Midnight hour almost over, time is running out for the magic pair, I know you gave the best that you have, but one more chance, couldn't be all that hard to bear
-Hall & Oates; "Wait for Me"
~0~
Qui Gon hadn't been what one would call a model Jedi.
He often disagreed with the regulations and principles of the Jedi Order, preferring to adhere to the essence of the Code rather than its literal interpretation, and he was not afraid to challenge the Council. Unlike most Jedi who relied on meditation to gain insight into the future, Qui Gon embraced living in the present.
He realized it was more beneficial to concentrate on the reality of situations rather than his initial expectations.
The relationship between master and apprentice had been wrought with challenges. Qui Gon's attitude towards the Jedi Code was more a more relaxed one, instead of something rigid and unyielding. If he tried asking his apprentice to embody the spirit of the Code as opposed to the literal interpretation, it instead resulted in Obi Wan trying that much harder to do the complete opposite.
Despite these differences, which quite often led to many arguments and disagreements, Qui Gon always remained steadfastly proud of his apprentice.
Obi Wan had shed much of his rebellious and willful attitude, adopting a more rigid, integrate one and yet, despite this, he still possessed the nature of your typical 16-year-old teenage boy - defiance, impulsivity, assertiveness.
He wasn't at all surprised, then, to hear of the scuffle in the gym. Nor that his apprentice was involved in all of that. It was still something he'd been made aware of, and a conversation that was had.
Disgruntled and dismayed, Obi Wan practically stormed his way to his quarters, by passing the gawking stares of curious onlookers. Word must have gotten around the temple. Everyone was whispering of the impromptu lightsaber duel in the gym, and how Obi Wan came out the victor despite Quinlan being the aggressor.
He shouldered his way inside, bee lining for the refresher, where he ran a cold-water tap, and splashed his face a few times. The drop in temperature was a shock, but it worked to lower his heart rate. He reached for a face towel and dabbed at the water droplets on his forehead, then turned from the sink.
His master - Qui Gon Jinn - was waiting for him, sitting in a corner chair, silhouetted by a vacancy of light, save for a small one on the end table. His sudden appearance, something Obi Wan was not expecting, startled the young padawan, who brought a hand to his chest, feeling the increase in heart rhythm he just worked to lower.
Qui Gon sat forwards, "I was called to a council meeting today, about what happened in the training gym, between you and Padawan Vos," he said, not exactly beating around the bush, wasting no time getting to the point; very typical of him. "Care to explain, young Padawan?"
Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the weight of Qui-Gon's gaze on him. He took a deep breath before responding, choosing his words carefully.
"It was just a momentary lapse in judgment, Master," Obi-Wan began. "Padawan Vos and I were sparring, and things got heated. We both let our emotions get the better of us."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the vague explanation. "And what exactly led to this 'momentary lapse in judgment'?"
Obi-Wan sighed, knowing he had no choice but to be honest. "I was sparring with some of the sparring droids and Vos walked in, looking for a match. Padawan Tachi told him to knock it off, but he pointed his lightsaber at her. Bolla, Prie - they were watching too, they knew I could take him. Vos goaded me into attack by striking first."
Qui-Gon's expression remained stern, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "Words can carry great power, Padawan," he reminded Obi-Wan gently. "How did you handle the situation once it became clear that it was getting out of hand?"
Feeling a pang of guilt, Obi-Wan lowered his gaze. "I didn't handle it well at first, Master. I allowed my anger to take control, and we ended up exchanging blows rather than resolving our differences peacefully."
Qui-Gon nodded slowly, absorbing the information, then cleared his throat. "I see." There was a brief pause before he continued. "What have you learned from this experience? How will you ensure such conflicts are avoided in the future?"
Straightening his posture, Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's gaze with determination. "Master, he threatened Siri," he stated firmly. "I did what I had to, what I thought was right."
"At any point of this, did you attempt to disarm him and clear yourselves of the situation?"
Obi Wan opened his mouth, but held it agape, like a fish out of water, seeking oxygen.
Qui-Gon knew of his answer. " Padawan, remember, growth comes from acknowledging our mistakes and learning from them. I trust that you will take this lesson to heart."
Obi-Wan felt a mix of relief and gratitude towards his master. He knew he had disappointed Qui-Gon, but the fact that he was given an opportunity to learn and grow meant everything to him.
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said sincerely. "I won't let you down again."
Qui Gon smiled. "I know you won't."
As Qui-Gon Jinn meditated in the quiet solitude of his quarters, he felt a disturbance in the Force. This feeling - he recognized it; he'd felt it before. There were times in which one Jedi could sense another in peril when in close proximity, perhaps even picturing it in one's mind's eyes.
Closing his eyes and opening himself to the Force, he tried to understand its message.
Images flashed through his mind's eye - scenes of danger, turmoil, and darkness. He saw his Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but something was wrong. His usually bright grey-blue eyes were clouded over, distant, and unfocused.
There was a darkness lurking within him that threatened to consume his light.
Concern washed over Qui-Gon as he realized that the Force was warning him about Obi-Wan's state of being. The bond between master and apprentice allowed for such connections to be formed, enabling Qui-Gon to sense when something was amiss with his Padawan.
Rising to his feet, the Jedi master grabbed his commlink, "Come in, Obi Wan. Come in. Padawan, come in. Obi Wa - " Silence reverberated back, creating unease in Qui Gon's heart-something wasn't right.
That aching, gnawing feeling in his belly grew worse.
Qui Gon's mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He had always been attuned to the Force, and his connection with Obi Wan was strong. But now, there was something off, something that didn't sit right with him.
He left his quarters, immediately making a hard left, and then a sharp right. His walk was slow, but determined. The further he got, the worse the feeling became. Fear gripped at Qui Gon's heart. He grabbed at his chest and braced himself against the wall, breathing hard. He fought to center himself, to control his breathing, but the pain - it was too much.
He closed his eyes, reaching out through the Force to find his young Padawan. Help! Someone, help! We need a medic!
The familiar presence that usually radiated strength and determination felt distant and frail. It was as if a veil had been drawn over their bond, obstructing their connection.
Obi Wan...
His unease turned into a sense of dread as he quickened his pace.
The temple dormitories were some distance from the council spire atrium, but only required the use of one turbo lift, that - in Qui Gon's opinion - took far too long. In reality, it wasn't long at all. To a master in desperate need to reach his padawan, it took a lifetime. As he stepped out of the turbo lift, he quickened his pace, his mind filled with worry for his padawan. The sound of his own footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of the temple dormitories, heightening the tension that gripped him.
Each turn he took seemed to stretch on endlessly, as if time itself was working against him. The walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with every step. He couldn't shake off the feeling that every second wasted could have dire consequences.
Then a right, and another left, and a right again, then a mad dash down a third corridor - until the gathering of padawans came to view. Qui Gon began shouldering his way through them. He finally reached the center and saw Siri Tachi on the floor, her lips locked with Obi-Wan's, but it wasn't a typical kiss. She was desperately trying to breathe life back into him.
The sight sent a jolt of panic through Qui Gon. He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands trembling as he assessed Obi-Wan's condition. His apprentice lay pale and still.
"Siri," Qui Gon's whispered urgently.
Siri glanced up at him, tears threatening her eyes. "There was a fight, and Obi Wan, he - well, he tried to get up, but then, the blood, and -," she replied, her voice filled with anguish.
Qui Gon's blood ran cold.
The situation seemed dire, but he had seen Obi-Wan overcome incredible odds before. Determination washed over him as he focused on what needed to be done.
"We need to get him medical assistance, immediately," he said firmly, his mind racing. "Find help! Summon the healers!"
Siri nodded wordlessly and quickly rose from Obi-Wan's side. She dashed off towards the nearest communication terminal to alert the Jedi healers of their urgent situation. Had her pleas for help earlier gone unanswered? And where had Quinlan Vos scampered off to? She didn't have time to think.
Qui Gon's attention was back to Obi-Wan, gently cradling his apprentice's head in his hands. He could feel the absence of a pulse beneath his fingertips.
He applied pressure to the injury, keeping a firm hold to staunch blood flow, then he started breathing into Obi Wan, side-eyeing the gradual rise and fall of Obi Wan's chest. A tiny amount of air escaped through the hole in the teen's chest cavity, reverberating back against Qui Gon's hand.
Qui Gon moved swiftly and firmly, rhythmically pumping Obi Wan's chest - one, one two three, two, one two three - and every few seconds, would stop to check for vitals.
Undeterred, Qui Gon resumed his rescue efforts, continuing the cycle of chest compressions and periodic breathing. With each pause in compressions, he listened carefully for any indication that Obi Wan's body was responding. Minutes passed like agonizing hours as Qui Gon tirelessly performed lifesaving rescue efforts, refusing to give up hope. The room filled with tension and despair as the Jedi Master fought against time itself.
With all the strength he could muster, Qui Gon urged the Force within him to flow through his hands and into Obi-Wan's body, attempting to stabilize his apprentice's condition. He closed his eyes, focusing on the connection they shared as master and padawan, channeling his love and determination to bring Obi-Wan back from the brink.
Minutes turned into an eternity as Qui Gon poured every ounce of his energy into healing Obi-Wan. The sounds of footsteps and urgent voices filled the air as help arrived, but Qui Gon remained unwavering in his task.
Finally, a faint gasp escaped Obi-Wan's lips. Relief flooded through Qui Gon. "Obi-Wan," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Stay with me, my young Padawan." He felt a glimmer of relief at the faint thudding beneath his palm, weak but steady.
Siri looked up as Bolla and Prie came running back, a team of medical staff trailing behind them, and jedi masters to include Mace Windu and Ki-Adu Mundi following, and among the rest where Tholme and Siri's jedi master, Adi Gallia.
The vast sea of padawans part, allowing medical to shoulder through. Qui Gon was hesitant to leave Obi Wan's side. He protested. One of the healers elbowed him out of the way. The jedi master felt a surge of anger, but steeled his emotions, letting the healers attend to his padawan, while he sat back and waited, patiently, watching the sluggish tick tick on the portable cardio machine they had his apprentice hooked up to.
They fitted him with a pulmonary resuscitation breathing mask, and adjusted a knob on the left side of the box to adjust the vital gas mixture ratio.
A patch was used as a binder on Obi Wan's chest to temporarily seal the wound.
Qui Gon's sigh of relief was short-lived. Alarms blared and screamed. Healers scurried. And with horror, he watched as his apprentice's body went limp, and the echo drone to a flat line.
The jedi master jumped back. We need to get him to the infirmary, he heard one of them say, but he couldn't be sure. His eyes darted around. Some padawans and their masters still remained, while others had been ushered from the area. Bolla, Prie, and Siri - friends to Obi Wan - looked on in mixtures of concern and terror. He could sense their emotions, their fear.
The healers adjusted the vital gas ratio further, forcing more of it into Obi Wan's lungs, and monitoring the rhythmic movements of his chest. They moved him to a bio bed stretcher, and began moving him from the area, the lack of cardiac activity droning on, the sound echoing down the hall, until it quieted as they rounded a corner.
He started after them, but Windu's hand on his shoulder held him back. "You have done all you could, Master Qui Gon."
Despite Windu's attempt to hold him back, Qui Gon ignored the restraining hand on his shoulder and followed after his apprentice.
He felt a heavy weight in his chest, his heart pounding with every step. The infirmary seemed miles away, the journey taking an eternity. As they finally arrived, Qui Gon could see the panicked faces of the medical staff, desperately trying to revive his apprentice.
The Jedi Master felt a surge of panic welling up inside him as he watched the healers desperately trying to revive Obi Wan after the teen's heart stopped for the second time.
The fear threatened to consume him, but he knew he couldn't let it take over. He had to stay focused, remain in control.
With each step forward, Qui Gon forced himself to take slow and steady breaths. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. It was his anchor amidst the chaos surrounding him. He repeated this mantra silently in his mind, finding solace in its simplicity. Qui Gon kept repeating his mantra, reminding himself to breathe amidst the overwhelming fear that threatened to engulf him.
Time seemed to blur together as they worked tirelessly to stabilize Obi Wan's condition.
And then, finally, there was a glimmer of hope. We got a heartbeat! The tension in Qui Gon's shoulders eased slightly as he allowed himself a momentary respite.
But they were far from clear of the danger; Obi Wan was losing blood at a rapid rate.
A healer applied pressure over Obi-Wan's chest, trying her best to stem the flow of blood. She concentrated intently, using every ounce of her training and skill to create a temporary barrier against further hemorrhaging.
Time was working against them.
It felt like an eternity to reach the infirmary, and Qui Gon exhaled the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He tried to go in there behind them, but one of the healers barred him from entering.
Qui Gon raised an eyebrow at the healer's obstruction. "I need to see him," he insisted, his voice filled with concern.
The healer shook their head firmly. "I'm sorry, Master Jinn, but only authorized personnel are allowed in the infirmary."
Qui Gon's patience wore thin, and he leaned closer to the healer. "Obi Wan is my padawan. I am authorized personnel. I have every right to be in there."
The healer sighed sympathetically, understanding Qui Gon's worry. "I understand your concern, Master Jinn, but the healers need space to work. They will do everything they can for your Padawan."
Qui Gon's eyes showed a mix of frustration and gratitude as he nodded reluctantly. "Do whatever you can," he said softly before stepping back.
The door shut in his face, putting a barrier between master and apprentice; a first in many years.
~/~/~
A surgeon called him into an office, then thumbed a switch on the wall.
The room instantly filled with soft, dimmed lighting as the surgeon motioned for Qui Gon to take a seat; the Jedi Master preferred to stand. The office was adorned with medical diplomas and certificates, creating an atmosphere of expertise and professionalism.
The surgeon was man in his mid-40s, quite tall and carrying himself with dignity, already with light peppering in his beard.
Qui Gon steadied his breath. "Initially, we came across bleeding from an artery that had been severed, but we managed to fix it relatively easily. After that, we conducted a thorough search for any additional sources of bleeding, during which he unfortunately suffered his third cardiac arrest."
The surgeon paused, giving Qui Gon a moment to process the information. The Jedi Master's eyes narrowed with concern as he listened intently.
"We managed to revive him successfully," the surgeon continued on, his voice calm and composed. "We opened up the right side of his chest while looking for other sources of bleeding since it seemed to stem from there and we found two decently sized pieces of glass protruding from his heart."
Qui Gon's brows furrowed further. The window! He thought.
"We carefully removed the glass fragments without causing further damage," the surgeon explained, his tone displaying a sense of professional accomplishment. "The heart was severely lacerated, but we managed to repair it."
The surgeon paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.
"Fortunately, our team responded swiftly, and we were able to stabilize him during the procedure. We administered blood transfusions to replace the significant amount lost and ensured adequate oxygenation throughout."
The normally stoic Jedi Master felt a strong vice hold on his insides; he'd probably spill the contents of his stomach later. "What of his chances of recovery?"
"The next few hours for Obi Wan will be very crucial," he cautioned, maintaining his composed demeanor, gripping the edge of his desk as he leaned against it. "We had our healers put him in a hibernation trance and fitted him with a full-bodied bacha suit. It's his best chance. The rest of it - well, that's up to him, and the Force."
For all outwardly appearances, Obi Wan Kenobi appeared to be dead; no, not dead, just in a deep hibernation trance, for his own good; to help with the healing, medics had said.
A hibernation trance - also called a healing trance, or recovery trance - allowed Force-users to put their bodies into a deep hibernation state, in which life functions had drop to the barest minimum for an individual. This was regarded as the most drastic aspect of Curato salva, a power centered around control that is employed as a final measure to sustain essential bodily functions.
A person's metabolism and breathing would drop to a standstill, causing only a tenth of needed air supply to be used. For all intents and purposes, normal cardiac activity would appear almost non-existent. A faint heartbeat could be detected through use of a stethoscope, or a slight flicker registering on life sensors.
Qui Gon stood over his apprentice's still form, a large hand resting over Obi Wan's forehead, his eyes shut tight; he was concentrating.
A breathing mask had been fitted over the teen's nose and mouth, his body in a flexpoly bacta suit that comprised of translucent bacta circulation and filtration tubing. He looked quite peaceful, the ever so gentle inhale of air from his lungs, followed by a gradual fall of his chest as he exhaled.
The normal resting heart rate for a young Jedi apprentice like Obi Wan was typically around forty to fifty beats per minute. The only physical activity of life was the occasional flicker on the sensors, and the low humming frequency.
Qui Gon continued to monitor Obi Wan's vital signs, concern etched on his face. He knew that the young Jedi was in a critical condition and every minute counted.
As he observed the faint blip on the life sensors, Qui Gon couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders. It was his duty as Obi Wan's master to protect and guide him, yet here they were, battling against such a critical injury that had left Obi Wan teetering the line of life and death.
Time seemed to stand still as Qui Gon desperately reached out to the Force, seeking guidance and strength.
Obi Wan dreamt of the stars, of walking through the maps in the Temple that pinpointed every star in the entire galaxy. He reached out to touch the one closest to Bandomeer, with giant dull red lights, a low dim hue of a star long dead.
Bandomeer - an agricultural planet in the Outer Rim Territories, where the Hydian Way met with the Braxant Run.
If not taken on as an apprenticed padawan, it is a position in the Agricultural Corps, or the Educational Corps for you. They said the Republic needed healers and farmers, too, but Obi Wan knew as much; it was a job for rejects, those too weak to rise to rank of Knighthood.
It was a place where you could die if not mindful of the dangers around you.
Obi Wan awoke in the med ward, with tubes protruding from his arms and an oxygen mask secured over his nose and mouth. There was a moment in which he thought this could still be his dream, until he saw Qui Gon standing over him, with his large hand resting on Obi Wan's forehead.
Obi Wan blinked, clearing the fog from his vision, "H-How are you here?"
"Do not speak, boy," came Qui Gon's reply, his tone soft and smooth as velvet, "The medics did what they could, but your wounds were beyond their capabilities. I have managed the worst of them."
For a moment, he appeared hopeful, but he the Force told him the truth; "You didn't come looking for me, did you?"
Qui Gon shook his head. "I did not. I, too, am going to Bandomeer, but for an entirely different reason."
"Well, maybe you could take me with you, and maybe you could show me - "Again, the man shook his head, leaving Obi Wan to hang his head in defeat.
Qui Gon turned his body away. "Rest now, and forget about me, Obi Wan."
"But -"
"There are other ways to serve the Jedi. The Corps - there is honor in that, too. Have heart, young one."
Obi Wan knew it wasn't meant or said cruelly, but the Jedi Master's words had struck a hard blow to the pre-teen's ego. It wasn't the first time he faced rejection; many other Masters before Qui Gon had also turned him down, or sent him back.
He simply tried to hide his disappointment with a gentle nod.