DISCLAIMER: Any plot ideas that are recognisable as being
George Lucas'(and probably a few that aren't) belong to said
man. Star Wars characters: ditto. Everything else: Mine!
SPOILERS: Nuh, uh!
ARCHIVE: MA archive and my homepage,
http://www2.50megs.com/thezoo/Moonmip. All others, please ask!
RATING: NC-17 Angst, drama, Obi-bashing.
WARNINGS: Dark, kinda erotic, slightly gory, has
things-with-fangs.
SUMMARY: Qui-Gon discovers that Obi-Wan is losing energy, but
is unable to find the cause...while Obi-Wan is caught up in
dreams of a mysterious stranger who is far more dangerous than
she seems...and who will stop at nothing to have him.
NOTE: 'Sanguisugae' is the Latin name for a 'leech,' or
'bloodsucker,' predating the term vampyre. All other
information about this creature was made up in my weird mind
and is not actual mythology.
//thoughts
PROLOGUE
She was beautiful.
Oh, so beautiful, was Obi-Wan's dream girl. Her hair dark and
flowing, her mouth sweet and curved, her body lithe and smooth.
Yet she puzzled Obi-Wan, even in his sleep. He had never been
attracted to women, no matter how beautiful, and his burgeoning
desire for his Master had pretty much ensured that he held no
interest in other men, either.
Yet he dreamed of this girl. He did not recognise her at all,
so his subconscious must have formed her from his memories of
other beauties he had seen and recognised as such. She had been
present in his slumber for a week now. At first, she had merely
stood, looking down him as he lay on his bed, sighing gently
while he stared at her wordlessly. But tonight, something was
different.
Tonight, she touched him.
"You are mine," she whispered, trailing a soft hand down his
cheek. He was beyond doing anything but leaning into her touch.
Unnoticed, the word slipped from his throat.
"Yes..."
Her fingers danced over his flesh, but her hands were cold, so
cold.
"Then warm them for me, lover," she sighed. Had he spoken
aloud? He didn't think so, but this was a dream, so did it
matter? He was pulled from further contemplation as one hand
curved around behind his neck, the other sliding down his chest
to tweak his nipple. The cold of her hands on his warm flesh
was extremely arousing and he gasped softly as she trailed her
cold lips down him.
She began at his hairline, moving down his face, licking and
nibbling his forehead, his nose, his chin, his throat. Down
further to his chest and then she was sliding down, one hand
moving to the fastening of his sleep pants.
A choked cry was torn from him as she licked, nibbled and drew
him into her mouth. Cold, oh, she was freezing, even in her
mouth and the sensation drove thought from his mind. She pulled
back, slowly, erotically working her way back up his body, yet
ceasing at his throat.
She flicked her tongue against the side of his throat,
seemingly savouring his taste. He felt the smoothness of her
teeth lying against his flesh, then a swirl of pleasure as she
licked him once more.
"Take me..." she murmured.
He was beyond thought, comprehension, movement, so she
positioned him, lying astride him, taking him within herself.
He nearly lost control at once, she was cold even there.
"Don't fight me, beautiful lover..." she breathed into his ear,
moving him in the timeless dance of love. "Come with me, for
me..." she pulled back to look at him, her eyes blazing with
all-consuming lust. "Come to me..."
A strangled scream and Obi-Wan let go. As the overwhelming
pleasure surged through him, he felt the sensation of her teeth
against his throat again, then a soft prick, like that of a
hyperdermic needle.
An odd feeling began to flood through him, as if his insides
were being drawn up through his body, up to his throat, where
it felt as though she were sucking his soul from him. He came
again from this pleasure, moaning, boneless.
He moaned again as she tore away from his throat, arching into
her touch, trying to keep her there.
"Not tonight, my lover. We run out of time. Dawn comes soon.
But I will come back for you. I promise."
She laid a hand on his throat and he started to feel that it
was now warm, almost painfully so. She stroked him gently and
the soft, persistent pain that had resided there since she had
pulled away vanished.
"Tomorrow, my love. Until then...forget..."
And then his world went dark.
"Obi-Wan! It is past the fifth hour, you should be up.
Breakfast is ready."
The padawan dug his way out his tangled comforter, shying away
from the dawn light. He felt...drained.
For a second, the memory of his dream danced about his head,
but his flailing attempt to catch hold of it and examine it
more closely was foiled by Qui-Gon calling to him once more.
Grumbling to himself, the padawan rose and headed for the
shower unit.
Qui-Gon smiled at his padawan as Obi-Wan joined him at the
breakfast table, then frowned slightly to see how tired his
apprentice looked.
"Obi-Wan, are you well?"
His padawan looked up, startled. "Fine, Master."
Qui-Gon chose his words carefully. "You seem...preoccupied."
Obi-Wan shrugged, languidly stretching his shoulders. His neck
pulled a little, and he frowned, a sliver of memory slipping in
again.
Cold...something cold on his throat, and a slight pain.
He jerked out of his reverie as his Master called his name
again. Qui-Gon looked concerned. "It's nothing, really, Master.
Just a dream I had last night that I am having trouble
recalling."
"Do you think it may have been foresight?" asked the taller
Jedi as he filled his padawan's plate.
"No, Master. It's just irritating me, that's all. I'll examine
it during my meditations later."
Qui-Gon let it pass, and the incident was quickly forgotten as
the two began to discuss that day's activities and their
upcoming mission.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
Obi-Wan twisted in his sleep, hearing the melodic voice of the
girl once more. It was maddening. During the day, she was
nothing more than a vague recollection of cold, sweet passion,
but at night, in his dreams, she leapt into fiery life again.
Tonight, she was not here, but her voice tormented him, called
to him, and he wanted her to come to him. He longed to feel
that mesmerising cold again, the one that could arouse such
passion.
A soft mist seemed to fill his room, shrouding it in white
ghostliness, brushing against his skin. He moaned, arching into
it, pleading for more. It was cold and wet, but not what he
desired.
"Please..." he sighed.
The mist drew back at this, no longer tangling itself around
his body and the bed. It moved toward the foot of his bed,
towards to the door and he moaned. "Don't leave me..."
"Never, my lover. You are mine."
The padawan struggled up, supporting himself on his elbows. He
gaped at the sight before him. The mist retracted all its
grasping tendrils, pulling them in, swirling into the shape of
a woman.
A moment later, the mist was gone, and in its place stood the
girl. He reached for her and she slipped forward, winding her
arms around him as she sat beside him on the bed.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
"Yes!" he cried.
And he was taken.
Obi-Wan stared at the amount of boxes that had been delivered
to their rooms while he and his Master ate breakfast. There
were at least a dozen. Their mission to Gulchlveri was in three
weeks, but there was no possible way he could assimilate all
this information by then!
As he sorted through the boxes, Qui-Gon caught sight of
Obi-Wan's stricken expression. He chuckled. As soon as he did
so, Obi-Wan whipped around, an indignant expression on his
face.
"I'm sorry, padawan. But there really is not as much
information to absorb as you think."
Obi-Wan eyed the boxes suspiciously. "Is this some kind of
metaphysical puzzle?"
Qui-Gon smiled, fondly aware of how much his student disliked
studying metaphysics. "No. I simply mean that these boxes
contain an older style viewer, the Class Four. We routinely use
Class Eight, which is faster, more efficient and more compact."
At Obi-Wan's nod, he continued. "However, all the information
we have on Gulchlveri is stored on Class Four disks, which are
too large to fit into a Class Eight viewer. So we have been
provided with Class Four viewers. The older disks also cannot
store as much data as the new ones."
Obi-Wan mulled it over, while continuously scowling in the
direction of the boxes. "So there's a reasonable amount of
information to absorb, just that its stored on older and bigger
machinery?"
Qui-Gon dipped his head. "Yes. Also the traditional clothing
that we are expected to wear while on the planet." At his
padawan's worried look, he chuckled again. "They are simply
decorated robes, Obi-Wan. Not outlandish clothing on this
mission."
"Okay, then."
Obi-Wan was relieved that there was less work to do, but he
couldn't shake an odd feeling he had. After a few minutes, he
realised that it was a vague unease that the balcony doors were
blocked by the piled up boxes.
Why would he care about that?
The padawan returned to his meal, but was surprised to find his
mind was searching for an explanation to give to Qui-Gon so
that the boxes could be moved, and the balcony free. Why was he
so eager to have it free?
Obi-Wan frowned, glancing up when Qui-Gon called his name.
"Pardon, Master. I was simply trying to think of someplace we
could put the boxes where they wouldn't block the balcony
doors."
His Master blinked at that, then smiled. "Surely you can go
without the balcony for a few days? The boxes will not be there
long."
"I guess," Obi-Wan sighed. "It just looks...messy."
His Master laughed and ruffled his fastidious padawan's hair.
"It's only a few days, padawan, it's not like they are going to
be there forever!"
Obi-Wan forced a grin at his Master before resuming eating. But
his unease with the situation stayed with him, refusing to be
ignored even when he left for the practice hall.
Obi-Wan spun through his leaps and kicks, revelling in the
freedom of a body that obeyed his every command. At least that
was what it was supposed to be.
In actuality, his body felt sluggish, refusing to answer his
mental and physical demands with its usual grace and finesse.
He struggled through his exercises, unhappily aware that he was
not performing them as well as he should be. He turned crimson
under his Master's concerned gaze and threw himself even more
into the effort as Qui-Gon began his own kata.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
Shock thrust deep into Obi-Wan's mind as the phrase whispered
through his mind. He couldn't remember where it was from, but
it stroked passion to life within him, making him gasp. It was
the final straw, and Obi-Wan lost his concentration completely.
He stumbled, right into the path of his Master's lightsabre.
Obi-Wan twisted as fast as he could, moving far more quickly in
that second than he had through the rest of their sparring
session. His reflexes and deep set energy reserves were all
that saved him from a deep 'sabre burn. As it was, the smell of
scorched fabric filled the air.
Quickly surfacing from his kata, Qui-Gon flicked his own 'sabre
off, hooking it to his belt unthinkingly as he went to his
apprentice. Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor, carefully
examining his charred trouser leg.
He looked up as Qui-Gon dropped beside him. "I'm fine, Master,"
he said immediately. "Only a little red, not burned."
"What happened, Padawan? Your concentration just vanished."
Obi-Wan frowned, opening his mouth to speak. A thin line of
confusion appeared on his brow, and he closed his mouth again.
He shook his head. "I don-" his words cut off abruptly as he
suddenly swayed. Alarmed, Qui-Gon put out a hand to steady him
-
- and was horrified by the fatigue that he could feel pouring
off his padawan.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.
An efficacious name. A good, solid title. It indicated a calm
and unruffled bearer, one who could take anything in his
stride.
He wished!
Qui-Gon nibbled his lip as he waited outside the infirmary. His
padawan was inside, being examined by the healers for his
inexplicable level of exhaustion. Inexplicable to Qui-Gon, at
any rate.
Why was Obi-Wan exhausted? How had he been drained to such a
degree?
The Jedi fought the urge to pace, realising that such an action
was not only unproductive, but ridiculous. A Jedi Master,
mooning over his padawan!
Qui-Gon guiltily slammed a shield over his thoughts. He looked
around nervously, to see if anyone had noticed his mental slip.
He sagged in relief that there were none about to notice. He
forced himself back to the issue at hand. Obi-Wan was ill,
needed him. He could contemplate lustful thoughts about his
padawan later.
The Jedi quickly stood as the infirmary door slid open and he
was motioned inside by a padawan healer.
Obi-Wan sat on one of the infirmary beds with a Healer
attending him, the perfect posture of obedience. But long
association with his student allowed Qui-Gon to observe that
his padawan was chafing at being poked and prodded.
"Ah, Master Jinn." The Healer's voice was soft, almost squeaky,
characteristic of the Ewok race. The Healer was in fact
standing on a small platform, allowing him to reach Obi-Wan's
taller height, indeed, just to reach the bed. The sight would
have brought a smile to Qui-Gon's face, along with appreciation
of the diversity of Force-sensitives if not for worry for his
padawan.
At the sight of his Master, Obi-Wan grabbed his robe and began
shrugging into it, obviously eager to leave. A tendril of
concern at his apprentice revealed him to still be frightfully
tired.
He turned his attention back to the Ewok. "Did you find the
cause of my padawan's fatigue?"
The smaller creature waved around a datapad, nodding
emphatically. "I believe so, Master Jinn. Padawan Kenobi is
eighteen, just finishing his growth from puberty. In many
species, humanoids included, the effort put into such a
strenuous growth period results in feelings of fatigue. This,
combined with the vigorous Jedi training, has produced feelings
of tiredness in Padawan Kenobi."
Qui-Gon frowned slightly at this explanation. It didn't
sound...right. "ut Obi-Wan has never experienced any such
effects before."
The Healer snorted. "Not everything can have a precedent Master
Jinn, for that is well nigh impossible. It is exhaustion he
suffers from, caused by growth and lifestyle."
The Ewok sounded completely confident and authoritative, and
Qui-Gon decided to give way gracefully. "What do you suggest I
do to aid Obi-Wan?"
"Let him rest for the remainder of today, and send him to rest
early tonight. He should be much better tomorrow."
Still dubious, but accepting that the healer knew better than
himself, Qui-Gon collected his all too eager padawan and
returned to their quarters.
Obi-Wan sighed as he flopped himself back on his pillows. Rest
was boring.
His Master had insisted that he stay in their quarters and rest
- he wouldn't even allow him to perform light katas. He'd spent
a few hours in meditation, but had surfaced feeling less than
relaxed. And as night came closer, he felt more and more
restless.
More than once, he caught himself looking at the boxes in front
of the balcony door.
Why?
Directly after their dinner, his Master had insisted he get a
good night's sleep, and had all but pushed him into his room.
He knew that his Master doubted the Healer's explanation for
his exhaustion, but Obi-Wan himself was unworried. He was
probably just working to hard.
Unable to think of anything else to do, knowing Qui-Gon would
have his head if he set foot outside his room, Obi-Wan began to
revise katas in his head.
Eventually he drifted off to sleep
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
Obi-Wan twisted on the bed, his face lightly sprayed with
sweat.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
"Yes..." he gasped, reaching for her.
But she wasn't there, no matter how much he begged. She wasn't
in his room, he couldn't see her face, feel her flesh. And he
wanted to, so badly. No sign of her, only that maddening
whisper, over and over again.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
"Want to, but can't find you..." he strained for her. "Where-"
And after a long silence, she crooned to him again. "I'm
outside, lover. I cannot get in. Do you not want me anymore? Is
that why you bar the door against me?"
The padawan writhed against the sheets, the cool tones burning
into his mind. "Want you...help me have you..."
"Then come to me, my lover. Come. Come with me, for me...Come
to me..."
His mind was filled with an image of her and Obi-Wan's eyes
snapped open. In the moonlight, they were steely grey and
tinged with desire.
"I come to you..."
He slid off the bed.
Qui-Gon woke.
He instantly pinpointed the sound that had drawn his attention
and pulled him from sleep - a soft, persistent scrabbling
sound. Silently rising from his bed and grasping
He started in surprise when he recognised Obi-Wan's form
standing over the boxes piled in front of the balcony doors.
With jerking, yet methodical movements, his padawan was pulling
the containers away from the doorway, piling them haphazardly
to the side. Sending out a query to his apprentice's mind, he
was startled again to realise that Obi-Wan was still asleep.
He was sleepwalking.
Tying his robe around him, the Jedi Master stepped forward,
gently catching his apprentice's wrist as Obi-Wan dropped one
box and moved to pick up another. The young man paused, not
struggling against him, just waiting.
A brief sound, almost a hiss, from the balcony dragged
Qui-Gon's mind away from the dilemma of waking Obi-Wan or not.
Frowning slightly, he looked out the balcony windows, now
visible thanks to his padawan's somnolent cleaning activities.
For a moment, he believed he saw a shadow skittle across the
far edge of the small verandah, but as he kept watching, the
movement was not repeated.
//Probably a kaassa bird// he thought. The creatures were the
only wildlife that thrived in the wild wind currents that
existed this high up in the busy Coruscant skies. The often
hung on the railings of Temple balconies, lazily flapping their
thinly membraned wings in the sunlight, communicating in harsh
croaks. While Qui-Gon had never heard one hiss before, he
figured there was first for everything.
The Master returned his attention to his padawan, who still
waited patiently, his face still smoothed in sleep. Deciding
against waking his charge, the older Jedi gently guided Obi-Wan
past the chaotically piled boxes into his own room. He
carefully lay the younger man down, drawing the blankets gently
around him.
A brief hesitation, and then he softly pulled his fingers
across his apprentice's forehead, making sure the young man
would not awake until Qui-Gon released the sleeping impulse. It
would prevent him straying in his sleep again, and Qui-Gon knew
he would rest far easier as long as he knew that Obi-Wan was
staying put.
Once Obi was deeply asleep, the Master yawned and made his way
back to his own room. Deciding he himself was too tired to
think about it now, he promised himself that he would restack
the boxes the next day. As he passed the piled receptacles, he
didn't see the shadow return to the balcony, or hear the deep
displeased growl that accompanied it.
Obi-Wan stretched happily, secure in the knowledge that his
performances in his katas today was nearly at his normal
standard. Far better than yesterday, at any rate. His Master
was also pleased.
In fact, Qui-Gon was more than pleased. He gladly took back any
suspicious thoughts that he had had about the Healer and his
diagnosis; today Obi-Wan was almost his normal self.
However, he was still a little concerned and wary about a
relapse. As a result, he called off their training after only a
two hour period, deciding that the rest of the day could be
spent in less strenuous activities.
So it was after lunch that the two tackled the boxes that were
stored in their rooms, removing the viewers from them and
beginning to analyse the data chips. They were attending a
wedding on Gulchlveri, and while less perilous than a
diplomatic negotiation mission, there were still many protocols
and formulas to learn.
Something nagged at Obi-Wan as they worked, but it wasn't until
late afternoon that he twigged. "Master, did you move the
boxes?"
Qui-Gon looked up in surprise. Obi-Wan didn't remember? Of
course not, he was asleep. Force only knew what he had been
dreaming about. "I did padawan. This morning."
Obi-Wan frowned, turning the information over in his mind as
Qui-Gon continued to analyse their mission data. When had
Qui-Gon had the time to do that? And why did he do it. Why did
Obi-Wan care?
Once more, he felt his attention being drawn to balcony doors,
and felt an odd shiver when he noticed that they were still
mostly blocked. With a forcible shake, the padawan looked back
at his work. His mind was wandering a great deal lately, he'd
have to work harder. Too much spare time, that was it. And as
for that unfulfilled feeling inside him? He'd simply ignore it.
Qui-Gon's brow creased as he saw his padawan rub his neck. It
was a gesture that he had seen Obi-Wan perform unconsciously
over the last few days, particularly when he had a faraway,
contemplative expression on his features. He briefly wondered
if it were connected to Obi-Wan's fatigue, then dismissed the
thought as ridiculous.
However, his padawan was yawning a great deal, as well as still
behaving slightly oddly. The Jedi Master resolved to make sure
that his padawan enjoyed another night of uninterrupted sleep.
That way he would wake refreshed, and would not go
sleepwalking again.
The soft scrabbling sound barely broke the night's stillness,
as its perpetrator intended. A soft thud indicated that
something had just landed on the balcony, and after a long
moment, there was a quiet creak as the handle of the balcony
doors began to turn.
Fully unlatched, the doors undulated slightly, as if something
was pressing against it. The boxes in front of the doors
shivered, but held. The door could not be opened.
A snarling hiss, no louder than a gentle exhalation of breath
echoed on the balcony, then the shadow upon it vanished.
The moonlight was bright, but not full, no, the full moon was
tomorrow night. It tumbled across Obi-Wan's bed, easily
highlighting and emphasising his sleeping features.
Another soft, scrabbling sound, and the light was suddenly
different. Moonlight still filled the room, but now it spilled
around the shadow of a woman, cast from the window. The shadow
stood for long moments, accompanied by a soft, crooning sound.
At no visible effect from the crooning, the shadow wavered, and
slowly dissipated into mist. The mist brushed against the thick
glass of the window, dampening it. The crooning sound began
again, interspersed with soft growls as time wore on.
Obi-Wan sighed softly in his sleep, undisturbed due to
Qui-Gon's sleeping impulse. He didn't hear the snarls, the
croons, nor the hiss of spite as dawn approached and the mist
faded from the window.
He did not hear a thing.
Obi-Wan paused, surveying the nearly cleared balcony. A faint
whisper came to him, a relief that the boxes were being moved,
but he couldn't remember why. With a shrug, he resumed the last
of his unpacking. By this afternoon, he would have finished
analysing all this information.
The padawan had better things on his mind than mere imaginings.
Tonight was the birthday of Bant, and he and his friend were
going out to celebrate. Obi-Wan was fully recovered from his
unusual bout of fatigue, and his Master was allowing him to go
out and enjoy himself - on the proviso that he come home within
a time limit specified by his Master.
While the limit was kind of early, Obi-Wan was willing to
humour his Master - the man was only looking out for his
well-being, after all.
Qui-Gon sighed as he stretched out on his bed. He was unsure
why, but he felt unease that Obi-Wan was out.
//Stop fussing, Qui!// he told himself. //Let him have time
with his friends. You can't expect him to tie himself to an
aging Master when he is still so young//.
Yet a few hours later, the Jedi Master was still awake. He
simply couldn't sleep until Obi-Wan was home safe. Qui-Gon
checked the chronometer and sighed. Still some time before
Obi-Wan was due in. He supposed he should just start reading
then, for it was obvious that he wasn't going to sleep until he
knew for certain that his padawan was well.
"Catch you tomorrow, Obi!"
The padawan waved cheerfully to his best friend as he headed
away from her quarters, towards the lift that would take him to
his own level. He hummed happily. Being with Bant always
cheered him, she was naturally optimistic.
Thinking about the evenings activities made a warm glow in his
stomach, reminding him that he was loving and loved. If only he
could share such feelings with his Master...
His Master! Obi-Wan quickly checked his timepiece, and sighed
in relief when he saw he was within the time limit. Thank
goodness for that. A worried Qui-Gon was an angry Qui-Gon, and
that was the last thing he wanted.
The lift doors opened and Obi-Wan began his trek down the
corridor to his quarters. The hallway was wide and gracefully
curving, bright moonlight poured in through the windows that
spanned the entire hallway on one side.
Reaching his and his Master's rooms, the Jedi moved to enter
the lock code for his door.
"Come with me, for me...Come to me..."
The padawan froze. That voice...but it couldn't be. That was a
dream.
Obi-Wan hesitated for a long moment. He listened, waiting to
see if the soft whisper was repeated. It was not.
The padawan shrugged and opened his quarter's door. //More
tired than you thought, Kenobi. Better go in before Qui-Gon has
me shot//
In the corridor, moonlight glinted off a pair of eyes briefly,
before they sank back into the darkness.
Qui-Gon finally allowed himself to relax when he hear Obi-Wan
come in from his night out. A glance at the chronometer
indicated that he had come home inside the Council-set time
limit. Also well within the much earlier time frame he himself
had set, mindful of his padawan's recent ill health.
Finally, he could sleep.
It was deep into the night when he awoke next. Faint moonlight
slid in through the windows, thin bars across the pillow, but
that was not what had woken him. He frowned, listening.
He heard it again, a vague rumbling sound. Traffic, he
realised. He could hear traffic. That brought a frown, why
could he hear that? All the windows were sealed and inoperable,
that left the balcony doors. Had Obi-Wan opened them?
Not enough to worry him normally, he pulled himself out of bed.
No, normally he would return to sleep, but with Obi-Wan's odd
behaviour and fatigue lately, he felt compelled to investigate
further.
Wrapping his cloak around himself as a makeshift blanket, he
frowned again. It was too cold, and as he stepped into the
steeped darkness of the main room, he saw that the balcony
doors were indeed open, the unceasing hum of traffic louder in
here. He strode to the doors, looking out. He glanced briefly,
as he always did, out at the ground, many thousands of feet
below. The small, enclosed area was empty, if Obi-Wan had
indeed opened the doors, he had left them wide when he had
returned to bed.
That gave him pause. Had Obi-Wan returned to his room? Pulling
the doors in, the lock snicking softly closed, he hesitated. As
he debated the merits of checking on his padawan, he heard
another sound.
He looked briefly back to the doors, but no, closed, no sound
could come through. The soft sound came again, almost a cry.
Coming from Obi-Wan's room. Moving before he thought, Qui-Gon
stopped outside his padawan's door. The soft sound came again,
a moan. And another sound, a soft sucking sound. Perhaps his
padawan had company.
More confused now, he looked toward the main door. The
electronic lock told him clearly the time the door had been
sealed for the night. No, no-one could be in there with
Obi-Wan, as no one had come in the main door, the only entrance
to their quarters.
Thoroughly bewildered, Qui-Gon moved into Obi-Wan's room.
More so than his had been, Obi-Wan's room was drenched in
moonlight, bright and silver. It illuminated the room clearly,
his padawan silhouetted, laying sideways on the bed, hands
weakly gripping the coverlet, the girl on top of him, kissing
his neck, stroking his face.
Qui-Gon, Jedi trained or not, could not suppress the soft gasp.
How had she gotten in? The door had said -
Qui-Gon slowly became aware that something was not right.
Obi-Wan lay still, barely moving, though moaning softly as the
girl kissed him. But she had not moved from his neck, and those
strange sucking sounds continued.
Bathed in silver, he could make out few features of the woman,
save her long dark hair and lithe figure. She shifted slightly,
and Obi-Wan cried out again. He tipped his head to the side,
eyes falling on his master, but obviously sightless as Obi-Wan
didn't register his presence. The girl pulled him up, drawing
him into an embrace, never moving her lips from his neck.
Obi-Wan's head fell back, his eyes closed.
Diffident, Qui-Gon reached out with the Force to check on his
padawan, only to recoil violently at what he felt. Every sense
he had, Force and otherwise, told him that only one person was
before him, his padawan. He could not feel the girl within the
Force, but that was impossible! The Force was all living
things, and all living things could be felt through it.
Conscious thoughts were erased as the girl seemed to hear him
and looked up. With her face turned to him, moonlight from the
window flooded her features. Her mouth was drawn back in a
snarl and he could see her teeth were painted red. A dribble of
blood ran from the corner of her mouth. He jerked his gaze to
Obi-Wan, releasing a shout as he saw the blood trickling down
his padawan's neck. Suddenly much was clear.
At his cry, the girl hurled herself at him with incredible
speed, teeth bared, revealing sharp incisors. Obi-Wan fell back
on the bed as she released him, not moving. Shocked, Qui-Gon
gave ground, backing into the living room, the sanguisugae(for
that was what he was sure she was) following.
She stalked him back through the living room towards his own
room, a low rumble emerging from her throat, deep, threatening.
While carefully backpedalling, Qui-Gon felt simultaneous relief
and consternation as they moved further from Obi-Wan. On the
one hand, the farther away he pulled the sanguisugae, the safer
Obi-Wan was. On the other hand, it was obvious that the
sanguisugae was deliberately driving him away from his student
- viewing him as a threat to her feeding.
The girl drew her lips back from teeth still stained with
Obi-Wan's blood. The sight of it caused a rush of nausea to
Qui-Gon's stomach, but it also heightened his resolve.
Gathering the Force to him, he leapt backwards into his room,
calling his 'sabre to him in a smooth, controlled movement.
The sanguisugae came with him, moving as quickly as he did. The
second his hands closed on his 'sabre he brought it up and
activated it. It struck the girl as her long-nailed hand snaked
toward his throat. There was a hideous screech as the
sanguisugae's flesh contacted with the pure energy column of
the lightsabre's blade. She leapt backwards, clasping her
wounded arm and snarling viciously.
It was her turn to back away, she retreated into the living
room as Qui-Gon had done before. She seemed almost afraid of
the 'sabre, flinching away every time the green blade swung
near. Qui-Gon drove her toward the open balcony doors, using
his 'sabre to ensure she didn't slip past him to Obi-Wan. It
was clear she was thinking of him; the sanguisugae's eyes kept
flicking between the door to Obi-Wan's room, the 'sabre and the
doors.
Mercilessly wielding the 'sabre, the Jedi Master coerced the
being into withdrawing right to the doors. The demon screeched
again, a piercing, drawn out scream, before hissing spitefully
at him. She tossed one final glance in Obi-Wan's direction,
then growled. To Qui-Gon, it eerily spoke of promise, and there
was no doubt as to the meaning of the vow.
She would be back for Obi-Wan.
Then, so quickly that only a being with enhanced speed could
see, she turned and dove out onto the balcony, slamming the
doors open and back, catching the railing with one hand,
vaulting herself over into the driving hum of the Coruscant
night sky. Qui-Gon lunged forward, hands closing around the
door handles. He jerked the doors back in, closing them,
locking them, sealing them. He backed up the lock with Force,
ensuring no more visits this night, before turning and running
to Obi-Wan's room.
His padawan lay inert on the bed, semi conscious and moaning.
Blood still flowed from the gash on his throat, and Qui-Gon
quickly applied himself to healing it.
"Obi-Wan, can you hear me? Can you answer me, padawan?"
Soft groans were his only response, and Qui-Gon quickly wrapped
his apprentice in his blanket, intent on taking him to the
healers, now.
He froze, however, at the sound of someone trying to access
their chambers. Was the creature returning for his padawan? He
grasped hold of his 'sabre firmly as he heard the door hum and
slide open.
A shadow appeared in the doorway, and Qui-Gon prepared to
defend his padawan and himself. However, he nearly dropped his
'sabre as Councillor Adi Gallia emerged, her own 'sabre at the
ready.
"Qui-Gon! Is it gone?" The Councillor's worried eyes were on
Obi-Wan.
The Jedi Master nearly sagged in relief. "Yes. I drove it out.
But I don't know how much blood he's lost..."
"Carry him. I'll keep an eye out, but I don't think the
sanguisugae will be back tonight."
Qui-Gon needed no second urging. He slid his arms beneath his
apprentice, lifting him easily. Within moments, they were on
their way to the infirmary.
Once they were in the elevator - no chance of attack in there -
Qui-Gon relaxed enough to satisfy his curiosity.
"How did you know? What was happening, I mean?"
The youthful Councillor member's face hardened, as did her grip
on her 'sabre. "I could ask you much the same, Master Jinn."
Curious and not a little worried, he was curt in his reply. "I
have studied the myths of many cultures, only to find them
real. The sanguisugae was one of them. A family friend was
killed by one."
Gallia nodded slowly, relaxing imperceptibly, only to tighten
up again as the elevator doors slid open on the infirmary
level. "I sensed the creature, during my late meditations. I
have..." her face twisted bitterly, "...intimate knowledge of
them. My own family was plagued by one of these creatures. It
was killed when I was a teenager."
"Killed?" Qui-Gon allowed his voice to brighten with hope.
The Councillor's glance was sympathetic. "Yes, Qui-Gon. The
only way we can save Obi-Wan from it will be to kill it."
They reached the infirmary and quickly hustled inside.
Qui-Gon danced anxiously from foot to foot as Councillor Gallia
explained to Healer Travani just what had occurred while the
medic examined his apprentice. As the Healer set up an
intravenous drip, the Jedi Master was mildly surprised that
Travani took it all in his stride. He too, must have heard of
these creatures before.
"I will need to run some tests on Obi-Wan, Masters. This should
just take a moment. I have already started giving Obi-Wan some
blood, but the tests will determine how much he needs. Keep him
warm." The Healer hesitated. "Are you sure what this was,
Qui-Gon? I pray that you were wrong."
"It was a sanguisugae," said Qui-Gon firmly. "There is no doubt
in it."
The Healer shook his head, sadly. "Then your padawan is in
grave danger."
As the man moved off to perform his tests, Qui-Gon gently
soothed a hand across his apprentice's brow. It was still far
too cool, blood loss resulting in the shivers across his
padawan's body. Obi-Wan moaned, twisting his head and yet
arching into his touch. "Easy, padawan," he murmured. "You are
safe now."
Healer Travani returned, holding the datachip containing the
results of Obi-Wan's tests in one hand. His face was stoic as
he approached Qui-Gon and the Councillor.
"What have you found, Travani?" asked Adi Gallia. "The cause
for Obi-Wan's fatigue?"
The Healer nodded, looking far from pleased. "I am not
surprised that Padawan Kenobi is fatigued. I am
surprised that he has held out against collapse this long. At
this point, he has less than half his blood capacity in his
body."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened in horror even as the Councillor's did.
"That is indeed much blood loss. It is fortuitous that you
found him when you did, Qui-Gon, or you might no longer have a
padawan."
"Are you replacing the blood?" Qui-Gon had sufficiently
recovered his composure to focus on the immediate problem, his
padawan's health.
Travani nodded. "By this dusk tonight he should have full blood
capacity. But it would be better if he remained here another
few days, to make sure that he suffers no other side effects
from the attack. We know almost nothing about these creatures,
we don't know if they cause other damage.
Qui-Gon indicated vaguely that he understood, but his mind was
preoccupied. Adi Gallia looked at him for a long moment, then
touched him gently on the arm, a gesture of comfort.
"Yes, Qui-Gon," she murmured. "Another problem we have. She
will return for Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon was angry. Very angry.
He was angry at Obi-Wan, for not telling him about his fatigue
sooner, at Gallia, for not sensing the presence of the
sanguisugae sooner, angry at the creature for attacking his
padawan, angry at the Healer's for misdiagnosing Obi-Wan's
fatigue.
Angry at himself for being oblivious to the danger Obi-Wan was
in.
And afraid.
It was only a short time later that Obi-Wan awoke.
"What happened?" he murmured, wincing against the bright light.
Gallia dimmed the lights, but her voice was stern. "First, we
must ask you some questions padawan, so your views are
not coloured by the knowledge we give you."
The youth looked vaguely confused, but nodded obediently.
"Good. Now tell me, padawan, how long have you been having the
dreams?"
Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan froze. Somehow, Qui-Gon forced himself
to stay his tongue until he had heard Obi-Wan's response.
"About a week," Obi-Wan's voice was quiet. "Maybe two."
"Tell me, " the Councillor urged softly and something in her
expression made Obi-Wan comply.
"She just watched at first...she confused me, I knew she wasn't
someone I'd seen before. I thought that my subconscious had
just made her up." The padawan shifted uneasily. "Then she
started touching me. Her hands were cold, very cold. She was
cold everywhere. Even..."
He trailed off, blushing in shame, but Gallia merely smiled
encouragingly. This confirmed her fears. "It is alright
padawan. I think we understand what you mean. How often did she
come to you?"
The padawan's forehead creased as he recalled what he thought
to be phantasms. "Several times before she touched me. But only
twice when we..." he trailed off again. Then he frowned. "But
after that, I think it was the next night, she didn't come. But
she spoke to me, and said I had locked her out. All I remember
after that was waking up the next day."
"Boxes," Qui-Gon said abruptly.
"Huh?" But even as he said it, Obi-Wan dawned in understanding.
"You mean she was REAL??!"
Qui-Gon looked to the Councillor, who shrugged. He took that as
confirmation to go ahead. "Yes, padawan. The night you speak
of, I woke to an odd, scrabbling sound. I went out into the
main room to see and you were there."
"I don't remember that," Obi-Wan was puzzled.
"Nonetheless, you were standing before all those boxes that
were blocking the balcony doors. You were methodically removing
them and placing them to one side."
"To let her in..." Obi-Wan said slowly. Both Masters before him
nodded.
Obi-Wan was silent, contemplating this news as Qui-Gon
continued to speak. His Master was watching Adi Gallia as he
voiced his questions. "I took Obi-Wan back to bed and put a
sleep impulse on him to stop him from straying again. I did the
same the last night to make sure he got a full night's rest. I
had no idea. I thought it was only sleepwalking."
The Jedi sounded upset at his misperception. Then something
occurred to him. "Dreams?"
Gallia smiled wanly. "A being is most susceptible to influence
in a dream state. Obviously she came for Obi-Wan and fed while
he was asleep, or rather, hovering between sleep and
wakefulness. When Obi-Wan sleepwalked, the creature must have
been unable to get inside. So she tried to manipulate Obi-Wan
into allowing her inside. When you put the sleep impulse on
him, she could no longer control him. His subconscious and
conscious minds were too far submerged for her to rest."
"We moved the last of the boxes this afternoon. And tonight, I
didn't put a sleep impulse on him..."
"So she could get to him," Gallia finished.
"Uh, excuse me..." a soft voice came from the bed. The two Jedi
Masters had nearly forgotten Obi-Wan's presence. "But what
was that thing? And why was it..." the padawan's face
took on a faintly nauseous expression as memory served him. "It
was feeding on me..."
Qui-Gon decided that the best way to break the news was the
direct approach. "It was a sanguisugae, padawan. In Basic,
'leech,' or 'bloodsucker.'"
"Heh. Bloodsuckers are real after all." Obi-Wan closed his eyes
for a moment, then opened them again. He didn't seem all that
surprised, but then again, the creature had been feeding off
him. Curiosity sharpened his gaze as he saw the Councillor
hesitating over some words.
"There is more, Obi-Wan." Gallia's voice was gentle, but
Obi-Wan tensed nonetheless. " This particular being came after
you because it can only consume members of a certain genetic
line."
Obi-Wan stared at his Master and the Councillor in shock. "Are
you telling me," he said faintly. "That this...this
vampyre only eats members of my family?"
Gallia dipped head in assent. "Essentially, yes. Each is bound
to a certain clan or family group, and cannot drink of any
outside that clan. If the family dies out, then the sanguisugae
starves to death."
Obi-Wan leaned back against his pillows, trying to wrap his
mind around it. Idly, he traced the trail of the intravenous
drip that was replenishing the fluid stolen from his body with
his eyes. "Okay, so she can only consume my family members.
But, why? I mean, was she a curse cast by someone else upon my
family, or what?"
Qui-Gon felt a chill slip through him as Obi-Wan continually
referred to the thing as 'she'. He was personifying it, was
almost familiar with it, and Qui-Gon didn't like that at all.
But Adi Gallia was explaining to Obi-Wan again, and Qui-Gon's
knowledge of sanguisugae was not so great that he could afford
to ignore it.
"The sanguisugae protects the family, ensuring it's survival.
I'm sure that many times in your family's background, they have
been aided by the woman you saw. The sanguisugae loves the
family, cares for it, but in return, occasionally requires
sustenance from one of the members. It seems that you have been
chosen for this honour."
Obi-Wan sat bolt upright in his bed, then winced as his
exhaustion pulled at him. "Honour!!!" Qui-Gon frowned as well.
But Gallia continued implacably. "To the creature itself, this
is an honour. It is being allowed to take of your blood
to live"
Qui-Gon snorted. "It is not exactly as if Obi-Wan is allowing
it to take his blood."
Obi-Wan coloured at this and Qui-Gon stared at him. "Obi-Wan?"
The padawan squirmed slightly. "Not exactly willing...but not
exactly unwilling either."
Qui-Gon was about to say more, but Gallia silenced him. "It is
not your fault, padawan. These creatures are...shall we say, on
the same psychic wavelength? as their prey. It can call to you
on a deeply genetic level and you cannot resist it. You are in
no way responsible for what happens, but neither can you stop
it. There is no known way to prevent a host family responding
to the sanguisugae call."
"Oh," said Obi-Wan, dully. "So I guess I'm the sacrificial
lambchop, then?"
"No," said the Councillor quietly. "But you have been chosen to
inherit your family's fortune debt."
"Great," said the padawan, his voice almost a sob, "death
inherited."
Qui-Gon slipped quietly from Obi-Wan's room. His padawan was
sleeping now, the best way for his system to adjust to its
recent shocks and not just the physical.
After a last, long look at his apprentice, the Jedi Master
turned to Councillor Gallia. She looked sympathetic. "Your
padawan took that better than I expected."
"Perhaps in the same way that the creature is tied to him, he
has always known of its existence." He shrugged, his face
hardening. "That is irrelevant to me. I want to know how to
kill it."
The Councillor did not censure him for his harsh view, after
all, she shared them, but she did raise an eyebrow. "This is
unlike you, Qui-Gon. Usually you try any path out of a
predicament before resorting to death. A side effect of your
belief in the living Force, I always thought."
Qui-Gon nodded slightly, but his voice was rough. "I treasure
life itself and all living things, But what attacked my padawan
was not alive. I reached out and felt nothing
from it through the Force. This being is a parasite, determined
to consume my padawan. I have no intention of letting that
happen."
Gallia examined him for a long moment, then sighed, her
expression sombre. "You are right. These beings are not truly
alive, but nor are they dead. They know nothing of morals, only
of the family they protect and the hunger they have for the
blood. She has marked Obi-Wan. And the only time she will let
him go is when she is dead."
Qui-Gon dipped his head in a quick, sharp movement. "So what
can we do?"
The room was ancient, perhaps built even before the Temple high
above it was even thought of. Its walls were panelled with deep
brown wood, though its extreme age had caused no decay in the
panels. It was perhaps twenty feet wide, a shallow depression
that spread out like a pool from the steps leading into it.
At the front of the room, or rather the end opposite the
staircase, was a small raised area, perhaps an altar of the
original inhabitants of Coruscant. When Obi-Wan touched it, he
could almost smell soft breezes and fragrant plants, remnant
Force memories of a time when the altar was outside, long
before Coruscant became a city.
The entire chamber spoke of great age and wisdom, humming with
Force. Obi-Wan could feel why the Temple was built above it.
"It will service us well, I think." The padawan looked up as
his Master and Councillor Gallia entered the room.
He had been taken off the drip, the Healer confidant that he
was back to full blood capacity. He still felt a little woozy,
but he was assured it would past. As soon as the Healer had
given leave, he had been brought down to the very depths of the
Temple. He had never been down this far before, indeed, had no
knowledge that rooms existed down here.
But here was an ancient chapel, and his Master and Councillor
Gallia planned to use it to trap and kill the creature that
seemed determined to feast on his blood.
"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed to Gallia's statement. "One entrance,
easily defendable, and locations for you to lay waiting until
my call. We should be able to trap her easily in here."
"We should ready now. It is past dusk and it'll come for him
soon."
"Are you sure she'll be able to find me?" He looked at the
faces of his two elder Jedi, and realised just how afraid they
were. Possibly almost as afraid as he was but he doubted it.
They were not on the dinner menu.
"She will, padawan. She can sense you easily. She will come for
you."
Obi-Wan shuddered and turned away, pretending to take comfort
in his Master's hand on his shoulder. But he was more concerned
about his feelings at the moment. He wanted her to come
to him, he couldn't deny it.
Yet at the same time, he was terrified.
Time dragged on slowly as Obi-Wan and his Master waited for the
sanguisugae to appear. Obi-Wan dozed a little, from boredom
more than anything else. The longer they waited, the more his
fear was dulled.
And the more his desire to see her inflamed him.
His Master was vigilant, 'sabre in hand, only taking his eyes
of the door for mere seconds when he did so, and then only to
check on his padawan. Qui-Gon was alert, wary, knowing each
second dragged them closer to conflict. He periodically checked
his temporary mindlink with Adi Gallia, ensuring she stood
ready to aid when he called her.
As he did so once more, growing more edgy the longer he waited,
a soft, chill wind seemed to blow around the room. The Jedi was
sure that if candles had been in the room, they surely would
have been extinguished. An odd, almost dreamlike air seemed to
gently fill the chamber.
Qui-Gon looked around nervously as the odd feeling in the room
increased. His hand twitched, and in a quick motion, he drew
his 'sabre, but did not ignite it. He stepped closer to his
apprentice, who was looking around apprehensively. Clearly, he
could feel the odd sense too.
"Qui-Gon, look..."
At the soft words of his padawan, the Jedi Master looked where
he was indicating. His mouth and eyes opened wide in
astonishment.
Liquid darkness was sliding down the steps to the chapel. There
was no other way to describe it. The dark light oozed in
through the chinks and cracks of the closed old doors, pooling
on the steps and spreading gently before them.
If he tipped his head to one side and really listened,
Qui-Gon thought he could hear a whisper.
Come with me, for me...Come to me...
Tendrils of the darkness swirled around their feet, washing up
against them like the rising tide.
"Ohhhhh..."
Qui-Gon whipped around to see Obi-Wan leaning backwards against
the ancient altar. He was breathing heavily, his face a mask of
ecstasy as the darkness caressed him. He reached out as shaking
hand towards the absence of light.
The fluid blackness swirled around Obi-Wan, puddling at his
feet, before pulling back slightly. It wound itself up into a
column before the padawan and a single tendril reached out to
trail across his face.
Then suddenly the black surged and rippled into the form of a
woman and in its place stood the sanguisugae, gently stroking
Obi-Wan's cheek. Qui-Gon watched in sick horror as Obi-Wan
arched into the touch.
"Yes..." he murmured. "You came back to me..."
The sanguisugae responded with snarls and growls, but from his
padawan's reaction, it appeared that to Obi-Wan the creature
spoke in soft sighs and smiles. Even though he knew his padawan
was helpless against it, it was terrible to see Obi-Wan submit
so willingly.
A non-stunned part of the Jedi Master's mind noted that the
wound he had inflicted upon the creature when she had last come
for Obi-Wan was entirely gone. How had she healed so quickly?
Was it due to the blood that she tore from Obi-Wan's body?
Analysis was thrown aside as the sanguisugae leant in and
licked Obi-Wan's throat. The padawan threw his head back to
allow further access, pulling the daemon closer.
"Please..." he whispered. "More...take...all of it..."
Before Jinn knew it, he was moving, his long legs bringing him
quickly to the two before him. The sanguisugae ignored him,
intent on her prize, and so it was easy for the Jedi Master to
close his fist about her upper arm and throw her away from
Obi-Wan. He was shocked to find her skin felt as cold as snow,
just as Obi-Wan told him.
//Gallia! It's here!// he threw out the warning, barely feeling
her acknowledgement before giving his full attention to the
sanguisugae.
The creature snapped spitefully at him, pulling herself to her
feet. Her movements were tense, poised and her threat was
clear. To stand aside and let her at Obi-Wan, or to die. In
response, Qui-Gon hefted his lightsabre and ignited it. The
sanguisugae flinched from the bright green blade, but her
desire for Obi-Wan overcame her fear, and she rushed at him
almost faster than he could see.
He swung once.
The scream that emerged from the lips of the sanguisugae was
horrific, almost ear splitting in its shrillness. Obi-Wan
screamed with her and ran to her, but Qui-Gon caught his
padawan around his waist. The apprentice fought furiously,
hissing at Qui-Gon, but it was too late.
The head of the daemon was only half severed from its body, and
the being staggered, blood gushing from the terrible wound of a
neck half torn from the shoulders. She continued to scream, the
screams growing progressively louder and higher in pitch as the
blood that filled her, the blood she had stolen from others,
fled her body.
The sanguisugae's screams grew even more high pitched, and
Obi-Wan ceased struggling to throw his hands over his ears.
Wincing at the pain but not daring to release his padawan,
Qui-Gon endured it, though he closed his eyes against the
sight.
Then the screaming stopped.
A hand clenched around the Jedi Master's neck.
Qui-Gon's eyes flew open to see the sanguisugae before him, her
face a snarling visage of glee, one hand wrapped around his
throat, squeezing terribly. He tried to scream reflexively, for
her neck was still torn and the blood sheeted on to him in a
terrible torrent.
He fumbled for his lightsabre even as he struggled for breath,
only to have another iron fist clench around his own and force
it from his hand.
//Obi-Wan!//
But his apprentice's eyes held no recognition, he was entirely
under the thrall of the daemon and doing what he could to aid
her. Obi-Wan cried out in triumph as he threw his Master's
lightsabre aside, away from the sanguisugae. The daemon herself
crowed victoriously and lifted her free hand. She backhanded
Qui-Gon so hard he struck the wall and his vision dimmed.
Only vaguely did he see her pull Obi-Wan toward her. In a
painful haze, he saw his padawan wrap his arms around the
daemon and pull her head to his neck. The last thing he
recollected was her driving her fangs into Obi-Wan's throat.
Where the hell was their help?
Soft suckling noises accompanied Qui-Gon's awakening and he
wondered how long he'd been out. Reality slammed into focus,
however, when he saw the sanguisugae still feasting on his
padawan.
//Oh, Force, how long was I out? How much blood has Obi-Wan
lost?//
Qui-Gon stumbled to his feet, calling his lightsabre to him. He
ignited it and advanced on the sanguisugae.
So enamoured with her feeding was she that she did not hear his
approach. But Qui-Gon steadily moved closer, wary of her. He
noticed in dread that the terrible wound in her throat had
almost closed, the same as the wound on her arm was. Only a
thin trickle of blood came from the once horrific, gaping
wound, it had sealed itself. It had to be Obi-Wan's blood, what
she craved and needed, that could regenerate her so quickly.
Obi-Wan moaned as the creature fed on him, his hands trying
weakly to push her away. But he was feeble from blood loss and
his head fell back again, his hands slipping away.
Qui-Gon saw his padawan drag his eyes open, focusing them on
the eyes of his Master. His mouth and throat worked, but no
sound emerged. However it was clear what he was trying to say,
the word mouth clearly.
...please...don't...want...die...
Qui-Gon surged forward until he loomed over the entwined two,
hefting his 'sabre high.
"Daemon!" he bellowed.
With a screech, the sanguisugae's head flew up, blood and drool
painting her face. She thrust Obi-Wan from her and leapt at
Qui-Gon. He swung his lightsabre once more.
And struck true.
There was no scream this time, the head severed cleanly from
the throat. Indeed, not even any blood gushed forth, for the
wound was cauterised neatly by the 'sabre blade. For a moment,
the body staggered, then it tumbled to the floor.
From where it had fallen when struck off, the head's eyes
blinked, opened wide. The mouth was flung open, emitting a
silent scream, but almost as soon as this was done, the eyes
went blank.
It was dead.
Qui-Gon stared in shock for a second. Could it truly be
finished?
He advanced slowly, 'sabre ready. He moved to the head first,
but it didn't move. Carefully, tentatively, he reached out and
touched it with his 'sabre. The second the green blade touched
the head, it began to dissolve. It crumbled down into dust, but
with a side effect that had Qui-Gon leaping back with a
startled oath.
The sanguisugae's crown was now mere ashes on the floor, but at
the spot where the neck had been, a small pool of blood now
lay, congealing.
//Obi-Wan's blood, that was on her face and in her mouth// he
thought. Apparently the blood she had consumed didn't
disintegrate with her corpse.
Turning quickly, he reached the body, brushing it with his
'sabre also. Again, it dissipated into ash. But this time, the
amount of blood that was left behind was enormous, and Qui-Gon
savagely sidestepped to avoid the spreading pool.
There was so much, all from Obi-Wan...could a person lose this
much blood and live?
The Jedi Master dove to his padawan's side. Obi-Wan was alive,
but badly drained. Moving as fast as he could, the Jedi Master
laid his hand on the wound on his padawan's throat, healing it,
preventing further blood loss. He used his small healing
capabilities to try and sooth the staccato beat of his
padawan's heart and stabilise the man.
Obi-Wan's eyes were rolled back in his head, and he shivered
with cold from the blood loss. Qui-Gon wrapped his padawan in
both his own robes and those of his Master. As he did, his
padawan moaned.
"Obi-Wan?"
His apprentice's eyes fluttered open, and Obi-Wan fixed him
with a weak gaze. "Master? Is...she...it...gone?"
Qui-Gon soothed his padawan, cradling him close. "She is dead,
padawan." At Obi-Wan's other, unspoken question, he nodded. "I
am well. Can you walk, Obi-Wan? We need to take you to the
infirmary."
Obi-Wan nodded groggily, and his Master helped him to his feet.
Once up, Obi-Wan swayed alarmingly, forcing his Master to catch
him.
"Ohhhhh..." he mumbled. "Walking not good. Legs not working."
Qui-Gon scooped him up before he fell, carrying him to the
doors of the chapel.
As he reached the foot of the stairs, carefully skirting the
pool of Obi-Wan's blood and the remains of the sanguisugae, the
doors flew open, and Adi Gallia and several knights stood
there.
She was at his side in an instant, her hands on Obi-Wan's
forehead, adding her healing power to his. It did help, but
what Obi-Wan needed now was blood, and only the infirmary could
give that.. "Is it dead?"
Qui-Gon nodded wordlessly, jerking his head towards the carnage
behind him. The room looked fairly terrible, blood sprayed on
the walls from the sanguisugae when he had half severed her
throat, as well as the blood from her body when she was slain.
Adi Gallia took him at his word, barely even glancing at the
battlefield. "We came as soon as we heard you call. But
apparently it wasn't as foolish as we thought. It must have
suspected that we were on to it, for it erected a barricade
across the only corridor leading here, and we had to remove it
to reach you." The Councillor gently stroked Obi-Wan's forehead
again. "I had feared we would be too late and that it would
overwhelm you."
'It nearly did," Qui-Gon's voice was grim. "And Obi-Wan is in
danger still."
"Can you make it to the infirmary on your own? I would like to
remain here and make sure the creature is disposed of
properly." At his nod, she stepped aside as Qui-Gon moved
carried Obi-Wan out, but the padawan halted him with a hand on
his sleeve.
"Thank...you, Master...Gallia." The short sentence caused
Obi-Wan to sink back in exhaustion, face pinched with fatigue.
The Councillor smiled at him. "We protect our own, Padawan
Kenobi. You are as precious to us as Master Yoda and we would
not let you go without a fight."
The knights remained behind with the Council member to clear up
the mess and ensure the destruction of the sanguisugae's
remnants. Qui-Gon carefully transported his padawan out into
the corridor, towards the Temple infirmary.
"She is right, my padawan," he murmured. "You are important to
us all. Rest, you are safe now. She cannot harm you any more."
As Obi-Wan succumbed to his emotional and physical exhaustion,
Qui-Gon carried his precious burden to the infirmary.
EPILOGUE
Master and Padawan stood facing the dawn, out on the balcony of
their quarters.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Does this mean that my family's fortunes are
now fickle? We no longer have a creature looking out for us."
Qui-Gon shook his head, patting his padawan's arm. "Your
fortunes are your own, Obi-Wan, just as they have always been.
Rather than seeing it as a possible loss of luck, I view these
happenings as beneficial to your family, for they no longer
have to pay a blood token to a being whose protection was never
asked for."
Obi-Wan shrugged noncommittally. "I guess. I mean, I never knew
she was there before, I suppose I won't miss her now."
As his Master put a companionable arm around his shoulders,
Obi-Wan allowed himself a surge of hope. Perhaps this incident
had aided him somewhat, making his Master slightly more open to
him. Maybe his Master wasn't so unattainable to him after all.
Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip speculatively. The Healers told
him he would be weak for the next few days, but after
that...perhaps he would let his Master know how he felt about
him.
Perhaps.
High above the Jedi Temple, in the sparkling Coruscant skies, a
billion small particles of dust danced and swirled in the wind,
at peace at last.
Archive 