Good day all,

Thus begins chapter 17 of The Making of Grey. What an adventure this has been, I am having the time of my life putting it into words. There are a few key pieces hidden within the sentences in this chapter… read carefully.

Enjoy, my friends.

Happy Writing,

Eliana

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As much as Eddy hated these improvised chairs that they had thrown together from used supply crates, he was suddenly incredibly grateful for them. He was beyond tired, his energy wrest away from him the hours that this day had brought, and his fatigue was obvious when he released a heavy breath and propped his weight back against the durasteel tent beam behind him.

His young companion who occupied the crate next to him had leaned his weight forward instead, his elbows resting on his knees and his arms flopping loosely between his legs. The last two hours had pulled whatever remaining energy he held straight out of him then demanded a bit more – but as much as the doctor hated to see it this way, he had to honestly say that without that sacrifice his very dear friend would be dead.

It had taken every bit of his knowledge, Bones' determination, and Djibourdi's creativity with his plants to pull Donovan away from the grips of death and now, unless by some stroke of dumb luck his friend went septic past the antibiotics that being were pushed into his system, he would live. This tent wasn't the place to treat the wounds that he had, but thanks to the supplies the Jedi had brought him and the moxy of his allies they had pulled the impossible out of thin air. Donovan was improving fast as the medical droids fluttered around him.

A strained hiccup rocked the teenager next to him, and Eddy knew what that translated to. Over-exertion was a monster, and it was about to make its presence known. He reached out to put a confident hand on his friend's back, earning a look back.

"You're a trooper, kiddo," he murmured warmly, "I know you don't need to hear it from me, but I'm proud of you."

Djibourdi gave him a weak smile that upended into a frown, his throat pressed with his forced swallow. Bones nudged the padawan with a small container of overly sweet juice, and the gesture was returned with confusion.

"You need to stabilize your blood sugar, sir."

"I have the implant," Djibourdi's voice was gravely and weak, another roll of nausea making him press his lips together hard enough to turn them pink with blood loss.

"'s got nothin' to do with bein' diabetic, Dji," Eddy told him, his own words pronounced with a light slur in his fatigue, "You're crashin' from too much work and over exertion. We gotta get you stable again before you –"

Those words died on his lips when muscle memory had him ripping a dish from the side table next to him and shoving it under his friend's face when he lost his fight against the rolling waves of nausea.

"Too late," he chuckled, stroking his hand down the quivering back of his friend as the clone medic went in search of water and a towel. There wasn't much for Djibourdi to bring up, and when his stomach settled for a moment, he curled his nose with revulsion and a grimace.

"That's disgusting."

That earned him a laugh from both conscious men in the space with him, the hand on his back moving to pat his shoulder sympathetically as he rinsed his mouth free of the foul-tasting bile that remained.

"Everythin' he's seen today and this is what he finds gross," the Togruta chuckled to the clone.

"Definitely got a medic in him, sir," Bones returned, offering the towel he had brought to his commander whose trembling hands accepted it.

"We should probably get you to bed, Dji. And should probably get you on an IV – you didn't really have much to lose," Eddy noted, not missing the miniscule shake of the younger head. The shadows of his prior days as a patient left a dark mark on his resolve.

"I agree, sir. Shall I summon the general?" the clone medic questioned, accepting the towel back and collecting the dish of waste.

Eddy didn't need to think about his answer and agreed quickly, feeling the muscles under his hand beginning to shake and tremble as the remaining bit of adrenaline left Djibourdi's system. He was done – even if he was forced to, he doubted the teenager would be able to fight his way out of a wet paper bag. Djibourdi didn't move and he didn't answer the conversation that went on above his head, only moving when Tombur made his way into the room and was crouched by his side.

"How is he?" the Echani asked of the doctor, a slight nod being given in the direction of Donovan who was deathly still not far from them. His padawan was willing to share his fatigue with him through their bond – he didn't need to ask how bad it was.

"He'll live, thanks to you gettin' those supplies and your padawan lending a hand to slow his bleeding…otherwise we would've lost him to blood loss or shock."

Tombur was admittedly relieved to hear that, a small weight passing off of his shoulders before a much heavier one was chucked on. Under his light grip, his padawan's arm trembled and jumped like it was being electrocuted and his eyes were barely open. It was enough for him to call to his medic who was now gathering items a few paces away:

"Bones, the shaking?"

"Adrenaline crash, sir," the medic answered, a bag of saline added to the bag he was packing, "He will be fine after rest, fluids, and stabilizer."

"So we should get him to bed, then," Anakin's voice was new to the conversation, he and Ahsoka making their way into the space with them.

That was the only moment that Djibourdi reacted, his eyes flashing the slightest bit of relief at seeing his friend standing, pain free, and her wounds better dressed than when he had left her. The sadness in her eyes was all that bothered him but suddenly…he didn't have the energy to address it, nor could he honestly really spare the effort to intervene. She hovered over to be slightly behind him, Anakin wandering over to stand in front of him.

"It's been a long day – I think all of you should get some rest," he told all four of his allies in front of him, "I'll get Djibourdi to bed then I'll keep an eye on things for a while."

"I can handle my padawan," Tombur told him, and was nearly surprised at the enthusiastic smirk that passed across the human's lips at his statement before he smugly crossed his arms.

"I don't doubt it, but he isn't the only one running on empty. You need to crash for a while too – don't argue, you know I'm right. That running doesn't come effortlessly."

Tombur's face told him exactly where to go with that moxy of his but he was admittedly silent, and then Anakin's face turned to the doctor.

"You too."

"I'm gonna stay here for a bit to keep an eye on them," Eddy responded, glancing to his friend who slumbered nearby, "I want to make sure nothing changes."

"They're stable, we have med droids with them," Anakin returned with a hum before he glanced at his padawan, "You can do some final checks, but then we all need to catch our breaths so we're ready for whatever comes next. Ahsoka will make sure you do."

"What?!" the mock outrage the doctor played off had him shooting a flabbergasted look to the teenager, and she suddenly wore a half-smirk of her own.

"You heard him," she joyfully emphasized to the doctor, acknowledging her master's silent instruction after with a soft eye roll, "Yes master, then I'll go rest too."

"Good," Anakin gave a finalizing nod, crouching down so he could try to find Djibourdi's gaze though the younger made a point to dodge him, "Let's get you out of here."

The padawan took that as an instruction to stand and did so dutifully, perhaps with too much enthusiasm as his knees decided that they would have none of it. For the first time Anakin could remember since they met, he moved faster than Tombur. He was quick to catch the Togruta's weight against him before he could hit the ground, his hold strengthened by the multiple sets of hands and calling voices that guided the youngest Togruta in the room back down to where he was. That became an immediate concern in the human's mind – Tombur never mis-stepped, so Anakin doubted his padawan did either… added to the shuddering breaths and trembling of the body he supported against his, he could only conclude that Djibourdi wasn't in a good place.

"Whoa, easy Red," Tombur spoke to his padawan who had yet to let his grip of Anakin go as it quelled the sensation of falling, "Take it easy, you're tapped out."

"You're not walking anywhere - I'm going to carry you back," Anakin told the padawan, not surprised when the dark purple, blue, and white montrals shook a negative against his shoulder. So, he was more like Ahsoka than he gave him credit for, he reckoned – so he would treat him as such. He drew himself back and finally found those clouded eyes, meeting them with a firm tone, "Alright listen: you've got two choices. You're either going to let me carry you back to your quarters, or I'll call Rex and the boys and have them make a stretcher for you – and we'll take you on that. Which one is it going to be?"

Djibourdi's answer was simple: he only sighed, then slowly closed his eyes. Anakin understood well how much it hurt to have to swallow one's pride deep down and trap it, so he decided to not draw out the younger's pain any longer than he had to. He turned himself around to face away from the energy-deprived teenager and arranged himself between the Togruta's knees, gesturing over his shoulder to his other companions to summon their help.

"Help him onto my back, I'll carry him to his room."

Ahsoka was surprised at the compliance from the other two Jedi that shared the space with herself and her master. Djibourdi didn't fight any of them when they lifted him up and onto Anakin's back, and only lightly grumbled when the human hooked his arms under his knees before the padawan was off the ground. Tombur hadn't protested at Anakin taking the weight of his padawan but instead trailed with the pair, hovering like a lost meteor caught in the gravity belt of a planet – both of them had fallen so drastically out of character that she found herself having to force focus and return to her assigned task.

She quirked an expectant eyebrow ridge at the doctor who defiantly puffed his cheeks at her, and then conceded to her unspoken order with a scowl and a stuck-out tongue. He did a final check in with Bones to ensure he was collecting what he would need to help their young friend and then, ragged and worn, followed Ahsoka out of the enclosed room to trudge toward his quarters.

Anakin's nose curled at the smell of the crusted blood that had lodged itself in every crook of Djibourdi's hands and arms, his eyes just able to skim the red skin that dangled over his shoulders. The day had been hell for this kid, and it was only just past midday, though the sky didn't look like it. It rumbled with grey clouds and cool winds, brushing the smell of old blood away and replacing it with the soothing scent of oncoming rain.

"…'m too heavy…"

The incredibly softly whispered grumble took him by surprise, but then he laughed. This kid was still trying to protest when he was half-conscious… he was actually impressed at the realization that he wasn't the only one who would dig deep to make sure his pride stayed intact. Stubborn and defiant was this one, just like his master.

"You aren't too heavy, Djibourdi."

The padawan let out a weary hum, then again whispered to him:

"Don' wanna fall."

That admission twisted the human's heart, and without thinking he tightened his hold slightly.

"You're not going to fall," the human told him, turning just slightly to eye his face as he waited for Tombur to open the door to their quarters and see him through, "I've got you. Just relax, you're okay… we're almost there."

That wasn't a lie. He was climbing the stairs now, the only time that he began to rethink the weight that he carried now that gravity tried to pull him back. There was no more protesting from the teenager that was strung across his back when he finally made his way to the landing, then over to the bunk that Tombur indicated as the Echani drew back the covers.

He turned himself around to set Djibourdi down, nodding his understanding the other knight who announced he was going to retrieve soap and water before he had rotated back around to face the padawan who seemed…almost fascinated to see where he was. His mind clearly wasn't functioning on its normal level, and that brought concern for both Jedi knights.

The Togruta was shockingly silent and complacent when Tombur returned, not a whisper of a complaint passing through his lips when the Echani set himself down on the task of pulling off his remaining gear, his boots, and his headdress before lightly scrubbing at the inky blood that had molded itself into his skin. Anakin had put himself in a position to just be a prop and a constant, his mind whirring over the events of the day when Bones joined them with his collection of supplies.

Still the Togruta was quiet, the mixed smells of gore and sea salt clashing in the air, the safety of his master's presence pit against the caution surrounding the human's, and the calming warmth of the man who supported him contrasting to the anxiety that spiked to his throat at the sight of the needle in Bones' hand all formed a blur that he couldn't find the energy or presence of mind to care about. His senses, normally his strongest ally that he fed with the Force, had decided that they would be of no more help today.

He could hear the low murmurs of the voices that spoke to him, the ones that aimed to soothe his fearful clicks at the IV needle approaching the skin of his forearm but instead succeeded in lulling him into a daze…and when he found it within himself to piece his awareness together again, he was cocooned in the blessed haven that was his bed with Tombur fussing with the covers that were tucked around him. The people hovering around him were still talking to one another, but it all grew quiet after a soft:

"Anakin? Thank you."

Sounded from his side, and when he drifted back Djibourdi noted that two of the presences that had been there with him had disappeared. His master rested a warm hand on his forehead before he moved off too, toward the refresher, knowing full well how closely his padawan teetered on the edge of exhaustion. What he also knew, but had vainly wished would lose out for once, was how annoyingly stubborn the younger could be.

It came to rear its ugly head when Tombur emerged from the refresher not terribly long later, skin smelling of herbs and soothing flowers and hair hanging wet around his shoulders. He went from calmly drying the white strands to his padawan's side instantly with a blurted:

"Red, lie down!"

It didn't require much effort to carefully lift his padawan back onto the bed and push him to a laying position before, as he fussed over the covers and checked the dripping IV line, he softly chided the exhausted teenager.

"Djibourdi, you need to rest – what were you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

Whatever actual reprimand he intended died on his lips when he caught a glimpse of what his apprentice had gathered in his small adventure: a small packet of antibiotic ointment and an adhesive bandage. Of all the things he had taught the Togruta, it seemed that he had firmly landed the lesson on standing by what he believed.

"'ou're still 'urt," the words came out slurred from Djibourdi's lips, but two of his fingers raised to gesture to the small, now scabbed, cut on his master's forehead.

Now that made the Echani do a double take. That was what he focused himself on?

"It's a cut, Red," his master's answer was incredulous, "I'll handle it in a minute."

Djibourdi shook his head, his lips shuddering with his effort to breathe deeply and stay awake. The Jedi within Tombur wanted to correct the behavior – this with a painfully blatant side effect of his padawan's attachment, one that would only serve to provide more agony than was needed when the day (hopefully far from today) came where he would be forced to let go… and yet…

"It's that important to you?" he pressed, and those drawn eyes flashed with determination.

A soft hum left his throat with contemplation, and he felt his gaze soften. Djibourdi wasn't the only one with the attachment and, in Tombur's defense, he understood that his padawan would fight him if he had to until his master gave in. For the sake of getting him rest, the Echani relented.

"Fine," he spoke to the exhausted face and held up a waiting finger when his padawan went to move, "but, then you will rest. Fair?"

He got a nod in response. His soft-spoken reprimand was halfhearted as he pushed the padawan back down when he went to sit up, and instead sat himself on the edge of the bed and leaned himself down so his apprentice had easy access to the small wound. The entire effort was painfully slow, Djibourdi's fingers jumping and twitching while his arms shook with the demand of effort from a dry well…and when he finally pressed the adhesive of the bandage to his master's skin, he lay still with a sloppy smile.

"Satisfied?" Tombur asked, pleased at the look of peace that washed over his friend.

The trash was carelessly collected and then chucked into the waste basket next to the cot. The Echani turned back to the half-lidded gaze of his apprentice, reaching to run a caring hand across his montrals and forehead – just enough to give him a connection to push his sleep suggestion through.

"Rest now, Vly'Dji," his words were warm, and finally, mercifully, Djibourdi fell into slumber.

'Stubborn, self-sacrificing little thing,' was his thought that made him chuckle with amusement when he stood, making sure to re-tuck the covers and check the IV line one more time before turning to his own cot. It didn't take him long to fall asleep himself, his body turned to keep a watchful eye over the younger even in his sleep.

Rest wasn't as plentiful for the doctor who found himself seated in a chair by his friend's bedside three standard hours later, the steady rise and fall of the sleeping man's chest the most calming thing that he had seen all day. Eddy had managed a nap and woke to the sun stretching itself over to touch the edge of the horizon, making it cast a warming orange glow on the alert camp of clones.

He had originally planned to check on the safety of the youngest Jedi among them, but Bones met him with assurance that it wasn't necessary. He had already exchanged the bags of fluid and pushed stabilizer and an antiemetic into his friend's system in his slumber. When Eddy had asked him how he managed to do that without being taken out by either of the Jedi in that room, he had only gotten a smile.

Eddy wanted to smile – he wanted to be happy that everyone was alive. They were all recovering, they had emerged from disastrous danger without major incident and certainly, if nothing else, that was enough to be thankful for. Instead, he found himself here, in the medical tent seated on a repurposed crate, with tears biting his eyes as he listened to the soft beeping of the heart monitor attached to his friend.

He was no Jedi. He was just a Togruta… he no longer wanted to be hiding in the wilderness now that he knew that these people were hunting his kind down, that there were shadows outside of these walls that aimed to rip him (and all his kin) to shreds and spill their blood in the name of some damned religion he didn't understand. His two closest friends lay here, and he had almost lost them both.

One was fortunate that she only had a torn rotator cuff and the remnants of a beating, and the other had almost bled out when those hellish creatures almost tore his leg off while shredding his torso. It was a wonder Donovan hadn't bled out, and Eddy couldn't remember how he had managed to keep his composure when his hands were coated in his friend's blood as he searched for the burst artery. Somehow, he had managed to, but now it was all catching up to him with a vengeance.

He wanted to be joyful that they would both live, both recover… but when the strangled sob left his lips, he could only bury his face in his hands in search of some form of comfort. He sat like that for a few seconds and then almost leapt out of his skin when a hand found his shoulder. His head whipped around fast enough to cause whiplash – and then the next second his tears of grief turned into tears of joy at the concerned face looking back at him.

Donovan weakly returned his embrace and shakily wiped the tears from his friend's cheeks when he pulled away, his face etched in concern. It morphed into surprise and he pointed Eddy's attention to the doorway, and for the second time in that short span the doctor moved like lightning. This time, it was to the side of his other friend who came limping through the doorway, more than mortified that she was up at all. Her goal was to make it to where Eddy had sat a second before, and with his help she made it there without incident.

"How did we get here?" Donovan creakily asked of his friends when they had both settled, Eddy perched on the side of the bed wiping the remnants of his tears away and Tocarra on the crate.

"Jedi," Tocarra told him, her smile just as worn as his.

"Ahsoka?"

"Plus some others. They got the supply ship from that transport…"

Their friend let out a contemplative sound and then quirked an eyebrow, slowly raising one arm to study the bandages on it.

"What's under this? Doesn't feel normal."

"Tourvin root paste, it clots blood faster than anything else we had on hand," Eddy told him, the heavy darkness that had been pulling at him only minutes before much lighter at hearing both of his friends' voices. Donovan's bewildered expression made him grin.

"How did you know that?"

"I didn't. I umm….." he hesitated to answer, then looked down with a loose smile, "I had a little help."

Donovan turned to the other doctor in confusion, but her clear amusement wasn't helping him understand any more either.

"How did you manage this with one arm?"

"It wasn't me, I was out cold," she told him, and suddenly her attention turned back to her ex-apprentice who met the warm gaze shyly.

"Who then?"

"A very dear friend," the answer came, and when Eddy tucked his head down with a smiling huff and their boss reached out to pat his knee, the proverbial lightbulb clicked on above Donovan's head.

"Djibourdi?"

Both of his friends spared him a smile.

"He's here? And Ahsoka? Where are they, I want to –"

He had moved to prop himself up but neither doctor was having it, and he was quickly pressed back into the mattress.

"Whoa Donny, hang on," Eddy scolded, "Yes, they're both here but they're also both out cold right now – like you probably should still be."

"Are they alright?"

"They're fine. Worn out, but fine… those things that attacked you both decided that they wanted to pick a fight with the Jedi. You can imagine how that worked out for them. Kind of ironic how things have come full-circle, wasn't long ago we were looking after them."

All three of them shared a humorless, sobering laugh, the dense feeling of uncertainty leaking back into the air between them. They all felt the same sensation of horror and fear that moved to lay over them, clouding their eyes and rushing anxiety back into their chests.

"What are they?" Donovan asked first, and both of his companions shook their heads in loss.

"I asked Anakin… he didn't really give a lot of answers. I'm starting to think that Tombur," he paused, then added context for Donovan, "Djibourdi's master, he might be the only one who really knows everything about what they are. He and Dji killed the ones that came here but now they're both knocked out."

"They were merciless," Tocarra spoke to no one through her swollen split lip, eyes staring far off into the distance as her mind replayed the scenes of death repeatedly to her, "They killed everyone…even the younglings…"

She was the most hard-nosed among them, but it became clear after a moment that this was too much for even her – and without hesitation Eddy was off the bed and by her side, letting her face fall onto his shoulder as she cried. His eyes found Donovan's, and that feeling of despair growled back in between them. They had no control over what was happening around them and suddenly, despite the safety net they found themselves in surrounded by clones and Jedi and blasters and walls, they felt so exposed. The Togruta were no longer predators – they were prey.

As the soft rain began to patter down on the tarped roof above them the three Togruta sat silently in mourning and fear, Donovan's hand linked to one of Eddy's and Eddy's other linked to Tocarra's, while the two sets of eyes – one on the mountain and one in the forest – stared through the walls and watched their grief.

There was a shift as the light thunder rumbled, the energy of the Living Force trembling as one pair of eyes turned away… marking the decision of the guardian that balanced life and death.

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There it is, my friends. I hope you enjoyed it.

Happy Writing,

Eliana