Repercussions: Chapter 24


It took them several days before reaching Dbrakis, a combination of making a round about journey there to throw off any pursuit and the distance of the planet itself from Nar Shadda. Another week passed before they were able to locate a med clinic that was willing to take cash and not insist on identification. The news from the med-droid was not good.

Qui-Gon's leg, untended for so long then badly set had begun to heal incorrectly. The misaligned bone was now twisted, pulling his leg upward so it was several centimeters shorter than the other. Nerves, ligaments, tendons and tissue had all been damaged. Surgery, followed by months of physical therapy, was Qui-Gon's only hope of recovering anything near his previous mobility. Even then, the med-droid noted in its emotionless drone, there was at least a fifty percent probability that the damage was permanent and could only be improved, not completely reversed.

Kyran, Devin and Qui-Gon sat around the small table in the ship's lounge, with the print out of the med-droid's recommendations before them.

"We can cover the expense of the surgery, thanks to the cash Yoda gave us, but that's about it. Nothing will be left for the physical therapy or living expenses," Devin said.

Kyran frowned a little thinking. He sipped from a mug of tea from which the steam was slowly disappearing. He glanced over the reports and then at the envelop in Devin's hand. "Well," he said after a few minutes of silence. "We could work for a living I suppose. Surely somewhere there's bound someone who needs people to lift and do warehouse type work."

"There's also always openings for those able to do repairs on ship engines and other electronics. We won't be living in luxury, but we should be able to manage if we budget carefully. What do you think, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon looked up from studying his hands. For the past two weeks he had managed to keep to his resolution to not cause his friends further aggravation by struggling against their decisions. They had given up their lives as Jedi to free him Tuvlat, it was the least he could do. And he wanted this surgery, wanted the chance to once more be able to move without the clumsy gait he was now forced into. The pain of the surgery and recovery frightened him, the memory of his suffering in prison still fresh in his mind, but how he longed with every fiber of his being to no longer being so helpless because of the limits of his body.

He also knew the dangers of this surgery, not to himself, but to his friends. It meant that they would be tied to one place. Employment would mean that records would be kept on his friends, which would increase the chances that someone would recognize who they really were. And while he recovered from the surgery, he would become even more of a burden to his friends, who would be forced even further into the roles of caretakers. Qui-Gon wouldn't even be able to find work while he recovered, meaning that he couldn't even contribute to earning the cash to pay their living expenses.

"No. I don't think its a good idea." Qui-Gon said quietly.

Kyran blinked up in surprise. "Qui-Gon, this isn't the healers. They shouldn't be all THAT horrible." He tried to joke lamely.

"Its too risky. No surgery." Qui-Gon kept his eyes on the table, ashamed that he had to argue with his friends, but determined that they would not be put in any greater danger than they already were.

" It won't be that bad. It's more risky if you let it stay that way. We can help ease you into a healing trance if you're a bit nervous about the anesthetics." He looked at his friend anxiously. "It won't be like going to the Healers but I think the care you'd get from the med-droids would be more than adequate."

"Kyran's right, the med center isn't top of the line, but it does have decent facilities. We'll both be there to make sure that you get through it okay and help you damp down the pain afterwards." Devin said reassuringly.

Qui-Gon shook his head again. "Its too risky for us to be in a situation where we can't leave quickly. Unless you two have changed your mind about staying with me. " The last was said in mix of hopefulness and anxiety.

"Of course we haven't. You need care. Do you honestly expect us to leave you now when we know you need us the most?" Kyran responded after taking a sip of his tea.

A flash of anger went through Qui-Gon at that. He hated that he needed to be cared for and hated even more what that care was costing his dearest friends. He struggled for a moment not to allow that anger to escape, which would only make their burden heavier. In a tight voice he answered, "Yes, I think you should leave. And since I know you won't I refuse to do anything that will make a dangerous situation even more untenable. The surgery would means I would be confined to the med center for several days. For weeks, I would have almost no mobility. Then, only the most limited of mobility. Already my physical limitations allowed me to be captured and put you at risk. No surgery."

"Being alive is a risk, Qui-Gon," Devin said. "We chose to be here with you. We understand the risks we are taking. If the only thing that is holding you back is concern about us, then we are going ahead with the surgery."

"The only thing that is holding you here is a misplaced sense of loyalty! If you had the sense the Force gave little lizards, you would have left me for dead in Tuvlat. No surgery!" His voice raising until it was a scream, Qui-Gon threw the printouts across the room. He pounded on the table in frustration and anger.

Very quietly Kyran slowly got up from the table and went over to pick up the printouts that Qui-Gon had thrown across the room. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again unable to think of anything to say. He avoided his friend's eye as he carefully restacked the printouts on the table. This misplaced loyalty as Qui-Gon called it came too late. If he'd been more loyal in the first place his best friend who prided himself on maintaining a Jedi's control wouldn't be having outbursts of temper and anger. His stomach churned and Kyran knew he wouldn't be able to eat anything for dinner that night.

As quickly as the anger flared, it died out, leaving Qui-Gon with the bitter knowledge that he had once more lost control and lashed out at those who least deserved it. In a small voice, he said. "I'm sorry. If you think it is best that I go through with the surgery, then that's what I'll do."

Qui-Gon's agreeing to the surgery was almost as bad as his initial refusal. The knight who was once unafraid to challenge the Council itself now backed down passively. The fire within Qui-Gon had been dimmed to almost nothing. The outbursts of temper at least showed that Qui-Gon had not yet given up completely.

Devin reached out, taking the hands of both his friends. Giving them a gentle squeeze, he first looked intently into Qui-Gon's eyes. Sending a wave of calm, acceptance and love over their bond, he quietly spoke a single word. "Peace."

Turning to Kyran, he sent soothing energy hoping to calm his friend's ragged nerves. Another quietly spoken word. "Serenity"

He waited a moment while his friends did their best to center themselves, then continued. "We each want to make sure the other is safe, even knowing that such a thing is impossible, if we also want the other to have the freedom to live his life. Kyran, focus on the moment, learn from the past but do not let what you cannot change dominate you. Qui-Gon, the risk will not be as great as you fear. We will be tied to this place only a few days, the day of your surgery and a day for you to recover. While it would be best for us to remain here and you receive the physical therapy, if we need to, we can depart and work out a training program ourselves."

Qui-Gon held on tightly to the hand Devin had given him. He grabbed onto the peace Devin was offering like a drowning man does a life boat. He breathed in deeply. Very quietly he mumbled. "I suppose you're right. I'll do it."

In the end, however, the entire discussion was moot.

******

Qui-Gon sat on the bed in the med-facility awaiting the surgery that would begin the long process of reversing the damage done to his leg in Tuvlat. He shivered slightly, from the cold he tried to convince himself, since he was only wearing the thin wrap around robe that had been given to him to wear when he registered a few hours earlier. Registered under an assumed name with half of their remaining funds paid as a deposit. The choice of this med-facility had far more to do with the fact that no identification was needed than the quality of care available. This wasn't the Temple where he had access to the best Healers in the galaxy. Instead an older model med droid would assist a physician in straightening the twisted bone.

Qui-Gon sighed trying to hide his anxiousness from his friends. He was nervous about the pain and recovery but more worried about being a burden to his friends afterward than anything else. He tried to reach out to the Force to calm his anxiety but he was having difficulty concentrating.

Qui-Gon hated this. Soon he's be given the anesthesia that would knock him unconscious, leaving him helpless. They would cut into his body, rebreaking bone, slicing through muscle and tissue . . . Qui-Gon gripped the sheets under him tightly, knuckles white and shaking. His breathing began to quicken.

"Kyran. Devin. I . . . I can't." Qui-Gon looked desperately at his friends, the shame he felt at his own cowardice warring with the terror of surrendering control of his body to strangers.

Kyran came over to stand beside him. "Qui-Gon you can. You need this surgery to help mend your leg and you know things will be better after you wake up. You need to relax. Breathe in deep."

"I know they are not the Healers you usually keep busy, but they are capable, competent physicians, otherwise they wouldn't have a license from their government." chimed in Devin as he came to stand on Qui-Gon's other side.

Qui-Gon couldn't seem to get a deep breath, his lungs felt as if they were being squeezed by iron bands. Like he was crushed under the weight of the massive guards. They too had worked under the blessings of their government. Qui-Gon swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing up unsteadily. He reached for the IV the med droid had inserted just minutes before, intending to rip it out so that he could make his
escape.

Kyran felt his friend's panic and reached over putting his hands on top of Qui-Gon's to prevent him from ripping out the IV. "Qui-Gon relax. It will be over in just a few hours. You'll be back to normal sooner if you have this surgery. Remember what the med droid said, without this procedure you won't be able to have your full mobility back. It will be alright. Calm." Kyran said as he continued to hold onto his friend.
"Perhaps we should meditate, it will help to relax a bit."

Devin reached out to take the hand that Kyran offered, placing his other hand over Qui-Gon's. The physical circle that this created was echoed by the joining of their bonds of friendship. He could feel the sharp panic in Qui-Gon's mind lessen as both he and Kyran shared their own certainty that this surgery was for the best. Slowly, some of the tension left Qui-Gon's body.

Calmer, Qui-Gon allowed his friends to help him back onto the wheeled bed. His face burned with embarrassment. He whispered, "I apologize."

Kyran patted his shoulder gently. "It's alright. You have nothing to be sorry for. I can't imagine that IV being very comfortable. But it has to stay for a little while longer."

Qui-Gon nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He had fought in life threatening battles against overwhelming odds and not felt as much fear as he did now. The chirp of the med droid as it reappeared made him jump.

"Visitors must relocate to the waiting rooms. Patient will undergo the final preparations for surgery now." The droid informed them.

Kyran gave his shoulder a final squeeze. "It will be alright." //Trust the Force.// He sent through their link.

"We'll be waiting when you wake up." Devin promised. He headed out of the room with Kyran after glancing back one last time at his friend.

"Please lie back, Sir, while we administer the anesthesia." The med-droid said after Kyran and Devin left.

Very slowly Qui-Gon complied. The faint peace he'd felt during the meditation evaporated and was replaced once more by his anxiety. He reminded himself that after the surgery he would be able to recover the use of his broken leg and lessen the burden to his friends.

******

Devin paced anxiously in the waiting room. He hated that Qui-Gon was so nervous about this operation but he realized that it was in his friend's best interest to have it done. He felt a slight disturbance in the Force. Probably, he thought, created from not only Qui-Gon's earlier anxiousness but also from his own and Kyran's. Four long strides took him across the room, four more back to the point he started at. The pacing was pointless, but the nervous energy he felt drove him on.

He stopped pacing abruptly when Kyran stood up abruptly. "Something wrong?" Devin asked.

"I just have this bad feeling." Kyran replied. "Probably picking up emotions from Qui-Gon."

Devin nodded in agreement. "So am I. We've all been jumpy lately."

Without warning a canister of toxic gas was tossed into the room. The door to the waiting room slammed shut with a loud click of the bolt shooting home. Devin and Kyran glanced at each other for a split second before Kyran reached out to the Force and coaxed the seal closed again on the canister.

Kyran gritted his teeth. //There's about three of them waiting for us on this side of the door that I sense.//

Devin drew his saber and moved towards the sealed door.

//Wait! We can't start a fight in the middle of a med-facility. Too many civilians to get caught in the crossfire.//

//I'm open to suggestions.//

//We have a few minutes while they wait for the gas from the canister to do it's work. We can use that time to get to Qui-Gon and get him out before they find him.// Kyran sent back. //I remember the layout of this floor correctly, Qui-Gon is in this direction.// Kyran pointed to the wall opposite of
the locked door.

//I can sense several beings on the other side, but no hostile intentions. I'll guard your back while you provide the new exit.//

Kyran ignited his teal lightsaber, cutting through the thin wall, creating a large enough hole to walk through. They found themselves in the lounge room for the hospital staff. Physicians and aides who had just moments before been chatting and munching on snacks now scattered as the two men appeared.

"Excuse us, sorry," Devin said as he hurried through the room with his saber drawn. He reached out to the Force feeling Qui-Gon's force signature down at the end of the hall. //He's further down the hall.//

They raced down the corridors ignoring the astonished looks from others in the hall. Devin saw the operating room first and rushed in. The first thing he noticed was that the physician slumped on the floor unconscious and the med droid in pieces.

Kyran cursed as he saw the two bounty hunters next to Qui-Gon's bed. The bounty hunters weren't even aware that the Jedi where in the room. One was busy strapping the unconscious Qui-Gon down to the bed as the other ripped the IV from Qui-Gon's arm. Kyran reached out with the Force hard shoving one of them away from his friend's bed and knocking him unconscious. Devin knocked the other on the head hard with his lightsaber's hilt. The bounty hunter collapsed without a sound.

"He's alive, just stunned," Devin said, checking the physician for injury.

Kyran sighed deeply as he gently picked up Qui-Gon, placing him carefully in a repulsor chair. "Let's get Qui-Gon out of here. It looks like we've worn out our
welcome here too."