Run for So Long

Something was terribly wrong.

A sense of urgency pressed against Raven as she struggled to gain control of herself again. Although she couldn't recall why, she knew that there was something important going on, a matter of life and death, and she was supposed to be acting in it. Other people's lives hinged upon it, this mysterious event, and it was imperative that she open her eyes and move, fight against whatever evil was here.

Raven finally managed to open her eyes and was surprised by the scene before her. Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. She was in a small room, lying on a bed with a blanket thrown over her. The bed was pressed up against a wall, and to her right side was a large curtain draping to the floor. A door was open to her left, farther along the wall. Something beeped quietly above her head. Raven tried to shift to see what it was, but a white-hot flash of pain torn through her midsection, countering her idea.

A young boy, perhaps about twelve, appeared from behind the curtain, jumping slightly when he noticed Raven watching him. "You're awake!" he exclaimed, and he flashed her a smile. He paused, marking something on a datapad he had in hand, and Raven's eyes widened as a thin braid that fell to his collarbone revealed itself from behind his back. He tucked the datapad into one of his un-dyed tunics and told her, "I'll find a Healer for you."

Memories slowly drifted back to her of what had happened, the fight with Nat, being knocked to the ground, shooting her blaster. However, her memory failed from that point, collapsing into images and emotions, a brief glance of Qui-Gon hovered above her, but mostly pain.

Raven took a deep breath, releasing a sigh that made her aware of the throbbing ache in her chest. It still burned from her attempt to see what was above her head. Still, Raven closed her eyes and inhaled deeply again, pushing away the pain to savor the scent of the room around her.

So she was in the Temple, then. It was timeless, the place even smelled as she remembered. It seemed that nothing had really changed except the people wandering the halls. Or, Raven mentally corrected herself, at least the infirmary was still the same. The last time she was in here for something major, the memory flew to her without her request, was when she had had pneumonia as a five-year initiate. She'd spent ten days, so sick she could hardly move. The room looked the same as the one she had spent time in, with the exception of it appearing a bit smaller.

Raven settled herself more comfortably in the soft sheets of the medical bed and closed her eyes, reaching out into the Force. It seemed to hum more strongly to her here, with the assembly of Jedi, all using, learning and teaching about, manipulating the Force. The place was designed for the facilitation of these activities, a haven for the communion of Force users, Jedi. Raven had never forgotten the feeling of connectedness here, the idea that she was never truly alone. It had been so hard to leave this place, her home, the only one she had ever known.

An orderly came in, a young woman probably a little younger than Qui-Gon. Raven quickly withdrew from the Force, not particularly wanting to reveal her abilities or answer questions about them. Her blond hair was pulled back from her face. "My name is Padawan Tril Waiship. I'm going to examine you, as the tourneys are going on in the arena, and much of the Infirmary staff is there. I'm going to check your temperature, pulse and your blood pressure, as well as check your bandages and the bone knitters underneath. All right?"

Raven nodded. The younger woman pulled another curtain across a small area around the bed, blocking the view to the door. She took Raven's wrist between her fingers, counting silently to herself as she watched a chrono on her own wrist. Then, she produced a small arm cuff and took Raven's blood pressure. Then, she took her temperature. "Your pulse and blood pressure look good," the padawan informed her, "but your temperature is actually a little low. Hopefully that's just a sign you're on the road to recovery, but we'll have to monitor it."

"How long have I been here?" Raven asked.

Tril shrugged. "Let me check," she replied, retrieving the datapad hanging on the end of Raven's bed. "Says here you were brought in eighteen hours ago." The padawan frowned for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Odd, you're not a Jedi. Normally the Council has non-Jedi sent to a local hospital. You're rather lucky to be here. Must be the medication allergies, I guess." She scanned Raven's file for another moment longer.

"Guess so," Raven echoed thoughtfully. Tril threw back the covers to the bed in a businesslike manner, and Raven was startled to notice she had no tunic on. However, her chest was bound from beneath her collarbones to below her ribs, so Raven reflected that it probably would have just been another abrasive, or perhaps made her too warm.

Tril sat on the end of the bed and firmly pressed the soft bandages, her face a mask of concentration. Her fingers traced her ribs and the burns beneath the bandages, although sometimes a shiver of pain would ripple out from beneath the padawan's fingers. Raven was curious about this procedure, which she didn't understand at all. She personally would have learned nothing except how to inflict pain by doing this to someone, but then again, she had only spent her required one week a year volunteering in the Infirmary doing administrative work. Then, Tril checked the underside of the bandage, and Raven recognized this gesture from her help with minor things. She was seeing if blood was seeping through the bandage, or if the wound had closed.

Tril stood up from the bed and pulled the blanket back across then opened the curtain. As she washed her hands, she commented, "You look pretty good. The bone knitters are working wonderfully. We should be able to remove them tomorrow morning and get you into another bacta tank. But not until the knitters are out, because the bacta interferes with their processes. Is there anything I can get for you before I go?"

Raven nodded. "Actually, I wouldn't mind something to eat. Also, I was wondering if I could speak with the man who brought me here. I believe his name was Qui-Gon Jinn?"

The padawan smiled kindly and gave Raven a half-bow, a sign of servitude. "I'll see to both of those. Now, I'd recommend you get some sleep. That burn isn't going to go away on its own," she added with a wink. The she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Raven sighed and then mentally cursed at the pain it caused. Sleep wasn't a bad idea, and she could feel it stealing toward the edges of her consciousness even as she began to think about how the tourneys were today, and how she wished she could watch.

***

Raven awoke as another younger padawan was bringing in a tray of food. Tril was right behind him, giving quiet instructions on where to put the tray. The padawan would nod shyly to her directions, his blond hair sweeping into his eyes. She tossed a smile to Raven as he put the tray on the small table next to her bed.

"I hope you're not too upset, but it's nothing very substantial," Tril informed the rogue, "just some broth and bread. However, we don't want you to get sick. That would be rather painful for you." The younger padawan gave a half bow and disappeared out of the door.

There were controls on the side of the bed that adjusted the angle of it. Tril positioned Raven so that her hips were below the pivoting point and then sat the bed up. Raven found herself sitting comfortably up, her stomach still flat and unbent. She had to admit, she enjoyed this position much better than perpetually lying on the bed. Tril produced a rolling cart consisting of a flat surface that hung over some distance from the leg and set the tray on it, rolling it within her grasp. "Is there anything else I can get you? I did inquire after Knight Jinn for you, and he said he will be down soon. He had a meeting will the Council."

Raven nodded, enjoying the scent of her soup. "Thank you," she replied. "I can't think of anything else I might want."

"If you do, just activate the comm. next to your bed, and you'll get a hold of either me or another orderly." Tril repeated the bow of the younger padawan and took her own leave.

Carefully, Raven sopped a piece of the bread in the broth and nibbled it, taking pleasure in the richness of the bread and the herbal taste of the soup. She had forgotten how good the food was in the Temple, even though she could recall as a padawan complaining of it. Of course, her master had been a talented chef, periodically treating her padawan to a meal by her own hands.

The thought made her pause. Raven suddenly had a longing to see her master again, to hear her voice. When she had left, she hadn't told anyone, making the decision by herself and acting upon it. Now, she could see that her actions were a front for guilt and grief, but at the time, Raven could think of no other suitable course of action. Perhaps she had even been afraid of reprimand. What had Daré Shioc thought of her former padawan's abrupt departure? Was she even still alive?

Raven brooded for a while, mechanically eating her food without any pleasure in it. Master Shioc had probably drawn her own, correct, conclusions to the exit of her padawan. She had always been very good at that kind of thing, a very intuitive and sympathetic Jedi. Raven couldn't help but feel that she did owe her master some kind of explanation, now that the opportunity had presented itself.

Discovering that she had eaten all of her bread, Raven picked up the bowl and drank the rest of the broth, aware as a feeling of acceptance settled over her. So her past had finally caught up with her. Some part of the rogue had always known that it would, that it was only a matter of time. Raven had run for so long, it felt good to finally slow down and begin to look back.