Shift: Chapter Six

When I first started training Anakin, immediately following my return from Naboo, the High Council had tried to send me to see Healer T'Pal. I managed to talk Master Yoda out of it, proving that I was dealing with Qui-Gon's death just fine. This visit, therefore, was my first. Sure, I'd come to the Healer's Hall for a variety of broken bones, various scrapes, and burns as a padawan, but T'Pal was the Mind Healer and I'd never even met her before, although I'd heard others speak of her. She was tall, at least two and a half meters, had green and blue scales and a forked tongue that caused her Basic to come out with a prominent lisp. Even though she was of an amphibious species, everyone claimed she was highly intelligent, empathetic, and had a strong presence in the Living Force. Perhaps that was the reason her office was crowded with so many plants – far too many for such a small space, in my opinion.

I was admiring a particularly healthy fern with beautiful pink blossoms when I sensed her approaching.

"Master Kenobi. It is good to finally meet you at last. I have heard many good things about you from Master Yoda."

That was a surprise. Master Yoda wasn't prone to praise anyone. Pride leads to the dark side, I had heard him quote many times. As Jedi, we were meant to be humble servants of the Republic.

I offered a smile and a quick bow to the healer. "And I've heard much about you. I believe my friend Bant was under your tutelage for a while."

"Ah yes, young Bant. She will serve those on Ilum quite well. We are not here to discuss the qualifications of your friend, though, are we? We are here because your family is concerned about you."

Right to business. I took a deep, cleansing breath to release any newly acquired tension and nodded my head.

"Come. Let us relax. Do you prefer tea or caff?"

That depends on what's in it, I thought. Was she going to slip some sort of sedative in there? Something to help me give up all my deepest, darkest secrets? Something to make me more cooperative?

"Just water, please," I told her. You know, just in case.

In the midst of the jungle was a conference area with a single couch and chair. I assumed the couch was for me. I sat on it first and couldn't get comfortable until I laid down. That's what the thing was designed for I surmised. T'Pal sat next to me with a datapad I wasn't sure how she would use. Her fingers were three times the length of mine with long talons on the ends. She hastily tapped on the screen a few times without any problem though while I focused on the vines criss-crossing her ceiling tiles.

"Mrs. Kenobi tells me since your return from your last mission, you've been having some trouble adjusting. You are irritable, distracted, and participating in activities outside the home which are unsuitable for a father or Jedi Master. Is this true?"

Hell no! Well, actually… "Yes. Pretty much," I calmly admitted.

"Tell me how you feel, Obi-Wan. Right now. At this very moment. Share your feelings with me."

Aggravated? Annoyed? Certainly not grounded or serene as I should be. I really needed to meditate. This was probably my own fault. Instead of looking for answers in a bottle or a witch, I should've come straight home, gone out onto the patio, and sought some guidance from the Force. What had I been thinking?

"I feel…lost," I told her. "Like I'm out of sync with everything and everyone around me."

She began to purr, not quite like a tusk-cat. More like the hum of a dewback. As she did so, I felt a ripple through the Force that swept over me, much like what I'd felt when I'd spoken with Yoda.

"Tell me, why do you think that is?"

If I knew that, I wouldn't need her help, would I? "I guess because I don't belong here."

"I see. You don't feel like you belong. Within the Jedi or within your family?"

I didn't think she was going to understand. I might as well lay it all out for her.

"Literally. I. Don't. Belong. Here!"

I spent the next several minutes explaining all the sordid details of the past two days, how I came to be in this dimension, and the need for me to get out of it and back where I belonged. When I was finished, I had been able to obtain some relief. It felt good to finally be able to tell someone what had happened to me.

When I had stopped talking, T'Pal started tapping again. I had no doubt this was all going into my permanent record. Great.

If I was going to take an educated guess at what she was about to tell me, her prescription would be something along the lines of needing to meditate and spend some time in introspection in order to find my balance. Only then, would I find the answers I seek. They would be within the Force, she would say.

"My professional diagnosis is that you've experienced some type of psychic trauma that, according to your record, occurred during your last mission to Baku. It says in your mission report that you dispersed a band of draigons without assistance. Is that correct?"

This was ridiculous! I'd faced unsurmountable odds before, came out on top, and didn't suffer for it! After all, I was a badass!

"A simple yes or no will do, Master Kenobi."

"Yes, that's correct, but…"

"And that these draigons had attacked villages throughout the area consuming small children, which you witnessed yourself? Is that true?"

I swallowed hard. What was she getting at? True, it was a heart-wrenching mission, but I did all that I could and I had made my peace with the families. I mourned with them. When I left Baku, all was well. At least I'd thought so. But that wasn't my last mission!

"Wait. You're confusing me. That mission was four years ago and I wasn't alone! I had my padawan with me. He didn't exactly help out with the draigons because he was…well – it's a long story. Anakin Skywalker is his name. I started training him when he was nine years old. Find that in your datapad."

The look she gave me with her almond-shaped violet eyes was one of pity and it only frustrated me.

"Master Kenobi. You don't have a padawan. Master Yoda has been training Anakin Skywalker for many years. You just returned from Baku two days ago."

"No, I didn't," I argued, sitting up on the uncomfortable couch to face her. "Two days ago, I was going up to Senator Amidala's apartment to investigate an assassination attempt. And like I told you, when my apprentice pushed the button to her floor, I woke up and was here! In this place! This is not where I belong!"

"Two weeks, Master Kenobi. I'm recommending the Council give you two weeks' personal leave. I highly suggest you return to see me three nights a week for counseling and meditative therapies, with the recommended meditation on your own, of course."

I was not about to agree to any of this! Psychic trauma? Counseling? I knew what I needed. Meditation, yes, but so far, the only one who believed me or understood what was happening to me was that damn witch! I had to find her again!