DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Auriga uncurled herself from where she had taken shelter during the battle, her mind still reeling. She didn't believe it. Somehow the Jedi had survived. He should have been killed, but instead he had defeated them. She was alone. Altos was gone...her allies were gone, perhaps never to return...and her government would soon find out what she had done. She hugged herself tightly as she began to shiver.
Wordlessly, she watched the Jedi topple over, hitting the stone floor hard, to lie unmoving on his back, blood streaming from the wounds he had received. She gazed at his body, unable to think, unable to move, then blinked as a shadow fell over him. She looked up...
...and saw a large bearded man in a brown cloak enter the hangar at a dead run, a laser sword in his hands. Another Jedi, her numbed mind supplied. He scanned the room quickly, breathing hard from the exertion of his run, and taking in the body lying on the floor...and her. He met her gaze for just an instant. Auriga went cold. The emotions beating from those eyes...they went beyond anger. Auriga froze, afraid to move, hoping only that the fury would not be unleashed on her...
Then the tall man looked away, as if dismissing her as a threat. He deactivated his sword and returned it to his belt then knelt beside the body of the first Jedi. He gently lifted the younger man by the shoulders, one arm going underneath to cradle his weight. With his other hand he reached back for the edge of the cloak he was wearing and wrapped it around the half-naked body, sharing his body heat, holding him closely. "Obi-Wan," the man said softly, the words both a question and a summons. So that was his name, Auriga thought distantly. Funny, she had never asked what it was...
The unconscious Jedi stirred slightly and moaned, as if the man's voice were calling him back from the darkness. For a moment, Auriga could see fear written in the lines of his body and he thrashed weakly in the other's arms, his eyes still closed, barely conscious. The large man touched him softly on the forehead. "It's all right, Padawan. I'm here. You're safe now."
The Jedi seemed to hear him, for he sighed and abruptly went limp, his head turning toward the other man's shoulder as if for protection or to hide from the rest of the world. Auriga suddenly noticed that there were tears running down her cheeks. Tears for the Jedi, tears for Altos...tears for everything she had done, and not done. She gave in to the sorrow then and cried as the large man gathered the other in his arms and stood. She watched them leave...and didn't look away until the other men appeared and escorted her from the hangar.
Qui-Gon barely felt his Apprentice's weight as he hastened through the corridors toward the ship waiting outside. He was much more concerned with the pallor of Obi-Wan's skin, the blood still flowing from his injuries, and the extreme coldness of his body. His Padawan was shivering helplessly, stirring weakly in his arms. The cloak Qui-Gon had wrapped around him was obviously not enough. Even as he hurried through the stone building, he could feel Obi- Wan sinking deeper into shock. Qui-Gon quickened his pace.
The Jedi Master rounded the final corner, glowering wordlessly as one of the Regaidian troopers who were swarming throughout the building got in his path. The offending man gave him a startled look then stepped hastily aside. Qui-Gon swept by without a word. He did not stop until he had reached the ship standing just outside the main entrance. And then he was hurtling up the ramp, calling to the two Jedi healers inside to follow him. He hastened into one of the empty cabins and deposited his Apprentice as carefully as he could on the empty bed. Without looking, he reached behind him and seized the closest healer by the wrist, pulling him toward the semi- conscious Padawan.
Only then did Qui-Gon step back. His chest was heaving from the exertion, he realized, and his muscles ached. He should use the Force, he knew, to augment his strength and banish the pain, but he couldn't. It didn't seem important enough to make the effort, just now. And besides, the rage and worry seething through him were making it difficult to think, let alone focus enough to reach the Force...
The healers were talking together, listing the Apprentice's injuries as they worked to stop the blood loss and treat his shock. The list made Qui-Gon go cold. A severe concussion, torn ligaments in the left knee, hairline fractures of the fibula, two broken ribs, second degree burns, and multiple bruises, contusions, and lacerations. "Obi-Wan," he thought in anguish. What have I done?"
Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly, guilt surging up inside him. He had thought the responsibility of a solo mission would calm his Padawan's youthful enthusiasm, just a little...had thought it would be good for him...but this... Obi-Wan had been so pleased with the assignment, so honoured that his Master trusted him that much. "I should never have sent you to Regaid alone..." Qui-Gon thought remorsefully.
Forty-eight hours. His Padawan had been lost to him for forty-eight hours. Qui-Gon had first known something was wrong when he had sensed Obi-Wan's fear, despite the distances between them. He had reached out with his mind...and staggered back under an incredible onslaught of pain. After he had hastily gathered his mental shields and wrestled the suffering down to a manageable level, he had reached out again...and felt nothing. Nothing at all. For the first time since he had taken Obi-Wan as his Padawan learner, he had not been able to sense his presence in his mind, try though he might.
Qui-Gon had immediately left what he was doing -- somewhere back on Galios there was no doubt a very angry Prime Minister -- and had taken the first ship he could find to Regaid, arranging with other Jedi to meet him there. But it had taken so long...too long?...to get there. The voyage had been agony for him, constantly trying to reach out to Obi-Wan through all the long hours, and constantly failing. Wondering if he would arrive too late...
Obi-Wan moaned and Qui-Gon's attention instantly returned to the three people before him. The first healer was straightening up, a look of frustration on her face. "Well?" Qui-Gon asked. "How...is he?" He braced himself inwardly.
"He won't let us in, he's fighting us." The healer shook her head. "How, I don't know. He should be unconscious, should be letting us help him, but...it's like..."
"What?" Qui-Gon resisted the impulse to reach out and shake the answer out of her. That would not help...
The other healer, an older Jedi with greying hair and a worn face turned to them. "I got into his mind for a few moments -- enough to see that he was tortured..." A pang went through Qui-Gon and, for a moment, his whole being was consumed by a fiery wall of anger that blazed through him. He fought it down, forcing himself to concentrate instead on the healer's words. "...he was tortured, by people who knew what they were doing. And, judging by what little I could sense from him, he was in a fight against... something. And he's still fighting. I think he thinks he's still in their hands. He won't trust us enough to let us help him."
As if to punctuate the man's words, Obi-Wan thrashed weakly. A wave of sheer power pushed against all three of them. Qui-Gon did not hesitate. Fighting against the untamed energies of the Force that were swirling around him, he crossed to his Padawan's side and knelt beside the bed, seizing the younger man by the shoulders. "Enough, Obi-Wan," he said urgently, projecting the thought into the Apprentice's mind at the same time. "It's over. You're safe now. Let us help you."
It was like throwing a stone into a maelstrom. Fear, panic, guilt, hatred, remorse...a hundred emotions swirled around him. He braced himself and tried to steady Obi- Wan's mind, calling to him silently.
It wasn't working. As the moments crawled by, Qui-Gon could feel his grip on reality loosening, could feel the half-trained power of his Padawan's mind dragging him into the vortex. He should pull back, he thought distantly. Let the healers try again...
He had already discarded the idea though -- he would not give up -- when, without warning, something in the darkness responded. "Master," it said, weakly, distantly. "Don't leave me..."
"I won't leave you Obi-Wan. I promise. But you have to trust me." Qui-Gon tried to inject his mental voice with the all the affection and love within him.
The chaos slowed, just a little. "Master?"
"Yes. I'm here. You can stop fighting now. I'll protect you."
There was an endless moment when nothing happened. Doubt and suspicion tumbled around him for what felt like an eternity...and then it was over. Qui-Gon was back in the ship, leaning over Obi-Wan. The Apprentice stiffened...then collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes fluttering shut and his entire body going limp. A shaft of fear went through the Jedi Master. He was so still... The two healers moved forward again, shoving Qui-Gon unceremoniously to one side as they worked hurriedly over the wounded Apprentice. And, for the first time in years, Qui-Gon found himself praying...to anyone or anything that might care to listen...
Hours passed. The small ship continued to race through the darkness, back to Coruscant, its engines straining.
Obi-Wan was still alive. That was the one thought that had sustained Qui-Gon through the long night. His Padawan had not died, although the healers had told him it had been a near thing. If Qui-Gon had not been able to get through to him, to allow them into his mind to start the healing process...
Qui-Gon's mind sheered away from the thought. He could not imagine losing Obi-Wan now...or ever. He had grown too close to him. For a moment, he allowed his thoughts to wander back to when they had first met. He had not wanted or needed another Apprentice then -- had fought against it with every fibre of his being, in fact. Somehow though, the boy had gotten under his defences, not giving up until the Jedi had finally taken him as his Padawan learner... almost against his own will. Qui-Gon's lips curled into a reluctant smile. If there was one thing he should have learned then, it was that Obi-Wan Kenobi was a fighter, and as tenacious as they come.
It was probably those traits which had saved him. Qui-Gon had managed to garner a little information while he stood his long vigil. The woman...Auriga...had been taken into custody by the Regaidian authorities and had confessed everything. Shockwaves were even now beginning to ripple through the Republic. Plague, mysterious creatures, secret alliances... Qui-Gon could only imagine the consternation that would shortly be felt in the Senate.
But none of that mattered. Not really. Not to him. Only the knowledge that his Padawan had almost died, and that it was his courage and fortitude that had averted a potential disaster, mattered. Somehow...Qui-Gon couldn't even begin to imagine how...the half-trained Apprentice had held off and defeated an enemy greater than any in living memory. And survived to tell the tale... He hoped.
Qui-Gon looked back down at Obi-Wan, who was sleeping fitfully. The worst of the injuries had been dealt with, but the rest - the effects of the torture he had endured, his damaged leg and ribs, the cuts and bruises, were all still there. The healers had stabilized him but could do little more until they were back on Coruscant. Qui-Gon sighed, glad that, for the moment, his Apprentice was unconscious. He would be in terrible pain when he awoke.
"He's still a boy, really," he thought, shifting in his chair. "Just turned eighteen, and already facing more than most men do in their lifetimes. Or most Jedi for that matter..."
The anger within Qui-Gon had burned away sometime during the night. A Jedi could not feel such hatred and fury, and still be a Jedi. And so he had tamed it and forced it to another place inside him, to somewhere where it could no longer control him. But that did not mean it was not still there...
Obi-Wane stirred and moaned, interrupting Qui-Gon's musings. The Jedi leaned forward and touched his forehead. "It's all right," he said softly. "No one can hurt you now."
As if he had heard, Obi-Wan's restless movements stilled and his breathing gradually became more even. Qui-Gon cautiously withdrew his hand and sat back, his thoughts turning inward once more. He couldn't shake the foreboding going through him. His Apprentice would survive, of that he had no doubt. But what of his mind...his soul? After what he had been through...how much of the Obi-Wan he knew would be left?
There was no answer, only the quiet of the room and the steady sound of Obi-Wan's breathing. Qui-Gon settled back in his chair to continue his long vigil...and to wait.
Terror. Pain. Eternal darkness. Obi-Wan was trapped in a nightmare labyrinth, unable to find his way back to the light. Memories swirled within him and he whimpered, trying to flee the creatures that were chasing him, the people that wanted to hurt him... "Master," he called out desperately, into the darkness. "Help me..."
"I'm here, Padawan." Ahead, a hand reached out for him.
He held back, suspecting a trick, yet one more deceit being played upon him. Around him, black fog swirled, forming tendrils that turned into whips. They cut into him, and he cried out.
"It's all right, Obi-Wan," the voice said. "They can't hurt you anymore. Trust me. Reach out with your feelings..."
Shuddering, wracked with pain and dread, Obi-Wan nevertheless did so, using the Force tentatively, as if he expected it to turn on him at any moment... He sensed a familiar presence. Master? And then he was rushing toward the voice as the darkness gave up its claim on him...
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was his Master, sitting in a chair close by. Qui-Gon looked terrible - haggard and exhausted, as if he had been awake for hours...or days. The Apprentice took a deep cautious breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs. At his movement, Qui-Gon leaned forward instantly, concern etched on his face. "Obi-Wan?"
"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice was hoarse he discovered, and speaking was difficult. Even that small effort had almost drained him. He blinked, gathering what small energies he had left...and his Master caught his right hand in both of his own, strength pouring from the older man into the Apprentice.
"Is that better?" Qui-Gon asked.
The action, combined with the genuine love and anxiety in Qui-Gon's voice was Obi-Wan's undoing. A wave of emotion poured through him -- relief, gratitude, anguish...and the overwhelming desire to burst into tears. He gulped. He would not embarrass himself or his Master like that. He. Would. Not.
"Nothing you could do would embarrass me, my Padawan," a warm voice said directly into his mind. "Nothing..." And then Qui-Gon was gathering him up into a sympathetic embrace, regardless of his injuries... The tears did come then. For what seemed like an eternity Obi-Wan poured out his emotions onto the shoulder of his Master while Qui-Gon's support and care flowed over him.
Finally, after a lifetime or two, Obi-Wan pulled away from the other man, sinking back onto the bed and flinching at the movement.
"Do you feel better now?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. Not really." He wiped an unsteady hand across his eyes as the memories crowded in on him again. His expression dimmed. He would have to tell Qui-Gon...what he had done...
Qui-Gon sensed his withdrawal. "What is it?"
The Apprentice shuddered and looked away. "Where...are we? He said, instead of answering the question. "What happened...after...?" His voice trailed off.
"We're on the way back to Coruscant. The woman...Auriga... is in custody on Regaid. I gather she's told them something about what happened, but both the Regaidian government and the Jedi Council will have a lot of questions for you, I'm afraid."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, unable to bear his Master's gaze on him any longer. Anguish and guilt ripped through him like blaster fire, destroying what little was left of his self-control. "I can't face them," he said, his voice muffled and broken. "Not after...what I did..."
"Look at me, Obi-Wan."
Reluctantly, fearfully, the Apprentice did.
"You need never fear the truth...or yourself." Qui-Gon touched his shoulder. "Tell me," he said simply.
And so he did.
The truth. He had told Qui-Gon everything, sparing himself nothing. And his Master had understood. There had been no recriminations, no blame...no disappointment. Obi-Wan didn't think he could have borne Qui-Gon's disappointment. But there had only been understanding and reassurance, that he was still a Padawan, still a good person...still Obi-Wan Kenobi. The darkness may have touched him, but it hadn't destroyed him, his Master had assured him. Every Jedi must face a challenge at some point in his life, Qui-Gon had said. And the Jedi's unending belief in his Padawan had flowed over Obi-Wan like a balm, soothing some of the hurts in his soul.
But not all of them. Nothing could heal them all. Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes. Images immediately leapt up before him, of the torture, the creatures...Altos. Shadows seemed to be hovering in the corners of his being and the fear that had never quite left him since his capture grew stronger.
"Reach out with your feelings." It was Qui-Gon's voice. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up at his Master, still sitting beside the bed.
"I'm afraid," he said in simple honesty.
"I know." Nothing else. No prompting, no expectations. Only patience.
Quelling a shudder, Obi-Wan did as his Master asked. He stretched out with his mind and touched the Force hesitantly, half-expecting to fail...or worse, to grasp instead the dark, shimmering energies he had drawn on earlier. The fear rose within him...
It was there. The Force. Warm. Light. Powerful. The same as it had always been. Obi-Wan pulled at it slightly, testing it...and himself, then reached out with his mind...
His Master. Close by. An island of calm and tranquility in the vortex of energies moving around them both. Obi-Wan could sense nothing but warmth and care emanating from him. The Apprentice breathed a mental sigh of relief, his battered spirit reviving a little more, and then he was questing outward, past the room, to the rest of the ship.
The healers. Other Jedi. Balance. Calm. Sanity. One of them sensed his touch, and the sense of welcome that flowed back along the energy line left Obi-Wan breathless. And there - further away, on distant planets. Life. Other Jedi. Light.
Family.
Obi-Wan allowed the power to melt away and fell back on the pillow, exhausted by the effort, but nevertheless somehow...stronger.
"Now do you feel better?" It was Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan paused to consider. Oddly enough, he did. Pain still wracked his body and just about everything hurt, from his toes to his eyelashes, but he did feel better. "Yes," he said, trying a careful smile. It was weak and tentative, as if he had forgotten how, but it was still a smile. "Thank you, Master."
"No, Obi-Wan. It was your courage, your bravery that saved you. And it will be your strength that will get you through this." Qui-Gon stood stiffly, easing cramped muscles. "Now rest. And heal. I will be with you when you awake."
Obi-Wan nodded, sleep already pulling at him. He heard Qui-Gon walk quietly from the room and leave, silence falling behind him. The Apprentice sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a long moment.
The darkness was still inside him, he realized. It probably always would be. But he had learned that he was stronger than it was. And he didn't fear it anymore. Now...now he just had to learn how to live in the light again.
This time when Obi-Wan closed his eyes, no nightmare images sprang up before him. The lingering shadows in his soul seemed to lighten, just a bit, and he surrendered himself...at last...to sleep.