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Summary:Obi-wan tells his story of being a slave to Qui-Gon while recuperating.

I walked into my apprentice's sick room, bearing the box that the healer had gotten from his slave master. However, considering her emotions and actions, I had to wonder which of the two of them was really enslaved.

I am thankful to the force for the gift of my apprentice again. I am doubly thankful that he came under the power of someone with some sense of honor. Where he could have been hurt and taken against his will he was cared for and held in esteem. I think the force was looking out for my apprentice, trying to keep him safe from harm.

The healers had been working on restoring my Padawan's memories with resounding success. A complete erasing of the mind simply was too expensive for a slaver to do. Most of the time, the slavers simply killed the nerves connecting the conscious mind from the activated memory cells. To recall his memories, the healer merely needed to regrow the missing neural connections.

As wonderful as modern science was in the fact it could repair heavily damaged nerves, it was unable to regenerate them. Only jedi healers with the aid of the force could accomplish that.

The healer assured me time and again that all he needed now was to sort out for himself what happened to him. As a Jedi trained to handle trauma, all Obi-wan should need after the mental conditioning was removed and his memories restored, was time, care and understanding.

"Good morning Master." Obi-wan smiled up at me from his sick bed. His skin had returned that healthy glow, but he was still weak from the extensive surgery he underwent.

"Good Morning padawan." I returned just as cheerfully, as if we were greeting each other over the breakfast table. "The healers say that you'll be able to escape and resume some light exercise shortly."

Obi-wan nodded, "I look forward to it, master. You know how I detest Idleness."

I placed the box on his lap and said, "This was from her. She gave it to the healer to give to you just before she left."

Obi-wan's face went from happiness to quiet contemplation. Obi-wan touched the box as gently as if he were handling a delicate glass sculpture. "Did she say anything?" He asked softly.

"Nothing other then she found the items just before the two of you left to come here, and to give it to you." I replied softly.

Obi-wan nodded as he opened the box. Upon seeing the contents he gasped, his eyes going wide. "Her father is going to kill her." he murmured as he touched the items inside.

I placed a hand on his wrist and was relieved to see he didn't flinch at the touch. "Obi-wan, I would very much like to hear the story from you. I know you've told it a thousand times over to nosy healers, neurotic council members, concerned friends and interested historians. I want to hear your unvarnished version. Not one edited for the consumption of your listener."

My apprentice nodded slowly and withdrew the silk drawstring bag containing his lightsaber, or what was left of it. He pulled the saber out and placed it beside him on the bed. I immediately pulled out my Saber repair kit and placed it on his beside table.

He then pulled out a smaller satchel and opened it. He gave a small laugh as he peered inside then tipped the item into his hand. I recognized it as the stone I had given him on his thirteenth birthday. He closed his hand around the tiny rock and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

After a few minutes of meditation he opened his eyes, I saw a peace in there I hadn't seen in a long time.

Then Obi-wan began his tale.

"Since I have retrieved my memories I have been able to piece together what happened into a much more coherent story. Understand many of my reactions and feelings at the time were because I didn't know any better. The last you saw me was fighting on the pirate ship."

~*~*~*

He was captured.

Obi-wan knew when it was pointless to struggle. His training told him it would be far more effective to save his energy for a more opportune time of escape then waste it in futile gestures. He had been fighting beside his master when a blast had separated them. He fought valiantly and stood his ground, but even a Jedi Apprentice can be overwhelmed at fifty to one odds.

Frankly he was rather proud of the account he gave of himself. There weren't too many Jedi, alive or dead, who have fought twenty men in open combat to their defeat before being taken down.

He had been tied up and frog marched to the captain of the slaver ship, a fierce Tolgorain with red ichor like blood dripping from his fangs.

"We caught him! We caught the Jedi!" his lieutenant cried as he hobbled up to bring the captured saber to his captain, the pirate king.

The leader tried to work it by pressing the button. The saber didn't do anything. Obi-wan gave a small smile. He had activated the small self-destruct mechanism he built inside of it so his saber couldn't fall into evil hands.

And his master thought he was off his chump when he placed it in there.

The pirate king roared in anger and struck Obi-wan upside the head with the saber. Obi-wan fell to his knees, stunned by the blow. A trickle of blood started to pour down from his left temple.

"Search him!" The king growled and Obi-wan was stripped of his Jedi robes until he was naked. The king took the pile of cloth and searched the pockets, his black taloned hands putting streaks of grease on the beige cloth. Finally they came upon something in his tunic pocket.

"A stone little Jedi?" laughed the king, "A STONE? I heard Jedi valued strange things, but I didn't know you were convinced we traded in STONE!"

Obi-wan lifted his chin, "Yes, we value different things. Honor, Justice and yes, stones."

The king merely walked up to Obi-wan and gently wound the padawan braid around one of his talons. The king growled so deep in his chest it sounded like a purr.

"Now you belong to me, boy!" the captain hissed as he suddenly tightened his grip on the thin braid and ripped it off. Obi-wan yelped at the unexpected pain. Tears pricked his eyes more at the emotional loss of his symbolic commitment to his master then the pain of its removal.

Quickly on the heels of that pain, the pirate king swung around with Obi-wan's saber and hit him in the head once more.

Obi-wan's world went black.

~*~*~*~

"Contrary to the healer's diagnosis, I believe I had at least two mind wipes before I was taken for training in the slaver camp." Obi-wan commented idly as he set about to repair his saber. I knew Obi-wan thought better while he had something to do with his hands.

"Why was that?" I asked curious.

Obi-wan smiled, "Jedi training and the mind wipe attempted on me on Phindra. I had enshrined those memories in the force once before. So when the pirates did the first mind wipe, they only erased everything after that point. I woke up thinking I was on Phindra and thirteen years old. That was why they performed the second immediately afterward. After that I was taken to the slave training camp."

"What was the training like?" I asked softly

Obi-wan frowned, "It was eerily like lessons here, Master. There were physical activities to keep me in shape. There was a little leisure time. We had classes, and tests and homework. Only the difference was that if we got a lesson wrong, we were physically punished using the complex body controls implanted into our bodies."

"Yes, what was their purpose?"

Obi-wan sat back, "As a pleasure slave it was my job to get into rather trusting and compromising positions with my owners. Should I ever go haywire, they needed a fool proof method of bringing me under control without damaging me or my owner. So the body system was merely a mechanism to deliver pain to certain joints or lock me into place."

"What was the atmosphere of the school?" I pressed

Obi-wan shrugged, "All of us were mind wiped. I think it's a prerequisite to become a pleasure slave. We have to be mild mannered, have no preconceived notions of prudery or appropriateness, and eager to learn. Many of us were woken up with our first memories being someone saying we were late for class."

"How intriguing. Did you learn anything that struck you as odd?"

Obi-wan frowned, "As a jedi we are taught that the beauty of a person is not on the outside, it is what is inside. As a pleasure slave, we were taught much the same thing. Master was master no matter what the species. They had to be pleased, be they male, female or otherwise. It was strange but I think in a way their lessons were more… thorough then the ones at the temple. I'm finding now that I am truly only seeing the body as a casing to carry the soul. It's a rather odd blending of both temple and the slave school's visions. I am going to have to do some more meditation on this later."

I handed him a tool to fix the crack in saber's casing, "Anything else?"

"It just was all we knew, a way of life. We were all told that we were lesser beings then our owners. It was almost a religious aspect to our training. Our masters were superior and it would our purpose in life to please them. In many ways, we had it much easier then our compatriot slaves"

"Except when you misbehaved." I murmured.

Obi-wan chuckled, "Yes, but none of us were given the freedom of thought to realize that misbehavior shouldn't be punished with pain. We just thought it was the way of the world."

"What did you learn?"

"Anything and everything there was to know about sex." My apprentice said without flinching though I could sense that inside he was now cringing at some of the memories of what he did. "I learned how to send any remotely compatible species and quite a few that aren't into convulsions of pleasure. I learned the arts of Massage and that of psychology."

I arched my eyebrows at that statement. Obi-wan chuckled and continued, "Many a time, we whom the masters take to bed often end up becoming confessors as well as lovers. We learned how to sooth emotional pain and give advice. Anything we might become to our masters we learned how to be."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Padawan." I whispered, "Forgive me."

Obi-wan placed a hand on my wrist, "It's over and done now. The mind wipes did me a favor in many ways. It gives me a barrier between me and those memories. As for forgiving you, I find I cannot forgive you for there is nothing to forgive."

I smiled into my apprentice's eyes, "Just say it once."

Obi-wan squeezed my hand, "I forgive you master, for being human and not being able to save me."

"Thank you Obi-wan."

I watched as Obi-wan sat back and continued to work on his Saber. He once again began his tale.

"One day a rather rich and well known client came to the school. He was a dealer, one of the many traders that came to buy us. Only he wasn't in the market for resale. He was there to make a personal purchase for his daughter. Naturally this was a position we all wanted. I was selected because I was top of my class and just a few years older then her. I looked forward to meeting my new master because I had been conditioned that I must please them."

~*~*~*~*

"So what's your name boy?" The man beside him asked.

~*~*~*~*

"One day a rather rich and well known client came to the school. He was a dealer, one of the many traders that came to buy us. Only he wasn't in the market for resale. He was there to make a personal purchase for his daughter. Naturally this was a position we all wanted. I was selected because I was top of my class and just a few years older then her. I looked forward to meeting my new master because I had been conditioned that I must please them."

~*~*~*~*

"So what's your name boy?" The man beside him asked.

"I don't have a name, master." He replied evenly. He examined the man next to him carefully. While the man wasn't going to be HIS master, if he understood family structures right, this was his master's master. Which meant he must obey this man, but his own master's orders came first.

He was trained in reading people. This man seemed to be very competent at his job, talented but with no real substance to him. His trade was all he knew. He was nothing deeper then that. But the fact he was purchasing a rather expensive companion for his daughter showed that he either cared about his girl, or wanted to keep her distracted. This man's instructions to him before he handed him off to his mistress would prove which it was.

The man chuckled, his hair which would have once been a rich black was streaked with grey. He looked as if he was still physically fit enough to take on any of his bodyguards in a fight.

The slave allowed himself a slight smile. He bet he could defeat any of those bodyguards. As a pleasure slave, he was also highly trained in physical combat. One might never know when your master will need defending.

"I'll let my girl take care of that for you. She always was a tender hearted thing." The master sighed. "Listen boy, and listen well. Normally anyone in my family position shouldn't need to purchase a pleasure slave, we should have people flinging themselves at us. I know I and my sons have trouble beating them off with a stick. However my little girl is different."

"Different master?" The new slave asked softly

He sighed, "Let's just say she wears a mask for a reason. I love her, I'm her father, but even I can't stand to look at her unmasked face."

They arrived at the great entry hall of their plantation home. The new slave watched as a group of three men came walking up to the master. He could see by their coal black hair that these were relatives. Sons perhaps.

He bowed to them. He could easily see that one was unnecessarily cruel. He was glad he wasn't going to be under that one's power. That one would cheerfully torture him just for the pleasure of hearing him scream.

The second one had a weak will. He was a little disappointed he wasn't going to be with this one. This one would let him do what he wished. In time, he might even be in charge.

The Third was more interested in playing in the bedroom then in anything else. The second that one was dismissed he went to a serving wench who was all too happy for the attentions.

Finally the doors opened. He immediately knelt on the floor. The person was covered from head to toe in dark grey robes that completely hid the figure beneath. The hood covered everything except for the expressionless grey mask.

"Father, welcome home." A feminine voice said from behind the mask.

"Child." The father smiled as he kissed his daughter on the mask's cheek. "I have brought you a gift."

Normally the reaction to being given a pleasure slave was one of surprise and joy. Pleasure slaves from his school were prestigious, highly sought after prizes. There were waiting lists for graduates of his school.

Her reaction was anything but the expected.

"Father… I thought we had been through this already." she said rather upset. "I don't like this OR this part of the family business."

The man simply placed his hands on his shoulders, "I will not have you shut yourself away from the world. You need to enjoy life more. You need companions."

"So you buy me one?" She asked, her voice taking on a menacing tone. He watched as her brothers shivered in fear. "I will not…"

"Dare you reject my gift?" The father growled.

The girl sighed, "No father. Come along. Let's get you some clothes."

He immediately got up and followed her out of the hall. They walked in silence as they exited the palace and started along a path to a small cottage he saw in the distance.

"You must be cold." She said softly, "here."

To his astonishment, she took her outermost robe straight off her own back and covered him against the chilled spring air. He gratefully wrapped his barely clothed body in the warm wool.

"Won't you be cold, Mistress?" He asked

He heard the soft chuckle emit from her mask, "Cold has never bothered me. I've been cold all my life, stranger. What is your name?"

"I don't have one mistress." he replied, "You could give me one."

There came a soft laugh, "Perish the thought! I wouldn't dream of taking that unique opportunity from you."

He was taken aback again, "Chose my own name? What would you like me to chose?"

She sighed, "Whatever will make you happy. However, since you haven't been trained to make decisions for yourself we'll just pick something temporarily. How does Ben suit you?"

"Whatever you wish Mistress." He replied.

The girl stopped in mid stride and faced him, he looked back into that black mask. He felt a little trickle of fear. Her stance clearly said she was angry, though he had no idea what he did to anger her.

She gave a small sigh, "I am not mad at you. I'm mad at my father. I'll be honest. I don't like slaves. I don't like people sucking up to me. I'm tired of it."

"But I am what I am, Mistress." he replied softly, "I need to please you."

"You want to please me?" She asked

He nodded.

"Then don't try to please me." She stated flatly, "I don't need a slave, I don't want a slave. I'm capable of taking care of myself. I don't need someone to cook my food or wash my dishes. I rather like the idea of throwing a shirt on the ground and seeing it there the next time I pass. I have no wish to satisfy any sexual desire. What I do need is a friend."

"Friend, mistress?" He asked

She sighed, "I know this won't mean anything to you now but a friend is someone who backs you up when you need it and takes you down a peg when you deserve it. An Equal."

"But, I am not your equal. You were born, I was created. We are different, Mistress." He said softly

There was a soft sigh from her as she turned to walk again, "This is going to take a lot of work. My name isn't Mistress. It's Electra. Mistress was my mother. Call me mistress again and I will rip your tongue out."

"Yes, Electra." He said softly

She chuckled, "One step at a time, we will figure out who you are. All we need is time."

With that mysterious remark, they walked into her cottage. She took off one more layer of her robes so she was dressed in a loose black shirt, gloves and loose breeches. The mask seemed to be part of a hood that covered her entire head.

She waved about, "My home is yours. Mich-liel's clothes should fit you until we can find some of your own. I don't have a room for you so I guess you'll sleep in the guest room if that's alright."

"I thought I would sleep in your room." He said rather dolefully. He was really beginning to like her, she was like some of his friends back at the school. He immediately sensed there was loneliness inside of her. It was his duty to relieve it.

She laughed, "Trust me on this one. You don't want to."

A man about sixty year of age, with orange skin and blue hair walked in. He walked with the stiffness of a long time manservant. The girl waved him over, "Mich, we now have a permanent resident for our open bed room. I don't suppose we could borrow a few sets of your clothes."

The man laughed, "Electra, he can have a few. I was looking for something to do with those hideous blue outfits."

Electra snorted, "I TOLD you that shade of sky blue wasn't your color. But did you listen to me? NOOOOO."

The man picked up a pillow and tossed it at her, "How was I to know I was supposed to take fashion advice from a person who's entire closet consists of varying shades of Grey."

Electra simply tossed her head, "At least I match. I'll go fix his room while you dig out something for him to wear."

"Mis…. er… Electra…. I don't wish to be waited upon." He tried to protest. It was his job to wait upon her. This whole situation just seemed wrong.

"Until you have chosen a name, I'll treat you like the guest you are. Once you have a name, you're family. Then you get your own damn Lum." With that she ran up the stairs two at a time.

Mich touched his shoulder, "Don't worry lad. Everything will make sense soon enough. Let's just say that you have landed the best position in the universe."

"You mean she expects nothing of me other then my duties?" He asked excitedly. The best possible situation he could hope for as a pleasure slave would be to have a kind hearted master that didn't call on him to perform his duties too often and let him spend the rest of his time pretty much free.

Mich smiled, "Even better, she expects you not to do them at all."

~*~*~*~*

"Very intriguing." I said as my apprentice concentrated on the power source of his saber.

Obi-wan smiled, "I was knocked for a bit of a loop, let me assure you. I was taken even further aback when she absolutely refused to let me serve her in any way. I quickly discovered the only method of punishment that she'd implement would be a harsh word and there were precious few of those."

"Very kind." I murmured.

"She was, extremely so. There was part of her that was a marshmallow, yet she revealed a soul of Durasteel. There aren't many in this universe that would call a four hundred year old hutt a moron. She treated people based on their merit. Many people that I thought were old friends of hers turned out to be fellow slaves. Every single one of them so loyal they'd cheerfully die for her." Obi-wan murmured.

"What happened while you were with her?"

"The first month, I rarely left the house and I barely saw her. I spent most of my time attempting to figure out how to seduce her. She expected I would pump my fellow slaves for information so she put them on alert. Every time I talked to one of them I got a lesson about what was really going on with me. How I was mind wiped, how I really was someone else, how she was going to help me find who I was or adjust and make a life with her." Obi-wan smiled, "I grew to love her as the others did."

"Love Obi-wan?" I pressed

Obi-wan nodded, "You have to remember. I didn't remember anything other then her and the school. The school was geared towards meeting her. She was all I knew, she was everything to me. I will say this with all honesty, master. If you had shown up and offered me my life back, I wouldn't have taken it."

I understood why she used the slaver device on him when she arrived to knock him out. He wouldn't have left her willingly otherwise. I began to admire the woman even more. It took a certain kind of moral fiber to set free the thing you loved most in the world, even when it didn't want to leave you.

"I think that was the first and last time she ever used it." Obi-wan sighed as he dropped his crystal into the saber. He attempted to turn it on but it merely fizzled.

I smiled, "I think the harmonics are off. The self destruct blast may have disturbed them."

Obi-wan smiled, "Of course. Needless to say, I am glad she did return me. I'm only terrified of what will happen to her when she returns."

"Why?"

Obi-wan cracked open his case and pulled out the tuner. "Her family. Her brothers are vying for position to be the new head of the family. Her father won't last much longer. None of the brothers have half her strength, inspire a quarter of the loyalty or have a third of her intelligence."

"Sounds like her father will chose her." I stated.

Obi-wan smiled, "Her father already has. The errands he's sending his daughter on are merely methods of getting his underlings used to her while giving the brothers the impression they can wheedle a place with the father while sister is away. That way when he hands the reins over, the brothers don't see it coming and his underlings are already hers."

I whistled, I had always wondered how these crime bosses with large families managed the peaceful transition from one leader to another with a minimum of squabbling. "So she's to be the leader. Does she know it's coming?"

Obi-wan nodded, "Yes, she's already making deals with the local Hutts. She's planning on buying out their Smuggling business and selling them her slaver business in trade. Any slaver branches that are extra, and there will be some, will be given to her brothers, something to keep them entertained and not angry with her for taking over. Making it look as if she was splitting the family assets evenly."

"Smuggling Obi-wan?" I asked

He shrugged, "She said it's a lot better then slaving. To her anyone stupid enough to purchase what's smuggled deserved what they got."

"She seems to be able to take care of herself." I replied

Obi-wan sighed, "Yes, but the best laid plans always go awry. The second eldest will probably sell her his part of the business and cheerfully be a minor aid to her. Her youngest will take a portion of the pleasure slave business and spend more time using the merchandise then selling it. It's her ruthless, amoral eldest brother I am worried about. That, and what her father will do to her when he finds out she returned me to the Jedi instead of killing me."

"Do you think she's in danger?" I asked

Obi-wan looked directly into my eyes. "Extreme danger."

"Why does she wear a mask?" I asked changing the subject. I didn't particularly like the loyalty to this criminal mastermind that I saw in Obi-wan's eyes.

Obi-wan sat back and ran a hand through his hair.

"It was explained to me once by Mich. It wasn't a happy tale…"

~*~*~*

Ben laughed as he threw a muja fruit stone at Mich. The old man had a propensity for telling extremely bad jokes.

It had been only two months since he came here and he felt as if a lifetime had past. His master was more then kind to him. She treated him like an equal. He had books to read, companions to chat with and all the food he could eat. Only one thing wasn't satisfied.

One of the serving maids, a white twilik girl, brought him his drink with a wink. He smiled at her and nodded. She giggled and wandered off. He knew she'd be warming his bed when he got there.

Electra had done wonders to enlighten him to the truth. He now knew he had a past that he had merely forgotten, rights that had been trampled on and unnatural desires programmed into his psyche. Knowing the truth was always half the battle she had said. The fact he probably had a home somewhere gave his soul the prop it needed to break through many other automatic reactions.

He had been slowly getting closer to Electra. It was rather ironic, the more signs of independent thought he showed, the less he needed to satisfy the programmed need to please her. And yet, the more he stood on his own, the more she took him into her confidence and the more he knew she was a truly remarkable woman.

She was the kind that it would be an honor and a privilege to serve. His need to please her more arose from his admiration for her.

In a home of chaos and intrigue, she created a haven to trust and order. In a world of bondage she gave as much freedom as she could. She brought meaning to the expression, "honor among thieves." She was just to all those who came to her for judgement, kind to those who needed help and merciful to those who made mistakes.

He desperately wanted to return many of the gifts she had given him. Giving her someone to talk to didn't nearly seem like enough, no matter what she said. He had offered in earnest to share her bed. It wasn't an offer born of need from psychological programming or pity for how alone she seemed. It wasn't even born out of sheer gratitude. He genuinely wanted to spend a night with her, giving her the human contact that had been denied her so long.

She had refused, saying they would both regret it if they had.

Unfortunately all the enlightenment in the universe wouldn't do a thing about the hormonal implants inside him. After the first month of celibacy he was nearly climbing the walls until she called a doctor in to examine him. As a result he needed to relieve the pressure he felt with anyone but the one person he'd cheerfully welcome.

Electra now was stretched out on a couch wearing tight black pants, loose white shirt that flowed around her hips and tall black boots. And of course, her ever present gloves and mask.

He could clearly see she had a good figure under those robes. Why did she not feel any need to do anything? Why wouldn't she come to him? Or ask he come to her? Surely she knew that all she had to do was crook her finger in invitation and he'd be warming her bed in a minute. Gladly. Without a single hesitation.

Electra simply stretched and sat up, "I fear you all tire me out. I'm going to bed. Feel free to finish this wine."

"Good night." Ben said softly, trying to pose in an enticing way. Unfortunately he couldn't tell if he was having an effect because of that damn mask. He wanted to rip the thing off, look in her eyes and tell her she was beautiful to him.

"Good night Ben." She replied as she walked away.

After watching her walk up the stairs, others left as well. Soon it was just him and Mich. The old man stretched out and sighed as soon as they were alone.

"So you love her too." The old man said.

"It's hard not to. Tell me about her." Ben demanded. If he couldn't physically touch her, he'd get to know her better then she knew herself. There was more then one way of being inside someone.

"Oh you mean about her mask." Mich chuckled, "Sooner or later everyone asks.   I'll tell you the tale Young Ben."

"Please." He replied. "Why does she wear it?"

Mich leaned back into story telling pose, "To understand why she wears it, I have to go back before she was born. Her father was married to a woman and she had three children by him. Three sons. While he loved his wife, the children would quickly prove to be a disappointment. Unfortunately, shortly after the youngest son was born, the woman died."

"Disease?"

"No, assassination. You've stopped a few on Electra, you know how prevalent they are."

Ben nodded, "Of course. Where did Electra come from."

"Her father found comfort in the arms of a pleasure slave for a while. As soon as he found out the woman was pregnant he declared her mistress of his house. Thereby making the child a legal heir without having to marry the woman."

"I take it that her mother wasn't too keen on this arrangement."

"Actually she was quite happy with it. She was mistress of the house and answered to no one by the man of the house. The man of the house seemed very attentive and doting to her. That was until the baby was born. As soon as Electra was born any and all affection he had for his mistress flew to the child. At first the mistress didn't mind, after all she still had her power among the house. Slowly her own power began to erode because her place in the house is only as valid as her place with the master."

"So she plotted to get it back?" Ben prompted.

Mich nodded, "Yes. At first she tried seducing her way back, but Electra's father would have none of it. Finally she determined the only way to get her place back would be to destroy Electra's place. She was jealous of Electra because she was used to being the beautiful one. Electra was such a beautiful child. Large Blue eyes, flowing black hair, bright smile, always laughing. Oh she was a ray of sunshine for all of us."

Ben quickly saw where this was going, "Acid?"

Mich nodded, "Salt acid while the child was asleep in her bed to be precise.    I was the first to hear the child's screams and the first in the room. I watched as that beautiful cherubic face melted away before my eyes. Thank your chosen deity I had the presence of mind to quickly toss the girl into the pool to neutralize the acid before it completely ate through her skull and killed her brain. I can still remember the look of utter betrayal in that poor eight year old girl's face when her own mother threw the second vial on her."

Mich dashed away a few tears. Ben frowned, "Could the doctors not do anything?"

Mich sighed, "The acid had run so deep it had started to eat away at the bone and destroyed many nerves. Doctors can repair damaged nerves but cannot regrow dead ones. The only people who can do that are Jedi healers and there is no way a Jedi would help the likes of our family."

Ben nodded, no matter how wonderful Electra was, she was the scion to a criminal empire that rivaled any Hutt's and an enemy of the republic. "So you told her there was no hope for her."

Mich sighed, "Yes. Oh it hurt to watch people run from her, frightened of her face and hands. Her hands were also damaged you see. She had tried to shield herself once the pain started and some acid fell on her hands, rotting them away as well. That is why she wears the gloves."

"So the idea of a mask came about."

"I helped her make her first mask. Since then I have only seen her face once, a few years ago. Her father had requested she remove her mask for her sixteenth birthday party. Many people threw up and ran out of the room frightened."

"And you?" Ben asked

Mich sighed, "Despite her face being ruined she still had lovely black hair and the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen. But her face was more like a skull then a face. One could see her teeth beneath the cheek."

~*~*~*~

Obi-wan finished adjusting the harmonics on his saber and powered it up flawlessly. The blue blade shot up from the hilt in hummed a perfect middle C.

"I asked her that night, if I could see her face. I begged, pleaded and got on my knees. She just refused. I then begged her to let me touch her. I told her I'd cheerfully wear a blindfold. She wouldn't even consider it. She pulled rank for the very first and last time and ordered me out of her room. But not before I stole a kiss to the mouth of her face mask." Obi-wan said softly

"Tell me about the journey home."

Obi-wan shrugged, "Not much to tell. She asked me to accompany her on a business trip. When I asked her where we were going, she refused to say. I had thought it was my chance to seduce her. I went to her in the middle of the night. Master, she even sleeps with that damn mask. She was awake and pointing a pistol at my heart before I was halfway to her bed. I begged her to let me touch her somewhere. Before she could protest I gave her a foot massage."

I chuckled, "A foot massage Padawan? Why didn't you tell me you could do that? I'd have demanded your services a long time ago."

Obi-wan smiled at my poor joke and continued his story, "We landed on coruscant, I didn't know where I was. I watched in fascination as all these Jedi came pouring out of the temple shouting these three syllables 'O-bee-wan'. I thought she was going to turn herself in and had taken leave of her senses. Suddenly she turned to me and whispered, "Welcome home." When next I woke I was in this bed with my memories back."

"What have you learned Obi-wan?" I asked softly

"If she hadn't left me abruptly and forced me into the temple's arms, I would not have gone willingly. I would have fought her, saying I didn't want my memories back, that I was happy where I was."

"And now that you have them?"

"I am glad I got them back and am eternally grateful to her for doing what she did. She gave me what I needed and not what I wanted."

"You do realize she loved you." I said.

Obi-wan smiled softly, "Yes. Why else would she go to such lengths to do what was right. Love does inspire us to do strange things."

"And now?"

Obi-wan looked me in the eyes, "I am glad that I am back, Master. This is my place. This is where I belong."

I smiled my first real smile since Obi-wan disappeared. I now knew he was going to be fine. Perhaps a little different, but his soul had been untouched.

I reached into the box on Obi-wan's lap and retrieved the last satchel. I pulled out the contents of it and uncurled the braid into my palm. Using a bit of the force I attached it to a tuft of hair just in front of his ear. I trailed my fingers along the length of the braid.

"Welcome home Padawan." I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. My apprentice then reached up and we embraced each other in a hard hug.

"It's good to be home master." Obi-wan whispered into my ear, "It's very good to be home."

~*~*~*~*~*

Epilogue:

I had so hoped that it would prove that he had been born a slave.

I know, selfish of me, but it was true. If he had been born into bondage it would have meant there was no past for me to return him to and that life with me would have been marginally better then his previous life.

He could have stayed with me, I could have seen him grow into his own person. It was a joy beyond measure to watch a mind and a soul more beautiful then his body unfold before me.

I had built a dream around him. A lovely lovely dream. My vision was that he grew to be a strong willed, vibrant man. As independent and free of thought as any freeborn. We'd fight, we'd argue and butt heads, but always we'd remain friends.

Oh that was a precious part of the treasure. His friendship would have been worth any price or pain. He was my bright-untainted light. My credential to the world of the living. The one thing I managed to touch that hadn't turned as ugly as me.

My fantasy didn't end there. I had merrily built cloud castles for him. I dreamed one day he'd meet someone and I'd get to see that breathtaking face in the first blush of love. His mind and heart would kindle. I had pictured her everything from comely blonde to homely brunette. From princess to his fellow slave. It didn't really matter, so long as they loved each other.

I would have helped to keep the romance secret. Listened when he moaned about how difficult it was being separated from his love or his rapturous descriptions of her virtues. I'd have cheerfully smuggled messages or visits. Then, after maybe a few years, I dreamed I'd be handed his deed and in turn hand it to him. I'd gleefully watch as he rent it in two. We'd drink a toast as we watched it burn in my fireplace.

Then I imagined visiting him with his wife and their children. My fondest fantasy was about holding a baby with his eyes in my arms and listening to his stories about the latest crops. His wife would pop her head out of the cottage to tell us dinner was ready.

It was a similar to every dream I had for any of my slaves. I'd present each of them with enough money to start themselves in a business and move where they wanted. Only Ben would refuse out of pride. However I'd convince him saying it was back wages.

That dream was shattered when I learned the truth. I had run his DNA in a cross-referencing program I had developed that took about three months to complete. Ninty-nine percent of the time it would find the birth record as being in a slave camp. I found his on a free world along with the record he'd been given to the Jedi.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the satchel I had snatched from the box. If I remembered what I read about Jedi right, they'd never miss this. When they recut his lovely hair into the padawan style they'd leave a little long in the back to replace what he lost.

And my only reminder of him. I stole it, I admit it. I am a criminal after all.

I pulled out the tiny bundle of hair and stared at it. I couldn't feel it in my hands or on my cheek as I longed to, the nerves there had died long ago. Instead I brought it up to my nose to smell.

I was now his enemy. Just as crime was my birthright, justice was his. While I had ethics about which crimes I was willing to commit, I felt no compunction about doing the ones I did.

I wouldn't be surprised if he made it a life's quest to hunt my family down and destroy it.

Good.

I have often longed for death to come to me early. I could think of no better way to leave this life then fall beneath his sword.

I put my treasure back in the satchel and tucked it into my pocket. I set my ship back for the blackness of space and the darkness of my life.

But for a little while, I had light it's self.

How many others can say as much?

~*~*~*

-Tia.... Verdicts everyone?