Chapter Four

Obi-Wan strode determinedly toward the Temple's hanger bay, ignoring the protests of five healers and two apprentices. He had to see his masterâ€"he didn't care that the healers thought he should take a hoverchair. He would meet his master on his feet, like a man.

Qui-Gon groaned as he was lifted onto a hovergurney. Every move he made ached like fire pulsing through him. He felt a familiar presence nearby-Obi-Wan. He tried to stand and push the healers away so he could go to the boy that he sensed standing outside the ship, but they quickly pushed him back down, overriding his protests.

Obi-Wan's heart nearly broke in two when he saw his strong, dependable master laying on a gurney, his face chalk white, blood covering his tunic...or what was left of it. Qui-Gon looked as bad as Obi-Wan sensed him to be. "Master..." he breathed as Qui-Gon was steered toward him.

Qui-Gon reached out for his padawan's hand. "Obi-Wan. How are you feeling, young one?"

Obi-Wan hid his fear for his master. "Better than you, I should think," he answered lightly, gripping his master's hand tightly and walking beside him back to the Healer's wing. "What happened?"

"What didn't happen is perhaps the better question, but I'll tell you about it later, padawan." Qui-Gon heard the scratchiness in his still not quite recovered throat as he talked.

Obi-Wan ignored Healer Apprentice Anya as she continuously berated him for being on his feet. "Will you be alright?" he asked quietly. His tone conveyed that he meant more than what was said on the surface.

"In time," Qui-Gon said, wincing a little. He gazed meaningfully at the padawan. "You should sit down, like Anya said."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm fine. She's just...a trifle more concerned than she should be. It's you they should be worrying over," he commented as they entered the large area that housed the bacta tanks.

Qui-Gon eyed the bacta tanks and grimaced. He hated bacta tanks and he wondered just how long he would have to be in one this time. He squeezed Obi-Wan's hand. "They worry about all their patients, Obi-Wan. It's her job."

Obi-Wan made a face, then protested as Anya forcibly dragged him away from Qui-Gon.

"He needs to be soaked in bacta immediately. Death is too close to him still," the young healer explained quickly. "Come over here and you can stay, as long as you let him rest and as long as you sit down."

Qui-Gon glanced anxiously at his padawan, urging him to comply with the healer padawan.

Obi-Wan sank onto a repulsor chair. He was more tired than he wanted to admit. He hadn't walked that much in almost a week. He watched as the teams of healers helped Qui-Gon into a light clothe that would protect his modesty, but at the same time revealed the blaster bolts and burns in better detail.

Qui-Gon tried not to cry out in pain as he was dressed but he couldn't help himself. He could barely stand, the blaster wound in his back had left him to where he could only stand half-way up. His left knee was throbbing fiercely and his vision swam from his concussion. His right shin, side and back all showed blackened skin and he still had a light scent of the ozone around him. The skin around the edges of the wounds was melted and blood trailed down his wounds. He wasn't bleeding as profusely as before, lying down on the ship had helped some, but blood flow increased when he stood up.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took some of his master's pain into himself. He nearly cried out with the pain that slammed into him, but he reminded himself that Qui-Gon needed all the help that he could get to help him feel better.

Qui-Gon felt what Obi-Wan was doing for him and stared reproachfully at him. "You need all your strength to heal, Padawan. I'll be alright. You're still not well yet yourself."

Obi-Wan said nothing, but met his master's gaze with his own steady one. It was a wordless declaration of love, and of unbinding will.

Qui-Gon smiled a little. His balance was wavering as he continued to stand and he looked like he was on the verge of falling over.

"Now, Master Jinn," Han'yaie was saying. "We'll bring you out in about twelve hours. We suggest you meditate to pass the time. Do you need anything?"

Qui-Gon couldn't think of anything really, or at least nothing they would give him. "Not that I can think of at the moment."

Han'yaie slowly led him up the stairs to the top of the bacta tank. Four healers gently lowered him into the room temperature bacta.

"Call out to me or Obi-Wan in the Force should you need one of us," Han'yaie instructed as he handed over the breath mask.

Qui-Gon sighed before he placed the breath mask over his mouth, then waited for them to lower him the rest of the way into the tank.

Rest well, Master...

Obi-Wan watched his master slip into a healing trance and found himself smiling. He was surprised at first-all the healers were worried about his master surviving and here he was, smiling? But then he felt it...the Force. Where once his master's presence had been dim and weak, it was now back to its regular strength and pulsing brightly. He might have to be a while in the bacta, but Obi-Wan was sure now that his master would be okay. Still smiling, he allowed himself to be taken back into his recovery room.

---

"Secret factory you say?" Master Yoda inquired, one green ear tilting in surprise.

Mace nodded from his position in the middle of the Council room. He had just finished giving his personal report of what he had seen when he rescued Qui-Gon. "Someone wanted it to remain hidden, though they did not put up a fight when I came to take Qui-Gon from there. It's a new planetoid, can't be more than a year or two old."

Ki-Adi Mundi frowned, his high brow wrinkling like a disturbed sea. "I do not like this, Mace. Someone placing a planetoid in the middle of an asteroid belt to keep it hidden? Trying to kill a lone Jedi to keep the place secret?"

"Find anything else did you?" Yoda asked, his eyes blinking slowly.

Mace nodded. "On the report I sent in, I included a picture of a logo that I found on the droids. I have had a little time on my journey to search through archives to discover what that logo belonged to." He paused to collect his thoughts.

After a moment, Master Yaddle wheezed out, "And to whom does it belong, Windu?"

Very quietly, Mace said, "The Trade Federation."

The Council members were silent. Then Master Fretora stood. "More investigation this needs. On it I will get. Blind the Jedi should not be. Much happening I sense."

Mace nodded at her. Other than Kyran Josel's wife, Lana, Master Fretora was the best researcher he had ever known. She was rich but influential. If anyone could find out what was going on with the Trade Federation, she could.

Yoda looked grave. "Keep alert we should. Dismissed we are."

THE END