***SEE DISCLAIMERS ON CHAPTER ONE***
~~ personal thought ** Force communication CAPS emphasis
(A/N "Ballea" means 'Sweet One' in Mon Calamarian, Bant's native language.)
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Chapter 5: A Helping Hand
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"Telliridae? What in the blazes is THAT? It sounds like the lunch special in a greasy spoon on Malastare." Obi Wan's face wrinkled up as if he had just swallowed a bug. It would have been comical if the subject had not been so serious.
To Anakin, it was comical anyway, and he hid a snicker behind his hand. Obi Wan smiled indulgently at the boy and winked. It was about all he could do, lying on his stomach with his head to the side. He felt like a fish that had been thrown ashore and could do nothing but wait for some kind soul to throw him back in. Or take him home and turn him into dinner.
The Knight looked as if he had been through quite an ordeal. His hair hung in greasy purplish black strands, his skin blotchy with stress and fatigue. Even his eyes, normally so bright, seemed dull and flat. At least the eyes in question were blueish green again.
Bant had gotten creeped out by the strange violet orbs. As soon as her friend was clear of the bacta and stabilized from the infection, the healer had taken it upon herself to call someone from the enhancement department. Shortly after her call, a woman appeared in the healing center to remove the chemical from Obi Wan's eyes that had turned them a brilliant purple.
The turquoise eyes and purple black hair still looked weird to Bant, but it was a vast improvement. It had seemed a perfect opportunity to take advantage of. She knew the procedure was uncomfortable, and Obi Wan was already sedated, so . . . Why not? Besides, once he woke up, she would talk to him and he would look at her with those eyes . . . And she needed some reminder of the old Obi, the Obi she knew and loved. It amazed her how much hair and eye color could change a human's appearance.
Bant glared at them both. "Telliridae is a manufactured organism, and it very probably would have killed you if not for your inability to totally hide pain from leaking out into your expressions, my friend." The dusky healer said gravely.
"Ow! Hey just because you're in a bad mood doesn't mean you can manhandle me. Or fish handle me . . . Or whatever." Obi muttered as Bant less than delicately peeled back the bandage covering his back.
"Yeah, yeah . . . " The healer replied, trying not to let the sadness leak into her voice. Anakin fared worse - He issued a startled gasp and his face drained of color. The boy moved closer to the head of the bed, fixing his eyes on Kenobi's face to avoid another glance at the wound.
Obi Wan's brows came together. "Oh . . . Come on, Ani, it can't be all THAT bad. Surely it looks no worse than it feels!" He held a hand out, and the boy grasped it firmly. Bant continued to remove the old dressing, shaking her head as more of the gash was exposed. "Oh, Obi Wan. I can only HOPE it doesn't feel as bad as it looks . . . " He winced as she poked the inflamed skin with a delicate finger. "Orick! Bring me some more salva, right away, please."
"Bant?" The question was inherent in his tone. The voice was low and tight.
"Obi Wan, the infection seems to have returned, although not quite as extensively as before. This is why I check the wound every hour even though you grouse at me for it. Telliridae is uncommon enough that the files are ambiguous as to resurgence. I imagine the agent was not quite killed off with the first salva treatment. Unfortunately that means the ones that did survive are the strongest, the hardest to eradicate." As she finished her statement, a tall Twilek male entered the room, several packets of blue gel in his hands.
"How much do you need, Bant? This is enough?" Orick held the packs out to his superior.
"Yes, Orick, that will do just fine. Please come help me with this, we have to remedy the situation right away." Her expression was serious enough that Anakin began to worry. He looked at Obi Wan with concern and his hand tightened against Kenobi's.
** Master? What's she talking about? ** The voice over the bond was shaky with uncertainty.
Obi Wan cleared his throat. "Uh, Bant? Would you mind telling me just what's got you in such a tizzy, my dear?"
The healer prodded his back a bit more, eliciting small gasps of pain from her patient. "I have to repack this with salva. Which means I have to reopen the wound. Again. This time I am just going to leave it packed with salva instead of switching to bacta later. It will heal slower, but at least we will insure that the infection won't return." Her voice filled with disgust. "I didn't leave it on long enough the first time. I'm sorry, Obi, this is my fault."
"Psh. Don't be ridiculous." His voice was a bit unsteady. Anakin's hand grasped his even tighter. ** Anakin. You're cutting off my circulation. **
The hand in his relaxed. "Sorry." Anakin replied out loud. ** Oops. I mean: Sorry. **
Obi Wan smiled slightly as he glanced at Bant and her assistant. ** It's ok. No one noticed. They're too absorbed in the mess of my back. Just watch it in the future, or people with think you've taken to talking to yourself. ** The grin expanded, then dissolved into a pained grimace.
Bant finally stopped her endless prodding and came to face Obi Wan at the head of the bed. She sighed heavily. "Ok. I must do this now. I need to know, do you want to be tranquilized or would you prefer to just try to block the pain yourself?" She placed her hands on her hips.
Neither option seemed to please Kenobi. "Um. Well. What would you suggest, mistress healer?" Again a ghost of a smile touched his lips. Her friend frequently used humor to diffuse tense situations.
Bant's expression turned clinical as she rattled off her list of duties. "Well, I have to open the wound with a laser scalpel, root around in there a bit to get several tissue samples, vacuum out the fluid buildup, clean the wound thoroughly, infuse the infected tissue with salva via an infuser, pack the length of the wound with the gel, close it up again with heat sutures, then cover the wound with salva bandages." She nodded to herself, pleased at her concise yet informative monologue.
Obi Wan's face turned paler and greener with each phrase. By the time the bandages were mentioned, he looked as if he might throw up. ** Did I ever mention how much I hate healers? **
** Not to me, Master, but I have heard as much from other people. You're kind of notorious for your many varied injuries around here. They even mentioned you in my class on using the Force to manage pain, said you had even come up with a new technique for it cuz you got hurt so much. **
Ani couldn't help but grin. Obi Wan was very well known in the Temple, almost legendary, particularly after he managed to kill the first Sith the order had seen in more than a thousand years. Many Padawans held him as the standard they hoped to meet in their apprenticeships.
"Well?" Bant was becoming impatient, her foot tapping on the hard floor. "I need an answer, Obi Wan, this infection spreads very fast."
The patient sighed. "Fine, can we try it without, and if it gets too bad THEN you can tranq me? That anaesthetic made me feel like I'd been run over by a cargo lifter."
"Ok. That's fine." Bant snapped gloves on and readied a hypospray just in case. "I imagine if the pain gets that bad, you will pass out anyway."
Obi Wan rolled his eyes. "Oh, THAT'S comforting. I hate to say this, but your bedside manner really sucks, Bant."
That got a smile from his amphibious friend. Obi Wan rarely used slang. When she was able to solicit such a response from him, she counted it as kind of a perverse personal victory. "Maybe it does 'suck' as you so eloquently put it, but I am only being honest with you. Okay, Orick, let's get this started." She smeared a special topical over the wound to attempt a dulling of the pain of the laser scalpel. "Obi, if you're going to try to meditate, you need to start now."
"Yes, Ma'am." His eyes closed and began to slow his breathing. She felt muscles relax as he went into a semi-meditation. He found the discomfort and stress a bit too much to go as deeply as he would like, but it would have to do. ~~ There's always the hypospray, ~~ He mused.
Anakin still held his hand. The boy closed his eyes as well, and imitated Obi Wan's breathing pattern. He slumped forward to lean on the bed, his head no more than a foot from Kenobi's, their hands intertwined. Bant was a tad concerned with this, but did not have time to deal with it now. Orick brought her the scalpel, and she got ready to begin.
** Anakin? Ani . . . What are you doing? ** His mental voice was relaxed yet puzzled.
** I'm helping you, Master. I don't want you to feel this . . . **
** But . . . What are you . . . Doing . . . ? How.... ** His thought ended as he slipped into a deep trance state, a hair's breadth from true unconsciousness.
** Just relax, Master . . . Don't worry . . . ** Ani's voice was relaxed but strong. In truth, he had no idea how he was doing it. It just seemed right . . .
"Ok. Here we go." Bant said seriously. She REALLY hated to have to do this. She felt she had failed Obi Wan, having to redo what was already done once before. Her hand was steady as she drew the laser across Kenobi's back, re-splitting the bright red line of his wound.
Obi Wan didn't move a muscle. His breathing remained deep and even, expression relaxed, making him look so very young. Anakin, on the other hand, gasped in pain and his body went rigid. Tears sprang out from his closed eyes.
~~ Force! What the hells is going on NOW? ~~ Bant had no time for whatever it was. She had to get this infection cleaned out.
The process consumed the better part of an hour. Orick began to clean the pus out of the wound as Bant took samples from different tissue levels. That done, salva was infused into the tissue, the gash was packed with more of the gel encased in biodegradable pouches, and the wound was resealed using the sutures. Now closed, yet more salva was spread over the top of the skin, held down with long bandages and medical tape.
The entire time, Anakin gasped, tensed, whimpered, and bit his bottom lip till it bled. Sweat rolled off him in sheets. He wriggled in the chair, kicking his legs slightly. But never once did he let go of Obi Wan's hand.
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Several hours later, Obi Wan roused himself into consciousness. He remembered going into a meditation, and Ani holding his hand, telling him he didn't want him to feel the pain . . . Then, nothing.
He was STILL on the bed, on his stomach. His mouth still tasted like dirty feet. But at least no drool was in evidence this time.
He scanned the room and saw Anakin sleeping on a bed a few feet away from him. Buzzing the healer's station, Obi Wan flexed the muscles in his back and was rewarded with a sharp, stabbing pain.
Bant appeared by his bedside a few moments later. "You're awake." She smiled down at him and ran her hand down his cheek. "I was beginning to worry. It's been five hours."
"Bant, what happened?" Her expression was vague. "With Anakin, I mean?" His tone was worried and bewildered.
The healer pulled the chair as close to the bed as possible and set down. "I'm not sure." She shook her head in bafflement. "He was holding your hand, and then seemed to go into a trance similar to yours. I didn't think that was too odd, figured maybe he just didn't want to see you in pain, or send you some reassurrance. But then when I started cutting, he gasped and his whole body went rigid." Obi Wan's mouth dropped open slightly at this. "He did that through the whole procedure. When I had to get the deepest tissue sample, he actually cried out."
She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry Obi, I know this is going to sound cruel. I considered giving him the hypospray, but then I thought . . . Well . . . The boy seemed to be taking your pain into himself, and as weak as you are, clinically I thought it better for him to take it, THEN knock him out, rather than give the pain to you. I did give him the spray as soon as I was done with you, that's why the boy is in the other bed still conked out."
She raised her eyes to his. "In addition, I think he wanted to do it for you as a way of making up for...Hurting you . . . in the first place...That's why I didn't just tell Orick to administer the spray to you. That and the fact that the tranq would slow down your recovery even more." Shaking her head again, she added, "Although I can't imagine how he did that, how he COULD have done that! There is something weird going on here, and I'm not happy about it!" Her eyes, usually so soft and kind, turned hard.
Obi Wan held his hand out and she slid her slick warm one into his. "Bant. There is something. And I don't want others to know, but I will tell you. I know I can trust you." The healer nodded. Obi Wan was her best friend, more precious to her than even a brother could ever be. She would do almost anything for him. "Anakin and I have developed, well, some kind of mental bond."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock. A profound confusion settled on her face. "What?!"
Obi Wan nodded briefly then stopped as the movement brought a fresh wash of pain. "It only hurts when I move," he quipped. Then he got serious once more. "I can't explain it, Bant. I was floating in the bacta, and he was there . . . apologizing . . . in his mind. And I HEARD it. I heard everything he said. He was so miserable, so sorry, so . . . so much like a child. I felt I had to console him, so I sent back to him some words to calm him down." His brow creased. "I can only assume the Force wants us together for some reason. And something else Bant . . . " He hesitated.
"Yes?" She urged him to continue, fascinated.
"This bond, it's . . . Well, it's WEIRD, for lack of a better term. It's not like a training bond. It is much stronger than that. I know it isn't a lifebond, those only occur between mates. With Qui Gon, we could track each other through the bond. We could ascertain each others basic health, know if the other was wounded or in danger. We could convey feelings and emotions. But only very rarely were we able to SPEAK to each other in words. Only a handful of times, and even then it was only when we were under extreme stress or pain. Maybe my bond with Master Jinn was not typical . . . ?" He looked into her eyes, questioning.
"Well, all I can tell you is what I know. My bond with Master Fisto was such that we could speak in words, but we didn't very much. It was effort and took a lot of concentration. I know that Yoda and Mace have a very strong bond, and speak across it often." She smirked. "It can be very annoying, knowing they are speaking to one another while you sit there trying not to notice. But Master Yoda is 800-odd years old, and you know what he would say. 'If when 800 years old YOU reach, be able to communicate mentally with such ease YOU will not..." Her imitation of Yoda was remarkably good.
Obi Wan chuckled for a moment, then stopped with a gasp. "Bant, don't make me laugh! Hurts!" But he squeezed her hand affectionately.
"Well," Obi Wan continued after calming his painful chuckles, "Anakin and I can speak to each other as easily as I am speaking to you now. With no more effort than verbal communication. And it's evident he used the bond to take my pain and keep me in a deep trance, a trance that I was unable to achieve myself." His voice trailed off. The Knight was clearly disturbed. He looked at his friend worriedly. "Bant, I barely know this kid. I can't fathom the purpose behind this. But I can't deny that it's happened." He frowned. "I hate to admit it, but it is a bit . . . Frightening."
Bant brought her other hand up to stroke his cheek. "My poor Obi. You must really be concerned, I never hear you talk like this. But I understand. You're handling this far better than I would be. I would be 'in a tizzy' as you would say." She smiled fondly at him, and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
"I'm glad I talked to you about it. You have always been a good and dear friend to me, Ballea." His warm smile and sparkling eyes captivated her, as they seemed to captivate most people.
"And you to me, Ballea." Her tone was loving, his smile returned in kind. "But, Obi, I think you should tell Master Yoda about the bond."
His smile faded. "Perhaps you are right. I know Master Yoda would not tell others unless he felt it necessary. And it would help to have his input. He's been around so long. He's bound to have seen something like this before. But, please, don't put this in your report. I am not convinced the entire Council need know."
She nodded, then a snort escaped her. "Or Palpatine! I sure won't be reporting it to HIM!"
Obi Wan's face took on a look of profound confusion. "Palpatine? Chancellor Palpatine? What has he got to do with this?"
The healer showed surprise. "He came to visit you, asked for reports on your progress. I assumed you knew him, he kind of acted like you did. Seemed to be a concerned friend or at least acquaintance."
The confusion deepened. "No, I only met the Chancellor a handful of times, and even then only in connection with the Naboo mission. I've never even spoken to the man. Master Qui Gon always took the lead, of course. The Chancellor spoke to me once, at the parade on Naboo, said something along the lines of 'Thanks for your heroic efforts' or some such thing, but I just nodded and bowed at him and walked on." Now both friends were confused. Why would the Chancellor be that interested in Obi Wan's progress? Claiming he had helped the people of Naboo was a valid reason for a casual visit, but to ask for progress reports? Very strange.
"Well, Obi, I've no idea. Maybe you should ask him, he said he would be coming to visit you when you are up to it." She got up and smoothed out the blanket covering her friend.
"Well, I look forward to THAT." His eyes rolled to the sky. "I don't really want to sit and trade small talk with someone I don't even know while I'm laid out like a spacer on shore leave."
Bant laughed as she checked his vitals. "Well, you could always refuse his visit."
Obi Wan stared at her with a blank look. "Why, yes, Bant, what a great idea. With as badly as my last mission went, I hardly want to do something to deliberately irritate the Council. Which refusing to see the most important political figure in the universe when he comes to visit Poor Little Old Me in the healing center would undoubtably do." He raised his head slightly so Bant could fluff his pillow, then let it fall back with a -poof-.
"Ok, Kenobi, enough chit chat. I do have a couple other patients to see to, and although I am your friend, I am also your healer, and I demand you get some rest. Can you do that on your own or do you need help?" Hands on hips again, all business.
Obi Wan smiled. "I could probably manage it on my own eventually, but I'm fairly agitated due to all these strange happenings. Help would be appreciated."
She leaned over him and placed her hand on his forehead. Drawing the Force around her, the talented healer spoke softly into his ear. "Sleep, Ballea."
And he did.
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~~ personal thought ** Force communication CAPS emphasis
(A/N "Ballea" means 'Sweet One' in Mon Calamarian, Bant's native language.)
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Chapter 5: A Helping Hand
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"Telliridae? What in the blazes is THAT? It sounds like the lunch special in a greasy spoon on Malastare." Obi Wan's face wrinkled up as if he had just swallowed a bug. It would have been comical if the subject had not been so serious.
To Anakin, it was comical anyway, and he hid a snicker behind his hand. Obi Wan smiled indulgently at the boy and winked. It was about all he could do, lying on his stomach with his head to the side. He felt like a fish that had been thrown ashore and could do nothing but wait for some kind soul to throw him back in. Or take him home and turn him into dinner.
The Knight looked as if he had been through quite an ordeal. His hair hung in greasy purplish black strands, his skin blotchy with stress and fatigue. Even his eyes, normally so bright, seemed dull and flat. At least the eyes in question were blueish green again.
Bant had gotten creeped out by the strange violet orbs. As soon as her friend was clear of the bacta and stabilized from the infection, the healer had taken it upon herself to call someone from the enhancement department. Shortly after her call, a woman appeared in the healing center to remove the chemical from Obi Wan's eyes that had turned them a brilliant purple.
The turquoise eyes and purple black hair still looked weird to Bant, but it was a vast improvement. It had seemed a perfect opportunity to take advantage of. She knew the procedure was uncomfortable, and Obi Wan was already sedated, so . . . Why not? Besides, once he woke up, she would talk to him and he would look at her with those eyes . . . And she needed some reminder of the old Obi, the Obi she knew and loved. It amazed her how much hair and eye color could change a human's appearance.
Bant glared at them both. "Telliridae is a manufactured organism, and it very probably would have killed you if not for your inability to totally hide pain from leaking out into your expressions, my friend." The dusky healer said gravely.
"Ow! Hey just because you're in a bad mood doesn't mean you can manhandle me. Or fish handle me . . . Or whatever." Obi muttered as Bant less than delicately peeled back the bandage covering his back.
"Yeah, yeah . . . " The healer replied, trying not to let the sadness leak into her voice. Anakin fared worse - He issued a startled gasp and his face drained of color. The boy moved closer to the head of the bed, fixing his eyes on Kenobi's face to avoid another glance at the wound.
Obi Wan's brows came together. "Oh . . . Come on, Ani, it can't be all THAT bad. Surely it looks no worse than it feels!" He held a hand out, and the boy grasped it firmly. Bant continued to remove the old dressing, shaking her head as more of the gash was exposed. "Oh, Obi Wan. I can only HOPE it doesn't feel as bad as it looks . . . " He winced as she poked the inflamed skin with a delicate finger. "Orick! Bring me some more salva, right away, please."
"Bant?" The question was inherent in his tone. The voice was low and tight.
"Obi Wan, the infection seems to have returned, although not quite as extensively as before. This is why I check the wound every hour even though you grouse at me for it. Telliridae is uncommon enough that the files are ambiguous as to resurgence. I imagine the agent was not quite killed off with the first salva treatment. Unfortunately that means the ones that did survive are the strongest, the hardest to eradicate." As she finished her statement, a tall Twilek male entered the room, several packets of blue gel in his hands.
"How much do you need, Bant? This is enough?" Orick held the packs out to his superior.
"Yes, Orick, that will do just fine. Please come help me with this, we have to remedy the situation right away." Her expression was serious enough that Anakin began to worry. He looked at Obi Wan with concern and his hand tightened against Kenobi's.
** Master? What's she talking about? ** The voice over the bond was shaky with uncertainty.
Obi Wan cleared his throat. "Uh, Bant? Would you mind telling me just what's got you in such a tizzy, my dear?"
The healer prodded his back a bit more, eliciting small gasps of pain from her patient. "I have to repack this with salva. Which means I have to reopen the wound. Again. This time I am just going to leave it packed with salva instead of switching to bacta later. It will heal slower, but at least we will insure that the infection won't return." Her voice filled with disgust. "I didn't leave it on long enough the first time. I'm sorry, Obi, this is my fault."
"Psh. Don't be ridiculous." His voice was a bit unsteady. Anakin's hand grasped his even tighter. ** Anakin. You're cutting off my circulation. **
The hand in his relaxed. "Sorry." Anakin replied out loud. ** Oops. I mean: Sorry. **
Obi Wan smiled slightly as he glanced at Bant and her assistant. ** It's ok. No one noticed. They're too absorbed in the mess of my back. Just watch it in the future, or people with think you've taken to talking to yourself. ** The grin expanded, then dissolved into a pained grimace.
Bant finally stopped her endless prodding and came to face Obi Wan at the head of the bed. She sighed heavily. "Ok. I must do this now. I need to know, do you want to be tranquilized or would you prefer to just try to block the pain yourself?" She placed her hands on her hips.
Neither option seemed to please Kenobi. "Um. Well. What would you suggest, mistress healer?" Again a ghost of a smile touched his lips. Her friend frequently used humor to diffuse tense situations.
Bant's expression turned clinical as she rattled off her list of duties. "Well, I have to open the wound with a laser scalpel, root around in there a bit to get several tissue samples, vacuum out the fluid buildup, clean the wound thoroughly, infuse the infected tissue with salva via an infuser, pack the length of the wound with the gel, close it up again with heat sutures, then cover the wound with salva bandages." She nodded to herself, pleased at her concise yet informative monologue.
Obi Wan's face turned paler and greener with each phrase. By the time the bandages were mentioned, he looked as if he might throw up. ** Did I ever mention how much I hate healers? **
** Not to me, Master, but I have heard as much from other people. You're kind of notorious for your many varied injuries around here. They even mentioned you in my class on using the Force to manage pain, said you had even come up with a new technique for it cuz you got hurt so much. **
Ani couldn't help but grin. Obi Wan was very well known in the Temple, almost legendary, particularly after he managed to kill the first Sith the order had seen in more than a thousand years. Many Padawans held him as the standard they hoped to meet in their apprenticeships.
"Well?" Bant was becoming impatient, her foot tapping on the hard floor. "I need an answer, Obi Wan, this infection spreads very fast."
The patient sighed. "Fine, can we try it without, and if it gets too bad THEN you can tranq me? That anaesthetic made me feel like I'd been run over by a cargo lifter."
"Ok. That's fine." Bant snapped gloves on and readied a hypospray just in case. "I imagine if the pain gets that bad, you will pass out anyway."
Obi Wan rolled his eyes. "Oh, THAT'S comforting. I hate to say this, but your bedside manner really sucks, Bant."
That got a smile from his amphibious friend. Obi Wan rarely used slang. When she was able to solicit such a response from him, she counted it as kind of a perverse personal victory. "Maybe it does 'suck' as you so eloquently put it, but I am only being honest with you. Okay, Orick, let's get this started." She smeared a special topical over the wound to attempt a dulling of the pain of the laser scalpel. "Obi, if you're going to try to meditate, you need to start now."
"Yes, Ma'am." His eyes closed and began to slow his breathing. She felt muscles relax as he went into a semi-meditation. He found the discomfort and stress a bit too much to go as deeply as he would like, but it would have to do. ~~ There's always the hypospray, ~~ He mused.
Anakin still held his hand. The boy closed his eyes as well, and imitated Obi Wan's breathing pattern. He slumped forward to lean on the bed, his head no more than a foot from Kenobi's, their hands intertwined. Bant was a tad concerned with this, but did not have time to deal with it now. Orick brought her the scalpel, and she got ready to begin.
** Anakin? Ani . . . What are you doing? ** His mental voice was relaxed yet puzzled.
** I'm helping you, Master. I don't want you to feel this . . . **
** But . . . What are you . . . Doing . . . ? How.... ** His thought ended as he slipped into a deep trance state, a hair's breadth from true unconsciousness.
** Just relax, Master . . . Don't worry . . . ** Ani's voice was relaxed but strong. In truth, he had no idea how he was doing it. It just seemed right . . .
"Ok. Here we go." Bant said seriously. She REALLY hated to have to do this. She felt she had failed Obi Wan, having to redo what was already done once before. Her hand was steady as she drew the laser across Kenobi's back, re-splitting the bright red line of his wound.
Obi Wan didn't move a muscle. His breathing remained deep and even, expression relaxed, making him look so very young. Anakin, on the other hand, gasped in pain and his body went rigid. Tears sprang out from his closed eyes.
~~ Force! What the hells is going on NOW? ~~ Bant had no time for whatever it was. She had to get this infection cleaned out.
The process consumed the better part of an hour. Orick began to clean the pus out of the wound as Bant took samples from different tissue levels. That done, salva was infused into the tissue, the gash was packed with more of the gel encased in biodegradable pouches, and the wound was resealed using the sutures. Now closed, yet more salva was spread over the top of the skin, held down with long bandages and medical tape.
The entire time, Anakin gasped, tensed, whimpered, and bit his bottom lip till it bled. Sweat rolled off him in sheets. He wriggled in the chair, kicking his legs slightly. But never once did he let go of Obi Wan's hand.
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Several hours later, Obi Wan roused himself into consciousness. He remembered going into a meditation, and Ani holding his hand, telling him he didn't want him to feel the pain . . . Then, nothing.
He was STILL on the bed, on his stomach. His mouth still tasted like dirty feet. But at least no drool was in evidence this time.
He scanned the room and saw Anakin sleeping on a bed a few feet away from him. Buzzing the healer's station, Obi Wan flexed the muscles in his back and was rewarded with a sharp, stabbing pain.
Bant appeared by his bedside a few moments later. "You're awake." She smiled down at him and ran her hand down his cheek. "I was beginning to worry. It's been five hours."
"Bant, what happened?" Her expression was vague. "With Anakin, I mean?" His tone was worried and bewildered.
The healer pulled the chair as close to the bed as possible and set down. "I'm not sure." She shook her head in bafflement. "He was holding your hand, and then seemed to go into a trance similar to yours. I didn't think that was too odd, figured maybe he just didn't want to see you in pain, or send you some reassurrance. But then when I started cutting, he gasped and his whole body went rigid." Obi Wan's mouth dropped open slightly at this. "He did that through the whole procedure. When I had to get the deepest tissue sample, he actually cried out."
She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry Obi, I know this is going to sound cruel. I considered giving him the hypospray, but then I thought . . . Well . . . The boy seemed to be taking your pain into himself, and as weak as you are, clinically I thought it better for him to take it, THEN knock him out, rather than give the pain to you. I did give him the spray as soon as I was done with you, that's why the boy is in the other bed still conked out."
She raised her eyes to his. "In addition, I think he wanted to do it for you as a way of making up for...Hurting you . . . in the first place...That's why I didn't just tell Orick to administer the spray to you. That and the fact that the tranq would slow down your recovery even more." Shaking her head again, she added, "Although I can't imagine how he did that, how he COULD have done that! There is something weird going on here, and I'm not happy about it!" Her eyes, usually so soft and kind, turned hard.
Obi Wan held his hand out and she slid her slick warm one into his. "Bant. There is something. And I don't want others to know, but I will tell you. I know I can trust you." The healer nodded. Obi Wan was her best friend, more precious to her than even a brother could ever be. She would do almost anything for him. "Anakin and I have developed, well, some kind of mental bond."
Her mouth opened and closed in shock. A profound confusion settled on her face. "What?!"
Obi Wan nodded briefly then stopped as the movement brought a fresh wash of pain. "It only hurts when I move," he quipped. Then he got serious once more. "I can't explain it, Bant. I was floating in the bacta, and he was there . . . apologizing . . . in his mind. And I HEARD it. I heard everything he said. He was so miserable, so sorry, so . . . so much like a child. I felt I had to console him, so I sent back to him some words to calm him down." His brow creased. "I can only assume the Force wants us together for some reason. And something else Bant . . . " He hesitated.
"Yes?" She urged him to continue, fascinated.
"This bond, it's . . . Well, it's WEIRD, for lack of a better term. It's not like a training bond. It is much stronger than that. I know it isn't a lifebond, those only occur between mates. With Qui Gon, we could track each other through the bond. We could ascertain each others basic health, know if the other was wounded or in danger. We could convey feelings and emotions. But only very rarely were we able to SPEAK to each other in words. Only a handful of times, and even then it was only when we were under extreme stress or pain. Maybe my bond with Master Jinn was not typical . . . ?" He looked into her eyes, questioning.
"Well, all I can tell you is what I know. My bond with Master Fisto was such that we could speak in words, but we didn't very much. It was effort and took a lot of concentration. I know that Yoda and Mace have a very strong bond, and speak across it often." She smirked. "It can be very annoying, knowing they are speaking to one another while you sit there trying not to notice. But Master Yoda is 800-odd years old, and you know what he would say. 'If when 800 years old YOU reach, be able to communicate mentally with such ease YOU will not..." Her imitation of Yoda was remarkably good.
Obi Wan chuckled for a moment, then stopped with a gasp. "Bant, don't make me laugh! Hurts!" But he squeezed her hand affectionately.
"Well," Obi Wan continued after calming his painful chuckles, "Anakin and I can speak to each other as easily as I am speaking to you now. With no more effort than verbal communication. And it's evident he used the bond to take my pain and keep me in a deep trance, a trance that I was unable to achieve myself." His voice trailed off. The Knight was clearly disturbed. He looked at his friend worriedly. "Bant, I barely know this kid. I can't fathom the purpose behind this. But I can't deny that it's happened." He frowned. "I hate to admit it, but it is a bit . . . Frightening."
Bant brought her other hand up to stroke his cheek. "My poor Obi. You must really be concerned, I never hear you talk like this. But I understand. You're handling this far better than I would be. I would be 'in a tizzy' as you would say." She smiled fondly at him, and he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
"I'm glad I talked to you about it. You have always been a good and dear friend to me, Ballea." His warm smile and sparkling eyes captivated her, as they seemed to captivate most people.
"And you to me, Ballea." Her tone was loving, his smile returned in kind. "But, Obi, I think you should tell Master Yoda about the bond."
His smile faded. "Perhaps you are right. I know Master Yoda would not tell others unless he felt it necessary. And it would help to have his input. He's been around so long. He's bound to have seen something like this before. But, please, don't put this in your report. I am not convinced the entire Council need know."
She nodded, then a snort escaped her. "Or Palpatine! I sure won't be reporting it to HIM!"
Obi Wan's face took on a look of profound confusion. "Palpatine? Chancellor Palpatine? What has he got to do with this?"
The healer showed surprise. "He came to visit you, asked for reports on your progress. I assumed you knew him, he kind of acted like you did. Seemed to be a concerned friend or at least acquaintance."
The confusion deepened. "No, I only met the Chancellor a handful of times, and even then only in connection with the Naboo mission. I've never even spoken to the man. Master Qui Gon always took the lead, of course. The Chancellor spoke to me once, at the parade on Naboo, said something along the lines of 'Thanks for your heroic efforts' or some such thing, but I just nodded and bowed at him and walked on." Now both friends were confused. Why would the Chancellor be that interested in Obi Wan's progress? Claiming he had helped the people of Naboo was a valid reason for a casual visit, but to ask for progress reports? Very strange.
"Well, Obi, I've no idea. Maybe you should ask him, he said he would be coming to visit you when you are up to it." She got up and smoothed out the blanket covering her friend.
"Well, I look forward to THAT." His eyes rolled to the sky. "I don't really want to sit and trade small talk with someone I don't even know while I'm laid out like a spacer on shore leave."
Bant laughed as she checked his vitals. "Well, you could always refuse his visit."
Obi Wan stared at her with a blank look. "Why, yes, Bant, what a great idea. With as badly as my last mission went, I hardly want to do something to deliberately irritate the Council. Which refusing to see the most important political figure in the universe when he comes to visit Poor Little Old Me in the healing center would undoubtably do." He raised his head slightly so Bant could fluff his pillow, then let it fall back with a -poof-.
"Ok, Kenobi, enough chit chat. I do have a couple other patients to see to, and although I am your friend, I am also your healer, and I demand you get some rest. Can you do that on your own or do you need help?" Hands on hips again, all business.
Obi Wan smiled. "I could probably manage it on my own eventually, but I'm fairly agitated due to all these strange happenings. Help would be appreciated."
She leaned over him and placed her hand on his forehead. Drawing the Force around her, the talented healer spoke softly into his ear. "Sleep, Ballea."
And he did.
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