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Chapter 3

Awaken

It was a struggle out of darkness. The Force was coiled around him like sawtooth wire. That wasn't something the non-sensitive understood. The Force was heavier, more metallic, than most knew. Denying its pull took ceaseless will.

Obi-Wan groaned as he broke from sleep. A man and woman appeared over him.

The man was of average stature, looking twenty-five or thirty. His earnest, stubbled face was scraped in places. Bright blue eyes, dulled by fatigue, regarded Obi-Wan kindly.

"Hello," he said gently, in a Coruscanti accent much thicker than Obi-Wan's. "Go slow, mate. Your body took quite a shock."

Obi-Wan squinted against the light. Dim as it was, it felt like knives. "Who are you?" he mumbled.

The man offered his palm. "I'm Miler Crata…" he said, withdrawing his hand when Obi-Wan didn't shake it. "I'm a—ah—lieutenant with the 301st."

"The 301st," Obi-Wan registered. "That was Saesee Tiin's legion."

"Yeah, that's right. Hell o'a pilot, that one. Though it scared me t'meet him. Horns an' all."

Obi-Wan nodded without attention. He leaned forward, struggling to sit.

Miler helped him but admonished: "Don't push it too hard. I didn't have much bacta."

For the first time, Obi-Wan's muddled mind recalled the events on Grievous' ship. "Padme!" he croaked, shrugging off Miler's hand.

Miler grabbed his shoulders while the woman calmed him. "It's okay," she promised. "She's all right. She's resting in the next room."

Obi-Wan settled, heaving a sigh. The woman's soft, round face reminded him of his mother's.

"My name is Leona Voll. You're here in my apartment. And you're safe for the time being."

"She's an old friend'a my sister's," said Miler. "I was sent here t'do reconnaissance. My scout ship was shot down on the edge of Quiren City. I s'pose I was fortunate. With the Sith in control, no one but Leona would take in a Republic soldier."

Obi-Wan rubbed one temple. "Fortune is not random."

"Wha'do ya mean?"

"The Force brought us here for a reason."

"What reason's that?"

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed cryptically. "It remains to be seen." He braced his hands on his knees to push up to his feet. They steadied him when he swayed. "Can you take me to Padme, please?"

They led him down the hall to another room. It looked like a guest bedroom. The walls were bare but for mismatched art.

Padme lay on a bed, covered in blue sheets. His eyes were drawn to a gash below her hairline.

The mattress sank from his weight. He inspected her cut, which wasn't properly treated. He skimmed it with his finger, remembering something she said once. Her greatest fear was disfigurement. She'd seen her sister burned in a fire.

Without treatment, the wound was at major risk of infection.

"You're certain you've no bacta?" Obi-Wan asked Leona.

"No, I'm sorry. I cleaned the wound as best I could."

Obi-Wan smiled contritely. "We are both in your debt."

"I am no friend to the Sith. I only wish I could do more."

A familiar droid forced his way into the group. "R2!" Obi-Wan laughed. The droid shared his relief, reminding Obi-Wan why he never wiped his memory.

Miler said, "He took a beating, but he came through all right."

"How did you find us?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Your escape pod crashed not far from here. We heard the commotion, so I went to check it out. When I saw it was you, I knew I had t'help."

"You recognized me?"

"Of course. I see ya in briefings all the time. You're one of our greatest warriors, Gen'ral."

"Let's not stray into hyperbole," Obi-Wan replied, rising from the mattress. He looked down at Padme. "Is there a medical center around here, or a supply store?"

Leona shook her head. "If you're looking for bacta, you won't find any. The Sith are controlling its distribution."

"Surely something's slipped through the cracks," Obi-Wan pressed, "or was hidden away before the Sith took over."

Miler opened his mouth, but Leona cut him off: "Don't. It's not a good idea."

"If the Gen'ral requires it—"

"—You'll only get yourselves killed—"

"—Don't be dramatic. We'll just have to—"

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

Miler ignored Leona's glare. "There are… unofficial channels on Sarna. You can find many things that aren't meant to be found."

Obi-Wan asked, "Where we do find this 'unofficial' market?"

"In the corporate office of scum and outlaws," Miler smirked. "The cantina."

"Is it far?"

"Just a few blocks."

Leona's stony face softened with concern. "These are bad people. They bring unwanted attention. They'll kill you without a thought. I know you're worried about your friend, but this is a big risk."

Obi-Wan glanced off. Padme's peril was real; the gash needed treatment. But venturing into public could put all of them in jeopardy. He looked down at Padme again. She was heartbreakingly peaceful.

His eyes set in determination. "We'll be careful."

"I should go alone," said Miler. "One'a the Sith might recognize ya."

"The common soldier won't know what I look like."

Miler sighed. "Ya should at leas' change. They've seen plenty'a Jedi robes."

Obi-Wan turned to a beeping R2. "Sorry, little one. You'll have to stay here." This didn't sit well with his companion. "I'll be fine, R2. Honestly, you make it sound like I can't put my boots on without you."

The droid left in a huff, like a teenaged Anakin.

Obi-Wan's stomach tightened at the thought of his apprentice. He forced the feeling into a tightly locked box to be dealt with later. He seemed to be doing a lot of that.

"Let's get to it," he told Miler.