Remembrance

By B. L. Lindley-Anderson

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 dragged 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. He sighed deeply. The officials did seem to be doing their job—efficiently and correctly—but slowly. Too slowly for the master's liking. However, he knew that his best chance of finding out if his padawan's ship was in the area, lay with the people who operated the sensing equipment in this system. So he sat back, closed his eyes and sought out comfort and peace from the force.

Obi-Wan slowly drifted into a state of semi-consciousness. He didn't move, didn't open his eyes. The apprentice didn't do anything to help wake himself. As a matter of fact, he deeply longed to go back to sleep. In sleep there was relief from his suffering. In sleep he didn't feel the pain. In sleep he didn't remember that he didn't remember. However, try as he might, sleep was elusive and the pain demanded to be acknowledged. Finally Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on his stomach under the rock ledge. He continued to lie there and just look out at his surroundings for several minutes. He recalled how stiff and sore he had become a night ago from sleeping on the hard stone and he was not anxious to begin another day of suffering. At last, however, the call of nature and his empty stomach convinced the apprentice that he would have to emerge from his rocky nest.

Oh so carefully and unhurried he drug himself from underneath the low shelf. Either his soreness was lessening or he was becoming used to it. The ache was still very much there, but it seemed as if he was somehow able to push it a little further back in his head. He didn't allow that to make him too confident, however. Obi-Wan was aware of the extent of his injuries and he wanted to do nothing that would worsen them. He could not afford anything else to hold him back. Soon he had to find someone to get help or food—or both from.

As long as he made small movements and made them gradually, the pain seemed to stay at the same level of misery. It didn't feel any better—but it didn't make it worse. Obi-Wan got to his feet and sought out some refuge from the sun to have something to eat and ready himself to continue on.

I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be he said to himself a short while later. Hefting the pack to his back brought groans to his lips and tears to his eyes. Instead of lingering over the pangs that echoed through his body, however, the apprentice turned his thoughts toward evaluating his environment.

It was obviously a dry climate. There was only scattered vegetation and what trees were there were short and gnarled. The rolling hills that rose on either side of the rutted were mostly bare rock. That reminded him of how important his water supply was. He had no idea where any ponds or lakes might be in this environment—indeed if there were any. However, if there were any creeks or rivers, the most likely place for them would be in a valley—where he was now walking. If there were naturally occurring water sources, Obi-Wan decided he was in a probable area to find one.

Having stumbled along the trail for as long as his battered body would tolerate, the padawan began looking around for a sheltered spot to rest when a glimmer caught his eye. Doing a double take, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep himself calm enough not to break into a dead run. Hobbling along at as rapid a clip as he injuries would allow, he almost broke into tears of relief as he came closer to—a stream! Water!

The apprentice cast his pack aside and staggered to the edge and fell to his knees. The impact resounded through his assaulted body—however, right now, that was the last thing on his mind. He immersed his head into the cool water—washing away the sweat and dirt and drank until he thought he would burst. The water was so wonderfully chilly—and wet! Hmmm, the padawan thought, just the thing to soothe my hurts. If it's cold enough, it might even numb them some.

He gingerly removed his Jedi garments and stepped into the nippy brook. As he walked to the middle, the rising level of cold liquid caused him to catch his breath. Very slowly and carefully he lowered himself into the water. He found he could comfortably sit on the streambed with the water coming almost to shoulder level. It was invigorating to the poor abused padawan. He closed his eyes and just relaxed. As he hoped, the temperature of the rushing water did help to deaden the ache that racked him. That was just the bruises, swelling and abrasions however. The inner injuries still assaulted him. Any reduction in pain he was grateful for, so he didn't complain, but merely enjoyed the respite.

After awhile, Obi-Wan knew that he would soon have to get moving again. As much as he hated the thought of leaving the oasis behind, he recognized that he still had to get back to civilization. Reluctantly he hauled himself from his wet perch and waded back to where he had dropped his clothes.

Obi-Wan was glad to be putting his clothes back on while his body was still somewhat numbed from the cold water. He remembered the friction between his abraded skin and the garments while disrobing earlier. While replacing the belt about his waist, the apprentice was reminded of the metal cylinder he had pulled from the wrecked landspeeder. He looked around for a place out of the sun and settled himself for a rest. He turned the cylinder around and around in his hands. There was that feeling in the back of his mind again—something just at the edge of his remembrance. There was something about this that he should recall—but it wouldn't come forward. He activated a switch on the side of the tube and blue flame shot forth. Startled, but somehow not totally surprised by what happened, the Obi-Wan stared at the flickering blue column of droning energy that sizzled the air as he drew it back and forth before his gawking eyes.

Suddenly, the padawan dropped the weapon and grabbed his head—more out of astonishment than pain. The feeling he'd had the day before—of someone else being in his head—was back. It was as if someone were trying to put words into his head. There seemed to be a presence there that was different from his own. Something foreign, intruding. He tried to resist it—feeling that if he listened to it or gave ground to it, it would take him over. Losing his own memory was upsetting enough—this attempt of…whatever it was…trying to get into his head was terrifying. Obi-Wan forced himself to think on anything other than what was being fed into his head. Concentrate! Concentrate! You've got to beat this. Don't let it take you! By now the apprentice was rolling on the ground in his heated attempt to resist. Just as suddenly as it had come, the presence was gone. Gone without a trace. He was huffing and sweat was beaded on his forehead from his frantic battle. Obi-Wan just lay still on the ground to gather himself and to let his aching body relax.

Qui-Gon was startled out of his meditations. That was the strongest he had been able to sense his padawan in the force since this quest had begun. And what he sensed unsettled him greatly. Fear—intense fear was the only thing he had been able to sense. He felt more strongly now that wherever Obi-Wan was, he was in great trouble.

The governor's aide interrupted the Jedi's ruminations.

"Ah, we have some information for you now, sir. This is the chief of the crew that was working the sensory equipment on the shift when you project that your apprentice would have arrived in this system. He will be able to answer your questions."

The chief offered his hand to the Jedi and inclined his head. "Sir, I have rerun the data disks from my shift and we have no indication of a transport such as the Republic shuttle you mentioned. We have no record of such a ship landing at any of our spaceports. Neither is there a manifest on record as having come from Coruscant."

"How certain of you of your information?" Qui-Gon asked hollowly, his mind still on the fear he felt earlier.

" I thought you might be interested in that, under the circumstances. Here are the disks from the equipment check that my crew normally runs at the beginning of each shift. I have reviewed them and there were no equipment errors. Further, I looked at the equipment check run by the crew of the following shift. Again, everything checks out. I have checked every piece of data that I could think of to see if we could have missed the ship entering our atmosphere. I apologize for keeping you waiting, but with a missing person, I took the liberty of checking all possible sources of information to see if we could have missed his ship entering our atmosphere. I don't think we could have. We have extensive planet wide surveillance apparatus. It all checks out as being in proper operation." The chief hesitated and stole a glance at the aide before he continued. "I even checked our planetary seismography sensors."

"Seismography? What for?"

The chief coughed and cleared his throat, "Uh…in case there had been a…crash. Those sensors would have registered the impact." The sentence was left hanging.

"I see. It seems you have been very thorough in your investigation." Qui-Gon looked away as he weighed the implications. "I appreciate all you have done, chief. Thank you for your help."

The crew chief bowed shortly and hurried out without another word. Qui-Gon turned and walked to the window as he began to decide on his next course of action. He was having trouble seeing past the memory that had now burned into his mind of the pure horror that he had sensed from his padawan.

The aide was still present and he quietly asked, "Is there anything else that I can do to assist you, Master Jedi?"

"I can't think of anything, sir. It sounds as if your people have done all I could ask of them."

The aide paused to consider for a moment and then asked, "You are sure he came to this system? There are many systems in the galaxy and…"

"Yes," Qui-Gon interrupted, "I am quite sure he came here."

"I didn't mean to question the young man's integrity, it's just that…"

"No, you don't need to explain," Qui-Gon replied as he rubbed his drawn face with his hands. "I owe you an apology for being short with you. I'm just…worried." Now that he had put it in words for the first time, it seemed more real. It was no longer just an abstraction in his head, putting his apprehension in words had some how made it seem more likely. The Jedi closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. He needed to refocus himself instead of letting himself get carried away with his emotions right now.

"I certainly understand your concern. You need not apologize. You seem quite tired. Can I provide you with quarters for a short rest?"

Qui-Gon waved away the offer as he said, "Thank you, but I am afraid his life may be in danger. I don't have time for that right now."

"Well, is it possible then that he could have landed on another planet in this system? Perhaps he did arrive in this vicinity as you say—but for some reason he went to a planet besides Baroon or Loard."

Qui-Gon wanted to argue for his trust in his padawan, but realized that all the evidence was beginning to stack up against Obi-Wan being on either of these two planets. A ship can't come out of hyperspace too close to a planet. Obi-Wan would have had to give a wide berth to Loard and Baroon and travel the remaining distance at less than light speed. Perhaps his being on another planet in this system wasn't so far fetched at all.

Qui-Gon turned back to the aide and began, "I know there are eight planets in this system. We have seemingly eliminated his being on two of them. What can you tell me about the other six planets?"

"Well, four of the other six have been colonized by Baroon and Loard. Our two planets were the only ones in the system to have life, so we explored the other planets and populated what we could. The innermost planet, Mota, is too hot to support life, being so close to our sun. Rela, the eighth planet, is too distant and too cold for colonizing. The other planets have small populations. We can contact our bases on those planets to see if they have detected your lost ship." The aide stopped and considered a minute. "Hmmm…well, we can contact Asclu and Kavel, the fifth and sixth planets. Right now planets two and seven are on the other side of the sun from us. There are already millions of miles separating our planets and when they are on the opposite side of the sun, the distance more than doubles. Also, there is the possibility of interference with the signal from the electrical discharges of the sun's corona. We can try to communicate with Jastin and Narob—but I can't guarantee that we will be able to get through."

"It's a start," Qui-Gon conceded. "Can we commence soon?"

The aide crossed to a wall-mounted intercom and put in his request to the communications center for the required messages to be sent to the colonies.

"Now we must wait," he said quietly, as turned back to the Jedi master.

Qui-Gon turned back to the window and closed his eyes, reaching out…

Due to the fact that all types of emissions travel at the speed of light, communication with other planets is a quick process. For this, Qui-Gon was thankful. In only minutes the intercom was sounding. The aide punched a button next to it and exchanged words with the comm tech. Switching off the unit, he turned to face Qui-Gon.

"Asclu and Kavel both have reported no ship landings. As I said, they are sparsely populated. Most ships going there are supply or cargo ships which have very regularly scheduled runs. An unexpected ship would have stood out to them. I feel fairly certain that your apprentice isn't on either planet. I think we would know if he had landed at either spaceport."

Qui-Gon accepted the official's words without question. Then he pushed forward, "And what about the remaining two worlds?"

"It is as I feared. The coronal activity of our sun is disrupting our ability to contact Jastin and Narob. Storms in the atmosphere of the star cause immense clouds of ionized particles to be emitted into the space surrounding the body. It is a common phenomenon with stars. I'm sure you are familiar with it."

"Yes, I am. It is a problem all planets face because of the nature of stars." The Jedi turned and walked away from the aide as he thought. "I suppose I will be taking a trip across your system. I must go to these planets to see if Obi-Wan is there. Will there be a problem with that?"

"No, not at all. I will provide you with a letter of introduction to the governors of each planet. That should help things go more smoothly than if you just showed up unannounced."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon reached for the aide's hand. "You and your people have been very helpful to me. I appreciate the timeliness and magnitude of your assistance."

Once the apprentice had been able to collect his wits after that last assault on his mind, he had gathered his things and once more returned to the rugged pathway that he had been following for the last couple of days. He actually had been able to take his mind off his continued battle with pain. The memory of the battle that he felt he was waging for his mind was a fresh wound on his psyche. Obi-Wan had passed the time away wondering what that had been about. Was he losing his mind? Was it due to his concussion? Whatever the answer, it was a frightening prospect. Soon, however, his beaten body cried out for a rest and the physical pain once again took precedent. The exhausted and confused padawan located a cleft in one of the squat stony ridges and collapsed into a deep sleep without even taking the time for a meal.

Traveling in hyperspace was not the recommended practice inside a planetary system. Entering hyperspace and returning to normal space was a practice that required a lot of area to accomplish—one didn't want to enter normal space only to find a planet hanging in front of your windscreen. However, traveling at speeds just short of the speed of light still covered a lot of distance in a short time period. The millions of miles that Qui-Gon had to travel melted away like ice on a steamy Tatooine afternoon. He had chosen to visit Jastin, the second planet initially—simply because it was closer.

The Jedi had accepted the offer of a room for the night on Loard. He finally had to admit that he needed a decent night's rest. His conscience had pricked him at first—reminding him of the fear that he had felt from his padawan. However, he had been going at full tilt for 3 days with little rest and he knew that fatigue would soon begin to cloud his judgement. He certainly would be of no use to Obi-Wan if he started making major mistakes in the search for his apprentice. Having settled the argument with himself, the master settled into the room and meditated for a time to relax himself. Thinking sleep would come slowly he was surprised to find himself battling to keep his eyes open. The Jedi fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. When he had awakened this morning, Qui-Gon knew that he had made the right decision to take a break.

As Qui-Gon watched the tan, green, and blue sphere of Jastin grow larger in the viewing window of his ship, he thumbed the comm unit switch on the instrument panel and made contact with the spaceport. He received permission to land and was guided in quickly, since there was no other traffic waiting to make landfall.

The letter of introduction that had been provided by the government of Loard was very helpful to Qui-Gon. He found the local administration suspicious. As a colony, the majority of their off-planet contact was with Loard—and they had never met a Jedi knight before. The governor of the colony stared openly at the enigmatic tall figure in the flowing brown robe.

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, a Jedi knight and representative of the Republic, from the planet of Coruscant."

The governor's eyes narrowed as he listened to the master's words. "A Jedi? The Republic? What are you doing out here? If you have business with this colony, you'll have to go through our home planet of Loard."

"I have just arrived from Loard. They were unable to make contact with you because of the solar storm."

"Yes, we've had problems contacting Loard. The storm should pass in a day or so. You'll have to wait until then…"

"That won't be necessary," Qui-Gon interrupted, producing the letter. "I have a letter of introduction that was given to me by the governor of Loard." He passed the letter to the colonial administrator and waited patiently while he read.

"Very well," the official conceded. "The governor says that I am to cooperate with you. What do you want?"

The Jedi knight explained yet another time about his padawan and his mysterious disappearance. The bureaucrat seemed unimpressed with the story.

"What do you want from us? We know nothing of apprentices or Republic transports."

"You've had no contact with a ship then, other than your regular cargo ships from Loard?"

"No, no, nothing. Until you showed up. We've not had any ship land here in a week now."

"And you've had no equipment problems? You can account for all ships coming and going from this planet?"

"From this planet?" the governor said almost in disbelief. "We don't monitor the entire planet. Just our sector. Baroon has colonies here too. We don't keep up with what happens on their part of the planet."

Qui-Gon felt a surge of hope rush through him. "But, for your sector. You are certain that there's been no unexpected traffic?" He considered for a moment. "How about if a ship crashed? Would you be able to detect it?"

"We would have picked up any ship in the atmosphere over our sector. And I can tell you without even looking that there has been no traffic in the last week. Ships are a big deal out here—especially unexpected ones. I would have known if anything had been detected."

I'm wasting my time with him, Qui-Gon thought to himself. He has no desire to cooperate. "Very well, then, can you provide me with some form of transportation to the Baroon colonies?"

The governor sighed but thought that the best way to get this pest out of his hair was to give him what he asked for. "I can let you borrow a speeder. But not for long," he said shortly as he wagged a long bony finger at the Jedi. "I have a job to do, and I need that speeder to get it done." The administrator turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, "Wait here. I'll get someone to bring it round for you."

The master watched as the official stomped away and then he turned to attend his own worries. Once again Qui-Gon closed his eyes and concentrated on the force. Finally he had found a planet where there wasn't a definite "no" to the question of whether his padawan was on the planet or not. His hopes picked up a little at the thought that maybe he might finally be close to locating Obi-Wan.

As he sought the presence that he was so desperately pursuing, a surprise met him. The Jedi had located Obi-Wan's essence much quicker this time—and it was stronger than it had been before. Normally distance wasn't a determining factor in such. However, if it were true that the apprentice was not actively contacting the force—and that he may be injured or incapacitated in some way, then Qui-Gon wasn't certain of the full ramifications of that. He had not faced such a circumstance before. He was hopeful that it might be an indicator that he was in close proximity to Obi-Wan.

Master Qui-Gon's ponderings were interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Excuse me, sir." A stout young man in a worn navy blue uniform stood stiffly, waiting for acknowledgement.

"Yes?" Qui-Gon replied.

"The governor asked me to take you to the shed and get a speeder signed out to you. It's just over here. If you'll follow me please." The youth turned and began walking away. He spoke again without looking to see if the Jedi was with him or not. "Here is your map. This is our colony." He pointed at a large red star near the center of the map. "The thick dark lines outline our sector of the planet. The first Baroon colony is here and there are two others farther out. When you get to Colony One, they can direct you to the other settlements."

By this time the two men had arrived at the shelter. The younger man proceeded to a desk and laid a data tablet on it. "Governor Tolu has authorized this man to be given loan of a speeder.

The desk jockey picked up the tablet and lazily looked it over with half-closed eyes. All he was looking for was the familiar scrawl of the head official of the colony. Once he confirmed that, he initialed the tablet and handed it back to the young man along with a key card.

The uniform walked to an aged vehicle without a word to the waiting Jedi. However, Qui-Gon followed at once, beginning to learn how things were done around here. Opening the door of the vehicle the youth dully said, as if it were a practiced speech, "The governor has authorized you two days use of the vehicle. Each speeder is routinely stocked with emergency supplies since this is a semi-desert environment and settlements are so distant from each other. There is a comm link tuned to our emergency channel should you need any help."

Qui-Gon listened carefully and looked at the map during the oration. Checking the scale of the map, he said incredulously, "Two days? It will take almost half that time just to get to Colony One."

"I have my orders, sir. If you require the speeder for longer than that you must see the governor."

"Which will, no doubt, take at least the same amount of time," Qui-Gon quipped, though he was far from a joking mood. Without another word he climbed into the vehicle and sped away thinking to himself, if you want the speeder back in two days, Governor, then you may come and get it.

This morning had been the same for the padawan as the previous two. Awaking to renewed pain from sleeping on the cold hard rocks after a day of torturing his body rather than allowing it to heal. He was moving slower each day that passed. Instead of getting better, he was getting worse from the wear and tear of the journey. Obi-Wan found it very difficult to motivate himself this morning, so great was his pain and so fatigued was he. He thought about taking half a day to just rest. He knew it was risky. Limited supplies, no clue where the next village was—but he just couldn't encourage himself to go on. He soon quit thinking about whether to go or stay—and that made the decision for him. He pulled himself up for some breakfast and then just leaned back against the rock wall and rested. He would have liked to go back to sleep, but his aches wouldn't allow it. He just couldn't go on. What was he going to do? He was beginning to believe that he was going to die out here. His hope was slipping away fast, like the last sand in an hourglass.

He was content to stay where he was. He didn't move, not even a muscle twitch, for quite a long time. At long last the apprentice raised his head up and looked around. The sun was almost over head. Half a day was gone. He should get moving now. He'd had his rest, but his hope had not restored itself. There didn't seem to be any point in continuing and no amount of provocation seemed to be able to convince him to even get to his feet. The longer he stayed, the less he wanted to move. It was hopeless. He had no idea where he was or how to get to help. Even if he got help, then what? He didn't know who he was. What was he supposed to do with himself? Did he have a family? If so, where were they?

He had no idea what kind of skills he had. What kind of living could he make? So his every thought was drawn into a whirlpool of despair—spiraling down and down—being sucked into an abyss of dark hopelessness. A single tear slid down his parched cheek as the padawan began to wonder what his life had been like.

Qui-Gon had been traveling hard all day long. The only times he had stopped were to contact the force to see if there was anything else he could determine about his padawan. For most of the day he had not sensed much, just that Obi-Wan was still there in the force. However, later in the day he began to sense very strong feelings from the apprentice. Very strong negative feelings. He didn't try to intrude upon them, but merely sensed them and studied them. He was convinced Obi-Wan was on this planet and that he wasn't far away. Thus, he began to travel more carefully, looking out for signs that any person had been along this path.

Obi-Wan had moved little the entire morning. Finally he decided painful or not, he needed to get up and move around to work some of the stiffness from his body. The apprentice realized his mistake of not getting up earlier. Even if he had not traveled during the morning, he should have at least moved around. His muscles were taut and unyielding. Oh so slowly he began to flex his arms, gently bending each joint and gingerly rubbing the swollen areas. Gradually, deliberately, movement began to return. Then Obi-Wan began moving and massaging his legs. It was painful because of his injuries, but it was painful not to do it also. Silently he cursed his stupidity for allowing himself to get caught in this situation.

When at last Obi-Wan was able to get his feet under him, he rose using handholds on the rocks around him. He walked back and forth a few times. Frustrated at himself for his lack of foresight, for sinking into self-pity and for wasting a large part of the day, he decided to set out. Yes, it was late in the day, after midday. However, he now had gotten back at least a modicum of determination and not willing to let it go he determined to make some progress.

What the padawan was not able to see as he set forth on the trail was a speeder parked atop a ridge at the very edge of his range of vision and the tall man standing next to it.

Qui-Gon was scanning the area with the electrobinoculars that he had found in the speeder. Suddenly he spotted movement and trained the instrument on it. Is it? Yes! It's Obi-Wan! He leapt into the speeder and pointed it in the direction of the path his apprentice was following. As he traveled, the master reached out to touch Obi-Wan's thoughts—to let him know he'd been found.

Obi-Wan became aware of the presence in his mind again. No! Not again! What is happening? He clamped his hands on his aching head and tried to over ride the intruding thoughts. That's when he saw it—a speeder coming his way. Somehow he knew that what was going on in his head was related to the man in the speeder. All kinds of thoughts flashed through his head—speculations about the man and why he was torturing him this way. But one thought came to the forefront—this situation represented danger to him. He turned and tried to run back to the cave that he had spent the night in. It was the only shelter he had and it was better than being out here exposed this way.

Limping and stumbling and blinded by the pain of the sudden movement, the apprentice practically threw himself into the cleft. If only he had something to defend himself. Remembering the metal cylinder attached to his belt, he freed it and ignited it…waiting…waiting.

Qui-Gon had seen the whole thing…Obi-Wan grasping his head, then his flight to the cave. He was confused by that and the fact that his attempts to link with Obi-Wan through the force were apparently being ignored. He was getting more and more concerned about his padawan.

The Jedi stopped the vehicle some distance from the crevice that Obi-Wan had disappeared into. Obviously he was upset and Qui-Gon didn't want to startle him further. Exiting the speeder he called out, "Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! It's me, Qui-Gon!"

The apprentice was crouched just inside the opening and watching the figure intently. The words he heard meant nothing to him. He wondered who this Qui-Gon character was looking for. Was it him? He had sensed that whatever was going on in his head was related to this man. But he wasn't happy about someone messing around in his head. Mind control—was it some form of mind control? The more thoughts raced through his head, the more suspicious he became of the tall dark figure.

Qui-Gon could sense waves of fear coming from his padawan. He didn't understand why Obi-Wan wouldn't answer and why he was so afraid. Even if he were hurt—why would he be afraid of his master? The man who had raised and trained him all these years. Qui-Gon gently tried once more to reach out to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan. It's all right. It's me, Qui-Gon. I'm here to help you.

Obi-Wan recoiled at the intruding thoughts. No! No, you're not here to help me he thought to himself—but his master sensed those thoughts.

More and more confused, Qui-Gon tried once more to soothe the apprentice. He thought back to times in the past when Obi-Wan had been upset. What had calmed him the most?

Obi-Wan, it's me, your master. It's time to concentrate. It's time to work on reaching the force. Remember what I taught you? Qui-Gon realized he was talking to him as if he were the timid thirteen year old he had first become acquainted with; however, he decided in this unknown situation that he needed to be as unthreatening and gentle as was possible. Remember? You have to relax and breathe deeply. In and out, in and out.

But no matter how sedate Qui-Gon tried to be, it wasn't working. First, Obi-Wan had no memory of his master or their past together, and he was horrified at someone else being in his head—no matter how nice the words sounded. He tried to concentrate on his environment to keep from being taken in by what he was hearing. The apprentice was looking for some way to escape. He had no idea where he would go or how he would get there—as banged up as he was—but he was not going to just sit here and let this happen. The figure was still some distance from the cave entrance. Obi-Wan thought that if he could get out of the cave, he might be able to disappear behind some of these boulders before the man could get over to him. He knew it was far fetched thinking. He was beat up and couldn't hope to outrun the man, but maybe he could hide from him for awhile. He had to try something.

Obi-Wan exited the cleft and hobbled to a large boulder to his left. He began looking frantically for his next destination while trying to keep an eye on that speeder and its cargo. Behind him was one of the many breaks in the hill line that he had noticed while following the hills on his journey. It crested in a lower elevation than the bluff and Obi-Wan thought that maybe he could make it over. So he began to edge his way up the rise, all the while looking back over his shoulder. The imagined attacker was not following him. He didn't understand why not—but he didn't have time to ponder it. Just go he told himself.

The Jedi master watched in utter confusion as his apprentice tried to climb the knoll. He could still feel the waves of fear coming at him from Obi-Wan. It began to dawn on him that it wasn't only fright that was driving Obi-Wan. No matter how Qui-Gon tried to approach his padawan, he was reacting in terror. Doesn't he recognize me? What has happened to him? He won't communicate with me. He acts like I'm his enemy.

It was with great pain that the apprentice tried to climb. His body screamed out its displeasure at the demands being placed on it. But Obi-Wan's fear over came the pain and he kept climbing. Grabbing for handholds and watching each ledge his foot landed on, the only thing on his mind was reaching the top. Glancing over his shoulder, he was again surprised that his pursuer wasn't following. That glimpse was a costly one, however. Obi-Wan stepped on some loose rock that escaped his notice in that second and his foot slipped from the shelf. He had been in the process of shifting his weight to that foot, so there was no way he could catch himself once his fall began. He hit the rocky side of the hillock and began tumbling down and down. The only saving grace was that he had not been very far up the hill. Once at the bottom he rolled a few times until his momentum was spent and came to rest on his side near the boulder that he had been hiding behind. The padawan's pains were renewed with the impact against the stones and scree along the knoll's bare side. He was in agony. New abrasions and bruising on top of the old ones. He didn't move. It hurt so bad he didn't want to even breath, so he took shallow gulps of air as he tried to regain himself.

Qui-Gon had watched in horror as his padawan had plummeted down the rocky surface. He knew Obi-Wan was already injured and he recoiled as he imagined what further damage was being done by the descent. He began to run toward the injured young man.

Obi-Wan saw the mysterious man coming his way. There—there was that weapon, just in his reach. He grabbed the saber and ignited it, holding it arm's length.

Qui-Gon stopped in his tracks. "Obi-Wan. Don't be afraid. Don't you recognize me? I just want to help you. Even if you don't know me just let me help you. You need attention."

"Stay where you are. I'm not helpless yet and I'll use this if you come near me. I will, I promise it."

"Ok, Ok. I'll stay where I am. I don't intend you any harm. I just want to help you."

"Is that why you've been trying to work your mind control on me? Because you want to help me? I don't need that kind of help. Stay back."

Obi-Wan slowly and with great agony pushed himself into a sitting position. He wasn't sure exactly what was wrong but he knew that he had hurt his left arm in some way in the fall. So now he was even more vulnerable. But he had to get up, to get out of here. He held the light saber up again, pointing toward the other man.

"Get back. Step back further. Go on."

Qui-Gon obeyed as his mind raced for what to do now. He knew he could help Obi-Wan but how was he going to get his padawan to trust him?

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was very deliberately and tentatively trying to get to his feet. He had managed to get his feet under him but as he tried to stand a stabbing pain ran through his torso and he doubled over. Instinctively Qui-Gon started toward his learner to help him—but Obi-Wan jerked the light saber back up.

"I told you to stay back." He leaned against the boulder and tried to slow his ragged breathing. After a minute or so he was able to stand somewhat upright. He walked around to the right; giving Qui-Gon a wide berth and holding the weapon between him and the Jedi at all times.

"Ok, now I'm going to take your speeder. Don't worry though. See that pack over there, there's some food and some water in it. I haven't used it all up yet. I don't know how far you'll have to travel to get back to wherever it is you came from, but I can't worry about that right now. When I get to a settlement I'll tell someone you're out here. Right now I've got to worry about me."

Qui-Gon turned and watched as Obi-Wan began to back toward the vehicle. He couldn't let him leave like this! If he got away now, Qui-Gon wasn't sure he would be able to find him again. If he had no memory of his master, he probably wouldn't hang around for Qui-Gon to catch back up to him. But what could he do? He didn't want to use the force since Obi-Wan had accused him of trying to use mind control. He also knew if he rushed the apprentice either Obi-Wan would hurt himself trying to get away—or he could hurt Qui-Gon with the light saber. I've got to do something! I can't let him get away!

"Wait. Before you go can't I try to show you that I don't intend you any harm?"

"How? By playing games with my head again?"

"No. I'm not using that to control your mind, just to try to talk to you."

"Is that why you give commands through it—like trying to calm me down."

Qui-Gon took a deep sigh. This was harder than he thought it was going to be. "But I know a lot about you. I can tell you things about yourself."

Obi-Wan smirked, "Yeah, that would prove it since I can't remember anything about myself."

"You don't remember anything at all? What happened to you?"

Silently Obi-Wan cursed himself. That was foolish to let him know any weakness. Now the apprentice would really have to be on his guard. He imagined the character would probably try to tell him anything to win his trust. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Look, I don't have time for this."

Do something! "Wait. Just one minute. Look at your clothing. Haven't you noticed that we are dressed similarly?"

The apprentice looked down at his garments. He really hadn't thought much about them—except the time he had removed them to sit in the stream. He had wondered about the strange garb then. He regarded the man's outfit. It was similar! Almost the same. Even down to the dark hooded robes they both wore. This shook Obi-Wan. He awoke to a world where nothing was familiar and now here was something that seemed to hint of his life. He was so sure the pursuer was his enemy—now to find that there appeared to be some kind of link between them.

Wait Obi-Wan told himself. Don't fall into it so fast. Think he commanded himself. Is there another explanation? Don't be deceived just because you want to find out about yourself.

"Also, that weapon in your hands." Qui-Gon slowed detached the light saber from his belt. "Look. The same kind of weapon. Here you can see for yourself." Qui-Gon placed the saber on a rock and backed away so that Obi-Wan would feel free to approach it.

The apprentice hobbled over to the rock, still watching Qui-Gon. Slowly he picked up the Jedi weapon and gaped at it with wide eyes. He activated the switch on the side of the tube and watched the luminous green blade spring from the crystal. His mouth fell open as the coincidences began to be too many to be just coincidences.

"The power that you call mind control…you can do it too. I helped teach you. Try it. Relax and reach out with your mind. You can detect what I am thinking. Direct your mind toward mine. Please…try it."

Obi-Wan just stood and stared at the older man. This was all happening too fast for him to comprehend. He was confused. He didn't know what to do or to think.

"Please, Padawan." Qui-Gon hoped the endearing name would touch something in Obi-Wan's mind. "Try it. It will help you understand. It will help you remember."

The last sentence brought the reaction Qui-Gon had hoped for. He had dangled the bait—to remember. That's what Obi-Wan wanted more than anything, to remember. If he could just get the apprentice to reach out to his mind. Obi-Wan's arms fell to his sides as he visibly relaxed. Qui-Gon could feel the hesitation. Obi-Wan started to concentrate and then paused, and again.

"It's alright," the master said in the most soothing tone he could. "It's alright, Padawan. Just try it. It'll be OK."

Obi-Wan stiffened and resisted. Qui-Gon could feel it. The confusion and the fear were fighting with the apprentice's desire to remember. The master tried not to let his growing frustration show. This was shaky ground he was treading indeed. He couldn't afford to make a mistake.

"Obi-Wan, I told you one time that the most important thing for you to learn was how to control your fear. If you can't control it, then it will control you. Do you remember that?" Qui-Gon watched for any sign that he had struck a familiar chord with his apprentice. "It's true even now. I know you must be afraid…not being able to remember. That's frightening. But if you let that fear rule you then you pass up your chance to be able to remember." He waited a moment to allow Obi-Wan to think about his words then tried again. "Just try it. If nothing happens or if you aren't convinced then I will stand back and let you take the speeder. But if you try and it works…if it helps you to remember…then isn't it worth facing that fear?"

Obi-Wan's brow wrinkled into furrows as he struggled with the words and his fear. Fear…there was something familiar about that. Something about learning to control his fear…and…frustration. Fear and frustration. Something from a long time ago. Some reason he once hated and admired the same man because of fear and frustration.

Qui-Gon was aware of what was going through his apprentice's mind. He had hit the right memory. Obi-Wan's frustration at being passed over as a padawan because of his struggle with controlling his fear. It was a deep-seated memory. A deep-seated frustration. The master remembered and knew he had finally touched something that Obi-Wan was able to remember also. "Do you want to remember? Or do you want to be afraid?" he said quietly.

Obi-Wan's head snapped up and there was anger in his stormy blue eyes. "I'm not afraid!" he rasped. Thus saying it, he felt prodded to prove it. So he took in a short breath and let it out and began to relax.

Qui-Gon tried not to smile…but he knew he had succeeded in coaxing the padawan to try to contact the force. He relaxed and opened his mind so that Obi-Wan would have no trouble reaching it. He could feel the apprentice tentatively stretching out…could feel his amazement at what was happening to him. Just a little more, Padawan, just a little more. He could sense when the gap had been bridged and Obi-Wan had touched his mind. However, as soon as the link had closed, Obi-Wan immediately withdrew. Qui-Gon opened his eyes to find his learner staring wide-eyed at him. And still there was fear coming from him.

"Obi-Wan, what's wrong. I thought you wanted to remember. I thought you weren't afraid." Though the words were taunting, he said them gently. Qui-Gon was trying to straddle that fine line between provoking him and encouraging him.

The apprentice said nothing but looked away. He stammered but said nothing. Confusion and fear were filling his mind. This was not going as well as Qui-Gon had hoped. He had to calm the young man or he was going to be scared off.

"This may be puzzling to you. It may seem unnatural. But you were born with a special power, a special gift that not everyone has. This gift may be your only chance to remember. Won't you try once more? Don't concentrate on the fear. Concentrate on what you feel when you reach out to me."

There was hesitation in the padawan's demeanor. He thought about the words. A special power, a special gift. That sounded so much better than fear and frustration. He didn't like what he felt inside when he thought about the fear and frustration. The creases disappeared from his face as he again relaxed. This time he closed his eyes too. That didn't escape Qui-Gon's notice. He must trust me to take his eyes off me. Qui-Gon relaxed also and prepared himself for what he knew he had to do when Obi-Wan reached out to him again.

Slowly and haltingly the padawan stretched out again. Qui-Gon could sense everything so much more clearly—the fear, the hesitation, the pain that wracked his body. He knew that Obi-Wan was trying harder this time. He remained passive and allowed the padawan to come to him. When he felt the link close he immediately began to think encouraging and calming thoughts. He could sense Obi-Wan's desire to withdraw. But he focused on staying relaxed and focused and just allowed the apprentice a while to become comfortable with what was happening. As soon as he could sense the apprehension decrease somewhat, Qui-Gon began recalling positive and pleasant memories of Obi-Wan's life. He knew that even though amnesia is a result of a physical injury, the recall of memories does not depend on physical healing. This would be strictly a psychological and emotional healing. Also, amnesia is a totally unpredictable malady. Some people never regain memories, some partial memory, and others more complete recall. The right prompt might trigger Obi-Wan's mind. That's what the master was hoping for. That's what he concentrated on. Finding the right memory, the right experience or the right feeling that might activate recall.

As he ran through this exercise, he could feel the padawan beginning to relax and accept what Qui-Gon was sending him. He was pleased; if Obi-Wan fought him, there would be little chance of helping him remember. He was searching for a memory with very strong emotional attachments. Did he dare? Should he recall something so unpleasant to the padawan? It had worked earlier. That was a situation that had deeply affected Obi-Wan and had shaped his entire life. Yes—it was worth a try.

Qui-Gon recalled his earliest memories of Obi-Wan. What he had been told about him. How he had been passed over by other masters because of his trouble controlling his fear. The whisperings in the halls of the Jedi temple. Qui-Gon's own hesitation at taking Obi-Wan as his padawan learner.

He could feel the anger and frustration build in Obi-Wan at the memories. Yes, he did remember that about himself. There was something he was able to recall. Qui-Gon kept feeding the fire—concentrating on that stormy time in the apprentice's life. Obi-Wan was fighting him. He tried to draw away but Qui-Gon kept at it…remembering, reliving, reminding. He didn't let up; no matter how much Obi-Wan resisted him.

Finally all the resistance gave way in a single second. Qui-Gon heard a loud sob and opened his eyes in time to see his padawan collapse to his knees. He ran over and gathered him into his arms and held him while sobs racked the bruised and battered apprentice.

"It's all right now," he whispered. "It's all right. I'm right here. It's over now."

Some minutes later, Obi-Wan had expended his hurt and the weeping began to subside. He pulled away from Qui-Gon and with a pain-filled voice said, "You deliberately did that. You forced me to relive that."

"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly, "But it helped you to remember."

So filled with torment had he been over the bitter memories that Obi-Wan hadn't become aware yet that his other memories had returned to him as well. He looked at Qui-Gon in wonder.

"I'm sorry that I had to do that to you, Obi-Wan, but I needed a memory with strong emotions to try to jolt your brain to remember. Can you forgive me?"

"Oh, Master, how could I not forgive you for helping me?"

"We need to get you back to the colony and medical attention."

"Well again you are," Yoda said, more of a question than a statement. Three weeks later he knew the physical injuries were healing, but he wondered about the other damage the experience had caused.

"Yes, Master Yoda."

"So you have regained your memory?" Master Windu quizzed.

"For the most part, yes. There are still things I don't quite recall. Mostly recent things. I still don't remember the accident. The healers say that is to be expected. Recovery from amnesia is rarely complete and usually the events closer to the accident are the ones recalled last, if at all."

"However," Qui-Gon interjected, "We have been able to piece together some of what happened after talking with the colonies on Jastin." He nodded for Obi-Wan to pick up the narrative.

"Apparently I had some type of engine trouble with my transport. I put down at one of the Baroon colonies. They were unable to provide the parts I needed. So they loaned me a speeder to check the Loard colony for parts. I still don't know how I crashed the speeder," Obi-Wan shrugged. "They have looked over the remains. There could have been a mechanical failure, but that is uncertain."

"Hmmm," Yoda muttered. "Tried have you to help him recall?" he questioned the apprentice's master.

"Yes, Master Yoda. The healers say in time the memory may return…or it may not. I suppose we'll have to be content with having a padawan who is whole physically, even if he never remembers," Qui-Gon grinned at Obi-Wan. The relief and affection were evident in his voice.

Endnote: The loss of memory and recall is a mystery to doctors today, even in our advanced society. Doctors still have only a small understanding of how our complicated brains work. Amnesia affects each individual differently. The Padawan's amnesia from a concussion, the method of recall (strong emotional reaction) and the after-effects (loss of most current memories) parallel actual cases recorded in medical literature.