PART THREE:
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.
TBC...
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