himself more than capable even without his eyes, but Qui-Gon could not help hoping for a cure. Obi-Wan was so young. Too young to go through life without ever being able to see the beauty of an alien sunrise or enjoy a quiet moment watching the wind make incandescent ripples through the violet saw grass.

Qui-Gon forced himself to think of something else. He thought of Sheena and Verjl. Verjl had been arrested the moment their ship put down on Coruscant. As soon as they had left Driosnia, the Krallnorn had immediately issued an intergalactic warrant for his arrest, citing a host of charges, which Qui-Gon knew were entirely bogus.

Verjl was not surprised and went with them quietly, but he did claim political asylum, preventing his deportation back to Driosnia. An impartial hearing was to be held sometime next week to look into the allegations, both the ones against Verjl, and the ones that the ex-Administrator made against the Drojan party.

Qui-Gon knew that with he and Obi-Wan, as well as Sheena, on the witness stand, Verjl had nothing to worry about. Sheena was currently staying in the Temple's guest housing as a guest of the Jedi. She went every day to visit Verjl at the detention center and Qui-Gon admitted to finding their quickly growing relationship as amusing as it was touching.

Obi-Wan stirred. He was waking up.

Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his seat; unconsciously holding his breath as Obi-Wan groggily put his hand to his bandaged eyes.

Obi-Wan came slowly out of the effects of the anesthesia. He opened his eyes and found everything dark. Somehow, he felt as if he should be disappointed, but he was not. He had accepted whatever happened to him back on the ship after escaping from Driosnia. If he were meant to be blind, then he could accept that. It was a limitation, but not a block, and just like other limitations, it was one that he knew, with Qui-Gon's help, he could learn to move beyond.

Putting his hands to his face, his fingers brushed across the bandage over his eyes. A cool hand moved his hands away from his face, but it was not Qui-Gon's hand.

"Master?" he asked groggily.

"I'm here Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hand in his. The Healer gently loosened the bandage and pulled it off. The sudden brilliance of the room lights after having been so long in darkness made Obi-Wan start and press his watering eyes closed in shock, his hands once more flying to his face to shut out the blinding rush of light.

Qui-Gon rose quickly, bending over his apprentice in deep concern. "Obi-Wan, are you all right?"

Obi-Wan did not answer at once, but pulled his hands away from his face slowly, blinking uncertainly like a baby Ooshka opening it's eyes for the first time. The first thing he saw was blurry shapes and twists of color and it seemed to the young Jedi that he had never seen anything so beautiful as those wavery splotches of brilliance. He blinked harder to clear the tears out of his eyes, still squinting against the unaccustomed light. Slowly the fuzzy shapes resolved themselves into distinct images and Obi-Wan saw his Master above him, looking down into his face with so much concern it would have made the boy's heart ache, if he had not already felt so insatiably happy.

Qui-Gon's worry turned to joy as a huge smile spread across Obi-Wan's face and for the first time in almost a month the Padawan's eyes focused on something, locking onto Qui-Gon's in an expression of limitless delight.

"I can see," Obi-Wan whispered, almost not believing it. "Master, it worked, I can see again!" he repeated, louder this time, sitting bolt upright in his excitement. The world wavered before him again, but this time, it was tears of gladness that obscured the Padawan's vision.

Qui-Gon gathered the boy into his arms for a long hug as tears of relief and happiness slid silently down Obi-Wan's cheeks. "I can see," Obi-Wan repeated softly once more, as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world.

The depth of Obi-Wan's joy and his own relief and delight washed over Qui-Gon like a wave and he hid his face behind Obi-Wan's shoulder so that no one would see that he too was crying. "I'm glad Padawan, so glad," was all Qui-Gon could say, but it was more than adequate.

The hearing was held on a beautiful day when even a city planet like Coruscant looked bright and cheerful. The proceedings went smoothly and the all charges against Verjl Owskar, former Administrator of Driosnia, were dismissed. Both the Krallnorn's fabricated ones and any Verjl could have been implicated in due to his involvement in the Drojan party as the case against their bloody regime was opened.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan found a moment to speak with Verjl and Sheena after the proceedings were over, they had not seen Verjl since landing and had seen little enough of Sheena as she always seemed to be at the detention center.

"I appreciated your fine testimony in my behalf," Verjl greeted with a smile as the two Jedi approached. "It's good to see you again Jinn, Kenobi," he shook their hands.

"And you Mr. Owskar, it is very good to see you sir," Obi- Wan said with a large smile, at last able to put a face to Verjl's voice.

Verjl smiled, noting with approval the way the boy could now meet and hold his eyes. "Yes, Obi-Wan," Verjl nodded. "Sheena told me the good news. I am glad for your healing. The Senate has agreed to step into the affairs of Driosnia, so perhaps it will soon be over and my planet too, can begin to heal."

"I do hope so Mr. Owskar," Obi-Wan said earnestly.

"Where will you go now?" Qui-Gon inquired. "Now that you are cleared and free?"

Verjl wrapped an arm around Sheena's shoulders in a fond embrace. "Before I tell you that, I suppose I should tell you our good news," his dark eyes sparkled, giving away the secret before he spoke. "Sheena and I are going to be married."

"Congratulations!" Qui-Gon smiled warmly, and Obi-Wan added his assent.

"We will be staying on Coruscant for the time being, the Senate thinks it may yet require my assistance in this whole process and it is Sheena's and my deepest wish to be able to take part in the rebuilding of our beloved home-world when this whole, wretched business is over with. And you? You will both return to your normal lives?"

"Whatever they may be when you're not being shot at, burned, blinded, captured, tossed in prison camps and made slaves that is," Sheena added with a devilish smile.

"Is there anything else we do Master?" Obi-Wan asked, turning to Qui-Gon with a barely concealed smile. "For not being supposed to seek adventure, we certainly seem to have more than our share."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow in dry amusement.

Sheena laughed. "Well Obi-Wan, I hope we shall meet again one day. Maybe we'll get together and clean some floors, or better yet, do some midnight fuel-tank stowing!"

Obi-Wan grimaced dubiously. "Umm, let's skip that, okay?"

"Okay," Sheena smiled. "But I do hope that I'll see you again, both of you," she said, seriously this time.

"That would please us as well Sheena, or should I say, Mrs. Owskar." Qui-Gon smiled gently at her, glad to see the light of happiness in her face. Beneath the depths of her copper eyes he could see the memories, clear and strangely bittersweet. She had not forgotten, but she was indeed healing.

Verjl glanced at his wrist chronometer. "We have to go, our shuttle departs shortly," he said regretfully.

"All right, but before we do," Sheena left his side long enough to make her way over to Obi-Wan. She smiled impishly down at the young Jedi. Obi-Wan smiled back, but felt curiously shy. It was still slightly strange to see Sheena, as well as hear her. "Obi-Wan, aren't you going to kiss the bride?" the Inui's lively copper eyes danced at the sight of the color that spread across the boy's cheeks.

Qui-Gon watched his Padawan stall shyly, and battled to keep down the smile that threatened to breach his calm features.

Not wishing to offend his friend, Obi-Wan leaned up to give the older woman a quick peck on the cheek. Sheena caught his chin in the crook of her finger at the last moment. Grinning devilishly she turned his head so he caught her lips instead. Obi-Wan was both startled and embarrassed, his face flushing still more hotly than before.

Sheena let him go with a good-natured laugh and Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. He liked Sheena, but he may never get used to her.

Verjl raised an eyebrow and coughed in mock consternation. "Just who is getting married here?"

"You sir!" Obi-Wan said, a little too quickly.

"You don't have to sound that happy about it Obi-Wan," Sheena teased.

It took all of Qui-Gon's control to keep from chuckling aloud at the look on Obi-Wan's face. "I think," he said when it was once more safe to speak, "That you had better hurry if you are going to catch your shuttle."

"Indeed," Verjl agreed, glancing once more at the time. "Goodbye my friends, until we meet again!"

"Until we meet again!" Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan echoed as the soon- to-be newlyweds hurried off, arm in arm. Like the two Jedi they parted from, they were headed for the future, side by side.

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