Title: Lost Light

By: Cassia

Email: cassia_a@hotmail.com

Category: Story, Drama, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Rating: PG (violence)

Spoilers: Minor ones for the JA books

Disclaimer: All recognizable Star Wars characters are the exclusive property of George Lucas. All others belong to me. I have no official permission to use these characters, but I'm not being paid for it either, so that's okay.

Feedback: Yes Please!

Time Frame: 10 years before TMP. Obi-Wan is 15.

Summary: What was supposed to be an investigative mission goes terribly awry, leaving Obi-Wan blind and Qui-Gon injured. Now the two handicapped Jedi must try to survive the harsh and brutal Drojan Death Camps while the fate of a planet hangs in the balance...

Lost Light

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****************

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

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

Obi-Wan restrained himself from punching something in
frustration. He should be able to do this! Hadn't he trained,
blindfolded, for enough years at the Temple to know how to
maneuver without sight?
*"Deceive you they can, trust your eyes, do not,"* he could still
hear Yoda say to him. Why couldn't he do it now, when it mattered
the most?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


************


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*"Thank you Padawan."*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

***************

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

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

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

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

"Workstation twelve sir," Obi-Wan replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

*Snap!*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****************

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

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

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

*"Where are you Master?"* Obi-Wan pleaded with the silence
around him. He felt utterly cut off and alone. Deserted. *"I
don't care what's happening, please Master, I don't want to be
alone here!"*
There was no answer. Obi-Wan wondered with a shiver if that
was because Qui-Gon could not answer him. With their bond
severed this way, Obi-Wan wondered if he would even be able to
tell if Qui-Gon died. Was that what he had felt earlier?
*"Please Master, if you're out there, answer me! Answer me!"*
Nothing. Only darkness and the screaming shriek of the despair
that enshrouded the camp like a cerecloth.

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

Obi-Wan was strong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One of them," Qui-Gon assented.

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

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

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

"Really," was all Qui-Gon said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?" Verjl turned back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The camps," Obi-Wan said softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


************

Obi-Wan rubbed his weary, useless eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's going to take all night!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****************


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan moaned softly without meaning to do so.

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

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

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

"Blind," Verjl echoed in disbelief.

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

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

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

"Kenobi sir. Obi-Wan Kenobi."

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

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

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

**************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sheena felt strangely choked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That important hm?" she said soberly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yours too Sheena."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sheena nodded brokenly.

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

***********

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

****************

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

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

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

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

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

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

*************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan went down with a cry.

************

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

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

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

*Obi-Wan!*

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

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

************

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

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

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

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

***********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan nearly screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

Never.

************

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*BLAM!*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sheena nodded slowly. She understood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******************
CONCLUSION:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Obi-Wan stirred. He was waking up.

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

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

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

"Master?" he asked groggily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow in dry amusement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END