Adumbration
by AlexPart 10
Obi-Wan didn't sleep, not at first.
He lay curled around the base of the chair to which his wrists were still bound in a hazy twilight of pain and soul-weariness. Hours he spent like that, not thinking, his mind unfocused. Somewhere within him there was shame and rage; there was humiliation and defeat; but some part of him quelled the roiling emotions, letting his mind drift. Perhaps it was just as well; he'd been brutally abused, and perhaps it was too soon, just now, for a thorough examination of the self.
And finally, mercifully, he fell asleep, and dreamed again.
He dreamt of Qui-Gon, tall and noble and beautiful, who took Obi-Wan into his arms and murmured endearments and whispered soothingly to him, and Obi-Wan trembled and clung to him like a child.
"Master...I'm so afraid."
"Fear not, my Obi-Wan, my dear one. Have faith. All will be well."
Large hands caressing him, so gently, so softly, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to be comforted. He burrowed into Qui-Gon's embrace, loving the feel of the other man's arms around him, hungering for the affection that had been so long denied...but there was more, and Obi-Wan remembered now, and pulled away, though it hurt him.
"We are in danger, Master. All of us."
"Where is the danger, my padawan?"
And he wanted to tell him, so badly, but he couldn't speak, and he was wrenched from Qui-Gon's arms by unseen hands, and Qui-Gon disappeared. Obi-Wan was standing in a vast chamber. Belial stood beside him.
"Look, Obi-Wan," the clone said, pointing.
Obi-Wan saw rows upon rows of transparisteel vats, each holding a body. And he knew that each body was a clone, and each clone the replica of a Jedi Knight.
Horrified, he stood frozen to the spot until Belial pulled him through the rows of vats. They stopped in front of one, and the clone pushed him up against the vat, and he looked up...
...up into the face of his own master.
"Qui-Gon..."
"Qui-Gon will die," whispered Belial, his arms snaking around Obi-Wan and tightening. "This will take his place...such is the fate of all the Jedi."
"No," said Obi-Wan, or tried to, but a hand was on his mouth, another twined through his hair, and he was pushed to the floor, and he tried to scream as a multitude of hands held him still, held him open to the clone's assault, and the clone battered into him again, and this time he did cry out, and he snapped awake with a start.
Still in his prison. But no clone standing over him, for which he was dimly grateful.
He looked up at the sound of a bolt being shot.
The Zabrakian had entered the room. He strode over to the chair, squatted, and cut Obi-Wan's wrists free. Then he straightened and gestured at the young man.
"Stand up."
Obi-Wan stood, a bit unsteadily. The Zabrakian, with considerably more gentleness than Belial had shown, ushered him through a short series of rooms into a 'fresher. Silently he pushed Obi-Wan inside, shut the door, and locked it.
Obi-Wan looked around for a moment. The room was windowless, with only one exit. And no doubt the guard still stood on the other side of the door with a blaster.
He pushed away the despair that threatened and stumbled to the taps. He turned on the cold water and drank thirstily, greedily, feeling the water irrigating him, trickling through him like sunlight. He sank to the floor, feeling almost good for the first time in days. He sighed and brushed a hand against his face, feeling the faint growth of beard there. His fingertips touched cloth against his collarbone, and he reached up to unknot the gag that still hung loosely around his neck. He tossed it away, not looking at it.
His stomach clenched suddenly from the shock of the cold water, and he scurried to the sanitary unit and vomited. He hadn't eaten for so long, and he had nothing in his stomach except the water. Shuddering, he crawled to the shower, turned it on, and sat on the floor, letting the hot stinging water spray over him. There was soap, and a soft cloth, and he rubbed the soapy cloth against his skin, wincing as the cloth touched the cuts and welts on his body, the results of his fruitless struggles against his restraints. It was hardly that they hurt...he'd endured far worse pain. But they were a tangible symbol of his helplessness, a reminder that he was no closer to escape now, or then. He blushed, ashamed, aware that he should have spent every waking moment focused upon escape, as it was certain that rescue was out of the question.
The shame burned within him, turned to anger, which gave him some strength, and he stood, finished washing hastily. He shut off the shower, dried himself, and wrapped the towel around his hips.
He walked to the door of the 'fresher, determined to plot an escape, somehow...he stretched out a hand, forgetting that the door was locked.
It swung open. Belial stood there.
He was dressed in the same close-fitting black leather garments that Obi-Wan had first seen him in. His eyes were laced with snaps of red, and he looked fatigued. Nevertheless, he smiled at Obi-Wan, and the smile was sweet, there was genuine affection in it, and for a moment Obi-Wan saw himself reflected in the clone's smile, and he was terribly afraid.
"All fresh and clean, I see."
His eyes flicked down to the towel around Obi-Wan's waist.
"Modesty becomes you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan stepped back warily. He glared at the clone, feeling all the rage that his subconscious had suppressed earlier. His hands clenched into fists, and he tensed, prepared to spring.
Belial sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
"I haven't slept in days, Obi-Wan, and time draws short. You can cooperate with me, or I can stun you into submission. Make your choice." He shifted, and Obi-Wan saw the dull gleam of a blaster strapped to his thigh. Belial's hand went to the blaster.
Obi-Wan met the clone's reddened eyes. Exhausted or not, he was sure that Belial's reflexes would be faster than his own, for Obi-Wan was weakened from lack of food and his confinement. He couldn't trust his own body to overcome the clone, and even if he could, there was still the guard and then he'd have to find his way out of this prison, wherever it was...no. There had to be another way.
How? he thought despondently. You're alone in the grip of an agent of Darkness, outnumbered, strengthless, helpless...hopeless?
No. No. I am Jedi. I may not have the Force as my disposal, but I am still Jedi. I will survive this. I must survive. I must.
He nodded briefly and allowed Belial to take him by the arm. He was silent and unflinching when Belial snatched the towel from his hips, leaving him naked. Belial dropped the towel and caressed Obi-Wan's ass.
"Delectable."
Obi-Wan remained silent.
The worst had been done, after all.
Belial led him back to the interrogation chamber. He pulled a complicated array of leather straps and metal buckles from a shelf.
"Kneel."
Obi-Wan knelt, his face burning.
"Hands behind your back."
He hesitated, then obeyed. His heart ached unbearably. No way out of this, no way out, his mind chanted, and he lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut against defeated tears. Belial's eyes darkened, and he knelt behind his captive and confined his wrists within the leather straps securely. More straps were buckled around Obi-Wan's arms, above his elbows, and around his ankles. The ankle restraints were fastened together with a short length of chain. Belial clipped another length of chain to Obi-Wan's wrist cuffs and attached it to his ankles. Now Obi-Wan was hobbled, on his knees. It was impossible for him to stand.
Belial put a finger under Obi-Wan's chin and tilted his head up.
"How quickly you've adapted to your captivity, Obi-Wan. I wonder if all Jedi learn to be prisoners as quickly as you have...or is that a particular talent of yours?"
Obi-Wan yanked his head away and involuntarily pulled at his bonds, regretting the action as soon as it had occurred. He'd learned all too soon that it pleased the clone to see him fight; yet he could not prevent himself from doing so.
"You're flushed, Jedi, and your breathing has become erratic. I think that you're enjoying this as much as I am."
"Go to hell."
Belial regarded him calmly for a moment. He turned, switched on the monitor, and slipped a holodisc in. An image formed on the screen.
Qui-Gon...Qui-Gon, throwing the clone, his hands bound behind him, onto the bed. The clone writhing in apparent fear, protesting, fighting, crying out as Qui-Gon entered him.
Obi-Wan was pale with anger.
"What is this?" he managed.
"Don't be dense, Obi-Wan. It's a holodisc."
"This is a trick..."
"Oh. Yes. It's only a small part of what actually took place. Believe me, I was entirely willing. I'm sorry that I neglected to turn on the monitor before I left. You must have been terribly bored."
"What have you done?" whispered Obi-Wan, fearing the answer.
"I've made a mistake, Obi-Wan. I was foolish enough to think that I had the luxury of time on Coruscant. Qui-Gon and I have been assigned to a mission on Yrrna, to ferret out terrorist activity."
"I don't understand," Obi-Wan said.
"I can't very well take you to Yrrna. Qui-Gon would question my absences, and obviously, I can't tell him the reason for my frequent disappearances. Here on Coruscant, they're easy enough to explain away. And as you may recall, I already have plans to go offworld with you...to Sullust."
"Where your Master waits for me," Obi-Wan said, stunned at his own effrontery. Idiot, he thought, don't provoke him. The clone was unpredictable at best, and Obi-Wan had had enough evidence of his cruelty when it was aroused.
But Belial didn't rise to the taunt. "Precisely. And there is another reason, Obi-Wan...can you guess?"
Obi-Wan thought. What else could there be...
He knew.
"The terrorism on Yrrna...it's..."
Belial clapped his hands once, delighted. "Yes! Excellent guess. Yrrna is one of the worlds on which my Master's forces are mobilizing. If Qui-Gon went to Yrrna, he'd almost certainly discover this. I don't think that even I could distract him sufficiently to prevent his investigation."
"But why...why would you-"
"That?" said Belial, throwing a nod toward the monitor. "I needed to create confusion, Obi-Wan. Too many things are happening now, and I confess that I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all. I need time."
"Someone else will go to Yrrna, even if it's not Qui-Gon."
"True...but I've already notified my Master. Even now, steps are being taken to dissolve the preparations there. By the time the Jedi arrive, all the rumors will prove false. And there will almost certainly be delays...considering the scandal within the Jedi Order."
Obi-Wan's heart sunk. "What do you mean?" His suspicions were confirmed with Belial's answer.
"A copy of this holodisc is now in the hands of the Council. How will they react, do you think, when it's discovered that a Jedi Master, respected by his fellow Knights, a skilled diplomat and a powerful warrior, has brutally raped his innocent Padawan, whose pleas for mercy went unheeded? The Council will be outraged, horrified. Qui-Gon will be expelled from the Order. And then I shall reappear, exact vengeance, and send his unquiet soul into eternity."
Obi-Wan choked back a sob of rage.
"Why?" he gasped. "Why would you do this? What has he done to you, that you would make him suffer so?"
"Don't you understand by now, Obi-Wan? It's all for you, all of this."
Obi-Wan shook his head frantically.
"Yes, Obi-Wan." Belial knelt in front of him.
"Because you will be mine, Obi-Wan. My apprentice. You will witness the destruction of all that you hold dear. Your suffering will be boundless, and Qui-Gon will be purged from your soul, a cleansing by fire. You will be an empty vessel, and only I will remain, to form you, to rebuild your soul." He gathered Obi-Wan to him, holding him upright, and Obi-Wan struggled in his arms. He held him still.
"You are mine, Obi-Wan, My captive, my slave, my own dearest love."
"Love!" cried Obi-Wan, utterly sickened. "What do you know of love, you atrocity!"
"You think I'm not capable of love, Obi-Wan?" Belial whispered, pulling him closer, so that their mouths were mere centimeters away. "For days I watched you, weaving myself into the tapestry of your consciousness. I felt your longing for Qui-Gon, and your terror of rejection. When Qui-Gon made love to me, I absorbed his feelings for you, and how beautiful they are, Obi-Wan, like a thousand shimmering stars, rapturous...I almost regret not being able to open a bond with him. He has an enormous capacity for passion, as you saw. But in the end, only you matter. In time you'll understand...we share so much more than flesh and blood." He leaned forward and kissed Obi-Wan on the mouth.
"I love you, Obi-Wan," the clone murmured, kissing Obi-Wan's ears, his neck, his shoulders, holding him as he strained against him, leather touching bare skin.
"I'll give you everything you've ever wanted...power...wealth...lovers...you have only to ask, and it shall be yours." His head dipped down, and he suckled Obi-Wan's nipples, pulling at them, one by one, with a mouth that was beyond skillful, it was agonizing, and exquisite, and Obi-Wan hated every second of it.
"Give me my freedom," Obi-Wan said, stifling a groan, trying to back away, but those arms held him immovably.
"You know I can't do that."
"Then spare Qui-Gon," he gasped, as the clone's mouth closed over his cock. "He doesn't deserve to suffer for my sake, he...ahh...let him..."
Belial rose again to face Obi-Wan. His hand closed over Obi-Wan's cock and began to stroke it rhythmically. He spoke to him gently.
"You still don't understand, Obi-Wan. His death is necessary to my plans..." His voice trailed off as he began to kiss Obi-Wan again. His tongue slipped into Obi-Wan's mouth, and Obi-Wan caught a faint, slightly bitter taste...semen.
Qui-Gon's semen.
He was thoroughly undone, and he sobbed aloud, his cries muffled, as Belial contined to plunder his mouth. The clone made a crooning noise in his throat as if to calm the young Jedi, and he caressed Obi-Wan's back almost gently. His other hand remained on Obi-Wan's penis, bringing it to an erection despite the young man's intense suffering.
The shame and hate welled within Obi-Wan and now, more than his freedom, he desired to kill, to wipe the abomination from existence. And so he did the only thing that he could.
Belial shrieked as Obi-Wan bit him as hard as he could. Obi-Wan let go, and the clone sprang to his feet, clutching his bleeding mouth and cursing. His booted foot lashed out and caught Obi-Wan in the ribs, and Obi-Wan fell to his side, gasping in pain. One of his ribs was broken, he was certain of it, but it was worth it, seeing Belial's agony.
Still cursing, Belial stalked out of the room and returned several minutes later. He glared balefully at Obi-Wan. "You nearly severed my tongue, Jedi," he snarled, unerringly kicking Obi-Wan's injured rib again. "You're going to pay for that." His speech was blurred, and Obi-Wan could see a bacta patch bandaged around the clone's tongue.
"I should have bitten it off."
The clone kicked him again in response, and Obi-Wan writhed in silent pain on the floor.
Belial walked over to a shelf and pulled an object down, and strode back to where Obi-Wan lay on his side. He knelt beside Obi-Wan and stuck the object in his face.
It was a slim wand about the length of a man's forearm, with a handle at one end from which several controls protruded. He hit a button and the tip of the wand began to glow red.
"Ever seen one of these before, Jedi?"
Obi-Wan was silent. It wasn't familiar to him, but he could certainly guess...
"It's a neural whip. Or, as the Mandalore call it, the Truthfinder. It works by inductive stimulation of the nerve endings. With this, I can make you feel fiery heat, stinging cold, a hot needle in your flesh...and many, many other sensations, in any combination I please. I can even make you feel intense pleasure, although I'm not particularly inclined to do so now.
"The point is that, however intense the pain I make you feel, it will do no actual damage to your lovely body, and it will leave no marks upon your skin. You can't die from this.
"But I can make you want to. Allow me to demonstrate."
He touched the end of the whip to Obi-Wan's chest.
Burning stinging whitehot electric shock, like a million live wires jammed into his skin, but he wouldn't scream, he wouldn't, and he bit his lip until the blood ran freely, mingling with the clone's blood.
Belial looked disappointed, and withdrew the whip.
"Well, that was the lowest setting, after all."
He hit another button, touched Obi-Wan again.
"Still nothing. Hmm."
Another adjustment, another touch.
Belial sighed.
"Not yet? We'll increase the duration, and the intensity."
Another touch.
Agony...
"Better. But that was just a whimper, Obi-Wan! I know you can scream much louder than that..."
Another touch.
"Improving. Let's make another adjustment. And let's see...why don't you pretend that Qui-Gon is in the next room, and if you scream loudly enough, he'll hear you, and rush to your rescue!" The clone laughed, and touched Obi-Wan again, much longer this time.
"Oh, that was very good, Obi-Wan. Very good."
The wand descended again.
"Where is the place I need to touch, Obi-Wan, to unlock your secrets and lay you entirely bare? Is it here?"
Again...
"Or here?"
"What about here?"
"Between here?"
"Oh, that was many times worse than before, wasn't it? And we're only halfway up its scale. Let's try...here."
Pure, unceasing torment, and Obi-Wan convulsed and screamed, full-throated anguish.
Belial reached out and gently touched Obi-Wan's face, stealing a droplet from the corner of one tightly closed eye. He brought the finger to his lips and tasted it.
"You know, that last must have hurt you very badly, Obi-Wan, but I'm afraid it doesn't quite make up for my tongue, which, by the way, still hurts. So we'll--" he stopped at a chirruping noise that Obi-Wan recognized, even in a mist of agony, as his comlink. Belial set the whip down and pulled the comlink out. He stood and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Obi-Wan lay on the floor, breathing shallowly, trying to control the trembling that seized his body. He felt no further pain, but the memory was nealy as intense as the pain itself, and try as he might, he could not shut the memory out. It had been excruciating, and there was more suffering to come, he was sure of it.
Belial returned, grinning. He knelt once again by Obi-Wan and stroked his flank.
"The game resumes, Obi-Wan. The Council summons me."
Obi-Wan's heart twisted at this news.
"Please...don't..."
"Yes. I will. And this time, you will watch."
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20