"How many times do I have to say it, Anakin? These training sessions are not competitions; they are exercises to build co-operation between padawans. You are meant to work together to overcome the obstacles presented to you - not to just barge in and override all other opinions."
"The team needed a leader-"
"Yes! One elected by agreement. Not the person who simply shouted down all opposition."
Obi-Wan's headache was back again. The Coruscant skyline stretched out beyond the Temple's walls, glittering spikes of transparisteel and polished ceramic against a sky painted with the dusky pinks and burnt oranges of late evening. The breeze was cool, pushing back the thick metal and oil scent of a world forged in industry. Usually evenings like this filled Obi-Wan with a kind of meditative peace; a calm that suffused him even when surrounded by the vast, teaming bustle of a trillion lives that pressed in around their small sanctuary. Instead, the combined pulse in the Force of all those people only added to the throbbing ache behind his left eye. Anakin had turned away, red-faced, the air around him roiling in frustration, his white-knuckle grip on the banister almost making the metal groan around it. Obi-Wan took a moment to breathe, using his palms in an attempt to press the headache back from his eyes. For someone who was always receiving praise for his calm demeanour, patience and diplomacy, it frankly amazed Obi-Wan how quickly Anakin could push him to the edge of all three. It was a gift on par with his skill in the Force - and one he seemed to use even more frequently.
"I just wanted us to win," Anakin said finally, voice small and achingly child-like. Obi-Wan sighed, releasing his frustration with his breath. It was difficult at times, remembering that his apprentice was still so young, in spite of his recent growth spurt and remarkable skills.
"The whole point of the exercise wasn't in winning or losing. It was about listening to your peers, using your individual strengths to overcome each obstacle. It was about team-work, Anakin. Something that - for all your skills - you are still sorely lacking in."
"I'm sorry Master," Anakin said, shoulders slumping as his grip slackened on the railing. His boyish face, still clinging to the softness of childhood, had an expression of utter dejection.
"I know that you are trying your best, Anakin, but you forget that the greatest strength of a Jedi does not lie in their skills with a lightsabre, or in the power of the Force alone. It is in our bond with each other. It is in the knowledge that you are surrounded by people who share with you the deepest of connections - the strongest of fellowships. It is only with this support and guidance, that the Jedi gain true strength."
"Yes Master," Anakin said. His defiance had burned out as quickly as it had ignited, leaving him staring bleakly at the ground. Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on the bony jut of his padawan's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Eventually Anakin raised his eyes to meet him.
"I have made a request to Master Yoda that we may be excluded from off-world missions for the next few months. I worry that having been away from the Temple for as long as we have, may have impacted your training. I must admit, I often forget just how vital it is to spend time with others of your own age," Obi-Wan said, dropping his hand and turning back to the view before them. "Additionally, it would be nice to sleep in a comfortable bed with regular meals for once. I can't remember the last time I had a-"
It was like every nerve in his body had been hit with a blast taser. The disruption in the Force was a concussive shock. A boom and a roar, followed by Anakin's voice shouting out in disbelief, as they both turned to look up at a flaming ship hurtling out of the atmosphere, smearing smoke behind it as it plummeted past the Temple and out towards the industrial district, shedding debris as it fell.
Obi-Wan and Anakin together, without a word, ran towards the shuttle dock. They could feel a trill of alarm ring up through the Temple in reaction to the disturbance. Already, Jedi and staff alike had begun to pour out of the doorways, eyes following the plume of destruction streaked across the horizon. A moment later, the air vibrated with a secondary explosion, off into the distance.
"Do you think this is an attack, Master?" Anakin asked as they wove through the growing crowd.
"If it is, they have a terrible aim," Obi-Wan replied, noticing a recognisable flash of green tendrils as they disappeared into a nearby speeder. Turning sharply, with Anakin half a step behind him, Obi-Wan made his way to the sleek silver side of a Republican airspeeder. An easy smile greeted him as he reached the cockpit.
"Master Fisto. Nadhar," Obi-Wan said with a low bow of greeting to both the Nautolan Jedi and the young padawan beside him. The Mon Calimari's skin was still the pale orange of youth, and it seemed to Obi-Wan only yesterday that he had seen Nadhar frolicking in the spawning pools, his vestigial tail still attached. How quickly time had passed. "I assume you are both making your way towards the crash site?"
"Master Kenobi," Kit Fisto greeted with a nod, pausing the flurry of his hands over the vehicles controls. "We were just about to leave. I have already sent one of the engineers to inform the Council that my apprentice and I would be making our way to the incident immediately."
"Excellent," Obi-Wan replied. "Would you mind if we joined you? I've witnessed a number of oddities in my time, but I've never seen anything quite like that. I'd be interested in getting a closer look."
"I'd happily welcome your assistance," the Nautolan said, his bright smile sharpening as he looked to Anakin, "if you are able to keep up with our speeder."
Anakin's face lit up at the friendly challenge, his smile almost as brilliant as the Nautolan's. Obi-Wan bit back a groan as his apprentice ran off towards a bright green speeder. Kit just laughed and, engaging his thrusters, threw Obi-Wan a parting wave before darting off into the Coruscant traffic. Barely a breath later, Anakin pulled the speeder up beside him.
"Perhaps I had best drive…" Obi-Wan said, hopping into the passenger seat just as Anakin hit the thrusters, shooting them into the tangled maze of the planet's traffic. Transporters and speeders zipped past, just a whistle of sound and colour as Anakin gunned the ship into a nose dive, corkscrewing through the lanes, his eyes bright and a manic smile plastered across his face. Obi-Wan resigned himself to gripping his seat and praying for a quick death, as they shot across the city. The glint of Kit Fisto's airspeeder was a tiny, glittering spec of silver before them. The vast smoke plumes that crowned the Industrial sector loomed up as the buildings levelled out. One of those buildings - a squat, dull grey duracrete box – had a billowing crater in the side of it. Obi-Wan pointed to it as they approached.
"Try to get as close to the crash as possible, Anakin," he said. Master Fisto's speeder had already landed on a balcony several floors above, and they watched as he and his padawan made their way into the building. Anakin hovered close to where the three finned tail of the airship was jutting out of the ruined wall. Obi-Wan got to his feet, taking a moment to judge the jump before turning back to address his apprentice.
"If you can, land the ship nearby. There may still be survivors to evacuate."
"Yes Master," Anakin replied, just as Obi-Wan leapt from the speeder to the rubble below. It took a moment to gain his balance on the uneven ground. The building creaked and groaned around him, the air thick with the smell of burning fuel and hot metal. Fire licked along a pile of mangled machinery parts and an assembly droid, its lower half decimated by a fallen support beam, whistled and beeped as it tried to pry itself from the wreckage. Overhead, severed electrical cables sparked and fizzled and the sound of an evacuation siren could be heard coming from further inside the factory. On crashing, the airship had wedged itself between two levels. The front of the vessel was entirely crushed by the impact, all that remained was a crumpled mass of white metal. Further along the body, near to the twisted mess of a side wing, was a large tear straight through the ships centre. Obi-Wan reached out with his senses, trying to find any spark of life from within the vessel, but could feel nothing.
Something wasn't right.
Obi-Wan edged his way towards the split, using a fallen strut to steady himself as he peered down into the gaping wound. It was a grisly sight. The inside had been almost entirely ripped apart, what looked like blue upholstered chairs were scattered and piled amid the unmistakable shape of humanoid bodies. Wires trailed from the ceiling like chacarus spider webbing, and bright bursts of yellow here and there could be spotted, often smeared in the darkening crimson of blood. The air was filled with the stench of melted fabric and flesh. Nothing moved.
"Hello?" Obi-Wan called into the hollowed shell. "Can anyone hear me? Is anyone alive?"
"Master Kenobi," a reply came from behind him. Obi-Wan turned to see Kit Fisto looking through a charred gap in the wall panels where the front of the plane had punched through into the corridor beyond. "Have you discovered any survivors?"
"No, not yet; although, I don't hold much hope. What about the people inside the building? Have they been evacuated?"
"Most of the workforce are droids, though we have discovered a few others. My padawan and I will continue to search the lower levels, to ensure there are no further casualties."
"Alright. I think I'm going to take a closer look inside this ship. There's something about it that just doesn't feel right to me."
"Be careful, friend," Master Fisto said, before giving a nod of acknowledgement.
"When am I not?" he mused to himself, the creeping feeling in his gut already telling him that this was probably a terrible idea. Obi-Wan turned back to the wreckage, reaching out with the Force in an effort to judge the best spot to land. He leapt down, boots hitting a spongy patch which squished unpleasantly underfoot. Obi-Wan thought it best not to look, and instead began to pick his way down the ruined interior. The inside wasn't like any ship he had ever seen. It was long and narrow, the number of seats and bodies scattered around seemed far too many for so small a vessel. Possibly some kind of transporter? There would have been little to no room to move around by his estimates. While slavery was illegal in the Republic, it did not wholly stop other, equally nefarious, ways for criminals to exploit the vulnerable or desperate. He had heard of seized cargo ships, crammed with 'workers' who had little choice, coerced into servitude to pay off overblown debt or on the promise of citizenship. Could this be one of those operations? Well, whatever had gone on here, there was nothing left now. Obi-Wan had managed to make his way to the back of the vessel, calling out occasionally in case anyone could hear him. There was nothing, no movement, no sound; just a terrible scent that reminded him of battle
"Master!" Anakin could be heard calling, before his face appeared through the tear in the ship. His wide blue eyes took in the scene. Obi-Wan wished he could keep this kind of horror from his padawan, as futile a thought as that was. This was all part of the life of a Jedi. All too often, there was nothing they could do but try to salvage any remaining hope from catastrophes they were unable to prevent
"Did you speak to Master Fisto?" Obi-Wan asked, drawing Anakin's attention back to him.
"Yes Master. He's working with the Republic Fire and Rescue droids. They've cleared the building and have a crew putting out the fires," Anakin replied, his eyes drawn back to a heartbreakingly small body in the corner. "Did nobody survive?"
"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan said, as he started making his way back up the ship. "There's nothing more we can do here. We had best help Master Fisto with the evacuation, and put in a request for a salvage team to come and extract the ship."
"Wait, Master!" Anakin said, his hand stretched out. Obi-Wan paused, reaching out to sense for danger, but nothing stirred. "I saw something…"
"Where?" Obi-Wan asked, whipping around in the direction of his padawan's gaze. Everything appeared as eerily silent as before. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the barest twitch of movement.
"Under those seats Master," Anakin said, but Obi-Wan was already moving, a careful jump setting him at a clearing next to a pile of debris. The jump, as it turned out, was not careful enough. The ship groaned, the floor lurching under the sudden impact of the Jedi's weight. The whole back end of the ship began to tilt and shift.
"Uh…that doesn't sound so good," Anakin called, from where he was still balanced against the wing. Obi-Wan quickly began to shift the twisted pieces of wreckage from the pile. A body appeared, face down, a huge shard of white metal piercing through the torso and out past the shoulder. From underneath, Obi-Wan could hear the faintest gasp. There! He could see a hand, crimson with gore but the fingers were moving, clawing at the ground. Obi-Wan eased the lifeless body to the side, revealing a prone figure underneath, the shallow rise and fall of their chest barely perceptible under the layered rubble and blood. The ship moved again, screeching in protest as it's metal hull scraped against the factory floor as it began to dip.
"Master!" Anakin shouted, "You have to get out of there. The ship's about to collapse through the floor."
"Get back from the ship!" Obi-Wan called back, stooping down to haul the blood drenched body into his arms. He ran up the hull, even as it began to shudder violently under his feet. Obi-Wan let the Force guide him, and when he felt the pull in his stomach that told him - Jump! Now! - he leapt for the gap, body twisting through the air, the ship sinking with a roar beneath him. Obi-Wan struck the ground hard, his torso angled to take the full brunt of the fall as he smacked into the far wall. Anakin was there beside him, dragging them both through the door and into the hallway beyond. They watched as the white ship dipped from sight, and felt the thunderous tremor as it crashed through the levels below, billowing dust and smoke up through the gaps in the floor.
"Are you alright Master?" Anakin asked between hacking coughs.
"Yes, I'm fine Anakin. Though that was a little too close for comfort," Obi-Wan admitted, already feeling the bruise forming across his back. "Quick, help me up. I'm afraid if I don't get them medical aid, this person won't last much longer."
With Anakin's help, Obi-Wan hauled himself to his feet. The humanoid in his arms hung limp in his grasp, their head lolling at an uncomfortable angle.
"I parked the speeder on the other side, Master - it's just this way," Anakin said, heading off down the hall at a run. Obi-Wan kept pace, the evacuation lights overhead casting everything in pulsing blue as they sprinted down the corridors. Occasionally a security or repair droid would come careening out of a side room, bumbling about code violations or evacuation procedures, but Anakin would push them aside with a casual flick of the Force. When they reached the landing pad, their green speeder was the only vehicle in sight. Obi-Wan wished his padawan didn't have such a love for fast aircraft; the speeder had only two seats.
"You'll need to stay here and help Master Fisto," Obi-Wan said, placing the body down as carefully as possible in the spare seat. "I also need you to contact the Jedi Temple. Inform them that I'll need a medical unit to meet me on landing bay zero-nine-two. Inform them that we have a priority one emergency."
"You're not going to take them to a Republic Medicentre?"
"There's no time," Obi-Wan said, flipping on the booster engines. "The Temple is closer than any of the nearby facilities. Once you've aided Master Fisto, I'll meet you back at the Temple."
"Yes, Master."
"Oh, and Anakin?" Obi-Wan said, catching his apprentice's eye. "Do try to stay out of trouble until you return…"
"Of course, Master," Anakin replied, but there was a light in his eye that automatically made Obi-Wan want to power down the speeder and give him an hour-long lecture on the importance of following orders. The unconscious body beside him was, however, rather more urgent than Obi-Wan's need to correct his padawan's impulses. With a parting frown of warning to his apprentice, Obi-Wan engaged the thrusters and pulled the speeder out into the darkening skyline.
While Obi-Wan had gradually become less enamoured with flying as he aged – and was subjected more and more frequently to Anakin's death-defying stunts – he was still a gifted pilot in his own right. Without his padawan's hair-raising theatrics, Obi-Wan cut across the Coruscant traffic, weaving between the glimmering buildings and darting vehicles. The Jedi Temple stood in the centre of it all; a calm oasis in the heaving bustle of a planet that never slept. The five Temple Spires reached out into the sky, the sight of them always filling Obi-Wan's heart with the promise of home. He looped the speeder round to the docking bay closest to the Infirmary. A team of healers and medi-droids were already waiting around a hoverbed, and Obi-Wan spotted the silver headpiece and yellow skin of Doctor Nema amongst them. He landed the speeder a few paces from the group and was immediately surrounded.
"Master Kenobi," Doctor Nema said in greeting, as she quickly moved to the other side of the vehicle. "I'm not sure whether I'm more relieved or surprised that it's not you or your padawan that I'm being called to treat for once."
"Oh, believe me, I'm just as shocked by it as you are," Obi-Wan replied, helping the Doctor lift her patient onto the hoverbed. Holograms and vital monitors popped up in the air surrounding the figure, and under the lights of the medi-droids, Obi-Wan got his first proper look at the person he'd rescued. They were undoubtedly a humanoid female; Obi-Wan could make out the features under the layers of dirt. Almost the entire right side of her body had been burnt. Some form of clothing, bright yellow in colour, had melted into the skin over her right arm and shoulder. Welts and shards of metal like shrapnel were embedded all the way up the side of her neck and face. She was covered in so much blood that Obi-Wan didn't want to guess how much was her own, or what was from the unfortunate body that had concealed her.
"Run a full scan," Doctor Nema calmly ordered, her fingers flying over the datapad in her hands. "We'll need to take her straight to the bacta-tanks. Doctor Z'halra, please go ahead of us and ready the chambers. The patient will need a full red cell transfusion when we arrive."
"Were there any other survivors?" Doctor Nema asked Obi-Wan directly, as the medi-droids started pushing the hoverbed towards the entrance to the Temple.
"I fear that this is the only one. If any more were left alive, it's unlikely they survived the second crash. Master Fisto is still at the scene with his padawan and Anakin. If they find any others, I'm sure they'll contact us immediately."
The entry doors to the Temple opened to reveal the high ceilings and carved archways of the inner halls. The medical centre and healing rooms were located close to the surface docks, specifically for ease of transportation should an injured Jedi arrive. As they walked, the medi-droids kept up a running commentary on the vital scans, with Doctor Nema interrupting every so often to ask questions. One of the droids suddenly blared a warning signal, it's faceplate flashing red as a ream of data streamed across its visual interface.
"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked, but the Doctor had stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes flickering over the display.
"Run a scan on Master Kenobi," she instructed one of the other droids. Before Obi-Wan could blurt out a question, he was near blinded by the blue beam of a medi-droid as it scanned down his body. Half a second later the faceplate flashed red, just as it had with the other one.
"Oh, I have a bad feeling about this," he said, as Doctor Nema tapped her fingers over her datapad. A blue forcefield shimmered to life around Obi-Wan and the woman on the hoverbed.
"I'm sorry Master Kenobi, but the scans have detected a number of contagions not matching anything found in our Archives. I'm afraid you will need to be quarantined while I run further diagnostics."
"Quarantined?" he replied back, as the medi-droid started ushering him back from the group towards the iso-chambers. His day really wasn't going as well as he had hoped. First the training with Anakin, then a crashed airship - and now he was likely infected with something that would, knowing his luck, kill him. Was it too much to ask for a day of relative normalcy? "How long will I have to be quarantined for? I do have a padawan to train."
"Oh, I'm sure it won't be for long, Master Kenobi," Doctor Nema said. "I'll have the medics run an analysis as their top priority."
Obi-Wan sighed, letting the medi-droid shuffle him out of the hallway. The blue forcefield followed him as he walked towards the back of the medical sector. Every so often his droid minder would whistle and beep, as though admonishing him for his poor decision-making skills.
"Yes, yes. No need to be quite so impatient," he said, as the door to one of the iso-chambers opened, revealing a large room with a single bed in the middle. As he stepped inside, his forcefield flickered off as the chamber doors sealed shut, an observation room on the far side the only break in the smooth grey walls around him. With a long-suffering sigh, Obi-Wan lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.
He was never going to hear the end of this from Anakin.