A/N: I made it to the second chapter! And it looks like no matter what, this is going to be a bit of a long story, so buckle up guys!

Also, I should note that I've only seen the movies and read fanfics, and all the special spacy names are pulled from my memory and other fics. SO, I just realized I used "common" to describe regular "English" last time, and this time a pulled the word "Basic" from somewhere... and I can't find it again. Therefore, does anyone have a final answer on this? It would be very handy to know!

Chapter 2: Death's Second Self

Obi-Wan sighed and looked out the window at the dreary courtyard, letting his head rest on its surface. It seemed he had finally reached the end of what had felt like an endless series of rooms and people, the only constant the guard, as he began to think of the man who had first discovered him and Qui-Gon in the rubble. Most of the conversations were spoken quickly in Lenoian, and though Obi-Wan had studied the rudimentary levels of the language, there was no way he could follow the conversation. The best guess he could make was that there was some dispute over where exactly to put him, and presumably Qui-Gon as he heard the word Jedi with a Lenoian plural at the end. At one point he had even nodded off, the guard shaking him awake and speaking broken basic, "Up now. Yer goin to finaplass."

Obi-Wan had no idea if the last word was meant to be basic or Lenoian, but that didn't seem to matter as the guard had lifted him by the elbow and marched him down another corridor and over to an adjacent wing. The journey through they complex maze that comprised the governmental center of the city finally ended in a new addition, though Obi-Wan couldn't tell if it was a separate building, or connected to the web-like wings of the older structures. It seemed like every time the Lenoian government felt it needed more space they built another long addition creating a winding labyrinth of halls, courtyards, and footpaths.

The room in which they placed him was a simple rectangle with a fresher built into one corner, creating a smaller area by the window. The furniture was simple; there were two beds, as well as two chairs and a tiny table by the window. The beds themselves were on wheels. The walls were a bland, beige color, the standard basecoat in Lenoia, and the floors were of a hard, synthetic material, rather than the old wooden or tile floors in the other buildings Obi-Wan visited. Most interestingly the window was of one sheet, unlike the many-paned windows in the other suite they'd been occupied for the past month.

Ominously, the door had no handle. Was he in a hospital? a jail? both? Obi-Wan wished he'd paid more attention to the tour they'd been given when he and Qui-Gon first arrived all those months ago, then he might have some small idea what this building was originally used for.

The guard had left him alone sometime ago, and now the padawan had nothing but his thoughts for company. In his exhausted state, his mind seemed to be chasing its self in circles. Where had they taken his master? Why this building, this room? At least the second bed seemed to indicate there would be a reunion. More worrying, however, were the thoughts about what, exactly, had occurred. Was it an isolated rebellion, only in the capital city of Koshol? Or what it more wide spread? What type of rebellion was it? Did they mean to simply replace the current government, or to build a new order; did they even have a set order in mind, or was it more spontaneous? Obi-Wan could give no definite answer to any of these questions, nor receive any answers completely isolated as he was. Even the view out the window was of an inner courtyard; only a few figures wearing the rebel bandanas stood about, or walked across the compound talking heatedly. There was no one from the outside.

The young man didn't realize he was nodding off until his head slid down the glass and nearly struck the windowsill. Letting his mind chase its own tail was helping no one, least of all himself. As he was too tired to meditate, Obi-Wan decided there was no choice but to give into the urge to sleep. He took a moment to use the fresher, clean himself up a bit, the fine dust having worked its way into his robes and skin, and took a moment to thoroughly blow his nose. He climbed on top of the bed nearest the window, boots and all, not bothering with the starchy, white coverings and wrapped himself up in his cloak. A part of his mind continued its weary speculation, and he couldn't imagine falling asleep. However, very soon after he lay down that was exactly what happened

He woke feeling as if he couldn't breathe, his mouth was painfully dry, and it seemed as if all of the mucus had settled into the left side of his face. His head felt stuffy and achy, and the racket going on nearby wasn't helping. A harsh feminine voice was rapping out commands in Lenoian, and there was sounds of feet shuffling and sheets rustling; obviously there were quite a few people in the room. Obi-Wan sluggishly rolled over.

The first thing he noticed was the voice belonged to a rather tall woman of typical, slightly reddish coloring, but with brown hair of a lighter shade than average in the Koshol region. She spoke with authority and dressed in standard Lenoian medical garb. Obi-Wan assumed she must be a doctor. The others seemed to be medical staff, and what they were moving was what caught the young man's attention second. It was Qui-Gon, and at first the padawan felt a rush of relief so intense it blotted out everything else. He could see the well remembered profile, and for a while he just stared.

Slowly, he came back to his surroundings, noticing the bandage around his master's head, and the equipment that had been hauled along with him into the room. By now the doctor was shooing the rest of the occupants out, and he noticed his guard was waiting on the other side of the door before it closed. The Lenoian woman turned to address Obi-Wan, "You are this man's apprentice, correct?"

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and agreed.

"I am Doctor Shehlal. First, Master Jinn, as I was told his name was, has suffered a fracture in the tibia and fibula , multiple cracked ribs and several contusions. These have all been treated in the standard methods prescribed by the Medical Association of Lenoian Physicians. We have used lomath pins to secure the bones and all medications have been approved as non-toxic for his species by the Inter-Galactic Pharmacological Association. The prognosis for these injuries is standard. However, the head injury included lacerations and a depressed skull fracture."

The doctor spoke in perfectly accented basic, but Obi-Wan found her voice unsettling. It was almost too perfect; as if she were parroting back the responses from a learning tape with the same, contrived intonation. "Now," she continued, giving the padawan piercing look, "I would like to ask you a few questions concerning the patient, in order to better assess his condition and complete our differential diagnosis. Is that acceptable?"

"I will, as best I can," Obi-Wan croaked back.

Doctor Shehlal began her barrage as if his consent had never been in doubt. She began by asking many basic questions, about Qui-Gon Jin's medical history: if he had any known allergies, known medical conditions, and the like, all of which Obi-Wan answered. Then she came to a rather unexpected question, giving him an almost aggressive look, "Is it true jedi can perform what is called a 'healing trance?'" Obi-Wan assented, "and is Master Jinn capable of performing such a trance?" the padawan nodded. "What is the probability he has entered such a trance?"

"Not… very great," Obi-Wan puzzled over the question, "It's a very focused state, he was probably knocked unconscious before he could enter that state, and with being moved and operated on…"

Dr. Shehlal's eyes narrowed, "How certain are you?"

The young man felt the full force of her character bear down upon him, and was forced to reply, "Only… a little. If he were, I can't sense it, and we would only know when he wakes up."

Though she hardly moved, when the doctor looked to the side Obi-Wan felt as if she had backed off an entire step, "I am sorry to say, based on your statements, Master Jinn is mostly likely in a comatose state." She did not sound sorry, "We have treated the patient's head wound with some of the modern bacta methods utilized by the republic, but such advanced medical technology is in short supply, and it was deemed your species is capable of healing most of the wounds sustained by Master Jinn. Now, it is imperative to monitor the patient's state, to see if he begins to wake or deteriorates. My colleague will be along shortly to monitor the patient. Dr. Lemleshor is well versed in traumatic injury and the possible complications that can arise from the treatment given. Now, forgive me, but there are many in great need at this time. If you have any need, or there are any drastic changed in Master Jinn's state, you can page a nurse using this button," and as she spoke the pointed out the blue button.

Obi-Wan nodded numbly, it seemed like to much to take in at once. "One more thing," the strident voice said, "Have you had your cold assessed?"

After blinking in confusion a few moments, the padawan managed to reply. It was odd to have the topic suddenly switched. "Yes, the physician said it was merely the Ollof flu, and not a very bad strain at that."

The doctor gave him a final piercing look, nodded, and said "Good. I will see you tomorrow."

And with that, she spoke into a com-unit attached to her coat, the door swung open, and without further ado she left.

Obi-Wan dug the handkerchief out of his robe and blew his nose, the vague wish for disposable tissues in the back of his mind. But first concern was Qui-Gon. He rolled of the bed and stood by his master's prone form. The Master Jedi looked rather worse for wear with his head bandaged and hair tangled and poking out of the dressings. They had removed his robe, understandably, and tightly bandaged his chest. The broken leg was in a cast and elevated. On the side closest to the door the machinery monitoring his vitals was blinking away. Obi-Wan didn't recognize the symbols, but the could make an educated guess which reading, at least, was the heart beat.

It was difficult to see Qui-Gon in such a state, so weak and vulnerable. To Obi-Wan it seemed as if his master was a pillar of strength. Oh, he knew Qui-Gon was only human and all too prone to injury, but in the past he had always carried them through any danger despite set back and injury with a calm, imperturbable composure. This time it seemed as if the world had turned on its head. Without thinking, Obi-Wan reached out and took the older man's hand in his own. It was as he remembered, large and calloused from frequent saber use, but the grip was gone, the muscles slack. Even when Obi-Wan reached out with the force, his master's presence was diminished—not as if her were consciously shielded, but as if he was a great distance away, unreachable. Obi-Wan had the mental image of Qui-Gon at the bottom of a very deep, very dark well, like one of the mine shafts he'd seen on Kolloss as a child. They'd left a particular impression because there was no echo. That was how Obi-Wan felt now: no matter how much he called his master, his voice was merely swallowed by the darkness.

Obi-Wan hadn't even realized the room its self had gone dark until a light was flicked on and his eyes were blinking, adjusting to the sudden change in illumination.

The sun had set.

"Hello there. Oh! Sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you."

The voice belonged to a vaguely familiar man who had just entered and was pushing a cart with a tray of food on it. He continued to speak while he wheeled it around in front of Obi-Wan's bed, "The nurse was about to drop off your meal, and I just thought I'd wheel it in myself since I was coming to visit anyway. I'm Dr. Ansel Lemleshor, but you can just call me Dr. Lemmy," the doctor had reached out and gripped Obi-Wan by the wrist, which the young man did likewise in the Lenoian version of a handshake, "and you are?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Doctor," the padawan managed to reply after clearing his throat.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. You are Master Jinn's apprentice; I believe the jedi word is padawan?"

"Yes," it took a moment, but Ob-Wan finally recognized him as the stretcher bearer who had spoken to him before.

"You should get a start on your dinner while I look over your comrade."

Obi-Wan nodded and turned his attention to the tray. The food was similar to the other mushy, brownish dishes common Lenoia, but the young man doubted it was of the same quality they'd been served before. Even so, Obi-Wan discovered he was ravenous and dug in with gusto. All the while Dr. Lemleshor amicably rambled on, checking Qui-Gon's injuries and state of consciousness with efficiency.

"You know," the doctor said with a smile, "the nurses are in terror of you Jedi, and I might say some of the guards as well. Members of your order are considered rather exotic and are used frequently in popular media. Sometimes as a kind off-worlder, more usually as a powerful antagonist of sorts, but most often as a—how do you say… day-us ex machee-na. As in, a jedi will arrive near the end and settle the plot with his invisible powers. I have done my research, and know what you believe. Unfortunately most inhabitants have very little idea of what the Jedi are actually about."

Obi-Wan noticed that Dr. Lemleshor had a very good command of basic, but would sometimes pronounce difficult words oddly. After he'd taken the edge of his hunger, the young man carefully watched the Lenoian as he spoke. He was tall and rather well built. Obi-Wan couldn't quite decide if the completely black eyes were more or less unsettling in a cheerful face, rather than the sober countenances he'd seen more often donned by the Lenoians. The padawan coughed a little, but if the doctor noticed or knew he was being observed, he gave to indication and continued his idle talk.

"I read a great deal during the wars, and the Jedi Order was one of the more interesting subjects. I was rather shocked when the fighting was over how little screenwriters and authors bothered to learn about their subjects. Of course, they only really wrote to entertain the masses. The elite, the varyars, there's not a good term to describe them in basic, thought they could placate the people with trashy holovids. But, the need was too deep, the hunger too strong."

Just when it seemed Dr. Lemleshor was about to reveal something interesting, he finished his exam and turned his attention to Obi-Wan, a more serious expression on his face, "It seems Master Jinn is still in a deep comatose state. His other injuries are on their way towards healing. But all of that could easily change at this early stage. Please alert us if you observe any changes, such as fever or signs of awakening. Now," he smiled as he changed the subject, "you seem to have quite the cold, kid. Have you had it checked?"

Obi-Wan sniffled and wished his symptoms didn't have such good dramatic timing, "Yes, the court physician said it was Ollof flu."

It seemed like no matter where, when visiting the doctor's he was forced to answer the same questions over and over again.

Lemleshor just shook his head sadly, "Not much can be done about that but let to it run its course," the doctor looked concerned for a moment and then shook his head, the smile back on his face, "I'll have nurse Misshi bring in some bulsk. It's a warm drink that will help with the congestion. And don't worry, Misshi isn't afraid of anything, I think she's been a nurse for longer than most of us have been alive and has seen everything," Lemleshor gave Obi-Wan one last look up and down and said, "I'll have her bring you some clean clothes too. One of the leaders, or perhaps even the whole core of the Party will wish to see you tomorrow, so get some rest. I'll be on call all night if anything happens."

And with that Lemleshor shook the padawan's hand one last time, wheeling the now empty tray away with him as he left.

Obi-Wan lay back on the bed, pulled off his boots, curled up in his robe and let his head roll towards the window. The courtyard was dark, though some of the windows in the wings across the gap were lit up. Above the building Obi-Wan could see the dark purplish tint of the sky and a few stars strong enough to fight against the artificial lighting and shine through. Even with his nap Obi-Wan felt completely drained. As un-jedi like as it was, he desperately wished for no more visits, no more doctors or nurses, and for him and his master to be back safe on Coruscant with no worries but the little things, like training or lessons with the younglings. With a deep feeling of homesickness the padawan drifted off to sleep, without even turning off the light.

Not even the arrival of Misshi a few hours later with a steaming mug and an armful of clothes woke him. She smiled a crinkled smile, pulled the covers out from under him with wrinkled, but strong hands and tucked the boy in. For in the eyes of Misshi, near everyone was a child or grandchild.

OHOHOHOHOHOH

A/N: As always, comments are super duper appreciated!