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.
Qui-Gon's entire leg had gone numb, submerged in the icy dark water. He pushed back sudden fears at what might be lurking down there, and began to slip his hand in. He winced slightly as the water began to seep up his sleeve.
A sighing snort interupted him. He slowly turned his head, peering sideways at the sea monster.
The hideous, snakelike creature was letting its coils drop loose into the water from its stone ledge, a milky nictating membrane slipping over its glowing eyes. With a soft hiss, the head slipped down into the water with a faint splash and spray of bubbles.
Qui-Gon quickly pulled his leg and hand from the water, rubbing his palms together in a futile attempt to warm the numbed skin. For a moment, he waited for the snake to make a reappearance, but his own gasping breathing was the only sound to be heard in the murky cavern.
"Focus," he whispered to himself, sitting up and wiping some of the salt from his stinging eyes.
He steeled himself, slipped both legs into the brine and pushed himself into the water, hurriedly moving his shaking arms in circles to keep himself afloat. The cold sent his thawing leg into oblivious numbness again, and the rest of his body into the painful sensation that icicles were sticking through his skin.
As a sharp pain—hot, not cold—sliced into his shoulder, Qui-Gon quickly pulled his shirt open and peeled it away. Four ugly gashes, red and inflamed, marked his bluish shoulder. Fang marks, irritated by the salt.
He quickly pulled it shut over the wounds and continued his clumsy attempts to swim. His vision had cleared enough for him to see a multi-level wall of small caves, just below a larger passage that seemed to go up. Perhaps it had once been a colony for some Callinon animal—before this monstrosity had moved in.
He pulled himself onto the slimy ledge, his numb hands gripping the smooth edge with a strength born of desperation. As he pulied his dripping iegs over the edge, he felt himself sliding downward. He groped at the edge, but slid down too fast, fingers clawing.
He slammed into a boulder, sending reddish flares of agony sparkling before his eyes. Ignoring the increasingly painful feeling that his arm was going to fall off, Qui-Gon gripped the rock and puiled himself into a sitting position.
And came face-to-face with a skull.
The day was sunny and mild, a cool sea breeze starting to lift some of the moisture from Obi-Wan's wet garments. The blue sky and pale gray ocean gave no indication that there had been any storm the previous night. Seabirds coasted above, giving their raucous cries as the bedraggled little group emerged from the caves.
The Seaspray was exactly where it had been the night before, gaping holes and scrapes marring its blue hull. Glusher made an indeterminate noise that might have been grief, or anger, or disgust.
Obi-Wan swayed a little, keeping his eyes open by sheer strength of will. He had only had a few hours of rest the night before, and without Qui-Gon there... he felt like he could sleep for a week.
He shook himself. He had work to do. "Glusher!" Obi-Wan called, stumbling down the uneven rocks toward where the Callinon was ieaning against the prow, running his webbed brownish hands over the blue paint. "How bad is it?"
Glusher gave him a scathing look.
"Can it be made seaworthy?" Obi-Wan tried again.
"She," Glusher interjected morosely.
Obi-Wan felt his brows rise a little in confusion. Had this all chaos sent Glusher over the edge? "What?"
"'She,' not 'it,"' Glusher repeated, more forcefully. "Call the Seaspray 'she."'
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, shook his head, and decided not to argue. "Okay, can SHE be made seaworthy again?"
"Probably," Glusher replied depressedly, looking back at the hull and stroking it a little. "Least enough to get us to port."
"Great," Obi-Wan replied without much enthusiasm, glancing at one of the huge holes in the side, the size of a door. Myia was cautiously venturing in, up to her ankles in water that had ieaked in during the night, her red eyes glancing back and forth for possible threats.
Only one missing, he thought. "Tr'rok!" Obi-Wan bellowed, spinning to squint up at the cave entrance. "What are you doing?"
The dark band of the insectoid castaway appeared amid the gray rocks, most of his jewels stripped away during the storm. Obi-Wan couidn't see what he had, but there was a loud crunch and slurp. "Shellfish!" Tr'rok cried joyfully. "Clinging to rocks!"
Obi-Wan repressed a shudder and called, "The shellfish won't be going anywhere. Get down here and help Myla bail water out, while Glusher and I repair the hull and antigrav engines!"
Tr'rok made an angry chirping noise, but began to slither down on his many legs.
Five hours later, Obi-Wan surveyed their progress. The giant holes were partially repaired, the patches cannibalized from bunks, tables, chairs, anything with metal or wood. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing, he decided, but it might be waterproof.
Myla, stripped of the robe he had lent her, was carrying huge buckets of water from inside the ragged ship, stumbling as she strode down the beach to pour it onto the sand. Obi-Wan's respect for the Twi'lek woman was rising rapidly. Tr'rok, however, was inhaling water and spraying a thin jet of it out the portholes. It wasn't much, but it was better than no help at all, Obi-Wan decided. Glusher was running a small scanner over the hastily-concocted hodgepodge of patches, searching for possible ieaks or weak spots.
Obi-Wan took in a deep breath of the sea air, closed his eyes, and for what seemed like the thousandth time, tried to reach out to Qui-Gon. He thought he felt something, but it feit like something was clouding his way, rolling over his aching brain. He pulled back, frustrated at his inability to conquer his own exhaustion.
Some Jedi I am, he thought morosely. I can't even contact him through the Force.
His thoughts were dashed to pieces as he heard a low rumble beneath him, sending a few pebbles skittering. He looked up, horror dawning on him, as Myla tottered into knee-deep water and began pouring her bucket's contents into the water. "Myla..." he called haltingly.
Myla looked back at him and flicked one of her headtails behind her bare blue shoulder. "What?" she called back questioningly.
The rumble faded. "Run!" Obi-Wan finished in a shout, springing off the rocks and down to the beach.
As if on cue, a huge, snakelike creature erupted from the water beside Myla, its white-red mouth gaping, its red eyes flaming as it dove down at her. She screamed as its long, glistening fangs locked onto her leg and threw her to the ground, leaving a smear of blood on the stone where her shoulder had been. She uttered another bloodcurdling shriek as it began to drag her into the water.
Obi-Wan's lightsaber was in his hand and activated, a blue bar of iight as he leaped down to the sea monster. He dashed the lightsaber towards its neck, catching a glancing blow as its fish-scaled neck twisted aside in surprise.
The creature released Myla, uttered a roar of rage and pain, and quickly sank below the waves.