"I'm sorry, Captain, but I must insist," said the healer, a medic called Kravis, who had treated Kenobi on the barge, "you've lost a lot of blood and your work up shows a slight infection despite the speedy application of the bacta patch. So I want you to sit there, quietly, while we run through 2 packs of antibiotics and some much needed fluids via your IV. Only then will we talk about you walking out of here, young man."

Her hand was firmly placed on his chest, preventing him from rising from the bed. He had to admit he did feel surprisingly light headed from a wound he was already sending healing to and the infection explained that. However he had been through worse and was becoming frustrated with the medic.

"I'm needed elsewhere," he began, trying to squirm out of the medic's way, but she held firm.

"Sit and wait for the IVs to run through or I use this sedative and you'll be here until tomorrow morning. It's your choice." and she brandished a hypospray to emphasis her point. Kenobi always hated infirmaries, not least after losing his eye, and now his weakness was preventing him from doing his job and his frustration had been steadily rising until the hypo was produced. He sat back in the bed with a heavy sigh. He could cope with a few hours of rest conscious rather than an overnight stay and he could check on his people in the meantime.

He was sharing his room with the still dozing Nawe, who's arm was well on the mend.

"How are the others?" asked Kenobi as the medic busied herself with the IV.

"Lady Dorme's burns are healing nicely, we're keeping her in for observation overnight. Lady Sabe and Senator Amidala have been released along with Lt Danova and Corporal Nacto. The rest of your party was relatively unscathed and have returned with the senator. That just leaves you, Private Nawe over there and Lt Typho still here. He'll be submerged at least until tomorrow morning.

"May I see him?" asked Kenobi and the medic gave him a glare. "I'll take it slow, it's just that Private Nawe's snoring is rather annoying."

As if on cue, a louder snort from the young man drifted to them.

"Oh, very well," she said, "but take it easy, any dizziness, lie down."

"Of course," he replied and she helped him off the bed and slowly led him to Typho's room where the tank had been set up. The medic sat him down in the arm chair in the room, but once she had gone he stood and approached the floating form, dragging the IV with him. He placed a hand on the glass as he saw the healing man drift in the bacta.

"It should have been me on the platform, my friend. Old Uncle Panaka's going to have my head when he gets wind of this! Still, a few new scars might just improve your chances with the ladies! They do love a man of adventure!" He smiled at his injured friend for a moment but then his heavy heart sent the smile from his face and he suddenly felt very weary. He settled himself back in the arm chair, turning away from Typho's gently bobbing form.

Padme had been right, of course, she had just chosen the wrong person, he was the one who should not have returned. He should have realized that the attack was what his apprehension had been all about. His connection to the force had been fluctuating of late, sometimes a crystal clarity of connection that filled his soul and reminded him of his power and training and then at other times, like the recent trip here it had felt distant, almost isolating and he couldn't tell if this was to protect him or protect the flow of the force from him. He often wondered if this was a side effect of his force suppression techniques he employed whenever he returned to the capitol. It had taken him years of practice, but he could almost completely mask his force signature at this point and it had become almost second nature to shut himself down from the force flow around him. He could tap into that flow subtly without having to open himself up to it completely, but that did mean the connection could be tenuous at times and the signals he got from the flow could become confusing.

His decision to hide his true nature was backfiring and his friends were paying the price for it. He shook his head, he couldn't let his despair get the better of him. What would the consequences have been if he hadn't been there to warn them of the explosion? A flash of Dormes destroyed body came to his vision, with Padme weeping over her, comforting her in her dying moments, Lt Danova and Private Nawe already dead spread across the deck having taken the full impact of the blast. He shook his head clear as he sat back in the chair.

Typho's physician entered and adjusted a few settings on the tank before turning and jumping at the sight of Kenobi staring at Typho.

"I'm terribly sorry, Captain, you startled me!" she exclaimed recovering. "Quite a bunch of folks you have on your team." She had a worn smile and a bedside manner that reminded him of a certain Mon Calamarian and he smiled back.

"And how are you feeling?" she came over to check on him out of instinct rather than any real problem.

"I'm fine, thank you, I just wanted to see how he was doing for myself."

Her touch on his wound was gentle and her exam was cut short by his question as she looked at him gravely.

"Considering the damage to his left arm when he came in, we're very pleased with his progress. It will need some rehabilitation but he should get full movement back in about a month. He'll lose the eye" she said sadly, "we did all we could to save it, but the damage was too great."

Kenobi nodded, remembering his own pain and fear when he realized his right eye was destroyed after the sith's strike and then his resignation on hearing the prosthetic had fused the optic nerve after a charge bomb had gone off in front of him during the terrorist attack in Theed. The sudden silence in the room was becoming uncomfortable.

"Oh, well," chirped the former jedi," between the two of us we'll have one working pair, that's got to be worth something." He flashed a sly grin at the physician who returned his smile with a reproachful grin and then returned to her exam of him.

"Well, there's certainly not much wrong with you!" and she slapped him on the shoulder a couple of times. "Get some rest, he won't be out of the tank until tomorrow."

"If it's all right with you I'd like to stay here for a little while." He said all serious again. She looked over at him with a worried look, but he quickly continued to alleviate her concern. "Private Nawe –"

Realization swept over her face.

"Oh, I heard him down the hall, I understand! Alright, you can stay, but don't fall asleep in that chair, it will only aggravate your side."

"Fair enough," he replied to the receding doctor. Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He settled further into the chair and focused his force energy gently to his side. He had never been very good at healing himself or moving into healing trances on his own, but he could direct the force at least to speed things up and fight the infection and without the distraction of Nawe's snores it was much easier to reach the calm he needed to achieve his goal.

Medic Kravis replaced his IV with a fresh pack of fluids later that afternoon and he certainly felt rejuvenated but was still unable to convince her to allow him to leave. "I'll get the crystal work ready so you can leave as soon as that one has run through." She had assured him, so he continued his vigil over Typho.