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
Archive: Jedi Apprentice, Early Years & Qui-Gon Fic
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...
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.
TBC...
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