Title: Five Deaths to Die
By: Cassia
Email: cassia_a@hotmail.com
Category: Angst, Drama, Adventure, H/C, character torture... Did I mention ANGST?
Rating: PG 13 (violence, death)
Archive: Jedi Apprentice, Early Years & Quigonfic
Spoilers: Minor ones for the JA books
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: 7 years before TMP. Obi-Wan is 18.

Summary: An enemy from Qui-Gon's past threatens to ruin his future. With Obi-Wan's life at stake,
Qui-Gon must try to end the time-continuum he finds them both stuck in before it's too late. Will he
succeed, or will he find himself facing a tomorrow without his Padawan?

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!!!!!
ANGST ALERT! This story is a MAJOR tear-jerker. At least, I think so. I wrote parts of it with tears
streaming down my face if that's any indication... (pathetic, yes, I know)
It involves character torture and death (no, I'm not going to tell you if they STAY dead, you'll have to
read and find out for yourself). but if this would in anyway upset, depress or generally bum you out,
stop now. Otherwise...
                                                                     *******
 

The street was alive with the bustle of people as Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi
crossed the busy intersection on the designated crosswalk, headed for the Malti-Venba Embassy.
Separated slightly by the press of the crowd, Qui-Gon reached the other side first and turned to wait
for his Padawan, who was only about halfway across, to catch up.

Suddenly, the desperate shriek of a warning horn split the air and Qui-Gon watched his life fall apart
before his eyes.

The pedestrians scattered in terror from the street as a huge, out-of-control public transport barreled
down the middle of the road, headed right for the intersection. Both Jedi were taken completely by
surprise. They had felt no warning, no indication of what was coming. A sudden dread washed over
Qui-Gon, but it all unfolded too fast for him to move, think, or even breathe.

Obi-Wan shoved the lady next to him, throwing her clear, and then intended to jump out of the way
himself, but something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

It was barely a second from the time the wailing blast sounded to the instant it was upon the crosswalk,
but it should have been enough time for a Jedi, it should have, if everything were right, but all was not
right. For a split instant Qui-Gon saw a look of confusion and alarm spread across his apprentice's face
as something actually froze Obi-Wan in place, delaying him from action for that critical split-instant until it
was too late.

The Transport streaked through the intersection, plowing through everything in its path, including
Obi-Wan, before smashing into the side of a building on the other side of the street.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon cried out in horror, his legs in motion before the Transport had even finished its
disastrous course across the intersection.

The impact had knocked the eighteen-year-old Jedi halfway across the street.

Qui-Gon knelt beside his Padawan. "Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan!" he said in soft alarm. For a moment he hesitated
to touch the boy, not wanting to do more damage by moving the apprentice before he was stabilized.
But when Obi-Wan murmured Qui-Gon's name, reaching out weakly towards him, Qui-Gon threw caution to
the wind and pulled the injured Padawan into his lap, holding Obi-Wan gently in his arms. The readings
Qui-Gon was getting through the Force about Obi-Wan's injuries filled the Master's heart with dread as
he cradled the young man close.

Obi-Wan gazed up at Qui-Gon with shocked, pain-filled eyes. "Master," he whispered softly, his crushed
chest impeding his ability to speak. "I don't understand... I-I couldn't move..."

"Shh, shh," Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's hair gently, cupping the apprentice's head in his hand. "It'll be
okay, the medi-teams are on their way," he tried to sooth, pouring strength into his Padawan's failing
body. But Obi- Wan's body was like a sieve, and his life was draining away too fast to stop.

"I'm going to die, aren't I Master?" Obi-Wan whispered softly as the realization of his own injuries
pressed in upon him.

"No!" Qui-Gon shook his head, tears in his eyes because he could not believe his own words. "No,
Obi-Wan! You're going to be all right, it's going to be all right!"

Obi-Wan smiled faintly and shook his head as much as his injuries allowed. "You've never lied to me
before Master," he gasped as his lungs shut down. "Don't start now."

"Your focus determines your reality Padawan," Qui-Gon said, his voice thick. "You cannot die, you
cannot!"

"There is no death," Obi-Wan said faintly, his eyes beginning to glaze. "There is the Force... I'm sorry,
Maste...r," Obi-Wan's voice trailed away and his eyes closed in eternal sleep as his spirit fled away from
his broken body.

"No! No!" Qui-Gon hugged Obi-Wan's lifeless body to his chest, but it was no good. He could not recall
Obi- Wan's spirit. It had fled beyond the grave and he would not see the boy again until he too, became
one with the Force.

The sirens of the medi-team wailed, announcing their approach. The lights on their vehicles flashed red
as emergency workers poured out of the doors, but Qui-Gon did not notice. He did not register the
motion and noise around him; it was all unreal, like a dream. But it was no dream; it was a waking
nightmare.

Obi-Wan was gone. Qui-Gon felt as if a huge piece of his heart had just been ripped out of his chest,
leaving a gaping hole inside him, the sheer emptiness of which threatened to crush him.

The medi-teams gently tried to take Obi-Wan's body, but Qui-Gon would not let go, so they moved on to
help the other victims who could still be saved.

Qui-Gon was reeling in shock. This was all wrong! All wrong! It should not have happened, he felt sure of
that. It was not just his need to deny the reality of the tragedy that had just taken place that made him
feel so either. Something deep inside was telling Qui-Gon that this was all terribly wrong. It was not
supposed to happen. After all the dangers they had faced together, all the life-threatening situations
they had survived, to lose the boy this way, so pointlessly, was devastating.

"Sir, we can't leave him here in the street, I'm sorry sir, I'm very sorry," the young paramedic was saying
to Qui-Gon, once more trying to get him to relinquish Obi- Wan's body.

Numbly, Qui-Gon let go, let them take the shell that had been his Padawan only a few short minutes ago.
He rose to his feet, amazed that he remembered how to do so.

Qui-Gon stood still in the middle of the street, life rushed by about him, but he seemed to have lost his
grip on the flow of it all and it passed him by too fast to comprehend. He felt numb with grief and was
not sure what he was doing or where he was going.

"You seem lost Master Jinn," a deep voice made him turn. It spoke softly, but there was no compassion
in its tone. "Could it be that you now see how painful it is to lose someone you care for?"

Qui-Gon found himself facing the shadowy figure of a tall man in a dark, hooded cape. At least, it was
shaped like a man, but he could not see the fellow's face under the hood. The presence seemed
vaguely familiar to Qui-Gon, but he did not know why, and was in no mood to ponder riddles.

"What are you talking about? Who are you?" Qui-Gon asked, somewhat sharply. "How do you know who I
am?"

"We've never met before," the being said. "But I've watched you for many years Qui-Gon Jinn. It should
not be so hard to figure out, I am a Dacca, and how many Dacca's have you ever encountered? Come
now, don't tell me you've forgotten Aminorthini? It's unseemly to kill someone and then forget all about
it," bitter hatred seeped into the being's tone.

*Dacca, Aminorthini...* Qui-Gon's brow furrowed deeply. That was so long ago it took him a few
moments to remember. Then it came back to him. Aminorthini, a green little planet in the Rim Territories.
He had not been there in over thirty years, but he remembered what had happened there well enough.
He had lost his best friend on Aminorthini.

"Yes, you see? You do remember," the being said with cold satisfaction. "My name is Rylos, offspring of
Benthon, whom you murdered Jedi."

Rylos' voice brought the memories rushing back to Qui- Gon. Benthon and apparently Rylos as well, were
of a rare, but extremely powerful race called the Dacca. They had abilities and powers beyond what
even the Jedi had ever seen. Dacca had no male or female, but when they were ready, they bore a
single offspring. Knowing their great power was above that of most mortals; they had strict rules about
interference with other sentient life and for this reason were rarely, if ever, seen. Benthon was a
renegade who did not agree with the Dacca rules. He saw no reason why he could not use his great
power for his own gain. He was the only Dacca Qui-Gon had ever encountered, and the memory was
entirely evil.

Aminorthini was Qui-Gon's very first mission after he became a Knight, which is why he had been paired
with Muuli, who was also a new Knight. They had been best of friends during their Temple, and Padawan
days and both thought it wonderful that they should share their first mission together. It would also be
Muuli's last.

No one had known that an evil Dacca was causing the problems on Aminorthini, and by the time the Jedi
found out, it was too late. There was a confrontation and Muuli was killed. Qui-Gon had faced the
greatest challenge of his life that day in overcoming the deep desire for revenge that burned inside him
because of his friend's death. Yet in spite of it all, Qui-Gon had conquered his hate and subdued the
Dacca by tricking Benthon into using his own power against himself. But Benthon did not want to be
sent back to his own people for justice and had turned on Qui- Gon at the last moment, forcing the
young Knight to defend himself and kill the evil Dacca.

Qui-Gon had grieved for a long time for Muuli, but he had thought that that whole, terrible episode was
ancient history, until now, when it came back to haunt and hurt him all over again.

"I did not murder Benthon, Rylos. He tried to kill me and I defended myself," Qui-Gon shook his head, still
trying to figure out the connection between that and what had happened today.

"You lie Jedi," Rylos hissed darkly. "My parent would never have done such a thing! You were mistaken
about him, but even after you knew the truth, you still killed him out of vengeance, murdered in cold
blood while he was your prisoner! And after you murdered him, you spread your filthy lies about him to
cover yourself and sullied his name until it may not even be spoken among my people! For this, I swore
my revenge," Rylos' voice sunk low and menacing. "I swore that someday you would hurt the way you
made me hurt, I just wanted you to know that Jinn. Wanted you to know *why*."

All at once it made terrible sense to the Jedi Master. "You did this," Qui-Gon breathed, suddenly finding
his air very short. "You kept Obi-Wan from being able to get out of the way in time!"

He still could not see Rylos face, but he got the distinct impression of a satisfied smirk from the Dacca.
Incredible rage welled up in Qui-Gon's heart. He tamped the anger down, but the pain remained,
threatening to choke the life out of him.

"You speak of murder Rylos, but you have killed an innocent boy today!" Qui-Gon seethed. "Obi-Wan had
nothing to do with any of this, he was not even born yet when it took place! If you wanted to punish me,
why hurt him?!"

"Because it hurts you worse this way. He was the closest thing you have to a son and by Dacca law I
may claim his life to pay your debt. Blood for blood Jedi," Rylos hissed with evil satisfaction.

"Blood?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice dangerously low. "You have blood all right Rylos, blood of the innocent!
It stains your hands like a curse! What does Dacca law say about that? What does Dacca law say about
interfering in the lives of other sentients not on your level?!"

"It is justified," Rylos' voice was tight. "But I am not unfair Jedi, you say you want the boy spared? I'm
going to give you a chance, no, five chances, which is more than you gave Benthon, and more than you
deserve! You're going to live this day five times, this was day one. I'm going to give you four more
chances to relive these last 24 hours; the outcome of it depends on you. If you can change the way this
day ends, I will renounce my claim to the boy's blood and leave you in peace. Save him if you can! If you
cannot, if you fail, then when the sun sets on the fifth day, whatever has happened, will be fact, and will
be the way it stands for all eternity.

This is for you alone to know, the boy must know nothing of what has passed between us or it is all
forfeit. Four tries Qui-Gon Jinn, four more tries..." Rylos' voice faded away and he vanished with it, like
grey mist blown on the wind, leaving Qui-Gon alone under the shadow of the skyscrapers.
 
 
 

DAY TWO:

Qui-Gon sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Next to him, in the bed against the far wall, he felt Obi-Wan's
sleeping presence. Sliding quickly out of bed Qui-Gon crossed the room, laying his hand on Obi-Wan's
shoulder to assure himself that the young Jedi was really there. Last night, when he had finally drifted
into a troubled, fitful sleep, Obi-Wan had been dead, but this morning, here he was, sleeping soundly.

Qui-Gon realized that, true to his word, Rylos was giving him the day to do all over again. Qui-Gon's hand
tightened on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He would not let his apprentice fall prey to the Dacca's twisted sense
of justice again.

The motion woke Obi-Wan up. The teenager rolled over, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a yawn.
"Master?" he asked, slightly blearily. Obi-Wan was not a morning person, well, not if he didn't have to be
anyway. "Time to get up already?"

Qui-Gon nodded, his heart tightening at the familiar sound of his apprentice's voice, one which he had
thought lost to him forever. "Yes, Obi-Wan. Get dressed. I am calling a service-driver to take us to the
Embassy."

"I thought we were going to walk," Obi-Wan said, rolling out of bed and stumbling over to the 'fresher.

"I've decided we'll take a cab," Qui-Gon said quietly.

"You'll hear no complaints from me," Obi-Wan flashed Qui-Gon a bright-eyed I'm-still-waking-up smile
before disappearing into the bathroom.

The cab ride was uneventful, except that Qui-Gon insisted, much to Obi-Wan's puzzlement, that they
take a roundabout route to get to the Embassy, avoiding the main street.

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked as he held the door for Qui- Gon to get out. "Forgive me, but you seem
disturbed, or distracted, is anything wrong?"

"We must be attentive Padawan. We must be careful," was all Qui-Gon said. They had avoided the
situation of yesterday, but Qui-Gon was wary. It had been too easy and Qui-Gon doubted that Rylos
intended to let him off so simply.

"Yes, Master, of course," Obi-Wan nodded. He was still puzzled, but he attributed Qui-Gon's concern to
the volatile situation they were walking into here at the Embassy, as well as to the fact that they had
had to relinquish their lightsabers because no weapons were allowed within two miles of the Embassy,
especially not today.

Today, the Malti-Venba Government was holding a huge commencement to officiate the new order that
had been created on the planet. The new order rose up from a stained history of brutal warfare and
genocide, promising freedom from the brutalities of the past. However, it did not rise unopposed. Since
it's formation six months ago, the leaders had been assailed with threats from dissenters who did not
want to see democracy come to Malti-Venba. The situation had grown so serious, that they had finally
called on the Jedi to oversee their commencement celebration. If ever there was going to be a terrorist
strike, it would be now.

Qui-Gon knew it was both dangerous and yet vital that with such a threat, no one carry weapons of any
sort into the Embassy today. He had tried to see if he could have their lightsabers excepted, but was
refused because the new leaders said that they must not show special treatment to anyone, they had
just fought a war against an old régime who had done so unjustly and the wounds were too fresh.

As concerned as Qui-Gon was about keeping Obi-Wan safe, he could not neglect their duties. They must
go to the Embassy today, and they must go unarmed.

Side by side, the two Jedi headed up the steps of the huge Embassy building. Nearby, the Governor's
personal hover-car pulled up and the soon-to-be-appointed head of state got out.

Above them, on the roof, two Venbian dissenters lay flat on their stomachs, long-range blaster rifles
pointed down at the stairs below. One of them set their sights on the Governor.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both felt the prick of warning an instant before the shot was fired. Grabbing the
Governor, Qui-Gon pulled him down, making the shot miss its mark. The Jedi sorely missed his lightsaber.

At the same instant the second sniper fired. This one was not off mark and the blast headed straight
for the middle of the big Jedi's back, even as Qui-Gon pulled the Governor down. Qui-Gon felt it coming,
but not in enough time to change direction.

"Master!" Obi-Wan cried, leaping in front of Qui-Gon and pushing him out of the way at the last moment.
The shot caught the young Jedi directly between the shoulder blades instead, throwing him forward.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted in anguished horror as his apprentice crumpled to the ground and rolled
down the stairs, landing in a sprawl at the bottom.

The Governor's guard's opened fire on the roof, driving the sniper's heads down. Dozens of security
officers hurried to take charge of the Statesman, ushering him safely into the building while Qui-Gon
rushed down the stairs, three at a time, to Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, taking his apprentice's hands in his. He knew the boy had only
moments left. *"You shouldn't have done it Obi-Wan!"* he cried in his heart. *"Why did you have to be
so noble?"*

Not for the world however, would Qui-Gon taint Obi- Wan's last moments with any word of reprove, it
was the same thing he would have done anyway if positions were reversed, so the Master just held the
young Jedi's hands tightly, feeling the pain of loss all over again.

"Are you all right Master?" Obi-Wan asked faintly, his eyes closing.

"I'm all right Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice cracking despite himself. It was hard to believe that this
could hurt so much again. This was what Rylos had meant. It was not going to happen the same way
each time, only the outcome was the same.

"Good," Obi-Wan murmured. "Good..." the young man shuddered slightly and his hand slid out of his
Master's.

It was quicker this time, but no less heartbreaking.

Qui-Gon knew that, just like this morning, Obi-Wan would be alive once more tomorrow morning, that was
the way that Rylos had set it up, but even that knowledge did not soften the pain of watching his
Padawan die again.

The attack and Obi-Wan's death shook the confidence of the Malti-Venbian leaders and the ceremony
was postponed until the following day. Qui-Gon took the news in grim silence. It mattered little to him,
because this day had not really happened. Tomorrow, he would live it all over again. Only he would not
fail Obi-Wan again. He was going to do whatever it took, but he would not let this happen again.
 
 
 
 
 

                                                                   *******
 

DAY THREE:

"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice dragged Qui-Gon up from his exhausted sleep. "Master?"

Qui-Gon awoke with a start, still seated in the chair he had sat down in last night before he apparently
fell asleep. He had meant to wait up, he wanted to see what exactly happened when the clock struck
midnight and the day started over again, but he had not been able to stay up, whether because of his
emotionally drained state, or because Rylos would not let him, he did not know.

Obi-Wan was shaking Qui-Gon gently by the shoulder. "Master, didn't you go to bed last night?" the
apprentice shook his head in concerned reprove. "We're going to be late."

"We are not going to the Embassy today, Obi-Wan," Qui- Gon said calmly, rising out of the chair and
stretching to relieve the stiffness that sitting there all night had caused.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon in surprise. "But, Master, isn't today the Commencement?" he asked,
confused.

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered simply, heading over to the 'fresher.

"Isn't that what we came here for?" Obi-Wan was puzzled to no end. Qui-Gon was acting very strange.

"I have my reasons Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly, looking at the boy with an intenseness and
determination in his eyes that Obi-Wan could not comprehend. "Question me no more."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said obediently, but he did not understand.

Qui-Gon did not know if what he did was right, but he would do almost anything to keep the sad scene
of the last two days from repeating itself again, to break this vicious circle. If they did not go to the
Embassy, if they did not ever venture outside this room the whole day, then nothing could happen to
Obi-Wan, or at least, that's what Qui-Gon reasoned.

Of course, once the cycle was broken, time, reality and consequences would kick back into effect.
Neglecting his duty would be a very serious charge to answer to, but Qui-Gon was willing to risk it. He
was willing to risk anything for Obi-Wan.

Unbeknownst to the two men, the Venbian Terrorists were not at all pleased with the Jedi presence
here on Malti-Venba. They knew the duo was here to support the new order.

"Wouldn't it be a good blow to this "New Democracy" if it's Jedi puppet's strings were cut?" they
asked themselves. The answer appeared to be yes.

The first, and last warning the Jedi had was the huge explosion that blew all the windows out as the
terrorist bomb ripped the boarding house apart. The horrendous blast shook the earth, decimating
the entire left side of the hotel.

The Jedi's room had been on the sixth floor, but when Qui-Gon opened his eyes, he found that he was
on ground level now, surrounded by, and partially buried under, jagged shards and huge chunks of
debris that had once been part of the ruined structure. Breathing hurt incredibly and his eyes refused
to focus. He had a severe concussion at the very least.

For a moment, he was too stunned and shocked to put together any kind of coherent thought. Then
there was only one that blazed through his head. *Obi-Wan!*

Qui-Gon tried to move, but the ground shook unsteadily, and the weight of the world seemed to press
down on him, crushing him against the rubble he lay on. He realized the shifting was all in his own
head, as was most of the crushing pressure he felt.

Emergency workers were already on the scene. One bent over Qui-Gon. The Jedi could see the
woman's lips moving, but could hear no sound. The explosion had shattered his eardrums.

He must have looked dazed, because the woman and her droid companion started administering hasty
first aid.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon forced his sluggish lips to form the word. "Obi-Wan," he rasped, wondering if he
were really speaking at all. It felt like he was, but he could not hear even his own voice, and the pain
confused him. He searched for his Padawan, reaching out past the confines of his battered body. His
sweep revealed that Obi-Wan was quite close by, and he was not going to make it. Qui-Gon was not
surprised. Deeply disturbed at his repeated failure, but no longer surprised.

The Medic and the droid tried to quiet him, but Qui- Gon would not be stilled. Rolling over, he crawled
across the rubble towards where he felt Obi-Wan, ignoring the way the sharp surface cut his hands
and knees and the way the earth seemed to shake and heave below him.

Somehow, Qui-Gon managed to find his apprentice in the midst of all that destruction and death. The
young man was almost entirely buried beneath a corner of the fallen building. Qui-Gon thought it was
already too late, but when he touched Obi-Wan's face with one, shaky hand, the young Jedi stirred
just a fraction. His eyes opened for a moment.

Obi-Wan was too crushed to speak, but Qui-Gon could not have heard him anyway, so their eyes
spoke for them instead.

The world spun around Qui-Gon; floating black spots and flashes of lighting clouded his vision and he
could barely breathe. He knew Obi-Wan was going to die, but this time, he wondered dimly if he was
too. Sinking down onto the rubble beside his fading Padawan, Qui-Gon rested his head next to
Obi-Wan's as oblivion pulled them both under.

The Jedi Master was dimly aware of being lifted off the rubble and placed on a stretcher.

"What about the other one?" he heard one of the Medic's ask, doubtless meaning Obi-Wan.

"Too late for that one," someone responded somberly. "He's gone."

"Well, there's still a chance for this one, get him to the hospital."

The next thing Qui-Gon remembered was coming to in the hospital ward. His head throbbed
unmercifully and for a moment he thought he was seeing things, because the hazy form of a man
hovered above his bed. Then he realized it was Rylos.

"Better be more careful Jinn," Rylos shook his head, mockingly. "You almost got *yourself* killed that
time. But that won't do you any good. You won't get off that easy."

"Rylos," Qui-Gon rasped, strangely able to hear his unwelcome visitor, but still unable to hear himself.
The Jedi's unfocused eyes burned into the Dacca. "Stop this! Punish me, take my life, but leave
Obi-Wan alone!"

Rylos just smirked and held up a ghostly hand. "Two more tries," he said, indicating the number on his
finger. "You've failed miserably so far Jinn. But don't let repetition dull you, the next few days won't be
so easy," the Dacca threatened with icy amusement. Leaning close, Rylos whispered softly to him.
"Why don't you just give up now, let me take him this way. I promise you it will only get more painful,"
the Dacca hissed menacingly.

Qui-Gon's jaw tightened stubbornly.

"Good," Rylos grinned. "I was hoping you'd chose that way. Keep trying Jinn, see how many times you
can fail..." Rylos disappeared and the room faded after him as unconsciousness reclaimed Qui-Gon
once more.
 
 
 

DAY FOUR:

Qui-Gon's eyes popped open. The sound of the air- circulators and Obi-Wan's gentle snoring seemed
deafening after having been locked in complete silence. For a moment he just lay there, wishing he did
not have to live this day, again. Never before had he so dreaded getting out of bed, yet if he did not,
something disastrous would no doubt happen to them once more.

Qui-Gon sat up with a sigh. He could not hide from this terrible game that Rylos had thrust upon him.
He had tried that, he had let fear make his decision and it had turned out terribly.

*"Think Jinn,"* he told himself, holding his head in his hands. It no longer hurt from the injuries of ...
the last time it was today, but he could feel a headache coming on quickly from trying to figure out
what he was going to do. Forcing himself to be calm and center, he focused his mind, driving away all
the anxiety and fear.

Calmer now, Qui-Gon rose to his feet. They would go to the Embassy. He could not hide them from
danger, he would have to face it head on if he hoped to conquer it.

"Wake up Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called gently, hoping he was not rousing the boy for another day of
death.

They walked this time, because Qui-Gon was beginning to see a pattern. If he tried to hide, some new,
unexpected danger would find them. But perhaps if he faced the perils, they could be conquered.

As they entered the huge doors of the Embassy, it seemed to have worked. He had been prepared.
He had been ready for the accident and made sure the road was clear so that no one was harmed.
He warned the Malti-Venbian soldiers about the assassins on the roof and they were apprehended
without incident.

Qui-Gon sighed as he and Obi-Wan took their place around one of the huge tables in the reception
hall. They had survived the morning, now he just had the rest of the day to worry about.

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's prickling caution. "It's all right Master, after all the things that occurred this
morning, what else could happen?" he whispered in an attempt to lighten his Mentor's heavy mood.

"Let us hope that we don't find out Padawan," Qui-Gon said wearily.

"You sense danger?" Obi-Wan asked in concern, scanning the area for himself but turning up nothing
unusual.

"No," Qui-Gon shook his head. "But that does not mean it is not there." Whatever Rylos had done had
seemed to dampen their ability to sense things before they happened, or a least, to sense danger.

Qui-Gon was not usually given to paranoia, so Obi-Wan knew that something was up. "We will have to
be on guard, Master," Obi-Wan assured.

"Indeed," Qui-Gon nodded, scanning the room once more. Qui-Gon sat tensely through the hours of
talks and speeches, hardly registering a word said. He was, however, very aware of everything else
that was happening around them.

The soldiers, there to protect the gathering, were fanned out around the room, guarding all the exits,
or, the thought struck Qui-Gon suddenly, was it *blocking* all the exits? A flash of apprehension
gripped him. Not a moment too soon. "Everyone get down!" Qui-Gon shouted. Shoving his chair back
and overturning the table like a shield, he pulled the Governor, seated beside him, down as well.
Obi-Wan followed only milliseconds behind him.

The warning gave the unarmed diplomats and guests the moment's notice that they needed to hit the
floor just as a thick barrage of blaster fire tore through the room from all sides as the Venbian
terrorists, disguised as the Malti-Venbian soldiers, opened fire on the helpless crowd.

The gunmen blocked the exits, letting no one out, but more of their own in. "Everyone cooperate, and
no one gets hurt!" one of the lead terrorists called out. "We want hostages, not dead people!"

The Malti-Venbians however, were not inclined to believe the attacking gunmen and some of them
rushed the soldiers.

"No!" Obi-Wan tried to hold back the people next to him. The room was too completely surrounded; it
was suicide to attack the terrorists like that.

"Stay down!" Qui-Gon shouted, half to the people making the foolish attack, and half to Obi-Wan who
had risen up in an attempt to stop the Malti-Venbians.

Obi-Wan obeyed, the Malti-Venbians did not.

Waves of terrorist blaster fire cut down the foolish rush before it had moved halfway across the
room.

Obi-Wan winced as dozens of people fell dead. He inched forward a little, peering around the table
that he, Qui-Gon, the Governor and several other diplomats were taking cover behind. Qui-Gon was
inclined to pull him back, but he stopped himself. If he allowed fear to cloud his thinking again it could
be disastrous to everyone here.

"Nobody move!" the lead terrorist shouted, the veins on his neck bulging in rage. "I have a thermal
detonator here," he said, holding the rotund device aloft for all to see. "And I'm not afraid to use it! I
will die for my cause and join the honored martyrs of my ancestors if I have to, do you want me to do
take you with me?!"

"Everyone be still!" the Governor barked firmly, standing up and leaving the cover of his table.

The Jedi stood up as well, unwilling to leave the brave Governor alone with no protection.

"These are fanatics gentlemen," Governor Naheel said softly to the Jedi on either side of him. "They
will do as they threaten. I myself would rather die and take them with me," the man said quietly, his
eyes speaking the truth of his statement. "But I would not take a room full of innocent people with
me," he murmured, glancing around at all the guests who cowered behind tables and chairs. There had
to be over a hundred people here.

Qui-Gon nodded grimly. He understood.

"I am Governor Vim Naheel," the Governor announced calmly. "If you are after someone gentlemen, it is
me. Let these other people go," he addressed the terrorists, gesturing to the frightened guests
scattered about the room.

"You will not tell us what to do," the lead terrorist snarled, walking over and pushing the muzzle of his
rifle against the Governor's neck. "We are in charge now. We decide what we will do!"

The terrorists grouped the civilian guests into one corner of the room and put them under heavy
guard with orders to start shooting if any of them even batted an eyelash.

Then they gathered the Governor, the diplomats and the Jedi up onto the platform that was meant to
have been used for the commencement ceremony and forced them all to sit down with their hands on
the long table and in clear view. "If any of you even look at me wrong," the leader ranted, "Ten people
over there are gonna die! Got it?!" he said, indicating where his men held the civilian prisoners.

The twelve prisoners at the table nodded grimly.

A comlink was shoved into Governor Naheel's hand. "I want this building evacuated, no one comes
near this room without my permission!" the leader demanded.

The Governor complied quietly, giving the necessary orders. "Now," he said turning back to his captor.
"What are your terms?"

"You don't beat around the bush, I like that," the Venbian sneered. "Our terms are simple! Our terms
are freedom from your tyranny!"

"You wish me to step down?" The Governor inquired; hoping it could be that simple.

"Oh, yes, but that is just the tip of the iceberg Malti!" the man snarled. "We already have you,
Malti-Venba is in our hands! But the Republic will try to take it away from us! They back you, you filthy
sons of waurmets! Send a message to the Republic with our demands! Tell them we demand that they
step out of Venbian affairs! That we demand 500,000,000 dactaryians in exchange for your pitiful
lives. And finally, tell them that we demand 5,000 ground attack vehicles and 7,000 starfighters to rid
our planet of the cursed Malti race! Venba for the Venbians!" he shouted and his men picked up the
cry until the halls of the reception room rang with it.

"You are mad," Governor Naheel informed the man icily. "The Republic will never comply with such
demands, they cannot."

"You'd better hope you're wrong big man," the leader threatened. "Or you're all dead men."

The Venbian terrorist's demands were sent to the Republic officials, but Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both
knew that the Venbians were dreaming to think that they could coax those terms out of the Senate,
or even get the Senate to decide on anything as quickly as they wanted.

As the hours dragged by and there was still no response, the head terrorist became increasingly
volatile and edgy. He paced the length of the dais, sweating and swearing heavily. "Why don't they
answer?! They don't think we're serious!" he growled, angrily snatching up the comlink that was their
connection to the outside world. "Tell them they have one more hour to meet our demands before we
start killing people!" he nearly screamed into the mouthpiece.

"You must be patient, these things take time," the negotiator on the other end tried to reason calmly.

"I have been patient! One hour, do you hear me?" the leader would have none of it.

Twenty minutes later, one of the terrorists brought word that a squad of soldiers was trying to sneak
up behind the building.

"Get those men away from here or I'll blow this whole blankedy-blank place!" the leader cursed into
the comlink. "You've just lost yourself forty minutes. We start killing people now!" he threatened.

Everyone at the table tensed.

"This chamber is equipped for holo-transmissions is it not?" the leader rounded on Governor Naheel.

Naheel nodded slowly.

"Good," the Venbian sent some of his men to operate the controls. "We're going to send a message
that the whole blinking Republic will hear!" he stormed angrily. "Maybe *then* they'll take us
seriously!"

The leader walked slowly around the table, sizing everyone up.

Eleven middle-aged men and a teenager.

On the second time around the table the terrorist stopped behind Obi-Wan's chair, forcing the muzzle
of his rifle under Obi-Wan's chin. "Get up!" he barked.

Qui-Gon felt his heart clutch up.

Obi-Wan obeyed, slowly rising out of his seat. "You, young spawn of a corrupt empire, how do you feel
about dying because of your government's stupidity?!" the terrorist leader demanded, standing
behind Obi-Wan with his blaster pressed under the young Jedi's right ear, just above the start of the
Padawan's braid.

Obi-Wan's expression remained calm. "It is the pledge of every Jedi to be ready to die that others
might live. I would not be the first to fulfill that pledge. I am not afraid."

Qui-Gon's heart ached with both pride and apprehension at Obi-Wan's brave words. *"NO!"* he was
screaming inside. *"NO! Not again!"*

"Is that so, Jedi?" the leader sneered, knocking Obi- Wan's head painfully to the side with a swipe of
his blaster. "We'll have to see what we can do about that. You will be afraid of us! The whole galaxy
will learn to fear us!"

The terrorists forced the other eleven men to rise and move away from the table. Clearing away the
chairs, the terrorist stripped Obi-Wan of his tunic and shirt and forced him to lie down on his back on
the tabletop. As his men bound the young Jedi's wrists and ankles to the legs at the four corners of
the table, the leader turned to address the holo-recorder.

"Hear me! I am Macco Ry! Leader of the glorious Venbian movement! Our planet is overrun by the evil
Maltis! We demand justice and an end to this curse! We have been patient, we have given you time,
but now you will learn that we are not to be trifled with. Watch and heed well what you are going to
see!" Macco ranted.

*"He IS mad,"* Qui-Gon thought in horror. *"He's a lunatic!"* That lunatic had his apprentice tied down
to a table and there was nothing he could do about it. The big Jedi balled his hands into tight fists.

Macco pulled a gleaming knife out of his boot, advancing slowly towards the helpless Jedi on the
table. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, trying to still his pounding heart. He was not afraid, he was not, he
would not allow himself to be! Obi-Wan felt the cool metal against his throat and unconsciously tensed.

Macco smiled, but instead of cutting Obi-Wan's throat he moved the knife over and slashed the veins
on the inside crux of the young Jedi's elbow.

Obi-Wan stiffened, but gave no other indication of pain.

Circling the table, the insane leader slit the apprentice's other arm in the same manner, moving the
cruel knife down to cut Obi-Wan's wrists and letting the teenager's blood flow onto the table.

"Stop," Qui-Gon moved forward a step. "Let him go, he's just a boy. Take me, it would make a bigger
impression on the Senate to kill a Jedi Master, would it not? Isn't that what you want? An impression?"
he reasoned desperately.

"No, Master, don't!" Obi-Wan protested from the table.

Macco seemed to consider this for a moment, but then shook his head. "People have an innately
protective nature towards the young," he said coldly, holding up his bloody knife. "Let's see if his
suffering can move them. I warn you!" he turned back towards the holo-cam. "I am not a patient man!
Do you know how long it takes a man to bleed to death? Fifteen minutes! Answer me, or this boy has
fifteen minutes left to live!" he threatened.

Turning back to Obi-Wan, Macco deliberately opened a long gash across the boy's chest.

Qui-Gon realized stonily that the madman was not just going for veins anymore. He was going for
nerves. He wanted a reaction out of the teenager and was determined to get one.

Obi-Wan steeled himself. Pressing his eyes shut, he tried to close out the pain and focus on his body,
willing the dangerous bleeding to stop. Qui-Gon felt what his apprentice was doing and reached out to
help him, urging the cuts to clot and the veins to seal off.

Minutes dragged by and Macco grew more vicious as his anger and aggravation mounted. He slashed
Obi-Wan's wrists again and again, frustrated by the way the obedient Jedi's body kept sealing the
injuries off.

Obi-Wan outlasted his fifteen minutes, but he could feel himself weakening dangerously. His head was
beginning to swim from blood loss and the world became hazed in yellow.

Qui-Gon desperately wanted to stop them, but what could he do? If he tried anything it would cost
the lives of dozens of innocent people. He could not sacrifice the many for the one, no matter how
dear the one was, or how badly he wanted to do it.

Macco, enraged by the Republic's continued stalling and Obi-Wan's obstinate refusal to give in to his
torture decided he had let it drag long enough.

With a sudden downward thrust he stabbed Obi-Wan in the chest.

The move caught the young Jedi by surprise. Obi-Wan gave a startled, gasping cry as white-hot pain
knifed through him. Macco stabbed him several more times and the world began to fade around the
apprentice.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon cried in anguish as blood began to trickle out of the corner of the young man's
mouth.

Only Governor Naheel's hand on his arm brought the incensed Jedi back to his senses enough to keep
him from charging up to the table and ripping the knife out of Macco's bloodstained hands.

Naheel caught Qui-Gon's eyes and shook his head sadly. "It's too late," the statesman mouthed, his
eyes betraying the depth of his sorrow.

Macco too seemed to know that Obi-Wan was dying, so he cut the cords that bound the teenager to
the table. Some of the terrorists hauled the bleeding boy off the tabletop and dropped him at
Qui-Gon's feet.

Obi-Wan could not support his own weight and crumpled to the ground when they let go.

Qui-Gon was holding him in an instant, cradling the Padawan close as Obi-Wan's blood stained his tunic
red. Obi-Wan melted into Qui-Gon's embrace, coughing fitfully as his punctured lungs filled with blood
and his ruptured organs shut down. It seemed to be a race to see which would kill him first.

"My Padawan," Qui-Gon held him tightly, wiping the blood from Obi-Wan's face with the corner of his
robe and trying to warm the boy's cold body. "My brave Padawan," he shook his head. "My poor,
brave Obi-Wan."

Macco was ranting again, but Qui-Gon was not listening. Right now, his whole world revolved around
the bleeding, dying boy in his arms. He could not keep Obi-Wan alive, he knew that, but reaching into
the boy's failing body he did his darndest to relieve Obi-Wan's pain as much as possible.

Obi-Wan reached up, holding onto Qui-Gon's arm and leaving a bloody handprint on the big Jedi's
sleeve. "I'm so cold Master," he whispered.

Qui-Gon held the boy closer in his arms, wrapping him in both his body warmth, and the warmth of his
love.

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "Master," he murmured, burying his head against Qui-Gon's chest and sounding
for all the world like a little child. "I'm tired Master," he lisped distantly. "I can't see you..."

"Then rest Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon soothed gently, running his hand over his Padawan's short hair. "Rest,
and I'll see you in the morning," the big Jedi's voice choked.

The morning. One morning left. One last chance. He had failed so far, would he do so again tomorrow?

Slowly, Obi-Wan's hand slid down Qui-Gon's arm. The apprentice was not dead, but he was going.

Qui-Gon reflected somewhat bitterly that if Rylos wanted to punish him, he could have done it in no
better way than to force him watch his beloved Padawan die in his arms, not once, but five times.

Qui-Gon sat on the floor, cradling Obi-Wan's body long after it grew cold and lifeless. The hostage
situation dragged on for hours, but Qui-Gon no longer noticed what happened. It didn't matter.
Obi-Wan was dead. Nothing else mattered.
 
 
 
 
 

                                                                     *******
 

DAY FIVE:

Qui-Gon woke up long before the dawn and sat in a chair by Obi-Wan's bed, watching the young man
sleep. He had the horrible feeling that this was the last time he was going to be able to do so.

Obi-Wan had grown so much from the sometimes awkward, but always eager child that he had met
nearly five years ago, but he was still so young. Too young to die because of a dark enemy from his
Master's past.

*"I don't want you to die for my mistakes Padawan,"* Qui-Gon agonized. *"I want to protect you, but I
don't know how!"*

Morning came too soon. Much too soon for Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan found his Master strangely quite as they prepared for the day and when Qui-Gon looked at him,
it seemed as if the older Jedi's eyes were haunted with a pain the apprentice did not understand.

"Master?" he ventured on the way to the Embassy. "Have I done something wrong?" Obi-Wan had
noticed the way Qui-Gon kept looking at him and was beginning to think that there must be something
amiss.

"No," Qui-Gon shook his head quickly. "No, Obi-Wan, you have done nothing wrong. You must forgive me, I
am... troubled."

"I noticed. Do you want to tell me why?" the young Jedi asked sensitively.

Qui-Gon just sighed.

"Can I do anything?" Obi-Wan wanted to know.

"Just, be careful," Qui-Gon said at last. "I don't want to lose you Padawan," he said softly.

Obi-Wan laughed. "I'm not going anywhere Master!" he assured and Qui-Gon tried to smile back, but his
heart was heavy.

Once again, the familiar string of events was evaded, the accident, the shooting, and this time, the
terrorist take-over was prevented as well.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon sat through the ceremonies as Governor Naheel was sworn in as Malti-Venba's new
Head-of- State. Afternoon shadows were lengthening when the two Jedi left the Embassy and Qui-Gon
was beginning to hope that they were going to make it this time. His senses probed every corner
before they turned it and he cross- examined every movement that stirred on their way back to the
hotel.

Crossing the lobby they entered the lift shaft. Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief as he punched the
button for the sixth floor. He could not wait for this day to be over. It had seemed years long to him.

The moment after the doors slid shut in front of them, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end at
the sudden surge of trepidation that washed over him. It turned into a cold lump in his stomach as the
elevator took them *down* instead of up.

"Master," Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. "Aren't we supposed to be going *up*?"

It was the last thing either of them remembered before a heavy stun beam radiated throughout the
confined space, rendering both Jedi unconscious.

When Qui-Gon woke up, it felt as if a Bantha had stepped on his head. He tried to move but found that
he was chained to the cold, damp wall behind him.

Obi-Wan hung next to him, still unconscious. He tried to probe, to see if the Padawan was all right, but
he found only blankness. With a start he realized that he could not touch the Force. It was as if he were
locked inside himself.

The door scraped open and several of their captors entered. Qui-Gon would have bet anything that
they were Venbian loyalists. He would have won too.

"Wake him up," a tall man with a scar on his right cheek motioned towards Obi-Wan.

A shorter man touched the apprentice's bare side with a shock bar.

Obi-Wan jerked and moaned, rudely awakened from his stun-induced slumber.

"Okay," scar-face said, looking back and forth between the two Jedi. "Let's get down to business right
away shall we? I need to know where the government is going to move the new munitions factory, and
one of you are going to tell me. Are you going to cooperate, or are you going to make me get nasty?"

"Only the Governor and his council members would know that," Qui-Gon shook his head. "It was not
discussed at the meeting and neither of us are privy to that information. You are wasting your time,"
Qui-Gon was actually able to tell the truth.

Scar-face scowled. "I have it from a very reliable source that it *was* discussed at the meeting. You
want to be difficult about this? I can oblige." He twisted a cruel looking three-tongued device in his
hands. "Who wants to go first?" He seemed to ponder for a moment before pointing at Obi-Wan. "Hmm,
him I think," the man said casually. "Youth can sometimes be weakness. Either for him, or for you,"
Scar-face said pointedly to Qui-Gon as his men unchained Obi-Wan from the wall and switched him to a
set in the middle of the chamber.

Qui-Gon pulled against his bonds ineffectually as they clapped Obi-Wan into a set of chains that held his
arms crossed at the wrist in front of him.

"Perhaps he will tell me, or perhaps you will for his sake, it makes no difference," Scar-face said in an
overly cheerful voice. He was obviously enjoying this.

"There is nothing to tell!" Qui-Gon protested vehemently, trying to make his words carry into the
Venbian's mind, only to find once more that he could not get past whatever was blocking him.

"Ah, now, none of your tricks!" Scar-face said. "Do you think I am stupid enough to attempt to take a pair
of Jedi prisoner and not take some precautions?" the man shook his head. "Your powers will not work in
this room Jedi, my pretty pets here assure that," the man reached through the bars of it's cage and
petted the neck of one of the Yslami that Qui-Gon now realized surrounded the room.

"You cannot use them on us, and you cannot use them to help yourselves. One last chance before I
start on the boy, are either of you going to tell me?" he asked, holding the multi-pronged device ready
in his hand, taking his place behind Obi-Wan.

"We cannot divulge what we do not know," Obi-Wan shook his head. Squashing the tremors of fear that
tried to clutch at his heart.

"Have it your way," Scar-face shrugged, raising his device and letting it fall sharply across Obi-Wan's
back and shoulders.

Obi-Wan tensed, but remained still. Of course, the chains on his wrists made sure of that anyway. The
Padawan bit his lip as the Venbian continued to flail him. Fiery tendrils of pain crisscrossed his shoulders
and each cruel touch of his torturer's many-tentacled device added three new ribbons of agony to the
unfortunate young Jedi's hurting body.

Obi-Wan stifled a cry, determined to take this in silence. The device being used on him was insidious. It's
three tentacles resembled the thongs of a whip, only they were soft, almost gelatinous. Whatever the
substance was that it was made of burned like fire upon contact with the apprentice's skin. The harder
the man behind Obi-Wan struck him with it, the worse it hurt.

Obi-Wan grit his teeth hard, the pain wracking his body. Twisting his wrists in the tight, iron cuffs that
held his arms crossed in front of him, Obi-Wan attempted to bring the Force to bear on his chains, but
found that Scar- face was unfortunately telling the truth when he said that they could not touch the
Force here. He was cut off from it, and he was on his own to withstand this torment.

The Venbian struck him a particularly savage blow and Obi-Wan moaned softly between his teeth.
Clamping his lips shut tight, Obi-Wan resisted the urge to do that again. He *would* be silent. He would
not cry out. He would not do that to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon struggled against the chains that held him until his wrists bled, but it did no good. He could not
get free. He was forced to stand there against the wall, forced to watch as the merciless man tortured
his apprentice.

The Jedi Master's heart throbbed as raw as his wrists. Cut off from the Force as they were, he could
not feel his Padawan's pain, but he could see Obi-Wan jerk as the blows fell and hear the silent hiss of
the air between his teeth. He could see the nasty red welts beginning to spread across Obi-Wan's
young back and the agonized tension in his shoulders. Yes, Qui-Gon could see the pain, which the
apprentice was trying valiantly to hide, and it broke his heart.

Scar-face beat Obi-Wan until the young Jedi's blood ran, then he changed methods, stabbing tiny
needles into precise points on Obi-Wan's body he sent horrible jolts of pain through them that made the
boy convulse spasmodically.

Through it all, Obi-Wan remained stoically silent. But as the hours dragged by and the torture grew more
and more intense Obi-Wan started making sounds he couldn't help.

Scar-face was no longer amused, now he was growing annoyed, and as he did, his methods of torture
became increasingly brutal and damaging. Obi-Wan should have passed out hours ago, only the
stim-shots they kept giving him kept him alert enough to continue receiving the cruel treatment. It was
dangerous to administer more than two stim's every four hours. Obi-Wan had had over six already.

When the pain finally broke Obi-Wan to screaming, Qui- Gon thought he was going to die. Each anguished
cry from his apprentice stabbed straight through his heart like a vibro-shiv, ripping it to shreds.

"Stop it!" Qui-Gon cried in anguish. "If I knew, don't you think I'd tell you, just to put an end to this?" he
half-shouted when he could take Obi-Wan's screams no longer.

"I don't know what you'd do Jedi, so until I hear what I want to hear, I'm going to do whatever I please,
got it?" Scar-face threatened, jerking Obi-Wan's limp head up by his hair.

Obi-Wan's throat was raw from screaming and his voice hoarse. He dangled from the chains in a terrible
half- consciousness. His body could not take much more and he knew it. After this, death would almost
seem a release.

He felt Scar-face jab a needle into his arm, only this time it was an injection. *"Mind drugs,"* was all
Obi-Wan had a chance to think before his thoughts scattered and his mind started whirling dizzily under
the effects of the drug.

Obi-Wan had resisted mind probes before, but it was not even a matter of resisting this time. He knew
nothing of value to his captors. He had nothing to betray.

"The munitions factory, where is it to be?"

Obi-Wan's pale face wrinkled in confusion. "I don't know..." he mumbled hoarsely.

Scar-face struck him with a shock-bar, making Obi-Wan cry out.

"No more games, where is it?!"

Obi-Wan shook his head vigorously, his eyes blank and distant due to the drug in his system. "I don't
know."

Scar-face's lips clamped tightly shut. There was no way in the boy's condition, and without the use of his
precious Force powers, that Obi-Wan should be able to resist the effects of the truth serum, yet he still
told them nothing. The Venbian began to doubt whether the Jedi knew after all, and that thought made
him angry. He did not like to think that he had wasted his time here.

"Double the injection," he ordered one of his men, holding out his hand to receive the hypo. Qui-Gon's
eyes grew large in horror. "You can't do that! You'll kill him! He doesn't know! He has nothing to tell you,
can't you see that?!" the Jedi demanded.

Scar-face just glared at Qui-Gon coldly. "If he truly doesn't know, then he's of no use to me anyway," the
Venbian said heartlessly, pressing the hypo against Obi- Wan's shoulder and flooding his system with a
deadly dose of the potent drug.

Obi-Wan sobbed for breath as the drug raged through his system, disrupting his normal body functions.

"Where are the munitions factories!" Scar-face nearly roared.

"I don't know, I don't know," Obi-Wan moaned, beginning to tremble uncontrollably. He gave a gasping cry
as the drug wreaked havoc on his body. "Oh God, I don't know!" he cried desperately.

Scar-face shook his head, at last convinced that the boy truly did not know. He had made a mistake. A
costly one for all involved.

"Unchain them, lock them up in one of the holding cells. I'll decide what to do with them tomorrow," the
Venbian declared, stalking away disgustedly.

Obi-Wan had to be carried out of the room.

It was dark in the cell when the door slammed shut, but there was still enough light for Qui-Gon to see
the extent of the horrendous damage that had been done to Obi- Wan's young body.

The Jedi Master's heart felt as heavy as a lead balloon as he once more found himself holding his bloody
apprentice in his arms. This could not be! He would not accept it!

Obi-Wan was shaking; his body trembling uncontrollably from the drug over-dose that had been forced
upon him. The apprentice's mind was still hazy and he was only half- there.

Even without the Force, Qui-Gon knew his Padawan was dying. Only this time, there would be no
tomorrow for them to be together again. Qui-Gon had failed for the last time.

Rylos had known all along, Qui-Gon realized bitterly. This was no fair contest; the Dacca had stacked the
deck all the way along. He never intended to let Qui-Gon beat him at his own games, he merely wanted
to torture the Jedi by forcing him to watch Obi-Wan die five deaths, each crueler than the last.

Well, he had succeeded. Rylos could have devised no more cruel punishment than this, no better way to
break Qui-Gon's heart.

"Master," Obi-Wan moaned softly, his voice shaky and raw. "Master!" he held onto Qui-Gon with trebling
hands. "Don't leave me Master," he begged softly. "I can't do this alone... don't want to be alone..."
Obi-Wan was mumbling incoherently, still under the effects of the mind drug.

"I won't leave you Obi-Wan. I promise, I'm right here," Qui-Gon soothed, tears gathering in the corners of
his weathered blue eyes.

"But they sent me away," Obi-Wan murmured sadly. "You didn't want me, nobody wanted me..." the drug
had left Obi- Wan's soul wide open to all his worst memories, all the things that had ever hurt him.

Qui-Gon's heart tightened painfully. He knew what Obi-Wan was talking about.

"Obi-Wan," he said hoarsely, shaking his head, but Obi-Wan did not stop.

"Then, then you didn't want me back..." Obi-Wan's voice was plaintive and distant.

Qui-Gon pressed his fingers gently to Obi-Wan's lips. "Shh, Shh," he hushed quietly. "That was a long time
ago Obi-Wan, and it was never *you* I didn't want. Taking you as Padawan was the *best* thing I ever
did, and I haven't regretted it for a moment," he assured tenderly.

"I know," Obi-Wan whispered softly. "I know, Master, I-I just can't seem to control... don't know what I'm
saying..." for a moment there was a flicker of clarity in Obi-Wan's eyes, then they clouded again and a
look of pain crossed his face. "Don't know..." he mumbled. "Don't know! I don't know! Leave me alone!" he
thrashed deliriously, reliving the torment that Scar-face had put him through.

Qui-Gon held him tightly until the fit passed and he could see a touch of Obi-Wan behind the Padawan's
glazed blue eyes again.

"Sorry..." Obi-Wan apologized weakly, miserably. "So sorry Master... I wanted to, to be silent. Didn't want
to let them make me... Didn't want to hurt you..."

"Obi-Wan, you didn't hurt me," Qui-Gon's voice shook. "You don't need to apologize, you were very
brave. I'm the one who's sorry! I failed you Obi-Wan. I failed you."

Tears slid silently down Qui-Gon's cheeks, falling down to mingle with Obi-Wan's blood. "I wanted so badly
to save you, I was desperate to save you!" Qui-Gon shook his head in misery. "I'm sorry Padawan, I am so
sorry!" he whispered, his voice choked with the sorrow that devoured him.

"D-don't cry Master," Obi-Wan brushed Qui-Gon's face with trembling fingertips. "Not your fault." The
young Jedi smiled wanly. "I guess, guess I'm going to have to go after all Master," he coughed weakly.
"But don't grieve, you haven't lost me... it's - it's just going to be awhile - awhile 'til we see each other
again."

Obi-Wan knew how deeply losing Xanatos had scarred Qui-Gon's sensitive heart. He did not want his
death to do the same thing that Xanatos' betrayal had. "Please, Master, for me... Don't - don't be afraid
to - to take another Padawan," Obi-Wan gasped. The apprentice's breathing was racing rapidly out of
control, making his injured chest heave painfully and his already blurry vision swim. "Somewhere out
there, there's another very lucky child for you, who needs you like I did..."

Qui-Gon wanted to scream that he would never, ever take another Padawan. He would never open
himself to such heartbreak again. But for Obi-Wan's sake he did not.

"I don't want another Padawan Obi-Wan," he choked out instead. "I want you. I need you. There's so
much I never told you, so much I thought we would have time to do together... I love you Obi-Wan. I've
never said that to you, but I do! I love you," Qui-Gon whispered, his heart breaking.

Obi-Wan smiled, somewhat dreamily. "I know. You didn't have to say, you said it by your actions..." the
boy coughed, his already white face going a shade paler. "I love you too Master, and I always will."
Obi-Wan searched weakly for Qui-Gon's hand. When Qui-Gon gave it to him, Obi-Wan entwined their
fingers and squeezed the Jedi Master's big hand as hard as his shaking body and failing strength
allowed him to.

"We will always be together," the Padawan whispered softly.

A spasm seized Obi-Wan and he tensed, moaning quietly.

"Master," he choked softly, nearly sobbing in pain. All Qui-Gon could do was hold Obi-Wan, hold him and
weep.

"It hurts Master..." Obi-Wan was sliding towards delirium again, his fingers tightening around Qui-Gon's, his
other hand clutching at the Master's arm. "It hurts so bad..."

Without the Force, Qui-Gon could not even ease his dying apprentice's pain. This was what Rylos had
meant about it being worse. Qui-Gon didn't want this to be the way it stood for all eternity. Did not want
Obi-Wan to die such a horrible death, but there was nothing he could do to about it.

Swaying gently back and forth, Qui-Gon rocked Obi-Wan in his lap like a little child who was afraid of the
dark. With no other comfort to give the dying teenager, Qui-Gon started singing a soft Twi'Lek lullaby
that he had learned years ago from a little girl on a sun-kissed world far away from this dark place.

Obi-Wan had never heard his Master sing before and it had a soothing effect on him. As the soft,
strange words of the alien lullaby filled the small chamber, Obi-Wan relaxed in Qui-Gon's arms and his
breathing slowed. Qui- Gon's voice cracked with emotion, but it seemed to help Obi-Wan, so he kept
singing.

        "Nu ba ta ruul'k,
        Fa be le, na tuura,
        Nu ba ta haynah
        Shii la tay da suura,"

He sang softly, cradling his apprentice close and rocking gently as Obi-Wan's eyes began to close in a
sleep from which there was no waking.
The meaning of the words in the lullaby twisted inside Qui-Gon's heart like a dagger.

        "Hush, hush little one,
        Don't cry anymore.
        Hush, hush my child,
        Sleep's at the door.

        When you open your eyes
        The darkness will flee.
        And as the night dies
        I'll see you smile at me."

As he sang, Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan slip away quietly, leaving only his body behind in Qui-Gon's strong arms.

Tears rolling down the big Jedi's cheeks, he clutched the lifeless boy to his chest and choked out the
last line of the lullaby around the huge, raw lump that had formed in his throat.

        "Hush, hush and sleep,
        Hear the twilight drums.
        Hush, hush, my dear,
        Then the morning comes..."

Then the morning comes, but it would not find Obi-Wan. It would not find him ever again. Qui-Gon bowed
his head over the lifeless boy, his broad shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Somewhere outside the last rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon, plunging Malti-Venba into a
night almost as black as the one that Qui-Gon felt surrounding his soul. The fifth day ended and it was
over.

This time there was no waking, no reprove. Obi-Wan was gone for good and a large part of Qui-Gon's
heart had died with him.

Qui-Gon had no idea how long he sat in stunned, heart- broken silence, holding Obi-Wan for the last time,
but it must have been nearly morning when a movement to his right made him raise his blood-shot eyes.

One word echoed through the Jedi's stupefied, grieving brain.

*Rylos.*

Rylos looked down upon the pair in grim satisfaction. He looked more solid, more corporal this time than
he had on any of their previous encounters.

"Game over Jinn, you lose," Rylos said with a smile. "I guess you've failed him for the last time. Oh, I
brought you something," the Dacca smirked, dropping Obi- Wan's lightsaber carelessly on top of the
deceased young Jedi. "Tell me, will this burn with rest of his pitiful body?" Rylos mocked cruelly.

It was a challenge and Qui-Gon knew it. Rylos was tempting him, but right now he didn't care. Blind with
grief, Qui-Gon grabbed the weapon and leaped to his feet, feeling an incredible rage and hatred swell up
inside of him. Sheer hate pounded in his veins and pulsed in his temples as the blue blade sprung to life
in his grip.

Rylos was making no move to stop the angry Jedi, no motion to defend himself. It would be so easy for
Qui-Gon to cut the sneering Dacca in half. So easy...

The soft blue glow of Obi-Wan's lightsaber in his hands brought Qui-Gon back to his senses. *What was
he doing?!* Giving into his hate this way would neither bring Obi-Wan back, nor honor his memory.

He was a Jedi, and to kill Rylos in anger, no matter what the Dacca had done, would destroy him. It
would turn him to the Dark Side and Evil would devour him.

His body trembling with the depth of the emotions he was feeling, Qui-Gon flicked the blade off. For a
moment, only the sound of his own ragged breathing filled the small room.

"Get out of here Rylos," Qui-Gon said at last, his voice raspy, but no longer filled with hate. Now there
was only heartbreak and pain in his deep blue eyes as the Jedi Master sunk down again, beside the still
body of his former Padawan.

Qui-Gon gently folded Obi-Wan's lifeless hands around the handle of his lightsaber, letting it rest on the
boy's cold chest. "You've done your job," he said sadly, gazing down at Obi-Wan's pale face as he
spoke. "Revenge is yours. You can hurt me no worse; nothing you could do could hurt me any more than
you already have. Let the dead rest in peace now Dacca. I never want to see you again." Qui-Gon did
not look at Rylos, but continued to stare down at Obi-Wan's body with eyes that could only look back,
and remember what had been.

Rylos stared at the Jedi in puzzled shock. He knew Qui-Gon had wanted to kill him, he had been driving
him to do it, but he *hadn't*. "You wanted to kill me Jedi, why didn't you?" the Dacca asked in
confusion.

"I am a Jedi," Qui-Gon said hoarsely, looking up at Rylos with pain-filled eyes. "Despite what you think I did
all those years ago, Jedi do not kill for revenge. We cannot, it is wrong. I wanted to kill you, yes, but it
would not have been right to do so, just because I wanted to. I *loved* Obi-Wan, Rylos. What kind of
honor would I be paying him if I let his death destroy me? He would not wish it, I do not wish it," Qui-Gon
answered with numb conviction.

Qui-Gon's answer shook Rylos to the core of his being. If what the Jedi said was true, then it was not
possible for Qui-Gon to have killed Benthon for revenge back on Aminorthini, and if that were not
possible, then it might mean that Benthon had, in fact, been the perpetrator of everything the Jedi
claimed he had been. Rylos shook his head. It could not be true. It could not!

But it had to be true. He had given Qui-Gon far more compelling reason than Benthon had for the Jedi to
want him dead, but Qui-Gon had stayed his hand, even while his beloved apprentice's body grew cold on
the floor below them. Qui-Gon had not struck. He was not guilty.

"I was wrong about you Jinn," Rylos said slowly. "And I was wrong about Benthon," the Dacca's voice was
soft and sad. Rylos understood now why his people had the laws they did. It was too easy for the
Dacca to play God in people's lives and hand out judgement as they saw fit, but they did not always see
everything. "I see now, that it was as you said. I'm sorry, sorry for everything," Rylos apologized stiffly.
The door to the cell swung open. "You are free to go Jinn, but better go slowly," the Dacca said, a
strange, almost soft smile spreading over his face. "There's someone here who'll need your help." With
that, Rylos dematerialized, vanishing for the last time.

Qui-Gon was glad that the Dacca finally accepted the truth, but did not understand what he had meant
by that last statement...

A movement below him made Qui-Gon start.

Obi-Wan stirred, one hand tightening on the hilt of the lightsaber Qui-Gon had placed on his chest, and
the other going to his head. *"Ohhh..."* the boy moaned softly.

Qui-Gon's heart swelled with hope. "Obi-Wan?" he asked, barely daring to dream...

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked groggily. "Where are we? I feel *terrible*!"

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon exclaimed in joy, hugging the boy tightly.

"Oh! Ow! Ouch! Easy, please!" Obi-Wan gasped as Qui- Gon's strong embrace scrunched his sore body.
The life- threatening injuries were gone, but he had still been pretty well worked-over.

Qui-Gon eased up, but he was still smiling. Helping Obi-Wan to his feet and supporting the unsteady
teenager with an arm around his shoulders Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan walk out as they made good their
escape.

**************
 
 
 

It took several days for Obi-Wan to completely recover from his ordeal, but everyone said it was a
miracle that he survived at all. Scar-face, who turned out to be Macca's brother Dithe, and the leader
of the entire Venbian Supremacist Terrorist movement, was apprehended, and with both leaders in
custody, the dangerous group was essentially quashed.

In the days that followed, Obi-Wan noticed a difference in his Master. Qui-Gon smiled at him more and
seemed to be making a special point of letting Obi-Wan know how much he cared for him. Obi-Wan did
not mind that, but Qui-Gon was also being, he felt, a trifle overly protective of the younger Jedi.
Obi-Wan knew it had been a close call, but the apprentice had been through other close calls before.

"Master, I won't *break*," Obi-Wan protested when Qui- Gon's handle-with-care attitude finally got
under his skin, on his second day back from the hospital.

"I didn't say you were going to break," Qui-Gon pointed out. "I just said you should get some rest. I'll
have dinner brought in to us this evening."

"Okay," Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll go place the order."

"I'll take care of that, you just tell me what you want," Qui-Gon said patiently. "In the meantime, I've had
a hot bath made for you, I suggest you avail yourself of it before it gets cold."

"Master..." Obi-Wan grinned in half-annoyed amusement, folding his arms.

"What?" Qui-Gon asked innocently. "You're not completely well yet. Allow me to spoil you a little."

*"Spoil me?"* Obi-Wan thought he must have heard wrong. Qui-Gon was a good and fair Master, but
indulgent was not exactly a word that could generally be applied to him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Master?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

Qui-Gon took a swat at the apprentice with one of the hostel's towels, which Obi-Wan easily ducked,
grinning impishly and flopping back onto the bed behind him.

"You keep that up and you'll find out!" Qui-Gon growled with a twinkle in his eye. "So keep quiet, unless
you would rather spend the evening doing push-ups..."

"Ah, now *that* sounds like my Master," Obi-Wan said, grinning up at Qui-Gon as he tucked his legs up
onto the bed and folded them.

"Impertinent brat," Qui-Gon said affectionately.

A surprised look crossed Obi-Wan's face, then he began to squirm slightly. "MAS-ter!" he said clutching
his sides as his face started to flush. "Stop!" the boy gasped through the giggles that were fighting
with him to come out.

Qui-Gon grinned maliciously and Obi-Wan collapsed sideways onto the bed, wriggling and giggling
uncontrollably as Qui-Gon tickled him through their connection.

The big Jedi didn't need to physically *touch* the apprentice to send him into fits of laughter.

"Stop it! That's not fair!" Obi-Wan laughed, trying in vain to catch his breath as Qui-Gon's teasing made
him laugh until his stomach ached.

"You KNOW I can't do it back! Master!" the apprentice whined playfully. It was true; tickling his Master
in the way that Qui-Gon could tickle him was one thing that the Padawan had never been able to do,
Qui-Gon's control was too good. "Oh, oh, oh, stop!" Obi-Wan gasped, nearly convulsed in laughter.

"No more cheek from you tonight?" Qui-Gon asked, letting the Padawan squirm a little longer.

"Okay, okay! I promise!" Obi-Wan giggled. "I promise, stop!"

Qui-Gon released his apprentice and Obi-Wan rolled onto his back, wiping the tears of laughter from
his cheeks and attempting to catch his breath. "That's really not fair you know," the boy pretended to
complain, the smile on his face belying his words.

"Mm," Qui-Gon cocked an eyebrow. "And whoever said that life was fair?"

"Ohhh, ow," Obi-Wan sat up, holding his aching stomach. "I think you set me back two weeks," he
teased.

"Since you've only been recovering for four days that would be an interesting trick Padawan," Qui-Gon
said dryly.

Obi-Wan felt the tendrils of Qui-Gon's touch brush against him and quickly back-peddled his statement.
"I take it back! I take it back!" Obi-Wan giggled, starting to double over again.

Qui-Gon smiled and pulled away once more. "That's a good Padawan," he patted Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"Now go take your bath. Dinner will be up by the time you're done."

"That's a dirty rotten trick is what it is," Obi-Wan mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately for the
Padawan, his Master heard him.

Scooping the apprentice up in his arms before Obi-Wan had a chance to react, Qui-Gon carried him
across the room and into the 'fresher.

"Hey, wha- wait!" Obi-Wan started fighting his Master's unexpected action, but it was too late.

Qui-Gon dropped the struggling teenager, clothes and all, into the bath, creating a rather huge and
rather messy splash.

Obi-Wan sat in the tub; spluttering in wide-eyed astonishment and looking for all the world like a
drowned cat.

"Enjoy your bath Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. His tone was about the only thing in the room that was dry.

The boy opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, reminding Qui-Gon of a fish out of water, only
Obi-Wan was definitely *not* out of water...

"Is this a new efficiency technique?" Obi-Wan recovered himself enough to say, wiping away the water
that was dripping in his eyes. "To wash myself and my clothes at the same time?"

Qui-Gon laughed, he couldn't help it. "You may have hit upon something there," he chuckled. "Dinner will
be up in about fifteen minutes," he said, heading for the door. "I'll lay some fresh night-clothes out for
you. Unless, you want to keep those..."

"Umm, no, thanks," Obi-Wan shook his head, plucking at the drenched material.

"Fifteen minutes, or the food will be cold," Qui-Gon warned with a smile, pulling the door shut behind
him.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan grinned, beginning to shed his soggy clothes.

Qui-Gon closed the door behind him with a smile. Someday, he knew, time, space, or death would
eventually part he and Obi-Wan, but it would not be forever. Nothing could separate them forever.

Nothing.

THE END