…"Padawan," Qui-Gon interrupted. "Sleep"…
The Jedi Master had placed Obi-Wan into a light slumber so that transport to the ship would be less painful for him.
Without the strength to fight the compulsion, Obi-Wan's exhausted body went immediately limp in Qui-Gon's arms.
The older Jedi hoisted his apprentice carefully onto his back before turning to a visibly worried Padawan Muln. "Lead the way, Garen. Hurry."
The two Jedi stepped nimbly over the body of former Rebel leader Bors Flint as Garen led the way through the east entrance of the bunker and out into the woods where Clee had the ship waiting for them.
Obi-Wan didn't make a sound as Qui-Gon ran with his limp and bleeding body, leaping over rocks, dodging around trees running up the ramp of the ship.
The moment that Clee heard footsteps on the ramp, she activated the cloaking device and prepared the ship for launch.
Garen stood poised and ready to help Master Jinn remove carry Obi-Wan into the scanty medical bay. They gently lowered the unconscious Padawan down onto a small cot.
"Wait," said Qui-Gon. "Let's lay him on his stomach for now."
The two Jedi eased Obi-Wan onto his stomach as the unconscious young man let out a low, painful groan. With a sharp intake of breath, Garen realized why Master Jinn had not wanted to lay Obi-Wan on his back.
Qui-Gon hovered a hand over the ruined, raw, and inflamed skin of Obi-Wans back. There was a series of bruises made by a blunt whip, long gashes made by a sword or knife, and swelling where bones had been cracked beneath the muscle. He clenched it into a fist.
Garen felt fury and sorrow swelling within the room. Just as it had reached frightening proportions, it was slowly released into the Force.
Looking down at his best friend's back, Garen wanted to weep. "Master Jinn," Clee's apprentice began, choking back a sob. "Is that… Are those… from a lightsaber?"
Qui-Gon looked up at Garen to see that the boy was fixated on two deep oozing burns on Obi-Wan's back and shoulders.
"Yes, Padawan, I believe so." Qui-Gon looked down upon the hideous burns. "Garen, I think it's best that you join your Master in the cockpit. I'm going to remove what's left of his leggings and consult the droid."
Garen was still standing aghast at Obi-Wan's side, fixated on the damage that had been done to his dear friend.
"Garen?" prompted Qui-Gon.
Garen was startled out of his worried daze. "Y-y-yes, of course, Master Jinn," he stuttered out before finally prying his eyes from Obi-Wan's cot. He glanced quickly to Master Jinn and then to the medical droid in the corner. He then all but ran out of the cockpit to where Clee would be waiting for him.
Qui-Gon watched the Padawan leave the room. As the door slid shut behind Garen with a swoosh, Qui-Gon couldn't help but understand Garen's reaction. Obi-Wan was, compassionate, gracious, and a good friend to all. Nobody who truly knew him would ever wish this upon him.
The sorrowful Jedi Master strode over to the corner where the ship's only medical droid stood dusty and hunched over. He activated it and it came to life with a series of shrill beeps and flashing lights, then began running diagnostics and warming up its joints and circuitry.
As the droid muttered his activation status updates, Qui-Gon strode back to Obi-Wan and began cutting the remains of his clothing away, leaving only the short compression undergarments so that the droid could effectively do its work. There was even more damage beneath the tattered leggings; bruises aplenty and obvious indications of fracture.
The droid approached the table and greeted Qui-Gon pleasantly in his monotone. "Greeting, sir. I am –
"Skip it" instructed Qui-Gon. "Assess my apprentice."
"Yes, sir," replied the droid, accustomed to interruption and urgency. "What precipitated the ailment or ailments?"
"Shuttle crash, firefight, interrogation, and torture. You tell me the rest," Qui-Gon rattled off, growing more impatient with the droid.
"At once, sir," said the droid as he bent over the cot and used his medical scanners and other instruments to probe and catalog the Padawan's injuries.
Just as the droid activated his medical scanner, Obi-Wan began to stir.
Obi-Wan moaned and grimaced as he tried to lift his head up to look around.
"Master?" he called out, disoriented and hurting.
"Shh, Padawan, relax. I'm right here," assured Qui-Gon.
"Whe're we?" the apprentice mumbled thickly, agony and confusion radiating from him in waves.
"You and I are on Master Clee's ship headed to the Temple," replied Qui-Gon, annunciated each word to help Obi-Wan make sense of them. Then he turned to the droid. "Give him something for the pain, will you?"
The droid was still scanning with one arm and place a hypospray to Obi-Wan's neck with another arm. The autoinjector syringe hissed as the contents of the spray were injected into Obi-Wan's bloodstream.
"Oh," said Obi-Wan through his grimace of pain. The bright lighting of the medical bay was too much for his concussed head. He squinted his eyes and laid his head back down onto the cot.
Qui-Gon raised a hand in the direction of the light switch on the far wall and used the Force to dim the lights that shone into Obi-Wan's eyes to a much lower setting. He turned back to the apprentice, put a large hand on the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and did his own medical scan. Qui-Gon winced at what he found but couldn't say he was at all surprised.
"You have some bones that need setting, Young One," said Qui-Gon as comfortingly as possible. "We cannot risk putting you into a healing trance until they are manipulated into their rightful place."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Ready when you are, my Master."
Qui-Gon paged Clee on her commlink. "Clee, we could use your help back here if you don't mind."
"On my way," replied Clee curtly.
Moments later, a soft knock came at the door, and Clee stepped into the room. She looked sadly from Obi-Wan's cot to Qui-Gon's somber eyes. The front of her robes was slightly wet where someone had been leaning on her with teary eyes.
"Better sooner than later, Old Friend," she said to Qui-Gon knowingly. She took her station at Qui-Gon's side as the two stood over Obi-Wan and out of the way of the medical droid.
"Just breathe, Padawan" soothed Clee to Qui-Gon's apprentice. "This will be over soon. You've been very brave."
Then she and Qui-Gon spoke together in low but urgent tones. "How many has he had?" asked Clee.
"Just the one so far," reported Qui-Gon.
"He'll need another," she decided. "Droid," she called to the medical droid who was now in the cabinet collecting surgical supplies. "Another hypo. Now, please."
Obi-Wan felt the bite of another hypospray on the side of his neck and the sound of the droid preparing the items it would use to staunch heavy bleeding and debride all unhealthy tissue. He also sensed soothing energies radiating from the two Jedi Masters in the room. He then felt all four strong hands of the two Masters grab one of his hands very firmly.
He gasped as they pressed a broken finger bone back into its rightful place. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and bit his lower lip.
They continued with his fingers and then moved around the table to the other hand. Obi-Wan was breathing heavily and trying with all his might not to groan aloud. The two Masters finished with the fingers and moved down to his leg.
"This fracture is from the crash, I think," said Qui-Gon to Clee.
Obi-Wan did not confirm or deny that statement for fear that if he opened his mouth, a cry of anguish would escape.
The Masters continued their work, grabbing the apprentice's swollen leg and sliding the bones back into their place.
The poor apprentice keened and hyperventilated, doing his best to remain still and calm.
"Almost finished, Young One," soothed Clee sympathetically.
The droid approached the table and draped large pieces of wet gauze over the young man's back and the backs of his legs. The ointment stung the open wounds.
"We will need to turn him, Master Jedi," said the droid in a monotone.
Qui-Gon nodded. "Deep breath, Obi-Wan," he encouraged as they gently rolled the Padawan onto his back.
Obi-Wan's eyes watered with the movement and pressure place on his back wounds.
The Jedi Masters then grabbed his shoulder and his right wrist. Careful not to put any pressure on the seeping hole made cruelly by the metal spike, Qui-Gon pulled steadily on the limb until the ball of Obi-Wan's right shoulder joint slid back into its socket with a faint click.
Clee gently massaged the muscles of Obi-Wan's inflamed shoulder and cupped one of his pale cheeks in her other hand.
Then, Qui-Gon placed both hands on either side of Obi-Wan's temples as Clee placed both of her hands on the Padawan's broken ribs.
Obi-Wan looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes for strength. He found it there in their deep blue depths before Qui-Gon nodded and closed them in concentration. Obi-Wan closed his own eyes as well as he felt the Force in tendrils being wrapped around his ribs that had been broken and damaged during his torment and escape.
He was almost enjoying the warm, calming, and binding sensation until Clee yanked hard and pulled the ribs back into place.
"Ughh!" Obi-Wan choked out a terrible shout of pain.
Qui-Gon watched his Padawan's chest rapidly rising and falling as the boy gritted his teeth and struggled to stay conscious.
"That's it, it's done. Droid!" Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon bark through his haze of blinding pain. "Sedate him."
Then, the hands on his forehead were transferring a different type of energy from his Master's senses to his own. Obi-Wan grew drowsy and warm and calm. He didn't feel the prick of the needle at his elbow or the soft cup of the breathing mask placed on his face. His world only grew hazier and darker until the room vanished, and he knew no more.
Qui-Gon exhaled a long sigh of relief as he opened his eyes. "Thank you, Clee," he said to the woman next to him.
"Of course, Old Friend," said Clee, tenderly. "I think that may have just been as traumatic for you as it was for Obi-Wan. What else can I do to help?"
"I think the droid and I can handle everything else until we get to Coruscant, but I will page you if we discover otherwise."
"Please do, Qui-Gon, if you need anything at all," Clee replied with sincerity as she made for the door.
Qui-Gon pulled up a chair as close to Obi-Wan's cot as could be without getting in the droid's way. He folded his hands and rested his chin upon them as he sank deep into meditation. He joined his Force presence with that of his Apprentice to ensure that his Padawan remained sufficiently sedated and comfortable for the rest of the medical attention that he still needed.
The droid worked busily to stabilize Obi-Wan's vitals and to disinfect and dress his awful wounds to the best of its capability, but Qui-Gon knew that the best it could do would not be enough. They would need bacta and the skills of the Master Healers at the Halls of Healing as soon as possible.
Three hours came and went and Qui-Gon felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Master Jinn," said Padawan Muln, softly. "We're home."
Qui-Gon emerged from his medications and looked up to see his own Padawan still sleeping on the cot and a team of Jedi Healers waiting with a stretcher in the doorway.
"We'll take it from here, Master Jinn," assured the Master Healer as her team carefully lifted the apprentice onto the stretcher.
Qui-Gon followed the team to the Halls of Healing with Garen and Clee in his wake. He noticed a team of Jedi escorted the prisoners Kerlina Batu and Rotano Shasti to a shuttle that would take them to the nearby Republic Prison. They would do time in the Republic Penitentiary, but perhaps they could be of some use with bringing Rindega back under control. They were the key to a peaceful and successful revolution on Rindega, or so the Force had suggested.
...