Time: During the Naboo Crisis
Place: Tatooine
can't believe it, Anakin thought, huffing and puffing as he struggled to keep up with Qui-Gon. Maybe I've lost my mind; I've been out in the sun too long. Yeah, that must be it. There is absolutely no way I heard him right.
"Anakin! Keep up!"
He made a sour face at Qui-Gon's voice. Nope, he'd heard right after all. Apparently walking briskly -Anakin was already jogging- wasn't enough for the Jedi; he wanted to break out into a full on run. During the hottest part of the Tatooine day, in an area with sand that sucked at their ankles with every step, and with absolutely no shade in sight.
Yup, Anakin thought as he tightened his grip on his backpack and swallowed around his already parched throat. I've lost it. Too many podrace crashes. They've destroyed what little brains I might've had.
Then he was running, running as fast as his nine-year old legs could carry him in an attempt to keep up with the long-limbed Jedi Master. His pack slapped heavily against his back and he stumbled repeatedly when it threw him off balance. He made the mistake of throwing a hand out to catch himself and jerked back with a yelp; the sand was painfully hot. He was starting to feel it through the thin soles of his boots and the part of him that wasn't focused on surviving this little jaunt through the Wastes began to grumble about being better off with Watto.
No, he told himself, setting his jaw and slamming those mental doors before they could be fully opened. I promised Mom I wouldn't look back. So I'm not gonna. I've got to believe that we'll get to our destination soon. Qui-Gon's smart enough to realize it's crazy to be running out here and he wouldn't be doing it without good reason.
Any reason a powerful Jedi Master might have for running in this heat was reason enough for Anakin to be following, and as fast as possible.
His grumbling side settled, but not without one final burst of frustration when Anakin slipped again, the sand nearly scalding his bottom.
"You're doing well, Ani! Just a little further!"
Anakin drew a deep, hot breath at Qui-Gon's yell of encouragement, and another part of him flushed with pride from the simple words, which gave new strength to his aching legs. He skidded down another dune only to feel a rush of relief that they'd come to a relatively flat spot.
"Mister Qui-Gon, sir," he called, panting, "can we rest? I'm getting tired!"
"Not yet," the Jedi Master responded. "We're almost there. Can't you see the ship?"
Anakin's head snapped up at Qui-Gon's statement, his eyes combing the glaring horizon for any sign of their destination. He grinned sheepishly when his gaze finally landed on the gleaming spaceship; how in the world had he missed it? The silver surface shone brightly in the sun, practically beckoning him to hurry into its temperate interior and explore the mysterious depths of its cool shadows. He nearly stopped to stare and take in every possible detail, but momentum kept him moving and excitement flooded his veins.
"Wizard!" he whispered, forcing himself to run faster, despite the stitch that settled in his side and the sweat that poured down his forehead. That sleek, beautiful ship was his ticket off the forsaken rock of Tatooine, and no amount of fatigue was going to stop him now that he could almost taste his freedom.
Fate, it seemed, was determined to stall him.
"Anakin!"
Qui-Gon's shout made Anakin's head snap up, his attention instantly upon the Jedi Master.
"Drop!"
He obeyed without question, landing face-first in the sand just as a speeder bike of some kind raced overhead. The backwash tugged at his clothes, making him forget the burning heat he was pressed against, and he pushed himself up quickly.
His jaw dropped when a black-cloaked figure leapt from the speeder, a long, silver cylinder grasped in its right hand.
Why isn't that guy collapsing from the heat? Anakin wondered as a strange snap-hiss! echoed through the small area, and he gasped in wonder. Lightsabers! He'd never seen one in action before and…
They were awesome! He watched as Qui-Gon deftly repelled a blow that could've easily removed his head, the red and green blades hissing and spitting as they crossed. If this was what it meant to be a Jedi, to get to use one of those wizard weapons, then he absolutely had to be one!
"Anakin!"
Qui-Gon's shout once again brought him back to the present, his attention snapping to the older man. "Get to the ship! Tell them to take off!"
Anakin nodded, even though he knew Qui-Gon was too busy fending off the other Jedi to see it, and began a mad dash for the spaceship. Fear rose in his gut for a fleeting instant, a dark chill settling on his shoulders, and his racing-honed instincts screamed at him to move faster. He began to zigzag across the sand, cutting as unpredictable a path as possible, and found himself thankful for the warning when several laser bolts splashed near him. Did that dark figure have a blaster on top of a lightsaber?
Don't stop to look, you koochoo! he yelled at himself when he felt his feet slowing down. Just get inside! Then you'll be safe!
With one final burst of energy, he threw himself inside the waiting ship, breathing a sigh of relief.
But Fate wasn't done with him yet.
He cried out when he crashed headlong into something previously unseen. He went sprawling, landing on his back with a loud, painful crunch that he sincerely hoped wasn't his favorite model.
"Ow…" he muttered, adding a few choice words in Huttese while rubbing his forehead, which had hit whatever he'd run into.
"Are you all right?"
The smooth, precisely accented voice startled Anakin, and he found himself blinking up at a young man with short, ginger hair and clear, blue-green eyes. His overall appearance was odd, despite the way his clothes resembled something a poor moisture farmer might wear on Tatooine. Anakin assumed it was the long, thin braid that dangled by the young man's right ear, some of the many beads that decorated it shining in the artificial lights.
Jedi, something whispered, and Anakin gaped.
"You bumped into me in your haste to get onboard," the young man continued, and Anakin found the Jedi peering back at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm f…fine!" he said, finally gathering his wits. Still panting slightly, he pushed himself up. "But Qui-Gon, he's in trouble! He told me to tell you to take off!"
A light frown brushed the features of the young man, but he didn't argue. "You stay here. I'll relay your message."
With a flurry of a long brown robe, the young man vanished off into a hallway, which Anakin assumed led to the cockpit. A few moments later, the ship rumbled beneath him and Anakin rolled onto his stomach so that he could peer out at the desert.
He found that they were hovering a few meters off the ground and blinked when he saw flashes of red and green in the middle of a swirling sand cloud.
Qui-Gon! he thought with a brief flash of panic. Was the older Jedi all right? Was he holding out against his opponent? How was he planning on getting aboard, or were they going to take off and simply leave him to battle alone?
Blasted sand, I can't see a thing! he thought with a grumble, squinting as he watched the blades clash again and again in a whirlwind of movement, his fists clenching against the cool metal of the gangplank beneath him. He hated being helpless, but there was little he could do. What good would he be against that dark figure? Against someone fully trained with a lightsaber?
It was then he realized that they were moving closer, and he watched as the green blade broke away from the fight. He gasped slightly, anxious for Qui-Gon, and suddenly the Jedi Master was there, touching down on the gangplank. Anakin gasped again and rolled out of the way as the hatch began to close, hissing as it sealed shut.
Anakin stood then, only to leap forward to try and help the Jedi when he collapsed backwards.
"Mister Qui-Gon!"
"Don't… fuss," the Jedi Master said between pants, and Anakin frowned at the exhaustion he somehow sensed. "I'll be all right. Fighting in heat like that always takes something out of me."
"We shouldn't have run then. You probably would've fought better if we hadn't," Anakin said, shrugging his pack finally and searching for a water canteen he thought he'd added to his things, just in case.
"Perhaps," Qui-Gon said and smiled in thanks when Anakin passed him the small container. "Perhaps not. I'm alive, and that's what counts."
"So what was that thing?" he asked, kneeling beside Qui-Gon and biting his lower lip a little. "And why was it attacking us?"
"That's something everyone would like to know."
Anakin glanced up at the familiar voice to find that the young man had returned. He gave Anakin a small nod in greeting before kneeling on the other side of Qui-Gon, and he placed a hand on the Jedi Master's shoulder.
"Are you all right, Master?" the young man asked and Anakin blinked. Master? This young man wasn't a slave…
Was he?
No, Anakin told himself firmly. The Jedi were part of the Republic, and they outlawed slavery.
So then why had the young man called Qui-Gon 'Master' if he wasn't a slave?
Qui-Gon smiled in response, his deep blue eyes warm as he nodded. "I think so, padawan. That was quite a surprise though. One I doubt I'll forget."
Anakin found his frown deepening. Padawan? Was that the young man's name? It sounded more like a title…
"What was it?" the young man asked, repeating Anakin's question.
"I'm not sure," Qui-Gon responded. "But he was well trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is that he was after the queen."
The young man nodded in agreement. "They must've found a way to trace the transmission we received. There's no other way they could've located us."
Qui-Gon frowned a little and took another sip from the canteen. "But if he was trained in our ways then it is possible he could've tracked us through the Force," the Jedi Master mused, his eyes glazing over in thought, and Anakin noticed the young man had stiffened.
"What does this mean, Master? Could we have a traitor somewhere in the Temple?" the young man asked, a frown creasing his features, and Qui-Gon mirrored it when he processed the words.
"However unlikely it may seem, it is possible," the older man said with a sigh and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. Anakin watched as the young man squeezed Qui-Gon's shoulder, his frown giving way to a tight-lipped smile that radiated grim determination, and the older Jedi returned it.
"But are we safe?" Anakin finally asked, unable to keep silent any longer, and he watched both Jedi turn to look at him. Qui-Gon gave him a warm smile and nodded.
"Safe enough for now," the elder Jedi said as the young man sat back, and Anakin watched as he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "But I have no doubt he knows our destination."
"So what are we going to do about it?" Anakin asked and watched Qui-Gon blink at him in what must've been the Jedi equivalent of shock. He could feel the young man staring at him as well, and when Anakin spared a glance at him, he found the young Jedi watching him with raised eyebrows.
"We will be patient," Qui-Gon said with an amused yet pleased smile, a small laugh bubbling up from his throat. "And we will be cautious upon reaching Coruscant. In the meantime, Ana-"
A startled gasp from the young man made Qui-Gon cut himself off and his gaze snapped to the other rapidly. "Padawan? What's the matter?"
The young man didn't respond. Instead, he stared at Anakin with vacant eyes, his hands clasping his robe tightly. Anakin shifted uncomfortably under the stare, unsure of what was happening, and glanced at Qui-Gon for advice.
However, the Jedi Master's gaze was locked onto the young man, and Anakin watched as a stern frown worked its way across his features.
Qui-Gon sat up then and reached out, intending to touch the young man's shoulder. "Obi-Wan?" he asked and Anakin frowned inwardly. Was Obi-Wan the guy's name, or was it another title? It was certainly strange enough to be. "Obi-Wan, what's wrong? Are you having a vision?"
A vision?
Anakin turned his gaze back to the young man. Was he seeing something through the Force? Was that why his eyes looked so empty?
Qui-Gon touched the young man's shoulder gently and Anakin jumped when the Jedi jerked away with a startled gasp. His blue-green eyes focused and he collapsed on his side, his arms winding around himself. Shivers shook the young man's body and he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Obi-Wan, what in the world happened?" Qui-Gon asked and Anakin found the older man's gaze to be brimming with concern.
The young man blinked fuzzily and peered up at them, his brows furrowing in an almost-frown. Anakin fidgeted a little as the young man's gaze shifted to him and a small jolt went skittering down his spine.
Did something go wrong with the vision? he wondered and met the hazy blue-green gaze as best he could. But would a vision really mess his head up all that much? Don't Jedi have them all the time?
The young man was mouthing something, his eyes locked with Anakin's, and after a moment he pushed himself up and shook his head a little.
He reached out then, his hand stretching slowly towards Anakin, who frowned a little, but moved to meet the Jedi halfway.
The young man jerked before he could get very far. Anakin started in response, gasping, and watched as the Jedi collapsed.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon caught the young man and rolled him over, frowning deeply all the while. This time it seemed he'd fainted as his eyes were closed, and Anakin rubbed his upper arms vigorously for a moment, trying to stop the chills that were crawling over his skin.
Once they'd stopped, he crept the small distance between them so he could peer down at the Jedi.
"What happened? Is he all right?"
"I wish I knew, Ani," Qui-Gon said quietly, his gaze roving over the young man's face. "Obi-Wan is my apprentice and normally we have a deep bond that allows us to sense what ails the other. But…"
So his name was Obi-Wan. That cleared up one question that was lurking in the back of Anakin's mind. "It's not working?" he asked and Qui-Gon nodded as he brushed his fingers over the younger Jedi's forehead.
"Not at all. It hasn't been broken, only severely weakened somehow. I can barely sense Obi-Wan's shields."
"He has shields? Where?" Anakin asked, frowning, and Qui-Gon laughed a little.
"Not physical shields, Ani. Mental shields," he said before standing and scooping Obi-Wan's limp body into his arms. "I'm going to put him to bed, and then I'll explain all about them, all right?"
"Don't you want to clean up or something?" Anakin asked as he stood as well and went to grab his pack from the floor. "Or maybe reassure the crew that we're safe?"
Qui-Gon smiled at him as they started down a hallway. "I do need to speak with Queen Amidala, but I don't want to risk being away from Obi-Wan when he wakes. He might not be completely lucid, and I need to be there to help him, if I can."
"So you want me to talk to this queen then?" he guessed and Qui-Gon gave him a tight nod.
"You catch on quickly, Ani," he said and Anakin beamed. "Please inform her of what has occurred and send my regrets that I will be delayed in making my report. If she wishes to send a handmaiden to speak with me instead, please tell her she is welcome to do so."
"Will do, Mister Qui-Gon," he said, nodding to himself slightly. "Where do I find her?"
Obi-Wan burned.
His skin felt as though someone was trying to rip it off, to tear flesh from muscle, and flames licked up and down his body. He shuddered, trying to move his hands and beat back the fire, but he couldn't move. He was stuck writhing in pure agony, unable to wrest himself from his current position.
What had happened to the Force? Why wasn't it protecting him?
He cried out when searing pain erupted from his joints, and he could hear his skin hissing as it burned, a sick, crisped scent reaching his nostrils. Even though his lungs weren't working properly, he could still identify smells, and at that moment, he wished he couldn't. It was just another level of torture he couldn't seem to find his way out of.
-Obi-Wan!-
He jerked at the mental yell; someone was looking for him.
Who? Who would care about a failed, pathetic Jedi Master? Surely Yoda must have felt his death and would waste no one in looking for him.
Master Yoda…
The thought of the small master made Obi-Wan curl in on himself, memories of their parting flashing before his eyes.
"He is like my brother… I cannot do it." His voice was hoarse with grief, his hands trembling despite the way he'd clasped them together.
"Twisted by the dark side, young Skywalker has become," came the soft reply. "The boy you trained, gone he is...consumed by Darth Vader."
He lifted his head, meeting the green eyes that watched him with deep pity.
You ask the impossible! he wanted to scream. I cannot kill him! I will not kill him!
But the words refused to come.
"Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and find him, you will."
"No," he hissed, shutting out the thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell.
-Obi-Wan!-
Whoever was looking for him was certainly persistent. Perhaps it was Vader, come to finish what he had started, to stab Obi-Wan, cut off his head, dismember him, or do whatever he felt was necessary to kill his former Master. As it stood, there was little Obi-Wan could do to stop the Sith. He couldn't move; he couldn't breathe.
Maybe Vader had come to watch him die.
-Obi-Wan, what is going on? Why aren't you listening to me? Can't you hear me?-
His eyes snapped open, the gases around him stinging them and making him hallucinate. Instead of the darkness he expected, he saw a glowing light. The gleaming white made him wince, and two hazy, tan-colored figures came into view. When he tentatively identified them as people, he began to wonder what had happened. Had someone gotten him to a Med-Center? Was he getting treatment for his wounds?
-Padawan?-
Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. That presence brushing up against his shields, that familiar mental tap… his heart clenched painfully and he gasped. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Obi-Wan had watched him die, had held him in his final moments-
-Padawan, respond!-
Qui-Gon, his mind sobbed. The blessed, comforting presence of his Master had wrapped itself around him and he reached for it, greedily clinging to it with every shred of strength he still possessed. A jerk shook his wounded body and he gasped again, unable to stave off the pain. He then sensed his Master's deep concern and he felt tears wet his cheeks.
I'm safe, he thought as he closed his eyes, a comforting darkness rising up around him. The Force, it seemed, had decided to return. I'm finally safe...
He let the Force take him.