Rememberance Rating: NR
by B. L. Lindley-AndersonWarnings: none
Summary: Obi-Wan has crashed a landspeeder. He awakes to find he has amnesia and is seriously injured. He knows not where he is or where to go. Qui-Gon sets out to find him--and is hindered at many points.
Oh, so slowly the darkness began to fade. Sounds filled the air. And then confusion followed. Gradually realization began to dawn. He slowly opened his eyes—the brightness was painful. Squinting against the glare, he tried to take in his surroundings in an effort to decipher what had happened. His aching head finally decided he had been unconscious.
Obi-Wan lifted his hands to his throbbing head. Each movement was excruciating. As he tried to push himself into a sitting position, waves of pain tore through his head, and nausea surged through his stomach. The dizziness was so intense Obi-Wan was almost unable to bring himself into a fully upright position. He closed his eyes to end the conflict between what his balance system was telling him and what his eyes saw. As he tried to inhale a great gulp of air, hoping to help settle his system, another stab of agony told him that he must have broken some ribs in—in whatever had happened to him.
What had happened? With great uncertainty, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes. His inwards seemed to be a little more in synch now and the dizziness, although still very much present, wasn't so overwhelming. Surveying his surroundings, he saw that a few feet away from him were the mangled remains of a landspeeder. At least now the torment his body kept reporting to him was explainable. All he needed to know now was how it had happened.
As the young Jedi apprentice dug into his memory for the explanation, he started when he realized that not only did he have no memory of the accident—he had no memory of before the accident. Obi-Wan didn't know where he was—or worse—who he was! Try as he might, he could bring no remembrance of his past to mind. It was as if his life started when he opened his eyes just moments ago.
He struggled to choke back the alarm that threatened to overwhelm him at this realization. I can't afford to panic now. I have to remain in control if I want to get out of this, he told himself. The padawan decided that the first thing he ought to do was assess his well being after such a terrific crash. The head pain, dizziness, and nausea let him know that he had a concussion. And he hadn't forgotten the pain of the busted ribs. He gingerly ran a hand along each arm, checking for possible fractures. Even though he didn't find any obvious breaks, there was ample bruising, swelling, and abrasions. Repeating the procedure on each leg turned up similar findings. No breaks--but lots of evidence of the crash he had endured. That his injuries weren't worse was fortunate, Obi-Wan reminded himself. At least he wasn't incapacitated here in the middle of nowhere. Tearing strips from his tunic, he bound up the worst of his wounds to stem the blood flow.
Dreading the agony he anticipated it would bring, Obi-Wan knew he would have to get to his feet. Unhurriedly, he began to lift himself up and tried to plant his feet firmly on the swaying ground. He knew it was he that was really swaying, not the ground, but the effects of the concussion were again doing battle with what his eyes perceived. As the vertigo and accompanying queasiness threatened to send him back to the ground, the tyro grabbed for a nearby tree, struggling to maintain his somewhat vertical position while his system attempted to orient itself. After several minutes and two more attempts, Obi-Wan managed to stand, still using the tree as a back up balancing system. As painful as his efforts were, he was actually glad to have something to keep his mind off the frightening aspect of amnesia. After several more minutes, he was ready to take his first fledgling steps toward the wreck.
Having been so rudely occupied with his injuries and his amnesia, it had not occurred to the Jedi that there might have been someone traveling with him. This thought made him increase his pace to the craft. That was a mistake, but Obi-Wan's concern for another possible victim made him focus on that instead of his pain. On reaching the remains, it was obvious there was no one else in the transport. A quick survey of the surrounding terrain revealed no other victims either. The first good news Obi-Wan thought to himself. He poked around the leftovers of the craft to see if there was anything he could salvage.
Obi-Wan found a backpack filled with food and some supplies. There were a couple of water containers which, he was glad to see, were filled. He was very interested to find out if there was any sort of communication device—surely if he'd had the forethought to pack such generous supplies, he must have included some type of comm link. A short search turned up only the built-in one in the speeder—which was smashed. He continued his search for anything else of use and was about to turn away when a glimmer of metal caught his eye. Obi-Wan reached into the floor of the wreck and brought forth a metal cylinder with switches on it. He turned it over in his hands a couple of times and started to pitch it back in when a stab of hesitation hit him. There was something about the cylinder...something...but he couldn't remember what. It seemed to be important for some reason. Obi-Wan attached it to his belt, thinking to look at it later. He had no idea where he was or how far the nearest settlement might be. So he intended to find a place to rest and recover somewhat from his injuries for the night. Judging from the sun angle, he probably had a good 3 or 4 hours before dark set in—but he didn't know how far he would have to travel before he would find a sheltered place. Shouldering his burden was a very painful experience. The wounded Jedi wondered at his ability to carry the backpack with his injuries. He had little choice he realized. I'll just have to go slow and take frequent breaks he told himself. Beginning at a hobble he started down the road without another look at the rubble.
It only took a few short minutes before Obi-Wan was huffing and puffing. His head felt like it was about to explode and the nausea threatened to overflow. He stumbled to a rock to sit on--not wanting to have to fight his way back up from the ground a second time. Dropping the pack, he quickly gulped down some of the water, reminding himself to ration it since he had no clue as to when he would be able to renew the supply. I can't go on, Obi-Wan had to admit to himself. His injuries were too acute for him to be able to travel, especially with the supplies he had to bring along. He began carefully scanning the area, looking for any place he could use for shelter. There were rocky, stubby hills on either side of the road he had been traveling. He looked for any opening in that rock. Some place he could crawl into to be sheltered from—he didn't know what. He didn't know what kind of creatures might be out at night, or what the weather would be like.
There! There, in that rock, just a short distance up a small hill. That dark area. Is that an opening? Obi-Wan grabbed the backpack and cautiously hauled himself up from the rock. This had better be shelter, he thought, I can't go on. He crossed the road and started the short ascent. However, in his condition, it may as well have been Olympus Mons. The 30 feet that he had to climb took him almost an hour. His body screamed in agony with each demand that he put on it. Each hand hold, each push against a rock with his foot was magnified through his traumatized body and sapped his already waning strength. He felt like bellowing out his frustration, but channeled that energy into his climb instead, promising his fatigued body that it would soon be able to rest.
Finally! Pushing the pack up on to the ledge, he hauled himself up and almost wept with joy to discover that it was indeed a cleft in the rock. He drug himself into the crack in the rock and almost immediately lost consciousness.
Qui-Gon Jinn leaned further over the comm panel as his brow furrowed into deep creases of concern.
"What do you mean, he isn't there yet? Obi-Wan left yesterday. He should have arrived later the same day."
"I know that Master Qui-Gon," the static almost drowned out the voice on the other end of the link. "He was scheduled to land in the afternoon but we never picked up a ship on our sensors, never had any communication from him."
Qui-Gon ran his fingers through his beard as he thought. I should never have let him go alone. "Very well, Chancellor," the Jedi Master tried to keep his voice calm. "I will end my business here on Coruscant and leave today rather than wait till tomorrow." He flipped a switch ending the communication without waiting for the administrator to respond. Sitting back in his chair, the venerable master closed his eyes and called on the force. He needed to find out what he could about where Obi-Wan might be. However, he could see nothing definite. He was reminded of what Yoda had once said, "Hard to see the future is. Always emotions." Even though he could see nothing, he could feel something was not right. There was something disrupting the normal smooth flow of the Force. Something was wrong, this much was clear.
Obi-Wan had left for the planet of Baroon yesterday. He and Qui-Gon were dispatched by the Jedi Council to go and consult with the ruler about a dispute with the neighboring planet of Loard. The Council had actually assigned them to leave in two days because Qui-Gon had a couple of loose ends to tie up from the last assignment that he had just completed for the Council. Obi-Wan was anxious to start on a new assignment and not content to play the waiting game. He convinced Qui-Gon to let him go on ahead and get a feel for things. It sounded harmless enough. The dispute had not escalated and there was little chance of trouble for Obi-Wan—or so Qui-Gon had thought. There wasn't a war, so the chances of anyone attacking his padawan were small. Surely Obi-Wan would have gone straight to Baroon. He wasn't irresponsible enough to go traipsing off on his own.
The Jedi thumbed another switch and waited for an acknowledgement.
"Yes, Qui-Gon," Yoda responded.
"Master, there is a problem."
"Yes, I have felt it. Your apprentice."
"Yes, Master Yoda. I have tried to see..."
Yoda cut him off. "Clouded it is. Nothing will we learn. To him you must go."
"Then I am released, Master?"
"Yes, at once. Go."
Qui-Gon never heard the word "go". As soon as Yoda had said "yes", he had leaped from the chair and headed for the door. He pulled out his comm link as he hurried down the hallway and arranged for a ship to be ready at the dock when he arrived.
The small transport ship was indeed ready for departure by the time the Jedi Master sprinted through the doors of the docking bay. Without slowing Qui-Gon called out to the officer of the deck, "Is this the ship for passage to Baroon?"
"Yes," the O.D. called out as he turned to watch Qui-Gon rush by. "Excuse me, sir, but first I need your acknowledgement." The helpless official held out an electronic clipboard to the now empty space before him.
"Contact Yoda," Qui-Gon yelled back without looking over his shoulder. Bounding into the ship, he quickly strapped himself in and opened the communications channel to the glass enclosed control room which overlooked the deck. Advising them of his departure, not asking for permission to take off, Qui-Gon left behind a confused and confounded docking bay crew.
Once away from the port, Qui-Gon took the time to calm himself. True enough, he was not behaving as a Jedi, definitely not in total control of his feelings but letting them get the better of him. A momentary lapse was excusable, as long as he didn't let his strong feelings take control of his reason. His concern was understandable enough. In training Obi-Wan, he had come to look on him as a son. The two had been through many hours of training. They had been in life and death situations more times than Qui-Gon cared to count. And they had exulted in the happy outcomes of bad situations—and mourned over the bad ones as well. It was too much to ask, even of a Jedi, to go through so much without becoming attached to the padawan.
His hurry to get away he could justify. Time might be of the essence. However, now that he was absent from the bureaucracy of the docking bay, Qui-Gon knew he needed to recenter himself and bring his fervor under control. Otherwise he would not be able to draw on the Force effectively—and that wouldn't help him or Obi-Wan. Taking a moment, he sat back and collected himself and reached out to the force to connect with it and feel the peace and well being it offered him. Slowly releasing a deep breath, the Jedi Master turned to the controls and prepared to make the jump to light speed which would take him to Baroon.
Obi-Wan gradually became aware of the light streaming into the cave where he had spent an uninterrupted night. He had been so exhausted from the physical exertion and the toll the pain had taken on his body that in spite of the continuing ache, he had slept the night through. Trying to roll from his back onto his side brought only waves of torment from head to toe. Sleeping on the cold, hard rock had only served to add the complications of stiffness and additional soreness from the pressure points between the unyielding stone and his wounded body. Having finally eased himself onto his left side, Obi-Wan just lay still to allow the sharp edge of the pain to dull—and to look out of the crag to study his surroundings. Also, the specter of amnesia crept back to the front of his mind.
Obi-Wan tried hard to pull some piece of a memory from his tortured brain. Nothing…he could remember not one thing prior to waking up next to the crashed speeder. The more he tried, the more his head hurt. Finally, out of weariness, he gave up. Still…there was something in the back of his mind that he couldn't quite connect with… Cautiously the young Jedi pushed himself up into a sitting position and leaned back against a rock. Fighting the agony continued to sap his strength. How was he going to be able to get anywhere if almost every movement not only put him in anguish but stole his strength as well?
First things first he told himself. He opened the backpack and rummaged through the food supplies to see what was available. He wasn't picky at this point—any food would do! Leaning back to allow the rock to support him, he settled in for his breakfast—and continued to try to make contact with that…that…whatever was lurking in the back of his mind. He only wound up with a headache though. He was getting very frustrated. It was something important—he just knew it—but he didn't know what it was. Kicking at some pebbles in irritation helped none and hurt his leg as well. Chiding himself, Obi-Wan tried to clear his mind so he could rest and get some back some of the strength he would need for his trek.
Qui-Gon came out of hyperspace close to Baroon and immediately made contact with the authorities.
"Of course, Master Jedi, you are permitted to land. But I don't know what you hope to accomplish by coming here," Chancellor Jaconda muttered. "I've already told you that we picked up no ships on our sensors. Why do you think your apprentice would be here?"
"Simple, sir. We know he went into hyperspace as soon as he left Coruscant. He was set to come to Baroon—so he must have come out of hyperspace in this vicinity."
"Hrmph!" the administrator snorted. "He could have changed course. You don't know that he can here just because he said he was going to."
"With respect, Chancellor, I do know that he came here because he said he was going to."
"Ha! Your trust in his word is foolish."
"No, my trust in him is well founded. You don't understand the Jedi, sir."
Silence followed for several seconds. "That's your concern. You may land here for whatever good it will do you." The official ended the communication without waiting for a reply.
Qui-Gon made contact with the landing facility and soon was making a final approach to the landing area. As he disembarked his ship, a uniformed official was waiting for him.
"Master Qui-Gon." The officer bowed in deference to the Jedi. "I'm Captain Breen. I'm here to assist you at Vice-regent Jaconda's request."
Surprising development, Qui-Gon thought to himself. Jaconda had seemed so hostile toward him. "Thank you, Captain. I could use your assistance."
"Of course, What can I do for you?"
"The Chancellor tells me that you picked up no ships of the type that my apprentice was traveling in."
"That's correct."
"Could there be any mistake in your sensor readings? A malfunction maybe?"
"Anything is possible—but it's highly unlikely that a malfunction would have gone undetected. I can check into it for you."
"Please do. Would your sensors pick up a ship anywhere in this solar system?"
"We have a high reliability for most of the planets. However, when the planets are on the opposite side of the sun from us, the certainty drops because of the great distances involved"
"So it's possible a ship could have landed on one of those planets without your knowing about it?"
The captain shifted on his feet a little, uncomfortable with having to admit the limitations of his facility. "It's possible—but I think it's a low probability."
"Would it be possible for me to see your equipment and talk to the operators?"
The captain puffed himself up and locked eyes with the Jedi. Qui-Gon could see what was coming and tried to head it off and settle the captain back down.
"Captain, please, it isn't that I don't trust you. However, my apprentice is missing and it's even possible that his life could be in danger and I think it's prudent for me to check every possibility."
This seemed to calm Captain Breen. He relaxed and exhaled a breath. "Of course. I understand. If it were one of my men, I would feel the same way. Please come with me."
Obi-Wan knew he had to get moving soon, so he gathered his things and closed up the backpack. Every movement was a new adventure in pain. There must be something I can do to help myself, he thought. For his bruises there was nothing to be done. For his abrasions and cuts he had done all he could in bandaging them. For the areas where his tissue was distended, the only thing that would reduce that was rest. The concussion called for rest as well—demanded it in fact, but he couldn't afford to just sit around in an unknown environment with limited supplies and no means of communication. The remaining injury was his busted ribs. He could try to bind his torso to reduce the movement of the broken bones. That might reduce his agony a little—any amount of relief would be welcome. The padawan removed his tunic and used the outer waistband to wrap snugly about his trunk. Slowly and gingerly he redonned his tunic. Smarting from the ache of the activity, he rested himself on the floor of the cave a moment and made a mental note. The next time he traveled he would bring a well-stocked first aid kit.
The thought jarred him. Next time I travel? How do I know there will be a next time? Why was I even traveling now? Obi-Wan didn't want to start down that path again. Trying to remember was only causing him headaches. He needed to get going—that was enough to think about for the moment. Moving slowly and carefully, he got himself on all fours and crept out of the cave. He paused at the entry to catch a breath. The binding was helping somewhat. Gradually he rose to his feet, his head protesting all the way up. Lifting the pack, the padawan began to study the incline he had to descend, judging what seemed to be the easiest way back down to ground level. Sighing slightly—he knew better than to breathe too deeply—he began picking his way down the rise.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon looked at the data pads spread on the table before him. A technician who tended the sensory equipment at the spaceport was speaking.
"I have run a check on the equipment twice, sir," he answered stiffly. "It is functioning properly. It has been in constant use since yesterday and we have no logged errors or reported problems. I feel confident that if your colleague's ship had entered the space near our planet, we would have detected it."
Qui-Gon sighed deeply. He wasn't happy to hear that answer, but knew the technician had done all he could and it was pointless to argue further with the information presented him. Still, he couldn't understand why Obi-Wan hadn't arrived as he was supposed to. If he is not here…then where is he? Suddenly he became aware that someone had been talking. He looked up and noticed Captain Breen expectantly watching him.
"My apologies, Captain. Were you speaking to me?"
"Is this information sufficient, sir?"
The Jedi sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. He considered and then summarized what he knew.
"There was no indication of a Republic transport entering your space yesterday or today—until I arrived. The instrumentation checks out. So we know with a fair amount of certainty that he neither landed nor…crashed on this planet." He didn't want to vocalize that thought, but it was a real possibility. And the only way to track down the padawan was to explore every possibility—pleasant or not.
"Yes, even though we can't give you absolute information on the entire system, we think we can say with a high degree of confidence that he is not on Baroon." Captain Breen stared at the Jedi who was again locked into his private contemplations. Hoping to bring what he thought was a waste of time to an end he prompted Qui-Gon by asking. "Is there something more we can do?"
"Hmm?" The master was roused from his daze, "Oh, no I suppose there's nothing more to be done here. I'm grateful for your help and your indulgence."
"We are happy to help. Will you be meeting with the Vice-regent?"
"No. I have been given leave by the Jedi council to search for my apprentice. They will dispatch another ambassador to address your dispute with Loard."
"Where will you look now?"
"I'm not sure yet. I need to consider."
"You are welcome to use of this facility for as long as you are on Baroon. I must be back at my duties now. If you require me, one of the technicians can contact me."
Qui-Gon rose slowly and mechanically shook the captain's hand. His mind was still far away. "Thank you for your kindness."
The captain and the technician both bowed slightly to the Jedi and turned to leave.
Qui-Gon stepped to the window and looked out at the ships coming and going from the busy port. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Reaching out to touch the force, he searched for the familiar presence that he had come to know so well over the years of training Obi-Wan. Just as each person had a distinctive fingerprint, each individual's existence in the force was uniquely his or her own. Concentrating and reaching further into what he felt, Qui-Gon was looking for Obi-Wan's fingerprint, the evidence that he was still existent on this side of the force. Finally, at long last, the Jedi found what he had been seeking so intently. However, the essence was barely there. Not as if his apprentice were passing away—but as if the contact was weak. Like the batteries in Obi-Wan's transmitter were low, he thought, putting it in simplistic terms.
The master crossed back to the table and sat down. It was very confusing to him. He felt some relief to know Obi-Wan was there, but he was at a loss to understand why he was having trouble sensing him.
Obi-Wan had only been walking for a short time, but he was exhausted. Not allowing his injuries a chance to rest and heal was taking its toll on him. The exertion on his anguished body was increasing the damage. The apprentice was light headed and becoming somewhat disoriented from the strain on his system. He stumbled to an area of shade near one of the craggy hillocks along the road he was following. He leaned against the rocks and slid down to the ground. He was already in so much pain that he didn't notice the abrading of skin that was caused by sliding his wrecked body down the face of the large boulder.
Obi-Wan took a long drink and finished emptying the first of his water containers. He was glad to be motionless and inactive for awhile—that is until he remembered that the physical activity, as painful and taxing as it was, took his mind off his emotional suffering. He wasn't sure which was worse. They both were agonizing—but at least he knew his body would heal. Would his mind? He had no idea if he would be able to regain his memory. That was more than just painful, it was frightening. To wake up in a world you don't know and to realize you don't even know yourself. The apprentice buried his head in his hands and concentrated. There must be something that he could bring forth from his memory…anything! There seemed to be something at the back of his mind, lurking. Something important that Obi-Wan knew he should remember—like a name on the tip of your tongue. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring it forward. It was like a shadow—there at the edge of darkness, but as soon as he tried to shine the light of recognition on it, it was gone.
Ah, it just gave him another headache to think on it! He had enough aches without that. He'd stopped to seek rest from his pain, so he tried to divert his attention and think on something else. He was about to reach for the backpack when he felt something…something…in his head. Something that he had not tried to call forth. Something that felt like it had been put there. It felt like someone else in his head. Someone else in his head—that was a frightening thought. He couldn't command his own mind to recall his own life and now it felt like another was trying to control his thoughts. Obi-Wan shook his head to clear it. That was a mistake. A wave of hurt and nausea washed over him, reminding him of the head injury. He grabbed his head and closed his eyes until the dizziness passed. A thought occurred to him. Suppose his concussion was worse than he'd originally thought. Maybe that's why he was having odd thoughts. Perhaps there had been some damage to the fragile tissue of his brain. Panic grabbed his gut. If that were so, there was nothing he could do for himself. He had no way to treat that. What if he lost his ability to reason? He could die out here.
The padawan became aware of his frantic breathing, thanks to his rib injury. Come on. Calm down. Get hold of yourself. You are going to keep going. Losing control will certainly make you lose your ability to reason. He knew he had to find something to keep his mind occupied. So he forced himself to think on solving mathematical logic puzzles—to force his intellect to kick into gear instead of letting his emotions rule him. He began to calm and he reached for the pack for a bite to eat. That's it, that's it. Keep your reason about you and stay sharp.
Qui-Gon had turned from his meditations and had spent some time considering his next course of action. It had occurred to him that perhaps Obi-Wan had gone to Loard. They were scheduled to visit both planets. Maybe the padawan had decided to stop at Loard initially and then meet him on Baroon when Qui-Gon landed there. After all, Qui-Gon was not scheduled to arrive for two days. Just because the Jedi master had intended to start on Baroon didn't mean that Obi-Wan would go there first. Perhaps with that much time before the talks started Obi-Wan decided to begin his look around on Loard. As he thought over his reasoning, the Jedi looked from the window of the spaceport building into the dusty, pale sky. There was Loard now. It was time of the closest approach of the planets to each other in their orbital tracks, which made the body easily seen. He nodded his head; it sounded like a plausible explanation.
Therefore, the elder Jedi decided to talk with the planetary officials on Loard. However, he bore in mind the fact that there was currently a dispute between the legislatures of the two worlds. Qui-Gon was fearful that if he merely made a comm link with the government while he was still on Baroon, there might not be total cooperation because of their animosity toward Baroon. So he decided to visit the planet, present himself to the ruler, thereby making direct contact with the leadership of the planet.
Qui-Gon called for Captain Breen to inform him that he would be leaving. The officer inquired of the Jedi's plans. Breen agreed with him that Obi-Wan going to Loard was a reasonable idea. He offered to either speak with the planet's officials or go with Qui-Gon to the planet. Qui-Gon thanked him for his offer but resolutely refused any offer of assistance from the leaders of the planet. He wanted nothing to delay his progress in locating his apprentice. He took his leave of the captain and was soon on his way to the neighboring planet.
Obi-Wan had been traveling for a few hours now, but he had covered only a short distance. It was rough going for the padawan. It was difficult enough to walk—but to have to walk in the wretched sun and on the irregular, rugged terrain multiplied his toil. The ups and downs and crevices and occasional obstacle fallen onto the path would make rough traveling for a whole person. For one who was as bashed and sore as the miserable apprentice, it was pure agony. His joints ached. His injuries repaid their rough treatment with torment and failing capacity. His head pounded and the dizziness never left him now. He stumbled to a boulder beside the trail and lowered himself to a half-sitting position on the edge of it. The apprentice rubbed the sweat out of his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. He was huffing and puffing from the exertion—which caused his ribs to ache the more. In pain and frustration, Obi-Wan began to sob. Try as he might, he just couldn't hold it back any more. He felt his emotional strength dissolve with his physical strength. He was being assaulted by his injuries, by the toll the travel was taking on him, by the worry over his amnesia, by the slowness of his journey, by the lack of contact—which brought additional anxiety about supplies or possible medial attention. It was too much, too much…. He gave in and quit trying to hold back. All came out in a surge of tears and release of distress. The heavy sobs wracked his body, causing yet more agony. The padawan lost focus on the world about him and, unheedful of his position perched on the edge of the large rock, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Already a tortured mass of flesh, he hardly noticed the added pain from the impact on the hard earth. He just lay in the dust and rocks and let all his anger, frustration, and suffering flow out through the tears that washed his face of the dirt—and his soul of its agony.
Some time later, Obi-Wan had no idea how much later, the padawan pushed himself slowly up into a sitting position. The sun was low to the horizon so he looked about for a sheltered place for the night. He hadn't much choice now, this late in the day. He hadn't the desire to set out walking either to look for proper shelter. Groaning and cursing as he got his feet under him, he gingerly lifted himself up. He was so dizzy and weak that his knees shook visibly. There was no way he could travel further, even if he wanted. Refusing to think on the possibility of becoming incapacitated out here, he turned to survey his surroundings. Grasping one of the straps of the backpack, he turned to walk toward the stubby hills, dragging his burden on the ground behind him.
Walking along the foot of the jagged protuberance of stone rising from the planet surface, Obi-Wan spied an outcropping just ahead. Jutting from the hillside was just enough of a rock shelf that the apprentice could fit under. He wasn't picky either. Appreciatively he carefully lowered his mutilated form to the unforgiving ground and drug himself under the ledge. The padawan didn't move another muscle but lay still as death. Soon he was gratefully unconscious.
Early the next morning Qui-Gon rose from the small couch tucked into the back of the compact transport that he had been traveling in. He had arrived at Loard late in the night and had refused all offers from the spaceport officials to accompany him to the house of the planetary governor. Qui-Gon knew from previous experience how much deference was usually given to the Jedi, as representatives of the Republic government. There was no point in waking the ruling house of the planet just so he could have a soft bed. Therefore, the master had insisted on sleeping in his ship.
Since it was yet early, the Jedi took a few moments for his morning amenities—cleaning himself up and having a small breakfast. Then he returned to the couch. Sitting with his eyes closed and breathing deeply, he once more reached out to the force. Again he began his search for the padawan's essence. It took some time, but he finally found Obi-Wan. Deeply concentrating, Qui-Gon tried to understand what was going on. Yes, his apprentice was alive. Yet, he didn't seem to be in touch with the force himself. Could that be what it was? If Obi-Wan wasn't reaching out to the force, could that explain why his presence felt so weak? If that were so—then why was he not in touch with the force? True, his apprentice still had much to learn of the ways of the force; however, he was certain Obi-Wan understood the importance of using the force, of reaching out to it. Why, then, would he deliberately avoid it? Unless…a chill shook through Qui-Gon and his eyes snapped open. Something must be preventing it. The padawan understood…so there must be something that is stopping him from connecting with the force. Qui-Gon was unsettled by this realization. He had to calm himself however. Getting upset would cause him to lose his focus and that would not help his attempt to find Obi-Wan. So he remained where he was for a few minutes longer to seek out the calm of the force, the peace of the force. Focus, he told himself.
Later, at a more respectable hour, Qui-Gon permitted himself to be shuttled to the governor's house. He allowed the official a short time to observe some of the political rituals accorded to visiting dignitaries then came to his point quickly.
"I thank you, Governor, for your hospitality. However, before you go on, let me assure you up front that I am not here on a diplomatic mission. I have business of a more personal nature to attend to."
The governor's brow furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me, sir. I thought you were sent here by the Senate to mediate our dispute with Baroon."
"It's true I had been given that assignment. However, in the meantime a matter has come up that I must attend. Another Jedi will be dispatched very shortly to act as negotiator."
"I see," he replied slowly, still confused. "Then may I ask why you are here?"
"My apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, left Coruscant two days ago to come to this system. He would have been assisting me in the negotiations. However, he did not arrive on Baroon as scheduled. I have visited the planet in an attempt to determine his whereabouts. The officials there were most helpful. There is nothing in their sensor record to indicate that my apprentice's ship landed on the planet, or even entered their controlled space. I was hoping that you could help me determine if he might have landed on your planet instead."
"Why, yes, of course. All our resources will be at your disposal. Anything we can do to help, we will. Excuse me one moment and I will contact one of my aides to assist you."
Thus it was that Qui-Gon found himself seated at a table in a large conference room at an official building near the spaceport that he had landed at. The scene was very similar to the one that had transpired on Baroon. An officer in the military force that oversaw the landing port had spoken with the Jedi. Upon hearing the story, the officer had left Qui-Gon in the room while he went to check out the available data on ship activity near his planet during the time in question.
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