CHAINS

Story idea by

Lay'ren

Written by gm

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan learn that physical bonds can be overcome by Jedi Warrior Bonds

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As planets went, Obi-Wan Kenobi decided, Stygyn was just about the pit of the galaxy. Trudging through the dusty, dirty marketplace, the young Jedi distastefully wrinkled his nose at the horrible smells emanating from various stalls in the open shopping mall. How was he supposed to get anything edible and drinkable amidst this filth?

As a twenty-year-old Apprentice, he had been to some rough places and endured some nasty experiences, but that wasn’t supposed to include eating! He was certain! All he was asking for was lunch. Who knew when they would eat again?

Awaiting contact with a representative from Stygyn’s political underground party, Kenobi was irritated at the mission in the first place. Stygers -- short, squat bipeds with green tinted scaly skin -- were the minority on Stygyn and were little more than slaves on their own planet. Those were the lucky ones. The others were unfortunate enough to be shanghaied and shipped over to the nearby moon where they were enslaved in the mines of Rigelian owned mineral caves.

Negotiating with a rival political faction meant their mission, of course, was secret. And if caught by the ruling Rigel security force? Dangerous. Only if they were caught, of course. A reminder he frequently thought about, but refrained from mentioning to his Master. No sense in reveal to Qui-Gon his trepidation about their precarious situation.

That was one reason that the ever-present Warrior Bond was utilized in full force as he made his way through the marketplace. The ever-protective Master Jinn was worried something might happen to the young man while scrounging for food.

‘Not as worried as I am about you, Master,’ was the young man’s silent and guarded response to the cautions of his mentor. This latest mission was another example of Jinn’s extreme habit of helping the downtrodden against impossible odds.

Kenobi stopped at a vendor’s stall and grimaced at the pale yellow liquid bubbling from portable containers. Nothing as appealing as the sweet Jawa Juice served at his favorite pub in Coruscant, but at least the price for this yellow sludge was all right. And it came with a pocket-pastry type meal that at least smelled like it was edible.

As he was studying the various foods, he felt a sudden wave of uncharacteristic dizziness. Stumbling back into the crowd, he shook his head to regain full focus of his senses. A sparkling glitter caught his eye and he then noted the hanging chlorimite crystals jangling above the stall. Frowning at the annoying lavender gemstones he moved along to another stall, covertly glancing around to make sure no one noticed his blunder.

Chlorimite -- another reason he hated this backwater planet. The oppressive political system that used slaves and the dirty and unpleasant living conditions were all bad. The lucrative mineral that was an important component in ion fusion was one of the greatest reasons he didn’t like it here. Chlorimite was a natural inhibitor of the Force. In its raw, unrefined state it had a mysteriously oscillating affect on Force sensitives; confusing and disorienting them. It was the closest thing he had ever discovered to be a geological anti-Jedi weapon. Not nearly as affective as a sonic bomb, or neural restraints, but disorienting enough to place a Jedi off guard long enough to do fatal damage. And while the radiation from chlorimite did not bother the thick-hide Rigelians, and affected the Stygers’ only over time, in large doses it was fatal to Humans. So the sooner they left this sector of space the better.

As he pursued the contents of the pastry stall, he twinged suddenly, instinctively reacting to detached danger. Through the Bond, he felt Qui-Gon’s senses spike. Spinning around, he quickly forgot about lunch and raced through the marketplace to find his Master.

***

Ahead of schedule for the meeting with the Stygyn representative, Qui-Gon felt it a good time to let his Padawan loose among the local populous and forage for food. Stygyn was a world beyond the rim of the Republic, a busy port-planet considered a final outpost of civilization before the great and mysterious Rishi Maze.

Because the chlorimite radiation was dangerous, most Humans avoided this planet. For good reason. Not just the poison mineral, but also for the possibility of being shanghaied and sent to the Rigelian mines. To Jedi the proximity to chlorimite disoriented brain patterns. Strictly speaking, it did not so much block the Force, as make it difficult for a Jedi to access the Force.

It was a perilous place to be -- Obi-Wan had warned him about that a number of times in the past few days -- but Qui-Gon felt it an imperative mission. Days ago, they had met several Stygers off planet on the mining world of Subterrel. The Stygers were trying to hire mercenaries to come to the largest moon of Styger and free some slaves.

Personally, Qui-Gon abhorred the custom of slavery, which was widely practiced outside the Republic. He knew two Jedi could not make an affective assault against well-guarded Rigelian interests. And, he was not in the business of freeing slaves. But he did agree to return to Stygyn with the exiles and meet with Stygers who were trying to organize a peaceful political opposition to the Rigelians.

The appeal for help was a request he could not deny. Although it placed him and his Padawan in considerable peril, he chose to do what he could to help the Stygers. As Jinn frequently did, his decision was made without the approval of the Council, or Kenobi.

Glancing around the courtyard of the eatery where his meet was scheduled, there were few Stygers in the public areas, he observed. The stout green beings were in bondage on their own native planet. A century ago enterprising Rigel miners from the nearby Rigel system discovered rich deposits of natural chlorimite on Stygyn’s largest moon. Then the Stygers were systematically overtaken by the Rigelians.

Physically, Rigelians were about the height of Jinn, but much stronger, more muscled and had the advantage of four arms. They were fierce, ruthless beings who controlled most of the planets in this region. Possessing chlorimite made them very rich.

The mineral, when crystallized, was used extensively in ion-powered machinery to focus and amplify the ions. It worked exceptionally well in weapons, so it was prized by most of the galaxy. Because of it’s unfortunate negative affects on Force-beings, it was avoided by Jedi in it’s natural state.

Obviously, Stygyn was not a place where Jedi advertised their presence. So far, Obi-Wan and he had blended well with the assortment of rugged beings on this rough world and their disguises were intact.

Early for his meeting, Qui-Gon sat at an outdoor bar and waited across the patio from a fountain of liquid chemicals running over fractured chlorimite chips. The sculpture’s water made little rainbows as it spilled into a trough. Stygyn was not known for it’s esthetics, but every planet, even the most harsh ones, had some form of art. The fountain was far enough away that it did not confound his mental facilities enough to interfere with the Force, but he could feel the notable dizzying affect of the raw mineral when he had walked by. A reminder that chlorimite should be avoided whenever possible on this mission.

Perhaps his slight confusion was the reason he had not noticed a short, stout, green Stygyn take a seat next to him at the table. When he turned to glance at the walking path in front of the pub, he was surprised that the little man had joined him.

“I am Todot.”

Jinn placidly gave the being a covert nod. “Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“I was told there would be more.”

“My Apprentice will be here shortly.”

“Only one?” The little being looked around nervously. “We need more than two Jedi.”

“We are only here to talk.”

“My people need more than talk,” Todot growled impatiently. “They have been enslaved for generations. The Jedi promise justice. Where is the justice in slavery?”

Before Jinn could reply a group of four Rigelian troopers rushed into the patio. He had to blame the chlorimite for shielding his Force abilities. There was no warning of danger and no time to react as the soldiers grabbed Todot. Before they could seize him, he was on his feet, lightsabre drawn and activated.

***

Since their mission here was supposed to be secret, Obi-Wan did not extract his sabre while running through the streets. When he reached the small eatery where he was to meet Jinn, though, he had his hand under his dark cloak and on the hilt of the weapon. He heard the zing of a blade slicing through the air as he flew into the bar.

Jinn was facing off with two large Rigelians in guard uniforms. One more was advancing on the Jedi while another was literally standing atop two Stygyns who were prone on the ground. It was hardly a scene to worry the experienced young Jedi, who had been in many life-threatening situations and battles. While he felt a wave of disorientation hit him, he ignored it, assessing the elements of the fight as he instinctively moved into a strategic position. What alarmed him was the noticeably weak of Bond connection even though he was in sight of his Master.

There was no time to worry about the details and he waded into the fight, taking on one of the huge Rigelians and slicing the being’s hand so his knife-weapon dropped to the ground. He never felt the danger, never had any warning when a sharp pain tore through his arm and he dropped his saber. He collapsed to the ground, blurrily horrified that his Master was also folding to the dirt. Something long and thin was sticking out Qui-Gon’s chest. Then all sound and sight faded into blackness.

***

Before he opened his eyes, Qui-Gon knew he was in serious trouble. His body ached from rough treatment of some unspecified nature. Skin scraped against sharp, rough projectiles that dug into his back even through his clothes. His lungs felt gritty from poor atmosphere and the angle in which his large body was wedged into an uncomfortable and awkward position. The center of his chest throbbed from pain. The most alarming negative of all was the cushion of nullness around his senses -- his Force senses. Except for a low level of “humming” of the Bond connection with Obi-Wan, he could “feel” nothing of his Apprentice. Nor could he detect any threats nearby.

Feeling robbed and exposed -- stripped of Jedi defenses and skills -- he knew he had to rely on normal skills and senses to survive whatever had befallen them. Taking an inward measure of courage, he opened his eyes.

The cavern was dark, dusty and rough. An opening at one end provided a circle of light and showed there was only one obvious way out of the cave. Dust made the illumination a rusty-gray. Several Stygers, in chains, were huddled nearby against the walls of the cave. Qui-Gon noted his own wrists were shackled by neural bands. The wrist-cuffs were imbedded into the nervous system and made it impossible, even for a Jedi, to remove them.

One lanky form on the ground was all too familiar and he scrambled over, his knees scraping against the jagged rock as he knelt by his Apprentice. Twice he fell on the short journey. The mineral was disorienting his balance. It was also slowing his ability to think clearly. Or was that because of his injuries? His head ached as badly as everything else. Speculation was useless. The important thing was to make sure Obi-Wan was all right. Then they could tackle their predicament together.

“Obi-Wan?” he whispered. He gently shook the shoulder of the youth.

Slowly the Padawan awoke. “Master?”

“Shhh. We have been captured.”

“Great,” he sighed groggily as he blinked his eyes and regained more of his equilibrium. “What happened?”

“We were on Stygyn.”

“Right.” He slowly nodded. “The tavern. Fight. More than just an argument about a bar bill, huh?”

“Yes,” the Master dryly confirmed, amazed and appreciative that his Padawan could maintain his normal caustic nature in this grim situation. It somehow helped stabilize him knowing Obi-Wan was his constant fixed point in a perilous and unpredictable universe.

The youth seemed to be having trouble focusing. “Dizzy.”

Jinn nodded in sympathy. “The radiation.”

“Where are we? Besides in a prison.”

“I believe this cave is composed of chlorimite crystals. Therefore, I would guess -- ”

“The moon of Stygyn.” He grimaced and rubbed his eyes. “Where they use slave labor to extract the crystals.” He sneered at the bands around his wrists. “Great.” Obi-Wan studied their still unconscious companions. “So are we to be considered conscripted slave labor?”

“Probably.”

“What would the Rigelians want with Jedi slaves?”

In the few moments Jinn had been conscious he had fleetingly wondered that and a variety of other less savory speculations about why they were imprisoned. And what would become of them. Their fate seemed dark indeed without the power of the full Force to help.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Jinn contemplated darkly. “This is a wild outpost beyond the rim worlds. Jedi are fair game. We could be no more than common workers to them.”

Kenobi slapped the crystalline walls and grimaced at the sharp minerals. “Aside from even personally speaking, that seems a waste of material.”

Jinn tried to hide his anxiety behind a mask of objectivity. “It would be risky to capture two Jedi unless they had enormous control over us. But I agree with you, it does seem a waste of our abilities.”

“Perhaps they mean to ransom us?”

“The Jedi Council would never pay a tribute.”

Kenobi frowned. “No, but we don’t have to tell the Rigelians that.” His voice dropped. “I can’t contact you through the Bond, Master!”

With a grim nod, the elder Jedi agreed. “Besides affecting us physically and disturbing our ability to connect with the Force, the chlorimite is disrupting the Bond.”

“What can we do?”

Frowning, Jinn tried not to convey the concern he felt at the loss of control of the Force powers along with their Bond contact. A Jedi without the ability to channel the Force was vulnerable. They had been in similar peril before, but had always had the Bond to fall back on, to aid them through any hazard. Captured and robbed of their unique skills left them appallingly susceptible.

“I don’t know. Yet.” He looked at the brave young man and inwardly cringed with guilt. He had brought them to this. His grand scheme to aid the helpless, to champion the defenseless. When would he learn he could not save the whole galaxy? Especially at the price of their lives. “I apologize, Obi-Wan. I miscalculated.”

The young man nodded sympathetically, but before he could respond, further the shimmering force field at the end of the cave sparked and dissolved. Three Rigelians entered and started prodding Stygers toward the opening. One of them poked Obi-Wan with a shock-lance and the Apprentice yelped, rolling away from another attack. Without the Force, they were also, obviously, defenseless against anticipating assault.

Before the guard could act again Jinn, careful not to appear aggressive, but acting as a shield between the threatening guard and his Apprentice.

“You aren’t interested in the young Human,” he ordered with a wave of his hands, hoping some residual Force power would instill the suggestion into the Rigelians.

The guard ignored him and lunged at him with the lance. Obi-Wan used the diversion to slip past them and try to disarm the second enforcer. Without the aid of Jedi powers, it was a quick and easy task for the sentry to wrestle his weapon from Kenobi and stab him with the shocking spear.

Jinn knocked past his enforcer and smashed the back of the Rigelian attacking his Padawan, hitting the neck with a mighty chop of his fists. The beast stumbled against the wall. Kenobi staggered to his feet and grabbed onto the lance, wrestling for possession of the weapon. Two of the guard’s thick arms whacked him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. Jinn had hold of the other end of the lance and kicked the Rigelian in the face, pushing him to the floor.

With his hands, bound Qui-Gon used his feet and head to keep the guard down, but with four arms, the Rigelian had a huge advantage. By then the other sentry was on his feet. Before the Jedi could take possession of the lance both the guards were on him, beating him with their fists until he released the lance. Then they turned on him and stabbed him with their lances.

Shocks of fire sizzled through his body, along his nerves and bones, paralyzing him with pain. He was aware of Kenobi tackling through the guards, trying to free him, but with the intense pain, blindness separating him from the Bond, he could hardly tell what was happening.

At last, the throbbing agony eased, and huddled against the floor of the cave, he trembled. In a daze of ache, he watched as a guard started to drag away his Apprentice.

“No,” he croaked, struggling to come up on one elbow. Blood dripped into his mouth and his right eye. Every bone and muscle shivered with hurt. “No. He is a Jedi. There would be little use for him in the mines.”

The nearest guard prodded him with the shock-lance. “We have you, Jedi,” he growled. “The small one will be of more use in the mines with the Stygers.”

“If you want one Jedi,” Jinn reasoned as he sat up and leaned against the rough, cold stone wall. “Then two Jedi are more valuable.”

“Two Jedi are more dangerous.”

Kenobi was dragged into his view. The youth was unconscious, scraped, but still breathing. If they were separated, their chances for escape became dramatically decreased. If his Padawan were taken into the mines, he would have little chance for survival without the Force. Renowned for his diplomatic skills, Qui-Gon had to make them concede this point. It meant their very existence.

He held up his still shaking hands, the glowing neural bands a shimmering testament to his helplessness. “We have no power against you. Isn’t it to your advantage to keep both of us safe for now?” He nodded toward the youth. “My apprentice is small. He is defenseless without the Force. He could be no threat.”

The lead guard, the one he had attacked, pointed at the base of his neck with the shock lance. “The Consul has ordered you to her chamber. We will take the young one along. She will decide. And if you cause more trouble . . . .”

The lance barely touched his neck and he jolted from the wave of pain burning through every cell. By the time his breath returned he was being dragged away and out of the cave. The only concession, he thought as he struggled to his feet so he could walk along with his captors, was that Obi-Wan was being dragged along, too. At least they were still together.

‘Master?’

Obi-Wan!’

The Bond was with them. It was more of a whisper in his mind than the usual strength of their solid connection, but it was there. He tried to communicate statements, but he felt no thoughts in return. Outside the cave, in the pale, grey, dusty sunlight of Stygyn’s distant sun, this moon was a rock of chlorimite. But in the murky air and tangerine rays of the large, dominating sun, the affects of the mineral were diminished. He could feel tendrils of the Force returning to his mind and strengthening his body.

Again he tried to contact Obi-Wan, but could not receive more than an impression of his name. So, no complex plots could be communicated, but at least they could send sense-waves. They knew each other well enough to make good use of this slight advantage. Usually they had more than just the minimal hint of bond power to aid them. In this desperate situation they would have to rely on what little they had to gain their freedom.

***

Rigelian society was based on a military structure -- from the top government officials to the lowliest slave-guards. The Consul must be the ruling authority for this region, Jinn theorized. Once outside the dungeon he took stock of the camp on this small moon in the multi-planet system. The guards were either in the hut-like buildings made of thin slate-rock, or there were few in the compound. The three Rigelians guarding his Apprentice and him seemed to be the most concentrated force in sight. There were a few others engaged with maintenance of various droids or vehicles, and a few walking alongside a string of bound Styger prisoners, but otherwise very few sentries. Why not? The Stygers were no match for the overpowering larger beings. He docketed away the information, feeling this might give them an edge. Many times in his career he had gained the upper hand by being underestimated by his opponents.

A glance back at his Padawan assured him Kenobi had regained more of his alertness than he was letting on to their captors. The youth’s keen and astute green eyes were darting furtively to assess their environs.

‘Lightsabres,’ came Obi-Wan’s disjointed message.

If only we had them, Jinn mused. He sent back an impression of confidence and hope. ‘All will be well, Padawan,’ he assured with a rather forced optimism.

He wasn’t sure how much of his meaning was received, but at his next glance back Kenobi gave him a nod.

The consul’s office stretched back into a long, narrow hut that might have formerly been a mine. Jinn should have learned more about the culture, but he thought Obi-Wan had done some studies indicating the Rigelians quickly went through their resources and stripped the moons of their assets by ravaging the minerals until the mountains were empty, then moving on to other areas. At this rate they would leave the system desolate in a few generations. Then they would probably move on to other quadrants, leaving what was left of the Stygyn civilization in ruins.

“It is a great fortune to have a Jedi in my camp.”

Not in the best of shape mentally or physically, Jinn took a moment to sort out his thoughts to respond to that comment. He was still unbalanced with his limited Force ability and had no trouble acting the part of the subdued captive.

“It does not seem so fortunate, Consul. You treat us as prisoners.”

The Rigelian version of a sneer was the showing of her three rows of teeth. “So you are. No Jedi would be of use to me out of these restrains. This way I can control you.”

“You have captured us. You do not control us,” he countered sternly.

“As long as you are chained you belong to me just as any other slave, Jedi.”

To demonstrate she touched a wrist controller and searing pain sizzled through Jinn’s nerves. Collapsing to the ground he saw his Apprentice, also in pain, was writhing on the floor. After a time the pain subsided and Jinn was propped up between two Rigel guards.

The Consul waved two arms at him. “I have heard stories that Jedi have limited Force when exposed to the chlorimite. Is this true?”

Qui-Gon refused to answer. Three more agony-wracked neural promptings left him gasping for air, sick and dazed with all consuming ache. Glancing with blurry eyes at his apprentice, he was appalled that the youth was so still. Only after intense scrutiny did he determine that Kenobi was still breathing.

A flash of warning crept at his senses just an instant before something hit him across the back with enough force to cause him to cough out a groan. Vision irised to gray, then black, then back to gray.

“I think that answers my question, Jedi. You are a very stubborn man.” The Consul walked over to stare at him closely. “When I learned my guards had brought in two Jedi with the latest batch of slave labor, I knew this was a rare opportunity. Production for my mine will become the greatest on this moon with your powers to aid me. We work on commission through production volume, you know,” she told him conversationally. “And you will help me become the best and richest mine on this moon.”

Refusing to respond before had been extremely distasteful, but what could he say now except more refusals that would certainly anger her? On the other hand, the terrible neural attacks on his system, and obviously Obi-Wan’s, were devastating. They would never recover enough strength to fight back at this rate.

Fortunately, she did not require a reply this time. “The key to production is slave efficiency. You will help me control the slaves, Jedi.”

The ludicrous idea had to be stopped no matter what the cost to his endurance. “No, I will not.”

She touched the wrist-controller again and he nearly passed out from the agony.

“You will, Jedi. You will feel much more cooperative when I allow you some comforts.”

Motioning for the guards to help him up, she waited until he was on his feet, supported by two Rigelians. He tried to contact his Padawan through the Bond, but there was silence from the youth. Obi-Wan had seriously suffered from the neural attack.

“Your mind tricks can help the Stygers increase their efficiency. And convince them that revolts are a waste of time. When I allow you away from the chlorimite affects, you will manipulate their thinking.”

Her ideas about Jedi and the Force were like comic caricature myths that floated around the galaxy. Obviously she didn’t know anything about the true nature of the Force or the Jedi.

“No.”

“I think you will change your mind, Jedi.”

“I will not assist you with your vile practice of slavery.”

“A night in the mines will change your mind, Jedi.”

She motioned for the guards to take him. Working in the mines. With his disorientation, his diminished physical state, the prospect was not good. Dragging him away, he tried to resist when he realized they were leaving Obi-Wan behind. His anxiety over the situation mounted to alarm. What were they going to do with his Padawan? If he took too much notice, would it be detrimental to Kenobi? Or to both of them because it would certainly reveal his vulnerability in his concern for his Padawan. Showing weakness, however, seemed the lesser of two evils when the alternative was leaving his Apprentice at the mercy of these monsters.

He dug his heels in and the resistance surprised his guards enough to falter. The Force was returning and he knew it was a mistake to show so much strength and power. There was no choice, however, he had to protect his Padawan. He shrugged out of their grasp. “What about my Apprentice?”

The guards seized him again and roughly started to take him away, but she stopped them.

“He is a youngling,” she dismissed and negligently kicked the youth. “His powers are no match for yours, Master Jedi. And of little use to me. He will be taken to the moon ridges where we use the smallest slaves to crawl through the crystal mine shafts.”

Her head tilted in thoughtfulness. Jinn knew then he had objected too much, shown too much concern. She had him, had found his vulnerability. His only advantage was that she didn’t have a real comprehension for the Bond between he and his Padawan. Or what he was capable of doing to save Obi-Wan.

“He is small. He will not last long climbing through the crystal tubes to extract the prime gems. The rocks slice through Styger scales so fast they only last one or two moon phases.” She poked Kenobi’s face with her four-fingered hand. “By then the radiation will have cooked his brain. There will be nothing left of him but a shell. In three sunrises the raw gems will have carved through this soft skin and we will have to feed him to the carrion beasts in the wastelands.” She stared at Jinn for a moment. “That is what we do with the rubbish we have no use for. And a Jedi who will not cooperate and use his powers is no better than a slave.”

Gulping down the knot in his throat he knew this was a moment he had long dreaded. A dilemma that would force him to choose between his Padawan’s life and some unspeakable alternative. Crawling through crystal tubes would mean Kenobi would be robbed of his ability to access the Force; disoriented and bled to death over the course of a few of their days. Jedi mandates would never accept giving in to terrorists and criminals. The Jedi Code, however, was an abstract list of ethics that sounded fine in the Temple, but were they more important than the life of his Apprentice?

“He is young --“

“He is your responsibility, Master Jedi. You decide his fate. He spends the last few sunrises of his life working the crystal tubes. Or you cooperate and he is allowed to work the mines.”

“If you want my help, why not utilize two Jedi --“

“Two Jedi are dangerous, Master.”

“But you have the neural bands and the chlorimite to control us.”

She waved two of her arms. “I don’t trust you. So what will it be, Jedi?”

The time factor was critical. The intense radiation in the crystal mines deadly. He had to play along, gain their confidence, and then move as quickly as possible to free Obi-Wan and himself.

“Allow my Apprentice to work outside the mines. I will assist you in controlling your slaves. Once you come to trust us, then allow my Apprentice to assist me.” Her eyes narrowed, but at least she did not immediately object. “Once we have optimized your production, then we would still be alive and you could release us.”

This brought a raucous laugh from the Consul. After she calmed down, she admitted his amusing plan was brash, but without hope of fulfillment. Once a slave always a slave. Then he reminded her that the Jedi Council would not stand still for long while two members of the Order were captured as slaves. This gave her serious pause.

“The Jedi could not defeat our security forces.” Her manner was not nearly so belligerent and confident as before.

Jinn gave a non committal nod. “It might, however, be in your best interest to keep us in good condition.”

This brought another wave of laughter from her, but the glittery, small eyes were wary. “You entertain me, Jedi. That is a good thing. You will be my overseer’s assistant. Your Apprentice will work the galley. If production increases significantly within the next moon phase then you will both be rewarded. If not, you will both go to the mines.”

As he was led away he breathed a sigh of relief that Obi-Wan was dragged along at the same time. His joy was short lived when they took Kenobi to a dungeon, while Qui-Gon went on to the Rigelian living quarters. In his small, barred room, the floors were smooth and the walls made of an amalgam of off-planet stones. They would not waste the precious chlorimite on building materials. The disorientation of the radiation was not immediately fading and he settled into a patchy meditation session.

In the sanctuary of his calm center he had little success with connecting to his usual mental levels. Fighting the dizziness that was a constant ache, using his powers to lift a rock or move the material on his sleeve was straining. He expended all his limited energy and could barely do anything with the Force. Worse than that, he tried, and failed, to communicate with his Apprentice. The Warrior Bond was as affected as the Force. He could not contact Obi-Wan.

***

As an assistant to the overseer, Jinn was able to work outside the mines and for the first morning was frustrated that there was no immediate return of his health and Force abilities. At sunrise he had been reunited with Kenobi and both brought out to the main camp where they were instructed on their duties. Qui-Gon was sore, limping and hunched from his injuries, but at least his mind was clearing.

Pale and weak, Obi-Wan gamely trudged to his assignment in the kitchens. Jinn then accompanied the overseer to the rows of slaves who were just starting into the mines. Obviously, there was a lot about Jedi that the Rigelians did not know. One was that the mind tricks would not work on all beings. The Stygers might seem inferior to the Rigelians, but they were as intelligent and independent as many other species. Their physical disadvantage in comparison to their captors had proven their downfall. It didn’t mean they were weak-minded or simpletons. Jedi mind power might not work with them. How long before the Consul figured that out? Long enough, hopefully, for Jinn to form a plan and get Kenobi and him out of here.

As the rows of prisoners went into the mines, Jinn noted the Rigelian guards became quickly distracted. It was a boring job and there had probably never been few rebellions here. Certainly no successful ones. He kept that in the back of his mind as he pretended to help one of the guards. In the forefront of his thoughts was reconnecting with the Force and the Bond. All morning he felt impressions and sensations from his Apprentice, and he was heartened that their link was slowly returning, but with diminished power. Just as weakened as the Force.

All day Jinn tested himself in little trials that the guards would not notice. His abilities were returning slowly, but he did not have his normal level of power. One thing he did test, was sending force suggestions to the Stygers. Interestingly, he found he could give them impressions and suggestions that they understood. That meant they might actually be Force-sensitive on a low level, but rarely had the opportunity to practice Force impressions because of their proximity to the crystals.

‘Master?’

It was all he could do to restrain the smile that beamed inside him. ‘My Padawan!’

‘The Bond is back.’

It was nearly mid-day and Jinn stopped to lean on a pile of jumbled rocks. It seemed that anything was possible now. As if a missing half of his mind and soul was suddenly returned. ‘Are you well?’

‘Regaining strength by the minute. I think when we are away from the chlorimite long enough we return to normal. At least with the Bond. I am still limited with accessing the Force.’

‘So am I. How do you feel?’

‘Not completely back to my usual standards, Master.’

A typical understatement probably. The chlorimite radiation might linger for a long time. Perhaps it would not go away at all? he worried.

‘You worry too much, Master.’

Chagrined at his failure to shield his anxiety, he humbly countered, ‘I apologize again, Obi-Wan, for this debacle. Please forgive me.’

‘Nothing to forgive, Master. I followed you willingly.’

Characteristic of the incredible Kenobi, he was generous and blindly loyal. ‘Then I hope you will continue to do so while I get us out of this.’

‘Gladly, Master. What is your plan?’

‘The guards are extremely lax. There are only two rotations that I have observed all day. At sunset, when the Stygers emerge from the mines, we will instigate a revolt.’

‘Inciting a revolution. Something new to my list of credits.’

‘You, my flippant Padawan, are a vital key to our success.’

‘Wonderful, Master. What do I do? How do I escape from my kitchen duties? I am to throw food at the guards?’

‘Not exactly. I want you to serve food to the Stygers.”

“That’s all?”

“No. I have discovered the Stygers are receptive to the Force.’

‘Then how do I incite a riot?’

‘I want you to give Force suggestions to every Styger you see to day. Every one you serve food to or come in contact with. Just a few simple ideas to implant into their minds.’

‘What?’

‘When the alarm sounds for the evening meal, attack any Rigelian.’

‘That’s your plan?’

Jinn was a little miffed. ‘Do you have a better one?’

‘No. It just seems so -- so -- unpretentious.’

’When the chains of oppression are broken, our work will be done for us.’

His mental comments continued, reminding that they had few options and he was always open to a better idea if his pupil thought he had one. Amused, but subdued, Kenobi’s voiceless response was that he would certainly let his Master know if such a plan came to him.

***

When the second shift of Stygers lined up for the mine duty, Jinn again pushed his limited Force power into their minds. All day he had received various responses in return to his suggestions. Now, he came up against thoughts of cold, harsh hatred. The emotions startled him and he looked into the face of Todot, his original contact back on Stygyn.

“Jedi,” the man whispered, slightly bowing his battered head. “I thought you had come to help.”

A Rigelian guard approached and slammed Todot away with a blow of his stinging vibro-stick. Then he swung and slapped the shocking lance onto Jinn’s shoulder. Almost instantaneously, the neural bands on his wrists sizzled and he dropped to his knees in pain.

“You are not to talk with the prisoners!” the Rigelian shouted at him. “You are to control them!”

Qui-Gon was within a heartbeat of striking back. With the accumulated force that had returned to him he could do it. He could even, possibly, block out the pain of the neural bands long enough to strike back and knock out the guard. He sensed the second blow coming and he chose to do nothing. The vibro-lance hit again and he weathered the agony, shivering with pain. If he fought back now it would be too soon. It would precipitate the riot he had so meticulously planned. He could not allow that -- the turn-about in power was their only hope.

‘Master!’

‘Do nothing, Obi-Wan! Do nothing!’

Gasping, he kept his damaged body on the dirt, against his nature he remained deliberately subdued, instincts and training contained the Force that had returned. With fierce determination he allowed himself to be overwhelmed, beaten. Now he used the Force to insulate the worst of the hurt. He accessed the strength of the Warrior Bond that Obi-Wan was sending to him and used it to overcome the pain. Physically he was in captivity, used and abused as a slave. His strength, though, the real chain of power in his life, was the link to his Padawan and the might he shared in the Bond.

Satisfied that he had learned his lesson, the Rigelian guard kicked Jinn aside and ordered him to continue helping with the slaves. Struggling to his feet, Qui-Gon returned to his duties, supposedly using his Jedi powers to influence the Stygers for the Rigelians. Instead, he fervently advocated revolt.

***

As the day wore on Jinn continued implanting suggestions. His wounds were annoying and every bit of his body seemed sore, but he used the strength of the Warrior Bond to draw added vitality from Kenobi, who seemed to be healing steadily. He made sure to limit his borrowed energy, because Kenobi would relinquish all vigor to him without being asked.

The suggestions were understood by those small numbers of Stygers who did not stay deep in the mines, but were in and out, not constantly under the influence of the dampening clorimite crystals. Jinn encouraged the slaves to work harder, while he also transferred the idea of attacking the guards at sunset. Since the Stygers were intelligent beings, many suspected some kind of mind tricks on his part, but were too cowed by authority, or too afraid of the guards, to comment. It made Jinn wonder if the rash and overly simple plan would work.

Keeping his eye on the burnished orb of sun, Jinn prepared himself and his Apprentice for the rapidly approaching moment of truth. He was counting heavily on the cooperation of the Stygers. If they failed, if the Force message did not convince the slaves -- if the Force was not strong enough to convey his desperation and urgency -- then all was lost. If they failed they would be killed outright at worse, sent to the deadly mines at best. Therefore, they could not fail.

When the end-of-day alert sounded, Jinn moved to the mouth of the main mine where the majority of the slaves would gather. He used the Bond to contact Obi-Wan and alert him to prepare for the revolt.

The Force had returned to acceptable levels, and through it he sensed the rising surge of anger and violence emanating from the Styger slaves. Within that emotional wave he also realized he had miscalculated the tide of hatred bottled behind the enslaved masses. The Stygers swarmed into the guards like an wave. The surprised sentries were no match for the enraged captives, who overran the soldiers, seizing their weapons, and slaying every Rigelian in sight.

Horrified at what he had instigated, Jinn tried to stop the mob, but he was literally thrust aside, beaten back, by the Stygers. In the melee he could not find his Apprentice, and knew from the Bond connection that the Padawan was somewhere in the tangle of violence.

Still not in the best of health, Qui-Gon could not fight against the mob, and dazed, collapsed into a corner of a shed. He called out in his mind for Kenobi to protect himself. The slaughter moved into every building and tunnel. Every Styger was freed and every Rigelian killed.

‘Master!’

Disturbing, desperate thoughts blasted into his senses. Kenobi was swept up in the midst of the rage and death.

‘Obi-Wan! Have a care! I am coming.’

The call drove the wounded Master to his feet and he staggered through the raging rioters and dead bodies. A few Mad Stygers tried to attack him and he repulsed them easily, pushing them aside to reach his Apprentice.

Kenobi was against the wall of the cantina, battling away Stygers who were whipped into a frenzy of killing anyone in their path. Jinn called on his Force for added strength and flung the rioters away from the building to reach his Padawan. Barely able to stand, Kenobi managed a grateful nod and slid down to the ground in exhaustion.

“Obi-Wan? Are you hurt?”

It was a dazed, foolish question considering there was blood trickling from his head and mouth. “All right. You don’t look too well though, Master.”

Jinn slid down to join him on the dirt. “No.” Darkly he watched the mob ramble through the mining camp destroying everything they could get their hands on. “No, I don’t’ feel well at all.”

“You had no idea this would happen.”

“No. I came to Stygyn to help. This was not what I had in mind.”

“You save our lives.”

“At what cost to these people?” He studied his Apprentice, hating to suggest his next idea, knowing what Obi-Wan’s response would be. “I have to try and stop this.”

The young man nodded, “I know.”

***

Jinn and Kenobi found Todot wounded, limping, but still reveling in the triumph of the victory. He and his close allies were in the Consul’s office, the dead Consul lying in a heap in the far corner of the room.

“Todot, you must stop the violence.”

“My people must have their day, Jedi Master. Centuries of hate have culminated in success. We have you to thank.” Jinn winced at the supposed compliment. “Now we must continue the fight and retake Stygyn.”

“The Rigelians will destroy you,” Obi-Wan predicted.

Todot smiled with an evil shadow covering his face. “Not through battles, good Jedi. We will destroy them with their own goods. We control the chlorimite on this moon, now.”

“In victory you must find mercy,” Jinn pleaded reasonably.

Todot’s cold eyes said more than his words. “The time for mercy has passed.”

***

Jinn tried to appeal to other Stygers, but was dismayed to find Todot as the most reasonable one of the ex-slaves. All others were out for blood and destruction of the Rigelians. While the Stygers were still in the grips of their reign of terror, Jinn and Kenobi managed to slip away and find a hanger full of Rigelian spacecraft. Liberating a small star cruiser, they lifted off and set a course for a system away from Rigelian space.

“What will we do, Master?” Kenobi’s quiet voice filled the small cockpit of the Rigelian fighter.

Jinn concentrated flying the ship. “We will leave. I will appeal to the Council to help negotiate a peace without slavery, but I do not think a Master and an Apprentice are enough for the job. It will require far more influence than you and I can wield to the Rigelians or the Stygers.”

There were really two sets of slaves they were fighting against. Rigelians chained to greed and power. Stygers chained to hate and vengeance. Perhaps a delegation of Jedi and even some representatives from the Republic could help these two races find a balance. Bitterly, he had to concede that it was more than he could manage with just his Padawan at his side. Not for the first time, he was face to face with the reality that Jedi powers could not free the galaxy of it’s various ills. He did, reaffirm, though, that his own chains -- bonds -- with the Force and his Apprentice -- once more save him.

THE END

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