CONFESSIONS OF A TIRED PADAWAN: Part 21

by:  Emmy
Feedback to:  amariem@worldnet.att.net



DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox.  This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended.  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.  Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.


You close your eyes as his face gets closer to yours. ::Think, think, think, think:: You wiggle your fingers and feel the pipe, or whatever it is, that your hands are taped to. You wrap your fingers around it and squeeze, feeling its surface and girth.

He licks the side of your face and you shudder. “See, I aint so bad after all, am I?” he says.

An idea forming in your head, you take as deep a breath as you can and order your body into stillness. Then you open your eyes and look at him.

“Hey,” he says to his partner. “I think she likes me.”

His partner snorts.

He leans down and whispers into your ear, “Now, I can take this tape off your mouth, and you’ll be good, right?”

You nod.

“Cuz nobody is gonna hear you. And we need your mouth for…” he snorts “…other things.”

You feel sick…so sick. But you nod again. He peels the tape off your face, and it painfully rips at your lips, causing your eyes to water over. But you don’t make a sound.

He sits up, still straddling your waist. “See,” he says to his partner. “She’s quiet.”

You test the pipe in your hands by pulling yourself closer to the wall. It’s solidly secured, unfortunately.

“What the hell is she doing?” his partner asks, a bit agitated.

“My arms hurt. Just loosening up a bit,” you say in a scratchy voice.

“That’s right,” the man in charge says. “She’s not going anywhere. In fact…” He begins to loosen his belt.

::Oh God…no, no, no….:: You feel your body begin to tremble again.

Then, of all things, he stands up. Turns toward his partner and boasts, “Watch how it’s done.”

It’s all you need. The moment he turns around, you use the pipe to roll up, pulling your legs off the floor and kicking him as hard as you can in the groin. He doubles over and howls, and you scream as loud as you can again, kicking as his partner dives in, trying to restrain you. Sheer madness takes over, and you twist your body around, shrieking and swinging your elbows, making any attempt to strike him.

“Hold still! Fuckin’ bitch!”

You breathe in heavy and some other voice comes out of your mouth, low and coarse, “You touch me, and I kill you. You hear me? I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” Your eyes lock to his with fierce intensity, and he hesitates for a moment.

But then the man in charge recovers. He throws his partner off of you, grabs your hair, and pushes your face into the cold, hard cement floor. “You’re gonna pay!”

“No! No!” you shriek against his grip on your head. A shock of pain shoots down your back as his fist hits your shoulder.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” He tries to cover your mouth with his hand, but you bite his fingers, your teeth piercing his skin. He yelps, pulling his hand away, and then slaps your face and knocks your head back to the floor.

You continue to use your strained voice, crying out as loud as you can. The man in charge stands up, kicks you in the stomach, and then reaches for the roll of tape. Suddenly, a loud crash is heard against the heavy metal door. The two men look over. “What the fuck was that?” the man in charge asks.

“I dunno,” his partner says.

“Well, go look!”

The tiniest glimmer of hope races through you, and you begin to scream for help.

“I told you to shut up!” He begins to unwind the tape, and you scream louder.

His partner looks out a peephole. “Nothing out there.”

Before the man in charge can put the tape over your mouth, a loud bang comes from the door, and he turns around. “Oh shit!”

You stop screaming for a moment and raise your head up to see the door. A green, solid light protrudes through the door, the metal glowing orange and melting away from the top to the bottom of the door.

“What the hell is that?” the partner yells.

A second later the green light disappears, and the door flies open. And then nothing. The hallway is dark and still. No one is there. “Oh no,” you say fretfully. Did you hallucinate it? “Qui-Gon?” you ask hopefully, your voice almost gone. “Qui-Gon?”

“Who?” the two men say in unison, turning toward you.

The moment their backs are turned to the door, you see a blue light ignite in the dark. You drop your head to the cement and begin to cry tears of relief….but only for a moment.

“Shit! Jedi!” the man in charge yells as Obi-Wan, dressed in black, rushes through the door. “Shoot him!”

You scramble to your knees, pulling yourself up by the pipe on the wall that you’re still attached to, as blaster fire fills the room. You watch in awe as Obi-Wan deflects each shot with his light saber. The men shoot frantically, but Obi-Wan’s defense is precise, skilled.

An instant later, Qui-Gon is in the room. Obi-Wan takes on the man in charge, while Qui-Gon goes after his partner. It isn’t even a match, as your kidnappers are completely on the defensive. While the confrontation ensues, you attempt to grab the end of the duct tape with your teeth in order to free your hands, but you can’t get your face close enough.

You look over your shoulder to see Obi-Wan swing his saber and split the man in charge’s blaster in half. The man in charge stands there dumbstruck holding only the smoking handle.

Meanwhile, Qui-Gon has already disarmed the partner who shudders against the wall as Qui-Gon looms over him.

You tug at your restraints, still shaking and your breath wheezing. You have to get out of there. The pipe creaks as you pull on it. “Here, let me help you.” You look up to see Qui-Gon kneeling next to you.

“Please hurry,” you whisper frantically.

“It’s alright,” he says, his voice a soothing rumble. “You are safe now.”

“I just wanna get out of here,” you whimper between shallow breaths.

“I know. Soon enough, little one,” he says, placing a large hand on your shoulder. He then begins to unwind the tape from your wrists. Suddenly you are shocked by fire ripping through your arm. You wail as you fall back against the wall. Out of the corner of your eye you see the man in charge pointing another blaster at you. A split second later, the gun flies out of his hand, and he is hurled up high into the air and lodged against the wall, held there by invisible strings.

You blink the tears out of your eyes and take a deep breath against the pain. And there you see Obi-Wan staring up at the man against the wall, a punishing look on his face. The man in charge squeals as he hangs in mid-air, his partner cowering in the corner. Obi-Wan stands motionless, seeming to hold your attacker in the air with his eyes alone.

Qui-Gon lays his hand on your arm. He places his large fingers against your cheek. “It’s a surface wound. You will be alright. I promise,” he says with a kind smile. He looks over his shoulder. “Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan does not respond.

“Obi-Wan!”

Nothing.

Qui-Gon walks over to him. “Padawan! Enough!” With that, the man in charge slides down the wall and falls to the floor, yelping as he comes to a dead stop on the cement. Obi-Wan turns around and Qui-Gon says, “You have injured this man.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan hisses through his teeth and stalks over to you. He quickly unwraps the rest of the tape from your wrists. He takes your cold, numb hands in his, and they begin to warm.

“Please,” you whisper, unable to look at him. “I just want to go home.”

“We’ll need to get you to a healer. For this,” he says pulling gingerly on the burned fabric of your sweater. “I’m sorry… I…. My focus lapsed for a moment,” he says the last word in a disgusted tone. “I was watching you instead of him and….”

“Get me out of here,” you say louder, but your voice raspy.

He guides you to stand, and you attempt to take a step, but your leg gives out on you…the leg that was stomped on eariler. Obi-Wan catches you as you stumble. “You are hurt,” he says. “Let me—“

“No, I can do it,” you say. You try to walk again, but fall once more.

“No, you can’t,” he says, and he picks you up before you can protest. You swing your tired, uninjured arm over his head, and as he carries you out of the room away from your terror, you are struck by the realization that you are finally safe. You feel all your panic begin to loosen as Obi-Wan quickly takes you up the stairs. When the fresh air hits your face, you shiver, but never have you been more grateful. Like a rapture, you begin to cry. You lower your head to Obi-Wan’s shoulder and wrap your other arm around him, despite the painful wound. Your body begins to shake all over as you let loose the horror inside you at what just happened and what could have happened. You cling to him tightly and bury your face against his neck as your tears flow. You feel him stop and sit down on something. His hand covers the back of your head, and his other arm holds you tightly against him as he whispers apologies and comfort into your ear.


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