Lostandfound3

Title: Lost and Found (Part Three)
Author: Kat

*****

Obi-Wan lay awake, listening to Qui-Gon's steady breathing on the other side of the bed, his thoughts in turmoil. It seemed impossible that Qui-Gon was here. Impossible. And yet, somehow he *was* here.

Over the last four months, Obi-Wan had slowly but surely given up hope of ever being rescued. He and the others were doubtless presumed dead by the Agri-Corps, and they would duly have informed the Temple, who would have broken the news to his friends. There was no reason for anyone to think that he might be alive, and thus no reason to look for him. And so, forcing himself to be logical, he had accepted that no one would be coming for him.

He had then entertained the thought of trying to escape, but he knew it was unlikely to succeed. What with the slave collar, which had a tracking device, the explosive implant that had been placed in his body somewhere, and the blasted Force-inhibiting collar, he wouldn't get far. And even if he managed to get the collars off and the implant out, he was many hundreds of kilometers from civilization. Even with his Jedi training he couldn't make it that far without supplies.

Besides, the tarn wolves would probably get him before he even made it past the forest.

As the true hopelessness of his situation had become clear to him, the stubborn determination that had previously aided him had finally, reluctantly, quit on him.

That stubborn streak had helped him to survive his capture and subsequent enslavement, the distress of the Force-inhibiting collar, the indignity of being sold at auction like an animal, even all the nightmarish humiliation and abuse he had suffered at the hands of Gatt and his buyers, but it seemed it had finally run out. And without it, he had simply lost hope. The added misery of the Force-inhibiting collar meant that he couldn't even call on the Force for comfort, and before long, the only emotions he felt were despair and a dull, tired hopelessness that overrode everything else.

When Gatt took a sudden interest in him a few weeks later, Obi-Wan found he could hardly summon up the energy to care. He just kept his mouth shut and tried to give Gatt as few reasons as possible to abuse him.

A small part of him had thought that perhaps the very best thing he could do would be to make Gatt angry enough to kill him - it had happened before; if Gatt was angry enough he no longer cared about valuable merchandise, just about snuffing the life out of the object of his rage. But to give up in such a manner went against everything he had ever been taught.

He didn't know why he even cared about his training anymore - perhaps it was merely reflex. But for whatever reason, he found he could not simply throw his life away. Gatt would lose interest eventually - he always did - and then...then, he didn't know.

But he knew he didn't want to die.
So he had gone on, day by day, drifting further and further into a strange combination of numbness and quiet despair. He allowed Gatt to use him for whatever twisted purposes he wished without putting up a fight, telling himself that it was easier that way, easier not to fight; fighting just meant pain and humiliation and more of Gatt's detestable version of "training".

He had almost begun to forget that his life had ever been anything *but* this. The memories he had of the Jedi Temple seemed hazy and distant, like a dream. At times, he wondered if perhaps they were.

Until he came face to face with a man who brought all his memories flooding back with crystal clarity.

When he had first looked up and seen that Gatt's newest buyer was in fact Qui-Gon Jinn, he had thought he must be imagining things. But there was no mistaking it; even though Qui-Gon looked very different to how Obi-Wan remembered him, it was most definitely him. The horrified recognition in Qui-Gon's eyes had been merely confirmation.

Qui-Gon had managed to school his expression and Obi-Wan had done the same, realizing that whatever Qui-Gon was doing here, he was clearly undercover. He had managed to keep a semblance of calm, but he couldn't help but feel a sharp stab of humiliation at having Qui-Gon witness him groveling at Gatt's feet.

Then he had screwed up; his nerves had got the better of him and he had spilled Gatt's drink while pouring it. The resulting blow had knocked him flying, and he had thought he felt a pulse of anger from Qui-Gon, but the Force-collar made it so hazy and indistinct that he couldn't be sure. After a moment, he had crept back to Gatt's feet, knowing that it would be much worse if he didn't.

Then Gatt had sent him down to Qui-Gon, telling the Jedi that he was going to offer him his pick of slaves for the night, and Obi-Wan had known at once that Qui-Gon would select him, if only to find out how he had got here. He wasn't looking forward to relating the tale, especially not to Qui-Gon, but what could he do? Tell Gatt he didn't want to go? Not likely.

As he expected, Qui-Gon had feigned interest in him, and the next thing he knew he was being shunted off to Qui-Gon's rooms. Once they were safely away from the housekeeping droid, the resulting conversation between them had gone pretty much as Obi-Wan expected, except for one thing: Qui-Gon had promised he would get him out of here.

For some strange reason, Obi-Wan had not even considered that possibility. He wondered if it was simple self-preservation; his subconscious trying to protect him from getting his hopes up. It seemed likely. He knew Qui-Gon, after all, and knew that although the man didn't think much of him he would never willingly leave Obi-Wan in slavery.

But for all Qui-Gon's obvious sincerity, Obi-Wan had a great deal of trouble believing that he might, just *might* have been saved. /Self-preservation again,/ he thought with a sigh. /Stupid subconscious./

To take the focus off himself, he had asked about Qui-Gon's mission, and was not terribly surprised to find out that Gatt was dealing in stolen Republic weaponry. But when he realised that Qui-Gon was going to try to find out sensitive information, information that probably only Gatt and maybe a few of his men would know, he knew he had to do something. Qui-Gon had no idea how tight the security was in this place. If he tried to sneak around, he would surely be caught, Jedi powers or no. No Jedi could mind-trick a whole complex full of people, most of which were armed and very suspicious.
Then an idea had come to him, almost startling in the fact that it made him feel almost...*hopeful* again. Perhaps, just perhaps, Qui-Gon would let him help. After all, he could get into Gatt's rooms, and into his computer as well. Gatt was careful, but he tended to ignore slaves unless they angered him, and it had been easy for Obi-Wan to surreptitiously watch the first time he was present when Gatt entered his password. With his Jedi training, he was able to follow the flurry of keystrokes and work out what the password was.

He had thought perhaps it might come in handy, in the days when he was still holding out hope of escaping. Eventually, he had given up that hope, but for some reason, he had continued to watch for Gatt's password every time he got the opportunity. It had given him something to do, at least. But whatever the reason, the fact remained that he did know the password, and although he could tell it to Qui-Gon, he could get into Gatt's rooms a lot more easily that Qui-Gon could. So perhaps, just *perhaps*, Qui-Gon would let him help.

He had made the offer tentatively, and was more than a little surprised when Qui-Gon accepted.

And now here he was, lying in the darkness, desperately trying to deal with this new sense of purpose, spurred on by an emotion he had thought well and truly lost to him.

Hope.

He listened to Qui-Gon's quiet breathing for a few minutes, trying to focus his thoughts. It was hard, since he was not able to use the Force, but he was grateful that at least he could still *feel* it. If he had been entirely cut off from it, he was not sure he would have been able to bear it.

/There's not really much I can do except go forward,/ he thought finally. /I have offered to help him, and I will try to do that. And maybe...maybe he will be able to help me. Maybe it is possible. I don't know...but I guess I can hope./

With that, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax. No doubt he would need all the strength he could get for what was coming.

*****

When Qui-Gon woke the next morning, the room was already beginning to lighten. He glanced over at the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. He could hear the sound of the shower running in the 'fresher and was a little surprised that Obi-Wan had managed to get up without waking him. Apparently his senses didn't register Obi-Wan as a threat.

A few minutes later the boy appeared, wrapped in a towel and rubbing a second one over his damp hair. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I was awake. I thought I might as well get up."

"Nothing to apologise for," Qui-Gon said reassuringly. He slipped quietly past the boy into the fresher to take his own shower, thinking that Obi-Wan might appreciate the privacy.

By the time he came out, Obi-Wan was fully dressed, his still-damp hair combed neatly back from his forehead. He looked terribly young, and Qui-Gon felt a flicker of unease at the danger he might be sending the boy into.

/He will be all right,/ he told himself. /He's strong, and resourceful. He wouldn't have made it this far if he wasn't. And after this is all over, I'm getting him out of here and Gatt will *never* touch him again!/

He was a little surprised at the intensity of his emotions. He was feeling fiercely protective of Obi-Wan, and the very thought of Gatt getting his hands on the boy made him grit his teeth in anger. Breathing deeply, Qui-Gon glanced over at the boy as he finished getting dressed. "Any idea what will happen today?"

Obi-Wan met his gaze, his green eyes serious. "Gatt will send someone to take you to get your ship. He'll probably have me come see him while you're doing that. It would be good if you put in a request with the housekeeping droid to have me for tomorrow night as well - that way I can come back here if I find out anything."

"All right, I'll do that." Qui-Gon hesitated, looking at the boy. "Obi-Wan...remember what I said. Please be careful."

"I will. Don't worry, I don't want to tangle with Gatt if I can help it."

Qui-Gon nodded, but he still felt uneasy. If he had a choice, he would have made a run for it now and taken Obi-Wan with him, mission or no mission. Unfortunately, duty had to come first.

He sighed. "Well, we might as well see if we can get some breakfast," he said, opening the bedroom door and waving Obi-Wan through it, then following him out.

As he walked out into the main room, the little astromech droid beeped indignantly at him. He glanced down at the computer terminal and raised an eyebrow."That's not very friendly," he said sternly to the droid. It chirped smugly and he decided to ignore it.

The housekeeping droid appeared from the kitchen a moment later. "Would you like breakfast, sir?" it asked.

"Yes, for two," Qui-Gon said, indicating Obi-Wan, who had gone back into slave mode; remaining silent and keeping his eyes down. The droid inclined its head and glided back into the kitchen.

During breakfast, the droid came back to inform Qui-Gon that Gatt was sending someone to take him to fetch his ship. It also relayed to Obi-Wan that Gatt wanted him to come to his rooms once Qui-Gon had left. Qui-Gon chipped in here and requested Obi-Wan's company for tonight as well, and the droid relayed that message to Gatt.

/All going to plan so far,/ Qui-Gon thought. /So why do I feel like something's going to go wrong?/

Shortly after breakfast, there was a chime at the door, and it slid open a moment later to reveal the human driver who had brought Qui-Gon here originally.

"I'm supposed to take you back to get your ship," he said gruffly. "You ready?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said, rising to his feet. Obi-Wan did the same, and slid silently over to the door, ducking around the man to go through it. He turned briefly, meeting Qui-Gon's eyes for a moment, then vanished off down the corridor, no doubt heading for Gatt's rooms.

Qui-Gon sent a heartfelt plea to the Force to keep Obi-Wan safe, then turned to follow the other man as he led the way out into the hallway, the door swishing shut behind them.
"I'm Pharl," the man said shortly, as they strode down the hall.

"Quinn," Qui-Gon replied in kind, trying to keep things friendly.

Pharl nodded briefly, and the rest of the walk passed in silence as they made their way back down to the ground level and through the entrance hall. As they came through the main doors, Qui-Gon saw a speeder waiting for them at the bottom of the front steps. Pharl climbed into the driver's seat, and Qui-Gon jumped in beside him. A moment later they were off, speeding back in the direction of Qui-Gon's ship.

The journey back to the ship passed much the way the journey from it had, except that this time it was daylight, so Qui-Gon could see his surroundings better. The driver made no attempt to initiate conversation, and Qui-Gon followed his example, instead occupying himself with watching the terrain flying past them.

Some three hours later, they pulled up next to Qui-Gon's ship, and he was relieved to see that it looked exactly as it had when he'd left it. Pulling the computer terminal off his belt, he entered a command, and the ship's ramp began to lower.

Pharl handed him a datapad with a printout of coordinates on the screen. "That's the coordinates of the house, just in case," he said. "There's a landing field out behind it; you'll see it from the air easy. Park yourself there, and someone will meet you."

"All right," Qui-Gon said, climbing out of the speeder. "Thanks for the ride."

Pharl nodded to him, then turned the speeder back around and roared off, puffing up dust in great clouds.

Qui-Gon walked quickly up the ramp into the ship. Once inside, he went straight to the cockpit and began powering up the engines. The familiar hum of the ship's engines filled the cockpit, and he ran a quick systems check to make sure everything was functional. Once he was satisfied, he programmed the coordinates he'd been given into the ship's computer. A few minutes later he was lifting off, heading for Gatt's compound.

The journey was much shorter by air, and soon Qui-Gon was hovering above Gatt's landing field. He had not seen it before, hidden as it was at the rear of the complex, nestled in beside the mountain. The landing field was fairly sizeable, and was empty except for one smaller and much newer looking cargo ship. There were several large buildings ringed around the field, however, which could well have contained other ships.

Qui-Gon brought the ship down smoothly in a clear area, and powered the engines down. He got up from the pilot's chair and walked quickly down to the small medical bay in the rear of the ship. Once there, he snatched up a medical scanner and a small laser-scalpel, concealing them carefully in a pocket inside his jacket. After a moment, he grabbed a couple of tubes of bacta and placed them in the pocket too.

/That should be enough to get that blasted implant out, in a pinch,/ he thought. He had been considering the logistics of taking Obi-Wan with him, and removing the explosive implant was top priority. /I'll have to do that tonight, I think. I don't want to have to do it in a rush./

Walking back to the main hatch, he lowered the ramp and walked down onto the paved ground, looking up at the sky. It was past midday now. He wondered where Obi-Wan was, and tried to suppress the anxiety he felt. Obi-Wan would be all right. He had to be.
Another man approached as he reached the bottom of the ramp. "Tel-Gon?" he questioned, and Qui-Gon nodded. "Everything OK with your ship?"

"Yes, it's fine."

"Then I'm supposed to take you back to your room. If you want anything, or want to do anything, tell your droid and it'll have someone come to escort you."

"All right," Qui-Gon acquiesced, and followed the other man as he led the way back into the main compound. /Obi-Wan was right, the security is tight,/ he thought grimly. Clearly he was not going to be allowed to do anything unattended except sit in his quarters. Any time he had been outside his rooms, he had been escorted and closely watched. Nothing too intrusive, but he was sure that any attempt to sneak away would be immediately noticed.

/It seems Obi-Wan may be the only one who can find out what I need to know,/ he thought. /It must be the will of the Force./

He winced a little at that, putting all that Obi-Wan had suffered down to the will of the Force, but he was a Jedi. If he stopped believing in the will of the Force, what else was left?

He was escorted back to his rooms, and the housekeeping droid informed him that Obi-Wan would be sent back to attend him that evening. If he wanted anything else, he had only to ask for it.

Feeling the need to get some exercise, if only to distract himself from his persistent concern for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon asked if it would be possible for him to take a walk outside. The droid paused for a moment, apparently relaying information, then nodded. "Someone will be sent shortly to escort you, sir," it told him.

True to the droid's word, there was a chime at the door about fifteen minutes later, and it slid open to reveal a young man dressed in the uniform of Gatt's guards. "I'm Tev," he said. "You wanted to take a walk?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said. "I'd appreciate the exercise."

"Bored, huh? Don't blame you. Come with me, I'll take you for a hike up into the mountains. There's a good trek that only takes a few hours."

Feeling that it might be useful to see a bit more of the surrounding area - surely more useful than it would be to sit in his quarters and wait for Obi-Wan to come back - Qui-Gon nodded in agreement, and followed Tev out the door.

*****

After he had left Qui-Gon's rooms that morning, Obi-Wan had hurried straight to Gatt's suite, knowing better than to keep the man waiting. The guards outside Gatt's rooms had recognised him and let him pass, and he had pressed the chime on Gatt's door. The door slid open a moment later and he walked in, taking care to keep his eyes down.

Gatt was seated at the computer station, pressing keys in a flurry of motion and muttering darkly under his breath. He was clearly not happy about something, and Obi-Wan's heart sank. When Gatt was like this - which was fairly frequently - it spelled bad news for anyone unlucky enough to be in his vicinity.

Quickly, he hurried over to Gatt and knelt at his feet, hoping that such a display of submission might cool Gatt's temper a little. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't, you could never tell with Gatt.

/That's because he's crazier than a sewer rat on spice,/ Obi-Wan thought grimly. /I'd better watch myself if I don't want to make him angry./

He remained kneeling for several minutes before Gatt acknowledged him. That acknowledgment came in the form of a sharp slap across the face that rocked him back on his heels, wincing.

/Random violence,/ Obi-Wan thought unhappily. /Great, he's in one of *those* moods./

"It seemed you pleased my buyer, boy," Gatt said. He sounded almost calm, but Obi-Wan could hear the hint of madness beneath. "He's asked for you again tonight. You must not have been too obnoxious. Did you behave yourself?"

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan said softly, trying to sound fearful. Gatt loved fear. It wasn't hard to do, either.

"Good. It seems you are learning after all. Now go get me a drink, and be quick about it!"

Obi-Wan scurried off to the bar and poured Gatt a glass of the beverage he favoured. /Please, just get drunk enough to ignore me,/ he prayed. /Either that, or drunk enough to pass out./

He placed the glass on the desk beside Gatt and knelt on the floor again, keeping his eyes down, trying to be as inoffensive as possible.

Some six hours later, he was still kneeling in the same spot, calling on every patience mantra he knew to keep from fidgeting. Gatt had not budged from his workstation once since Obi-Wan had arrived, tapping furiously at the keyboard almost the entire time. He had wanted Gatt to ignore him, but now that he was,Obi-Wan was finding it rather hard to bear.

It wasn't like he hadn't done this before - Gatt liked having a slave around to do his bidding, but sometimes he would get caught up in whatever it was he was doing and forget about the slave for hours at a time. Obi-Wan had been in that position multiple times since Gatt had taken an interest in him. However, all those previous times he had been so blanketed by despair that he hardly cared where he was. He had just tried to be as quiet and still as he could be so as to earn himself less punishment. After all, it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be.

But now, with his mind buzzing with this new sense of purpose, it was taking all of his willpower to keep still. He had...Force, he had a *mission*. And more than that, he had *hope*. He was almost giddy at the very thought of it.

Gatt suddenly let out an inarticulate growl of fury, slamming his hand down hard on the desk, and Obi-Wan jumped, feeling a thrill of adrenaline waltz through his system. Apparently all was not well in the world of Gatt's business dealings. A moment later, Gatt shoved his chair back and got up to pace the room, muttering angrily to himself.

/Damn,/ Obi-Wan thought nervously, watching the man pace. /This isn't good./
Gatt suddenly turned and strode off into the bedroom that adjoined his main office area, calling roughly to Obi-Wan to follow him. Obi-Wan shut his eyes for a moment. He knew what such a summons would entail.

Steeling himself, he got slowly to his feet, wincing as his stiff knees protested the movement. He tried to work some of the tingling out of them as he followed Gatt into the bedroom. Once inside, he went quickly across to where Gatt was sitting on the bed and knelt once again, trying not to grimace as his sore knees met the floor.

Gatt reached down and tilted Obi-Wan's face up so that the boy had to meet his eyes. "You're still pretty, boy," he said, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "Part of why I picked you in the first place. But it was that stubborn look on your face that really clinched it. You just *begged* to be broken."

He ran a hand over Obi-Wan's hair, smoothing it back from his face. A moment later that hand lifted and came down in a brutal backhanded slap, knocking Obi-Wan to the floor.

Obi-Wan lay there, gasping, momentarily stunned by the blow. As he pushed himself slowly back to his knees, he was beyond surprised to realize that there were tears in his eyes.

He had become used to being struck; Gatt was notoriously unstable and violent with it, as well as sadistic. But while before Obi-Wan had been able to bury any distress about his treatment under a fog of numbness, now his emotions seemed to have suddenly come back online. He was hit with a sudden wave of anger at the undeserved blow, and tears of pain and frustration were the direct result. Blinking them back, fighting for calm, he forced himself to stay on his knees, his head lowered.

He heard Gatt give a snort of laughter and gritted his teeth. /I hate you!/ he thought furiously. /I *hate* you!/

Gatt's hand found his hair again, stroking, then moved around to caress his cheek. The hand lifted again, preparing for another blow, and Obi-Wan reacted without thinking. As Gatt brought his hand down, he ducked out of the way, rolling to his feet a few metres away from the bed.

He stood, staring across at Gatt, his eyes wide. Oh Force, what had he done?

Gatt glared at him for a long moment, his pale eyes snapping fire. Then he rose silently to his feet and began to advance on the boy.

Obi-Wan took a step backwards, feeling a jolt of real fear. In this kind of mood, Gatt had been known to kill slaves who disobeyed him, and ducking out of the way of a blow almost certainly counted as disobedience in Gatt's book.

"It seems you haven't learned quite as much as I thought, have you, boy?" Gatt said grimly, the words hissing off his tongue like acid. "I haven't quite managed to beat all of that stubbornness out of you. It would appear," he bared his teeth in a vicious parody of a grin, "that you need another lesson in how to behave."

Obi-Wan backed up even further, truly frightened now. He had never seen Gatt look quite this insane before. He wanted to run - but where could he go? The guards would catch him before he even made it down the hall.

Gatt suddenly leapt forward - for all his size he could move with the quickness of a striking snake - and slapped Obi-Wan brutally across the face, sending the boy reeling. He did not even have time to pick himself up before Gatt was on him, dragging him to his feet with an iron grip on one arm.

The hand flashed down again, backhand this time, and Obi-Wan's head snapped sideways with the blow. He staggered, but Gatt's grip on his arm kept him upright.

Gatt dragged him across the room, stopping under a fixture in the ceiling from which there dangled a long metal rope with a set of binders on the end. He yanked on the cord and it slid easily downwards. A moment later he had locked the binders around Obi-Wan's wrists.

Gatt strode away to the wall and punched a button on the keypad there, and the rope retracted back into the ceiling, pulling Obi-Wan up onto his toes. Gatt halted the mechanism when Obi-Wan was standing on tiptoe, barely able to touch the floor, then came back to circle around him.

Obi-Wan hung there, trembling, sick with fear and dread. If only he could use the Force! If only, if only...

But he couldn't. There was no escape from this.

Gatt walked back over to the bed and pulled something from the cabinet beside it. Obi-Wan blanched at the sight of the whip Gatt produced, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest. Desperately trying to get a handle on the terror coursing through him, he reached out frantically for the Force, praying that if he couldn't use it to defend himself, he could at least ground himself in it and try to remain strong through what was coming.

The Force slipped nebulously through his mind, sliding away from his frantic mental clutching, and he almost wept.

/Qui-Gon,/ he thought suddenly, fiercely. /Think of Qui-Gon. He will get you out of here. He promised. You just have to survive this. He *promised*!/

The terror ebbed, just a little, but enough for him to find a small measure of calm. He reached out to the Force again, praying silently for guidance, and felt the soothing wave of it break over him, muted, but there.

/Oh, thank you. Thank you./

He couldn't use it, but he could feel it. It would have to be enough.

His grip on the Force didn't stop him from whimpering as the first blow scorched its way across his shoulders, but it allowed him to keep hoping. And as the blows fell, one after another until he was screaming in agony, he held onto that hope, and carried it with him when he finally fainted.

***End Part Three***