Title: Brink

Author: Syntyche

Rating: A strong T. Violence, mild language, gore, disturbing images.

Disclaimer: Not mine, but how I love to play with them. I'm not making any money off of this, but I wish I were because then I would have more time to write and watch Ewan McGregor movies.

Reviews: Read, enjoy, and review, please!

Obi torture with resultant Qui angst: Heavy. You know I love it.

Author's Qui-Gon Disclaimer: I feel so weird. I didn't make him an ass in this fic. And it feels good. lol.

Synopsis: You did not think when you pushed me to the brink…

OoOoOoOoOo

Brink

By: Syntyche

One: Little Lion Man

They were coming toward them, their lavender gossamer skirts swirling airily about their long, athletic legs. Their faces were set in a determined grimace that did not bode well for their prey, the two men halted at the end of the corridor by thick durasteel doors blocking their entry to the docking bay.

"Obi-Wan!"

His Master's voice was calm but with an undercurrent of firmness: Qui-Gon needed time, enough of it to get them past the sealed doors to where their freedom - a small Council shuttle - waited patiently for them to return.

Obi-Wan Kenobi spun his lightsaber experimentally, enjoying the pulse of adrenaline thrumming through his lithe body, the warm humming of his lightsaber singing in his ears as the glowing blade sliced swiftly through the air, a warning blur of blazing blue.

His visible display of preparation slowed the approaching warriors, giving them what he felt was ample time to retreat or seek a solution other than to attack, but they continued to advance: they had been sent to stop the Jedi in whatever way necessary, and they were the Absarti, the elite. Two Jedi against one Absarti would be a fight, but a fight still lost. Two Jedi against the ten Absarti now closing on them would be a mercifully quick death for the Jedi, and the women were prepared to cut their guests down without mercy.

The Absarti were female, all of them, hand chosen by their jesh. They would not fail him.

Qui-Gon Jinn's large, steady hands flew over the mess of circuitry showing beneath the burnt edges of the panel he had deftly removed from the wall with the help of his own jade lightsaber. Either of the Jedi could easily have rerouted the power needed to force the docking bay doors open, but Qui-Gon had set to the task immediately, leaving Obi-Wan to delay their pursuers as long as possible. It had been an easy choice for the Jedi Master - Qui-Gon chose compassion first and always, and right now they couldn't afford to be compassionate even to the women they had laughed and talked with mere hours before. They had to get the information they'd obtained from the jesh back to the Senate.

That left the dirty work to Obi-Wan, whether he wanted it - which he didn't - or not.

The Absarti closed the gap steadily, advancing as one.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon snapped, glancing back at his apprentice, "I need you to distract them!"

"Distract those women?" Obi-Wan looked surprised for a minute, then nodded grimly, powering down his lightsaber and reaching for his belt. "I'm on it, Master," he announced crisply, his fingers flying as he unhooked the belt around his hips. His actions caught Qui-Gon's attention fully and the Jedi Master could see his Padawan's laughing eyes as he realized what Obi-Wan was doing. Battle humor had always clung to Obi-Wan as his natural defense against danger, and Qui-Gon suspected it was easiest way for the young man to distance himself mentally from the violence that was a norm in his young life.

That didn't stop him from sputtering a gasp as Obi-Wan went for the ties on his cream tunic.

"Obi-Wan!"

He caught sight of Obi-Wan's teasing grin - stretched now so wide his dimples were showing - and Qui-Gon shook his head as he covered his amusement with a stern, longsuffering frown.

"What, were you raised by wolves, Obi-Wan?"

"No," Obi-Wan laughed, swinging the belt back around his slim waist easily, reaching again for his lightsaber. "I was raised by you."