Part III

"My lord, Master Kenobi is now in our possession."

From where he stood overlooking the cityscape of Coruscant, Palpatine could not stop the grin that spread across his features. "Good. Very good. See to it that Kenobi is removed from Ranth'fer as soon as possible. There must be no way for young Skywalker to track his master's path from the system."

Turning away from the window, Palpatine strode towards a console in the center of his office which projected a small blue hologram of Shinda Ma'ha.

"We simply await the arrival of the slavers and Kenobi will be taken from Ranth'fer," the trader assured him.

"Once I have confirmation that Kenobi is in the hands of the slavers you will be pain handsomely for your efforts."

"I will contact you again once Master Kenobi is off Ranth'fer."

The communication finished, Palpatine returned to the window. Anakin Skywalker would be vulnerable. He was an apprentice without a master. Beyond that he was a deeply feeling young man, one who cared greatly for his master and would be thrown at the loss of his beloved mentor. And he would blame the Jedi Council for Obi-Wan's loss. Anakin would be easily turned to the dark side in the wake of such events.

Palpatine felt almost giddy with the knowledge that soon the Jedi's so-called Chosen One would be at his beck and call.

Unconscious, it was difficult to perceive Obi-Wan Kenobi as any type of threat. Unconscious he was simply another human, albeit a highly defenseless one. After Shinda and her companions had dug him out of the remains of the wooden stall they had loaded the wounded Jedi into a crate and transported him to a hanger on the edge of the settlement. The slavers from Quortho were scheduled to land there after nightfall and then taken Kenobi to another system in the Outer Rim where the Jedi would not think to look for their missing comrade. Soon they would not have the man power to spare in the search for a single Jedi.

"Burn anything that could identify him as a Jedi," Shinda ordered, fingering the lightsaber that she had rescued from the rubble. She tucked it into her belt as she strode across the room to the large tool boxes that stood against the hanger's interior wall. "His robes, his belt.... He has to look like a common human slave." From the first of the boxes she removed a replacement blade for one of the man cutting devices stored in that particular box. "I will ensure that his Jedi friends have a difficult time recognizing him."

Shinda watched rather gleefully as Kenobi was unceremoniously flipped onto his stomach and stripped of his distinctive Jedi cloak, belt and tunics. While the others were busy burning the garments, Shinda straddled Kenobi's torso and began hacking away at his hair. When she was finished the copper locks were shorn to the scalp in some places, longer in others. Content with that, Shinda rose up off the unconscious Jedi and rolled him onto his back. The left side of his face was smeared with blood that had dried and matted into his beard. While the blood remained when Shinda rose off Kenobi a second time, the beard was no more. Obi-Wan Kenobi hardly appeared the noble Jedi Master he had been an hour before.

All was chaos around him. Shouting, the sounds of crashes, the rumblings of large objects. Someone stumbled over his leg and he curled in on himself to protect his body from further harm. That simple movement sent a flash of pain through his veins, originating from his head. Opening his eyes proved to be an even more difficult challenge. As the light seeped passed his swollen eyelids it felt as though his very retinas were being scorched.

"You're late, Mantu."

"There was a problem with the ship."

"It's a rust heap. You need a new one."

"From what I hear it doesn't matter if this guy crashes and burns."

"No killing him. Lord Sidious wants Kenobi alive. For now at least."

It took a few goings over but he was able to figure out their conversation. Not that it relieved him in any way. A man named Sidious mean to kill him, but for what reason remained unknown. Other parts of their conversation he didn't understand in the least. It was difficult to focus. His awareness faded in and out and it was during one of those moments when he was unaware that he found himself flipped over onto his stomach. He began to panic once he realized his position, struggling against the many sets of hands that held him down. A cry rose up from his throat, wordless and frenzied, as his hands were dragged behind his back and bound in place. That done he was turned onto his back, his body arching upwards as a result of his bound limbs.

As his eyes flicked over the shapes moving around him, they locked on one figure in particular. A tall man wearing dark clothing moved steadily towards him, something clasped in his hands. It took his frantic mind time to recognize the collar which the man obvious meant to place around his throat. His panicked state increased and he struggled furiously to free his arms. His fights were quelled by two sets of hands holding him still at his hips, pressing his wrists painfully into the ground. A few of his fingers felt as though they would be snapped as a result of their awkward positioning.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded bringing his chin down against his chest to make it more difficult to put the collar on him.

"Hush now, Obi-Wan. This is for your own good."

She nodded to someone that he couldn't see then and his head was yanked back, freeing up his neck. He began screaming and thrashing about as best as he was able. He begged, pleaded, for someone to help him, shouting as loud as he could. It was in vain, though. No one meant to help him.

At the very last moment, just before the collar was placed round his neck, he did as his instincts insisted. While it was not vocal, he shouted. A long scream in his mind that carried a single name. Anakin.

He imaged himself a flicker of a response and then the collar was snapped in place and the whole world around him was muted.

Halfway across the galaxy, in the middle of a training session, Anakin dropped to his knees. His lightsaber tumbled from suddenly nerveless fingers and he could not hear the shocked voices raised around him. Anakin was only aware of the absolute silence that had suddenly descended upon his training bond with Obi-Wan. The quiet humming, which had always been such a comfort for him, was gone, silenced in a single instant.

"Obi-Wan...."

When he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, Anakin stumbled backwards, falling back onto the tiles. He sent a mental shove towards the bond, screaming his master's name. There was no response. Not even a flicker of that former bond.

"A great disturbance in the Force," Yoda mused, the voice breaking through the fog that had surrounded Anakin's senses. "Silenced, a Jedi has been."

"Don't say that," Anakin cried as he scrambled to his feet. "I will not believe that he is dead. It's impossible. Nothing has happened to Obi-Wan."

"Named Obi-Wan, I did not. Felt your master's loss you did," Yoda murmured, his voice an accusation in Anakin's ears.

An accusation that he did not take well.

In a single movement Anakin was on his feet. He stalked towards the ancient green Jedi, aware of nothing but the fury that consumed him. The Council had bowed to the whims of the Senate and placed Obi-Wan in needless danger. However, a large portion of that rage was directed at himself. He had not insisted enough. He should have done as his instincts bade him and gone with Obi-Wan to Ranth'fer.

"I'm going to the Ranth'fer system," Anakin announced, calling his lightsaber back into his hand with the Force.

Yoda immediately shook his head. "Permitted are you not. A padawan only are you. Send others, the Council will."

"So you'll wait," Anakin accused, scowling at the small creature. "You'll risk his life when it's already in danger.

"Disperse your emotions, you must," Yoda instructed. "Such feelings--"

Anakin didn't stay to wait out Yoda's speech as he already knew its contents. Since he was a boy he had been lectured about controlling his emotions. The Jedi would make of him an unfeeling machine, something which Anakin could not bear. Obi-Wan had ceased to enforce the harsh mandate some years back. Within the relative safety of their quarters, Obi-Wan would offer affection when it was necessary. Or, more precisely, when Anakin was in need of it. To be the Chosen One was not an honoured title. The jealousies of the younglings and padawans alike had always been a constant. For a long time he had possessed a great deal of power without control. Learning control had been a long process as Anakin was several years behind his peers who had been trained in the ways of the Force since their earliest years. When he had gained control, the jealousy had only increased and had, at times, become unbearable for him. Obi-Wan had offered a balance to that aggression, giving him far more affection than was proper for a master.

Leaving the training room, Anakin hurried immediately to the landing hanger. He would not wait for the Council to decide what to do. When he returned to Coruscant, Anakin would face whatever punishment the Council insisted upon so long as Obi-Wan was safe with him.

In his office below the Senate building, Palpatine paused in his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. He could easily feel the rage that consumed young Anakin Skywalker. The dark Force sang with it. The Jedi Council had made a grievous mistake in separating Anakin from his master. It had been even more foolhardy for them to send a solitary Jedi to a system where loyalties could be bought so easily.

The Council had done their job so well that all Palpatine had to do was sit back and wait for the right time to seduce Anakin to the dark side of the Force. With Obi-Wan lost amidst the countless slaves that populated the Outer Rim systems, the boy would believe his master dead. Even Palpatine had been able to sense the moment the slavers had placed the Force inhibiting collar on Obi-Wan. Tuned in as he was to Anakin and Obi-Wan's Force signatures he had sensed the very instant when the older Jedi's silenced.

All that he waited for now was for Anakin to come demanding help in rescuing Obi-Wan. Knowing Anakin as well as he did, Palpatine knew that the young man would not wait for the Jedi Council to mount its own rescue mission. The boy would have no stomach for the long debates that would be needed before the Council could reach a decision about what to do about this turn of events. With luck the Council would refuse to acknowledge that Obi-Wan had even survived whatever mishap had befallen him on the Ranth'fer system.

Palpatine scowled briefly, clenching his fist momentarily. Anakin was far more hardheaded than he had given him credit for.

"I need you to set a course for the Ranth'fer system, artoo," Anakin said into the comunit as he navigated his temporarily commandeered starfighter out of Coruscant's atmosphere. "We're going after Obi-Wan."

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