They're at it again. Obi-Wan Kenobi thought to himself. He had heard the
familiar battle cry of the Tusken Raiders. He could only hope that what
they were attacking was not a sentient being. He decided immediately to
find out. Outlanders were always finding themselves in the clutches of Sand
People. He followed the cries, throwing the hood on his cloak back.
As he came up over a hill, he saw that it was in fact a human female. He sighed, and pulled out his lightsaber. It had been a while since he had used it in a fight. He was sure he wasn't rusty, though, since he was always practicing. Igniting his lightsaber, he stalked the raiders. Luckily, there were only two of them. His blue blade made short work of the two creatures.
Kneeling beside the prostrate women, Obi-Wan checked for her pulse. She looked horribly bruised and broken. Her face was covered in blood from a wound that he hadn't yet located. Infinitely thankful when he found her pulse, he let out his breath in relief. It was weak, but it was there.
In looking her up and down to determine how injured she was, Obi-Wan was embarrassed to find that he found her rather attractive. Despite her bloodied face and legs that were now bent at odd angles, she was beautiful. Disgusted with himself, he pushed those thoughts out his mind quickly and used the Force to feel her presence. She was not Force-Sensitive, but she glimmered as some of the most Force-Blind people managed to. Her life force was there, but it was faltering. He had to get her some help quickly.
After his analysis of her, he decided that it was okay to move her. His house was not that far away, he was sure he would be able to manage. She did not seem to have any spinal injuries. He put an arm underneath her and tested her weight. Lifting her was easy, although she was a bit heavier than he would have expected. Since she was slight in build, he deduced that she must be muscular. He decided that the Sand People must have sneaked up on her. There was no other way that they could have overpowered her.
Beginning the journey back to his hut, Obi-Wan tried not to look at the unconscious woman in his arms. To him, she was just another example of the millions of suffering beings in the galaxy. For more than a year now, he had felt the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. Constantly overwhelmed with guilt, he had decided he no longer deserved to live among others and condemned himself to a life of solitude in this unforgiving desert.
His own Padawan, whom he had arrogantly decided that he was ready to train, was now the embodiment of evil. The sweet young child, Anakin Skywalker was no more. He was now Darth Vader, perhaps one of the most powerful Sith to ever live. To Obi-Wan, this was no one's fault but his. It was his arrogance; his refusal to seek help from the Jedi Council when he felt that he was losing the boy that had made him turn.
When he reached his hut, he kicked open the door and wished that he had more space for the woman. He only had one room, not counting the refresher. That meant one bed. Well, there was no question who would be using it. Crossing the room, he laid her down on his bed as gently as he could. He wondered how much bacta he had. It was probably not going to be enough. This would require some Force healing.
He sat pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and closed his eyes. He was confident in his powers as a healer. It had never been his specialty, but every Jedi had at least some training in it. He fell into a deep meditation almost immediately, and gently nudged the mind of the unconscious woman. He could instantly feel the jagged edges of her pain. Making sure his own mental shields were up in order to protect himself from the pain, he began to work on smoothing the edges.
As he came up over a hill, he saw that it was in fact a human female. He sighed, and pulled out his lightsaber. It had been a while since he had used it in a fight. He was sure he wasn't rusty, though, since he was always practicing. Igniting his lightsaber, he stalked the raiders. Luckily, there were only two of them. His blue blade made short work of the two creatures.
Kneeling beside the prostrate women, Obi-Wan checked for her pulse. She looked horribly bruised and broken. Her face was covered in blood from a wound that he hadn't yet located. Infinitely thankful when he found her pulse, he let out his breath in relief. It was weak, but it was there.
In looking her up and down to determine how injured she was, Obi-Wan was embarrassed to find that he found her rather attractive. Despite her bloodied face and legs that were now bent at odd angles, she was beautiful. Disgusted with himself, he pushed those thoughts out his mind quickly and used the Force to feel her presence. She was not Force-Sensitive, but she glimmered as some of the most Force-Blind people managed to. Her life force was there, but it was faltering. He had to get her some help quickly.
After his analysis of her, he decided that it was okay to move her. His house was not that far away, he was sure he would be able to manage. She did not seem to have any spinal injuries. He put an arm underneath her and tested her weight. Lifting her was easy, although she was a bit heavier than he would have expected. Since she was slight in build, he deduced that she must be muscular. He decided that the Sand People must have sneaked up on her. There was no other way that they could have overpowered her.
Beginning the journey back to his hut, Obi-Wan tried not to look at the unconscious woman in his arms. To him, she was just another example of the millions of suffering beings in the galaxy. For more than a year now, he had felt the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. Constantly overwhelmed with guilt, he had decided he no longer deserved to live among others and condemned himself to a life of solitude in this unforgiving desert.
His own Padawan, whom he had arrogantly decided that he was ready to train, was now the embodiment of evil. The sweet young child, Anakin Skywalker was no more. He was now Darth Vader, perhaps one of the most powerful Sith to ever live. To Obi-Wan, this was no one's fault but his. It was his arrogance; his refusal to seek help from the Jedi Council when he felt that he was losing the boy that had made him turn.
When he reached his hut, he kicked open the door and wished that he had more space for the woman. He only had one room, not counting the refresher. That meant one bed. Well, there was no question who would be using it. Crossing the room, he laid her down on his bed as gently as he could. He wondered how much bacta he had. It was probably not going to be enough. This would require some Force healing.
He sat pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and closed his eyes. He was confident in his powers as a healer. It had never been his specialty, but every Jedi had at least some training in it. He fell into a deep meditation almost immediately, and gently nudged the mind of the unconscious woman. He could instantly feel the jagged edges of her pain. Making sure his own mental shields were up in order to protect himself from the pain, he began to work on smoothing the edges.