Rating PG
Disclaimer: The characters and venue of Star Wars belongs to Lucas Films Limited. I receive no profit from this story or its distribution.

Oh, so slowly the darkness began to fade. Sounds filled the air. And then confusion followed. Gradually realization began to dawn. He slowly opened his eyes--the brightness was painful. Squinting against the glare, he tried to take in his surroundings in an effort to decipher what had happened. His aching head finally decided he had been unconscious.

Obi-Wan lifted his hands to his throbbing head. Each movement was excruciating. As he tried to push himself into a sitting position, waves of pain tore through his head, and nausea surged through his stomach. The dizziness was so intense Obi-Wan was almost unable to bring himself into a fully upright position. He closed his eyes to end the conflict between what his balance system was telling him and what his eyes saw. As he tried to inhale a great gulp of air, hoping to help settle his system, another stab of agony told him that he must have broken some ribs in--in whatever had happened to him.

What had happened? With great uncertainty, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes. His inwards seemed to be a little more in synch now and the dizziness, although still very much present, wasn't so overwhelming. Surveying his surroundings, he saw that a few feet away from him were the mangled remains of a landspeeder. At least now the torment his body kept reporting to him was explainable. All he needed to know now was how it had happened.

As the young Jedi apprentice dug into his memory for the explanation, he started when he realized that not only did he have no memory of the accident--he had no memory of before the accident. Obi-Wan didn't know where he was--or worse--who he was! Try as he might, he could bring no remembrance of his past to mind. It was as if his life started when he opened his eyes just moments ago.

He struggled to choke back the alarm that threatened to overwhelm him at this realization. I can't afford to panic now. I have to remain in control if I want to get out of this he told himself. The padawan decided that the first thing he ought to do was assess his well being after such a terrific crash. The head pain, dizziness, and nausea let him know that he had a concussion. And he hadn't forgotten the pain of the busted ribs. He gingerly ran a hand along each arm, checking for possible fractures. Even though he didn't find any obvious breaks, there was ample bruising, swelling, and abrasions. Repeating the procedure on each leg turned up similar findings. No breaks--but lots of evidence of the crash he had endured. That his injuries weren't worse was fortunate, Obi-Wan reminded himself. At least he wasn't incapacitated here in the middle of nowhere. Tearing strips from his tunic, he bound up the worst of his wounds to staunch the blood flow.

Dreading the agony he anticipated it would bring, Obi-Wan knew he would have to get to his feet. Unhurriedly, he began to lift himself up and tried to plant his feet firmly on the swaying ground. He knew it was he that was really swaying, not the ground, but the effects of the concussion were again doing battle with what his eyes perceived. As the vertigo and accompanying queasiness threatened to send him back to the ground, the tyro grabbed for a nearby tree, struggling to maintain his somewhat vertical position while his system attempted to orient itself. After several minutes and two more attempts, Obi-Wan managed to stand, still using the tree as a back-up balancing system. As painful as his efforts were, he was actually glad to have something to keep his mind off the frightening aspect of amnesia. After several more minutes, he was ready to take his first fledgling steps toward the wreck.

Having been so rudely occupied with his injuries and his amnesia, it had not occurred to the Jedi that there might have been someone traveling with him. This thought made him increase his pace to the craft. That was a mistake, but Obi-Wan's concern for another possible victim made him focus on that instead of his pain. On reaching the remains, it was obvious there was no one else in the transport. A quick survey of the surrounding terrain revealed no other victims either. The first good news Obi-Wan thought to himself. He poked around the leftovers of the craft to see if there was anything he could salvage.

Obi-Wan found a backpack filled with food and some supplies. There were a couple of water containers which, he was glad to see, were filled. He was very interested to find out if there was any sort of communication device--surely if he'd had the forethought to pack such generous supplies, he must have included some type of comm link. A short search turned up only the built-in one in the speeder--which was smashed. He continued his search for anything else of use and was about to turn away when a glimmer of metal caught his eye. Obi-Wan reached into the floor of the wreck and brought forth a metal cylinder with switches on it. He turned it over in his hands a couple of times and started to pitch it back in when a stab of hesitation hit him. There was something about the cylinder...something...but he couldn't remember what. It seemed to be important for some reason. Obi-Wan attached it to his belt, thinking to look at it later. He had no idea where he was or how far the nearest settlement might be. So he intended to find a place to rest and recover somewhat from his injuries for the night. Judging from the sun angle, he probably had a good 3 or 4 hours before dark set in--but he didn't know how far he would have to travel before he would find a sheltered place. Shouldering his burden was a very painful experience. The wounded Jedi wondered at his ability to carry the backpack with his injuries. He had little choice he realized. I'll just have to go slow and take frequent breaks he told himself. Beginning at a hobble he started down the road without another look at the rubble.

It only took a few short minutes before Obi-Wan was huffing and puffing. His head felt like it was about to explode and the nausea threatened to overflow. He stumbled to a rock to sit on--not wanting to have to fight his way back up from the ground a second time. Dropping the pack, he quickly gulped down some of the water, reminding himself to ration it since he had no clue as to when he would be able to renew the supply. I can't go on Obi-Wan had to admit to himself. His injuries were too acute for him to be able to travel, especially with the supplies he had to bring along. He began carefully scanning the area, looking for any place he could use for shelter. There were rocky, stubby hills on either side of the road he had been traveling. He looked for any opening in that rock. Some place he could crawl into to be sheltered from---he didn't know what. He didn't know what kind of creatures might be out at night, or what the weather would be like.

There! There, in that rock, just a short distance up a small hill. That dark area. Is that an opening? Obi-Wan grabbed the backpack and cautiously hauled himself up from the rock. This had better be shelter, he thought, I can't go on. He crossed the road and started the short ascent. However, in his condition, it may as well have been Olympus Mons. The 30 feet that he had to climb took him almost an hour. His body screamed in agony with each demand that he put on it. Each hand hold, each push against a rock with his foot was magnified through his traumatized body and sapped his already waning strength. He felt like bellowing out his frustration, but channeled that energy into his climb instead, promising his fatigued body that it would soon be able to rest.

Finally! Pushing the pack up on to the ledge, he hauled himself up and almost wept with joy to discover that it was indeed a cleft in the rock. He drug himself into the crack in the rock and almost immediately lost consciousness.

****

Qui-Gon Jinn leaned further over the comm panel as his brow furrowed into deep creases of concern.

"What do you mean, he isn't there yet? Obi-Wan left yesterday. He should have arrived later the same day."

"I know that Master Qui-Gon," the static almost drowned out the voice on the other end of the link. "He was scheduled to land in the afternoon but we never picked up a ship on our sensors, never had any communication from him."

Qui-Gon ran his fingers through his dark, close-cropped beard as he thought. I should never have let him go alone. "Very well, Chancellor," the Jedi Master tried to keep his voice calm. "I will end my business here on Coruscant and leave today rather than wait till tomorrow." He flipped a switch ending the communication without waiting for the administrator to respond. Sitting back in his chair, the venerable Master closed his eyes and called on the Force. He needed to find out what he could about where Obi-Wan might be. However, he could see nothing definite. He was reminded of what Yoda had once said, "Hard to see the future is. Always emotions." Even though he could see nothing, he could feel something was not right. There was something disrupting the normal smooth flow of the Force. Something was wrong, this much was clear.

Obi-Wan had left for the planet of Baroon yesterday. He and Qui-Gon were dispatched by the Jedi Council to go and consult with the ruler of the planet about a dispute with the neighboring planet of Loard. The Council had actually assigned them to leave in two days because Qui-Gon had a couple of loose ends to tie up from the last assignment that he had just completed for the Council. Obi-Wan was anxious to start on a new assignment and not content to play the waiting game. He convinced Qui-Gon to let him go on ahead and get a feel for things. It sounded harmless enough. The dispute had not escalated and there was little chance of trouble for Obi-Wan--or so Qui-Gon had thought. There wasn't a war, so the chances of anyone attacking his padawan were small. Surely Obi-Wan would have gone straight to Baroon. He wasn't irresponsible enough to go traipsing off on his own.

The Jedi thumbed another switch and waited for an acknowledgement.

"Yes, Qui-Gon," Yoda responded.

"Master, there is a problem."

"Yes, I have felt it. Your apprentice."

"Yes, Master Yoda. I have tried to see..."

Yoda cut him off. "Clouded it is. Nothing will we learn. To him you must go."

"Then I am released, Master?"

"Yes, at once. Go."

Qui-Gon never heard the word "go". As soon as Yoda had said "Yes", he had leaped from the chair and headed for the door. He pulled out his comm link as he hurried down the hallway and arranged for a ship to be ready at the dock when he arrived.

The small transport ship was indeed ready for departure by the time the Jedi Master sprinted through the doors of the docking bay. Without slowing Qui-Gon called out to the officer of the deck, "Is this the ship for passage to Baroon?"

"Yes," the O.D. called out as he turned to watch Qui-Gon rush by. "Excuse me, sir, but first I need your acknowledgement." The helpless official held out an electronic clipboard to the now empty space before him.

"Contact Yoda," Qui-Gon yelled back without looking over his shoulder. Bounding into the ship, he quickly strapped himself in and opened the communications channel to the glass enclosed control room, which overlooked the deck. Advising them of his departure, not asking for permission to take off, Qui-Gon left behind a confused and confounded docking bay crew.

Once away from the port, Qui-Gon took the time to calm himself. True enough, he was not behaving as a Jedi, definitely not in total control of his feelings but letting them get the better of him. A momentary lapse was excusable, as long as he didn't let his strong feelings take control of his reason. His concern was understandable enough. In training Obi-Wan, he had come to look on him as a son. The two had been through many hours of training. They had been in life and death situations more times than Qui-Gon cared to count. And they had exulted in the happy outcomes of bad situations--and mourned over the bad times as well. It was too much to ask, even of a Jedi, to go through so much without becoming attached to the padawan.

His hurry to get away he could justify. Time might be of the essence. However, now that he was absent from the bureaucracy of the docking bay, Qui-Gon knew he needed to recenter himself and bring his fervor under control. Otherwise he would not be able to draw on the Force effectively--and that wouldn't help him or Obi-Wan. Taking a moment, he sat back and collected himself and reached out to the Force to connect with it and feel the peace and well being it offered him. Slowly releasing a deep breath, the Jedi Master turned to the controls and prepared to make the jump to light speed which would take him to Baroon.

******