Current mood:	accomplished
Entry tags:	ornamenti

Star Wars writing!
And more collaboration! The writing in parentheses is out-of-character comments between myself and shoiryu that I considered either plot-important or just damned amusing. :D Enjoy!

Part 8: A Jedi killer, mighty Sabe, and Obi-Wan's history.

The hum of the ship's engine was so low and so smooth that it did not penetrate heavy sleep, not even in the slightest. The air was generally cool, but not the frigid chill of Hoth's snow, more a pleasant, relaxing, sterile emptiness. There was nothing unclean here, and nothing unnecessary. The walls were a muted grey, and they were lined with various sorts of restraining devices, cuffs, chains, no door handles, no keypads, no opening of anything from the inside.
A containment cell.
And a child's voice, murmuring hesitantly in Padme's ear, soft hands on her cheek:
"Miss? Hello?"

She stirred hesitantly, mutely absorbing the staggering change in her surroundings for a few moments before replying, "Hello. Who are you?"
The gray shapes of other captives formed small mounds against the walls, though Padme couldn't count more than two from her vantage point.
This isn't good.

There were few who were restrained- in fact, the only one who actually seemed to be bound was the boy who'd addressed her. He wore shackles on his wrists, a tight collar around his throat. His eyes and hair were both dark, and he didn't look much older than twelve or thirteen. There was a small braid, threaded with red, tucked behind his right ear.
"I'm Rin," he said, expression one of perfect concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Padme sat up warily, concerned that there might be aftereffects of that dizziness she remembered before the black. There were none. "My name's Padme." She looked around, counting unconscious bundles and measuring sizes. "...do you know who our kidnapper is?"

"Hata," said Rin, and the word carried a frightened weight to it, as another child might say the word "boogeyman". "He's of the Hata, he has to be." He lifted his chin to show her the collar he wore- there was no discernable clasp with which to open it. "See?" He blinked those soulful dark eyes at her. "They're Jedi Killers."
Four shapes, three children-sized, and the fourth certainly large enough to be Anakin Skywalker, though if it was he gave no hint of movement.

She pressed her lips together, but did not give in to fear. There were ways to escape from worse. Best to address the problem rather than agonize over it. "What kind of restraining collar are you wearing, Rin?" Once Anakin woke up- she hoped it would be soon- perhaps he could give it a look and figure out the method of removal... Then Padme might be able to remove his. Or not.
Her utility belt had disappeared, so they would certainly have to improvise.

The Padawan gave his head a small shake, brow furrowing. "It constricts when I try to touch the Force," he said. "I was drugged before, but it's mostly worn off... I checked on the others, too. They're all alive and okay, I think, but Skywalker's got something stuck in his neck." That he knew Anakin, at least by sight, didn't seem to be something to make a fuss over. They did live in the same building, after all.

She smiled in relief at the news of everyone's genral healthiness, gently patting the boy's hand. "Thank you. I know what he has stuck in his neck."
His linker. And now he's been captured by a Jedi Killer. But I don't think the Hata has the controls, otherwise Obi-Wan would be here as well... She frowned a little, remembering how Anakin had managed to reach her by thought in the scrap store earlier. It obviously came easily to him, the telepathy. Mind-to-mind communication must be commonplace with the Jedi... Common enough that they could communicate with others the same way. Through the Force.
Obi-Wan had been able to communicate with Sabe in the Rajah's palace.
If everything's alive, and everything is part of the Force... -I- don't have a restraining collar.
Padme thought very clearly of Obi-Wan and her best friend, hoping that distance wouldn't diminish whatever feeble attempt she was making to provide a beacon for the others.
Help us. We are here. This way.

Yoinomyoujou: (Oooh, SMART girl, Padme. :D)
AraiYasha: (XD Yep. She's intelligent.)
Yoinomyoujou: (INCIDENTALLY, do you know where they're going? :D)

Rin blinked at her, eyes widening a little as he felt the stirring of power- not a Jedi's strength, certainly, but a determined focus that vibrated at the strings of the Force he could still sense, but not touch himself. "Is there someone looking for you?" he asked softly. "...You haven't seen my Master, have you?"
Padme's reach stirred Anakin, slightly, and he rolled over onto his side. There was a momentary rise of power, and then quite suddenly he jerked, choking, eyes snapping open in surprised alarm as his own collar restricted.

Her eyes were closed, concentrating. "I'm not sure about your Master, Rin..."
Handmaidens were taught a form of meditation, and Padme moved back and let the slow beat of her heart provide the tempo for her thoughts.
Help us. We are here. This way. Help us. We are here-
And smiled when something else incredibly protective grabbed those thoughts, even though it was far away. She felt /exhausted/, and gladly relinquished control of that connection to the other, ocean-like presence.
"...but I think Master Obi-Wan Kenobi will catch up with us soon." She patted Rin on the head, feeling sleepy, dizzy, and light-headed all at once while amazingly calm. "Anakin, please don't move." Padme had to suppress a yawn, feeling a whole new respect for the Jedi powers of concentration, particularly Obi-Wan's. He must have been searching intently for any sign of their presence. "That restraining collar is probably the choking kind."

AraiYasha: (And Padme is humble.)
Yoinomyoujou: (SHE'S SO AWESOME AAA.)
AraiYasha: (SHE'S PROTECTIVE IN AN EXTREMELY SINGLE-MINDED FASHION. :D)

Anakin's eyes were open now as he tried to catch his breath, a look of utter fury on his face. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed. "Where are we." Voice flat.
Rin looked at him, though Padme's hand on his head seemed to make him more inclined to stay near her. "Hata," was all he said, and there was understanding in Anakin's eyes then, too. He sat up, carefully, and cocked his head, listening to the sound of the engine. "...Hyperdrive engaged," he said, finally. "We're going /somewhere/..."

"Hm." Was all Padme said to that information, looking around at the other children expectantly. They didn't wake up; perhaps whatever drug it had been was still overpowering their systems. She scooched towards Anakin. "How badly did your collar hurt you?"

Anakin lifted his bound hands slightly, tilting his head from side to side, trying to get the collar to ease off his neck. "Couldn't breathe," he said, irritably. "At all. If I try anything I'm pretty sure it'll strangle me unconscious."

Padme winced a little, slender fingers testing the raw areas around Anakin's neck. "Is there anything I should look for in a clasp?"
Unlike the Rajah's restraining collar, this one seemed almost completely smooth and irrevocably attached.

He stilled a bit at the feeling of her fingers against his skin, let his head drop a little. "I don't know," he said finally, uncertain. "I've never encountered one of these before, only heard about them."

"Obi-Wan knows where we are." Of this, Padme had a serene certainty. "We just have to make sure nothing happens to anyone until he gets here."

"That should not be an issue," said a new voice, quietly, from the doorway. The speaker was a well-muscled humanoid of dark complexion but very pale, short hair. His eyes were entirely black, no white to be seen, and there was an ugly burn scar across one side of his face. "You and the slave children will not be hurt."
Rin's face didn't change, but he shifted a little closer to Padme. Anakin's own expression had gone peacefully blank.

AraiYasha: (Anakin is pissed.)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin is about three beats from risking the strangling to kill.)
AraiYasha: (Mm-hm.)

Padme had one hand resting gently upon Anakin's shoulder; the other arm she looped around Rin. "And what of the Padawans?"
Most women would have trembled or cowered before such an unsettling individual, those dead black eyes in particular, but this slave-girl was made of sterner stuff.
She looked the Hata right in the face.

The Hata did not seem particularly concerned, nor was he gleeful, nor angry. He only looked at her, and answered her question with a quiet-voiced honesty. "I will take their braids," he said, and nodded momentarily to Anakin, "And the elder will die. I have not made up my mind as to the younger."
"You won't touch him," Anakin said, quietly, emotionless. There was a calm to him that was almost frightening. "Nor any of the others."
For his words he recieved a mildly curious look, not distainful, only wondering. "You wish to make this difficult?"
"Always." Anakin smiled without humor, and rose to his feet carefully, without the aid of hands. The only sign of the rage that had overtaken him was the tight clenching of his fists behind his back, white-knuckled.

Padme responded to Anakin's rage with a soft, "Please don't test your collar, Anakin." She reached and touched his fists, willing all the tension in them, in him, to subside.
I don't want you to get hurt again, and that collar might just kill you.
There was still time between now and the landing to think of what could be done.

He glanced at her, momentarily, and for a moment the look in his blue eyes was alien and unrecognizeable. "I won't let him hurt you," he replied, fingers still tight beneath her hands. "Or the children."
The Hata inclined his head. "I said they would not be harmed," he replied, reasonably enough. "Harming them would be unnecessary, unless it became necessary to make you behave-" And here he stopped himself, and swiftly produced a small remote, for Anakin was advancing steadily. "There is this, of course," he added, and pressed the button, and Anakin dropped immediately to his knees, gagging for air.
Without so much as a flicker of expression the Hata looked to Padme, while Anakin writhed between them, fighting to breathe. "It is reasonable enough that he's angry," he said, "But please do tell him that the only reason I have not killed him yet is that I would prefer to avoid doing so in front of the smaller children. That can change, easily."

"I think he can hear you," said Padme tightly. She moved towards Anakin nevertheless and hugged him, held the desperate boy close to her body in much the same way he'd held and protected her in the snow. "Would you please release him now?"

"Mm," said the Hata agreeably, and released the button; Anakin slumped against Padme, breath rattling painfully in his throat, eyes nearly rolled back in his head, muttering weak threats of violence but seemingly unable to get his limbs to respond again, and after a moment he simply went limp, the effort apparently too much for him.
The Hata went on as though nothing had happened. "We'll be touching down on Tatooine within a few minutes," he said, "And at that time I'll expect you all to behave. This remote also contains a universal link override." He was still addressing Padme, in that odd and reasonable voice. "I can detonate your linkers if I choose to do so. Please do not give me a reason."
At Padme's back Rin made an angry little sound, but he had clearly learned from Anakin's mistake, and did not move.

She nodded. "Understood. What is your name?"

"I am Anisavya Naraka," he replied, and bobbed his head to her momentarily, easily respectful.

"And you're a member of the apa-Hata." Padme brushed Anakin's hair soothingly, concerned about the drawn paleness of his face. "What will you do with the slave children on Tatooine?"
She had a good idea what their fate would be, but she required confirmation from Naraka.

Anakin stirred only slightly now, head tilting into her hand as though drawn like a magnet; his breathing was ugly and harsh.
Naraka said, "That is entirely up to my employer. I have not asked him his business. He does not ask mine."

"Ah. Thank you." Padme stroked the boy's face softly. "And myself?"

"That is also something I have yet to decide," he said evenly. "There is a considerable bounty on your head, Padme Amidala, but it concerns people my kind refuse to deal with, for the most part, and there is no other place that it would be reasonable to resell you as a slave. And I have no desire to kill you needlessly."

That shocked her. "...A bounty?"
The other questions of Why? and For how long? echoed in her eyes.

"Yes," Naraka said, and lifted his shoulders in a momentary shrug. "Do not ask me anything further about it, I have no answers."
At that moment there was a bump, and a careful settling, and the engine shut off as the autopilot landed them neatly on the ground. The Hata sighed. "Well," he said, "The time has come to take care of this issue." By that, he clearly meant Anakin, for he moved forward as though to take the boy from Padme. "If you'll release him, please-" And here he held up the remote in indication, "-I will avoid detonating one of the children." Clearly he was not a man who made room for bargaining or refusal.

Padme made no move to stop him, only put her lips to Anakin's ear and whispered, "Don't resist, just keep your eyes open and be mindful. You're back on your home planet now."

(:D That's not entirely Padme that's talking to him.)
Yoinomyoujou: (...Oho? :D)
AraiYasha: (XD Yep. The Master is watching.)

Anakin made a fuzzy sound of incomprehension, brow furrowing slightly- his eyes opened for a moment and fixed on her face, even as Naraka's hand closed around the collar of his tunic and pulled him upright. His legs didn't yet seem to want to work properly, but that didn't matter, for the Hata seemed perfectly content to half carry, half drag him down the ramp and into the blinding desert beyond. Tatooine stretched in all directions, and Naraka let Anakin drop to his knees in the sand, out of sight of Padme and the children. He withdrew a vibroblade from his belt and knelt, taking the boy by the hair and pulling his head back, pressing the unlit hilt to his throat.
"Be still," he murmured in the young Jedi's ear, "And the pain will pass quickly. The others will not be harmed. Be at peace."
Anakin let his breath out in a dazed hiss, replied softly: "I have never known peace in this life."
"Then," Naraka said, almost gently, "You will find it in death."

"Or perhaps /you/ will," garbled a voice unused to speaking Basic. The heady buzz of blaster rifles clicked and split the air. "This is /our/ landing field, go put your flying crate somewhere else."
The tentacled beings had no objection to the proposed murder of the boy.

(Whee, Tatooine.)
Yoinomyoujou: (HAHA EXCELLENT.)
AraiYasha: (SMUGGLERS AND BANDITS, BABY)

The apaHata eyed the newcomers with mild curiousity, still gripping Anakin tightly by the hair. He was not stupid, nor was he sucidial, and he had no sense of pride to lose by backing down. He tucked the vibroblade back against his belt and removed a tiny nerve scrambler instead, which he set to the underside of Anakin's jaw and depressed. The Padawan made a small strained noise and went limp again.
"Apologies," Naraka said quietly, hefting the unconscious boy over one shoulder without apparent effort, despite his height. "I will move immediately."

The squat and fat tentacled beings snorted with derision, keeing their armaments pointed upon Naraka. "You catch yourself a Jedi? We take."
That pricey braid symbolized spoils that were not to be sneezed at.

Another moment of consideration at this statement. Death would not be beneficial, and he remained outnumbered- there was, as well, the Padawan who remained on the ship. Two braids were more than one, of course, but one braid was better than losing everything.
Naraka unshouldered the boy, let him drop in a limp heap into the sand again. "Very well," he said, and nodded once, stepping backwards. "Take him. I will be on my way."

The bulbous things burbled with flatulence and prodded him back towards his ship with their weaponry. "Go. Go."
Yoinomyoujou: Hands raised to show his compliance, the Hata bobbed his head and turned back for his ship, clicking a small mechanism on his belt as he did so. It was rare that it was necessary, but the energy shield attached to the back of his belt would guard against any stray blaster fire from behind.

It wasn't necessary this time; the creatures quickly swarmed over their prize and shoved it in a nearby pit.

AraiYasha: (*L* Ani goes thunk.)
Yoinomyoujou: (*LOL* Oh god, what are they going to do to him?! TENTACLE RAPE AAA)
AraiYasha: (No, he's too ugly.)
AraiYasha: (XD)
Yoinomyoujou: (ROFL excellent. OH I LOVE OTHER SPECIES' STANDARDS)
AraiYasha: (PEOPLE KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT THEM)

The suns were setting by the time Naraka returned to the ship, though from the inside that was hard to tell. Rin had curled up at Padme's side, trying to be of as much comfort as he could be, under the circumstances, though one got the impression that he needed that comfort as much as she did. He'd spoken to her softly of his Master, Huang Ky, the Dorran shapeshifter, who was stern but loving, and now he was leaned against her shoulder, half dozing, exhausted by his own ordeal.
The entranceway slid open again, and Naraka entered, without children or Anakin, and began in silence to gather up the shackles that lay strewn about.

Padme rubbed the young Padawan's back, as grateful for his presence as he was for hers, inviting him to sleep fully if he needed to. She watched Naraka's movements in silence.

"It would probably be easiest to kill you," Naraka said, after a moment, while Rin slept against Padme's side, one arm linked lightly around hers. The Hata paused, and lifted his head to look at her. "I intend to kill the boy." He spoke of his actions as though he were listing off supplies he intended to buy from a grocer, things unimportant, as though the blood of Anakin Skywalker was not on his hands.

Padme Amidala's expression did not change. "Both at once?"

"Possibly. Would you prefer it that way?" he replied, blinking those strange black eyes at her. "Mercy makes little sense to me, I will confess, but I know that most people seem to have a problem with children dying- I can kill the boy quickly, if that's what you want."

"What other option were you considering before you decided that he should die?" Her tone held no expectation that the apaHata would change his mind; she was just curious.
Rin's hair was soft against her hand, soft like another boy's had been, long ago.

"He could easily be sold." Naraka began to link the binders together, neatly, meticulous. "But I have decided that I want his braid instead. Once a Padawan's braid is taken there is no reason to leave him alive."

"Why?"
Padme noticed, almost half aware, that the number of braids upon Naraka's shoulder had not changed from before he had taken the older Padawan out of the ship and returned without him. Where was Anakin's?

His answer was a simple shrug. "One less Jedi in the galaxy."
There were, indeed, still only the four, no thin coil of dark blond laced with blue, though they remained gruesome promise of what seemed to be Rin's future.

"What purpose does that serve? The Jedi are civil servants. They protect those who can't protect themselves."
Padme doubted, despite the high price of a Padawan braid on the black market, that Naraka would have given up the long plait of an older Jedi trainee; the older they were, the more difficult to catch, the more honor.
She began to feel better. No less angry. But better.

Another shrug. "It is simply the way of things," Naraka replied indifferently, and turned to face her again. "If you could answer my previous question, please."
Rin, for his part, slept on.

"I would prefer to go with him. I have a problem with children dying alone."

"As you wish." The Hata produced the nerve scrambler. "This can also be utilized to minimize pain."

"I will not require its use." Padme stroked the sleeping boy's back, once. And then again. "Where did you take the other children?"

"To my employer." Naraka knelt, touched the scramble to Rin's pulse and pressed the button lightly. The boy shuddered once and was still again, and he tucked the scrambler away again, and rose. "If you would be so good as to carry him, please. We are going outside."

Padme silently and carefully picked up the unconscious Padawan and settled his head against her shoulder, moving to be marched out by the logical murderer.
The boy's feet swung gently against her side, tapping.

The desert air was cooler than one might have thought- in fact it was almost crisp. Naraka had this time opted simply for a blaster, seeing as there was two at once to deal with, and as they stepped off the ramp he surveyed the surrounding scenery for approaching trouble.
Not quickly enough.
"Move," said the soft female voice in his ear, the barrel of a slim blaster of her own pressed to his jaw, "And I will blow your face off. Drop the weapon."
The weapon left his hands immediately to hit the sand.
Sabé's dark eyes glinted at Padmé over his shoulder. "All in once piece?" she asked tightly, then added, "What've you found, Sister?"

Padme held Rin close and safe, only stepping forward to divest Naraka of the remote that operated both linkers and collars as well as the nerve scrambler. Then she stepped back, out of the captive apaHata's reach. He killed Jedi for a living. It was doubtful he'd allow himself to remain captive for long. "We had Ruwee, Ficha, and Loolee for a little while, but he decided to sell them to an as-of-yet unnamed employer." The look on her face said that the employer would not remain unnamed for long. The control upon her voice was harsh, intense far beyond what it had been when she was the Queen of a threatened planet demanding satisfaction from a deadlocked Senate. "I'm not sure what happened to Anakin. The apaHata doesn't have his Padawan braid."
"I should hope not, as it's still attached to his living head." A deathly serene Jedi waited in the shadows, arms crossed. "Thank you, Ambassador, for reacting so quickly. You left a good trail." His eyes flicked over the red-woven braid in the young boy's hair without comment.
Padme Amidala took the cue and walked behind the Jedi, across the dunes and towards the waiting spacecraft.
"Hello, Naraka. Fancy meeting you again."

The Hata's eyes fixed on the stern figure of the Jedi, and then, for the first time, a smile touched his lips, genuine and almost warm, were it not for the cold detachement in his eyes. "Kenobi," he exclaimed, with great interest. "I thought it was you, but I couldn't be sure. You've grown."
Sabe only waited in silence, without moving- her posture indicated that she could wait as such for a long, long time.

The Jedi walked down the dune. His voice was pleasant. "Who did you sell the children to, Naraka?"

"I cannot tell you that," Naraka replied easily, just as pleasant as Obi-Wan was. "And it will not be tortured out of me, either."

"And reading your mind will be difficult, I imagine." Obi-Wan seemed to ponder this as one would a particularly intriguing puzzle over a tasty afternoon luncheon. "Would they still be where you parted with them?"

"It's entirely possible." Naraka was still smiling at him, despite the barrel of Sabe's angry blaster pressing into his flesh. "I have no way of knowing. Are you going to kill me, or extract your revenge for your Padawan's suffering, first?"

Obi-Wan smiled, walking forward until he looked Naraka directly in the eye. "Revenge is not the way of the Jedi."
A shining loop of constricting metal fell over Naraka's ears and tightened itself around his neck. Obi-Wan's smile did not change.
"But you will take us to the children."

"Ah," said the Hata, easily. "By force. I see." It was impossible to tell what he thought of this, one way or the other.
AraiYasha: "Mm. By hook or by crook, as they say. Once the children are in our possession, I will remove the collar." He inclined his head almost respectfully to the Hata. "Then we may conclude our business."
Now the issue of quarters would have to be addressed, and something done with Naraka's ship.

AraiYasha: (A note: Obi-Wan could take Naraka's collection of Padawan braids right now. But he won't.)
Yoinomyoujou: (Mmhm, I had noticed.)
AraiYasha: (That only happens after a fair duel.)

"Then I would suggest that we do so in the morning." Perfectly reasonable words. "My employer will not be inclined to be helpful at this hour." The idea of resisting his capture or bringing violence here simply did not seem to have occured to him.
Sabe glanced at Obi-Wan, raising her eyebrows.

"Very well." Obi-Wan turned to Sabe. "If I may request the services of Artoo tonight, I'd appreciate his help in rewiring Naraka's holding cell- unless you have a similar space upon your ship?"

"Can't say that we do- take him, he's yours." Sabe eyed the Jedi Hunter for a moment, then withdrew her blaster. Naraka only stood there, quietly bound by his own honor. "Frankly I'd rather spend the evening getting that dammed linker out of Padme's neck."

"Mm. I'd appreciate it if someone would remove Anakin's as well." If Obi-Wan seemed disgusted that he would have to spend his time guarding his Padawan's kidnapper and would-be murderer instead of protecting and soothing the boy as the final binding of slavery was removed from his person... He hid it well. "Those gadgets are far more trouble than they're worth."

(Just a thought- I think Rabe and Eirtae got Corde out of the tank somehow... They might have caught a ride with Hurdn.)
Yoinomyoujou: (! Oh, excellent, I was wondering about that- I'm fairly sure Huang Ky would have allowed that to go down, in any case...)

Sabe's eyes flicked to him again; she said, "I'll watch him," matter-of-factly. "Look after your apprentice. He'll need the comfort more than Padme does, at this point." Not that she felt that Padme didn't need the attention, but she also knew that her friend was not nearly so emotionally dependent as young Anakin seemed to be.

Obi-Wan nodded in reply and moved swiftly but gracefully back to the Naboo cruiser. He could feel Anakin's consciousness stiring; the Ambassador must've de-scrambled the boy already.
The second Padawan, too.
Council would have to be informed of this; the reassurance of a found Padawan could not be relayed quickly enough.

Anakin was terribly confused at first- his initial thought upon waking was the blurred equivalent of Am I dead? followed by the tentative reach for Obi-Wan as his head cleared a little. The other Padawan's presence was much softer than Anakin's blaze of fire, something a little closer to water and earth, quietly shy.

Obi-Wan's returning, reassuring touch came to Anakin at almost the exact time as Padme Amidala's arms. She was very happy that he was alive and well. Joyous.
The happiness mingled with the serene protection like a cascade of water and light combined.

Despite the fuzziness of his mind Anakin worked his arms around Padme and hugged her in return, suddenly, fiercely happy, surrounded here by his beloved teacher and the woman he couldn't seem to tear his emotions away from. "Sorry," he said in Padme's ear, though he was grinning tremendously, even though his knees were still a bit weak. "It's okay now."
To Obi-Wan he said, And this time it wasn't even my /fault/.

I told you not to move too far away from the others.
But the admonishment was mostly joking, and Obi-Wan smiled fondly at the scene he found inside the Naboo craft, so relieved he remained unbothered by the hug. This time you nearly gave the /Ambassador/ a heart attack, and me with her. Shame, shame, Anakin.
Said ambassador grinned at Anakin, squeezed him one last time just because, and carefully dislodged herself from the embrace. "Master Kenobi, I'd like you to meet Rin." She gestured kindly to the younger boy who waited so shyly nearby. "He's Master Huang Ky's Padawan."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "Huang Ky the shapeshifter?"
"Mm-hm." Padme nodded. "You do what you have to- I'm going to fix us something to eat." It went without saying that being held captive did not afford good meals.
The first thing Obi-Wan Kenobi did once she was gone was sit beside Anakin's bed and stroke his forehead. Feeling better, my Padawan?
The very next thing he would do after a positive reply would be to inform the Jedi Council that Huang Ky's Padawan had been found.

Rin bowed politely to Obi-Wan, tugged on his braid self-consciously, and murmured somehing about going to help before trotting after Padme, apparently not wanting to waste time idly.
Anakin huffed and straightened up where he sat, giving Obi-Wan a crooked smile. "Better now that I can breathe," he said, "And I know I'm not dead. And neither is Rin- I guess it was a stroke of good luck we got captured, after all."

Obi-Wan smiled after Rin momentarily, helping Anakin sit up even though he knew the young man could do it on his own. "Everything happens through the will of the Force. Sabe caught the Hata just in time." He sighed, presence settling around Anakin like a tranquil blanket. Serious and tranquil. "Sabe wishes for the Ambassador's linker to be removed, and I want the same for you. It's too dangerous to have them."

A part of him wanted to protest that, to say that it could still be useful, still be necessary, something important, but the rest of him, the part of him that had wept beyond his control at the reinstation of such a thing, cried out for that release. He glanced at his Master, and said quietly, "Do you have a vibroblade on you?"

"No." Obi-Wan put an arm around his Padawan, careful not to bump the bruises garnered when the strange beings had so carelessly dumped him into that rocky hole. Removing him from their possession had been... interesting. "We'll use the medical droid this time, Anakin. No vibroblade."

Anakin squinted at him good-naturedly through one blackened eye. "Fair enough," he said, "If you want to tell me how I ended up feeling like I was dropped off a cliff."

Obi-Wan returned the look point-blank. "Because you were."

"...When?" Anakin demanded. "I don't remember a thing!"

"I'm assuming the unknown species of alien dropped you in their fodder pit after they somehow managed to disentangle you from the clutches of Naraka." Obi-Wan looked wry. "Judging by their numbers, they surrounded him."

"Unknown alien species?" Anakin repeated, expression growing into one of mild distress. "What- how did you even find me?"

Now Obi-Wan looked unsettled. "The Ambassador became very distressed when Naraka marched you off the ship." Obviously, the distress had been shared.

He looked as though he wanted to question further- as to how his Master had managed to retrieve him unconscious from an alien fodder pit- but Obi-Wan's expression made him pause, and instead he glanced in the direction that Padme had disappeared with Rin in tow, and simply put his cheek against Obi-Wan's shoulder, letting out his breath in a sharp huff. "Well," he said, evenly, "It's over now. Nobody died."

"Mm, nobody died." Obi-Wan patted his Padawan's head. "We yet must seek out the other three children you discovered upon Hoth, but that is a task that must wait 'til tomorrow, I'm afraid."

Anakin straightened up again, gave Obi-Wan a faintly self-depricating smile. "It's your turn to fall into trouble, I think. You're overdue."
The med droid hummed up gracefully in front of Obi-Wan and sat, waiting in silence for the next order.

The older Jedi motioned for Anakin to turn his back towards the droid; it did need to able to reach the linker, after all.

The boy sighed, and turned as he was bid, squinting his eyes shut in anticipation. The first one had hurt incredibly, coming out. He was quite sure this one would be no different.
"Where, sir?" said the droid in its calm monotone, lifting tiny delicate instrument-tipped hands and addressing Obi-Wan. "You wish for the foreign object to be removed, yes?"

"Yes, please- it's made of sensitive material, so be careful."
Obi-Wan placed a hand reassuringly on top of Anakin's, remembering the aghast horror of finding the boy Anakin bleeding all over the floor from the vetical gash on his arm the first time. He'd removed the small ball of death quickly and alone, without the supervision of either his Master or a medical droid. This time would be different. I'm here, my Padawan.

The droid hummed agreement and set a thin razor instrument to the nape of Anakin's neck. The boy didn't move, at first, but then very suddenly his hand moved, fingers lacing through Obi-Wan's tightly. He made a small hissing sound as blood welled up around the cut, stiffening as tiny tweezers went into the wound, seeking the linker. Though outwardly he was still and mostly silent save that one sound, on the inside it was clear that the silence and stillness was a great effort.

Through it all, Obi-Wan was there. He squeezed Anakin's hand in reply and washed him with comfort for every second the tiny forceps had to move the boy's living flesh back and forth in search of that elusive little ball of metal.

Anakin refused to cry out, even as the delicate instruments clasped around the linker and began to pull it free, which brought a new well of blood to the surface. He only shuddered, once, and that was only when the tweezers had come free and the linker was safely in the med droid's tray. A breath escaped him slowly, and he relaxed his deathgrip on Obi-Wan's hand. "...."

Obi-Wan did not stretch his fingers free of the Anakin's yet; instead he patted their interlocked hands once and began to gently mop up the blood with his free hand.
"Very good, Anakin. Now let's get this cleaned and dressed."

The medical droid pressed bandages and ointments into Obi-Wan's hands matter of factly, and scooted back out of the way, to allow Master to attend to student, as was natural.
Anakin said, after a moment of silence: "Padme was upset because she thought I was dead?"

Obi-Wan frowned, not only at his Padawan's interest in Padme (as was usual), but at the memory itself. "Yes. Very."
Whatever had happened in the eight years since to change the stern, fourteen-year-old Queen into a person capable of focus intense enough to leave a mental trail for a Jedi to follow as well as an emotional cloud marking the last place his Padawan had been, it must have been extreme.

"It must have been awfully strong," Anakin continued, clearly trying to be casual but unable to entirely conceal the pleasure the thought gave him. "Her feelings about it, I mean. If you were able to follow her by it."

Obi-Wan poked his Padawan in an unbruised section of his ribs. "Yes, it was, but she'd already managed to communicate with me before then." He continued wrapping the wound. "Don't let it go to your head, Anakin."

Anakin glanced at him momentarily, a hint of his customary defiant grin on his lips. "Well, she is fond of me, Master, you can't deny that," he said brightly. "She hugged me." The words were a quiet rush of warmth.

Anakin's Master sighed. "I imagine she was happy to have at least one child returned."

That particular word choice was enough to effectively stick a pin in the balloon of Anakin's elation. His shoulders slumped quite suddenly, and he lowered his head again, smile fading. "...I'm not a child," he muttered irritably, brow furrowed. "I'm practically old enough to test for Knighthood-"

Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *I AM NOT A CHILD* *IS*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *YOU ARE REACTING CHILDISHLY*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *I CAN'T HELP IT, I JUST SDFsdfdhf EMOTIONS!!!!*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *CONTROL YOUR EMOTIONS!*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *I'M /TRYING/*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: */GOOD/*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *BUT YOU'RE NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *What do you want from me?! I'm doing my best, do you think I'm doing this just to spite you?!*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *Some days, I almost DO!* *But I know that you do not.* :/ *...I worry about you, Anakin*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *You worry too much*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *Can you blame me?*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *.....*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *Well?*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: */........../* *doing that stubborn chin thing*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *.............* *oh, this again*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Anakin: *meh*)

"-'Practically' is not the same as actually ready, my Padawan." Obi-Wan smoothed the last of the bandages taut against Anakin's raw neck and began applying more ointment to the places the restraining collar had torn. Anakin's neck was ringed with angry red, a sight upsetting to any doting Master. "You still have much to work on before you're ready for the Trials- they're not as easy as you think."

There was the slightest of tension to Anakin's broad shoulders, but his head remained bowed. "But I'm almost old enough," he said, evenly, not quite sullen but approaching that. "Not a child. I've had my own lightsaber for three years now, I'm strong, I keep up with you just fine."

"Mm." Obi-Wan continued to pat the slightly inflamed collar-mark around Anakin's neck with salve that both felt and smelled of cool places. "But I would rather you not have to take your Trials twice, as I did." Here the Master smiled ruefully, reminded of old memories, old mentalities, times when he bravely rushed into danger without a first thought. Or a second, even. "...I learned the most I ever had as a Padawan after failing the first, but the experience was still very embarrassing."

AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan adds, "And I wasn't as prideful as you are.")
Yoinomyoujou: (Qui-Gon: *Oh no?*)
AraiYasha: (Obi-Wan: *I maintain that I had a lot less of pride than just simple idiocy*)
Yoinomyoujou: (Qui-Gon: *n_n Ah, fair enough*)

Anakin blinked, and twisted beneath his hands to look at him, irritation momentarily forgotten. "You failed your Trials?" he said, disbelieving. "How old were you?"

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his oozy fingers together in wry self-deprecation. "Two years older than you are now, and firmly determined to become 'the greatest Jedi Knight of the age.'" He chuckled a little at the old headstrong boy he'd been. "It didn't quite work out the way I'd planned."

"I remember your Trial," Anakin said, eyeing him. "You fainted after you came out."

"That was the second one." Obi-Wan resumed plastering the cooling ointment upon Anakin's neck, lifting his chin up for better access. "I was completely comatose for a week after the first."

The words seemed to somber the boy, who lifted his chin obediently at Obi-Wan's physical prompting. "...Was Qui-Gon upset?" he asked, after a moment, speaking the name cautiously, as he always did. He could never truly be certain when and where it was all right to mention the Jedi Master, aware that the name and the memory were painful.

He needn't have worried; Obi-Wan was already thinking of his beloved, departed Master. But the memory, though he did not show it, of waking up in bed with the knowledge I failed ringing in his head only to see his quiet Master sitting silently beside...
"He was disappointed."
Obi-Wan finished with the salve and started rubbing his hands clean.

Anakin's expression had grown from cautious curiousity and into quiet sympathy- Obi-Wan spoke few words on topics that caused him hurt, was not the sort of man, unlike Anakin, who attempted to use his words to navigate his way out of a maze of pain.
He said, "You weren't a child, either."

Obi-Wan held up one finger. "But I acted like one."

Sympathy twisted into irritation again. "We're not the same."

Here Obi-Wan smiled. "Maybe not, but I am glad of my Padawan's company. I'll certainly miss him when he becomes a Knight."

It was not always easy to defuse Anakin's considerable temper with love or kindness or even a combination of the two- he took offenses easily and had a tendency to nurse hurt feelings carefully. However, voicing the fact that he was cared for, would be missed, was something positive in Obi-Wan's life eased a little of the anger, though it did not quite leave. Anakin did not reply, only eyed him speculatively, as he often had when he was younger and was trying to come to a decision concerning his soft-spoken Master.

Obi-Wan continued wiping his hands down; the healing salve was almost as resiliently attracted to the skin as that blasted body paint. "I can only hope I'll give him the skills to succeed where I failed."
To become the great Jedi I never became.

"You're not a failure." A sharp and almost defensive tone, there. Anakin's eyes had darkened with displeasure. "You haven't failed anything."

A small shrug here, a waving away of old memories, and Obi-Wan finished cleaning his hands enough to fondly touch Anakin on the shoulder. His smile of pride could have relit suns and enlivened dying stars.
"Not with you."

(GAAAH)
Yoinomyoujou: (*LOL* ANAKIN HAS ALMOST THE EXACT SAME REACTION)
AraiYasha: (*LOL* OH GOD)
AraiYasha: ("I haven't failed anything with you, Anakin!"
"GOR!")
Yoinomyoujou: (ROFL SDsfg)
AraiYasha: (:D You're welcome.)

Anakin did the only thing he could think of, the only thing that made sense to him. He leaned forward and embraced his teacher tightly, fiercely, murmuring low and angry in his ear, "You didn't fail him, either. He loved you. He was proud of you, Master, more than you know-"

Obi-Wan stilled at the forbidden word. But he welcomed his Padawan's embrace wholeheartedly.
In silence.

"Please don't sell yourself short," Anakin said, upset now, aware that he'd crossed some line but not willing to turn back just yet. "He wouldn't want that. It'd break his heart as much as it breaks mine."

Obi-Wan patted his Padawan's back, voice soft and calm as always when speaking to him or comforting him, but strangely still in this moment. "Thank you, Anakin."

(Here we witness two things: Obi-Wan's complete acceptance of Anakin, and his complete refusal to discuss the topic of Qui-Gon Jinn.)
Yoinomyoujou: (Oh maaan, and it makes Anakin so angry, because it's a strange and unspoken thing, and unspoken things distress him so much...)

"Please don't do this," Anakin said softly, tempestuous emotions moving in an entirely different direction now. His was distress, and hurt, and sudden, unburied frustration. His thoughts held no direct center, only a constant flow of feeling. Don't shut this out, don't turn yourself off, you deserve more, you deserve better, I'm sorry, I want to help you, I hate it when you do this...

Obi-Wan Kenobi squeezed his Padawan one last time and patted his head... Then stood up. "Get some rest, Anakin." His voice was kind. "I have to inform the Council that Huang Ky's Padawan is safe."

"Master." Anakin looked at him, jaw tight, with that hurt still in his eyes. "Please."
It was all he said. It was all he seemed capable of.

His Master smiled at him. "The Ambassador seems to have prepared something delicious, if the smell is any indication. Eat and rest, Anakin. You've had a grueling day."
Obi-Wan ducked out of sight, his fluid grace silent testament to careful years of Jedi training. There was business to be taken care of.

"...I really hate you sometimes, Obi-Wan," Anakin muttered half-heartedly under his breath. The words held no truth and no bite- at least, not with Obi-Wan's name in conjunction. He rubbed his face with one hand, carefully scrubbing away any trace of tears, and got to his feet, testing his bruised limbs. Aside from the black eye there were a few cuts and bumps that ached, pulled muscles he didn't remember pulling, but they would heal, soon enough.
He remembered one thing.
They were on Tatooine.
It had only just occured to him what else was here, on Tatooine, and suddenly a little of his anger and frustration lifted.
Mom, he thought, and allowed himself a small smile before he headed into the kitchen area to see what Rin and Padme had gotten up to.