Stormy Part One Stormy blue-green eyes gazed out from under a close-cut crown of downy ginger hair. Small arms were folded tightly beneath a heavy frown and little legs that could not reach the floor swung back and forth, kicking the rungs of the chair he sat upon. The child watched the two arguing adults with obvious disapproval. "This is great, Cyndi, just great! What in the hell were you thinking?" the Miith'yn man raged at his younger human companion, balling his hands threateningly. The teenage girl flinched as if expecting to be struck but did not back down. "Shut up, Z'ior," she snapped, her green eyes hard and determined. "And watch your language in front of the kid. Look, Nah'boor didn't say the kid was one of those Jedi brats, I didn't know until I snagged him. All I was told was where and when, and you sure seemed anxious enough to take the Lords' money when they offered us the job!" Cyndi flung back at her boyfriend. She kept herself from pointing out that she had been against taking the job offer from the highly criminal, highly dangerous spice-syndicate called the "Midnight Lords" in the first place. Getting mixed up with gangs like theirs could be very profitable, but it could also be very deadly. "What's done, is done, so we're just going to have to make the best of it," the pretty, young redhead sighed at last. "But to kidnap a Jedi... we'll have Knights crawling all over this place!" Z'ior shook his head. Miith'yn's looked mostly human, except for their patterned orange skin. At twenty-one, he was five years Cyndi's senior. "Not if we're careful," Cyndi countered. "He was alone; nobody knows what happened, for all they know he wandered out of the play area on his own. And we've only got to hold him until Nah'boor picks him up anyway," the girl glanced at the pouting three-year-old seated on the chair watching them and decided that that was a good thing, the child looked like he could be quite a handful. "I not go with N'boor," Obi-Wan interjected decidedly, having paid close attention to everything the adults had said. "I go home. Mast'a Embry gonna be really upset with you when she finds out you made me leave the playground. She told me to stay. You'll be in big trouble," the little boy warned. Deciding he had stayed here long enough, and he was going back to the Temple right now, Obi-Wan slid down off the big chair. Z'ior grabbed the child by the scruff of his shirt, picking Obi-Wan up and roughly depositing the little Initiate back in the chair. "Sit still and shut up, brat," he snarled. "You're gonna stay right here until we tell you otherwise, got it?" Obi-Wan's sensitive spirit recoiled at the unfamiliar affront that the man's anger presented to his tender senses. Momentarily cowed, Obi-Wan nodded sullenly and settled back into the chair. Cyndi rolled her eyes. "You've got such a way with children, Z'ior," she said dryly, surprised that the tyke didn't burst into tears over her companion's harsh handling. "I don't like the little brat. He's trouble, this whole thing is trouble!" the Miith'yn said irritably. "I'll agree with you there," Cyndi nodded, a touch of the I-told-you-so that she was keeping under control sneaking into her voice. She was no less displeased than Z'ior to learn that they had just become the kidnappers of a tiny Jedi Initiate, but what were they supposed to do? Put him back? She'd be caught in five minutes, and besides, the Lords would kill them, probably literally. "What do the Lords want with the kid anyway?" she wondered aloud. "Got me," Z'ior shrugged indifferently, wondering the same thing. "All Nah'boor said was something about having some questions for him. What he hopes to learn from a baby like that is beyond me." Obi-Wan didn't really know what was wanted of him either, but his small frown deepened. More people wanted to ask him questions? He'd just gotten through answering a ton of questions. Why did everyone seem so interested in him suddenly? This day had started out looking quite exciting for the tiny Jedi Initiate. Being released from the crèche for any reason was cause for great excitement to the child, and when he learned he was to accompany Master Della Embry out into the city he quickly became the envy of all his friends. Master Embry was tall and pretty with blue eyes and black hair. She had taken him lunch and talked gently with him. Then she took him to the Security force station and held him on her lap while a large man in a blue uniform with a shiny badge on his shirt asked the young Initiate many questions. The officer let the child play with the badge as he gently coaxed Obi-Wan to remember something that had happened a few days before... Obi-Wan was puzzled, he didn't understand the questions they had asked him, or rather, he had understood the questions, he had simply not understood the reason behind them. Still, he had answered as best he could, and the officer seemed happy. Master Embry had been pleased too, and told him that they would go out together again in a few weeks to - to... the child struggled with the unfamiliar word... tes- tisti- testify, that was it. Obi-Wan wasn't really sure what that meant, but it seemed to mean going out with Master Embry again, so it sounded good to him. Master Embry had a few more things to say to the officer, but they wanted to speak alone, so she let Obi-Wan run off to play in the station's large play area not too far away. At first he had played with two little bothan children, chasing each other around through the colorful tubes and slides and romping through the clear cages of fist-sized multi-color balls. Obi-Wan enjoyed that. He would use bursts of the energy that he could not yet control, what the Masters at the Temple called the Force, to fling handfuls of the balls up in the air so they rained down on the children like harmless, rainbow hail. The other children's parents came for them and Obi-Wan was left to play alone. Then... then he couldn't quite remember what happened. He remembered Cyndi; she had met him at the bottom of one of the slides. There was a small bottle in her hand that that she sprayed in his face. For a moment, he thought it smelled kind of sweet, like some of the purple and orange flowers that blossomed in the Temple gardens, then he didn't remember anything else until he woke up in the girl's arms on their way here. "I wanna go home!" Obi-Wan stayed on the chair, but started kicking the lower rungs violently with his small heels. "I wanna go home, I wanna go home!" he chanted, not quite whining, but very near. "I said SHUT UP!" Z'ior snapped, rounding on the child and slapping him in irritated, anxious annoyance. Obi-Wan clamed up immediately, his small eyes going very wide. Nobody had ever struck him in anger before, not in his entire life. Tears welled up in his innocent turquoise eyes, but he struggled not to let them fall. "Don't do that, Z'ior!" Cyndi reprimanded. "He's just a baby." "Not a baby," Obi-Wan huffed, his tiny chin trembling as he tried to fold himself into the smallest bundle possible, pulling his knees up to his chest and clasping his tiny arms around them protectively. "'Course you're not," the teenage girl soothed gently, running a hand over the little Jedi's downy head. "You're a big boy, right?" she smiled at him. "Don't worry, it's okay, we're not going to hurt you," she said, casting a pointed glare at Z'ior. Obi-Wan peeped at her over his knees. His glistening eyes were... not afraid, no, she did not see the fear that she would expect in one so young, but his eyes were confused and hurt as if the child could not comprehend what was going on and why he had been ripped out of his safe, secure world and brought here. Cyndi's young heart went out to the child. "Hey there, it's okay," she tried again to offer comfort, laying her hand on his arm. "My name's Cyndi, what's yours?" Obi-Wan did not answer, but pressed his lips together stubbornly and pulled further back into the chair. The child was not angry, but she could tell right away that he had a stubborn streak a kilometer long. Z'ior just rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "He's a little brat, Cyndi, just let him be." Cyndi ignored her acidic companion and continued trying to coax Obi-Wan's name out of him. "I want to be your friend," she coerced. "You took me away," Obi-Wan stated accusingly. Cyndi shrugged. She couldn't argue that one. "Okay, kid, don't tell me your name, but I can't keep calling you 'kid'." For a moment, the sixteen-year-old gazed thoughtfully into Obi-Wan's turbulent eyes. One moment, the child's large eyes looked blue, the next, they looked green. "Boy, you're a real storm cloud," she shook her head. "Well Stormy, I guess that's what I'll call you until you want to give me something else that you go by." Cyndi waited for a few moments, but the Initiate obviously seemed to consider it too much of a confidence to give his name away to these people who had taken him away without permission and refused to let him go back. "I hungry," Obi-Wan said petulantly, his face still half-hidden behind his knees. "Okay, Stormy, let's go get you something to eat," Cyndi took his hand and half led, half dragged him out of the chair towards the apartment's small kitchen area. Z'ior flopped down on the couch to watch holo-flicks while Cyndi tossed a couple of quick-meals in the cooker. She sat Obi-Wan down with a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but upon tasting the soup Obi-Wan declared that it was too hot and acted as if she had intentionally tried to burn his mouth out. Cyndi tried to keep her patience and tossed a few ice-cubes in his bowl, stirring until they dissolved. She spooned a bite into Obi-Wan's mouth only to have it come right back out again with a disgusted exclamation from the little boy. "Too cold!" Obi-Wan protested. Cyndi made a face and swept the bowl away again. "Okay, Stormy, I'm gonna heat it up one last time and you'd better not say it's too hot again," she warned, putting the bowl back in the cooker. Placing it in front of Obi-Wan once more she dropped his spoon back into it. "Eat," she instructed. Obi-Wan pushed himself back from the table. "Not hungry," he declared. The little Jedi was intentionally being difficult. Cyndi leveled the little boy with a withering glare. Picking him up and carrying him over to the couch she shoved Z'ior's feet off one end and plopped the child down, placing his soup in front of him on a fold-out table. "Okay, kid, now watch the holo and eat your food like a good little-" Cyndi stopped, noticing what Z'ior was watching. Clapping her hand over Obi-Wan's eyes she scowled at her boyfriend. "Z'ior, he can't watch this! Put something else on." Z'ior muttered obscenities under his breath as Cyndi changed the holo to something a little more kid-friendly. An hour later, Obi-Wan's soup was cold again. Finally, Cyndi had to hand feed the tot to get him to eat. Afterward, Z'ior made fun of her while she tossed the dishes in the cleaning unit. "Well, that's one thing I never expected to see, Cyndi, you making spaceship sounds while spoon-feeding a little brat. You reaching an age when your human maternal instincts kick in or something?" he mocked. Cyndi rolled her eyes. "Look, we gotta take care of him until we give him to Nah'boor, so give it a rest." "Speaking of which," Z'ior said, glancing at his chrono, "It's almost time for you to meet his rep down by the space dock. Let him know we have the kid, but he's hot, we don't want to hold him long, got it?" Cyndi nodded. "Right, I'll be back in a bit. Put Stormy to bed as soon as the show's over okay?" It was Z'ior's turn to roll his eyes. "Geez, Cyndi, I ain't no stupid babysitter!" Cyndi ignored him and headed for the door. Obi-Wan looked up when he heard the door close. "Where Cyn'i?" he asked, slowly nursing the cup of bright blue bubbly the person in question had given him earlier. "Out," Z'ior said, flopping down on the couch again. "So don't you give me any trouble, brat, 'cause I ain't as patient as she is." Obi-Wan was silent. Z'ior flipped through the holo channels, looking for something he wanted to watch. "More please," Obi-Wan said, waving his empty glass. Z'ior ignored him. Obi-Wan poked the man in the arm. "I thirsty, more please." "Yeah, yeah, in a minute," Z'ior waved him off. Obi-Wan waited for several minutes. "More please," he patted Z'ior's arm, trying again to get the older being's attention. "Oh, go get it yourself," Z'ior said irritably. Sliding off the couch, Obi-Wan went in to the kitchen to do as his captor suggested, only to find that the cold-keep's handle was too high for him to reach. "I can' reach it," he called. "Leave me alone!" came the irritated response from the next room. Pulling a tall stool out from under the counter, Obi-Wan clambered up onto it. Kneeling on the seat of the backless stool enabled the little boy to reach the cold-keep handle. Once open however, he found that the pitcher of bubbly was on the top shelf, still out of his reach. Standing upright on the stool, he reached for it, grasping the pitcher firmly in both of his little hands. The stool wobbled underneath him. Now that he had the pitcher, Obi-Wan was suddenly at a loss for how to get down from his lofty perch without using his hands. Taking a step backward he tried to find the top rung of the stool with his right foot. However, as soon as he shifted his weight onto the back of the stool it tilted abruptly, falling and spilling the little Jedi and the contents of the pitcher he was holding all over the kitchen floor. Obi-Wan hit his head on the floor and started crying. Z'ior came in to see what had caused the loud crash. Swearing loudly at the mess all over the floor he hauled the crying three-year-old up by one arm. "You okay, brat?" he snapped dispassionately. "Well, you'd better be, 'cause you're worth too much to me to lose yet." "I-I fell," Obi-Wan said, his little voice quavering. "Yeah, I can see that," Z'ior said, making a face at the kitchen floor which was now awash in blue bubbly. "Serves you right for being so dumb, now clean up this mess." He thrust a roll of absorbency sheets towards the child as if the three-year-old was supposed to know what to do with them. Obi-Wan stared blankly and started to wander out of the kitchen. "Oh no you don't," Z'ior stopped him. "You're gonna clean this up, so get to it," the Miith'yn ordered. "Don' wanna," Obi-Wan folded his arms in a pout. He did not like Z'ior at all. Z'ior slapped him, hard. "Don't talk back to me, brat! Do as I say!" Obi-Wan stumbled backward. Sitting down abruptly on the floor amid the spilled bubbly, he started crying again. "Shut up!" Z'ior shouted, his temper beginning to run dangerously high. "Clean it up!" "No! I wanna go home!" Obi-Wan cried. "It's not nice ta hit people! You're not nice, I don't like you!" "You're breaking my heart," Z'ior mocked harshly. Getting up, Obi-Wan tried to dash past Z'ior and out the kitchen doorway but the Miith'yn snagged the little human by the back of his shirt, swinging him helplessly up into the air. Obi-Wan kicked and struggled. "Le' me go! I gonna tell the Masters and you be in big trouble! Le' me go!" Obi-Wan was nearly screaming. Z'ior clapped his hand over the boy's mouth, trying to muffle him. He succeeded, but he also ended up inadvertently covering the child's nose and blocking the little Jedi's ability to breathe. Struggling desperately, Obi-Wan grabbed the hand that was suffocating him and bit down hard on Z'ior's index finger to make him let go. Z'ior howled in pain and jerked his hand away. "Little brat!" he shouted, shaking Obi-Wan roughly and dragging him into the living room. "I'll teach you to bite me!" he threatened angrily, pulling off his belt and yanking the little Jedi across his knees. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was dark outside by the time Cyndi returned to the dingy little apartment that she and her Miith'yn boyfriend shared. Z'ior was stretched out on the couch again, watching porno-vids. "Hey, Cyndi, what's the word? When can we dump the brat?" he called to her, taking another swig from the bottle he was drinking out of. "Tomorrow morning, behind the old warehouse," she answered, heading for the bedroom. Several empty bottles like the one Z'ior was now holding were scattered beside the couch so Cyndi knew it would be best to keep quiet and leave the older man alone as much as possible. Z'ior could be down right nasty when he'd been drinking. The Miith'yn would be pleased to see the credits their contact had given her, but she knew from experience that it was unwise to interrupt Z'ior in the middle of one of his 'vids when he was drunk, even for good news. Cyndi didn't notice the tiny, huddled shape in the corner until she almost tripped over him. Obi-Wan sat with his arms curled around his knees, his shoulders hunched as he faced the corner. "Stormy!" she said in surprise, kneeling down by him. "You should be in bed, what are you doing over here?" she asked, turning the child towards her. Obi-Wan's small face was streaked with tears. "Z-Z'or tol' me ta stay h-here," he cried softly. "How long ago?" Cyndi asked gently, wiping the tears from under his red-rimmed eyes. "I-I don' know. A long time," Obi-Wan sniffled. It seemed like years, especially in his current condition, but after what Z'ior had done to him, the child was not about to risk incurring the irate Miith'yn's wrath again by disobeying. Cyndi cast a caustic look in Z'ior's direction, but the Miith'yn was engrossed in his holo and was not paying the slightest bit of attention to either of them. Scooping the little boy up in her arms, Cyndi carried him into the bedroom. Pulling back the covers, she laid the child on his back and reached for the fastenings of his little tunic. Obi-Wan whimpered at being laid on his sore backside and rolled onto his stomach. Cyndi, not knowing what was wrong, rolled him back over so she could reach his tunic ties. "Hold still, Stormy, you've gotta get ready for bed." Obi-Wan obeyed, but tears of pain spilled down the sides of his small face, wetting the pillow. "H-Hurts," he sobbed in a small voice, his breathing hiccupy. Cyndi looked concerned. "Hurts where, Stormy? What hurts?" "M-my bottom and back," the child breathed between sobs, trying desperately to be brave. "I' stings." Cyndi's eyebrows knit together as she gently rolled Obi-Wan onto his stomach, pulling his tunic up and pushing his little pants down to get a look the problem area. The teenager clenched her jaw when she got a look at reddened flesh that spanned the area from the little Jedi's mid-back down to his thighs. "Z'ior do this to you?" she asked sadly, placing one hand gently on the child's sore, flaming lower back. Obi-Wan nodded into the pillow, still crying and hiccuping softly. "Uh, huh. I-I spilt th' juice an'-an' bit his fin'r. I sorry, Cyn'i! I-I know I not s'posed ta bite..." "Shh, shh," she soothed, rubbing his uninjured, upper back gently. "It's not your fault Stormy. It - it's just the way Z'ior is." Cyndi spoke from personal experience. "N-not right ta hurt people," Obi-Wan cried as Cyndi eased him out of his tunic and spread a clear ointment on his sore back and bottom. Obi-Wan squirmed and bit his lower lip, but held still for her. Cyndi thought he was quite brave for his age. Gently pulling the little Jedi's pants and undies back up, the young woman shook her head. "I guess that's true, but unfortunately not all of life is right little one," Cyndi's voice was sad. She wanted to flatten Z'ior for spanking Obi-Wan so badly, but she couldn't stop him from doing it any more than she could stop the Miith'yn from beating up on her when he felt like it. "I'm sorry he hurt you, I'll try not to let it happen again, okay?" she apologized gently. "'kay," Obi-Wan sniffled. "Cyn'i?" "Mm hmm?" "I-I wanna go home, Cyn'i! Please, please take me home!" Obi-Wan pleaded, turning small, tear-filled eyes towards her. Cyndi felt her heart wrench. Who could resist the tearful plea in those innocent eyes? "I can't, Stormy," she said sadly. "It's too late for that." Obi-Wan turned his face into the pillow, his tiny shoulders shaking with sobs. "Oh, Stormy," she cried miserably, "Don't be that way! I would take you back if I could, but - but it's not up to me." Obi-Wan continued to cry. "Look, nothing bad's gonna happen. There's this guy, Nah'boor, and he just wants to ask you some questions, and then you'll be going home, okay?" Cyndi lied to him, lied to herself. She didn't really know what Nah'boor's plans were. Obi-Wan did not answer, so the teenager tucked him in and got up. "Cyn'i?" Obi-Wan's tiny, tousled head popped up urgently. "Don' go, Cyn'i! Stay wi' me," he begged. "Please?" Cyndi's heart melted. "Okay, Stormy, I'll stay with you, but just 'til you fall asleep, okay? "'kay," the child agreed, scooting over to make room for Cyndi on the bed beside him. Cyndi lay down partially on top, partially under the covers and Obi-Wan snuggled up to her, resting his head against the girl's shoulder. Cyndi only meant to stay until Obi-Wan was asleep, but soon, she ended up dozing off as well.