SURFACING

by:  Seven O'Nine
Feedback to:  jsolinas@erols.com



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 purposes 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.  Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).


"Get those doors open!"

"Talk to him, try to get some kind of response."

"Master, can you hear me?"

"Pulse rate is dropping! Respiration is becoming erratic!"

"Master?"

Qui-Gon heard the voices, through what felt like a wall of water. He ached, but the pain was as muffled as the voices, softened.... He could feel his body, slowly easing inward and away from it.

The voices melted away, gone into the distance between him and them. The pain melted to a mere shadow, then vanished entirely. Qui-Gon sighed and shivered inwardly.

It would be so easy. This place was so soft, so inviting, so dark and velvety and welcoming... he just wanted to rest, to end the pain and let himself stay there forever... the Force surrounded him like a warm blanket, enveloping him and his pain and easing it away...

He smiled dreamily as he thought of Obi-Wan and Anakin. Obi-Wan was a Jedi in every sense of the word—he had sensed the spectacular use of the Force that his apprentice had used. He could train Anakin well... the boy would be in good hands.

//No.//

//It's not your time.//

Qui-Gon started at the faint, noiseless voice in his mind, slowly melding with the thrumming power of the Force. In a flash, he saw it all.

He saw two futures—one to choose, depending on his choice of life or death. If he took this way out, allowed himself to become one with the Force... Anakin would turn to the dark side, would destroy the Jedi and ally himself with the Sith...

//I have a chance to change all that.//

He pulled himself from the warm, welcoming ocean of the Force, forced himself into the coldness up above him. He knew all too well that his body was tired, hammered by a lightsaber, wounded to the point where he might never recover.

But he could make a difference...


Obi-Wan Kenobi sat by the hospital bed, twisting a small fold of his robe between his fingertips. His heart pounded at the sight of his master, always so powerful and commanding, lying pale and insensate on the bed.

An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, a small part of his long hair had been shaved for a neural monitor strapped to his skull. More monitoring wires were hooked to his powerful arms and chest, a regenerator tied to the hideous burn mark on his rib cage.

Obi-Wan was grateful for that—the sight of the hideous wound might have sent him over the edge. The lightsaber had damaged Qui-Gon's spinal column—he wouldn't be able to move his legs for a time without therapy, and then relearn to walk. Assuming he ever woke.

Anakin was crouched by his side, his bright blue eyes reddened with tears. He hadn't spoken a word since coming, except a tearful admonition for Qui-Gon to wake up. There hadn't been the slightest reaction from the comatose man.

Slowly, the padawan dropped from the chair to his knees and placed a gentle hand on Qui-Gon's cold arm. "Master?" he whispered. "Master, it's me... Obi-Wan. Can you hear me?"

A faint twitch of the brow muscles. Obi-Wan's heart spasmed at the sight. "Anakin!" he cried, but the boy was already clinging to his shoulder, asking, "Can he hear us? Did he hear you?" in a breathlessly excited voice.

Obi-Wan almost screamed with joy at an audible intake of breath, misting the inside of the oxygen mask. "Get the doctor! Get Master Yoda!" he called to the nurse.

The master's misty eyes fluttered open, wavered, and fixed on his apprentice's face. "Obi-Wan..." he whispered hoarsely. Then he glanced at Obi-Wan's shoulder, which Anakin's round face was struggling to rest on. "Annie..."

As a small smile crossed Qui-Gon's features, he raised his hand weakly. Obi-Wan gripped it tightly, seeing a single tear coming to the older man's eyes at the friend's gesture. He would be all right.


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