"General Kenobi!"

"I…I am…here, Commander," the Jedi whispered through parched lips, his voice too weak to be heard, but it did not matter as he knew he had been found. All around him, he could feel-hear—booted feet stirring up the churned soil, bit did not open his eyes.

A part of him, ever so small and vane, wondered what a mess he appeared to the troopers, broken and crumpled upon the ground where he had fallen.

The clatter of weapons drew his attention back to the moment, but he knew it was just a patrol, likely searching for survivors in the valley.

A small smile tugged at his lips. They had found one.

Ash dusted lashes fluttered opened to see the white armored soldiers close protectively around him. Their weapons were ready, prepared to defend in case of attack.

Within moments, a gray-skinned field medic was at his side doing a cursory examination of his injuries. The being did not speak, so focused was he on his duty. Though Obi-Wan doubted the man needed to look far beyond the dagger jutting out of his chest to properly assess his situation.

Even the mental laugh hurt as he squeezed his eyes closed, wishing the pain would dissipate. "The battle?" he asked, his voice little more than a murmur.

"Ranshin's forces are scattered and being taken down as we speak," the squad commander replied in a cool, factual tone.

Imagining that he had nodded his head in response, Obi-Wan exhaled slowly, but the biting pain in his chest made him regret the move. All around him, he could hear orders being barked but could not make out the words. Even the familiar Basic tongue was alien to him, mere mumbles and gibberish.

Drifting deeper into the gentle caress of the Force, he knew he could just stay there. It would be so easy. All he had to do was let go of his tenuous grip on flesh and let the pain just fade away. He was so tired.

A sound, as if the roll of a great ocean filled his mind, sweeping away the clatter and noise of the battlefield. The crispness of clean air, of ozone, vanquished the acrid stench of fires that ravaged the Bourei Valley. The Force called to him, beckoning him with gentle fingers that slid across a smudged cheek.

"The Force was truly with you today, Master Kenobi," a gentle voice, as soothing as the energies of the Force, teased his mind.

Smiling at the familiar, Deep Core luminosity, he once more opened his eyes. Ka'tau was at his side, opposite the medic. Worry creased her ethereal features as her long silver hair shifted in the breeze. The edges of the red war paint were softened, giving a pinkish glow against her naturally gray skin—the color of ash. She was like no other Jedi he had met; yet, she had a great wisdom about her. Like Master Yoda, except far more beautiful. "You."

"General?" the squad commander's mask filtered voice asked.

"Save your strength, you will need it," she said softly, her flowing cloak sleeve draped across his shoulder as she pressed her warm hand to his forehead.

He was so cold.

The tides washed into Obi-Wan's mind, crashing across the jagged rocks of pain, smoothing them, dulling the ache. He could feel her warming touch as a finger lightly stroked his brow.

Meeting her kind gaze, he tried to move, shift his hand—reach out to her—anything, but his body was so heavy. Blinking away tears, he whispered, "I am not afraid."

The ancient Jedi replied as she pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Rest and be well. I am with you."

•

A pale gray hand danced through the air like a skiff over the dunes of Tatooine, as Master Ka'tau sat on the edge of Obi-Wan's bed in the medical unit. They were deep behind the protective walls of Alpha Base on the edge of the Bourei Valley, surrounded by the victorious Republic Army.

"It flows through everything," she continued, her tone comfortable in the knowledge she had a captive audience, "flesh, blood, stone; living and inanimate, there is nothing that cannot be touched by its grace." Whimsy tinged her voice. "There are, of course, fools who think they can control the Force with binding collars. All it does is disrupt a Jedi's fine link to the Force, making them think that they have lost their connection. It is always there as it is a part of us, an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together." A beat. "It is just a matter of properly stilling your mind and seeking out that thread again. You would do well to remember that, if ever you found yourself in such a dire situation."

In the hours, perhaps days, that he had drifted somewhere between life and death, Obi-Wan had been lulled by Ka'tau's never ending store of information. From the songs in unfamiliar tongues that drifted through his sleeping mind like the gentle currents of the Force, to the tales of Jedi from long ago, or her need to recite and argue with the various facets of the Jedi Code.

He wondered if she had ever left his side.

The bright lighting overhead made Obi-Wan wince, it was so intense that it hurt his eyes. He was convinced that they had aimed a spotlight right at his face. At least though, he could do that. Lying on that battlefield with a dagger slipped between his ribs, those little things that he always took for granted and the possibility of never doing them again frightened him.

Just like wiggling the fingers of his left hand and the pull of healing flesh in his forearm. He was grateful for the pain, for it told him that he was still alive.

Between shallow breaths, he opened his mouth with every intention to speak, but at first there were no words, just a soft exhale.

"You are safe," Ka'tau answered in a manner that reminded him of a crèche master. She had known just what he was going to ask. Her white eyes focused on him, as long fingers adjusted the edge of his blanket. "I was beginning to get concerned."

He squinted, studying her smiling face. There was something—

"I should not have doubted your will to live." She reached to her lap, where cradled in the folds of her softly colored robes was a small cloth doll. Its simple stitched face, gray cloth hair, and draped clothing easily identified it as an effigy of her. She held it up to her face and asked, "Does this look like me? I do not see the resemblance." He laughed, soft and lyrical. "The real question is, do you know what this is?"

The simple answer was it was a child's toy, but Obi-Wan doubted it was really that simple. He slowly closed his eyes, offering the best of a nod he could, but it was little more than the slightest movement. All of his strength had been used in the fight to survive. He would live, but it would take time to recover.

"I am not surprised. Things like these rarely find their way to Coruscant. It is called an obake." She twisted the doll about, examining the stitch work. "Mothers make these to put in their children's rooms. It is to protect the younglings from mischief making spirits, often made to look like the dead in hopes that it would confuse their spirit into leaving the child alone." Her voice started to off, "A few levitation tricks…what are they trying to suggest?"

"That you are a mischievous spirit," Obi-Wan answered with a grunt, and then winced, regretting the laughter as an ache laced its way through his chest.

"Serves you right," she said as she pressed the doll to the pillow next to him, then her hand found his shoulder, offering healing energies through the Force.

A slow exhale helped Obi-Wan release the pain.

Cracking an eye open, he discovered Ka'tau was sitting there quietly frowning. Her eyes were closed and distress furrowed her brow. "I can feel the light grow a little dimmer every passing day. I can feel them dying one by one…I feel so helpless," she said absently. As if aware of his watch, brightened and acknowledged him. The grief that had possessed her moments earlier vanished in a lighter tone. "Master Euda'Elok once spoke on the power of one. His lessons have been lost for a very long time, since the Jedi came to believe their strength was as a whole—a central temple, teams, a Council of elders. They try to emphasize the group, which there is nothing wrong with that, it has served them well.

"But sometimes, it is the one that makes the difference. So I tell myself that if I help one I help the whole." She smiled. "It is the only way I can make sense of what is happening in the galaxy."

Understanding, he whispered, "Thank you."

"You needed all the help you could get with the voodoo medicine they practice around here. There is not even a bacta tank within twenty light years. I begged them to evacuate you to a proper medical facility with bacta and Jedi healers. Of course, they did not listen to me. These healers want to control the show here. Even if, like everything else, they are at the mercy of the war."

Pain dulled senses, followed the ethereal Ka'tau as she leaned forward once more and rested her hand on his shoulder. The healing touch of the Force filled him, easing the gnawing ache that had disturbed his sleep.

"You should be resting," she said. "It is not good to push yourself beyond your limits…you do that too much."

"I did not have a choice," he breathed, feeling the nudge of a sleep command. His team had been the only one capable of reaching the sonic cannon in time.

"There is always a choice. Sometimes failure and retreat are the best options. You just have to know that it is all right to accept it."