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.
For a moment, Obi-Wan stood on the cold, wet sand. Then the lightsaber fell from his hands as he sprinted forward, through the shallow water.
Myla was curled up in the surf, sobbing and scrabbling at the water, soaking through her skimpy golden outfit. As Obi-Wan curled his arms around her and began to drag her heavily back to the sand, he felt something warm and thick seeping through his fingers. Daring a look at her leg, he felt a wave of shock go through him at the sight of four ugly red slashes in the blue skin. They were deep, and bleeding badly, sending dark rivulets down to the water.
As he carried her along, a stab of pain hit his side, making him stagger and almost fall. Myla was as large as he, and a little heavier. As his sodden boots touched dry sand, he gently but quickly lowered the terrified Twi'lek to it and examined the fang marks in her leg.
Tr'rok was curled into a tight, chitinous ball not far away, terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought. Glusher was climbing down the ragged blue hull of the Seaspray, jumping the last few feet and running to Obi-Wan's side. "What happen?" he shouted.
Obi-Wan called back without looking at him, "It was the thing that attacked Master Qui-Gon..." Myla's hands had turned almost white with the death grip on his shoulder, more of terror than the pain.
Obi-Wan wiped a little of the blood from the fang-marks and grimaced. They were deep, but didn't seem to be bleeding much. "You'll be okay."
As he slowly rose to his feet, feeling strained muscles in his arms and back twinge sharply, he said sternly, "Glusher, continue work on this side of the Seaspray. Myla, rest for a while. When you feel like you can work again, be careful not to go into the water. I'll work on the outer edge, in case that thing comes back."
"Yes," Myla agreed shakily, curling up her good leg in an effort to rise, wobbly but stronger now.
"Mhhrssmm," Glusher mumbled.
Obi-Wan glanced at the small dark ball on the sand and sighed. He poked it with a finger. "And will someone uncurl Tr'rok?"
Qui-Gon slid back against the slippery stone wall automatically, his breath coming fast and sharply with fright. The skull grinned almost cheerfully at him, empty eye sockets staring like twin black holes.
A few moments passed, and the initial flight-or-fight response wore off, leaving Qui-Gon slightly dizzy. Oh, that was impressive, he chided himself, a little angry. You were scared out of your wits by a skull.
As the fright wore off, a faint nausea began to replace it. Biting down on his distaste and growing sickness, Qui-Gon dropped to his knees and picked up the skull with both hands, shaking a little. It was clean, dry, completely stripped of flesh. He shuddered a little and put it carefully back down.
As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light of the worn stone pit, he saw to his disgust and horror that the skull was not alone. Bones were piled in the middle, carefully stacked. Thick ones, thin ones, ranging from gray to pearly white. And more skulls. The sharp-toothed skull of a Wookiee, the rounder skulls of humans, and a vast array of Callinon skulls, thick and neckless.
Qui-Gon slid back instinctively, staring at the gruesome mound. Then he slowly closed his eyes and forced himself to step toward them, feeling his stomach roil in protest to the idea of actually touching them.
He dropped to his knees on the slick stone and began to pick up the skulls from the pile, hands shaking a little as he stared at their smooth white surfaces, at the staring eyeholes and grinning teeth. Bones slipped from the mound, hailing on him like a grisly hail and bouncing into crevices with peculiar crunches. He forced himself to ignore it, forced himself to keep looking.
I hope that Caspo and Chumba appreciate this little gesture, he thought wryly.
With a clatter, one stack of bones slid down next to him, and another skull grinned up at him. Thick and wider than it was tall, a few scraps of silky cloth still clung to him. Rubossian. Qui-Gon steeled himself and plucked the cloth from the skull, examined it. Lady Chumba, he thought queasily. So... this is where they are, he thought with a dark chuckle to himself. That disturbed him more than anything else.
Glurrrrrwrrr....
He shot to his feet, heart pounding wildly. A stream of bubbles was rising to the top of the dark water, heralding the creature that was soon to follow.
Qui-Gon took a step back, pressing his body against the rock face. One hand went to his belt, and he remembered with a stab of horror that his lightsaber was still up in the caves, where he had set it to dry.
There was a soft ripple in the black water, splashing a little in the middle. Qui-Gon's gut tightened as the slick, snakelike head slid from the water, fishy eyes flickering over the dark walls. As its coils writhed up onto the smooth platform, the diamond-shaped head on those muscular coils shot up. All-seeing eyes flashed
Qui-Gon dropped into a crouch, but he knew it. It saw me...
An unearthly screech echoed through the cave. Qui-Gon began to feel through the darkness, and winced as something cut at his fingers. Sharp... He grasped th object tightly, ignoring the tiny stabs in his hands, and waited.
It struck him like an earthquake incarnate, slamming him against the wall. Qui-Gon uttered a strangled noise, arching his back against the huge head that was crushing his chest. Only inches from his face, baleful red eyes stared like twin rubies.
He struck without thought, the pointed bone in his hand burying itself in the monster's neck. A gout of warm liquid streamed over his hand and forearm, the aroma of dead fish exploding through the cavern. There was a shriek of pain and rage, and the pressure was gone...
Qui-Gon fell heavily to his clenched fists and knees, forehead almost touching the rock face. Stars exploded in front of his face, fluttering in time with the pounding of his heart in his ears. Distantly, he saw the eyes in the dark, narrowed and staring furiously at him. They bobbed, growing in size....
Without hesitation, he hurled the razorlike bone fragment at the space between those eyes. There was another scream, like a demon being tortured, and the eyes began to weave back and forth, turning from rubies into red streaks.
Qui-Gon scrambled out of the pit, his feet and hands slipping from the slimy handholds. As he reached the top, he hurled himself into the water...
For a moment, he flailed in the icy water, senses numbed momentarily by the iciness of it. Then he swam...
The tunnel was lightless, like a dark spiral. Qui-Gon's lungs were beginning to burn as he swam, long strokes augmented by the Force.
His mind raced over the people he had left in the caverns... Obi-Wan. Chumba and Caspo are gone... Glusher. Myla. Tr'rok. Assuming... assuming that when it was out... it didn't attack them... A cold dread stole over his heart at the thought of what might have happened...
His swimming faltered as something behind him send a wave of water, pushing him further down the tunnel. The creature. It was coming.
The sea breeze sent a chill up Obi-Wan's spine.
The Seaspray had been repaired. Sort of. The blue hull was patched with pieces of tables, bunks, chairs, and whatever scrap had been lying in the hold, giving it the air of a freighter about to fall apart at the seams. But she was seaworthy...
Tr'rok and Myla were belowdecks, plugging leaks as they were sprung. Glusher was piloting the pathetic craft, leaving Obi-Wan alone... save his thoughts.
He felt a tiny warm drop slip from his eye as the dark, rocky shore started to retreat. There was still no trace of Qui-Gon, no indication of where he was or what had happened to the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder, at the dark bundle by the door to the dining area. His robe and lightsaber.
The coast was slowly easing away...
A stream of bubbles in the water caught Obi-Wan's attention. He leaned forward, reaching out with the Force. Master? he whispered, not daring it to be true.
There was a huge surge in the Force, as something erupted from the water onto the shore, crumpling onto the sand. A tall man, with beige clothing and long brown hair.
Obi-Wan screamed, "Master! We're over here!" The boat rocked suddenly...
Qui-Gon couldn't see, couldn't hear. Water filled his eyes and ears, making the world a roaring blur. He scrambled onto the sand, towards the cave mouth...
"Master! We're over here!" Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon spun to see a blue speck on the horizen. The Seaspray, patched and badly damaged, but floating away from the island. As he watched, it began to turn toward him.
"No!" he shouted, waving it away from the shore. "Get away from here! No!"
"Glusher, turn around!" Obi-Wan shouted, hammering his fists on the pilot cabin's door. "Qui-Gon is on the shore! We need to turn this wreck around! Glusher!"
"Turn around?" Glusher asked incredulously, voice muffled by the door between them. "We go to all the trouble to leave island, and then we go back?"
"Yes!" Obi-Wan shouted. There was a slight lurch, and the ship began to turn around, the shore growing in size before him. He could hear Qui-Gon shouting something, but he couldn't make out the words, only that he was terrified... for the people on the Seaspray...
Only then did Obi-Wan see a diamond-shaped head lurking just below the surface, and a pair of red eyes looking up at him malevolently.