| Should As Strangers We Meet |
| Obi-Wan, standing beside her, looking down with concerned affection was blasted both physically and mentally once Lord Xanatos had the energy field turned off. One moment Danni lay there still and silent, then the next she flailed wildly, screaming piercingly of death and demons. Grabbing onto her before she fell from the cart he pressed her close to him, holding her arms down to prevent her from hurting him or herself. "Shhhh, Danni, it's alright" he crooned softly, "I'm here jameela, I'm here." "I..c..c..couldn't....m..move," she sobbed uncontrollably, "c..couldn't fe..feel you..." Cradling her against his chest, Obi-Wan rocked her in his arms, sending comforting waves through the Force. "I know Danni...I know. But I'm here now." he gently told her. "Th...there were th..things in the d..dark...evil th..things" her body quivered violently with distress. "No Danni, that was only an illusion of your fear," he assured with calm persuasion. Looking up at him, double trails of tears running down her face, soaking his shirt, she gazed deeply into his oft changing eyes. You're safe now, jameela, she heard over their bond as he flooded it with love and understanding. I know it was frightening, but it's over. As she accepted the comfort, her sobs became intermittent hiccups and her tears diminished, though her hold on Obi-Wan didn't loosen. Standing back, watching the heartwarming scene, a look of distaste on his face, Xanatos filed away the valuable information it provided. There was no greater weakness in the galaxy as that of love and Xanatos silently thanked the dark Force that Obi-Wan's had been so readily delivered to him. Love was an emotion that could bring out the worst in a person as much as their best. It had been his own master's greatest downfall, easily blinding him to the true nature of his Padawan learner. Qui-Gon had been all too willing to believe whatever excuse he had put forth during the numerous fights and accidents that occurred with his apprentice's antagonists during their years together. The Jedi Master's own over-blown pride prevented him from listening to those who spoke out against his perfect apprentice. It had been so simple to manipulate the man. He had been so confident, so self-sure in his belief that when the final axe had fallen, the look of incredulous hurt and betrayal on Qui-Gon's face had more than made up for his excruciating years of service to the naive and gullible Jedi Master. A dark smile crept onto Xanatos' face at the memory of that sweet, malicious victory. And now look, he thought, see what fate rewards the patient. Not only had he been granted the useful gift a of young, vulnerable, failed Jedi. One who was already treading the fine line between the light and dark side of the Force. But also a miraculous second chance to visit on this Qui-Gon all the torments he had envisioned applying to his own master, those that had been lost with the man's unfortunately all too swift death. Xanatos felt a thrill run through him at the prospect of the work ahead on both fronts. These would be tasks of immense pleasure and enlightenment. Adjusting his game face, Xanatos adopted a look of quiet concern as he stepped beside the cooing lovebirds. "I'm so very sorry for your pain, my dear," he addressed Danni. "I'm afraid that I'm to blame for your present condition," Xanatos said sorrowfully. Whipping her head around at the unfamiliar voice, Danni's eyes narrowed, "Wh..who are you?" she asked. "This is Lord Xanatos DeCrion of Telos, it was his ship that attacked us," Obi-Wan explained calmly. Playing his part well, Xanatos hung his head in shame. "Yes, I can't begin to apologize for the distress I caused you. I had no idea who else might be on board," he grieved humbly. "Please allow me to make amends." Raising his head to reveal his mournful expression, he motioned for a hover-chair. "Take them to their room," he commanded to the med tech, "and see that they're shown every hospitality." Turning back to the pair, "Let me give you time to recover and talk," he suggested. "I'll be by in the morning. If there's anything you should desire, please don't hesitate to ask." Danni looked questioningly at Obi, who only nodded in agreement and carried her to the chair. How could he act so casual to this man after what he'd done? "I'll explain," he whispered to her as he followed the med tech to the door. "Thank you," he said politely to Xanatos before exiting the room. Xanatos stood there a moment, a wide grin on his face. Now, he thought, time to begin. Then he also left the room, heading the opposite direction in a jaunty stride. He began to whistle merrily as he entered the room of his third prisoner. Xanatos entered the room, a genuinely pleased smile on his face. The med tech in charge, bent over the still unconscious figure on the table, cringed at the sight of that smile. In his many years of service to the Lord of Telos, he had learned to interpret the man's few changing moods and of all the emotions he feared most to see was the one of calm, good cheer. It always signified some dark purpose and usually included a great deal of pain for some poor suspecting fool who'd managed to incur the Lord's wrath. Looking down at the large, still form on the table, the med tech offered a sympathetic thought, quickly followed by silent thanks that he himself was not the object of Xanatos attention. "Has all been made ready?" Xanatos asked. "Yes, M'lord. His injuries have been healed," The man remarked, removing the lightweight cover that draped the Jedi's bare, muscular chest. Though a slight, pinkish discoloration remained, the previously blistering wound had all but disappeared. "Excellent. There should be nothing to distract him from the business at hand," Xanatos declared placidly. "I want there to be no doubt where his misery comes from." The med tech hurriedly looked down, a shiver passing through him at the serene tone of Xanatos statement, as though the man was discussing nothing more than a simple dinner menu, not the planned torture of an individual. Moving a small stool beside the table, Xanatos took a seat that brought him almost eye-level with the Jedi. "Wake him," he commanded. Uncapping a syringe, the med tech reached for the IV line that ran down to the man's antecubital space. Plunging the needle into the auxiliary port, he slowly injected a viscous fluid that would counteract the drug used to keep the man unconscious. After waiting a full two minutes, Xanatos leaned into the Jedi's ear. "I know you're awake Master," he whispered. Opening his eyes, Qui-Gon scanned the room around him, ignoring Xanatos. "What? No greeting for your old apprentice? And after so very long?" Xanatos raised his hand to his heart, "I am truly hurt." Wordlessly, Qui-Gon reached into the Force, testing the bonds that held him. Unsurprised that his link to it was severely hindered, he attempted to use brute strength to free himself but found that sorely insufficient. "Paristeel Force binders," Xanatos offered upon noting the Jedi Master's struggles. Temporarily surrendering to his fate, Qui-Gon turned toward the younger man. "What have you done with Obi-Wan and Danian?" his tone threatening. Xanatos couldn't help but let a short, derisive laugh escape him. Here the Jedi was, subdued and helpless, totally at the mercy of another, yet arrogantly demanding answers of him as though he were the one in charge. "I've made your companions quite comfortable. It seemed the least I could do seeing how they brought you to me so neatly trussed up." Xanatos reminded the Jedi of Obi-Wan's last actions. Pursing his lips in agitation, Qui-Gon recalled how the young man had shot and restrained him. He seemed to remember an injection of some type, but after that his memory was hazy and incomplete. "What do you want Xanatos?" he asked plainly. "Why to talk of course," Xanatos replied with a grieved look, "it's not everyday one gets the opportunity to converse with a double from another dimension." Xanatos watched the elder man's face closely, impressed by the way his expression remained unchanged. "And you came up with that fanciful idea how?" Qui-Gon asked, unfazed. "Always the proper Jedi," Xanatos chuckled aloud. He knew a flat out denial could easily be interpreted as a lie. "But then you always knew how to get around the truth when it served your own purpose, didn't you?" Xanatos commented wryly. "Again, what is it you want?" Qui-Gon's voice projected extreme annoyance. Xanatos' eyes flared at the Jedi's impertinence. Just who in the seven hells did he think he was dealing with? Rage erupting with a mad scowl, Xanatos stood. Igniting his lightsaber, a crimson blur flashed to the restrained Jedi's neck. At the last moment its light blinked out, only a hair's breath away from its lethal caress. "Two can play at that game," Xanatos' face leveled to one of passivity. He wasn't about to relinquish control of his emotions that easily. It was a tactic he had used often enough, goading one's opponent to a fit of passion. An angry man acted without thought, recklessly. A reckless man could be counted on to make a mistake. In a battle of wills, he would show the Jedi who was master. "Now," Xanatos regained his calm, "I want to know exactly how you came to be here." "You didn't say the magic word," Qui-Gon replied dryly. Anger flicked across Xanatos face again, but he shook it off with a slow shake of his head. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, it matters not to me. Either way I will get the answers," the dark lord imparted candidly. "I only give you a choice out of reverence for what my own master and I once shared." "Since when have you cared a whit about the man who trained and cared for you, raising you as his own?" Qui-Gon asked pointedly, full of accusations. "How dare you question my affections?" Xanatos outraged. "You're the one who turned your back on me. The precious Jedi Order was all you ever cherished. You never loved me, all you ever did was to try to mold me into a little clone, an extension of yourself. It was I who labored endlessly, trying to live up to the high ideals of the Jedi. All I ever wanted from you was to be accepted for what I was, to be loved for who I was, not for who you thought I should be." Xanatos voice lowered, his eyes clouded with the haze of past memory, staring through the man he spoke to. "Even after I discovered all that had been withheld from me by the Jedi Order, my identity, my birthright and the power and wealth that it held, who did I turn to? Who was it I begged to remain on Telos with me, continue to mentor me. I needed you then Master and what did you do? Rebuke and denounce me as a willing instrument of the dark side. And still I implored you not to abandon me, even after you killed my father." "Even that I would have forgiven you," his voice wavered with hurt indignation. "But in the end you made your choice," Xanatos eyes cleared, his voice grew bitter, "and it was I who was forsaken. Where was your almighty love then?" "What you did then and continue to do now is wrong Xanatos," Qui-Gon stated, surprised at the amount of distress he heard in the man's words. "You were a Jedi long enough to know the difference of good and evil. When you opted to follow your own dark desires, I was left with no choice but to stop you, regardless of my sentiments. It's my duty as a Jedi to uphold the tenets as a Guardian of Peace." "Arrgghh!" Xanatos groaned in disgust. "Guardian of Peace? Do you really believe as one man you make any difference at all in the grand scheme of things? Would it had been the end of the galaxy for the great Qui-Gon Jinn to seek recompense for all that had been deprived, payment for a lifetime of servitude?" "A Jedi seeks not the trappings of glory or material gain, nor are our actions dependent on reward or appreciation." Qui-Gon offered solemnly. "Don't hand me that tired, old poodoo" Xanatos hissed viciously, "it meant little to me then and nothing to me now!" "I had hoped to spare us unnecessary pain," all emotion drained from his face, his eyes darkened with hostile intent. “You’ve had your chance Jedi!” Xanatos intoned ominously, motioning for the med tech who had scurried to the far end of the room. “This will not be pleasant," Xanatos' voice held a quiet, remorseful tone. He had tried, knowing full well the chances that this Qui-Gon being any less the honor bound Jedi were as good as a bantha taking flight, but his own regret still caught him off guard. After all these years, after taking the life of his own master, a life he grieved for far more than his own father, he had grudgingly succumbed to the ridiculous fantasy of Qui-Gon once more standing at his side. Pushing the futile thoughts aside, Xanatos allowed the dark Force to fill, comforting with black waves of ire and hostility. His expression hardened, his pupils constricted to small black dots, and a hateful smirk graced his lips. "No, not pleasant at all." He cast the last dying embers of his benevolence out of the black pit that was his heart. No more weakness, he thought, fixating on his anger and resentment of the man before him. Allowing the emotions to boil and fester within, it endowed him with a vile and obscene sense of power. "Begin," he croaked, as the med tech wheeled a small tray to the Jedi's side. Turning toward the man in white, Qui-Gon watched as he reached for a second vial and syringe. Again the man injected a liquid into the IV line. As the drug flowed into his veins, Qui-Gon could feel a warm sensation spreading up his arm. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" Xanatos asked the Jedi Master. "I'm sure you won't hesitate the chance to gloat over your supposed victory," Qui-Gon answered curtly as the drug wormed its way into his chest, slowly finding its way to his neck. "The drug is a potent psychotropic. Taken in small doses it produces a euphoric effect, larger doses have been known to cause deliriums and long-term usage has resulted in a wide range of psychosis. By that time, one's mind is highly receptive to suggestion and there should be no problem with gleaning any information you may try to hide." Xanatos' eyes glittered coldly. "Of course, I hardly have that kind of time to waste, but worry not Master, I've discovered a way to hasten the drug's effects considerably." Nodding to the med tech, the man began to apply small electrodes to the Jedi's forehead, chest arms and legs. Qui-Gon made no move as the man attached the patches. Not that he could do anything to resist whatever plans Xanatos had for him. As the drug worked its way through his system, the Jedi Master could feel tingling fingers reaching into his brain, almost as though tiny life forms were crawling around in his head. His muscles involuntarily went lax, the drug numbing the centers of his brain that controlled motor skills, making his body feel weightless. "Through experimentation I've found that sense deprivation along with the application of pain induces a truly dramatic affect." The dark lord paused while the med tech slipped a strange elastic device over the Jedi's head. Two small spherical objects, woven into the band hugged his head tightly. "It seems that the loss of sensation opens the mind to the darker elements, especially fear," Xanatos intoned with glee, "and with the added effects of the drug, the mind can't help but give life to those fears. You see Master, no amount of torture that I could visit on you can compare with what your own imagination, your own remembered experiences can manifest." Qui-Gon could feel the edges of his mind growing hazy as the drug infiltrated his brain. His thoughts began to fragment, losing their intensity as a comforting peace enveloped him. In vain, he reached out to the Force, attempting to at least minimize the strength of the drug taking hold. Damn, he thought fuzzily. A distant recollection of Force binders drifting to the forefront of his mind, then receding as quickly. "My suggestion to you Master," Xanatos whispered eerily, seeing the slow, dreamy smile spread over the Jedi's relaxed face, "try and keep your happy thoughts." Straining to retain some semblance of control, Qui-Gon could nevertheless feel his mental faculties slowly slipping away on a surging wave of serenity. It's really not so bad. he thought, an unconscious smile sliding into place, all worries and concerns drowned out by the rising tide of euphoria. Around him the room wavered, its sterile whiteness glowing brilliantly. The last thing his conscious mind registered as the drug claimed him, drawing him down into sweet oblivion, was a soft, echoing voice following... ...happy thoughts...happy thoughts... "Did you give him the full dose?" Xanatos asked the technician, watching as the great and noble Qui-Gon Jinn closed his eyes, surrendering to the drug. "Yes, M'lord" he answered, adjusting the elastic band so that the small spheres were placed over the Jedi's ears. "But may I point out that such a large dose may have been unnecessary," the med tech commented innocently. So focused on the job at hand, adjusting the monitors that registered the Jedi's vital signs and setting up a small black box, that he had momentarily forgotten his place. "Are you questioning me?" Xanatos asked calmly. The med tech's head spun around, his eyes full of panic. "No...no M'lord…" he stuttered nervously. "it was only an observation...I...I.." Content with the man's fearful reaction, Xanatos waved off the comment with a casual hand. "You've no idea the amount of discipline and training a Jedi goes through," the Lord explained, "many have gone through experiences that would stop the heart of most mortals..." Xanatos trailed off, looking at the sniveling, weak minded man before him with mild irritation. What did he know of true strength? All it took to gain his allegiance was the promise of unlimited funds to continue his endeavor into his somewhat questionable medical research. And from there it was a simple matter to steer the man in a direction that the dark lord found beneficial to his own cause and control him through intimidation. Xanatos eyes flashed with distain, causing the med tech who stood wide-eyed and motionless to suck in a frightened breath. "Is it ready?" Xanatos' eyes flickered to the black box on the tray. "Yes M'lord," the man answered swiftly, breathing a sigh of relief that the dark man's weighted gaze had fallen elsewhere. Plugging an adaptor into the monitoring equipment, a small red light lit up on the box. Small and rectangular, the black box had a number of switches across the front and a small round dial. "I'll increase the amperage in increments, working on separate areas at first," the man said. "By morning you should have no problem with this Jedi." He flipped one of the switches up, turning the dial slightly. Qui-Gon lay on a pillowy divan in the middle of a small clearing of a lush green forest. All around him the soft, comforting sounds of nature pervaded his mind. Unseen birds twilled musically as if in serenade. A warm breeze brushed over his body, tingling his skin with light caresses. Overhead, tall, billowy clouds tinged with lavender, sailed aimlessly across a deep blue sky. Treetops swayed and bowed, their leaves rustling gently in the wind. "This was the best idea you've ever had," a familiar voice said happily. "Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon shouted ecstatically at the sight of his apprentice lounging on a similar couch not far from him. "I've misssssed you," the Master slurred drunkenly. "Missed me?" Obi-Wan beamed a smile. "How can you miss me when I've been at your side all along. Good one, Master!" he laughed heartily at the apparent joke. Stretching his arms out, Obi-Wan groaned with pleasure, then tucked them contently behind his head. "You really should allow them to help you with your headache, master." Kenobi remarked idly. "Hmmmmmm?" Qui-Gon drawled, enjoying the peace and serenity of these idyllic surroundings. Them? Headache? Qui-Gon wondered briefly, tearing his attention away from the sky, where the clouds seem to beckon him to follow. Glancing over at his apprentice, Qui-Gon was only mildly surprised to see Obi-Wan being waited on by four long robed ladies. Leave it to him to manage to locate a quartet of lovelies on a virtually uninhabited world, Qui-Gon thought with a chuckle. Looking up from her place next to Obi-Wan, one of the women made her way to the master's side, floating smoothly to the end of the divan where his head rested. Placing her small, soft hands on his forehead, she began to massage small circles on his temples bringing realization that indeed, his head did ache. As her expert touch intensified, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, resigning his care to her attentive caresses. Beep.....beep.....beep.....beep The machine's steady beat monitored the Jedi's pulse, a digital readout registered his pressures. As the med tech slowly increased the electric current to the leads attached to the Jedi’s head, Xanatos watched with fascination as the numbers climbed and the intervals between heartbeats slowly decreased, Qui-Gon's body beginning to show signs of the physical stress being inflicted. "Turn it up!" Xanatos demanded. Instantly, the med tech turned the dial a full quarter, the tones hastened moderately, the numbers edged upwards. "More." Furrowing his brow as the pain in his head increased, Qui-Gon tried reaching to the Force for relief. Chagrined at his loss of concentration, he grabbed at the hands that kneaded his head, stilling them. Opening his eyes to a world that pulsed and shimmered, Qui-Gon stretched his neck, looking up at the figure that stood over him when his head was engulfed in searing pain. Gone was the lovely woman...gone was the lush green paradise and blue sky. Qui-Gon struggled with the large insectoid being that attacked him. Over eight feet tall, the hive-mind Mantisians were a primitive, warring race he and his apprentice encountered on the mostly barren, mountainous planet of Epos I. Unknowingly trespassing in their domain, they had been ambushed by a group of the fiercely territorial beings. Now suddenly, Qui-Gon was reliving the battle with the aggressive brutes, a deep sense of de-ja-vue prevailing. Heavy rain fell from a black, boiling sky, drenching him within seconds. Reaching for his weapon, he was dismayed to find it missing from its place on his belt, thus he was having to rely on hand to hand combat with a creature who‘s size and strength far outmatched his own. A glance toward the wrestling figures to his right, inform him that Obi-Wan was in the same dire circumstances. Grappling with the being had proven to be one of the greatest test of his life. With four arms, each one ending in a long, pincer-like claw, the insectal creature was protected by a slick, hard exoskeleton that was impervious to even the strongest of blows and kicks the Jedi Master could impart. Not only were the Mantisian's physically more powerful but their small, instinctual minds were immune to the influence of the Force. Their only hope was to hold them off and find a way to escape. Using a Force push that sent one of his attackers careening into another, Qui-Gon was down to fighting off a single Mantisian. He was succeeding in holding his own against the quad-armed beast when a pained shout pierced through the sound of the heavy downpour. Off to his right, only meters away, Obi-Wan flagged in his own struggle with multiple opponents. "Master!" his apprentice cried out, overpowered and exhausted. Unnerved by the sound of distress he heard in the Padawan’s voice, Qui-Gon looked to see one of the creature’s swing a deadly blow at the vulnerable lad, slicing him across the abdomen with its long, sharp talons. “Noooo!” Qui-Gon screamed in disbelief as Obi-Wan doubled over, a stream of blood pouring from the wound, quickly washed away in the rain. Now totally defenseless, the other creatures fell upon the hapless young Jedi. This wasn’t right, this isn’t what happened, a surreal voice whispered in his head as Qui-Gon stood powerless to stop the creatures in their savage butchery of his Padawan. Taking advantage of the elder Jedi’s distracted state, the insectal beast lunged at Qui-Gon, knocking him to the ground with a powerful blow to the head. Flung onto the rocky ground in a splash, Qui-Gon was pinned down by the huge creature pouncing on top of him. This isn’t real...we had escaped the Mantisian assault unharmed, the voice wailed trying desperately to convince the Jedi Master of that remembered fact. The creature seized his head in one massive claw. Struggling in vain, Qui-Gon could feel the razor-sharp pincer slice through his scalp, bearing down on his skull. Excruciating pain ripped through his head in the vice-like grip. All hint of the voice muffled by the terrible onslaught of very real pain as the Mantisian continued to apply pressure in its clutch. Choking on the rain that threatened to drown him, Qui-Gon cried out in agony, his skull on the verge of collapsing under the lethal pressure. |
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