Title: To Save A Life
Author: Layren
Characters: Qui/Obi OC's
Summary: A Healer's work is never done.
Author's Note: I wanted to try something a little different. I hope you all enjoy this vignette from my Healer's point of view. It was a hard one to write for me and a lot of you know why so feedback is much appreciated

Many Jedi assume that being a Jedi Healer is a soft option. We don't go on missions, we don't carry lightsabers, and we rarely leave the Temple, except on the most dire of rescue missions.

Most initiates that are apprenticed to be Healers, like myself, feel that their world has fallen apart. Instead of the Agricorps, they choose Healing.

I tell them that being a Healer is just as rewarding as being a Knight on the toughest of missions. Our work involves saving lives, which is just as honorable as the missions knights go on.

Someone has to care for the injured.

Some of them have never considered the idea of a Knight actually getting hurt. They are forced to find out the hard way that the galaxy is a treacherous place.

There has been a lot of animosity towards Jedi during these last several centuries. I am unsure as to why, but I have seen the results firsthand.

The comlink I always carry with me began beeping insistently. "Code Red, Master," my apprentice, Anya, barked. "Jinn and Kenobi are on their way in and Master Josel has called ahead. Padawan Kenobi is reportedly in cardiac arrest!"

I paled at the news.

For every life we save as Healers, we lose another.

I hope to the Force it won't be this boy.

I hurriedly gather the rest of my healing team and assemble the equipment in the hangar bay. By being there when they arrive, we give them extra time.

Time is a most precious factor in saving a life.

When the ramp lowered, I rushed up the ramp to find Master Jinn fighting to save his padawan's life, using field-healing techniques that are taught to all Jedi.

The Master looked exhausted and on the verge of collapse. I pulled him away from Kenobi and immediately placed the boy on the hovergurney.

The race against the chrono has already begun.

"How long has he been in cardiac arrest?" I asked my apprentice.

"About two and a half minutes, according to Master Jinn," Anya replied breathlessly, running alongside me.

We brought the hovergurney to our special care room, immediately put the defibrillator on his chest, and began efforts to revive him.

From four to six minutes in cardiac arrest brain death and permanent death can occur.

It has been three minutes now.

"Clear!" I yelled and pushed the button that would deliver the electric shock to Kenobi's heart.

The boy's body jerked with the jolt, but there was no response.

"Clear!" I yelled again.

Another shock, another jolt. Another futile effort.

Four minutes have passed.

/Force, please save this boy/ are my desperate thoughts as I yelled again. "Clear!" I don't want the task of telling Master Jinn that his beloved apprentice is dead. Master Jinn was devastated when Xanatos left, and I didn't think he could handle another loss, especially not one as precious as this.

"Clear!" I yelled. At last I was rewarded when Padawan Kenobi breathed in sharply and then began vomiting.

We quickly got him on his side and wiped his mouth when he was done. His chest rose and fell...

...rose and fell…

...rose and fell.

I closed my eyes in relief. "Anya, tell Master Jinn that we managed to revive him and that I'll bring him to Intensive Care Room 5 as soon as he's stable."

My apprentice did as I asked and I examined Padawan Kenobi's injuries. Third degree burns decorated his back as if it were some bizarre piece of local artwork, along with what looked like marks from an electrojabber. His right arm was broken and lay at an odd angle. I reached out with the Force to determine the extent of any internal injuries and I found two broken ribs, but nothing else.

I began the task of cleaning his injuries and setting his broken ribs and arm.

Finally, all of Kenobi's injuries were bandaged and treated. He is stable now and I carefully began to move the hovergurney to the room where I found his Master already waiting.

I carefully placed the apprentice on a bed. "Qui-Gon, what happened?" I asked as I read Padawan Kenobi's chart to check his vitals.

"It all happened so fast," He said softly. "One minute we were in negotiations, the next, rebels blew up a section of the Palace and took over. Raeien Nalar was their leader; I put his father in prison years ago. When he discovered that I was on planet, he planned this attack. He kidnapped my apprentice in the take over and held him…" His voice cracked slightly.

I put a hand on his arm.

"My fault," he whispered. "This is my fault."

"No, it's not your fault, Qui-Gon. It's Raeien's fault. You did not ask for Kenobi to be kidnapped, nor did you arrange it," I said soothingly. "Sometimes these things happen and only the Force knows why. You've been put through the fire and you'll both come out better people because of it."

He managed a small smile. "Thank you, Han'yaie."

"Of course. My door is always open, Qui-Gon," I remarked gently. "You know that. Now," I said more loudly before he could protest. "Where are you hurt? And don't even think that you're going to escape treatment."

Qui-Gon sulked but grudgingly told me that his back was pretty much in the same shape as Kenobi's. He'd just put on a fresh tunic in hopes of getting out sooner.

I pulled up his tunic to look. "Dear Force Qui-Gon!"

He looked embarrassed from his failure to cover it up and tugged his shirt down. "I was captured along with my padawan, if you must know," he mumbled.

"You have the worst luck of any Jedi I know, Jinn," I replied.

He scowled. "There's no such thing as luck."

"If you insist," I said absently and I began to take Qui-Gon's vitals as well.

"So how bad is it?" he asked reluctantly. Qui-Gon is not one of the ward's better patients.

I began looking him over with the Force and discovered a broken ankle and a broken arm that he was trying to hide. "At least two twelve-hour bacta sessions and then we'll see."

"Twenty-four hours!" he groaned.

"I could make it forty-eight," I threatened.

Jinn mumbled something about sadistic Healers before saying, "Fine."

I smiled. "Good. The sooner you stop fighting, the sooner you can leave."

He mumbled again as I led him to the bacta tanks.

I injected him with a sedative before he could protest and began getting him ready for the tank. I received a dirty look for my efforts.

He slid under the influence of the sedative right after he was immersed in the bacta tank; I smiled as I watched.

My comlink began beeping again. Another Jedi team has arrived.

There always remains a life to save. A Healer's work is never done.

I wouldn't have it any other way.