Please note : This is a much darker story than my previous
offerings. If scenes of rape and torture offend or upset you -
then do not read this.
Spoilers: Some references to events in TPM
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan struggle to survive aboard the
scavenger's ship.
Series/Sequels: This is the next story in my unnamed series -
The others are (in order) 'The Truth',
'Change', and 'Need'.
They can be found at the archives mentioned above, or just
email me and I'll happily send them to you :-). The sequel to
this story should be finished in a few weeks.
Disclaimer: The SW universe, the concept of Jedi, and 'The
Boys' still belong to Mr Lucas
Feedback: Please ! :-).........I crave it !
Key: italics indicates someone's personal thoughts. //
indicates telepathy.
My heartfelt thanks to my beta readers Ana and Kelly. Also this
story would never have been written without my co-conspirators
- Jo, Kathy and Q <g>
Thanks also to my brother - who's insight was much appreciated
and very helpful :-)
Chapter I
Obi-Wan gazed around him despairingly, his fingers touching the
cool metal circlet around his neck. A smooth, slender band of
dulled silver, deceptively fragile the delicate design belayed
its true purpose. A slave collar - outlawed in the Republic -
designed to suppress the mental abilities of alien races it
completely isolated Obi-Wan from the Force. Trapped in a
terrifying vacuum, he couldn't feel anything. Even the
Mindus had allowed him to sense something of the Force -
sick, weak or drugged, there had never been this vast empty
void.
Blind panic clawed at him, an icy coldness seeping into every
limb. Obi-Wan struggled to control his fear, clinging
desperately to the faint trace of his Master's powerful
presence. Somehow their Bond link persisted - despite the
control collar - anchoring him; the aching familiarity all that
held him back from plunging into mindless terror. However all
his attempts to reach his Master had met with silence. Qui-Gon
was alive, and close by, but 'something' was very wrong. Could
his captor have spoken the truth ? Had Qui-Gon forgotten him ?
The thought was too painful to bear, and Obi-Wan hastily pushed
it aside.
He stood shakily, still weak and dizzy from the duel effects of
the Mindus and the stun gun. Drawing deep, calming breaths
Obi-Wan moved forward slowly; his joints felt stiff, his limbs
cumbersome. There is no fear there is only the Force.
Obi-Wan allowed Master Yoda's voice to drown out the rising
tide of panic. He berated himself bitterly, he would be of
little use to Qui-Gon, or himself if he became a gibbering
wreck. Somewhat calmer, and more controlled, Obi-Wan began a
methodical search of his surroundings, carefully cataloguing
each item in his mind.
Obi-Wan assumed that he was in his captor's personal quarters,
a fairly standard sized cabin completely dominated by a large
bed. The only other furniture was a chair in the corner.
However the room was far from empty. His eyes wandered along
shelves overflowing with books from various cultures -
histories, art, poetry, prose. Obi-Wan frowned as he recognized
several more obscure texts relating to philosophy and thought.
Other smaller items were buried away between tomes - carved
trinkets, plain jewellery - much of it silver; he frowned as he
discovered a thread of meditation beads.
Confused and troubled, Obi-Wan stepped back from the books and
looked around the rest of the room. The bed and the chair were
both draped in rich cloths - blues, purples and deep emerald
greens. He swallowed hard as his eyes took in the large mirrors
fastened above and to the side of the bed.
Obi-Wan had purposely avoided the mirror on the wall, but now
he was reluctantly drawn to it. Teeth worrying his lower lip,
he studied his reflection impassively. The Mindus had not been
kind to him; his skin was pale, almost white - stretched tight
across bones which seemed even more pronounced than before. It
gave his face an oddly feline cast - eyes glittering green
against the milky pallor. Obi-Wan grimaced, well aware of how
he looked....haunted, feral....vulnerable. He shivered, and
turned away.
Knowing it was futile he studied the door-lock mechanism, but
without tools or the Force it was clear he had no hope of
releasing it. Frustrated he turned back to face the room - and
frowned - there was another door.
Cursing himself for not noticing it earlier, Obi-Wan scrambled
across the bed to reach it. The door was concealed behind some
shelving - designed to blend in with the rest of the interior.
Now, upon closer examination, Obi-Wan realised that the books
upon this particular bay were false. He studied the titles
carefully; he was half way along when he stopped - his mouth
twisting into a dreadful parody of a grin. 'A treatise on
hidden cultures' Obi-Wan lifted the book out carefully, as he
did so the rest of the books and shelving 'collapsed', the door
hissed slightly, and then slid sideways. However his triumph
was short lived....the door merely concealed a washroom.
With a frustrated cry Obi-Wan threw the book across the room,
//Qui- Gon....Master please answer me !// He pushed his
emotions along their link, desperate for any response...but
only the empty echo of his own grief came back to him. Obi-Wan
sank gracelessly to the floor, burying his face in his hands.
Lost in his despair Obi-Wan didn't hear the door open and he
jumped as someone dropped something onto the bed.
It was his captor, the man who had called himself Rigel.
Obi-Wan eyed the scavenger uneasily, hurriedly wiping away all
traces of his tears. From his position on the floor Rigel
appeared even larger than on their first encounter. Easily a
head taller than Qui- Gon, and more broadly built, the
Scavenger dwarfed Obi-Wan, making him feel like a child in
comparison. Short, cropped dark hair, a neat beard shot through
with silver. A trail of small silver hoops ran down one ear,
two more were threaded through a heavy black brow - the one
above the pale blue eye; the other eye scarred and sightless.
Plain simple clothing - in similar shades of deep blue to those
covering the bed. Rigel's arms were bare, and clearly indicated
that none of the huge man's bulk came from fat.
The scavenger grinned savagely, staring down at Obi-Wan - who
forced himself to meet the one-eyed gaze."You are filthy little
one. Wash and put these on." The pirate waved a hand toward the
clothes on the bed, before dropping heavily into the chair
behind him."There is a shower unit through that door." Rigel
smiled slyly, "As you have already discovered, my clever
little one."
His expression guarded, Obi-Wan glanced at the fresh clothing.
True his tunic was filthy - stained with blood, sweat and grime
- but he balked at the thought of wearing anything provided by
this man. Rigel seemed to read his thoughts, and a pale blue
eye narrowed in warning. "Do not try my patience too soon
little one."
Without the Force it was hard to gauge the depth of the
scavenger's displeasure, and Obi-Wan was painfully aware that
Qui-Gon's life undoubtedly rested upon his ability to please
this man. Trying to control the trembling in his limbs he
stood, gathering up the clothing. However, as he turned toward
the shower room, Rigel leaned forward and grabbed his arm.
"No." Obi-Wan froze, Rigel released him and sat back. "You will
undress here." A protest died silently upon Obi-Wan's lips.
Shaking, he dropped the clothing back onto the bed, and began
to remove his tunic.
Clumsily, his fingers hampered by layers of fraying gauze,
Obi-Wan slipped off his top. The room was warm, but he was
unable to control the shivers which wracked his frame - only
too conscious of Rigel's steady, unblinking gaze. He tried to
recite a mediation drill in his head, but his mind was cloudy
and confused. Bending to remove his boots his sight dimmed and
he swayed dizzily.
Obi-Wan was only vaguely aware of a strong hand encircling his
arm. Spots swam before his eyes....When they cleared he
realised he was being held upright by the scavenger's powerful
hands. The sensation of the man's warm skin against his own
chilled flesh was almost as startling as the look of concern in
that one pale blue eye. Suddenly panicked he tried to pull
away.
"Easy little one." The scavenger's voice was a soft rumble.
Obi-Wan could feel the man's breath Too close...too
close Almost frantically he tried to wriggle free, but the
huge hands were unbreakable bands around his arms. "Steady,
steady". Obi-Wan felt himself being pulled back toward the bed,
and a wave of mindless terror rushed over him.
"No !" Obi-Wan thrashed madly, desperate to break free, but
still weak from his ordeal exhaustion quickly overcame his
efforts, and he hung limply from the scavenger's grip. Rigel
lifted his pliant body up onto the bed, and then released him.
Immediately Obi-Wan tried to scramble away, he heard Rigel
laugh and felt powerful fingers grasp his ankle and drag him
unceremoniously back. Obi-Wan lay panting, both arms pinned
above his head by one large hand; Rigel lay beside him face
alight with pleasure. As the scavenger trailed his free hand
down Obi-Wan's bare torso, the youth bit his lip to hold back a
whimper.
"Such fire you have little one !" Rigel's expression shifted as
he continued to lazily stroke Obi-Wan's smooth skin."So
lovely....so very lovely." Just as suddenly the scavenger's
face cleared. The hand ceased its slow caresses, and caught
hold of Obi-Wan's jaw. Staring at Obi-Wan, Rigel looked
thoughtful. "You are sick ?" Obi-Wan stared back, stubbornly
silent. He had managed to master his fear again, and was
determined not to show just how much this man's closeness
disturbed him.
Rigel frowned in annoyance, his hold on Obi-Wan's jaw tightened
cruelly. "I will ask once more. Are you sick ?" The scavenger's
voice was a deadly whisper, and Obi-Wan stiffened despite his
attempt to hide his fear.
"No." His denial came out as a dry rasp.
Rigel looked unconvinced. "You have been unwell." It was a
statement not a question, and Obi-Wan didn't bother to reply.
"I will have Nezan look at you."
"No !" Obi-Wan didn't know who Nezan was, but he didn't want
anyone examining him. He suddenly felt very tired. He closed
his eyes, "P..please, no." - a soft broken whisper, but Obi-Wan
no longer cared.
There was silence, and then his hands were released. Confused
Obi- Wan opened his eyes, blinking groggily.
Rigel had sat up and was staring at him, the scavenger's
expression unreadable. Then, as Obi-Wan watched, the huge man
knelt and gently removed Obi-Wan's boots. Standing the
scavenger extended a hand to Obi-Wan. The youth hesitated, then
- ignoring the outstretched fingers - stood unaided. Obi-Wan
risked a quick glance at his captor, but Rigel looked more
amused than annoyed. However Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath as
the scavenger stepped closer and with one swift gesture undid
the tie at his waist.
Warm calloused fingers circled his hips. Obi-Wan's breath
hitched as the thumbs hooked into his leggings. Never once
taking his eyes away from Obi-Wan's, Rigel slid them down in
one swift movement, dropping to a crouch as he did so. Obi-Wan
wavered as he felt the scavenger's warm breath against his
groin. Still unsteady, he instinctively touched the man's
shoulders for support as he stepped out of the last of his
clothing. Though the instant he realised what he had done he
pulled his fingers back as though scalded.
Rigel stood up, Obi-Wan forced himself to stand straight -
determined to show no shame in the face of his own nakedness.
His captor smiled, almost indulgently - reaching for Obi-Wan's
right hand. The youth flinched away, and then reluctantly
allowed Rigel to take it.
Carefully the scavenger unwound the gauze bandaging, his large
fingers surprisingly gentle. The skin beneath was freshly pink
- Force healed, and free from burns or scarring. One black brow
arched a little, as Rigel examined it. Then the scavenger
lowered Obi-Wan's right hand, and repeated the process with the
youth's left.
Rigel rubbed his thumb across the fleshy part of Obi-Wan's
bared palm. Obi-Wan shivered as the sensitive new skin
responded to the stimulus. Rigel smiled and released him. "Wash
little one." Standing to the side the scavenger swept his arm
out in a dramatic flourish toward the wash room. "Go." Obi-Wan
stumbled forward a little, hesitated and then squaring his
shoulders marched forward. Struggling to close his ears to the
sound of Rigel's mocking laughter.
There was no way to close the door, and anyway Obi-Wan was
quite certain it would not be permitted. Stepping into the
shower stall he tried to ignore the sight of Rigel slouched
against the door-frame. Seizing a wash rag and the bar of soap
he stabbed at the controls viciously, and turned his face
toward the spray as the hot water gushed over his body. He
didn't hear Rigel's sudden gasp, or the way the scavenger
shifted uncomfortably before retreating back to the bed.
Chapter II
Rigel sat, one pale blue orb fixed intently upon the lissom
form beneath the hot spray; his throat tightening as he tracked
the soapy rivulets trickling down sleek honey-gold skin. The
youth turned slightly, unwittingly displaying a well toned
torso - flushed pink nipples standing proud against the smooth
curve of pectoral muscles. Staring raptly at the taut, flat
stomach, the scavenger stifled a moan; clenching his fists
until his knuckles turned white.
From the moment the youth had been carried aboard the Black
Narcissus, Rigel had ached to possess him. A longing which
became an intense, unbearable craving when the boy awoke.
Those eyes...He had never seen such eyes
Pure...clear...untainted. Burning with a radiance which had
branded itself into his every fantasy.
Rigel's tastes usually ran to much younger flesh, but there was
an indefinable aura about this young man, not innocence exactly
- more an 'untouchable' quality - which was impossible to
resist. This was no cringing slave or sluttish drab; the
youth's husky voice held cultured tones.
Rigel avoided the Republic, the furthest he ever strayed into
their territory was Tatooine to do business with the Hutts.
However stories of the Jedi had travelled far beyond the outer
rim - mystical warriors with sorcerers powers. Superstitions
and folklore, but enough to inspire fear and mistrust amongst
Rigel's crew. Once the lightsabers had been discovered most
were for killing the Jedi.
Rigel hadn't bothered to hide his contempt -Superstitious
fools He knew of the Jedi Order, and their precious Code.
He knew that severed from the Force these were just men, as
helpless and powerless as any other slave.
The sight of the Padawan braid had excited him A Jedi
apprentice. Defiling such legendary 'incorruptible' flesh
promised to satisfy his darkest, most intense fantasies.
He exhaled deeply - Patience..patience... - If he could
bend that spirit without breaking it, temper the boy's will to
his own...Oh what pleasure then...
It would be an easy task to drug the young man into submission,
but to deaden those incredible eyes ? - No...Never !.
Rigel's thoughts turned to the older Jedi - a 'bargaining
piece' perhaps ? Another heartbeat and the scavenger's
expression turned cold again. What if the youth still
failed to yield ? A moments desperation....then Rigel's mouth
twisted into a sly smile, his imagination stirring - Well then
he would simply have to take the youth by force. After all,
there were still pleasures to be had from such.
Suddenly the youth swayed, leaning into the tiles unsteadily.
Rigel was on his feet in an instant, crossing the space between
them in three swift strides. Reaching into the shower stall he
turned off the water just as the youth collapsed against him.
Water slick skin slipped through his fingers, as the youth slid
bonelessly to the floor. Rigel went down with him, cushioning
the young man's naked body against his own.
They lay in a sprawl of tangled limbs. Rigel swallowed hard -
scarcely conscious of the water seeping into his clothing -
feeling only the warm wet body cradled in his arms. He inhaled
deeply, drawing in the sweet, clean scent of young skin.
Carefully, Rigel eased his burden into a more secure hold, and
then stood carefully. The youth murmured softly, but remained
quiescent in his arms.
Rigel walked forward slowly, and gently lay the youth upon the
bed. "Wha...Qui-Gon ?". The softly whispered confusion cut into
Rigel like a knife. Long golden lashes fluttered open, and the
scavenger felt a sharp stab of jealousy - gazing into pellucid
eyes painted with fearful recognition.
The young man quickly masked his fear, but clearly conscious of
his nudity tried to squirm away. Rigel stayed the youth easily
- curling long fingers around the curve of one bare shoulder.
The scavenger dug his nails deeply into the pale flesh until
the youth hissed sharply. Rigel smiled, and loosened his hold;
fingers caressing the marks left in the soft, smooth skin. "You
fainted little one."
The youth raised his chin defiantly "Don't call me that !"
Rigel's smile vanished, his hand swiftly encircling the slender
throat. The young man flinched as Rigel tightened his hold,
squeezing oh...so slowly, enjoying the spiralling
distress in those incredible gray-green eyes. Lowering his head
Rigel let his lips brush against the young man's forehead; his
tongue flickering out to taste the drops of water dripping from
soft red-gold spikes.
The young man gave a dull moan.
Rigel rubbed his cheek against the damp skin, and felt the body
beneath him tremble slightly. Smiling, Rigel removed his hand
and drew back a little until his face was level with the
youth's. "What is your name then little one ?" Rigel lowered
his head again, his lips almost touching the trembling boy's -
tasting the sweetness of his breath. "Tell me." A soft
whispered caress. Rigel's smile widened as he the young man's
breath hitched.
"O..Obi...Wan."
"Obi-Wan." Rigel let the name slide over his tongue. "Oh
yess. It suits you well little one....My Obi-Wan,"
Rigel's voice grew cold, "and you are mine now. You
would do well to remember that."
Reluctantly Rigel sat back. "I will have Nezan look at you
later, but first we will eat. Now can you dress yourself ?" his
gaze slid lasciviously over Obi-Wan's naked form. "Or shall I
help you ?"
"I...I can do it." The voice was shaky, but there was no
mistaking the bitter hostility behind the words.
Rigel stood, handing the youth a sleeveless tunic top and
simple trousers. Cut from a shimmering emerald green cloth, the
outfit moulded itself perfectly to the young man's body.
"Exquisite." Rigel let his eyes linger a moment longer, before
reaching for the young man's hand. There was a dangerous pause
as Obi-Wan stared at him - and then slowly, defiantly - placed
his arms behind his back. Rigel's mouth thinned, tightening in
displeasure. He grabbed one arm roughly, dragging the youth off
his feet. "Do not provoke me little one." Breathing heavily,
Rigel set the youth down again. Obi-Wan had paled, skin taking
on a sickly greyish tinge. Frowning, Rigel took hold of the
young man's hand, capturing the icy fingers within his own.
"Come. We will eat." The youth didn't resist as Rigel gently
tugged him forward.
Chapter III
Dizzy and cold - despite the oppressive heat, Obi-Wan stumbled
forwards; struggling to keep pace as Rigel half-dragged him
through the narrow twisting passageway. Shrill spikes of pain
pierced his skull, threatening to send him crashing back into
the darkness. Terrified slaves fled as they approached,
scuttling like rats into the shadows. Those with nowhere to run
simply fell to their knees - faces pressed against the grimy
metal walkway.
Obi-Wan clung desperately to the faint trace of his Master's
presence, almost crushed beneath the weight of his despair. He
was under no illusions as to what the scavenger wanted from him
- still sickened by the recollection of that cold gaze sliding
over his naked body. He shuddered, fighting back a wave of
revulsion. //Qui-Gon...Please Master, answer me !//
Finally they stopped. A door slid open, sounds spilling out
into the silent passageway - raucous laughter, shouts, curses;
the smell of stale, unwashed bodies and cheap ale. Rigel
dragged him through the doorway. The room inside was dark,
dingy; Obi-Wan's bare feet slipped and stuck in the pools of
spilt ale. The ship's largely human crew were seated around a
long table, being served by a handful of frightened slaves; who
were pushed or punched whenever they strayed within reach.
Sinking into a seat at the head of the table, Rigel pulled
Obi-Wan roughly onto his lap; forcing the youth to sprawl
awkwardly across the scavenger's legs. Obi-Wan was conscious of
the stares - some curious, some openly hostile. Only the slaves
paid him no attention, they had long since learnt to ignore
whatever went on around them. One scurried forward, head bowed,
setting a plate of food down before the scavenger. As Rigel
reached for it Obi-Wan attempted to twist away but one huge arm
encircled his waist, drawing him back. "Be still little one,"
Rigel admonished gently. Glaring, Obi-Wan sank back into the
scavenger's embrace.
Despite the hollow ache in his belly, Obi-Wan struggled not to
choke on the morsels Rigel passed to him. The scavenger held
Obi-Wan's arms, forcing the youth to take the food from his
fingers. Rigel trembled with pleasure each time the young man's
lips touched his skin. Obi-Wan attempted to snatch at the food
with his teeth, but Rigel held it firmly - making him coax it
from the scavenger's grasp. Sickened Obi-Wan fought back the
nausea which swept over him - pushing himself to accept each
hateful mouthful.
The thin cloth clinging to his damp skin was no barrier, and
Obi-Wan shivered, painfully aware of the scavenger's powerful
body moving against his own; the man's warmth seeping into his
own chilled flesh.
Eventually the plate was cleared, and Rigel held a flagon of
ale up to Obi-Wan's lips. The bitter brew sat uneasily in his
stomach, and the young Jedi coughed, spluttering - the ale
trickling down his chin. Laughing, Rigel released Obi-Wan's
arms. Seizing the Padawan braid the scavenger pulled Obi-Wan
close and, to the young man's disgust, began to lick the ale
off his face. Obi-Wan squirmed uselessly as the hot tongue
trailed across his skin, sucking at his throat; teeth nipping
the delicate flesh. Obi-Wan stiffened in shock as Rigel
suddenly bit down hard - crying out in pain as the scavenger's
teeth pierced his skin. Writhing he tried to pull away, but
serpent-like Rigel coiled around him.
The sharp pain eased to a dull throbbing ache as Rigel drew
back to admire the wound he had inflicted upon Obi-Wan's pale
throat. The young man shivered, unable to suppress a soft -
"No...please no..", as Rigel leaned in once more; but
even as he tensed ready for the pain, Obi-Wan felt the
scavenger's lips gently kiss the bloody mark - before suckling
gently on the warm red rivulets tricking down his neck.
Too dazed to move, Obi-Wan sat limp and unresisting as Rigel
continued to suck greedily upon his throat. New pain rippled
outwards as the scavenger worried the broken skin. Obi-Wan
moaned weakly. The scavenger lifted his head, one pale blue orb
shining with pleasure. "Oh my little one..." Rigel's voice was
low and soft, as intimate as any lover's. "So sweet my little
one. So very sweet." Obi-Wan swallowed hard - seeing his
own blood staining the scavenger's teeth. He sagged with relief
when Rigel looked away.
The scavenger motioned to one of his men, who rose from the
table and disappeared through the doorway. Still stunned
Obi-Wan didn't notice the exchange; however he felt the shift
in the atmosphere when the man returned. The crew man had
brought back two slaves, both heavily shackled with chains and
manacles. One was a Garian - tall slender, whipcord strong,
blue skin glistening with dirt and sweat. The other
was......Qui-Gon.
//Master !// Near giddy with relief, Obi-Wan unconsciously
reached for his Bond mate; almost sliding off Rigel's lap as he
strained against the scavenger's embrace. In that moment
nothing else existed for Obi- Wan. Eagerly he drank in the
sight of his beloved, standing with quiet dignity amidst the
jeering, shouting crew. The young man was blithely unaware of
Rigel's sudden dark look. Frantically Obi-Wan searched the
familiar form; feeling his stomach knot as he took in the marks
of violence marring his lover's body. Angry purple-black
bruises stained Qui-Gon's throat - the slave collar glinting
cruelly against the abused flesh. Fresh cuts, the deepest still
oozing blood, decorated one cheek
Frustrated by Qui-Gon's apparent refusal to meet his gaze,
Obi-Wan called out again - //Qui-Gon?// but only empty silence
greeted his cry. Increasingly bewildered, Obi-Wan found himself
fighting the unfamiliar sensation of being in his Master's
presence - without actually being able to feel the older
man. Without the Force Obi- Wan could only detect his Master
through the faint, flickering existence of their Bond link.
Master please
It almost seemed that Qui-Gon had heard his silent plea, as
slowly the Jedi's dark blue gaze fell upon him. Obi-Wan's heart
lifted //Master !-// but something was wrong......Obi-Wan gave
a startled gasp, unable to believe the truth of his own eyes.
He shook his head, "N..no..."
Rigel smiled in triumph.
For the eyes which looked upon Obi-Wan were those of a
stranger, there was no spark of recognition...nothing. His
Master did not know him Obi-Wan gave a low moan, a sound of
pure animal pain. Unable to bear the steady appraisal of those
dark blue eyes - so familiar and strange - Obi-Wan looked away.
The scavenger took advantage of the young man's grief, pulling
an unresisting Obi-Wan close, laying the youth's head upon his
shoulder.
Rigel kissed the boy's brow tenderly. "There little one, I
did warn you." The scavenger tugged Obi-Wan shirt aside
a little, stroking the soft skin beneath the emerald cloth.
"You are nothing to him now little
one....Nothing" Obi-Wan's gaze was devoid of all expression,
blue-green eyes blank, unblinking; tears shimmering on the tips of long
golden lashes. Merciless the scavenger pressed closer, his lips brushing
against Obi-Wan's ear; whispering soft poison."You do not exist to him
little one...You do not exist...."
Chapter IV
Obi-Wan felt something deep inside him twist and break at Rigel's venomous
words.Nothing - he was -Nothing.
None of it existed any more - his struggle to be accepted as Qui-Gon's apprentice,
their years together, that first startling kiss....the moment they became
lovers...all...lost. Dazed, Obi-Wan sat blinded by his
grief; razor sharp shards slicing deep into his soul. Surging
up through the pain came a sudden bitter desperation.....Was
he so easily forgotten ? !
Even as Obi-Wan silently protested that Qui-Gon was blameless,
that an insidious weapon had done this. Part of him, fed by
Rigel's poisonious hatred, questioned how his Master - his
Bond mate - could so easily have shed a lifetimes
treasured memories. I don't exist to him.....I don't
exist.... The tears which burned behind his eyes began to
fall, scalding heat flowing furiously down stark white cheeks.
Obi-Wan made no attempt to check them, nor did he resist when
Rigel turned his face and brushed his lips across the salty
tracks.
Caught in a maelstrom of despair Obi-Wan didn't notice Rigel
signal for the 'entertainment' to begin. He jumped as a crew
man casually tossed two crude knives onto the table. Obi-Wan
watched, still uncomprehending, as the crew man removed most of
the chains and shackles from the prisoners - leaving Qui-Gon
and the other slave bound together by a single length of chain
connected to their wrists.
Rigel twisted in his seat, turning them around, giving them
both a better view of the 'proceedings'. As the crew and slaves
scattered from the floor, Obi-Wan felt an icy coldness grip
him. //Master..?//
The blue-skinned Garian tensed, eyes darting nervously between
Qui- Gon and the blades upon the table. Qui-Gon stood,
apparently impassive - but Obi-Wan could detect the
undercurrents of confusion and concern in his Master's eyes.
Rigel raised his tankard....a hush fell.... it slammed
down....and chaos erupted.
The crew's voices rose in unmistakable excitement, as the
Garian made a sudden dive towards the table - grabbing for one
blade whilst simultaneously trying to sweep the other out of
reach. Qui-Gon staggered - pulled forward by the Garian's
momentum - but recovered quickly; moving with startling speed
to snatch the knife before it could slide away. Obi-Wan sucked
in a sharp breath, every muscle tight with fear. He glanced
toward Rigel, and stifled a gasp, recoiling from the blatant
bloodlust in the scavenger's gaze.
Howling their delight the crew surged forward as the Garian
slashed wildly at Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan watched helplessly as his
Master struggled to evade the swift attack. The Garian had a
clear advantage in both speed and reach; long blue limbs
performing a deadly dance around the Jedi. However even as
Obi-Wan held his breath, Qui-Gon seemed to re-evaluate his
attacker's strategy, and began to counter- attack.
Obi-Wan felt a rush of awe as he beheld his Master. Even
without the Force, Qui-Gon Jinn was a warrior of breathtaking
skill. The Jedi Master flowed with pure, seemingly effortless
grace, each movement carefully controlled. A sharp contrast to
the Garian's desperate assault; which grew more ragged and
unco-ordinated as Qui-Gon pressed his advantage.
His attention focused solely upon his Master, Obi-Wan was blind
to Rigel's mounting displeasure. He missed the scavenger's
subtle signal to a crew man. It was only when the man stepped
out from the crowd, swinging a slender metal rod toward the
Jedi, that Obi-Wan started in alarm - "Master !" Whether
Qui-Gon was responding to his voice, or simply the tone of
warning, Obi-Wan didn't know; but Qui-Gon spun away....Too
late, the metal rod caught the Jedi a glancing blow across his
shoulder - Obi-Wan cried out, even as his Master's own
pain-filled cry echoed through the room.
Obi-Wan clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, as
Qui-Gon staggered - flashes of electric blue running up and
down his crippled arm. The knife tumbled from useless fingers,
and was lost as a crew man kicked it away..... //No...Master
!//
Momentarily stunned by the crew man's intervention the Garian
failed to take immediate advantage. However it quickly realised
it's gain. Rallying itself with savage glee it drove forward
with renewed intent.
One arm hanging uselessly, dark blue eyes glazed with pain,
Qui-Gon stumbled away from the Garian; dragging uselessly on
the chain which bound him. The silver rod re-appeared in the
hands of another crew-man. Obi-Wan screamed in protest
"Noooooo!" Then watched in horror as his Master fell -
blue-light dancing around his body.
Obi-Wan strained toward his Master. Strengthened by sheer
desperation, he broke free of Rigel's crushing embrace, sliding
onto the floor. However, as he tried to scramble away a huge
hand came down grabbing his hair, dragging him up by the scruff
of his neck. Kicking, struggling he dangled from the
scavenger's grasp. Twisting, writhing he turned his gaze toward
his Master - frantic gray-green burning into agonized blue.
//Master...!// Something seemed to flicker in their pain-dulled
depths....
Qui-Gon moved - just as the Garian dived forwards for the
killing blow. The blade which would have pierced the Jedi's
heart, instead drove deep into the Jedi's shoulder. Held fast
against the scavenger's legs Obi-Wan sobbed, watching with
horror as a crimson stain blossomed outwards, spreading with
terrifying speed across his Master's chest. "Master !"
The older Jedi's face set into a grimace, teeth gritted against
the pain. Taking advantage of the Garian's unbalanced posture,
Qui-Gon wrapped the chain once around his arm, and pulled hard
- yanking the Garian forward onto it's knees. Without pausing
the Jedi Master moved, looping the remaining chain around the
creatures neck - pulling it tight - slowly choking the Garian,
who clawed uselessly at Qui-Gon.
//Yes Master !...Yes!// Obi-Wan felt a savage pleasure
rushing through his body as he watched the Garian's desperate
struggles. //Yes!//
"Yes !...Yes!"
Obi-Wan blinked, as though waking from a stupor "Yes...Yes
!...Kill him !" The baying of the crew rose to a deafening
crescendo"Kill him !...Kill him !" Gazing around him
Obi-Wan stared into faces twisted with hate, the voices merging
into a terrifying chant. "Yes ! Kill him !...Kill him now !"
"No !" Obi-Wan's voice was all but drowned out in the
clamouring for blood. "No ! Master !" Obi-Wan didn't need the
Force to feel the darkness in this room, it swirled all around
them, a malevolent vampyre feasting upon the crazed bloodlust
of the crew. Stricken with fear, Obi-Wan scrabbled forwards,
fingers outstretched toward Qui- Gon. Rigel snarled in anger,
hoisting Obi-Wan back onto his lap. However the sudden movement
was enough to catch Qui-Gon's eye and Obi-Wan again locked
gazes with his Master, pleading silently - knowing Qui-Gon
could not hear his mental cries. Don't do this
Master...please...Don't do this!
Obi-Wan watched as pain and anger melted into puzzled
acceptance. He gave a sob of relief as Qui-Gon unwound the
chain and roughly pushed the semi-conscious Garian away, with a
weary - "No." Stunned, the crew fell silent. Struggling to his
feet, Qui-Gon turned to face his chief tormentor, staring with
quiet dignity into Rigel's enraged countenance. "I...I will not
kill him." Breathy voice laced with pain, but Obi-Wan
recognized his Master's resolve and could not conceal his
delight, triumph shining in his eyes.
His pleasure was short lived.
Rigel stared silently at Qui-Gon, meeting the Jedi Master's
unwavering gaze measure for measure. Then slowly the scavenger
smiled. "Very well." Obi-Wan tensed, every instinct tuned to
danger. The scavenger made a slight gesture with his hand, a
ring glinted - bright amber light - Rigel's smile widened,
"Then you'll both die." The Garian on the floor was already
gasping, hands tugging at the slave collar, as slowly the
silver band constricted, crushing it's throat.
Horrified Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon staggered, and dropped to
his knees; face already strained and scarlet with the effort of
drawing breath. "No !" The crew, revitalised by their leader's
callous cruelty, began to bay and holler - scenting death. The
Garian twitched...once....twice....then lay still. Obi-Wan
stared into his Master's dying eyes helplessly...//I love
you...I love you...please// His silent plea became a
shuddering sob, as Qui-Gon's eyes began to close.
"No !" This time Obi-Wan directed his protest to Rigel. "Please
I beg you...No !" Rigel regarded him blandly. Praying he was
right, Obi- Wan twisted in his captor's grasp, just enough to
lay his face against the scavenger's broad chest. "Please Sire.
I beg you. Spare his life." Lifting his face up a little
Obi-Wan turned the full force of his gaze upon the scavenger;
lowering his voice to a soft husky whisper. "I beg you Sire.
I...I will do whatever you want, but spare his life." Obi-Wan
held his breath. If he had miscalculated Rigel would simply
kill Qui- Gon and do what he wished to him anyway....but Rigel
wanted him tamed, well - Obi-Wan swallowed hard - he would give
the scavenger what he desired.
Rigel stared, apparently startled by Obi-Wan's sudden
acquiescence. Then the scavenger stood, dragging Obi-Wan up
with him. Waving a hand toward the fallen Jedi, Qui-Gon jerked,
and began drawing in great, noisy breaths. Obi-Wan had little
chance to savour his relief. Swung up over the scavenger's
shoulder, he watched his Master being dragged away, as Rigel
turned and strode out of the galley - to the whoops and
catcalls of the crew.
Chapter V
As the cabin door slid shut behind them, Rigel lowered Obi-Wan
to the ground. The youth swayed unsteadily, stumbling forward
as Rigel gave him a gentle shove toward the bed. "Take off your
clothes." Obi- Wan obeyed - heart hammering in his chest. His
hands shook as he fumbled with the drawstring at his waist.
"Take them off !" Mistaking his awkwardness for a refusal,
Rigel pushed Obi-Wan down onto the bed, stripping off the
trousers - tearing the delicate cloth. Obi-Wan whimpered, fear
paralysing him.
Naked, Obi-Wan lay motionless as Rigel reached beneath the bed
and drew out a dull metallic case. The scavenger caressed it,
running his large hands up and down the smooth sides almost
lovingly, before carefully opening it. Obi-Wan's eyes widened
as the scavenger withdrew two sets of manacles and two lengths
of chain, and he flinched away instinctively as Rigel reached
for him.
Ignoring the youth's obvious distress, Rigel roughly seized
Obi-Wan's wrist - snapping a manacle around it. Obi-Wan fought
the urge to vomit as the cold metal gripped his arm; biting his
lip to stifle a cry as Rigel cruelly dragged him upwards. With
the ease of long practice, the scavenger threaded a length of
chain through two small metal hoops embedded in the wall above
the pillows. The second manacle was fastened around Obi-Wan's
other wrist, and the chain connected to them both. As the third
and the fourth manacles enclosed around his ankles, Obi-Wan
closed his eyes - listening to the soft slink of metal as the
last length of chain bound his legs to the bed.
Opening his eyes slowly, Obi-Wan gazed upwards - feeling a
sudden rush of dizziness as he was greeted by the sight of his
own bound and naked body reflected in the mirror above.
Sickened he turned his face away, but Rigel caught his jaw and
pulled him back. "No..no little one. Watch..." The last word
was a huskily whispered command, and Obi-Wan stared as the
scavenger reached into the case - his eye catching the sharp
glint of bright metal - a needle, long and slender. The
scavenger brought it close to Obi-Wan's face, watching in
delight as the young man paled, eyes widening in shock.
Obi-Wan tried to squirm away - the chains were long enough to
allow him some movement - but his attempts to draw further back
were useless. Slowly, Rigel stroked the needle down Obi-Wan's
cheek; gray-green eyes followed it, riveted with terror. "There
little one, isn't it beautiful ? Feel how cold it is. Do you
feel it ?" Obi-Wan simply gazed at his tormentor, mute with
fear. Rigel smiled. "Ah..I see you do." The scavenger set the
needle down, and sat back. "Are you ready little one ?" The
fingers around Obi-Wan's jaw loosened - reaching down to touch
his throat, caressing the bite mark with tender fascination.
Rigel lowered his face to Obi-Wan's. "It's time to 'play'
little one, are you ready ?" Obi-Wan twitched, Rigel laughed
softly, "Hmm..yesss..I think you are..."
Obi-Wan stiffened as powerful fingers gripped his thighs,
forcing them apart, pushing his knees down towards the silken
sheets. Hot shame battled cold fear, as he lay open and
vulnerable beneath Rigel's rapacious gaze. The scavenger moved
forwards, settling himself between Obi-Wan's legs.
This isn't happening...This isn't
happening...No...No...Noooo! Obi-Wan clenched his jaw
against the screams which threatened to spew forth. Confronted
with something far beyond his most terrified imaginings he
struggled blindly against a violent, churning whirlpool of
bitter black despair and choking fear.
Unable to look away, Obi-Wan watched in fearful anticipation as
Rigel picked up the needle. Bubbles of hysteria welled up
inside his throat. Rigel's ice-blue gaze glittered with savage
pleasure as the scavenger leaned forward, carefully placing the
needle point against Obi-Wan's naked thigh. Obi-Wan struggled
not to move as the scavenger lovingly stroked the slender
length of steel back and forth - exerting just enough gentle
pressure to score a thin white line across his skin.
Without warning Rigel pushed downwards.
Obi-Wan cried out in shock and pain, arching up against his
shackles; gasping as the needle's point slowly sank into
protesting flesh. Scalding tears burned behind his eyes as the
cold steel slid deep into trembling muscle. He gave a guttural
groan, his head falling back, as his body twitched
uncontrollably.
Slowly Rigel withdrew the needle.
There was a strange warmth flowing upwards, as blood rushed
toward the wound. A delicate droplet, like a scarlet tear,
welled up - hot against his aching flesh.
With a broken sob Obi-Wan sank back into the tangled sheets,
his whole body shaking violently. He lay there, dragging in
harsh gulps of air. Suddenly he tensed. Lowering his gaze he
gasped in revulsion - Rigel was pressing his lips to the tiny
wound. Obi-Wan hissed as the scavenger's mouth closed over him;
biting his lip to stifle a whimper as Rigel began to suckle,
drawing hard upon the tender flesh.
Beneath the heat of the scavenger's mouth Obi-Wan shivered,
cold terror consuming him. He bit back a wave of nausea as
Rigel gently kissed his bare leg; the scavenger raked his
tongue across the seeping wound once before releasing him.
Seeing Obi-Wan's revulsion Rigel smiled. "Nectar little one.
The pure sweet essence of life itself." The scavenger brought
the needle to the base of his own thumb - pushing in the point
until the blood flowed. "Here little one. Drink." Obi-Wan shook
his head frantically as Rigel pushed his bloody hand against
his mouth. The scavenger's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Drink. Or I will have your Master dragged here
and flogged to death in front of you !"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, //Master....Forgive me...// Slowly his
tongue slipped out between trembling lips, tasting the sharp
metallic tang of the scavenger's blood. "Good little one. Now
drink. Drink." Sickened to the depths of his soul, Obi-Wan
sucked upon the wound. Hot rich blood filled his
mouth....Sobbing....choking....he swallowed; feeling the
vicious fluid slide across his tongue, and down his throat.
Gray- green eyes shot open as Obi-Wan pulled away, his face
twisted in bitter revulsion. Rigel however seemed content.
"Yes ! Now you have my life inside you." The scavenger
stroked Obi-Wan's cheek lovingly; trailing a sticky scarlet
smear across the white face. "We are joined little one. Bound
together." Rigel grinned, "Bonded by blood."
B..bonded ?....No ! - but even as he recoiled from the
words, Obi- Wan felt icy tendrils reach in and wrap around his
heart. A slow cold poison spreading outwards, splintering his
already fractured soul. Weeping softly, Obi-Wan struggled to
contain his anguish, battling for some semblance of control.
However exhausted and in pain his emotions overwhelmed him, and
he lay - sobbing brokenly.
Rigel coldly disregarded Obi-Wan's distress. Turning away from
the weeping youth, the scavenger withdrew another needle from
the case. Deceptively slender - gleaming silver in the cabin's
harsh white light.
Choking back his tears, Obi-Wan cringed as Rigel brought the
glittering point towards him. Stomach muscles clenching
convulsively as cold metal brushed against his skin. Hot shame
flushed his cheeks, and Obi-Wan forced himself to meet the
scavenger's gaze. Channelling all his will into defiance - tear
filled eyes bright with bitter contempt.
Rigel seemed more amused than angry by the bravado.
Obi-Wan stared in appalled fascination as the scavenger gently
drew the needle across his shivering torso. He hissed, pulling
in a sharp breath as the point was dragged upwards - a
desperate whimper escaping as it scratched across his chest.
Transfixed, he watched as the needle slowly circled his
nipple...spiralling closer...closer...The sensitive flesh
pebbling as the cold metal stroked across the nub.
"Ready little one ?"
Gray-green eyes blinked in fear-filled confusion, then widened
in pain as Rigel reached up with his free hand to savagely grip
Obi-Wan's right nipple. Holding the hardening bud between
vice-like fingers, the scavenger tugged the delicate flesh.
Unable to help himself, Obi-Wan cried out in shock and fear.
The cry became a wail of protest as the needle slowly entered
his flesh. Pushing through the skin ...tugging as it met faint
resistance - then white hot pain as the point drove through.
At once the blood rose up, scalding heat trickling down his
chest.
Almost purring with pleasure, Rigel twisted the needle
slightly; Obi- Wan gasped, pulling hard against his chains.
Slowly the scavenger drew the needle back... blood oozing
stickily from the wound - a tiny red-rimmed maw. Obi-Wan lay
panting, eyes half-closed, breath coming in short ragged sobs.
Calloused fingers caressed his face, "There now little one.
Almost done." A sharp tug....then sickening pain, as something
achingly cold slid through the punctured skin. Obi-Wan's eyes
fluttered open, and he stared in silent horror at a shining
silver ring, glinting obscenely against his blood smeared
flesh.
The first bright hot agony was already fading, leaving behind a
raw, burning ache. Trembling muscles finally gave way and
Obi-Wan collapsed, his whole body shaking. The fine silken
sheets clinging to his sweat soaked skin. Gray-green gaze
turned dull and glassy; defiance muted into wretched misery.
Obi-Wan watched with a strange detachment as the scavenger's
focus turned toward his remaining, unmutilated nipple. He
stiffened as the steel barb touched his flesh. Face suffused
with passion, Rigel pinched the bud between his rough fingers -
rubbing the rosy nub until it hardened.
Obi-Wan bit down hard, clenching his jaw to suppress a cry at
his body's cruel betrayal.
Drawing in a tight breath, Obi-Wan waited - the agony of
anticipation its own ruthless torment - Rigel paused,
prolonging the ordeal, one glacial blue orb sweeping over
Obi-Wan's face; obviously excited by the fear he found there.
A sudden swell of nausea and the sickly sweet fragrance of
blood as the point slid through.
Obi-Wan clawed at the slippery sheets, his traitorous tongue
murmuring nonsensically - pleading, begging, praying....wanting
an end to this. Filled with self-loathing Obi-Wan turned away
from the Bond link, anxious that his Master not sense his
shame.
"There little one." Rigel's voice was a warm, husky whisper.
"Sssh. It's over." Obi-Wan shivered as he felt the scavenger's
hot breath drift across his skin. "So sweet...So sweet...." The
scavenger's voice trailed off, and Obi-Wan gave a sudden start,
pain lancing through his chest. Gazing down he moaned - Rigel's
tongue was lapping greedily at the blood oozing from his
pierced flesh. Sharp teeth tugged gently on the silver hoops,
sending fresh rivulets of agony through his body.
Finally Rigel sat back, breathing hard, lips wet with blood and
saliva. The scavenger lifted up a thin length of chain - one
end spliced into two. Straddling Obi-Wan's thighs, Rigel
fastened the two ends - one to each ring - leaving a leash for
him to hold. Blue eye glittering with rising excitement, Rigel
wound the silver thread around his knuckles, before giving it a
gentle, experimental tug.
Obi-Wan cried out sharply, forced to rise up to ease the drag
upon his abused flesh.
"Now little one we will play !" Obi-Wan watched in
horror as Rigel undid the laces of his breeches, reaching in to
release his turgid flesh. The thick length extended rapidly,
the violent purple crown almost touching Obi-Wan's face. He
turned aside quickly, gagging with revulsion as it brushed
against his cheek.
His desperate - "No !" sharpened to a plaintive cry as Rigel
pulled sharply on the chain, dragging him closer. Gasping,
Obi-Wan gritted his teeth against the hot pain burning through
his chest; straining uselessly against the shackles which held
him helpless.
Powerful fingers curled around his throat, clutching him in a
choking grip, as Rigel spat the words into his face, "I spared
his life !... I can still change my mind !"
//Master !// Obi-Wan closed his eyes.....the chain jerked
cruelly.
"Keep them open !"
Swathed in revulsion, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be pulled
forward; unwillingly inhaling the dark musky scent of the
scavenger's eager sex. As the hot sticky head touched his lips
- smearing them with pre- cum - Obi-Wan felt the bile rise in
the back of his throat.
"Open for me little one." Another sharp painful tug and Obi-Wan
slowly opened his mouth, fighting not to pull away as the rigid
flesh was pushed between his lips - tasting the bitter salt of
Rigel's excitement. //Master !...Qui-Gon...Help
me....Please !//
Rigel's breathing grew ragged as the scavenger slid his
straining erection in and out of Obi-Wan's mouth.
Obi-Wan screamed silently This wasn't happening...this
couldn't be happening... Unable to cry, he sat - eyes
wide - in shock; struggling not to gag as Rigel pounded into
him.
The pace quickened, Rigel thrusting so deeply into his throat,
Obi- Wan felt himself begin to choke. Then, with a deep
guttural groan, the scavenger released his stream of seed.
Obi-Wan fought not to choke as the thick hot fluid gushed down
the back of his throat. "Swallow." Gagging, Obi-Wan obeyed.
Finally Rigel withdrew, sticky strands of semen trailing like
spider's web from his wet, glistening flesh. Unable to suppress
a whimper, Obi-Wan turned away, wiping his mouth across his
shoulder.
Face still flushed with pleasure, the scavenger seized
Obi-wan's Padawan braid and pulled the youth's head back
roughly, crushing his mouth with a demanding kiss. Drawing
back, Rigel's eyes glittered. "What a find you are little one !
A Jedi with the mouth of a whore."
With a choked sob, Obi-Wan spat into the scavenger's face.
Rigel's smile widened as he wiped away the spittle. Then he
kissed Obi-Wan again; biting down savagely upon the youth's
lower lip until Obi-Wan felt the soft skin split beneath the
assault. Rigel released him, grinning - teeth obscenely stained
with blood.
The scavenger sat back, redressing himself hastily. He
unfastened all of Obi-Wan's shackles bar one - binding the
youth to the bed by a wrist. "Sleep now little one." A hand
stroked down Obi-Wan's trembling side. Obi-Wan jerked away,
Rigel simply laughed. Then, obviously well pleased, the
scavenger left.
Obi-Wan scrubbed his hand back and forth across his mouth,
heedless of his torn lip, desperately trying to erase the taste
of Rigel's seed. Like the Mindus it seemed to be spreading
through his body - cold dark tendrils stretching outwards,
tainting him.
He lay back, staring into nothingness....He was lost.....
Finally he wept.....
Chapter VI
Qui-Gon sat impassively as the slave Hylas tended to his knife
wound. The slender Lycinian had attached himself to the Jedi's
side from the moment Qui-Gon had awoken aboard the Black
Narcissus. Nameless, devoid of memories or companions, Qui-Gon
was grateful for the Lycinian's cautious friendship.
There were no medical supplies, and precious little clean
water, but the slave did a passable job of cleaning and
dressing the wound. "You were fortunate Kajaar. It is deep but
not serious. See, the bleeding has already stopped." Qui-Gon
merely grunted in acknowledgement, his thoughts elsewhere.
"Kajaar ? Are you alright ?" The concern in Hylas' voice drew
him back from his reverie.
Kajaar - the name the Lycinian had given him, simply
translated it meant - 'of great height', appropriate since he
towered above Hylas' tiny, fragile frame. The delicate looking
Lycinian didn't quite reach his waist. Perhaps - Qui-Gon
thought cynically - one reason for the Lycinian's devotion.
Such a small creature needed a protector. Though, he
acknowledged wryly, it was he who had been on the receiving end
so far. Hylas had quickly informed him of the 'rules' of
survival aboard the ship. Total obedience, being the key point
to remember.
He turned to look at his small companion, smiling a little to
reassure the worry in the large amber eyes. "I'm fine. Just a
little weary."
The Lycinian snorted. "Yes, well almost dying will do
that to you." Qui-Gon's smile widened. It felt good to have
someone care whether he lived or died in this place;
even if it was for somewhat mercenary reasons. Qui-Gon's
expression grew pensive as his thoughts returned to the young
man who had saved his life. He still could not fathom the
motive behind the young man's actions.
"Hylas ?"
"Hmm ?" The Lycinian had turned his attention to the cuts
covering Qui-Gon's face.
"There was a young man-"
"Pretty ?"
Startled by the Lycinian's interruption, Qui-Gon caught the
slave's slender fingers and pulled them away from his face.
"What ? !"
The Lycinian shook himself free of Qui-Gon's grip. "I
said, w a s h e p r e t t y ?" Hylas's face wrinkled in
disgust. "Our sire has a penchant for pretty young men."
Qui-Gon stared hard at the Lycinian, who seemed bemused by his
reaction. However much to his disquiet he realised he could,
without effort, recall every detail of the young man's visage.
Pretty ? - surely too shallow a term for the
breathtaking creature who had watched him with such strange
sorrow. Even the youth's startling pallor and haunted
expression had done little to detract from his physical beauty.
From the moment Qui-Gon had been led into the galley - an
unwilling spectacle for the howling, jeering crew - his
attention had been drawn toward the youth draped across the
scavenger's broad lap. That face, with its sensuous mouth, and
high wide cheekbones had sent a rush of heat surging through
his body. The suddenness of his desire had disturbed him, and
conscious of the danger he had deliberately turned away.
However his 'awareness' of the youth had gnawed at him. Finally
he was able to bear it no longer - and had succumbed to the
youth's silent will.
Glancing across he had met the young man's steady gaze with
measured reluctance - only to be instantly captured by mutable
gray- green depths.
Strange eyes - pure, untainted, radiant - like uncut tricana
crystals. The room had slid away, in that instant nothing else
had existed...nothing except the beautiful young man seated
before him. Qui-Gon frowned, he was certain he had not mistaken
the surge of longing in those incredible eyes; it had surprised
him, even as he had responded with his own heated look.
However, he had watched as longing turned to shock...and then
to panic....fear....and finally pain. He had felt a peculiar
sense of 'loss' when the youth had abruptly turned away - as
though a 'connection' between them had been broken. Then the
room had tilted back into focus, and with it the simple matter
of his own survival.
The fight had not gone well. Still distracted by the
youth, tired, hungry and aching from what felt like a thousand
blows, he had barely managed to avoid been impaled upon the
Gracian's first murderous lunge. He had let instinct take hold
- guiding him through moves which had felt oddly familiar. He
had struggled against the Gracian's desperate ferocity, until finally
the fight had begun to turn in his favour. Victory had seemed almost certain.
Then he had heard it - cutting through the cacophony - the young man's
voice, so clear it seemed to resonate inside his head Master !. He had
felt himself respond instinctively - A warning......Danger !
He had moved....but too late.
Qui-Gon rubbed his arm, it was still stiff and numb from the blow from
the power-staff; as was his leg. A bone-deep, throbbing ache pulsating
through his limbs; but it was fading
slowly. Certainly it was no longer the jarring agony of that
first touch. The power-staff had barely grazed his shoulder yet
for an instant he had been certain he would pass out from the
pain. He had staggered, the crude blade falling from his
fingers, his rhythm lost.
Forced into retreat he had struggled to regain his balance -
but another blow from the power-staff had driven him to his
knees. Exhausted beyond all hope or reason, he had been
prepared for the inevitability of death.
He was unable to account for what had happened next.
Master ! - The cry was...inside his head. With it
came a surge of grief and suffering so strong, it had literally
wrenched him back from the brink of surrender. The knife thrust
which would have claimed his life, instead dug deep into his
shoulder. The bright hot agony shocking him back into full
awareness. Seized with a sudden, driven strength, he had
gritted his teeth against the pain and pressed forward; once
more on the attack.
The chain had wrapped around the Gracian's slender neck,
burrowing deep into the soft blue skin; he had felt the slave's
pulse thundering beneath his fingers. Every frantic twitch, the
strain of blood, bone and muscle - the desperate fight for
life. Physically he had felt it all....and yet emotionally he
had felt...nothing....Just a strange twisted emptiness;
as he had gradually choked the Gracian into death's waiting
embrace.
No ! Again the voice had broken through his stupor. A
sudden scrabbling movement catching his eye. He had looked up
slowly - and stared in shock.
Pale gray-green eyes, tears flowing steadily, but it was the
pain pouring out from those crystal depths which had reached
out to him.
Pain....pain and fear.......and somehow he knew the fear
was for him. Just as somehow he had understood what the
youth was asking of him. He had felt a strange sense of 'relief
' as he pushed the Gracian away from him. Finding the strength
to get to his feet he had faced the scavenger; enjoying the
silence around him - and the look in those eyes. Suddenly
knowing he would do anything for this nameless youth....
He hadn't been surprised when the scavenger had ordered his
death; he had expected that would be the price for his
'disobedience'.
The slave collar had tightened quickly. He had fallen - the
floor cold against his cheek - his heartbeat thudding through
his body. He had looked up into the youth's distraught gaze -
the beautiful face twisted into a mask of agonized despair.
He wanted to reach up....to touch....to comfort....
But it was too late...he was dying....
Then, through the cold silence he had heard it. A voice, a soft
melodic whisper; wrapping itself around him - warming him -
even as the words chilled his soul. Please Sire. I beg you.
Spare his life.....I beg you Sire. I...I will do whatever you
want, but spare his life
He had wanted to scream in protest....A sudden wild fury
building up inside of him.
It was still there, boiling just beneath the surface.
"He's hurting." Qui-Gon didn't even realise he had spoken aloud
until he heard Hylas' less than delicate snort.
"Hmph ! No doubt." The Lycinian's gaze softened when he saw the
raw pain in dark blue eyes. "Rigel is less than gentle with his
playthings, but he won't kill the boy." Hylas looked around the
cold damp slave pen meaningfully. "His lot is little worse than
ours."
Qui-Gon shivered, unable to dispel the image of pale flesh
bruised and bleeding. Who was he ?
Chapter VII
Nezan stared at the naked youth, shackled to the scavenger's
huge bed by one slender wrist. Even in sleep the boyish face
was lined with misery, tears staining hollow white cheeks. He
picked up the discarded clothing; taking in the torn and
tattered cloth. Sighing heavily he approached the bed, and
gently touched a bare arm. The effect was rather more alarming
than he had anticipated, as the limb struck out at him
savagely. Nezan slid off the bed, and found himself gazing up
from the floor into a pair of angry hostile eyes.
Slowly he raised his hands, "Easy, easy. I won't hurt you." The
youth stared at him, lips drawn back into a snarl. Nezan had
the distinct impression that if he got too close those sharp
white teeth would take a good sized lump out of him. He had no
intention of getting too close. He let a little of his
exasperation show. "Look I have to examine you." He
stood up, the youth pulled back sharply and Nezan caught a
glimpse of silver. His attention was drawn to the young man's
chest; he cursed as he took in the dried blood - twin sliver
hoops spearing the boy's flushed and swollen nipples.
The youth followed his gaze and Nezan watched the young man's
expression turn bitter - before shamefully trying to conceal
the defilement with his un-fettered arm. The sudden wince told
Nezan the abused flesh was still very tender. He decided to try
again to reason with the youth. "Look, I'm not here to hurt
you," he paused softening his voice, "in any way." The
young man flinched but allowed him to approach the bed. "I'm
Nezan." Bitterness clouded his own eyes for a moment, "I
'guess', I'm what passes for a Doctor in this place." The youth
watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look
I've been ordered to look at you." Nezan knew from those
expressive eyes, that the youth had caught the unspoken
implication that it would bode ill for them both if he failed.
"What's your name ?"
Hesitation....a flicker of uncertainty...then - "Obi-Wan."
Nezan's mouth twisted wryly, "Well Obi-Wan, under different
circumstances I'd be pleased to meet you." He met the youth's
gaze grimly. "Will you let me look at you ?" Nezan waited
patiently, if the boy refused he would simply have him subdued
and restrained, but he would rather the youth submit willingly.
He felt his innards crawl when he thought what this boy may
already have endured.
He was relieved when the youth nodded shakily. "Al..alright."
Keeping his manner brisk and as impersonal as he could, Nezan
examined the youth. Obi-Wan was compliant, but Nezan could feel
the tension radiating off the youth's body. Obi-Wan drew back
again as soon as Nezan indicated he was finished. "You've been
very ill." Nezan didn't pretend it was a question; even someone
without medical knowledge could have picked up on the signs.
Nezan catalogued them for himself silently. It was clear from
the young man's build and muscle tone that Obi-Wan had spent a
lot of time pursuing a very high level of fitness and
suppleness - far beyond that of the normal twenty-something.
However there had been dramatic weight loss, the ribs and
cheekbones very prominent, the eyes sunken. Since the muscles
were largely unaffected he surmised the weight loss had been
recent and sudden. Nezan frowned, he did not want an epidemic
onboard....not now....not when he was so close...
"Do you know what was wrong ?" Gray-green eyes regarded him
suspiciously. Nezan felt frustration creep in. "Obi-Wan I know
you are Jedi."
The youth stared at him in unguarded shock."You...you know ?"
Exasperated, Nezan nodded. "The whole crew knows. Hell most of
them wanted you and your friend tossed out the nearest
airlock."
"Why..why didn't they ?"
Nezan snorted. "Rigel changed their minds. He can be quite
persuasive" Caught up in his disgust for the scavenger
captain, Nezan jumped when the youth slid forward and grabbed
his arm.
"My Master-"
Confused Nezan interrupted,"Who ?"
It was the boy's turn to look impatient. "The other Jedi. Is he
alright ? Have you seen him ?"
Seeing the desperate concern in the young man's gaze, Nezan
felt a twinge of compassion. He shook his head, his voice soft,
"No. Rigel has little interest in providing medical care for
slaves." His voice rose in contempt, "Hell, he doesn't care
that much about getting it for his crew."
Obi-Wan tightened his grip. "Can you get to him ?"
"Wh-what ? !" Nezan shook his head, pulling his arm free. "Uh-
uh. No way!" He stood up. "Rigel will have me
thrown out the nearest airlock if I so much as look at your
'friend'." The youth knelt up on the bed, straining against his
chain. Nezan watched appalled, as fresh blood began to trickle
from the welts around the young man's wrist. "Here !" He sat
back down on the bed, grabbing the youth's arm. "Here ! Don't
do that !"
Obi-Wan ignored him, eyes blazing - grief to the point of
madness. Disturbed, Nezan continued to speak soothingly to the
youth; taking out a small jar from his bag, he gently smoothed
the lotion into the weeping flesh. "Sssh, there. Be still. Be
still." Gradually, the young man's struggles lessened, and he
sat breathing heavily. Nezan listened to the painful wheezing
gasps with growing concern. "Look. I...I might be able to get
some medical supplies sent to him." Obi-Wan nodded dully. Nezan
felt unaccountably angry. "I'm sorry but it's the best I
can do."
He handed the young man the jar. "Here rub this into...." His
voice trailed off as gray-green eyes, dark with suffering,
turned toward him. "Well...just use it anywhere that hurts."
Nezan was startled when the youth gave a sound somewhere
between a laugh and a sob. Troubled, he found himself sitting
back down; slipping a comforting arm - cautiously - around
slender trembling shoulders. He felt Obi-Wan stiffen, and then
lean into the embrace slightly. Nezan hesitated, and then
somewhat awkwardly brought up his other arm. He jumped when
Obi-Wan suddenly turned in toward him, burying his face against
Nezan's chest. Something inside Nezan twisted sharply as a
harsh broken sob burst forth, and then another. The violence of
the boy's grief shaking the body in his arms. Instinctively
Nezan tightened his hold, drawing the youth even closer;
resting his head on surprisingly soft spiky hair. He didn't try
to offer any patronizing platitudes - What could he say
?...That everything would be alright ?
Eventually the harsh wracking sobs became noisy gulps, and then
silence. Obi-Wan struggled lightly, and Nezan released him. The
young man shifted away, wiping at his eyes savagely. Obi-Wan
seemed bewildered and embarrassed by his loss of control. Nezan
knew better, he realized the youth was in a state of mild shock
- and probably had been since he was brought aboard. Cursing
under his breath, Nezan shrugged out of his jacket and placed
around the shivering youth's shoulders. Obi-Wan shot him a
puzzled look, but accepted the offering - fingers closing
convulsively around the lightweight material.
Nezan sat, chewing on his lip nervously. He felt for the boy -
he really did, but he still wasn't sure just how far he could
trust the youth; Jedi or not.
"Why are you here ?"
Nezan blinked stupidly. "Wh-what ?"
"You treat me with compassion. You obviously care nothing
for..for R-Rigel," Obi-Wan's voice caught a little on the
scavenger's name, "Why do you stay with these people ?"
Nezan stared at the young man silently for a moment, still
trying to decide how much he should or could tell. "I....I have
something to do here. When that's done, then I'll leave." He
suddenly found himself uncomfortable beneath that calm clear
gaze. It was hard to connect this young man - who regarded him
so impassively; with the half hysterical boy who had sobbed in
his arms only a moment before. He had heard that Jedi could
read minds, and despite the slave collar, found himself
wondering anxiously if it were true.
"You are on a mission ?"
Nezan went cold. "No !" He knew he had protested too vehemently
when the youth's eyebrows rose slightly. "Look I...I have to
go."
"No !" This time it was the youth's turn to protest; Obi-Wan
snatched at his hand, holding on to it with surprisingly
strength. "Please. Look if you will help us, perhaps my Master
and I can assist you."
Nezan shook his head, struggling to break loose. "No ! You
can't do anything. Just let me go !" The young man clung on
with alarming tenacity and Nezan briefly considered calling for
a guard, but quickly rejected the idea. "Obi-Wan please ! There
is nothing I can do !" The fearful desperation in his voice
seemed to reach the young Jedi, who released him abruptly.
Nezan staggered, before regaining his balance; he turned to
leave but the young man's voice called him back.
"Nezan ?" Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath. "My Master he..he's
lost his memory-"
Nezan nodded, "The stun gun - yes I know."
"Will it...will it come back ?"
The pure misery in the young man's gaze struck him like a
physical blow, and Nezan buckled. Slowly he retraced his
footsteps back to the bed and sat down. He managed to meet
Obi-Wan's eyes with difficulty. "Honestly ?" he shrugged. "I
don't know." The youth sagged visibly. Nezan tried to explain.
"Sometimes it does, but it tends to take time, and...well,
slaves don't tend to have a lot of that."
Obi-Wan looked away, seemingly digesting this new information.
Then he turned back to face Nezan, frowning, "What does he want
them for ?"
Nezan sighed, he'd hoped to avoid this conversation. "These are
scavengers." Obi-Wan nodded impatiently. "Well, some of the
places they go are...unsafe to say the least. Rigel
seems to think slaves are more reliable, and less expensive
then droids. Personally I think he just hates droids." It was
Nezan's turn to look a little bewildered. "He's a hard man to
figure out. I mean he actually reads all this stuff," he waved
his arms around the room at the books overflowing from every
shelf. "Philosophy, religion. He's an 'educated' man." Nezan
shook his head nonplused. "But he has no soul, no compassion.
It's like there's this big space where his humanity should be."
Nezan felt the young man shudder, and cursed - of course the
young man knew that
"Look I....I don't think he'll have your 'master' killed. Not
yet." He left the - Not while he's still useful to ensure
your compliance - unspoken.
Obi-Wan looked at him beseechingly. "Nezan I have to see
him."
"You're crazy !"
Obi-Wan shook his head, "No. You don't understand, I may be
able to help him. I have to help him !" The young man
looked away, speaking softly, more to himself than Nezan, "At
least I have to try."
"Forget it !" Nezan forgot about trying not to 'paw' the youth
and grabbed his chin - pulling Obi-Wan around to face him.
"There is no way Rigel will let you within spitting
distance of your master." Gray- green eyes locked with his, and
Nezan cursed the stubborn determination in them. "He'll
kill you. Hell, he'll kill you both !"
"I need your help." The young man's cultured voice was
perfectly calm; which only made Nezan more edgy.
"What part of no don't you understand ? ! I c a n n o
t h e l p y o u !" He jumped up, and began to pace -
constantly aware of the young man watching him coolly from the
bed. Nezan ran a hand through his hair, dragging up the short
black tufts. Finally he stopped and turned to face
Obi-Wan."Alright." He tried to ignore Obi-Wan's expression, and
the strange rush of exhilaration it gave him. "But it'll take a
little time to set up."
Nezan began to pace again - it helped him think. "I have some
equipment. Nothing fancy, but it can't be moved around. If I
can convince Rigel I need it, he might -might let me
take you to the lab." He caught Obi-Wan's concerned look and
hastened to explain. "We don't really have any medical
facilities, I store what equipment we have in a room near my
quarters." Deep brown eyes glittered with amusement. "The crew
call it the lab - it's not popular with them." His expression
turned more thoughtful, "But that's to our advantage. None of
them go in there unless ordered to."
"Rigel ?" Nezan guessed. The young man nodded gravely. "That's
where the time factor comes in. We're heading for Tattooine.
Rigel has some business to conduct with the Hutts. It should
take a day or two at least, the Hutts don't like to be
hurried." Nezan grinned, the essence of a plan already taking
shape in his mind. "He won't take you down there. Much
too risky. The Hutts might insist on having a share of you and
Rigel would not like that." Nezan glanced back at
Obi-Wan who was pale but composed.
Now the young Jedi had 'recovered' a little, Nezan found
himself revising his initial impression - the 'boy' was in fact
probably only a handful of years younger than his own
thirty-one. So why did he feel aeons older ? Nezan
glanced past Obi-Wan's shoulder, staring at his reflection in
the huge wall mirror. Short black hair - sticking up at all
angles thanks to his nervous habit of pulling at it when
stressed. Even shorter beard, neatly trimmed with no sign of
gray. Brown eyes - 'warm and caring' a girl had once told
him.....but she was long since dead.
He thought of the real reason he was here. Could he risk that
for the sake of two men who were expected to give up their
lives for duty anyway ? Nezan looked back at Obi-Wan, who was
watching him silently; there was a wealth of understanding in
those startlingly clear eyes.
Suddenly Nezan realised - he was not aeons older - they
both were. They were both older than their 'real' years. They
had both seen too much, suffered too much. He crouched down
before Obi-Wan, taking one cold hand between both of his;
feeling Obi-Wan twitch a little at the unexpected contact.
"Listen this...this is going to be hard." Gray- green eyes
widened a little. Nezan took a deep breath, and met their
troubled gaze steadily. "You're going to have to trust me. I
will do what I can, but you...you-" Nezan sighed, he
hated this - "you will have to keep Rigel sweet."
The fingers in his grasp jerked once, and from the fearful
panic in Obi-Wan's eyes, Nezan guessed the Jedi understood the
meaning of sweet. However this was not the time to be
gentle. Ignoring the taste of bile in his mouth, Nezan pressed
on brutally. "Whatever he wants give it to him." Nezan
pressed his lips together grimly."Can you do that ?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Nezan waited - trying hard not to push
for an answer. When the young man opened them there was a
certain icy hardness to those gray-green depths which hadn't
been there before.
"I will do what needs to be done."
Nezan winced a little at the bitter resignation in Obi-Wan's
voice. "Right...Good." He gave the young man's hand a gentle
squeeze before releasing it.
Obi-Wan's eyes followed him as he stood up. "Nezan ?"
"Hmm ?"
"Thank you."
The simple sincerity in the Jedi's voice cut through Nezan's
hard veneer like a laser torch. Unable to speak for a moment he
just nodded, but the look that passed between them was more
eloquent than a thousand words. Finally Nezan found his voice
again. "Obi- Wan?" Nezan paused, looking down at his feet. He
glanced back up and sucked in a breath. "There's...there's no
shame in surviving."
Obi-Wan responded with a strange, sad little smile.
Nezan decided it was time to go, but he had one more question
that needed to be answered. "Your illness. What was it ?" He
got a dark, unreadable look before Obi-Wan whispered an answer
"Poison."
"What ? !" Nezan's voice rose in amazement. Obi-Wan just gave
him another sad little smile. Nezan ran his hand through hair,
"I mean... How did-"
Obi-wan cut in quickly, "It doesn't matter."
Nezan opened his mouth to object and then shut it again.
"Right." He looked at the Jedi's impassive visage - impressive
the way they could apparently 'shut themselves down' like that.
Still he knew better - Jedi wept just like ordinary men. "So.
You're alright now ?"
"Yes." A tone that brooked no argument. Well that was fine with
Nezan. One less thing to worry about.
"Fine." Nezan still hesitated. He had already been here far
longer than was safe - he did not want a suspicious, jealous
Rigel to deal with. It would do him little good to protest that
his preferences were for more curvaceous creatures. Rigel was
insane, insane men could not be reasoned with. He smiled
inwardly - but they could still be tricked. "Obi-Wan what's
your Master's name ?"
Slight, almost imperceptible hesitation, then - "Qui-Gon."
Nezan opened the door; he wasn't sure what else to say. He
looked at the young Jedi; Obi-Wan's composure was slipping
slightly. Nezan forced a smile onto his face; Obi-Wan gave a
slight nod.
Nezan drew in a deep breath and stepped through the door. It
slid shut behind him and he lent against it for a moment.
Nezan my friend. I hope you know what you are doing He
snorted in disgust Yeah right. You're just a sucker for big
eyes and a sob story. Dragging himself forward he slouched
off down the passageway - toward the slave quarters - muttering
under his breath.
Chapter VIII
Qui-Gon eyed the slim young man in front of him doubtfully.
"You're a medic ?"
The young man ran a hand back over his head, spiking up the
short black hair. "I'm a doctor. Look, do you want me to
have a look at that knife wound or not ?"
Eyes still dark with mistrust, Qui-Gon seated himself
impassively upon the floor before the young man. "You may
proceed."
Unbelievable Nezan thought as he knelt down and
carefully bared Qui-Gon's knife wound. He had to hand it to
these Jedi, they had some nerve, suddenly he felt like
the slave. Still the older man's quiet dignity impressed him.
No doubt about it the older Jedi had 'presence' - no wonder the
boy spoke of him with such revered adoration. Nezan examined
the wound - deep, but it was healing well. Another Jedi thing ?
Nezan found himself growing steadily more agitated. Just how
exactly was he going to do this ? Hell the old guy didn't
even know who he was !
Qui-Gon frowned, the young Doctor seemed strangely nervous.
Perhaps because there was no guard present ? - something which
struck him as decidedly odd.
After Hylas had finished tending to him, Qui-Gon had fallen
into a restless sleep - plagued by dreams of red-eyed demons
and a green eyed youth screaming. He had woken feeling sick and
unsettled. His sense of alarm intensified when he realised that
he was alone in the slave pen. Then this nervous young man had
stepped in - jumping as the pen's electronic lock hissed shut
behind him.
Qui-Gon had stood up and stepped back a little - to put some
room between him and his 'visitor', and also to gain a
psychological advantage. The young man being almost a head
shorter and of a slighter build. It had worked, Qui-Gon watched
as the man swallowed reflexively, running his hand back and
forth through his short hair. Qui-Gon had already noticed the
absence of a slave collar. The man was quick to pick up his
unease and hastily introduced himself as - 'Nezan - What passed
for a Doctor on this ship.'
Qui-Gon was satisfied that Nezan did at least have some medical
knowledge. Despite the man's edginess, the hands investigating
his wound were sure and skilful. Perhaps the man was simply
unhappy tending to a slave ? Qui-Gon's mouth twisted bitterly.
"Are you done ?"
"What ? Oh...Yes." Nezan sat back on his heels. He seemed to be
struggling to meet Qui-Gon's impassive gaze. "Listen...I...That
is..." The Doctor's voice trailed off, he looked frustrated.
Qui-Gon arched one fine brow in inquiry. "That is....Oh
Hell. Look, do you know who you are ?" The words tumbled
out in a rush, and Nezan watched him warily for his response.
Qui-Gon stiffened."No." His voice was cold, dismissive.
Nezan looked like someone had punched him in the gut."Nothing ?
!" His voice had a faint edge of despair. "I mean you don't
remember your name-" The sentence ended on a squeak, as Qui-Gon
shot forward with alarming speed and grabbed the Doctor.
"You know my name ?" The words came out as a desperate
hiss. deep blue eyes almost black in the dim light.
Nezan nodded, "Yes...Qui-Gon !...Your name is Qui-Gon !" The
young Doctor sprawled back as he was abruptly released. Nezan
wasted no time scrambling to his feet and moving away.
Qui-Gon sat silently, his face suffused with sudden wonder -
Qui- Gon He glanced back up at Nezan, who was pacing
nervously - muttering something about - '...a very bad idea'.
"Thank you."
"What...?"
"For giving me back my name." Qui-Gon dipped his head slightly.
"Thank you."
"Oh. Right." Nezan was momentarily flustered - all this sincere
gratitude was beginning to get to him. He stepped forward
warily, crouching down a little way from the Jedi."Listen,"
Nezan lowered his voice to a whisper. "Since you don't remember
anything I guess you don't remember that you're a Jedi ?" At
Qui-Gon's incredulous look Nezan groaned inwardly. "How about
the boy. You remember him." Ah - that got a very
different response. "You do remember him ?" However
Nezan's hopeful look was washed away when Qui-Gon shook his
head.
"No...I ....I feel something...I.-" the Jedi clenched
his fists, eyes blazing with a sudden anguish. "-I don't
remember him." Nezan flinched at the raw pain in the Jedi's
voice. Qui-Gon stared at him, the anger slowly draining away.
"Do..do you know his name ?"
"Obi-Wan."
"Obi-Wan." The Jedi repeated the name softly, eyes shining with
emotion. Then the flare of anger was back. "Rigel has him." It
wasn't really a question but Nezan nodded anyway. "Tell me."
Qui-Gon turned the full force of his gaze upon the Doctor -
eyes now burning with a desperate urgency. "Tell me about him."
A flicker of something unreadable. "Tell me who I am."
Nezan shrugged helplessly. "I...I don't know." The older Jedi's
deep sadness clawed at Nezan in the same way that Obi-Wan's
grief had. He was filled with a sudden urge to run, to hide
from all this pain, and bleak angry despair. He quashed the
feeling ruthlessly, drawing in a deep breath. "Alright. This is
what I do know. You were picked up from an uncharted planet in
sector twelve. Apparently your ship was so much scrap metal, so
I'm guessing it wasn't a planned landing. Anyway you and
Obi-Wan were stunned and brought aboard, along with a few other
things from your ship."
"What makes you think we are Jedi ?"
Nezan shook his head bemused. "Well I don't know of any one
else who carries a lightsaber." This got him a faintly
incredulous look.
"I have a lightsaber ?"
"Well they found two amongst your belongs. I guess they took
two guys in robes, two lightsabers and thought - Hey two Jedi
!" Nezan's sarcasm was not lost on Qui-Gon, who frowned. Nezan
sighed. "Well Rigel knows a bit about your kind too I think. He
muttered something about a Padwan braid ?"
"Padawan." Qui-Gon muttered softly
"Yeah. That was it - Padawan." Nezan started suddenly, and
stared at Qui-Gon. "That was it ! Padawan !" His excited
whisper drew a puzzled look from Qui-Gon. "You knew it !
You corrected me !"
Qui-Gon stared at him, then his gaze turned inwards for an
instant, before the Jedi looked back at Nezan in
disappointment. "It doesn't mean anything to me."
Nezan refused to be disheartened. "That's not the point. You
knew. Professionally speaking, I'd say that there's a good
chance that your memory is starting to return." He grinned.
"Must be that Jedi blood." Qui-Gon responded with a faint weary
smile, but Nezan was sure he had detected a glimmer of hope in
it. "Anyway the rest you know. You're here and Obi-Wan....",
Nezan's delight faded.
Qui-Gon finished the sentence."Is with Rigel."
There was an uncomfortable silence as both men absorbed the
implication of that simple statement. Finally Nezan spoke.
"He's worried about you." Dark blue eyes met his, and Nezan was
beginning to get an inkling of that hitherto unreadable emotion
burning in their depths - Longing - pure, desperate
longing. The same thing he had seen in Obi-Wan's eyes every
time the young man had mentioned his 'master'. Nezan felt a twinge
of pity for them both - Well 'master Jedi', you might not remember him,
but you sure as Hell still want him. He filed the information away, and
pressed on. "You're all he's concerned about. He asked me to look at your
injuries. He...he wants to meet with you."
That got a reaction.
"Is that possible ?" The older Jedi looked hopeful, doubtful and suspicious all at once.
Nezan took another deep breath, this was where he committed himself. If he was
misjudging the man before him - he was dead. Rigel was not the 'forgiving'
type. "Well the plan is I
get him into my lab for some tests. Then somehow I get you up
there too."
"Somehow ?"
"Well I'm still working on that bit." At the Jedi's
increasingly doubtful look, Nezan felt slightly indignant. "It
shouldn't be too hard. Slaves are easily controlled through
their collars, so they're pretty much given free run of a lot
of the ship once they've learnt the rules."
"Rules ?"
Nezan looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well rule really.
Obedience or death."
The Jedi responded with a simple."Ah."
"Anyway," Nezan hurried on, "Rigel has some business off ship.
He'll take most of the crew with him. There aren't actually
that many of them," Nezan explained, "and the Hutts are usually
impressed by a significant show of force."
"So the ship will only have a skeleton crew." Qui-Gon mused
thoughtfully.
"Exactly !" Nezan was relieved the Jedi was beginning to look
slightly more convinced. It gave him faith that his plan wasn't
as hopeless as he'd feared. "I'll think up some excuse," he
shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe I'll say I need you for
comparative tests or something. These guys don't know much
about Jedi, they'll probably believe anything I tell them." His
expression grew more serious. "You won't have long though. I
daren't risk Rigel finding out that the two of you have been in
contact. He is way too smart to be taken in by anything
I say. Besides he knows more about Jedi than I do."
Qui-Gon nodded, "I understand." The Jedi looked at the Doctor
questioningly. "If I might ask a question ?"
A little uncertainly Nezan gave his consent.
"Why are you helping us ?"
Nezan pulled a face. It always came back to this. Why did Jedi
have to be so damned inquisitive. Why couldn't they just except
his assistance without asking a lot of questions - Why ? -
probably because they were Jedi. "I...Look can you just accept
that I'm not exactly one of these guys. I don't care for
what's happening to your friend. Rigel -" Nezan sucked in a
deep breath, "Rigel is a monster." Nezan felt the Jedi
flinch, and cursed his own insensitivity. "Look, I just want to
help. Will you let me ?"
The Jedi nodded, his expression bleak "Yes."
"Good. Just...just try to keep your head down for a few days
alright ?" Nezan went over to the door and banged on it loudly.
He looked back at the Jedi who stood up a little stiffly.
"I understand."
Nezan stepped back as the door was opened, he gave the Jedi one
last brief look and then left - Still questioning his sanity.
Chapter IX
"Wake up little one."
Obi-Wan jerked awake, instinctively recoiling from the hand
which reached out to caress his naked buttocks. Rigel frowned.
"Now little one. I thought I had made it very clear." A
hand shot forward seizing the slender chain - pulling it.
Obi-Wan bit down hard; a whimper escaping his clenched teeth.
"I will not tolerate such behaviour." Rigel's voice
lowered to a throaty purr. "Now lie back little one and let me
touch you."
Choking on his revulsion, Obi-Wan rolled over onto his back and
lay - still and compliant - except for the shivers which shook
his slender frame. Rigel's large hands slid over his body,
stroking across his belly, sweeping up to gently tug the rings
in his still tender nipples - making him hiss. Warm calloused
fingers traced over his collar bone, his throat - the slaver
collar, then down again - his thighs, his calves. Each foot
held and studied as though it were some precious artifact. "So
lovely...So very lovely." Rigel crooned the words, leaning
forward until his breath was hot against Obi-Wan's cold skin.
"I see Nezan left you his jacket." Obi-Wan stiffened. "I think
we should return it. Don't you ?"
"Y-yes." Obi-Wan barely managed to gulp out the words.
"Hmm. Yes I think so." Obi-Wan gave a sharp cry as Rigel seized
one nipple, twisting it viciously. "You accept gifts from
no-one but me ! Understand ? No-one but me !"
"Yes !...Yess !" Obi-Wan moaned desperately, tears springing
into his eyes.
Satisfied Rigel released him; licking the fresh blood from his
fingers. Obi-Wan lay back gasping, his chest felt on fire - hot
blades of agony slicing through his body. //Master !//
The scavenger's hands returned, stroking his belly - seeming to
enjoy the sensation of wildly trembling muscles. They suddenly
swept lower, and Obi-Wan forgot about obedience, gasping "No !"
as he tried to pull away. Rigel responded by seizing Obi-Wan's
free arm - shackling it to the hook and chain set-up above the
headboard. Obi- Wan wailed, writhing madly; fear driving him
beyond all reason. Rigel simply used his greater strength to
pin his flailing legs, laughing at the young man's hysteria.
However the scavenger tired of it quickly - striking Obi-Wan
across the face with enough force to half-stun the youth, who
fell abruptly silent.
"That's better little one. Now remember what I said. Obedience
- or I will have your friend tortured to death."
"Qui-Gon...." Obi-Wan murmured, still dazed.
Rigel hissed in anger, wrapping his fingers around Obi-Wan's
throat, "Do not mention another's name in my bed ! He
shook the youth, who's eyes began to roll back. Rigel noticed
and released Obi-Wan abruptly. Cursing, the scavenger reached
over and snatched up a bottle from the shelf nearest to the
bed. Uncorking it, he passed the open contents back and forth
under Obi-Wan's nose. The effect was instantaneous, as
Obi-Wan's eyes shot open and he jerked away, coughing and
gasping. Rigel threw the bottle aside, and moved back to
straddle Obi-Wan.
"Enough little one. I forgive your...indiscretions. I
will 'speak' with Nezan later." Rigel lowered his face to
Obi-Wan's, staring into the young man's eyes with rapt
adoration. "Now my beautiful little one, show me your
pleasure." Obi-Wan stared back fearfully, eyes widening in
sudden horrified understanding, as Rigel's huge hand wrapped
around his lax genitals, massaging them gently.
No...No...Noooo! Obi-Wan screamed silently, as -
impossibly - he felt his flesh begin to stiffen. Rigel seemed
to sense his agonized disbelief. "You cannot fight it little
one. The ale..." the scavenger smiled, "Your ale had
Verusian spice in it."
Obi-Wan gazed at his tormentor - Verusian spice...a powerful
aphrodisiac. Not a drug - his mind and body would still be his
own - but it would heighten every nerve ending, making him an
unwillinging participant in his own rape
Rigel watched him hungrily, "Come my lovely. Let me see your
pleasure. I know you feel it." Obi-Wan gave a hoarse sob of
denial, but he could feel it, twisting up from deep
inside his belly. Serpent like it slithered through his body,
coiling around his innards - an ice cold arousal. He wanted to
fight it...he wanted to...but even as he pulled uselessly at
the chains which bound him, Obi-Wan remembered the Doctor's
words - Sweet. Stifling the revulsion which threatened
to swamp his sanity, Obi-Wan tried to calm his mind;
controlling his fear, harnessing it - mastering it.
"I..I'm sorry..Sire." Rigel frowned, the hand slowed a little.
Obi-Wan drew in a sharp breath. "I should...should not have
asked..." The hand stopped. "The jacket, I should not..."
Obi-Wan struggled to sort the words, his tongue felt clumsy in
his mouth.
"You asked for the jacket ?" Rigel snapped.
"Yes...I...I'm sorry Sire. I...I was cold." That at least was
not a lie. Obi- Wan forced himself to meet the scavenger's
one-eyed gaze.
After what seemed like an endless moment, Rigel nodded. "You
are forgiven little one." Rigel's hand, still enclosed around
Obi-Wan's hardened shaft, began to move again. Obi-Wan prayed
he had done enough to divert Rigel's anger from Nezan. He
closed his eyes as Rigel began to speed up his motions. "No !
Open them !" Despairingly, Obi- Wan obeyed. "I want to see your
eyes when I make you come little one. Now" - the scavenger's
voice was husky with excitement - "come for me !."
Obi-Wan sobbed as he felt his climax building up through his
body. There was no fierce passionate heat, only an unbearable
bitter cold. With a cry of sheer despair his orgasm was ripped
from him, a steady pulsating stream pouring out of his tortured
flesh. Rigel hissed in pleasure, feeling the young man's hot
seed gushing over his fingers; continuing to milk the boys
sensitized flesh, even as Obi-Wan cried and whimpered, trying
to twist away.
All Obi-Wan could feel was cold...even his seed was like ice,
tearing through his body - encasing him in a frigid, glacial
skin.
"Oh yess ! My little one...My beautiful Obi-Wan !" Rigel
gasped.
Obi-Wan began to whimper piteously; his heightened sensitivity
making the friction against his spent flesh unbearably painful.
Just when he thought he could bear it no longer, Rigel stopped.
Obi-Wan's breath caught as his legs were roughly pushed up
against his chest - fingers slick with his own seed, probing at
the entrance to his body. Obi-Wan's whimpers died away - numbed
into shock by what was happening to him....
Obi-Wan was released suddenly, as Rigel drew back to undress.
The scavenger hurriedly throwing aside boots, shirt and
breeches, hands shaking with excitement. Rigel's broad chest
was smooth, one dark nipple pierced by a slender silver bar. A
tattoo - like a black spider - scrolled across the scavenger's
skin; the wide, black spirals snaking outwards across his ribs
to curl around his back. Rigel snatched at something from the
shelf by the bed, he uncorked it and the pungent odour of rich
oil filled the air.
Obi-Wan shuddered violently, the smell of the oil jarring his
mind back to another time...another place - a nightmare within
a nightmare. A dark room in a back street tavern, stranger's
voices discussing his price - a violation that had never
happened. This time there would be no rescue. Qui-Gon would not
come.
Almost mindless with fear, he watched the scavenger coating his
massive erection with the oil. How could he bear this ?!
He tensed as Rigel moved back into position, wincing as his
legs were again pushed painfully against his chest, knees drawn
up. Shame burned into him, scalding his cold skin with scarlet
flame. Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan forced himself to remain
silent, as one thick, oil-coated digit pushed into him. He
gagged, revulsion churning through him, as he felt the finger
twist and turn inside him. A small hiss of pain escaped, as a
second finger joined the first - opening him, readying him. A
third finger - and Obi-Wan cried out.
"So tight," Rigel moaned in pleasure. "Oh, so exquisitely tight
little one." The fingers pushed deeper, and Obi-Wan arched up
gasping - a hot burning pain ripping through his abused flesh.
The fingers withdrew, and he sank back - absorbing the dull
throbbing ache.
Rigel was breathing heavily, the scavenger's whole body shaking
with excitement. "Now little one. Now !" Obi-Wan
felt his muscles spasm in screaming protest, as Rigel pushed
his legs up even higher. Then he felt it - the hot, rigid
length nudging at the entrance to his body.
"N-no" Obi-Wan sobbed in desperate protest, "Please n..no-"
With a grunt the scavenger shoved forwards, forcing the head
past the tight ring of muscle. Sharp, white pain - splitting
him. Obi-Wan thrashed against the bed, pulling frantically
against his chains. Squirming, he tried to wrench away, but
Rigel held him fast; the scavenger's own body weight pinning
Obi-Wan's legs back. Rigel's hands gripped Obi-Wan's thighs
savagely, bruising the tender flesh. Another grunt of effort
and Rigel drove deeper - dragging a gurgled scream from the
back of Obi-Wan's throat.
Sobbing, Obi-Wan struggled to breathe against the burning
torment, but as Rigel began to move the agony intensified,
white hot shards tearing into his body. Tears streamed down his
face, stinging - choking. //Master....Master...Help
me....!// Obi-Wan felt as though he were being torn apart;
with each thrust it seemed the skin was being flayed from his
body. Raw and bleeding, his screams faded into tearful groans
as Rigel pounded into him - the scavenger's breathing speeding
up as he neared his release. With a hoarse, triumphant cry
Rigel came. As Obi-Wan felt the scavenger's seed gush into his
body - the shadows rose up to claim him, and gratefully he
plunged into icy nothingness.
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