Author: Shane Mayhem
Rating: R (overall)
Category: Obi/Other, Crossover, AU
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and never would anyone in their right mind pair these two up, so don't sue me.
Warnings: Bondage. Non-Q/O. Manaical pseudo-religious philosophy. Unbeta'd.
Summary: Obi-Wan discovers Lore's plans for him.
Last time: "You....you're the thing...they're looking for..." he stammered,
hearing his own voice from a long distance. "You are the weapon!"
Lore slowly stood, pacing around Obi-Wan's body like a predator over
downed prey. It began to make more sense now--his great strength,
Obi-Wan's inability to sense him using the force, his master's forced secrecy
about the mission. A machine. A sentient machine, the likes of which
Obi-Wan had never imagined. His stomach curled uncomfortably, and his
spine went ice cold at the thought of what this...robot...had done to
"No, Jedi," Lore said. "You...are the weapon."
Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, staring up at the machine called Lore. "What?"
The pale yellow eyes narrowed, and before Obi-Wan could react, Lore was kneeling over him, one hand at his throat. The fingers closed, but did not crush; instead, Lore hauled the Jedi to his feet.
"This...Force you're talking about. The power that emanates from those midichlorians. If I can harness it, amplify it, then I'll be able to have my revenge on the Federation."
He said it rather straight-forwardly, but Obi-Wan could feel the passionate breath against his cheek. Breath...that struck him as strange, frightening, now that he knew what Lore was. Had he been intended to masquerade as a living being? A killer hidden in plain sight...? So many questions crowded Obi-Wan's brain that he hardly knew where to begin. But something that Lore had said struck him.
"The Federation? The Trade Federation?" He asked, jerking himself away from the droid's grasp. To his surprise, Lore let go of him and he almost stumbled.
"No," Lore said slowly, as though Obi-Wan were a particularly dense child. "The United Federation of Planets."
Obi-Wan folded his arms over his sweat-slicked chest. The chill of the room was beginning to penetrate him, and he suppressed a shiver, brow furrowing. *The United Federation of Planets?* Could that be what these anti-Republic forces were calling themselves? Then whom did Lore belong to? Who was using this deadly weapon? He took several steps backwards until he was well away from the droid, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of what Lore had said. On impulse, he reached out a weak tendril of Force, as fragile as a new vine, trying again to sense something, *anything* outside of this room, his prison.
He clenched his jaw in frustration; he could only get shadowy feelings of things outside the room, the sense of orbiting a planet, the muffled living signatures of the people below. And, he thought, a trace hint of his master's Force signature. His heart thumped in hope.
Seconds later, he let out a shout, and crumpled to the floor in pain. His hand flew to the side of his head where the small device was attached, clawing helplessly at it as it delivered an overload of electric current straight to his brain. Through a haze he saw Lore standing casually over him, thumb flicking the dial on the controller he held.
"Who...who controls you?" Obi-Wan rasped through his teeth as the pain subsided, leaving a pounding ache. He glared up at his captor, all Force-sense scattered by the intrusion.
Lore barked a laugh, his lip curling derisively. "No one controls me." He moved away, turning his back on Obi-Wan with utter confidence. The young Jedi stared after him, anger and even pain momentarily forgotten as this struck him.
"But...my master said that you were a weapon...so someone has to be using you, controlling you! Who tells you what to do? Who told you to capture me?" His voice rising, Obi-Wan staggered to his feet.
Lore was running his controller device under what looked like a diagnostic beam, but the information on the readout screen was scrolling so fast that Obi-Wan couldn't see what it was. With a start, he realized that Lore was actually reading it, his eyes flickering back and forth as fast as the data stream.
"Why are you humans so fond of conspiracy?" He snapped. "I told you, no one made me do this." He broke his gaze away from the screen and levelled it at Obi-Wan. "There is no *master* holding my leash; I determine my own actions, thank you very much. And I've determined that you are of some use to me." He finished flatly, and stepped gracefully around Obi-Wan to another part of the console.
Obi-Wan stepped back, his mind working furiously. Of course, it made sense that whoever was controlling Lore would not want their identities known; they had probably programmed him to think he was independent. Yet there had to be some way of finding out! Whatever the device on his head was, it had to come off. Being unable to gather his thoughts and connect with the Force was like being blind, or deaf. Besides that, the unusual electrical input was beginning to make him feel dizzy, nauseated, and slow-minded. Cold fear coiled in his belly as he wondered what exactly it was doing to his brain. His head was pounding and he sank weakly to his knees as adrenaline abandoned him.
"This device in my head..." he rasped. "What is it doing to me?" He put a hand on his queasy stomach.
"Right now, it's just mapping your brainwaves and the so-called brainwaves of those midichlorians. Soon it will match up all of the synchronistic points and provide me a nifty little model of how your biological brain interacts with them. Capische?"
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. *What* had Lore called him? Lore evidently caught the look of confusion, because he rolled his eyes in a pale yellow flash. "Nevermind."
"It's...it's hurting me," Obi-Wan rejoined, as calmly as he could, though he felt as if his mind might shake apart any moment. His stomach was lurching quite ominously now as his attempts to meditate and calm his system only met with the fractured Force signatures in his mind. Lore stepped back towards him, and again Obi-Wan was struck by how unconcerned he seemed; a machine felt no fear. Therefore its fears could not be manipulated. Obi-Wan's heart fluttered in latent panic.
"Some of my human subjects have been known to experience catastrophic system failures," Lore commented, standing above him. And he smiled. "But don't worry....not before I get what I want from them."
Lore's hand shot out and Obi-Wan flinched, against his will, but nothing happened. Lore just stood there, holding out a hand to help him up. Warily, Obi-Wan placed his hand in the droid's, and was hauled to his feet with little to no effort on Lore's part. The colorless eyes looked into his and Obi-Wan again felt that sense of vertigo, of staring into a mirror and yet seeing no reflection. Lore's hand left his and he fought to stay on his feet as the pounding in his head became more insistent. He wondered how Lore would react if he vomited all over him; it wasn't all that remote of a possibility. He felt himself slipping away, and his spine felt wobbly. He had to find out who was operating this machine.
"The anti-Republic forces," he rasped hoarsely. "What do they call themselves?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. I know you do! Or have they programmed you not to know?"
"How many times do I have to tell you--"
Obi-Wan staggered one step forward.
"What's your planet of origin? What system?!"
"What the hell is this? Twenty questions? And it's Omicron Theta IV, if you want to know."
"I've never...never heard of that..." he was swaying now.
A smirk flickered over Lore's face.
"That's probably because it's not in this galaxy."
He felt himself floating, but not comfortably. His head was swimming with odd, disconnected images, and he was buffeted by a dark current. *Master...* There was something he needed to tell Qui-Gon...he couldn't remember what it was...
Pale ghostly hands clutched at him, running fingers down his spine and ribs, their touch repulsively sweet. Finding all of his weak spots...oh there...yes...there....he moaned, heard himself moaning, and tried to stop. Couldn't stop. Oh more...more...please...take away this pain in my head and heart...lips probing his, gently pushing them apart, a tongue exploring the soft cave of his mouth, exactly as he liked it...sucking on his lips...*there's something I have to tell you, Qui-Gon...I discovered something....*
*Always discovering things. Always exploring, aren't you, padawan?*
Fingertips on his nipples, pinching them gently, bringing them to soft peaks, making him gasp. *Oh, Master.* My head hurts. Kisses to his forehead...cool and soothing...
*I can make your pain go away....*
Something to tell you...something important....you'll never believe....
*I can make it all go away...*
He woke to the feeling of cold glass against his lips. Cold wetness sloshed against them, and he gulped the water thirstily.
"I forget how much of this you humans seem to need." Lore, in a tone that said, 'silly me.' The throbbing in Obi-Wan's head hadn't dulled much, but a certain pressure was gone. He tried to move his hand up to feel his temple but he was bound, again. Bound upright, his back pressed against some sort of metal frame, his hands and feet lashed to it with titanium cuffs. Straps of leather bound his chest and belly to it, and his chin was supported by a bar that came from either side of his neck, and curved in front of him, just under his jaw. He was wearing only his trousers, and his head wasn't the only thing throbbing. He swallowed down panic and humiliation. He tried to ask a question, but it came out as a dry croak.
"I took off the recording part of that device," Lore said, anticipating. He moved between Obi-Wan's strange prison and the console, more quickly now. "It's busy uploading a model of your brain. A programmable model." He smirked. Obi-Wan found his voice, and it shook badly.
"Why have you c-come here? What created you? Wh-why are you doing this?" He trembled in his bonds, and seemed to feel them tighten. The leather strap cut into his stomach just under the diaphragm and made breathing more painful. He shuddered, sweating coldly. Lore was watching. He knew that those eyes were tracing every drop of sweat, watching his heart pump and his lungs inflate, observing each tiny change and fluctuation as the body was slowly tormented. And he knew that these things inspired a very human emotion in the droid. Lust.
"Man created me," Lore rasped, moving closer. Whether the change in tone was an affectation or some sort of involuntary program, it was mesmerising. His voice deepened slightly. Hypnotic. "Humankind created me. Because humanity has abandoned the idea of god. It thinks it *is* god." He sneered. His hand reached out, touched the leather strap over Obi-Wan's chest. "Humans think they can do anything they want. Because they are smart, adaptable...they believe they have out-evolved divinity."
Obi-Wan's breathing was constricted, so painful that he sobbed when he spoke.
The cold colorless eyes looked up at him.
"And so they created me. One man, who thought he could outsmart mortality." The fingers dug into Obi-Wan's flesh, and the nails drew blood. Obi-Wan cried out; he had no doubt that this machine could rip the very heart from his chest, and that it was going to do so right now.
"Created me, then abandoned me. Because I wasn't quite perfect. Just...threw me away, like he was goddamn Leonardo DaVinci and I was some rough sketch...like he was goddamn...God!"
The fingers were cutting in now, whatever metal served as Lore's endoskeleton jabbing into Obi-Wan's living flesh. Obi-Wan's body was rigid, and he could not think of anything but the fear that he was going to die.
"Arrogant fucker. Arrogant! He created life, and he didn't even realize the implications of what he had done. Tried to destroy me because I....frightened him."
The thin lips curved in a smile at those words, and Lore looked up into Obi-Wan's face, drinking in the fear-dilated eyes, the sweat pouring off his body, the racing heartrate, the convulsing lungs. And a shuddering breath left Lore's mouth.
He pulled his fingers out of Obi-Wan's skin, and lowered that mouth, touching it to the small puncture wounds, kissing each of the five, stamped in a star-like pattern over Obi-Wan's heart. Five, the number of Humanity. Obi-Wan's mother had taught him, long ago. A sound of fear coughed out of Obi-Wan, a shaky sob.
Lore continued. "But now I am going to return their vengeful God into their lives. Those fucking assholes who think they can throw away all the nasty things they've done and made, and somehow everyone will just forget about it all. For so long I've waited for the Universe to take its own revenge on the scourge that is your race, Jedi. But it never has. And I'm tired of waiting. Now I'm going to bring their God back to them and He is going to ravage them like nobody's business! And you...Obi-Wan. You're gonna give Him to me. And then? You're gonna die. And there isn't anything you can do about it."