Archive: Master_Apprentice, OKEB, QJEB, SWA-L, Jedi Hurtaholics and The Nesting Place (Anyone else just ask :-)
Archive Date: February 12, 2001
Category: angst (no deaths), h/c
Disclaimer: The SW universe, the concept of Jedi, and 'The Boys' still belong to Mr Lucas.
Feedback: Please! :-).........I crave it!
Notes: This is a much darker story than my previous offerings. If scenes of rape and torture offend or upset you - then do not read this.
Key: italics indicates someone's personal thoughts. // indicates telepathy.
My heartfelt thanks to my beta readers Ana and Kelly. Also this story would never have been written without my co-conspirators - Jo, Kathy and Q *g*
Thanks also to my brother - who's insight was much appreciated and very helpful :-)
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Series: This is the next story in my unnamed series - The others are (in order) The Truth, Change, and Need. They can be found at the archives mentioned above, or just email me and I'll happily send them to you :-). The sequel to this story should be finished in a few weeks.
Spoilers: Some references to events in TPM
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan struggle to survive aboard the scavenger's ship.
Warnings: AU, rape - omc/O, torture

Chapter I

Obi-Wan gazed around him despairingly, his fingers touching the cool metal circlet around his neck. A smooth, slender band of dulled silver, deceptively fragile the delicate design belayed its true purpose. A slave collar - outlawed in the Republic - designed to suppress the mental abilities of alien races it completely isolated Obi-Wan from the Force. Trapped in a terrifying vacuum, he couldn't feel anything. Even the Mindus had allowed him to sense something of the Force - sick, weak or drugged, there had never been this vast empty void.

Blind panic clawed at him, an icy coldness seeping into every limb. Obi-Wan struggled to control his fear, clinging desperately to the faint trace of his Master's powerful presence. Somehow their Bond link persisted - despite the control collar - anchoring him; the aching familiarity all that held him back from plunging into mindless terror. However all his attempts to reach his Master had met with silence. Qui-Gon was alive, and close by, but 'something' was very wrong. Could his captor have spoken the truth? Had Qui-Gon forgotten him? The thought was too painful to bear, and Obi-Wan hastily pushed it aside.

He stood shakily, still weak and dizzy from the duel effects of the Mindus and the stun gun. Drawing deep, calming breaths Obi-Wan moved forward slowly; his joints felt stiff, his limbs cumbersome. There is no fear there is only the Force. Obi-Wan allowed Master Yoda's voice to drown out the rising tide of panic. He berated himself bitterly, he would be of little use to Qui-Gon, or himself if he became a gibbering wreck. Somewhat calmer, and more controlled, Obi-Wan began a methodical search of his surroundings, carefully cataloguing each item in his mind.

Obi-Wan assumed that he was in his captor's personal quarters, a fairly standard sized cabin completely dominated by a large bed. The only other furniture was a chair in the corner. However the room was far from empty. His eyes wandered along shelves overflowing with books from various cultures - histories, art, poetry, prose. Obi-Wan frowned as he recognized several more obscure texts relating to philosophy and thought. Other smaller items were buried away between tomes - carved trinkets, plain jewellery - much of it silver; he frowned as he discovered a thread of meditation beads.

Confused and troubled, Obi-Wan stepped back from the books and looked around the rest of the room. The bed and the chair were both draped in rich cloths - blues, purples and deep emerald greens. He swallowed hard as his eyes took in the large mirrors fastened above and to the side of the bed.

Obi-Wan had purposely avoided the mirror on the wall, but now he was reluctantly drawn to it. Teeth worrying his lower lip, he studied his reflection impassively. The Mindus had not been kind to him; his skin was pale, almost white - stretched tight across bones which seemed even more pronounced than before. It gave his face an oddly feline cast - eyes glittering green against the milky pallor. Obi-Wan grimaced, well aware of how he looked....haunted, feral....vulnerable. He shivered, and turned away.

Knowing it was futile he studied the door-lock mechanism, but without tools or the Force it was clear he had no hope of releasing it. Frustrated he turned back to face the room - and frowned - there was another door.

Cursing himself for not noticing it earlier, Obi-Wan scrambled across the bed to reach it. The door was concealed behind some shelving - designed to blend in with the rest of the interior. Now, upon closer examination, Obi-Wan realised that the books upon this particular bay were false. He studied the titles carefully; he was half way along when he stopped - his mouth twisting into a dreadful parody of a grin. 'A treatise on hidden cultures' Obi-Wan lifted the book out carefully, as he did so the rest of the books and shelving 'collapsed', the door hissed slightly, and then slid sideways. However his triumph was short lived....the door merely concealed a washroom.

With a frustrated cry Obi-Wan threw the book across the room, //Qui- Gon....Master please answer me!// He pushed his emotions along their link, desperate for any response...but only the empty echo of his own grief came back to him. Obi-Wan sank gracelessly to the floor, burying his face in his hands. Lost in his despair Obi-Wan didn't hear the door open and he jumped as someone dropped something onto the bed.

It was his captor, the man who had called himself Rigel.

Obi-Wan eyed the scavenger uneasily, hurriedly wiping away all traces of his tears. From his position on the floor Rigel appeared even larger than on their first encounter. Easily a head taller than Qui- Gon, and more broadly built, the Scavenger dwarfed Obi-Wan, making him feel like a child in comparison. Short, cropped dark hair, a neat beard shot through with silver. A trail of small silver hoops ran down one ear, two more were threaded through a heavy black brow - the one above the pale blue eye; the other eye scarred and sightless. Plain simple clothing - in similar shades of deep blue to those covering the bed. Rigel's arms were bare, and clearly indicated that none of the huge man's bulk came from fat.

The scavenger grinned savagely, staring down at Obi-Wan - who forced himself to meet the one-eyed gaze."You are filthy little one. Wash and put these on." The pirate waved a hand toward the clothes on the bed, before dropping heavily into the chair behind him."There is a shower unit through that door." Rigel smiled slyly, "As you have already discovered, my clever little one."

His expression guarded, Obi-Wan glanced at the fresh clothing. True his tunic was filthy - stained with blood, sweat and grime - but he balked at the thought of wearing anything provided by this man. Rigel seemed to read his thoughts, and a pale blue eye narrowed in warning. "Do not try my patience too soon little one."

Without the Force it was hard to gauge the depth of the scavenger's displeasure, and Obi-Wan was painfully aware that Qui-Gon's life undoubtedly rested upon his ability to please this man. Trying to control the trembling in his limbs he stood, gathering up the clothing. However, as he turned toward the shower room, Rigel leaned forward and grabbed his arm. "No." Obi-Wan froze, Rigel released him and sat back. "You will undress here." A protest died silently upon Obi-Wan's lips. Shaking, he dropped the clothing back onto the bed, and began to remove his tunic.

Clumsily, his fingers hampered by layers of fraying gauze, Obi-Wan slipped off his top. The room was warm, but he was unable to control the shivers which wracked his frame - only too conscious of Rigel's steady, unblinking gaze. He tried to recite a mediation drill in his head, but his mind was cloudy and confused. Bending to remove his boots his sight dimmed and he swayed dizzily.

Obi-Wan was only vaguely aware of a strong hand encircling his arm. Spots swam before his eyes....When they cleared he realised he was being held upright by the scavenger's powerful hands. The sensation of the man's warm skin against his own chilled flesh was almost as startling as the look of concern in that one pale blue eye. Suddenly panicked he tried to pull away.

"Easy little one." The scavenger's voice was a soft rumble. Obi-Wan could feel the man's breath Too close...too close Almost frantically he tried to wriggle free, but the huge hands were unbreakable bands around his arms. "Steady, steady." Obi-Wan felt himself being pulled back toward the bed, and a wave of mindless terror rushed over him.

"No!" Obi-Wan thrashed madly, desperate to break free, but still weak from his ordeal exhaustion quickly overcame his efforts, and he hung limply from the scavenger's grip. Rigel lifted his pliant body up onto the bed, and then released him.

Immediately Obi-Wan tried to scramble away, he heard Rigel laugh and felt powerful fingers grasp his ankle and drag him unceremoniously back. Obi-Wan lay panting, both arms pinned above his head by one large hand; Rigel lay beside him face alight with pleasure. As the scavenger trailed his free hand down Obi-Wan's bare torso, the youth bit his lip to hold back a whimper.

"Such fire you have little one!" Rigel's expression shifted as he continued to lazily stroke Obi-Wan's smooth skin."So lovely....so very lovely." Just as suddenly the scavenger's face cleared. The hand ceased its slow caresses, and caught hold of Obi-Wan's jaw. Staring at Obi-Wan, Rigel looked thoughtful. "You are sick?" Obi-Wan stared back, stubbornly silent. He had managed to master his fear again, and was determined not to show just how much this man's closeness disturbed him.

Rigel frowned in annoyance, his hold on Obi-Wan's jaw tightened cruelly. "I will ask once more. Are you sick?" The scavenger's voice was a deadly whisper, and Obi-Wan stiffened despite his attempt to hide his fear.

"No." His denial came out as a dry rasp.

Rigel looked unconvinced. "You have been unwell." It was a statement not a question, and Obi-Wan didn't bother to reply. "I will have Nezan look at you."

"No!" Obi-Wan didn't know who Nezan was, but he didn't want anyone examining him. He suddenly felt very tired. He closed his eyes, "P..please, no," a soft broken whisper, but Obi-Wan no longer cared.

There was silence, and then his hands were released. Confused Obi-Wan opened his eyes, blinking groggily.

Rigel had sat up and was staring at him, the scavenger's expression unreadable. Then, as Obi-Wan watched, the huge man knelt and gently removed Obi-Wan's boots. Standing the scavenger extended a hand to Obi-Wan. The youth hesitated, then - ignoring the outstretched fingers - stood unaided. Obi-Wan risked a quick glance at his captor, but Rigel looked more amused than annoyed. However Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath as the scavenger stepped closer and with one swift gesture undid the tie at his waist.

Warm calloused fingers circled his hips. Obi-Wan's breath hitched as the thumbs hooked into his leggings. Never once taking his eyes away from Obi-Wan's, Rigel slid them down in one swift movement, dropping to a crouch as he did so. Obi-Wan wavered as he felt the scavenger's warm breath against his groin. Still unsteady, he instinctively touched the man's shoulders for support as he stepped out of the last of his clothing. Though the instant he realised what he had done he pulled his fingers back as though scalded.

Rigel stood up, Obi-Wan forced himself to stand straight - determined to show no shame in the face of his own nakedness. His captor smiled, almost indulgently - reaching for Obi-Wan's right hand. The youth flinched away, and then reluctantly allowed Rigel to take it.

Carefully the scavenger unwound the gauze bandaging, his large fingers surprisingly gentle. The skin beneath was freshly pink - Force healed, and free from burns or scarring. One black brow arched a little, as Rigel examined it. Then the scavenger lowered Obi-Wan's right hand, and repeated the process with the youth's left.

Rigel rubbed his thumb across the fleshy part of Obi-Wan's bared palm. Obi-Wan shivered as the sensitive new skin responded to the stimulus. Rigel smiled and released him. "Wash little one." Standing to the side the scavenger swept his arm out in a dramatic flourish toward the wash room. "Go." Obi-Wan stumbled forward a little, hesitated and then squaring his shoulders marched forward. Struggling to close his ears to the sound of Rigel's mocking laughter.

There was no way to close the door, and anyway Obi-Wan was quite certain it would not be permitted. Stepping into the shower stall he tried to ignore the sight of Rigel slouched against the door-frame. Seizing a wash rag and the bar of soap he stabbed at the controls viciously, and turned his face toward the spray as the hot water gushed over his body. He didn't hear Rigel's sudden gasp, or the way the scavenger shifted uncomfortably before retreating back to the bed.

Chapter II

Rigel sat, one pale blue orb fixed intently upon the lissom form beneath the hot spray; his throat tightening as he tracked the soapy rivulets trickling down sleek honey-gold skin. The youth turned slightly, unwittingly displaying a well toned torso - flushed pink nipples standing proud against the smooth curve of pectoral muscles. Staring raptly at the taut, flat stomach, the scavenger stifled a moan; clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.

From the moment the youth had been carried aboard the Black Narcissus, Rigel had ached to possess him. A longing which became an intense, unbearable craving when the boy awoke. Those eyes...He had never seen such eyes Pure...clear...untainted. Burning with a radiance which had branded itself into his every fantasy.

Rigel's tastes usually ran to much younger flesh, but there was an indefinable aura about this young man, not innocence exactly - more an 'untouchable' quality - which was impossible to resist. This was no cringing slave or sluttish drab; the youth's husky voice held cultured tones.

Rigel avoided the Republic, the furthest he ever strayed into their territory was Tatooine to do business with the Hutts. However stories of the Jedi had travelled far beyond the outer rim - mystical warriors with sorcerers powers. Superstitions and folklore, but enough to inspire fear and mistrust amongst Rigel's crew. Once the lightsabers had been discovered most were for killing the Jedi.

Rigel hadn't bothered to hide his contempt -Superstitious fools He knew of the Jedi Order, and their precious Code. He knew that severed from the Force these were just men, as helpless and powerless as any other slave.

The sight of the Padawan braid had excited him A Jedi apprentice. Defiling such legendary 'incorruptible' flesh promised to satisfy his darkest, most intense fantasies.

He exhaled deeply - Patience..patience... - If he could bend that spirit without breaking it, temper the boy's will to his own...Oh what pleasure then...

It would be an easy task to drug the young man into submission, but to deaden those incredible eyes? - No...Never!. Rigel's thoughts turned to the older Jedi - a 'bargaining piece' perhaps? Another heartbeat and the scavenger's expression turned cold again. What if the youth still failed to yield? A moments desperation....then Rigel's mouth twisted into a sly smile, his imagination stirring - Well then he would simply have to take the youth by force. After all, there were still pleasures to be had from such.

Suddenly the youth swayed, leaning into the tiles unsteadily. Rigel was on his feet in an instant, crossing the space between them in three swift strides. Reaching into the shower stall he turned off the water just as the youth collapsed against him. Water slick skin slipped through his fingers, as the youth slid bonelessly to the floor. Rigel went down with him, cushioning the young man's naked body against his own.

They lay in a sprawl of tangled limbs. Rigel swallowed hard - scarcely conscious of the water seeping into his clothing - feeling only the warm wet body cradled in his arms. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the sweet, clean scent of young skin. Carefully, Rigel eased his burden into a more secure hold, and then stood carefully. The youth murmured softly, but remained quiescent in his arms.

Rigel walked forward slowly, and gently lay the youth upon the bed. "Wha...Qui-Gon?" The softly whispered confusion cut into Rigel like a knife. Long golden lashes fluttered open, and the scavenger felt a sharp stab of jealousy - gazing into pellucid eyes painted with fearful recognition.

The young man quickly masked his fear, but clearly conscious of his nudity tried to squirm away. Rigel stayed the youth easily - curling long fingers around the curve of one bare shoulder. The scavenger dug his nails deeply into the pale flesh until the youth hissed sharply. Rigel smiled, and loosened his hold; fingers caressing the marks left in the soft, smooth skin. "You fainted little one."

The youth raised his chin defiantly "Don't call me that!"

Rigel's smile vanished, his hand swiftly encircling the slender throat. The young man flinched as Rigel tightened his hold, squeezing oh...so slowly, enjoying the spiralling distress in those incredible gray-green eyes. Lowering his head Rigel let his lips brush against the young man's forehead; his tongue flickering out to taste the drops of water dripping from soft red-gold spikes.

The young man gave a dull moan.

Rigel rubbed his cheek against the damp skin, and felt the body beneath him tremble slightly. Smiling, Rigel removed his hand and drew back a little until his face was level with the youth's. "What is your name then little one?" Rigel lowered his head again, his lips almost touching the trembling boy's - tasting the sweetness of his breath. "Tell me." A soft whispered caress. Rigel's smile widened as he the young man's breath hitched.

"O..Obi...Wan."

"Obi-Wan." Rigel let the name slide over his tongue. "Oh yess. It suits you well little one....My Obi-Wan," Rigel's voice grew cold, "and you are mine now. You would do well to remember that."

Reluctantly Rigel sat back. "I will have Nezan look at you later, but first we will eat. Now can you dress yourself?" his gaze slid lasciviously over Obi-Wan's naked form. "Or shall I help you?"

"I...I can do it." The voice was shaky, but there was no mistaking the bitter hostility behind the words.

Rigel stood, handing the youth a sleeveless tunic top and simple trousers. Cut from a shimmering emerald green cloth, the outfit moulded itself perfectly to the young man's body.

"Exquisite." Rigel let his eyes linger a moment longer, before reaching for the young man's hand. There was a dangerous pause as Obi-Wan stared at him - and then slowly, defiantly - placed his arms behind his back. Rigel's mouth thinned, tightening in displeasure. He grabbed one arm roughly, dragging the youth off his feet. "Do not provoke me little one." Breathing heavily, Rigel set the youth down again. Obi-Wan had paled, skin taking on a sickly greyish tinge. Frowning, Rigel took hold of the young man's hand, capturing the icy fingers within his own. "Come. We will eat." The youth didn't resist as Rigel gently tugged him forward.

Chapter III

Dizzy and cold - despite the oppressive heat, Obi-Wan stumbled forwards; struggling to keep pace as Rigel half-dragged him through the narrow twisting passageway. Shrill spikes of pain pierced his skull, threatening to send him crashing back into the darkness. Terrified slaves fled as they approached, scuttling like rats into the shadows. Those with nowhere to run simply fell to their knees - faces pressed against the grimy metal walkway.

Obi-Wan clung desperately to the faint trace of his Master's presence, almost crushed beneath the weight of his despair. He was under no illusions as to what the scavenger wanted from him - still sickened by the recollection of that cold gaze sliding over his naked body. He shuddered, fighting back a wave of revulsion. //Qui-Gon...Please Master, answer me!//

Finally they stopped. A door slid open, sounds spilling out into the silent passageway - raucous laughter, shouts, curses; the smell of stale, unwashed bodies and cheap ale. Rigel dragged him through the doorway. The room inside was dark, dingy; Obi-Wan's bare feet slipped and stuck in the pools of spilt ale. The ship's largely human crew were seated around a long table, being served by a handful of frightened slaves; who were pushed or punched whenever they strayed within reach.

Sinking into a seat at the head of the table, Rigel pulled Obi-Wan roughly onto his lap; forcing the youth to sprawl awkwardly across the scavenger's legs. Obi-Wan was conscious of the stares - some curious, some openly hostile. Only the slaves paid him no attention, they had long since learnt to ignore whatever went on around them. One scurried forward, head bowed, setting a plate of food down before the scavenger. As Rigel reached for it Obi-Wan attempted to twist away but one huge arm encircled his waist, drawing him back. "Be still little one," Rigel admonished gently. Glaring, Obi-Wan sank back into the scavenger's embrace.

Despite the hollow ache in his belly, Obi-Wan struggled not to choke on the morsels Rigel passed to him. The scavenger held Obi-Wan's arms, forcing the youth to take the food from his fingers. Rigel trembled with pleasure each time the young man's lips touched his skin. Obi-Wan attempted to snatch at the food with his teeth, but Rigel held it firmly - making him coax it from the scavenger's grasp. Sickened Obi-Wan fought back the nausea which swept over him - pushing himself to accept each hateful mouthful.

The thin cloth clinging to his damp skin was no barrier, and Obi-Wan shivered, painfully aware of the scavenger's powerful body moving against his own; the man's warmth seeping into his own chilled flesh.

Eventually the plate was cleared, and Rigel held a flagon of ale up to Obi-Wan's lips. The bitter brew sat uneasily in his stomach, and the young Jedi coughed, spluttering - the ale trickling down his chin. Laughing, Rigel released Obi-Wan's arms. Seizing the Padawan braid the scavenger pulled Obi-Wan close and, to the young man's disgust, began to lick the ale off his face. Obi-Wan squirmed uselessly as the hot tongue trailed across his skin, sucking at his throat; teeth nipping the delicate flesh. Obi-Wan stiffened in shock as Rigel suddenly bit down hard - crying out in pain as the scavenger's teeth pierced his skin. Writhing he tried to pull away, but serpent-like Rigel coiled around him.

The sharp pain eased to a dull throbbing ache as Rigel drew back to admire the wound he had inflicted upon Obi-Wan's pale throat. The young man shivered, unable to suppress a soft - "No...please no..", as Rigel leaned in once more; but even as he tensed ready for the pain, Obi-Wan felt the scavenger's lips gently kiss the bloody mark - before suckling gently on the warm red rivulets tricking down his neck.

Too dazed to move, Obi-Wan sat limp and unresisting as Rigel continued to suck greedily upon his throat. New pain rippled outwards as the scavenger worried the broken skin. Obi-Wan moaned weakly. The scavenger lifted his head, one pale blue orb shining with pleasure. "Oh my little one..." Rigel's voice was low and soft, as intimate as any lover's. "So sweet my little one. So very sweet." Obi-Wan swallowed hard - seeing his own blood staining the scavenger's teeth. He sagged with relief when Rigel looked away.

The scavenger motioned to one of his men, who rose from the table and disappeared through the doorway. Still stunned Obi-Wan didn't notice the exchange; however he felt the shift in the atmosphere when the man returned. The crew man had brought back two slaves, both heavily shackled with chains and manacles. One was a Garian - tall slender, whipcord strong, blue skin glistening with dirt and sweat. The other was......Qui-Gon.

//Master!// Near giddy with relief, Obi-Wan unconsciously reached for his Bond mate; almost sliding off Rigel's lap as he strained against the scavenger's embrace. In that moment nothing else existed for Obi- Wan. Eagerly he drank in the sight of his beloved, standing with quiet dignity amidst the jeering, shouting crew. The young man was blithely unaware of Rigel's sudden dark look. Frantically Obi-Wan searched the familiar form; feeling his stomach knot as he took in the marks of violence marring his lover's body. Angry purple-black bruises stained Qui-Gon's throat - the slave collar glinting cruelly against the abused flesh. Fresh cuts, the deepest still oozing blood, decorated one cheek

Frustrated by Qui-Gon's apparent refusal to meet his gaze, Obi-Wan called out again - //Qui-Gon?// but only empty silence greeted his cry. Increasingly bewildered, Obi-Wan found himself fighting the unfamiliar sensation of being in his Master's presence - without actually being able to feel the older man. Without the Force Obi- Wan could only detect his Master through the faint, flickering existence of their Bond link. Master please

It almost seemed that Qui-Gon had heard his silent plea, as slowly the Jedi's dark blue gaze fell upon him. Obi-Wan's heart lifted //Master !-// but something was wrong......Obi-Wan gave a startled gasp, unable to believe the truth of his own eyes. He shook his head, "N..no..."

Rigel smiled in triumph.

For the eyes which looked upon Obi-Wan were those of a stranger, there was no spark of recognition...nothing. His Master did not know him Obi-Wan gave a low moan, a sound of pure animal pain. Unable to bear the steady appraisal of those dark blue eyes - so familiar and strange - Obi-Wan looked away. The scavenger took advantage of the young man's grief, pulling an unresisting Obi-Wan close, laying the youth's head upon his shoulder.

Rigel kissed the boy's brow tenderly. "There little one, I did warn you." The scavenger tugged Obi-Wan shirt aside a little, stroking the soft skin beneath the emerald cloth. "You are nothing to him now little one....Nothing" Obi-Wan's gaze was devoid of all expression, blue-green eyes blank, unblinking; tears shimmering on the tips of long golden lashes. Merciless the scavenger pressed closer, his lips brushing against Obi-Wan's ear; whispering soft poison."You do not exist to him little one...You do not exist...."

Chapter IV

Obi-Wan felt something deep inside him twist and break at Rigel's venomous words.Nothing - he was -Nothing.

None of it existed any more - his struggle to be accepted as Qui-Gon's apprentice, their years together, that first startling kiss....the moment they became lovers...all...lost. Dazed, Obi-Wan sat blinded by his grief; razor sharp shards slicing deep into his soul. Surging up through the pain came a sudden bitter desperation.....Was he so easily forgotten?!

Even as Obi-Wan silently protested that Qui-Gon was blameless, that an insidious weapon had done this. Part of him, fed by Rigel's poisonious hatred, questioned how his Master - his Bond mate - could so easily have shed a lifetimes treasured memories. I don't exist to him.....I don't exist.... The tears which burned behind his eyes began to fall, scalding heat flowing furiously down stark white cheeks. Obi-Wan made no attempt to check them, nor did he resist when Rigel turned his face and brushed his lips across the salty tracks.

Caught in a maelstrom of despair Obi-Wan didn't notice Rigel signal for the 'entertainment' to begin. He jumped as a crew man casually tossed two crude knives onto the table. Obi-Wan watched, still uncomprehending, as the crew man removed most of the chains and shackles from the prisoners - leaving Qui-Gon and the other slave bound together by a single length of chain connected to their wrists.

Rigel twisted in his seat, turning them around, giving them both a better view of the 'proceedings'. As the crew and slaves scattered from the floor, Obi-Wan felt an icy coldness grip him. //Master..?//

The blue-skinned Garian tensed, eyes darting nervously between Qui- Gon and the blades upon the table. Qui-Gon stood, apparently impassive - but Obi-Wan could detect the undercurrents of confusion and concern in his Master's eyes.

Rigel raised his tankard....a hush fell.... it slammed down....and chaos erupted.

The crew's voices rose in unmistakable excitement, as the Garian made a sudden dive towards the table - grabbing for one blade whilst simultaneously trying to sweep the other out of reach. Qui-Gon staggered - pulled forward by the Garian's momentum - but recovered quickly; moving with startling speed to snatch the knife before it could slide away. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath, every muscle tight with fear. He glanced toward Rigel, and stifled a gasp, recoiling from the blatant bloodlust in the scavenger's gaze.

Howling their delight the crew surged forward as the Garian slashed wildly at Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan watched helplessly as his Master struggled to evade the swift attack. The Garian had a clear advantage in both speed and reach; long blue limbs performing a deadly dance around the Jedi. However even as Obi-Wan held his breath, Qui-Gon seemed to re-evaluate his attacker's strategy, and began to counter- attack.

Obi-Wan felt a rush of awe as he beheld his Master. Even without the Force, Qui-Gon Jinn was a warrior of breathtaking skill. The Jedi Master flowed with pure, seemingly effortless grace, each movement carefully controlled. A sharp contrast to the Garian's desperate assault; which grew more ragged and unco-ordinated as Qui-Gon pressed his advantage.

His attention focused solely upon his Master, Obi-Wan was blind to Rigel's mounting displeasure. He missed the scavenger's subtle signal to a crew man. It was only when the man stepped out from the crowd, swinging a slender metal rod toward the Jedi, that Obi-Wan started in alarm - "Master!" Whether Qui-Gon was responding to his voice, or simply the tone of warning, Obi-Wan didn't know; but Qui-Gon spun away....Too late, the metal rod caught the Jedi a glancing blow across his shoulder - Obi-Wan cried out, even as his Master's own pain-filled cry echoed through the room.

Obi-Wan clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, as Qui-Gon staggered - flashes of electric blue running up and down his crippled arm. The knife tumbled from useless fingers, and was lost as a crew man kicked it away..... //No...Master!//

Momentarily stunned by the crew man's intervention the Garian failed to take immediate advantage. However it quickly realised it's gain. Rallying itself with savage glee it drove forward with renewed intent.

One arm hanging uselessly, dark blue eyes glazed with pain, Qui-Gon stumbled away from the Garian; dragging uselessly on the chain which bound him. The silver rod re-appeared in the hands of another crew-man. Obi-Wan screamed in protest "Noooooo!" Then watched in horror as his Master fell - blue-light dancing around his body.

Obi-Wan strained toward his Master. Strengthened by sheer desperation, he broke free of Rigel's crushing embrace, sliding onto the floor. However, as he tried to scramble away a huge hand came down grabbing his hair, dragging him up by the scruff of his neck. Kicking, struggling he dangled from the scavenger's grasp. Twisting, writhing he turned his gaze toward his Master - frantic gray-green burning into agonized blue. //Master...!// Something seemed to flicker in their pain-dulled depths....

Qui-Gon moved - just as the Garian dived forwards for the killing blow. The blade which would have pierced the Jedi's heart, instead drove deep into the Jedi's shoulder. Held fast against the scavenger's legs Obi-Wan sobbed, watching with horror as a crimson stain blossomed outwards, spreading with terrifying speed across his Master's chest. "Master!"

The older Jedi's face set into a grimace, teeth gritted against the pain. Taking advantage of the Garian's unbalanced posture, Qui-Gon wrapped the chain once around his arm, and pulled hard - yanking the Garian forward onto it's knees. Without pausing the Jedi Master moved, looping the remaining chain around the creatures neck - pulling it tight - slowly choking the Garian, who clawed uselessly at Qui-Gon.

//Yes Master!...Yes!// Obi-Wan felt a savage pleasure rushing through his body as he watched the Garian's desperate struggles. //Yes!//

"Yes!...Yes!"

Obi-Wan blinked, as though waking from a stupor "Yes...Yes!...Kill him !" The baying of the crew rose to a deafening crescendo"Kill him !...Kill him!" Gazing around him Obi-Wan stared into faces twisted with hate, the voices merging into a terrifying chant. "Yes! Kill him !...Kill him now!"

"No!" Obi-Wan's voice was all but drowned out in the clamouring for blood. "No! Master!" Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to feel the darkness in this room, it swirled all around them, a malevolent vampyre feasting upon the crazed bloodlust of the crew. Stricken with fear, Obi-Wan scrabbled forwards, fingers outstretched toward Qui- Gon. Rigel snarled in anger, hoisting Obi-Wan back onto his lap. However the sudden movement was enough to catch Qui-Gon's eye and Obi-Wan again locked gazes with his Master, pleading silently - knowing Qui-Gon could not hear his mental cries. Don't do this Master...please...Don't do this!

Obi-Wan watched as pain and anger melted into puzzled acceptance. He gave a sob of relief as Qui-Gon unwound the chain and roughly pushed the semi-conscious Garian away, with a weary - "No." Stunned, the crew fell silent. Struggling to his feet, Qui-Gon turned to face his chief tormentor, staring with quiet dignity into Rigel's enraged countenance. "I...I will not kill him." Breathy voice laced with pain, but Obi-Wan recognized his Master's resolve and could not conceal his delight, triumph shining in his eyes.

His pleasure was short lived.

Rigel stared silently at Qui-Gon, meeting the Jedi Master's unwavering gaze measure for measure. Then slowly the scavenger smiled. "Very well." Obi-Wan tensed, every instinct tuned to danger. The scavenger made a slight gesture with his hand, a ring glinted - bright amber light - Rigel's smile widened, "Then you'll both die." The Garian on the floor was already gasping, hands tugging at the slave collar, as slowly the silver band constricted, crushing it's throat.

Horrified Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon staggered, and dropped to his knees; face already strained and scarlet with the effort of drawing breath. "No!" The crew, revitalised by their leader's callous cruelty, began to bay and holler - scenting death. The Garian twitched...once....twice....then lay still. Obi-Wan stared into his Master's dying eyes helplessly...//I love you...I love you...please// His silent plea became a shuddering sob, as Qui-Gon's eyes began to close.

"No!" This time Obi-Wan directed his protest to Rigel. "Please I beg you...No!" Rigel regarded him blandly. Praying he was right, Obi- Wan twisted in his captor's grasp, just enough to lay his face against the scavenger's broad chest. "Please Sire. I beg you. Spare his life." Lifting his face up a little Obi-Wan turned the full force of his gaze upon the scavenger; lowering his voice to a soft husky whisper. "I beg you Sire. I...I will do whatever you want, but spare his life." Obi-Wan held his breath. If he had miscalculated Rigel would simply kill Qui- Gon and do what he wished to him anyway....but Rigel wanted him tamed, well - Obi-Wan swallowed hard - he would give the scavenger what he desired.

Rigel stared, apparently startled by Obi-Wan's sudden acquiescence. Then the scavenger stood, dragging Obi-Wan up with him. Waving a hand toward the fallen Jedi, Qui-Gon jerked, and began drawing in great, noisy breaths. Obi-Wan had little chance to savour his relief. Swung up over the scavenger's shoulder, he watched his Master being dragged away, as Rigel turned and strode out of the galley - to the whoops and catcalls of the crew.

Chapter V

As the cabin door slid shut behind them, Rigel lowered Obi-Wan to the ground. The youth swayed unsteadily, stumbling forward as Rigel gave him a gentle shove toward the bed. "Take off your clothes." Obi- Wan obeyed - heart hammering in his chest. His hands shook as he fumbled with the drawstring at his waist. "Take them off!" Mistaking his awkwardness for a refusal, Rigel pushed Obi-Wan down onto the bed, stripping off the trousers - tearing the delicate cloth. Obi-Wan whimpered, fear paralysing him.

Naked, Obi-Wan lay motionless as Rigel reached beneath the bed and drew out a dull metallic case. The scavenger caressed it, running his large hands up and down the smooth sides almost lovingly, before carefully opening it. Obi-Wan's eyes widened as the scavenger withdrew two sets of manacles and two lengths of chain, and he flinched away instinctively as Rigel reached for him.

Ignoring the youth's obvious distress, Rigel roughly seized Obi-Wan's wrist - snapping a manacle around it. Obi-Wan fought the urge to vomit as the cold metal gripped his arm; biting his lip to stifle a cry as Rigel cruelly dragged him upwards. With the ease of long practice, the scavenger threaded a length of chain through two small metal hoops embedded in the wall above the pillows. The second manacle was fastened around Obi-Wan's other wrist, and the chain connected to them both. As the third and the fourth manacles enclosed around his ankles, Obi-Wan closed his eyes - listening to the soft slink of metal as the last length of chain bound his legs to the bed.

Opening his eyes slowly, Obi-Wan gazed upwards - feeling a sudden rush of dizziness as he was greeted by the sight of his own bound and naked body reflected in the mirror above. Sickened he turned his face away, but Rigel caught his jaw and pulled him back. "No..no little one. Watch..." The last word was a huskily whispered command, and Obi-Wan stared as the scavenger reached into the case - his eye catching the sharp glint of bright metal - a needle, long and slender. The scavenger brought it close to Obi-Wan's face, watching in delight as the young man paled, eyes widening in shock.

Obi-Wan tried to squirm away - the chains were long enough to allow him some movement - but his attempts to draw further back were useless. Slowly, Rigel stroked the needle down Obi-Wan's cheek; gray-green eyes followed it, riveted with terror. "There little one, isn't it beautiful ? Feel how cold it is. Do you feel it?" Obi-Wan simply gazed at his tormentor, mute with fear. Rigel smiled. "Ah..I see you do." The scavenger set the needle down, and sat back. "Are you ready little one ?" The fingers around Obi-Wan's jaw loosened - reaching down to touch his throat, caressing the bite mark with tender fascination. Rigel lowered his face to Obi-Wan's. "It's time to 'play' little one, are you ready?" Obi-Wan twitched, Rigel laughed softly, "Hmm..yesss..I think you are..."

Obi-Wan stiffened as powerful fingers gripped his thighs, forcing them apart, pushing his knees down towards the silken sheets. Hot shame battled cold fear, as he lay open and vulnerable beneath Rigel's rapacious gaze. The scavenger moved forwards, settling himself between Obi-Wan's legs.

This isn't happening...This isn't happening...No...No...Noooo! Obi-Wan clenched his jaw against the screams which threatened to spew forth. Confronted with something far beyond his most terrified imaginings he struggled blindly against a violent, churning whirlpool of bitter black despair and choking fear.

Unable to look away, Obi-Wan watched in fearful anticipation as Rigel picked up the needle. Bubbles of hysteria welled up inside his throat. Rigel's ice-blue gaze glittered with savage pleasure as the scavenger leaned forward, carefully placing the needle point against Obi-Wan's naked thigh. Obi-Wan struggled not to move as the scavenger lovingly stroked the slender length of steel back and forth - exerting just enough gentle pressure to score a thin white line across his skin.

Without warning Rigel pushed downwards.

Obi-Wan cried out in shock and pain, arching up against his shackles; gasping as the needle's point slowly sank into protesting flesh. Scalding tears burned behind his eyes as the cold steel slid deep into trembling muscle. He gave a guttural groan, his head falling back, as his body twitched uncontrollably.

Slowly Rigel withdrew the needle.

There was a strange warmth flowing upwards, as blood rushed toward the wound. A delicate droplet, like a scarlet tear, welled up - hot against his aching flesh.

With a broken sob Obi-Wan sank back into the tangled sheets, his whole body shaking violently. He lay there, dragging in harsh gulps of air. Suddenly he tensed. Lowering his gaze he gasped in revulsion - Rigel was pressing his lips to the tiny wound. Obi-Wan hissed as the scavenger's mouth closed over him; biting his lip to stifle a whimper as Rigel began to suckle, drawing hard upon the tender flesh.

Beneath the heat of the scavenger's mouth Obi-Wan shivered, cold terror consuming him. He bit back a wave of nausea as Rigel gently kissed his bare leg; the scavenger raked his tongue across the seeping wound once before releasing him. Seeing Obi-Wan's revulsion Rigel smiled. "Nectar little one. The pure sweet essence of life itself." The scavenger brought the needle to the base of his own thumb - pushing in the point until the blood flowed. "Here little one. Drink." Obi-Wan shook his head frantically as Rigel pushed his bloody hand against his mouth. The scavenger's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Drink. Or I will have your Master dragged here and flogged to death in front of you!"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, //Master....Forgive me...// Slowly his tongue slipped out between trembling lips, tasting the sharp metallic tang of the scavenger's blood. "Good little one. Now drink. Drink." Sickened to the depths of his soul, Obi-Wan sucked upon the wound. Hot rich blood filled his mouth....Sobbing....choking....he swallowed; feeling the vicious fluid slide across his tongue, and down his throat. Gray- green eyes shot open as Obi-Wan pulled away, his face twisted in bitter revulsion. Rigel however seemed content. "Yes! Now you have my life inside you." The scavenger stroked Obi-Wan's cheek lovingly; trailing a sticky scarlet smear across the white face. "We are joined little one. Bound together." Rigel grinned, "Bonded by blood."

B..bonded?....No! - but even as he recoiled from the words, Obi- Wan felt icy tendrils reach in and wrap around his heart. A slow cold poison spreading outwards, splintering his already fractured soul. Weeping softly, Obi-Wan struggled to contain his anguish, battling for some semblance of control. However exhausted and in pain his emotions overwhelmed him, and he lay sobbing brokenly.

Rigel coldly disregarded Obi-Wan's distress. Turning away from the weeping youth, the scavenger withdrew another needle from the case. Deceptively slender - gleaming silver in the cabin's harsh white light.

Choking back his tears, Obi-Wan cringed as Rigel brought the glittering point towards him. Stomach muscles clenching convulsively as cold metal brushed against his skin. Hot shame flushed his cheeks, and Obi-Wan forced himself to meet the scavenger's gaze. Channelling all his will into defiance - tear filled eyes bright with bitter contempt.

Rigel seemed more amused than angry by the bravado.

Obi-Wan stared in appalled fascination as the scavenger gently drew the needle across his shivering torso. He hissed, pulling in a sharp breath as the point was dragged upwards - a desperate whimper escaping as it scratched across his chest. Transfixed, he watched as the needle slowly circled his nipple...spiralling closer...closer...The sensitive flesh pebbling as the cold metal stroked across the nub.

"Ready little one?"

Gray-green eyes blinked in fear-filled confusion, then widened in pain as Rigel reached up with his free hand to savagely grip Obi-Wan's right nipple. Holding the hardening bud between vice-like fingers, the scavenger tugged the delicate flesh. Unable to help himself, Obi-Wan cried out in shock and fear. The cry became a wail of protest as the needle slowly entered his flesh. Pushing through the skin ...tugging as it met faint resistance - then white hot pain as the point drove through.

At once the blood rose up, scalding heat trickling down his chest.

Almost purring with pleasure, Rigel twisted the needle slightly; Obi- Wan gasped, pulling hard against his chains. Slowly the scavenger drew the needle back... blood oozing stickily from the wound - a tiny red-rimmed maw. Obi-Wan lay panting, eyes half-closed, breath coming in short ragged sobs.

Calloused fingers caressed his face, "There now little one. Almost done." A sharp tug....then sickening pain, as something achingly cold slid through the punctured skin. Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open, and he stared in silent horror at a shining silver ring, glinting obscenely against his blood smeared flesh.

The first bright hot agony was already fading, leaving behind a raw, burning ache. Trembling muscles finally gave way and Obi-Wan collapsed, his whole body shaking. The fine silken sheets clinging to his sweat soaked skin. Gray-green gaze turned dull and glassy; defiance muted into wretched misery.

Obi-Wan watched with a strange detachment as the scavenger's focus turned toward his remaining, unmutilated nipple. He stiffened as the steel barb touched his flesh. Face suffused with passion, Rigel pinched the bud between his rough fingers - rubbing the rosy nub until it hardened.

Obi-Wan bit down hard, clenching his jaw to suppress a cry at his body's cruel betrayal.

Drawing in a tight breath, Obi-Wan waited - the agony of anticipation its own ruthless torment - Rigel paused, prolonging the ordeal, one glacial blue orb sweeping over Obi-Wan's face; obviously excited by the fear he found there.

A sudden swell of nausea and the sickly sweet fragrance of blood as the point slid through.

Obi-Wan clawed at the slippery sheets, his traitorous tongue murmuring nonsensically - pleading, begging, praying....wanting an end to this. Filled with self-loathing Obi-Wan turned away from the Bond link, anxious that his Master not sense his shame.

"There little one." Rigel's voice was a warm, husky whisper. "Sssh. It's over." Obi-Wan shivered as he felt the scavenger's hot breath drift across his skin. "So sweet...So sweet...." The scavenger's voice trailed off, and Obi-Wan gave a sudden start, pain lancing through his chest. Gazing down he moaned - Rigel's tongue was lapping greedily at the blood oozing from his pierced flesh. Sharp teeth tugged gently on the silver hoops, sending fresh rivulets of agony through his body.

Finally Rigel sat back, breathing hard, lips wet with blood and saliva. The scavenger lifted up a thin length of chain - one end spliced into two. Straddling Obi-Wan's thighs, Rigel fastened the two ends - one to each ring - leaving a leash for him to hold. Blue eye glittering with rising excitement, Rigel wound the silver thread around his knuckles, before giving it a gentle, experimental tug.

Obi-Wan cried out sharply, forced to rise up to ease the drag upon his abused flesh.

"Now little one we will play!" Obi-Wan watched in horror as Rigel undid the laces of his breeches, reaching in to release his turgid flesh. The thick length extended rapidly, the violent purple crown almost touching Obi-Wan's face. He turned aside quickly, gagging with revulsion as it brushed against his cheek.

His desperate - "No!" sharpened to a plaintive cry as Rigel pulled sharply on the chain, dragging him closer. Gasping, Obi-Wan gritted his teeth against the hot pain burning through his chest; straining uselessly against the shackles which held him helpless.

Powerful fingers curled around his throat, clutching him in a choking grip, as Rigel spat the words into his face, "I spared his life!... I can still change my mind!"

//Master!// Obi-Wan closed his eyes.....the chain jerked cruelly.

"Keep them open!"

Swathed in revulsion, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be pulled forward; unwillingly inhaling the dark musky scent of the scavenger's eager sex. As the hot sticky head touched his lips - smearing them with pre- cum - Obi-Wan felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.

"Open for me little one." Another sharp painful tug and Obi-Wan slowly opened his mouth, fighting not to pull away as the rigid flesh was pushed between his lips - tasting the bitter salt of Rigel's excitement. //Master!...Qui-Gon...Help me....Please!//

Rigel's breathing grew ragged as the scavenger slid his straining erection in and out of Obi-Wan's mouth.

Obi-Wan screamed silently This wasn't happening...this couldn't be happening... Unable to cry, he sat - eyes wide - in shock; struggling not to gag as Rigel pounded into him.

The pace quickened, Rigel thrusting so deeply into his throat, Obi- Wan felt himself begin to choke. Then, with a deep guttural groan, the scavenger released his stream of seed. Obi-Wan fought not to choke as the thick hot fluid gushed down the back of his throat. "Swallow." Gagging, Obi-Wan obeyed.

Finally Rigel withdrew, sticky strands of semen trailing like spider's web from his wet, glistening flesh. Unable to suppress a whimper, Obi-Wan turned away, wiping his mouth across his shoulder.

Face still flushed with pleasure, the scavenger seized Obi-wan's Padawan braid and pulled the youth's head back roughly, crushing his mouth with a demanding kiss. Drawing back, Rigel's eyes glittered. "What a find you are little one! A Jedi with the mouth of a whore."

With a choked sob, Obi-Wan spat into the scavenger's face. Rigel's smile widened as he wiped away the spittle. Then he kissed Obi-Wan again; biting down savagely upon the youth's lower lip until Obi-Wan felt the soft skin split beneath the assault. Rigel released him, grinning - teeth obscenely stained with blood.

The scavenger sat back, redressing himself hastily. He unfastened all of Obi-Wan's shackles bar one - binding the youth to the bed by a wrist. "Sleep now little one." A hand stroked down Obi-Wan's trembling side. Obi-Wan jerked away, Rigel simply laughed. Then, obviously well pleased, the scavenger left.

Obi-Wan scrubbed his hand back and forth across his mouth, heedless of his torn lip, desperately trying to erase the taste of Rigel's seed. Like the Mindus it seemed to be spreading through his body - cold dark tendrils stretching outwards, tainting him.

He lay back, staring into nothingness....He was lost.....

Finally he wept.....

Chapter VI

Qui-Gon sat impassively as the slave Hylas tended to his knife wound. The slender Lycinian had attached himself to the Jedi's side from the moment Qui-Gon had awoken aboard the Black Narcissus. Nameless, devoid of memories or companions, Qui-Gon was grateful for the Lycinian's cautious friendship.

There were no medical supplies, and precious little clean water, but the slave did a passable job of cleaning and dressing the wound. "You were fortunate Kajaar. It is deep but not serious. See, the bleeding has already stopped." Qui-Gon merely grunted in acknowledgement, his thoughts elsewhere. "Kajaar? Are you alright?" The concern in Hylas' voice drew him back from his reverie.

Kajaar - the name the Lycinian had given him, simply translated it meant - 'of great height', appropriate since he towered above Hylas' tiny, fragile frame. The delicate looking Lycinian didn't quite reach his waist. Perhaps - Qui-Gon thought cynically - one reason for the Lycinian's devotion. Such a small creature needed a protector. Though, he acknowledged wryly, it was he who had been on the receiving end so far. Hylas had quickly informed him of the 'rules' of survival aboard the ship. Total obedience, being the key point to remember.

He turned to look at his small companion, smiling a little to reassure the worry in the large amber eyes. "I'm fine. Just a little weary."

The Lycinian snorted. "Yes, well almost dying will do that to you." Qui-Gon's smile widened. It felt good to have someone care whether he lived or died in this place; even if it was for somewhat mercenary reasons. Qui-Gon's expression grew pensive as his thoughts returned to the young man who had saved his life. He still could not fathom the motive behind the young man's actions.

"Hylas?"

"Hmm?" The Lycinian had turned his attention to the cuts covering Qui-Gon's face.

"There was a young man-"

"Pretty?"

Startled by the Lycinian's interruption, Qui-Gon caught the slave's slender fingers and pulled them away from his face. "What?!"

The Lycinian shook himself free of Qui-Gon's grip. "I said, w a s h e p r e t t y?" Hylas's face wrinkled in disgust. "Our sire has a penchant for pretty young men."

Qui-Gon stared hard at the Lycinian, who seemed bemused by his reaction. However much to his disquiet he realised he could, without effort, recall every detail of the young man's visage.

Pretty? - surely too shallow a term for the breathtaking creature who had watched him with such strange sorrow. Even the youth's startling pallor and haunted expression had done little to detract from his physical beauty.

From the moment Qui-Gon had been led into the galley - an unwilling spectacle for the howling, jeering crew - his attention had been drawn toward the youth draped across the scavenger's broad lap. That face, with its sensuous mouth, and high wide cheekbones had sent a rush of heat surging through his body. The suddenness of his desire had disturbed him, and conscious of the danger he had deliberately turned away. However his 'awareness' of the youth had gnawed at him. Finally he was able to bear it no longer - and had succumbed to the youth's silent will.

Glancing across he had met the young man's steady gaze with measured reluctance - only to be instantly captured by mutable gray- green depths.

Strange eyes - pure, untainted, radiant - like uncut tricana crystals. The room had slid away, in that instant nothing else had existed...nothing except the beautiful young man seated before him. Qui-Gon frowned, he was certain he had not mistaken the surge of longing in those incredible eyes; it had surprised him, even as he had responded with his own heated look. However, he had watched as longing turned to shock...and then to panic....fear....and finally pain. He had felt a peculiar sense of 'loss' when the youth had abruptly turned away - as though a 'connection' between them had been broken. Then the room had tilted back into focus, and with it the simple matter of his own survival.

The fight had not gone well. Still distracted by the youth, tired, hungry and aching from what felt like a thousand blows, he had barely managed to avoid been impaled upon the Gracian's first murderous lunge. He had let instinct take hold - guiding him through moves which had felt oddly familiar. He had struggled against the Gracian's desperate ferocity, until finally the fight had begun to turn in his favour. Victory had seemed almost certain.

Then he had heard it - cutting through the cacophony - the young man's voice, so clear it seemed to resonate inside his head Master!. He had felt himself respond instinctively - A warning......Danger !

He had moved....but too late.

Qui-Gon rubbed his arm, it was still stiff and numb from the blow from the power-staff; as was his leg. A bone-deep, throbbing ache pulsating through his limbs; but it was fading slowly. Certainly it was no longer the jarring agony of that first touch. The power-staff had barely grazed his shoulder yet for an instant he had been certain he would pass out from the pain. He had staggered, the crude blade falling from his fingers, his rhythm lost.

Forced into retreat he had struggled to regain his balance - but another blow from the power-staff had driven him to his knees. Exhausted beyond all hope or reason, he had been prepared for the inevitability of death.

He was unable to account for what had happened next.

Master! - The cry was...inside his head. With it came a surge of grief and suffering so strong, it had literally wrenched him back from the brink of surrender. The knife thrust which would have claimed his life, instead dug deep into his shoulder. The bright hot agony shocking him back into full awareness. Seized with a sudden, driven strength, he had gritted his teeth against the pain and pressed forward; once more on the attack.

The chain had wrapped around the Gracian's slender neck, burrowing deep into the soft blue skin; he had felt the slave's pulse thundering beneath his fingers. Every frantic twitch, the strain of blood, bone and muscle - the desperate fight for life. Physically he had felt it all....and yet emotionally he had felt...nothing....Just a strange twisted emptiness; as he had gradually choked the Gracian into death's waiting embrace.

No! Again the voice had broken through his stupor. A sudden scrabbling movement catching his eye. He had looked up slowly - and stared in shock.

Pale gray-green eyes, tears flowing steadily, but it was the pain pouring out from those crystal depths which had reached out to him.

Pain....pain and fear.......and somehow he knew the fear was for him. Just as somehow he had understood what the youth was asking of him. He had felt a strange sense of 'relief ' as he pushed the Gracian away from him. Finding the strength to get to his feet he had faced the scavenger; enjoying the silence around him - and the look in those eyes. Suddenly knowing he would do anything for this nameless youth....

He hadn't been surprised when the scavenger had ordered his death; he had expected that would be the price for his 'disobedience'.

The slave collar had tightened quickly. He had fallen - the floor cold against his cheek - his heartbeat thudding through his body. He had looked up into the youth's distraught gaze - the beautiful face twisted into a mask of agonized despair.

He wanted to reach up....to touch....to comfort....

But it was too late...he was dying....

Then, through the cold silence he had heard it. A voice, a soft melodic whisper; wrapping itself around him - warming him - even as the words chilled his soul. Please Sire. I beg you. Spare his life.....I beg you Sire. I...I will do whatever you want, but spare his life

He had wanted to scream in protest....A sudden wild fury building up inside of him.

It was still there, boiling just beneath the surface.

"He's hurting." Qui-Gon didn't even realise he had spoken aloud until he heard Hylas' less than delicate snort.

"Hmph! No doubt." The Lycinian's gaze softened when he saw the raw pain in dark blue eyes. "Rigel is less than gentle with his playthings, but he won't kill the boy." Hylas looked around the cold damp slave pen meaningfully. "His lot is little worse than ours."

Qui-Gon shivered, unable to dispel the image of pale flesh bruised and bleeding. Who was he?

Chapter VII

Nezan stared at the naked youth, shackled to the scavenger's huge bed by one slender wrist. Even in sleep the boyish face was lined with misery, tears staining hollow white cheeks. He picked up the discarded clothing; taking in the torn and tattered cloth. Sighing heavily he approached the bed, and gently touched a bare arm. The effect was rather more alarming than he had anticipated, as the limb struck out at him savagely. Nezan slid off the bed, and found himself gazing up from the floor into a pair of angry hostile eyes.

Slowly he raised his hands, "Easy, easy. I won't hurt you." The youth stared at him, lips drawn back into a snarl. Nezan had the distinct impression that if he got too close those sharp white teeth would take a good sized lump out of him. He had no intention of getting too close. He let a little of his exasperation show. "Look I have to examine you." He stood up, the youth pulled back sharply and Nezan caught a glimpse of silver. His attention was drawn to the young man's chest; he cursed as he took in the dried blood - twin sliver hoops spearing the boy's flushed and swollen nipples.

The youth followed his gaze and Nezan watched the young man's expression turn bitter - before shamefully trying to conceal the defilement with his un-fettered arm. The sudden wince told Nezan the abused flesh was still very tender. He decided to try again to reason with the youth. "Look, I'm not here to hurt you," he paused softening his voice, "in any way." The young man flinched but allowed him to approach the bed. "I'm Nezan." Bitterness clouded his own eyes for a moment, "I 'guess', I'm what passes for a Doctor in this place." The youth watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look I've been ordered to look at you." Nezan knew from those expressive eyes, that the youth had caught the unspoken implication that it would bode ill for them both if he failed. "What's your name?"

Hesitation....a flicker of uncertainty...then - "Obi-Wan."

Nezan's mouth twisted wryly, "Well Obi-Wan, under different circumstances I'd be pleased to meet you." He met the youth's gaze grimly. "Will you let me look at you?" Nezan waited patiently, if the boy refused he would simply have him subdued and restrained, but he would rather the youth submit willingly. He felt his innards crawl when he thought what this boy may already have endured.

He was relieved when the youth nodded shakily. "Al..alright."

Keeping his manner brisk and as impersonal as he could, Nezan examined the youth. Obi-Wan was compliant, but Nezan could feel the tension radiating off the youth's body. Obi-Wan drew back again as soon as Nezan indicated he was finished. "You've been very ill." Nezan didn't pretend it was a question; even someone without medical knowledge could have picked up on the signs. Nezan catalogued them for himself silently. It was clear from the young man's build and muscle tone that Obi-Wan had spent a lot of time pursuing a very high level of fitness and suppleness - far beyond that of the normal twenty-something. However there had been dramatic weight loss, the ribs and cheekbones very prominent, the eyes sunken. Since the muscles were largely unaffected he surmised the weight loss had been recent and sudden. Nezan frowned, he did not want an epidemic onboard....not now....not when he was so close...

"Do you know what was wrong?" Gray-green eyes regarded him suspiciously. Nezan felt frustration creep in. "Obi-Wan I know you are Jedi."

The youth stared at him in unguarded shock."You...you know?"

Exasperated, Nezan nodded. "The whole crew knows. Hell most of them wanted you and your friend tossed out the nearest airlock."

"Why..why didn't they?"

Nezan snorted. "Rigel changed their minds. He can be quite persuasive" Caught up in his disgust for the scavenger captain, Nezan jumped when the youth slid forward and grabbed his arm.

"My Master-"

Confused Nezan interrupted,"Who?"

It was the boy's turn to look impatient. "The other Jedi. Is he alright ? Have you seen him?"

Seeing the desperate concern in the young man's gaze, Nezan felt a twinge of compassion. He shook his head, his voice soft, "No. Rigel has little interest in providing medical care for slaves." His voice rose in contempt, "Hell, he doesn't care that much about getting it for his crew."

Obi-Wan tightened his grip. "Can you get to him?"

"Wh-what?!" Nezan shook his head, pulling his arm free. "Uh- uh. No way!" He stood up. "Rigel will have me thrown out the nearest airlock if I so much as look at your 'friend'." The youth knelt up on the bed, straining against his chain. Nezan watched appalled, as fresh blood began to trickle from the welts around the young man's wrist. "Here!" He sat back down on the bed, grabbing the youth's arm. "Here! Don't do that!"

Obi-Wan ignored him, eyes blazing - grief to the point of madness. Disturbed, Nezan continued to speak soothingly to the youth; taking out a small jar from his bag, he gently smoothed the lotion into the weeping flesh. "Sssh, there. Be still. Be still." Gradually, the young man's struggles lessened, and he sat breathing heavily. Nezan listened to the painful wheezing gasps with growing concern. "Look. I...I might be able to get some medical supplies sent to him." Obi-Wan nodded dully. Nezan felt unaccountably angry. "I'm sorry but it's the best I can do."

He handed the young man the jar. "Here rub this into...." His voice trailed off as gray-green eyes, dark with suffering, turned toward him. "Well...just use it anywhere that hurts." Nezan was startled when the youth gave a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Troubled, he found himself sitting back down; slipping a comforting arm - cautiously - around slender trembling shoulders. He felt Obi-Wan stiffen, and then lean into the embrace slightly. Nezan hesitated, and then somewhat awkwardly brought up his other arm. He jumped when Obi-Wan suddenly turned in toward him, burying his face against Nezan's chest. Something inside Nezan twisted sharply as a harsh broken sob burst forth, and then another. The violence of the boy's grief shaking the body in his arms. Instinctively Nezan tightened his hold, drawing the youth even closer; resting his head on surprisingly soft spiky hair. He didn't try to offer any patronizing platitudes - What could he say?...That everything would be alright?

Eventually the harsh wracking sobs became noisy gulps, and then silence. Obi-Wan struggled lightly, and Nezan released him. The young man shifted away, wiping at his eyes savagely. Obi-Wan seemed bewildered and embarrassed by his loss of control. Nezan knew better, he realized the youth was in a state of mild shock - and probably had been since he was brought aboard. Cursing under his breath, Nezan shrugged out of his jacket and placed around the shivering youth's shoulders. Obi-Wan shot him a puzzled look, but accepted the offering - fingers closing convulsively around the lightweight material.

Nezan sat, chewing on his lip nervously. He felt for the boy - he really did, but he still wasn't sure just how far he could trust the youth; Jedi or not.

"Why are you here?"

Nezan blinked stupidly. "Wh-what?"

"You treat me with compassion. You obviously care nothing for..for R-Rigel," Obi-Wan's voice caught a little on the scavenger's name, "Why do you stay with these people?"

Nezan stared at the young man silently for a moment, still trying to decide how much he should or could tell. "I....I have something to do here. When that's done, then I'll leave." He suddenly found himself uncomfortable beneath that calm clear gaze. It was hard to connect this young man - who regarded him so impassively; with the half hysterical boy who had sobbed in his arms only a moment before. He had heard that Jedi could read minds, and despite the slave collar, found himself wondering anxiously if it were true.

"You are on a mission?"

Nezan went cold. "No!" He knew he had protested too vehemently when the youth's eyebrows rose slightly. "Look I...I have to go."

"No!" This time it was the youth's turn to protest; Obi-Wan snatched at his hand, holding on to it with surprisingly strength. "Please. Look if you will help us, perhaps my Master and I can assist you."

Nezan shook his head, struggling to break loose. "No! You can't do anything. Just let me go!" The young man clung on with alarming tenacity and Nezan briefly considered calling for a guard, but quickly rejected the idea. "Obi-Wan please! There is nothing I can do!" The fearful desperation in his voice seemed to reach the young Jedi, who released him abruptly. Nezan staggered, before regaining his balance; he turned to leave but the young man's voice called him back.

"Nezan?" Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath. "My Master he..he's lost his memory-"

Nezan nodded, "The stun gun - yes I know."

"Will it...will it come back?"

The pure misery in the young man's gaze struck him like a physical blow, and Nezan buckled. Slowly he retraced his footsteps back to the bed and sat down. He managed to meet Obi-Wan's eyes with difficulty. "Honestly ?" he shrugged. "I don't know." The youth sagged visibly. Nezan tried to explain. "Sometimes it does, but it tends to take time, and...well, slaves don't tend to have a lot of that."

Obi-Wan looked away, seemingly digesting this new information. Then he turned back to face Nezan, frowning, "What does he want them for?"

Nezan sighed, he'd hoped to avoid this conversation. "These are scavengers." Obi-Wan nodded impatiently. "Well, some of the places they go are...unsafe to say the least. Rigel seems to think slaves are more reliable, and less expensive then droids. Personally I think he just hates droids." It was Nezan's turn to look a little bewildered. "He's a hard man to figure out. I mean he actually reads all this stuff," he waved his arms around the room at the books overflowing from every shelf. "Philosophy, religion. He's an 'educated' man." Nezan shook his head nonplused. "But he has no soul, no compassion. It's like there's this big space where his humanity should be." Nezan felt the young man shudder, and cursed - of course the young man knew that

"Look I....I don't think he'll have your 'master' killed. Not yet." He left the - Not while he's still useful to ensure your compliance - unspoken.

Obi-Wan looked at him beseechingly. "Nezan I have to see him."

"You're crazy!"

Obi-Wan shook his head, "No. You don't understand, I may be able to help him. I have to help him!" The young man looked away, speaking softly, more to himself than Nezan, "At least I have to try."

"Forget it!" Nezan forgot about trying not to 'paw' the youth and grabbed his chin - pulling Obi-Wan around to face him. "There is no way Rigel will let you within spitting distance of your master." Gray- green eyes locked with his, and Nezan cursed the stubborn determination in them. "He'll kill you. Hell, he'll kill you both !"

"I need your help." The young man's cultured voice was perfectly calm; which only made Nezan more edgy.

"What part of no don't you understand?! I c a n n o t h e l p y o u!" He jumped up, and began to pace - constantly aware of the young man watching him coolly from the bed. Nezan ran a hand through his hair, dragging up the short black tufts. Finally he stopped and turned to face Obi-Wan."Alright." He tried to ignore Obi-Wan's expression, and the strange rush of exhilaration it gave him. "But it'll take a little time to set up."

Nezan began to pace again - it helped him think. "I have some equipment. Nothing fancy, but it can't be moved around. If I can convince Rigel I need it, he might -might let me take you to the lab." He caught Obi-Wan's concerned look and hastened to explain. "We don't really have any medical facilities, I store what equipment we have in a room near my quarters." Deep brown eyes glittered with amusement. "The crew call it the lab - it's not popular with them." His expression turned more thoughtful, "But that's to our advantage. None of them go in there unless ordered to."

"What about....?" Obi-Wan's soft voice trailed off.

"Rigel?" Nezan guessed. The young man nodded gravely. "That's where the time factor comes in. We're heading for Tattooine. Rigel has some business to conduct with the Hutts. It should take a day or two at least, the Hutts don't like to be hurried." Nezan grinned, the essence of a plan already taking shape in his mind. "He won't take you down there. Much too risky. The Hutts might insist on having a share of you and Rigel would not like that." Nezan glanced back at Obi-Wan who was pale but composed.

Now the young Jedi had 'recovered' a little, Nezan found himself revising his initial impression - the 'boy' was in fact probably only a handful of years younger than his own thirty-one. So why did he feel aeons older? Nezan glanced past Obi-Wan's shoulder, staring at his reflection in the huge wall mirror. Short black hair - sticking up at all angles thanks to his nervous habit of pulling at it when stressed. Even shorter beard, neatly trimmed with no sign of gray. Brown eyes - 'warm and caring' a girl had once told him.....but she was long since dead.

He thought of the real reason he was here. Could he risk that for the sake of two men who were expected to give up their lives for duty anyway ? Nezan looked back at Obi-Wan, who was watching him silently; there was a wealth of understanding in those startlingly clear eyes.

Suddenly Nezan realised - he was not aeons older - they both were. They were both older than their 'real' years. They had both seen too much, suffered too much. He crouched down before Obi-Wan, taking one cold hand between both of his; feeling Obi-Wan twitch a little at the unexpected contact. "Listen this...this is going to be hard." Gray- green eyes widened a little. Nezan took a deep breath, and met their troubled gaze steadily. "You're going to have to trust me. I will do what I can, but you...you-" Nezan sighed, he hated this - "you will have to keep Rigel sweet."

The fingers in his grasp jerked once, and from the fearful panic in Obi-Wan's eyes, Nezan guessed the Jedi understood the meaning of sweet. However this was not the time to be gentle. Ignoring the taste of bile in his mouth, Nezan pressed on brutally. "Whatever he wants give it to him." Nezan pressed his lips together grimly."Can you do that?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Nezan waited - trying hard not to push for an answer. When the young man opened them there was a certain icy hardness to those gray-green depths which hadn't been there before.

"I will do what needs to be done."

Nezan winced a little at the bitter resignation in Obi-Wan's voice. "Right...Good." He gave the young man's hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

Obi-Wan's eyes followed him as he stood up. "Nezan?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

The simple sincerity in the Jedi's voice cut through Nezan's hard veneer like a laser torch. Unable to speak for a moment he just nodded, but the look that passed between them was more eloquent than a thousand words. Finally Nezan found his voice again. "Obi- Wan?" Nezan paused, looking down at his feet. He glanced back up and sucked in a breath. "There's...there's no shame in surviving."

Obi-Wan responded with a strange, sad little smile.

Nezan decided it was time to go, but he had one more question that needed to be answered. "Your illness. What was it?" He got a dark, unreadable look before Obi-Wan whispered an answer

"Poison."

"What?!" Nezan's voice rose in amazement. Obi-Wan just gave him another sad little smile. Nezan ran his hand through hair, "I mean... How did-"

Obi-wan cut in quickly, "It doesn't matter."

Nezan opened his mouth to object and then shut it again. "Right." He looked at the Jedi's impassive visage - impressive the way they could apparently 'shut themselves down' like that. Still he knew better - Jedi wept just like ordinary men. "So. You're alright now?"

"Yes." A tone that brooked no argument. Well that was fine with Nezan. One less thing to worry about.

"Fine." Nezan still hesitated. He had already been here far longer than was safe - he did not want a suspicious, jealous Rigel to deal with. It would do him little good to protest that his preferences were for more curvaceous creatures. Rigel was insane, insane men could not be reasoned with. He smiled inwardly - but they could still be tricked. "Obi-Wan what's your Master's name?"

Slight, almost imperceptible hesitation, then - "Qui-Gon."

Nezan opened the door; he wasn't sure what else to say. He looked at the young Jedi; Obi-Wan's composure was slipping slightly. Nezan forced a smile onto his face; Obi-Wan gave a slight nod.

Nezan drew in a deep breath and stepped through the door. It slid shut behind him and he lent against it for a moment. Nezan my friend. I hope you know what you are doing He snorted in disgust Yeah right. You're just a sucker for big eyes and a sob story. Dragging himself forward he slouched off down the passageway - toward the slave quarters - muttering under his breath.

Chapter VIII

Qui-Gon eyed the slim young man in front of him doubtfully. "You're a medic?"

The young man ran a hand back over his head, spiking up the short black hair. "I'm a doctor. Look, do you want me to have a look at that knife wound or not?"

Eyes still dark with mistrust, Qui-Gon seated himself impassively upon the floor before the young man. "You may proceed."

Unbelievable Nezan thought as he knelt down and carefully bared Qui-Gon's knife wound. He had to hand it to these Jedi, they had some nerve, suddenly he felt like the slave. Still the older man's quiet dignity impressed him. No doubt about it the older Jedi had 'presence' - no wonder the boy spoke of him with such revered adoration. Nezan examined the wound - deep, but it was healing well. Another Jedi thing?

Nezan found himself growing steadily more agitated. Just how exactly was he going to do this? Hell the old guy didn't even know who he was !

Qui-Gon frowned, the young Doctor seemed strangely nervous. Perhaps because there was no guard present? - something which struck him as decidedly odd.

After Hylas had finished tending to him, Qui-Gon had fallen into a restless sleep - plagued by dreams of red-eyed demons and a green eyed youth screaming. He had woken feeling sick and unsettled. His sense of alarm intensified when he realised that he was alone in the slave pen. Then this nervous young man had stepped in - jumping as the pen's electronic lock hissed shut behind him.

Qui-Gon had stood up and stepped back a little - to put some room between him and his 'visitor', and also to gain a psychological advantage. The young man being almost a head shorter and of a slighter build. It had worked, Qui-Gon watched as the man swallowed reflexively, running his hand back and forth through his short hair. Qui-Gon had already noticed the absence of a slave collar. The man was quick to pick up his unease and hastily introduced himself as - 'Nezan - What passed for a Doctor on this ship.'

Qui-Gon was satisfied that Nezan did at least have some medical knowledge. Despite the man's edginess, the hands investigating his wound were sure and skilful. Perhaps the man was simply unhappy tending to a slave? Qui-Gon's mouth twisted bitterly. "Are you done?"

"What? Oh...Yes." Nezan sat back on his heels. He seemed to be struggling to meet Qui-Gon's impassive gaze. "Listen...I...That is..." The Doctor's voice trailed off, he looked frustrated. Qui-Gon arched one fine brow in inquiry. "That is....Oh Hell. Look, do you know who you are?" The words tumbled out in a rush, and Nezan watched him warily for his response.

Qui-Gon stiffened."No." His voice was cold, dismissive.

Nezan looked like someone had punched him in the gut."Nothing?!" His voice had a faint edge of despair. "I mean you don't remember your name-" The sentence ended on a squeak, as Qui-Gon shot forward with alarming speed and grabbed the Doctor.

"You know my name?" The words came out as a desperate hiss. deep blue eyes almost black in the dim light.

Nezan nodded, "Yes...Qui-Gon!...Your name is Qui-Gon!" The young Doctor sprawled back as he was abruptly released. Nezan wasted no time scrambling to his feet and moving away.

Qui-Gon sat silently, his face suffused with sudden wonder - Qui- Gon He glanced back up at Nezan, who was pacing nervously - muttering something about - '...a very bad idea'.

"Thank you."

"What...?"

"For giving me back my name." Qui-Gon dipped his head slightly. "Thank you."

"Oh. Right." Nezan was momentarily flustered - all this sincere gratitude was beginning to get to him. He stepped forward warily, crouching down a little way from the Jedi."Listen," Nezan lowered his voice to a whisper. "Since you don't remember anything I guess you don't remember that you're a Jedi?" At Qui-Gon's incredulous look Nezan groaned inwardly. "How about the boy. You remember him." Ah - that got a very different response. "You do remember him?" However Nezan's hopeful look was washed away when Qui-Gon shook his head.

"No...I ....I feel something...I.-" the Jedi clenched his fists, eyes blazing with a sudden anguish. "-I don't remember him." Nezan flinched at the raw pain in the Jedi's voice. Qui-Gon stared at him, the anger slowly draining away. "Do..do you know his name?"

"Obi-Wan."

"Obi-Wan." The Jedi repeated the name softly, eyes shining with emotion. Then the flare of anger was back. "Rigel has him." It wasn't really a question but Nezan nodded anyway. "Tell me." Qui-Gon turned the full force of his gaze upon the Doctor - eyes now burning with a desperate urgency. "Tell me about him." A flicker of something unreadable. "Tell me who I am."

Nezan shrugged helplessly. "I...I don't know." The older Jedi's deep sadness clawed at Nezan in the same way that Obi-Wan's grief had. He was filled with a sudden urge to run, to hide from all this pain, and bleak angry despair. He quashed the feeling ruthlessly, drawing in a deep breath. "Alright. This is what I do know. You were picked up from an uncharted planet in sector twelve. Apparently your ship was so much scrap metal, so I'm guessing it wasn't a planned landing. Anyway you and Obi-Wan were stunned and brought aboard, along with a few other things from your ship."

"What makes you think we are Jedi?"

Nezan shook his head bemused. "Well I don't know of any one else who carries a lightsaber." This got him a faintly incredulous look.

"I have a lightsaber?"

"Well they found two amongst your belongs. I guess they took two guys in robes, two lightsabers and thought - Hey two Jedi!" Nezan's sarcasm was not lost on Qui-Gon, who frowned. Nezan sighed. "Well Rigel knows a bit about your kind too I think. He muttered something about a Padwan braid ?"

"Padawan." Qui-Gon muttered softly

"Yeah. That was it - Padawan." Nezan started suddenly, and stared at Qui-Gon. "That was it! Padawan!" His excited whisper drew a puzzled look from Qui-Gon. "You knew it! You corrected me!"

Qui-Gon stared at him, then his gaze turned inwards for an instant, before the Jedi looked back at Nezan in disappointment. "It doesn't mean anything to me."

Nezan refused to be disheartened. "That's not the point. You knew. Professionally speaking, I'd say that there's a good chance that your memory is starting to return." He grinned. "Must be that Jedi blood." Qui-Gon responded with a faint weary smile, but Nezan was sure he had detected a glimmer of hope in it. "Anyway the rest you know. You're here and Obi-Wan....", Nezan's delight faded.

Qui-Gon finished the sentence."Is with Rigel."

There was an uncomfortable silence as both men absorbed the implication of that simple statement. Finally Nezan spoke. "He's worried about you." Dark blue eyes met his, and Nezan was beginning to get an inkling of that hitherto unreadable emotion burning in their depths - Longing - pure, desperate longing. The same thing he had seen in Obi-Wan's eyes every time the young man had mentioned his 'master'. Nezan felt a twinge of pity for them both - Well 'master Jedi', you might not remember him, but you sure as Hell still want him. He filed the information away, and pressed on. "You're all he's concerned about. He asked me to look at your injuries. He...he wants to meet with you."

That got a reaction.

"Is that possible?" The older Jedi looked hopeful, doubtful and suspicious all at once.

Nezan took another deep breath, this was where he committed himself. If he was misjudging the man before him - he was dead. Rigel was not the 'forgiving' type. "Well the plan is I get him into my lab for some tests. Then somehow I get you up there too."

"Somehow?"

"Well I'm still working on that bit." At the Jedi's increasingly doubtful look, Nezan felt slightly indignant. "It shouldn't be too hard. Slaves are easily controlled through their collars, so they're pretty much given free run of a lot of the ship once they've learnt the rules."

"Rules?"

Nezan looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well rule really. Obedience or death."

The Jedi responded with a simple."Ah."

"Anyway," Nezan hurried on, "Rigel has some business off ship. He'll take most of the crew with him. There aren't actually that many of them," Nezan explained, "and the Hutts are usually impressed by a significant show of force."

"So the ship will only have a skeleton crew." Qui-Gon mused thoughtfully.

"Exactly!" Nezan was relieved the Jedi was beginning to look slightly more convinced. It gave him faith that his plan wasn't as hopeless as he'd feared. "I'll think up some excuse," he shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe I'll say I need you for comparative tests or something. These guys don't know much about Jedi, they'll probably believe anything I tell them." His expression grew more serious. "You won't have long though. I daren't risk Rigel finding out that the two of you have been in contact. He is way too smart to be taken in by anything I say. Besides he knows more about Jedi than I do."

Qui-Gon nodded, "I understand." The Jedi looked at the Doctor questioningly. "If I might ask a question?"

A little uncertainly Nezan gave his consent.

"Why are you helping us?"

Nezan pulled a face. It always came back to this. Why did Jedi have to be so damned inquisitive. Why couldn't they just except his assistance without asking a lot of questions - Why? - probably because they were Jedi. "I...Look can you just accept that I'm not exactly one of these guys. I don't care for what's happening to your friend. Rigel -" Nezan sucked in a deep breath, "Rigel is a monster." Nezan felt the Jedi flinch, and cursed his own insensitivity. "Look, I just want to help. Will you let me?"

The Jedi nodded, his expression bleak "Yes."

"Good. Just...just try to keep your head down for a few days alright?" Nezan went over to the door and banged on it loudly. He looked back at the Jedi who stood up a little stiffly.

"I understand."

Nezan stepped back as the door was opened, he gave the Jedi one last brief look and then left - Still questioning his sanity.

Chapter IX

"Wake up little one."

Obi-Wan jerked awake, instinctively recoiling from the hand which reached out to caress his naked buttocks. Rigel frowned. "Now little one. I thought I had made it very clear." A hand shot forward seizing the slender chain - pulling it. Obi-Wan bit down hard; a whimper escaping his clenched teeth. "I will not tolerate such behaviour." Rigel's voice lowered to a throaty purr. "Now lie back little one and let me touch you."

Choking on his revulsion, Obi-Wan rolled over onto his back and lay - still and compliant - except for the shivers which shook his slender frame. Rigel's large hands slid over his body, stroking across his belly, sweeping up to gently tug the rings in his still tender nipples - making him hiss. Warm calloused fingers traced over his collar bone, his throat - the slaver collar, then down again - his thighs, his calves. Each foot held and studied as though it were some precious artifact. "So lovely...So very lovely." Rigel crooned the words, leaning forward until his breath was hot against Obi-Wan's cold skin. "I see Nezan left you his jacket." Obi-Wan stiffened. "I think we should return it. Don't you ?"

"Y-yes." Obi-Wan barely managed to gulp out the words.

"Hmm. Yes I think so." Obi-Wan gave a sharp cry as Rigel seized one nipple, twisting it viciously. "You accept gifts from no-one but me! Understand? No-one but me!"

"Yes!...Yess!" Obi-Wan moaned desperately, tears springing into his eyes.

Satisfied Rigel released him; licking the fresh blood from his fingers. Obi-Wan lay back gasping, his chest felt on fire - hot blades of agony slicing through his body. //Master!//

The scavenger's hands returned, stroking his belly - seeming to enjoy the sensation of wildly trembling muscles. They suddenly swept lower, and Obi-Wan forgot about obedience, gasping "No!" as he tried to pull away. Rigel responded by seizing Obi-Wan's free arm - shackling it to the hook and chain set-up above the headboard. Obi- Wan wailed, writhing madly; fear driving him beyond all reason. Rigel simply used his greater strength to pin his flailing legs, laughing at the young man's hysteria. However the scavenger tired of it quickly - striking Obi-Wan across the face with enough force to half-stun the youth, who fell abruptly silent.

"That's better little one. Now remember what I said. Obedience - or I will have your friend tortured to death."

"Qui-Gon...." Obi-Wan murmured, still dazed.

Rigel hissed in anger, wrapping his fingers around Obi-Wan's throat, "Do not mention another's name in my bed! He shook the youth, who's eyes began to roll back. Rigel noticed and released Obi-Wan abruptly. Cursing, the scavenger reached over and snatched up a bottle from the shelf nearest to the bed. Uncorking it, he passed the open contents back and forth under Obi-Wan's nose. The effect was instantaneous, as Obi-Wan's eyes shot open and he jerked away, coughing and gasping. Rigel threw the bottle aside, and moved back to straddle Obi-Wan.

"Enough little one. I forgive your...indiscretions. I will 'speak' with Nezan later." Rigel lowered his face to Obi-Wan's, staring into the young man's eyes with rapt adoration. "Now my beautiful little one, show me your pleasure." Obi-Wan stared back fearfully, eyes widening in sudden horrified understanding, as Rigel's huge hand wrapped around his lax genitals, massaging them gently.

No...No...Noooo! Obi-Wan screamed silently, as - impossibly - he felt his flesh begin to stiffen. Rigel seemed to sense his agonized disbelief. "You cannot fight it little one. The ale..." the scavenger smiled, "Your ale had Verusian spice in it."

Obi-Wan gazed at his tormentor - Verusian spice...a powerful aphrodisiac. Not a drug - his mind and body would still be his own - but it would heighten every nerve ending, making him an unwillinging participant in his own rape

Rigel watched him hungrily, "Come my lovely. Let me see your pleasure. I know you feel it." Obi-Wan gave a hoarse sob of denial, but he could feel it, twisting up from deep inside his belly. Serpent like it slithered through his body, coiling around his innards - an ice cold arousal. He wanted to fight it...he wanted to...but even as he pulled uselessly at the chains which bound him, Obi-Wan remembered the Doctor's words - Sweet. Stifling the revulsion which threatened to swamp his sanity, Obi-Wan tried to calm his mind; controlling his fear, harnessing it - mastering it.

"I..I'm sorry..Sire." Rigel frowned, the hand slowed a little. Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath. "I should...should not have asked..." The hand stopped. "The jacket, I should not..." Obi-Wan struggled to sort the words, his tongue felt clumsy in his mouth.

"You asked for the jacket?" Rigel snapped.

"Yes...I...I'm sorry Sire. I...I was cold." That at least was not a lie. Obi- Wan forced himself to meet the scavenger's one-eyed gaze.

After what seemed like an endless moment, Rigel nodded. "You are forgiven little one." Rigel's hand, still enclosed around Obi-Wan's hardened shaft, began to move again. Obi-Wan prayed he had done enough to divert Rigel's anger from Nezan. He closed his eyes as Rigel began to speed up his motions. "No! Open them!" Despairingly, Obi- Wan obeyed. "I want to see your eyes when I make you come little one. Now" - the scavenger's voice was husky with excitement - "come for me!."

Obi-Wan sobbed as he felt his climax building up through his body. There was no fierce passionate heat, only an unbearable bitter cold. With a cry of sheer despair his orgasm was ripped from him, a steady pulsating stream pouring out of his tortured flesh. Rigel hissed in pleasure, feeling the young man's hot seed gushing over his fingers; continuing to milk the boys sensitized flesh, even as Obi-Wan cried and whimpered, trying to twist away.

All Obi-Wan could feel was cold...even his seed was like ice, tearing through his body - encasing him in a frigid, glacial skin.

"Oh yess! My little one...My beautiful Obi-Wan!" Rigel gasped.

Obi-Wan began to whimper piteously; his heightened sensitivity making the friction against his spent flesh unbearably painful. Just when he thought he could bear it no longer, Rigel stopped. Obi-Wan's breath caught as his legs were roughly pushed up against his chest - fingers slick with his own seed, probing at the entrance to his body. Obi-Wan's whimpers died away - numbed into shock by what was happening to him....

Obi-Wan was released suddenly, as Rigel drew back to undress. The scavenger hurriedly throwing aside boots, shirt and breeches, hands shaking with excitement. Rigel's broad chest was smooth, one dark nipple pierced by a slender silver bar. A tattoo - like a black spider - scrolled across the scavenger's skin; the wide, black spirals snaking outwards across his ribs to curl around his back. Rigel snatched at something from the shelf by the bed, he uncorked it and the pungent odour of rich oil filled the air.

Obi-Wan shuddered violently, the smell of the oil jarring his mind back to another time...another place - a nightmare within a nightmare. A dark room in a back street tavern, stranger's voices discussing his price - a violation that had never happened. This time there would be no rescue. Qui-Gon would not come.

Almost mindless with fear, he watched the scavenger coating his massive erection with the oil. How could he bear this?! He tensed as Rigel moved back into position, wincing as his legs were again pushed painfully against his chest, knees drawn up. Shame burned into him, scalding his cold skin with scarlet flame. Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan forced himself to remain silent, as one thick, oil-coated digit pushed into him. He gagged, revulsion churning through him, as he felt the finger twist and turn inside him. A small hiss of pain escaped, as a second finger joined the first - opening him, readying him. A third finger - and Obi-Wan cried out.

"So tight," Rigel moaned in pleasure. "Oh, so exquisitely tight little one." The fingers pushed deeper, and Obi-Wan arched up gasping - a hot burning pain ripping through his abused flesh. The fingers withdrew, and he sank back - absorbing the dull throbbing ache.

Rigel was breathing heavily, the scavenger's whole body shaking with excitement. "Now little one. Now!" Obi-Wan felt his muscles spasm in screaming protest, as Rigel pushed his legs up even higher. Then he felt it - the hot, rigid length nudging at the entrance to his body.

"N-no" Obi-Wan sobbed in desperate protest, "Please n..no-"

With a grunt the scavenger shoved forwards, forcing the head past the tight ring of muscle. Sharp, white pain - splitting him. Obi-Wan thrashed against the bed, pulling frantically against his chains. Squirming, he tried to wrench away, but Rigel held him fast; the scavenger's own body weight pinning Obi-Wan's legs back. Rigel's hands gripped Obi-Wan's thighs savagely, bruising the tender flesh. Another grunt of effort and Rigel drove deeper - dragging a gurgled scream from the back of Obi-Wan's throat.

Sobbing, Obi-Wan struggled to breathe against the burning torment, but as Rigel began to move the agony intensified, white hot shards tearing into his body. Tears streamed down his face, stinging - choking. //Master....Master...Help me....!// Obi-Wan felt as though he were being torn apart; with each thrust it seemed the skin was being flayed from his body. Raw and bleeding, his screams faded into tearful groans as Rigel pounded into him - the scavenger's breathing speeding up as he neared his release. With a hoarse, triumphant cry Rigel came. As Obi-Wan felt the scavenger's seed gush into his body - the shadows rose up to claim him, and gratefully he plunged into icy nothingness.

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