I was dreading this, Master Windu was supposed to come and meditate with me. This had to be some sort of punishment for some unknown crime that I had committed in a past life. I was getting ready to go down to the elevator when Jasmine grabbed me.

"Anakin," she said, "I hate to disappoint you but we had to tell Master Windu not to come today."

"Really?!" I asked with glee.

"Yeah, this was the only time Dr. Zurdi could fit you in," she said.

"Who?"

"She is our physician. She wants to examine you."

I swallowed hard. Which was worse, a sixty minute conversation about my feelings with Windu sober, or getting poked and prodded by a doctor sober? Chance was right, they need to let us drink here.

"We already took your blood this morning," said Jasmine. "It's just an exam, honey."

"Okay," I said shakily, and followed her as she led the way to a new room through the circle. This is why Padme would laugh at me, I was ready to go into the worse battle and go rescue the Chancellor, who is now a known Sith Lord, from Count Dooku, another known Sith Lord, but I could not handle needles. "Wait. When did you take my blood?"

"About 0500, standard procedure, you did great."

I looked down and saw a little cotton ball on my left arm and some tape. No wonder I dreamed of Qui-Gon taking my Midichlorian count on Tatooine. We went into the room, and there was the doctor sitting behind a desk.

"Hi Anakin," she said, "What are we cutting into?"

"Windu, thank you," I said.

She laughed. "I'll take it from here Jasmine. Thanks."

Jasmine nodded, and left.

"Go ahead and take a seat," she said.

I hopped up on the examination table, and put my hands in my lap, trying not to fidget.

"Well, your labs all come back fine," she said. "I don't see any problems there. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"So tell me about your lifestyle?"

"I'm a Jedi."

"I mean do you drink, smoke, do drugs, sleep around?"

"Pretty sure my wife would kill me before that stuff would. If I drink, it's normally undercover and it's a few sips. Only slept with one woman who I am married to, and the other stuff I am not interested in."

"Okay, you get a lot of exercise with the war and fighting. I am not worried about that," she sighed. "Talk to me about food."

"What is this obsession people have with my food all of a sudden?"

"You're twenty pounds underweight."

"Maybe its all muscle and I am out of shape."

Smiling, she leaned back on the counter, and just stared at me.

I rolled my eyes, "What do you want me to say? I don't eat when I am stressed okay. I don't get hungry."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Yeah you do. Anakin, I need to know the source of your anorexia so Valnaya, the minders, and I can treat it."

"I'm not anorexic."

"Anakin you are 1.88 meters and you weigh 54.5 kg. That is a BMI of 15.4 which is anorexic."

"That is a bunch of numbers," I said. "I'm not really a math guy."

"You built a podracer from scratch using scraps of metal when you were nine years old. You're a math guy."

"Machines I get, math is kind of fuzzy."

She huffed. "Why aren't you eating? Your anorexic, technically."

"I'm not anorexic! I don't have a problem with food. I came here cause I thought someone was trying to make me kill people, but I don't think that is even happening now! Let me go home!"

"Anakin, take a deep breath."

She breathed with me calmly and I just felt my body just relax. "Come on, let's just have a conversation about this. Obi-Wan told Valnaya that he struggled to get you to eat right when you were little and you were in poor health when you came into the order. Has this always been a problem?"

"We were fucking slaves!" I screamed. "What do you think? I learned to survive on a piece of bread, half a bowl of soup, and a piece of fruit. You just learn to be hungry all the time."

"So you are hungry, you just don't want to eat?"

"I don't want to do this," I mumbled.

"Anakin, you're not gonna get better unless you talk."

"Then I am not getting better."

"Then you're not going home."

"You can't do that! Only Duya can, and she says I'm fine."

"Valnaya, Duya, Elli, Dudly, and I all make a decision about who can go home. You have to meet all of our requirements."

"That's shit!"

"That is how this works. You can't cry your heart out in sessions and starve yourself for two and a half months and get a gold star of health, and go home. That's not how this works."

I sighed, and looked at her. "What do I have to do?"

"Gain twenty five pounds."

"I'm only twenty pounds underweight!"

"I don't want you on the verge of anorexia I want you smack dab in the middle of health."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll go to the gym with Chance everyday-"

"No! You will lose water as well as electrolytes and pass out. I don't want you to set foot in the gym until you have gained some weight back."

"I can't eat," I said.

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"Okay, you don't have to talk to me. But you gotta start talking to someone."

"Alternatives to talking?"

"Take it slow, make daily progress, but right now, you're not going anywhere anytime soon."