Adrift: Part I

"So, am I deemed hale and hearty enough to be discharged?" Obi-Wan asked as he tugged his undertunic back into place. The metal examination table radiated cold, and the medical droid whirred most annoyingly as it analysed the litres of blood it had just drawn from Obi-Wan. Why the blasted white rooms in medical wards always had to be so uncomfortable, he could only speculate – and the answers he ended up with certainly weren't complimentary for the medical profession and their cohorts.

"Well, Master Kenobi." Healer S'ghan's dark brown eyes were focused intently on Obi-Wan's face as he continued to examine his patient through the Force. "Do you feel yourself recovered enough to go back to active service?"

Obi-Wan, who knew that recovered enough was a very different thing from hale and hearty, smiled ruefully. "Absolutely."

The young Mirialan frowned, no doubt sensing the direction of Obi-Wan's thoughts. Before he could say anything though, the small med droid rotated its humanoid-like head towards them. "The patient's blood count and other figures are within the parameters of a human male of his age and physique. The blood pressure is slightly above the norm, but there is no indication General Kenobi would be unfit to perform his duties in a battle. I recommend immediate discharge and a prescription of zetrapine for the high blood pressure –"

"Thank you AZI-2. You can go now," Knight S´ghan remarked pointedly.

"Yes, Healer S'ghan." The droid blinked its huge owl-like eyes once, and then floated with the aid of its repulsorlifts out of the examination room, leaving the two Jedi alone.

"Lovely fellow," Obi-Wan muttered. If one asked him, medical droids were the worst breed of service droids, their surroundings accentuating mercilessly their lack of sentient emotion. Their care was the cold care of a machine.

Knight S'ghan smiled faintly. "AZI-2 can be rather blunt, but he is zealous in his profession. He is right – physically you are sufficiently healthy."

"But..?" Obi-Wan asked dryly, knowing a coming but a mile away.

"Some things cannot be measured by machines. You may be fit physically, but in the Force…" The young healer's expression was compassionate; he had been a surprisingly soothing presence during their healing sessions, patiently and gently mending with the Force what the time travel had torn apart, all the while carefully respecting Obi-Wan's privacy.

"I though the effects of the holocron were healed?" Obi-Wan tried not to show his disappointment; despite his young age, Knight S'ghan had done his very best and had managed to patch up a hurt Obi-Wan had been sceptical anyone could heal.

"Most of it is," the Mirialan was quick to reassure. "And I suspect the Force will continue to spontaneously heal the rest, even without the aid of a professional healer. Really, I just prompted and guided that process, helped the Force within you to start healing the frayed and torn cells."

"Then I'm afraid I do not quite understand your hesitation to declare me fit for duty." Obi-Wan felt fine; the nausea, the stomach gramps, the weakness and all the other irritating symptoms had vanished. He couldn't rest on his laurels anymore, he needed to get back in the field. The reports from different sector armies showed that the war wasn't progressing any better than before, and Obi-Wan was realist enough to know that the 212th would not get but a few days furlough on Coruscant before being sent back to the frontlines. When that happened, he intended to be with them.

Knight S'ghan dropped his eyes to the examination table, his complexion turning from light greenish to deeper green. "Master Kenobi, forgive me if I'm intruding in matters that are personal, but it has been impossible not to see…I have felt how…" The flustered healer fell silent and cleared his throat.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. Perhaps the Jedi Knight was even younger than he had first thought, for he obviously lacked the requisite bluntness the older healers possessed in abundance and which seemed to grow in relation to years spent pestering one's patients.

But soon Knight S'ghan found his courage; he met Obi-Wan's eyes resolutely, and even though he was still blushing, the healer said with only little visible trepidation, "I can sense that you are not wholly balanced in the Force…there is a…crack, a disturbance, something which continues to bother you and hampers your ability to find peace within the Force. I find that problematic, for a Jedi's connection to the Force is equally – if not more – important as his physical health."

Obi-Wan smiled sharply. "You are right, you are intruding into personal matters, matters that certainly have no bearing on my fitness to serve in this war."

"You misunderstand me General," the healer remarked quietly. "I'm not deluded enough to imagine that I have any say in this. The Republic needs their best back; whether I agree or disagree that my patient is actually ready for it makes no difference. I can only convey my misgivings and hope to convince you to unburden that which disturbs you."

A deep, awkward silence filled the room. Obi-Wan breathed steadily, swallowing the acid denials and admonishments that came to his mind. Knight S'ghan did not deserve those particular sharp words, not even had he been wrong. But he wasn't wrong: Obi-Wan was disturbed, compromised, haunted. There was a void that only one person could help him mend – and it was not the Mirialan healer, however sincere he was.

"I only wish to help," the young man said, subdued. "I assure you, everything you would tell me, I would treat in the strictest confidence."

"Thank you. I do appreciate everything you have done for me." Obi-Wan made sure to let his gratitude show on his face. For he truly was grateful, even if he could never take the healer's offer. It felt good to know that someone cared, that someone noticed – even if he contradictorily didn't want anyone to notice – that he wasn't fine, that Anakin's confession had made his world tilt on its axis.

"But?" The healer asked, smiling lopsidedly.

"But I have to decline your offer. I am – I will be fine."

Knight S'ghan sighed, but seemed in no way surprised by Obi-Wan's answer. "As you wish, Master Kenobi." He took the datapad from the table and tapped a few keys. "You are officially discharged."

Obi-Wan inclined his head and left the examination room, determined to find out how quickly he could return to the Jedi Temple. Although on the first few days onboard the Refuge he had been effectively detained in the medical ward, he had familiarized himself with the MedStar-class frigate the moment the overzealous AZI-2 stopped making a scene every time Obi-Wan left his 'assigned bed'. Therefore, he had a fairly good idea where to find the captain: as was custom at that time of the ship's cycle, she was in a small officers' mess, sitting beside the viewport with a datapad and a cup of caf.

Smiling, Republic Navy Captain Elan Esker motioned Obi-Wan to join her. "General, I hear you have been discharged."

Sitting down on the bench opposite the middle-aged human, Obi-Wan noted wryly, "I see that good news travel fast." He had come to like the Refuge's captain; what Obi-Wan had seen of her and her crew, she seemed to be a competent, no-nonsense leader.

"Usually it's bad news, so this is a welcome exception," Captain Esker snorted. "You'll want to get off my ship then?"

"Well, yes – I have nothing against your ship but…"

"You want to get back to your troops." The captain nodded, and swiped from her eyes the strands of dirty-blond hair that had escaped from her bun. "I know this is not the most excitable ship to be stationed in a war, ferrying medical supplies and patients around, but…"

"Your service is the most important there is, taking care of our troops."

"Yes, I agree. I just wish that the Admiralty would see it that way too." She took a big gulp from her mug and grimaced. "Ugh, this is horrible. Don't know why I even drink this, the seamen on the galley can't make a decent cup of caf to save their lives."

Obi-Wan looked out of the viewport, the rippling, blue-shaded corridor enveloping the ship as the light years sped past. It had been a lucky break indeed, that the medical frigate had been so close to the Vigilance's position; the Refuge had been coming back from the medical station near Ord Cestus, where it had dropped off all of its patients and loaded itself full of new medical supplies. Now it was traveling its patrol area of the Meerian and Kwymar sectors, its mission to ferry supplies back to the many bases and RMSU's scattered around that region, taking in the critically wounded patients from the more modestly equipped field hospitals.

Captain Esker followed Obi-Wan's gaze to the view of the hyperspace. "I'm sorry General, as we only have the one escort ship, I cannot relinquish it to you. I'm sure you understand."

"I do, completely. I'm sure I can hitch a ride at our next stop." One Pelta-class frigate as an escort was wholly insufficient, but the Navy was losing ships more rapidly than the shipyards could produce new ones. Besides, the Admiralty banked on that the medical frigates would be left alone due to their status as hospital ships – something that in the past had already proven to be wishful thinking on several occasions.

"Well, we are due to arrive in the Praadost system in a couple of days, if we don't get an urgent call to somewhere else. The 26th Regiment is mired in skirmishes there."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you. I'll leave you to enjoy your caf in peace."

He left the officers' mess, tallying the days in his mind and not liking the estimate. A couple of days at least on the ship, plus the time it would take him to arrange transportation, and then the journey itself, which could last…All in all, it would probably take one and a half weeks, if not more. It felt too long.

If the Vigilance's journey had gone according to plan, the Star Destroyer would arrive in Coruscant in a matter of hours, and it was not only his 212th that Obi-Wan was resolute to join. For Obi-Wan knew – despite the great gulf all the hurt and guilt and discord had managed to open up between him and his former apprentice – he somehow knew in his very bones, that he had to be where Anakin was. However irrational the feeling seemed, Obi-Wan had experienced it enough in his life to trust its veracity, its urgency. He did not know why or how – but he did know with absolute certainty that Anakin needed him.

-o-

Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the Vigilance had actually arrived in Coruscant few hours earlier than predicted, and while the Jedi Master was tallying the days, Anakin was standing in the middle of the High Council Chamber. Of the twelve members of the Jedi Council, only four were present physically and another four as holograms, but that did little to ease Anakin's nervousness. The Masters' penetrating gazes seemed to see right through him, uncovering all his secrets. Anakin steeled his mind and fortified his shields. He could not decide if he was glad or disappointed that Obi-Wan was not present even as a hologram.

"Safe the holocron is?" Master Yoda went straight to the point, not bothering with idle pleasantries. No one had the time for those anymore in the middle of a war.

"Yes, Master." Anakin took the cube from the inside pocket of his robe and held it in the palm of his hand. All the eyes in the room were drawn to the holocron; sitting in their customary seats, a few of the Masters leaned imperceptibly towards it.

"Secured in the Holocron Vault it must be – Master Allie will take it there."

Anakin stared at the time traveling device in his hand, suddenly reluctant to entrust it to another. What if someone would seek to steel it? After all, not even the Holocron Vault was impenetrable – the bounty hunter Cad Bane had proven that.

"Skywalker?" Mace Windu's deep voice was more of a command than a query. His severe expression didn't lose any of its impact even though it was conveyed through the flickering bluish image of a hologram.

"Of course," Anakin said, tightly masking his reluctance as he handed the holocron to the Tholothian Master. He watched as Stass Allie took carefully hold of the cube. "The holocron is missing a piece – that's the reason it flung us about through time so unpredictably. The missing piece must be a means to control that thing."

"You know where this piece could be?" Master Rancisis asked, his long white beard quivering with each word. Seeing the small statured Jedi Master, Anakin remembered how the beard and hair covering most of the Master's face had fascinated him as a small boy. Because of that, Anakin had always – perhaps somewhat illogically – liked Master Rancisis.

"No, but I bet the secret operative who led us to the holocron knows something about it. Do you know their identity?" Obi-Wan had said that the operative's message had come through a trustworthy senator, but there had been no time for Anakin to inquire about it further. First there had been the whole sudden time-travel-thing and then after…well, after they had not really been talking to each other.

A brief silence. Then Master Windu answered, "Bail Organa relayed the message to us. He got it from a trusted source of his, who in turn got it from their source. Organa's source refused to reveal the identity of the secret operative."

"And who is Organa's source?"

"Unwilling to tell us his source's name Organa is," Master Yoda said placidly.

"That's just great!" Anakin exclaimed, frustrated. Of course, karking Bail Organa had to be involved. He would need Padmé or Obi-Wan to persuade Organa to spill the identity of his source, who in turn would have to be coaxed into revealing their source. "He has to tell us. This could be the deciding factor in winning the war." At least there still was the freighter – Anakin was so close to hacking its flight computer.

"Trust of our allies cannot we lose." Master Yoda sounded suddenly weary and old, as if all of his eight hundred plus years were weighing heavily on his drooping shoulders. "Too few there are those we can trust – Senator Organa one is. Force him to tell us we cannot."

"Yes Master," Anakin acquiesced, but in his mind, he was already thinking how quickly Padmé could meet with Organa. Perhaps even that very night, after he and Padmé had first had their own private reunion. Anakin's restlessness grew with thoughts of his wife; the very moment the meeting was over, he would hop on a speeder and fly to Padmé.

"And it has not yet been decided, what – if anything – is to be done with the holocron," Mace Windu pointed out.

"Interfering with the natural order – with the flow of time – is surely too dangerous, not to mention highly dubious," Saesee Tiin objected, clearly aghast.

"One day, it might be our only chance to bring peace to the galaxy," Anakin argued, despite knowing he held little sway over the Council's decisions. "At least we should learn everything there is to know about the holocron; how it works, who found it and left it for us to find and why. Ignorance is the weakest defence."

"Right, Skywalker is," Master Yoda said, surprising Anakin. "Knowledge we must seek. The Council will decide how to proceed." The last sentence was a clear dismissal.

"Yes, Master." Anakin inclined his head. Before he left though, he had to know… "Any news of Obi-Wan?"

"Difficult it is, to establish communications with the medical frigate in that part of space…hmm…but last time in contact we were, Knight S´ghan told that well Obi-Wan´s recovery progressing is."

"Thank you, Master." The news made him feel relieved; it lightened one worry. He turned to go, eager to get to Padmé, so he could just forget all the difficult, painful things in her sweet embrace, just for one night.

"Skywalker." Master Windu's voice halted Anakin. "The holocron must be kept a secret. For now, only the Council and a few other Jedi can know about it."

Anakin whirled around, meeting Windu's composed visage. "But surely the Chancellor must be informed?"

"The operative's message was meant for the Jedi; it is likely that the holocron also has ties to the Order. Therefore, it is an internal matter," Mace Windu explained.

"I disagree," Anakin said hotly. "Even if this were an internal matter – which I don't think it is – as long as the Jedi are acting as a military, we are obligated to report to the Chancellor."

"Necessary this is," Master Yoda remarked quietly. "Too many times has sensitive information been exposed."

"You are not suggesting –" Anakin could hardly believe his ears. Was the Council truly implying that Chancellor Palpatine was leaking Republic's secrets?

"We suggest nothing," Windu interjected harshly. "Only that we exercise prudence in this matter. The Chancellor himself might be above reproach, but the members of his office and those closest to him might not be."

Only slightly mollified, Anakin nodded sharply and strode out of the Council Chamber. He hated keeping Chancellor Palpatine in the dark, for it felt too much like lying to an old friend. And no – the irony of that thought didn't escape Anakin.