NaNoWriMo 2007, 4/6
Obi-Wan hovered over Anakin anxiously, monitoring his vital signs in the small medbay of the ship. He had kept him mostly unconscious for a few days now, only rousing him to make him eat a couple of times a day. Quin said that he was worrying too much, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but blame himself for Anakin’s mishap, and he was taking care of him to try to make it up to him.
Niko the ysalamir was curled up on Anakin’s chest, also snoozing. The ysalamir’s presence made him uneasy, but he knew that it was doing Anakin good. Before they’d taken it onboard, the boy’s dreams had caused him to radiate distress through the Force nearly every night. He didn’t know if it helped calm Anakin’s rest at all, but it at least kept him from affecting everybody else on board. Obi-Wan reached out, stroking the reptile’s scaly skin. It shifted slightly, but remained asleep, its claws tightly gripping the branch they had found it with. Obi-Wan had always had a certain fondness for small animals, one that his Master had never quite understood. Qui-Gon preferred plants, and he hadn’t much appreciated Obi-Wan’s small, herbivorous friends, particularly when they got into his room and gnawed on the trailing vines of the plants he kept.
Quin walked into the medbay, stopping at the door. He leaned on the doorframe, watching Obi-Wan pet the ysalamir. “We’re almost to Cyphar,” he said. “A couple of hours at the most, I think. Have you given any thought to finding a doctor?”
Obi-Wan looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“We’re in Republic space now, Obi-Wan. We can’t just stroll in wherever we want. In case you’d forgotten, doctors here are required to do blood tests. So we have to find an unlicensed medic without appearing too suspicious about it, unless you want to get the Midichlorian Wonder here captured by the Sith.” Quin was referring to the blood test Obi-Wan had performed shortly after Anakin’s injury, which had revealed a startling number of midichlorians in the boy’s bloodstream.
He frowned. “Master Saa said something like that, just before she transformed. She said that I couldn’t let the Sith have him, and then she called him something strange…the son of the sun? I have no clue what that meant.”
“Maybe it was a deathbed prophecy.” Quin shrugged. “That happens to Jedi sometimes. Becoming one with the Force allows them to see the path the future will take more clearly, or some load of bantha shit like that. It’s not really a philosophy I happen to subscribe to.”
“You don’t subscribe to a lot of the Jedi philosophies.”
“I don’t know if you’d noticed, Obi-Wan,” Quin said dryly, “but I’m not really a very good Jedi. It’s a good thing that you have a wide enough rule-abiding streak for the both of us. Force only knows how that managed to happen after spending years under Qui-Gon’s bad influence.”
“Pure dumb luck.” Obi-Wan looked at Anakin again. “I’m going to have to let this wear off before we land, aren’t I?”
“I’m not carrying him again, Obi-Wan. And we’re leaving the damn lizard on the ship.” He shuddered. “I hate that thing. I have no idea how you can even stand to be around it for an extended period of time. It’s giving me the creeps just from here.”
“It’s in your imagination. Its Force-neutralizing radius stops short of the door, Quin. Just one ysalamir doesn’t neutralize that much. You have to put them together to multiply the effect exponentially.”
“All right, all right, but you’d better not get any more of the things.” Quin turned to leave. “I’d better go monitor transmissions now. We’re close enough to being in Cyphar airspace that they might start trying to comm us.”
Quin went back to the bridge, leaving Obi-Wan alone with his thoughts again. He wondered what T’ra had meant with her cryptic prophecy, if it even was a prophecy. Who was the sun supposed to be? Anakin had such a high midichlorian count that he couldn’t think of any Jedi in recorded history with similar powers, particularly none with such a cryptic nickname. Master Yoda was the only one to even come close, and the thought of Master Yoda fathering anyone was both slightly disturbing and preposterous.
He shook his head. Maybe he was trying to interpret things too literally. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this - or else Master Saa had just been hallucinating in her pain, which was also entirely possible. But Obi-Wan knew better than to discard a prophecy like that. Qui-Gon would have scoffed at him and told him to pay more attention to the Living Force, but Obi-Wan felt that prophecies had an important place in interpreting the future, too. Not many Jedi had the gift of true prophecy, but it was found more often in those of great age - like Master Saa. They had gained the clarity to view the Force without the clouds that usually fogged it.
Obi-Wan leaned over and picked up Niko, ignoring the goosebumps that prickled on his skin. The ysalamir let out a grumble of protest, rearranging itself in Obi-Wan’s arms.
“Sorry,” he told it, “but I need to work on Anakin, and you’re just in the way.” He carefully took it into the passenger quarters, setting it down on the small nest of leaves and branches he had made for it in Anakin’s cabin, then returned to the medbay.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeling the drugs in Anakin’s bloodstream, slowly filtering them out. He wasn’t very good at this; healing never had been a particular specialty of his, and normally, he couldn’t do much more than heal minor cuts and bruises. A slight meditative trance like this allowed him to focus his powers more.
Anakin stirred a bit as the medication slowly left his system. He was still asleep, but it was a natural sleep, rather than a drug-assisted one. “Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook him gently, hoping his natural reaction to being woken up didn’t involve lashing out with the Force.
“Mmmmph.” Anakin rolled over onto his side. “Ow!” He sat up, looking confused.
“Force, Anakin, I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan realized he must have accidentally drained the painkillers out of his body as well. “Here.” He pressed the popper against his skin, injecting more painkillers. “Is that better?”
Anakin closed his eyes for a moment, clutching his arm tightly until the painkiller took effect and the pain slowly receded. “A little better.” He blinked, looking confused. “What’s going on?”
“We’re about to land on Cyphar,” Obi-Wan explained. “Hopefully, we can find a doctor there who will treat your wounds. We’ll have to buy you a prosthetic hand, too.”
“A mechanical hand?” Anakin looked intrigued; Obi-Wan was willing to bet that he was already planning modifications to it in his head.
He chuckled. “Yes, a mechanical hand.”
“One of the mechanics on the freighter I worked on had one of those. He did all sorts of things to it to make it work better. I helped him take it apart once so he could do maintenance on it.” Anakin seemed to be feeling better already; Obi-Wan was glad that the slightly soporific effects of the painkiller hadn’t kicked in yet. It would make it easier to get Anakin up and about once they landed.
“Where’s the lizard at?” Anakin looked around. “I remembered a lizard. Was I imagining it?”
“No, that’s Niko, the ysalamir I got on Lorta.”
“It made me feel funny inside.” Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Everything was all quiet.”
Had he been hearing voices? Obi-Wan couldn’t remember Anakin mentioning it previously. Maybe his apparent madness really was more than just a lack of control over his Force powers. “Ysalamiri create a bubble of Force-neutrality around themselves,” he explained. “They evolved it as a defense to Force-sensitive vornskrs on their homeworld of Myrkr. It makes them very effective for catching Jedi in a trap, because we’re all used to feeling the Force around us, so we get somewhat disoriented when it’s gone. I thought it might help you because your lack of control with the Force is what’s causing your problems.”
“Oh.” Anakin looked confused. “Okay. I’m not really sure what’s going on, Obi-Wan.”
“It’s all right, Anakin. You’ll understand eventually.”
“I hope so.” He curled up on the bed again, staring mournfully at his stump. “It looks so weird.” He glanced up at Obi-Wan. “Why can’t I meditate?”
“Give it time, Anakin. Jedi are taught to meditate from a very young age. You’ve come to it late. You just have to develop patience.”
“But there are things in my head, Obi-Wan. They won’t go away.”
Obi-Wan looked concerned. “What kinds of things?”
“Like…dreams. Bad ones. People are yelling at me and dying and somehow it’s all my fault. Everything’s my fault.” Anakin clutched his head with his hand. “It’s not my fault, is it?”
“Of course not, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, hoping he sounded reassuring. He wasn’t sure if Anakin was having visions of the future, altered memories of the past, or something else entirely, but either way, it didn’t sound good for his sanity. He felt the slightly jarring motion of the ship coming in contact with solid ground. “Come on, we’ve landed.” He reached out and touched Anakin’s shoulder. “We need to get you to someone who knows more about medicine than I do.”
Anakin pulled away from the touch, looking up at Obi-Wan with wide, fear-filled eyes. He blinked, shaking his head rapidly. “Okay, I’m ready.” He stood up cautiously, a bit wobbly on his feet.
Obi-Wan worried about the flinch, but put it to the back of his mind. “Would you like a cloak or…something to hide your arm?”
“No, I’m fine.” Anakin frowned. “Do you want me to hide it?”
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse. I can handle it.” Obi-Wan looked down at the stump, still feeling a twinge of guilt for what had happened. He led Anakin out of the medbay and through the corridors of the ship, meeting up with Quin on the ramp.
“Where do you suggest we start looking?” Quin asked Obi-Wan.
“I’d prefer somewhere that would require minimal bribes, personally. We could just start looking aimlessly.”
Quin lowered his voice. “Or we could let the Force guide us.” He laughed harshly. “As if that’s ever done anything.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “You might be a skeptic, but it does work, Quin. Surely you haven’t forgotten everything since we left.”
“Forgotten? No. I just doubt it more and more as time goes on, and everything we were taught is proven wrong.”
He sighed. “Let’s just try the cantina, all right? I don’t particularly want to get into another philosophical debate right now.” Obi-Wan looked around for some sort of sign of the spaceport staple. A faded sign on the wall informed them that they were now in the main spaceport of Cyphar, and arrows conveniently pointed the way to customs, the commercial sector of the spaceport, and the entertainment sector. Obi-Wan glanced at the direction of the latter. “That way?”
Quin shrugged, obviously in another one of his sulky moods. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Obi-Wan sighed. Quin, he knew, wasn’t going to be good for much on this expedition, and Anakin was already starting to look nervous at the increased numbers of lifeforms around them. Glancing at Anakin worriedly, he started leading the small group through the winding corridors of the spaceport.
By the time they arrived at the cantina, Anakin looked exceptionally pale and withdrawn, and Obi-Wan could have sworn he was actually trembling. “Do you feel all right?” Obi-Wan asked him quietly. “Is your arm bothering you?”
Anakin simply shook his head, leaving Obi-Wan to guess at what he really meant. He didn’t think that the missing arm would be giving him that much trouble, but, then again, he didn’t have much experience with amputated limbs. His medical training had been limited to the basic first aid course given to all Jedi Padawans. Sighing, he sidled up to the bar, ordering a Tatooine Sunrise. He figured that by the end of the day, he would have earned a good, stiff drink.
The bartender looked past Obi-Wan at Anakin and Quin. “You with them?” he asked.
Obi-Wan nodded, sniffing his drink before tossing it back.
“Looks like your young friend needs some help loosening up. I’ve got some nice Corellian brandy that’d do the trick.”
He held his glass out for a refill. “That’s not the problem. He needs to see a doctor.”
“He just looks inexperienced to me.” The bartender mixed the drink expertly, shaking it rapidly to get the right color gradient.
“No, no, he definitely needs a doctor. He had a bit of a…messy forced amputation.” Obi-Wan leaned in towards the bar, fumbling in his pocket for one of their credit chips. He placed it flat on the bar, sliding it across to the bartender. “Would you happen to know where we could find one that does work a bit…under the table?” Taking his drink, he watched the bartender for his reaction.
“Aye, there’s one down next to the Naboo Lily.” He picked up the credit chip, examining it with an expert eye. “Does work for the girls there. Dunno how much she can help your friend, but that’s the only one I know of…unless you’ve got more cash, that is.”
Obi-Wan swallowed the second drink, setting the glass back down on the bar. “Thank you for your help. We’ll come back if we need more assistance - or Corellian brandy, I suppose.”
Quin snorted derisively as they headed out the door. “A brothel medic? I’m sure she’ll be qualified to deal with missing arms.”
“What’s a brothel?” Anakin asked.
Obi-Wan flushed bright red. Surely the boy was old enough to know about the facts of life by now, he thought. Not to mention that he’d served on a freighter…there was no way he could have remained painfully naïve for so long.
Quin rolled his eyes at Obi-Wan. “It’s a place where people go to have their needs serviced,” he explained.
“Oh, like a place where you can eat and rest and bathe? That’s nice.”
“Not those needs, Anakin.”
Obi-Wan wondered how explicitly Quin would have to spell it out before Anakin got what he was referring to; though the Jedi typically frowned on sex because it led to emotional attachments, they were still educated about the basics and told how to prevent the less favorable side effects of sex. Quin, he knew, had learned about sex hands-on at an early age, and had considered it his personal responsibility to educate his friends, including Obi-Wan.
“Freshers, then?” Anakin looked distinctly confused as they crossed over into what had to be the territory of the brothels. Gaudily-dressed women - and a few young boys - winked at them, gesturing lewdly at the trio. Quin winked right back at them; he was just as shameless as most prostitutes when it came right down to it.
“There’s the Naboo Lily,” Obi-Wan interrupted, pointing to the large building, decorated in deep blue and silver. “I’m guessing we want the place on the right.” He indicated a very small, unlabeled building next to it.
“Looks more like a secret bondage dungeon than a doctor’s office,” Quin muttered under his breath. He walked over to the door, pressing the buzzer next to it. The door slid open, and Obi-Wan and Quin walked in, Anakin trailing behind.
Though the room was small, it was immaculately clean and painted sparkling white. It looked like every other waiting room Obi-Wan had ever been in, just on a smaller scale. A nondescript plant with long, trailing vines sat on a small table, and two empty chairs were on either side of the table. At the other end of the room was a rickety-looking desk with a young woman sitting behind it. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into a strict bun, a few wisps escaping to frame her face. Her skin was a few shades lighter than the glossy green leaves of the plant, and a pattern of interlocking diamond tattoos crossed the bridge of her nose, marking her cheeks. She looked up at them, smiling.
“Can I help you?” she asked, setting her datareader down.
“We’re here to see the doctor,” Obi-Wan told her. “Can you let her know we’re here?”
She chuckled. “I’m hardly a doctor. A medic, maybe, but I’m not going to falsely bill myself as a doctor. I can probably help you, though. What do you need?”
Quin butted in. “No, we’d rather see the doctor.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, if you don’t like it, then leave. But if you’re here, then you need something done that’s…less than legal. And I’ll do better and safer than the other people who’ll charge you more.” She stood up, offering them her hand. “I’m Barriss.”
Obi-Wan shook her hand. “Ignore my friend. He likes to be belligerent sometimes. Or, well, most of the time. He isn’t that bad, though.”
Barriss shrugged. “I get that sort of thing a lot. It’s why I work down here. Most of the prostitutes don’t really care how old I am, just as long as I’m discreet and I can do what they want me to do. So, what do you need?”
Obi-Wan gestured to Anakin. “He needs a prosthetic arm.”
“Mmm, all right. Follow me.” Barriss went through the door to the right of her desk, leading them into her examination room. “Get on the table,” she said to Anakin.
Anakin glanced nervously at Obi-Wan, but sat down on the examination table.
“Do you have the prosthesis?” She pulled out an assortment of straps, fastening them around Anakin’s torso and legs. “If not, one of you needs to go buy one.” She snorted. “Good luck finding a decent one here.”
Obi-Wan and Quin exchanged looks for a moment. “I’ll go buy one,” Obi-Wan said finally. He edged out of the room, leaving Barriss, Anakin, and Quin alone.
Barriss continued bustling around Anakin, seemingly oblivious to Quin’s hostility. “I’m going to have to knock you out, okay?” she said to Anakin, pulling out a hypodermic needle. “I’m sorry for the ancient equipment. It’s hard to find good, up-to-date equipment out here.” She plunged the needle into a small vial, watching carefully as she drew the anaesthetic into the syringe. Taking Anakin’s good arm, she rubbed the skin vigorously until she found a vein. Anakin hissed in surprise as she plunged the needle in.
Quin frowned, staring at Barriss. He could sense something was strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Barriss watched Anakin, monitoring his pulse with a pair of fingers as he gradually lost consciousness. “He needs to eat more,” she observed. “He’s almost certainly underweight, and possibly malnourished.” Taking Anakin’s other arm, she examined the stump with a critical eye. “Nicely severed and cauterized. That’s a problem for prosthetics, though. You need live nerve ends for the neural net of the prosthesis to bond to.” She frowned. “I’m going to have to cut off the dead tissue. That’s why I knocked him out.”
“We had to cauterize it to keep him from bleeding out,” Quin lied.
She glanced up at him for a moment. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I know what a lightsaber wound looks like.”
“You can’t possibly get many of them out here,” he protested, pulling in one of the chairs from the waiting room.
“No, I mostly get a wide assortment of sexually transmitted diseases.” She blushed, her skin turning a dark blue-green. “Well, I mean, I don’t get them, I see people with them.”
Quin chuckled. “Nah, you’re a little young to actually have them. How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.” She poked at the end of Anakin’s arm.
“And you really know what you’re doing?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. “Of course, it’s been years since I’ve done a prosthesis, and I’ve never done it on my own before, but I think I can manage.”
“Years? Force, how old were you when you started your schooling?”
“Nine, or thereabouts.” She looked up at him, frowning. “How dense are you, anyway? Force, I knew who you were the moment you walked in the door. I don’t expect you to know me, but you should have at least realized what I am by now. And I’m assuming that you came to me because you wanted someone who wouldn’t do a midichlorian test on his blood.” She paused for a moment. “He wasn’t in the Temple, was he? He looks like he’s my age, but I’ve never seen him before.”
“What, you survived the massacre? You must’ve been…”
“Thirteen.” Barriss set her scalpel down in a tray. “I was thirteen years old, and I spent the night covered in blood, trying my best to keep the last few remnants of the Order alive.” She looked him in the eyes. “And where were you then, Quinlan Vos? My Master was slaughtered in the crèche, trying to protect the Younglings. The Council was eliminated, one by one. Have you ever been in the Council Chambers at sunset?” She swallowed hard, her eyes glittering with tears. “Master Gallia died at sunset. The rays of sunlight turned everything as red as her blood.”
“How did you make it out?”
“I hid in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, in the rock formations behind the big waterfall. I concentrated and hoped that they wouldn’t find me. I’m not sure how it happened, but I escaped their notice. Probably because there weren’t enough of them to check the Temple thoroughly. They were concentrating on the Masters and the Younglings. Nobody cared about a Padawan like me. After they left, Master Allie, Master Saa, a couple other trainee Healers, and I went through and tried to save whoever we could…and we helped anybody who was too far gone to save.” She sighed. “I passed out in the Council Chambers. I hadn’t been paying enough attention, and I overworked myself - I almost died. Master Allie snuck me offplanet with her. I was mostly unconscious then, so I don’t know how she did it. I don’t know how anybody escaped, really…but they did.” Barriss took a deep, shuddering breath. “I dream about it all the time. I think everybody does. Sometimes, I see the faces of the dead when I meditate, pleading for me to save them. If I’d just known a little more, maybe I could have.”
“Obi-Wan and I were on Klatooine when we heard about it,” Quin offered. “He wanted to go back and see if we could help somehow. I said that we’d done more than enough to help the Order already. Force, we practically caused it all by running away from the Jedi.”
She nodded slowly. “Master Tholme said that it wasn’t your fault. He said that something like this had been coming, that the Sith had been planning this for millennia, and they were going to exterminate the Jedi no matter what. If that hadn’t been the catalyst, it would have been something else. Some other war, some other set of lies. Palpatine was a master trickster. He fooled the Jedi, after all. He fooled the entire Republic. He had them eating out of his hand, and all along, nobody ever realized that someone like him could possibly be a Sith.”
Quin fixated on the first part of what she had said. “Tholme survived? Really? Force, that’s good to hear. He was my Master.”
“He was off-planet at the time. They hadn’t really come up with a good way to take care of the ones who weren’t on Coruscant, so those Jedi gained a brief reprieve, until they could spare a few people to hunt them down like dogs. Those of us who remain did so through sheer dumb luck. The Sith didn’t spare any expense. They found the survivors and took them out ruthlessly. Sometimes, they would drag them back to Coruscant and finish them there. Darth Maul does that a lot. So does Komari Vosa.” She made a face as if she was going to spit on the ground, then she thought better of it. “Vosa killed my Master. She disarmed her and wounded her, then slaughtered the Younglings and made her watch before she ended it.”
“Komari cut Anakin’s arm off when we dueled her. She tried to take him hostage, but he struggled. She lost her hand, too.”
Obi-Wan burst into the room, a slightly rusty-looking mechanical arm in one hand. “Sorry it took me so long.” He surveyed their faces, noticing that Barriss was near tears. “Did I miss something?”
Barriss scrubbed her eyes with the back of her forearm, then stood up, taking the prosthesis from him. She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, this looks sanitary. Did anybody tell you that you shouldn’t buy prosthetics used?” Poking at the plastic that covered the end of it, she peered inside the framework. “Well, it looks clean enough. I’ll just put it in the flash sterilizer while I do the rest of the procedure and hope that works.” She crossed the room, placing the arm inside a small box-like device and pressing a few buttons. It let out a mechanical hum and lit up, emitting a bright glow. Grabbing her stool, Barriss sat down next to Anakin, picking up his arm again. “I hope neither of you are squeamish,” she said. “If you are, you might want to leave the room. And please don’t say anything while I’m working, because some of it is very delicate work.” She exchanged her pair of rubber gloves for a fresh set, picked up the vibroscalpel, and went to work.
Obi-Wan brought the second chair from the waiting room in, sitting down next to Quin. He watched Barriss as she worked deftly, slicing away the layers of cauterized tissue with her scalpel, then using a small laser to seal the main veins and arteries in the arm and stop the bleeding. From time to time, she would pause for a moment to swab the uncovered flesh with bacta gel, trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Despite her best efforts, the part of the examining table beneath Anakin was soon soaked in blood, as were the cuffs of the sleeves of her white lab coat. Beads of sweat grew on her face as she tried to staunch the flow of blood. Grabbing a strip of rubber, she tied it tightly on Anakin’s upper arm, creating a makeshift tourniquet.
As he watched, Obi-Wan was surprised to feel a shift in the flow of the Force in the room. He concentrated for a moment, trying to feel where it was going. The trail led back to Barriss, who was fairly glowing with Force-energy as she focused all of her healing efforts on Anakin. At the moment, she was using her power to slow Anakin’s heart down and, therefore, decrease the movement of blood; at the same time, she was manipulating her small laser to shave the bone in the stump down to the level of the tissue, removing the dead cells there as well.
Finally, she completed the first portion of her task, applying even more bacta gel in order to cease the bleeding and encourage healing of the tissue. Using the Force, she opened the flash sterilizer and removed the prosthesis, floating the mechanical arm over to the operating table. She fitted the limb over the stump, carefully aligning it, then directed her Force powers to the synthetic neural net within the prosthesis, encouraging it to bond with Anakin’s already-existing nerve cells and tissue. This was normally a long and arduous process that took some time in rehabilitation, oftentimes resulting in the rejection of the limb by the host body, but the Force was used to successfully speed it up. Barriss used the last of her rapidly waning energy to finish healing Anakin’s arm, then slumped down on her stool, nearly collapsing. Quin used the Force to prop her up, earning him a weary, but grateful smile from the young Mirialan.
“Force,” she said finally, breaking the long period of silence in the room. “I really haven’t done anything like that in a long time.” She frowned. “I nearly botched it all. I’m sorry.” Barriss peeled her bloodstained gloves off, throwing them in the trash receptacle.
“You did a better job than we could have,” Obi-Wan reassured her. He wanted to ask about her use of the Force, but decided that now probably wasn’t the best time.
“Yeah, but he still lost way too much blood.” Barriss shook her head. “And I don’t even know what blood type he is, in case I need to do an emergency transfusion. I don’t even have any blood on hand, actually, so I’d have to find out his blood type and hope that one of you has a compatible type.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’m really not ready to be working on my own.”
Anakin tossed and turned behind her, pulling at his restraints. Obi-Wan could feel his growing restlessness in the Force. “You…might want to wake him up now.”
Barriss winced. “I don’t have enough energy left to drain the general anaesthetic from his system. He’s going into a natural sleep now. I’m assuming that’s bad?”
“He can’t control the Force,” Quin interjected. “You figure it out.”
“Quin!” Obi-Wan hissed.
“Obi-Wan, you dolt, she’s harmless,” Quin muttered to his friend. “I’ll explain later.”
She sighed. “I really can’t do anything. Don’t you have any way to take care of him? What have you been doing? How long has he been with you, anyway?”
“A couple of weeks?” Quin guessed. “Not long. And we don’t know very much about him.”
“That’s…irresponsible of you,” Barriss muttered, just barely loud enough for the two to hear. She bent over Anakin, examining him with the Force. “Who the hell takes in an underfed teenager who can’t control his considerable amount of power?”
“Oh? And what would you have done?” Obi-Wan asked, stung by her criticism.
“Not that.” She frowned. “Not unless he was in a situation where he really needed to be rescued. Of course, I hardly have the resources to feed and house a foundling.” Lifting up his shirt, she pulled out a stethoscope and pressed it against his chest, listening to his breathing. “Force, look how bony he is!” She prodded his ribs. “Have you been feeding him?”
“As much as he’ll eat. He’s a light eater, though, and sometimes he forgets to eat because he’s caught up in something else.”
“Mmm.” She looked at Obi-Wan. “I’m coming with you.”
“What? You can’t-“
“Why not? You obviously need someone who’s more qualified than you are to look after him.”
Obi-Wan frowned at her. “I’m completely qualified. Besides, you don’t have any sort of certification.”
“No, but I have seven years of training under a Jedi Healer. You aren’t going to find anyone more experienced.”
Quin interrupted. “Look, I don’t think you understand. We’re bounty hunters. We don’t just fly around the galaxy for fun. We actually do work.”
“And I’m going to be more in the way than he is? I doubt that.” She pressed a button on her examination table, releasing a secret compartment. She removed a lightsaber hilt from the compartment and showed it to the two men. “I do know how to use this, and I can use a blaster if I have to. Not to mention that I know several ways to disarm someone completely with the Force.” She grinned. “Besides, you owe me payment, and I happen to need a ride to Kinyen.”
“Kinyen? That’s a bit out of our way. We’re trying to stay away from the Sith, not land on their doorstep,” Quin pointed out. “I think I’d rather give you the credits.”
Barriss folded her arms over her chest. “I also think that you should accompany me there for other reasons. The Resistance headquarters are there.”
“Oh, no, we are not getting ourselves tangled up with your damn resistance,” Quin insisted, glaring at her.
“Why not? You said you wished you could have helped the Jedi during the massacre. Now’s your chance to give something back.”
“I said that Obi-Wan wanted to help. Quite honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. They brought it upon themselves.”
Barriss swallowed, tears sparkling in her eyes. “They did not, and you know it. I was thirteen. What did I do to deserve Sith trying to kill me and everybody I knew? Force, what did the infants do to deserve lightsabers driven through their skulls? What did any of us do to deserve to be hunted down and slaughtered one by one?” She sniffled. “The Jedi were just trying to bring peace and justice to the galaxy.”
“The Jedi,” Quin said slowly, “were a bunch of pompous asses who had grown more pompous and more out of touch with the common people as the millennia went on. Look, Barriss, the massacre was a tragedy, but that’s how things work. When the dominant lifeform grows weak, another kills it and takes its place. Eventually, the Jedi will return when the Sith grow weak.”
“And meanwhile, you’re content to just let the Sith run wild.” She snorted. “Because it doesn’t affect you, right?”
“Right. I’m done playing the hero, Barriss. It only causes pain.”
“Doing nothing will cause more pain in the end,” she insisted.
“Not for me.”
“With that kind of an attitude, it’s easy to see why you ran away from the Order as soon as you could. If I was your Master, I would’ve kicked you out myself.” Barriss glared at him. “And what about you?” she asked Obi-Wan. “What’s your pathetic, cowardly excuse?”
“Mine?” Obi-Wan shrugged. “I don’t have one. I do wish you would quit antagonizing Quin, though, and pay more attention to Anakin. Quin’s too easy to pick a fight with.”
Barriss set the lightsaber down, looking at Obi-Wan, then nodded slowly. “All right. I’m sorry I allowed myself to be distracted.” She rested a hand on Anakin’s chest. “He does seem to have calmed down a bit now, though, and I think he’ll probably wake up fairly shortly.”
“Do you mind if we use your waiting room to have a discussion while we wait?”
Barriss shook her head. “No, not at all. Go right ahead.”
Obi-Wan flashed her a warm smile. “Thank you.” He stood up and grabbed Quin’s arm, pulling him into the other room with him.
Barriss watched them leave, still keeping an eye on Anakin. Taking a wet cloth, she began cleaning up the dried blood on his arm, wiping off a little bit at a time. He started twitching when she was nearly finished, trying to pull away from her ministrations. “Shhh,” she whispered. “It’s all right. I’m just trying to take care of you.” She smoothed his hair back from his forehead with her free hand.
Anakin cracked one eye open, watching her. “What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.
Barriss jumped; she hadn’t been expecting him to respond. “I’m just, um, wiping some of the blood off. I’m almost done, though.”
“I’m Anakin,” he said. “What’s your name?”
She paused for a moment, flashing him a brief smile. “I’m Barriss.”
“Barriss? That’s a pretty name.” He looked down at his arm. “That looks weird.” Anakin frowned. “How does it work?”
“If I did it right, just like your other hand did.” She watched the prosthetic arm carefully.
He clenched his fingers experimentally, the servomotors in the arm whining in protest. “Sounds like they need to be oiled. Do you have any oil here?”
“No, I don’t.” She chuckled. “It’s not something that’s usually called for in my line of work.”
“Are you a medic? You look young.”
“I’m a Healer,” she said proudly.
“What’s a Healer do?” Anakin moved the fingers of his mechanical hand one by one, seemingly entranced by the movement.
“They’re…like medics, only they’re Jedi.”
He looked up at her again. “You’re a Jedi? Nuh-uh. Jedi are supposed to be older.”
She laughed, brushing a stray wisp of hair back from her face. “Jedi Knights are older. I’m still a Padawan - that’s an apprentice learner. Well, I was a Padawan. I’m…not really anything now.”
“Because there aren’t any more Jedi.” Anakin frowned. “Quin and Obi-Wan talk about that a lot.”
“Mmm. I imagine they do.”
“So do you have a lightsaber? Obi-Wan has two lightsabers, but he won’t let me use them yet.” Anakin grimaced. “He says that I have to learn control, and then I can use my lightsaber, and then I’ll be able to make my own lightsaber.”
Barriss nodded. “I do. I never got the opportunity to make my own, though. I use my Master’s old lightsaber, though I replaced the green crystal with a blue one.”
“What was it like, being a Jedi?”
“It’s…hard to explain to someone who’s not a Jedi. I grew up in the Temple. Most people would find that strange, but to me, that was home. I never had a family like normal people. I grew up with my agemates in the crèche. When I was older, I moved into the Initiates’ dormitory, so I shared a room with about fifteen other girls, and then I moved into Master Luminara’s quarters when she chose me as her Padawan. We spent most of our time in classes - they started us out with easy ones when we were about four years old, mostly meditation and lightsaber classes. We had to learn how to sense the Force and manipulate it, and that’s where meditation comes in. Have you been learning how to meditate?”
Anakin pulled a face, grimacing. “Yeah. I’m not good at it, though.” He paused, thinking. “Do you ever see things when you meditate?”
“Well, sometimes I visualize calming scenes to help me relax. Does that count?”
“No…I don’t see anything calm. It’s never calm in my head.” He gripped his head tightly, wincing as some hair caught in the joints of his prosthesis. “Lots of thoughts, lots of voices, all swirling around inside. That’s not what it’s like to be a Jedi?”
“No…” Barriss thought for a moment. “Obi-Wan needs to teach you shielding, I think.”
“Shielding?”
“It’s sort of…a way of blocking bad things out. Jedi are natural empaths - that means that they can sense others’ feelings. Some are stronger at it than others. Healers, for example, tend to be fairly strong empaths, and that means that they have to shield all the time, or else they pick up on thoughts and emotions that people broadcast. I bet you’re the exact same way, and he probably never even thought about the possibility.” She snorted. “Wouldn’t surprise me, anyway. He…doesn’t seem to be handling things well.”
“He thinks about a man a lot.”
Barriss laughed suddenly. “I’m really not surprised about that, either. What kind of man?”
“Dunno. He’s tall. Long, brown hair. It makes Obi-Wan sad.” Anakin frowned. “I don’t know how I know that, though. I think the voices told me.”
“Where are you from, Anakin?” Barriss asked, curious.
“Tatooine. Have you ever been there?”
“No, I haven’t. I’m from Mirial, but I’ve never been there, either.”
“Mirial? What’s it like there?”
“From what I’ve seen in holovids, it’s flat and snowy. Lots of tundra everywhere.”
“Snow?” Anakin looked interested. “I’ve never seen snow.”
“That’s right, Tatooine is a desert planet, isn’t it? Out in Hutt space? I remember learning about it.”
“Yeah…the Hutts control everything. I used to be owned by Gardulla the Hutt, till she lost me betting on the podraces. Well, me and my mom. Then Watto owned us…he wasn’t as rich as Gardulla, but he was nicer. We didn’t have to put up with her overseer pushing us around anymore. He was never very nice to me. I was only a little kid back then, though.”
“Wait, you were a slave?” Barriss frowned. “Did Obi-Wan and Quin rescue you from slavery?”
“No, I’ve been free for a few years now. Mister Lars bought me and my mom a little bit after Watto got hurt and freed us. Well, he just wanted her, but she wouldn’t leave me. We never got along, though. I fixed his droids and his moisture collectors and everything, but he never liked me. I don’t know why. His son was mean to me, too. He and his girlfriend would push me around and laugh at me and make fun of me whenever I made mistakes, but then I’d get mad, and things would start happening, and they’d get scared and run away. Anyway, he kicked me out, so I went to Anchorhead for a bit, but I got fired because people didn’t like being around me. Then I got a job on a freighter, and then Sabine found me, and I worked for her for awhile, and then Obi-Wan and Quin took me with them because I found their lightsabers.”
“Interesting.” Barriss thought about this for a moment. She wanted to ask him so many questions about his past, but she wasn’t sure what he would or wouldn’t tolerate, and she certainly didn’t want to provoke any bad memories.
“Your skin’s green,” Anakin observed. “Green with dots.”
She smiled. “Those are tattoos.” She ran a finger along the line of tattoos on her right cheek. “They symbolize deeds I’ve done to draw closer to the Force. It’s a Mirialan religious custom.”
“Can I touch them?”
“Of course. They don’t feel like anything, though.”
Anakin reached across with his good hand, stroking her tattoos with his fingertips. She closed her eyes for a moment and barely leaned into the touch.
“Feels just like normal skin.” Anakin sounded a little disappointed.
Barriss giggled. “I told you so.”
“Do you have any anywhere else?”
From anybody else, Barriss would have considered that flirting. From Anakin, she wasn’t so sure. Despite the fact that he was a teenage boy, she didn’t think that he was really the type to flirt, especially in such a blatant fashion. “No, I don’t. I’m too young to have many tattoos yet.”
“You should come with me and Obi-Wan and Quin,” Anakin decided. “I think you’d like it. Obi-Wan’s a really good cook. Quin’s…um, well, he’s Quin. I don’t think he likes anybody, really.”
“I noticed,” she said dryly. “He doesn’t seem to be too fond of me, either.”
“You can have the cabin across from mine.” Anakin grinned at her, and Barriss was a little surprised to find herself grinning back. His smile was a little infectious. All in all, he was a reasonably attractive boy, though Barriss wasn’t sure if he was her type or not. Something told her that he needed her help, though. Obi-Wan might have the situation under control for now, but she thought that Anakin needed more help than Obi-Wan believed he did - help best given by a trained Healer.
“Are the cabins very small?” she asked.
“Yeah, they’re pretty small. My first cabin aboard a freighter was smaller, and I shared it with two other guys.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like sharing a room, especially with other guys. They’re awfully weird. They laughed at me, too.” His voice grew more plaintive. “I don’t get why everybody always laughs at me.”
She shook her head. “People aren’t very nice sometimes.”
“Yeah…people aren’t very nice to me most of the time.” He sighed. “I had a few friends when I was growing up, but they all left me alone after I couldn’t podrace anymore. And then I moved out to the desert, and there was just Owen and Beru. My mom always wanted me to spend time with them so that I could have friends, but they didn’t like me. I really just wanted to work on my droid. I built my mom a protocol droid to help her out around the house, because I didn’t have a dad when I was growing up, and I was too small to really do anything. He was a pretty good droid. She kinda forgot about him once she got married, though. I tried to make him better, but I didn’t have any parts.”
“I had a few friends in the Temple. Not many, though. I spent most of my time studying. I had a lot of extra stuff to do once I started my Healing training, because that was in addition to my classes. I didn’t really have any time to hang out with people. I just…trained, studied, went to classes, and slept. I kind of wish I’d had more friends, but…they’d all be dead now, anyway.”
“Why are all the Jedi dead?” Anakin frowned. “I don’t get that.”
“Because the Sith raided the Temple about six years ago and killed them all. Well, not all of them, but most of them. The Sith are the Jedi’s enemies. Jedi serve the Light Side of the Force, and the Sith control the Dark Side.”
“What’s the difference?”
Barriss frowned, uncertain of how to answer Anakin’s question. It was something that most Jedi just…knew. They’d learned it almost unconsciously from being raised in the Temple and steeped in the Light Side. Some Jedi went bad, of course, but most of them remained on the Light Side. Everybody was tempted by the Dark Side, but few ever gave in. She had almost been tempted by the Dark Side after seeing the carnage at the Temple, but her own exhaustion had overwhelmed her desire for vengeance. After that, Master Allie had talked with her and helped her work through her dangerous feelings. “The Light Side is…”
“Overly sanctimonious and self-serving,” Quin answered for her. “Much like Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan frowned at him. “That’s a poor definition.”
“There is no Dark Side, and there’s no Light Side,” Quin said. “How’s that for a poor definition?”
“Rather contrary to the popular beliefs of both the Jedi and Sith, actually,” Barriss said. “That would be the Potentium view of the Force, correct?”
“I believe so. Anyway, it doesn’t depend on what the Force is like, it depends on who’s using it. In the wrong hands, it can be a weapon. Or the right hands, depending on what you think.” Quin shrugged. “It’s really just a matter of semantics.”
“I’m confused,” Anakin said.
Barriss sighed. “Get used to it. I have a feeling it’s going to be happening a lot with Quin around.”
Quin snorted. “Is that any way to treat your personal chauffeur?”
“Probably not, but you’d better get used to that, too.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I have a feeling that we’re going to be spending quite some time arguing those semantics.”
“Fantastic,” Quin drawled. “That’s the last time I ever let you talk me into taking pity on a poor, helpless girl, Obi-Wan.”
“No, usually you’re the one taking pity on them,” Obi-Wan pointed out.
“Ugh.” Barriss wrinkled her nose as she started to pack her medical equipment. “I think I’ll pass on that, thanks.”
“You’re too skinny and green for me, anyway. And too young, for that matter.”
Anakin poked at the insides of his mechanical arm, apparently ignoring the conversation. “I think Barriss is nice,” he offered randomly.
“Thank you, Anakin.” She shot a glare at Quin. “It’s nice to know that somebody does.”
“I never said you weren’t nice. I just said you were skinny and green.” Quin smirked at her. “You really aren’t nice, though.”
“Oh, good. If I’m not nice, that means I have a perfectly good reason to kick you in the balls.” Barriss disappeared into another small room. “I’ll be right back,” she called out.
A spring popped out of Anakin’s arm, ricocheting off the wall. “Whoops. Hope I didn’t need that one.”
Obi-Wan winced. “I hope so, too.”
“Don’t worry, Obi-Wan.” Anakin smiled beatifically at him. “Everything will be fine.”
“Yeah, Obi-Wan,” Quin added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’re headed right into the jaws of the rancor, but everything’s going to be just fine. I’m sure nobody will use your survivor’s guilt to rope us into doing anything marginally suicidal that we don’t want to do.”
“My survivor’s guilt?” Obi-Wan was momentarily distracted. “I’m hardly the only one with a case of that.”
“No, but you’re the one who can be manipulated by it.” Quin patted his blaster. “I just listen to myself. And occasionally you, if you’re lucky.”
Anakin scrabbled on the floor for the spring. “And me.”
“No, Anakin, I’m not going to listen to you.”
“Aw, Quin, are you sure?”
Barriss returned, a small black bag in one hand and a large knapsack slung on her back. “Huh? Did I miss something?”
“We were just all making fun of Quin,” Obi-Wan said. “Don’t worry.”
“Oh, good, I’m just in time.” She grinned at them. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
Anakin popped up with the spring. “Found it!”
Quin glanced at his partner. “I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
Niko the ysalamir was curled up on Anakin’s chest, also snoozing. The ysalamir’s presence made him uneasy, but he knew that it was doing Anakin good. Before they’d taken it onboard, the boy’s dreams had caused him to radiate distress through the Force nearly every night. He didn’t know if it helped calm Anakin’s rest at all, but it at least kept him from affecting everybody else on board. Obi-Wan reached out, stroking the reptile’s scaly skin. It shifted slightly, but remained asleep, its claws tightly gripping the branch they had found it with. Obi-Wan had always had a certain fondness for small animals, one that his Master had never quite understood. Qui-Gon preferred plants, and he hadn’t much appreciated Obi-Wan’s small, herbivorous friends, particularly when they got into his room and gnawed on the trailing vines of the plants he kept.
Quin walked into the medbay, stopping at the door. He leaned on the doorframe, watching Obi-Wan pet the ysalamir. “We’re almost to Cyphar,” he said. “A couple of hours at the most, I think. Have you given any thought to finding a doctor?”
Obi-Wan looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“We’re in Republic space now, Obi-Wan. We can’t just stroll in wherever we want. In case you’d forgotten, doctors here are required to do blood tests. So we have to find an unlicensed medic without appearing too suspicious about it, unless you want to get the Midichlorian Wonder here captured by the Sith.” Quin was referring to the blood test Obi-Wan had performed shortly after Anakin’s injury, which had revealed a startling number of midichlorians in the boy’s bloodstream.
He frowned. “Master Saa said something like that, just before she transformed. She said that I couldn’t let the Sith have him, and then she called him something strange…the son of the sun? I have no clue what that meant.”
“Maybe it was a deathbed prophecy.” Quin shrugged. “That happens to Jedi sometimes. Becoming one with the Force allows them to see the path the future will take more clearly, or some load of bantha shit like that. It’s not really a philosophy I happen to subscribe to.”
“You don’t subscribe to a lot of the Jedi philosophies.”
“I don’t know if you’d noticed, Obi-Wan,” Quin said dryly, “but I’m not really a very good Jedi. It’s a good thing that you have a wide enough rule-abiding streak for the both of us. Force only knows how that managed to happen after spending years under Qui-Gon’s bad influence.”
“Pure dumb luck.” Obi-Wan looked at Anakin again. “I’m going to have to let this wear off before we land, aren’t I?”
“I’m not carrying him again, Obi-Wan. And we’re leaving the damn lizard on the ship.” He shuddered. “I hate that thing. I have no idea how you can even stand to be around it for an extended period of time. It’s giving me the creeps just from here.”
“It’s in your imagination. Its Force-neutralizing radius stops short of the door, Quin. Just one ysalamir doesn’t neutralize that much. You have to put them together to multiply the effect exponentially.”
“All right, all right, but you’d better not get any more of the things.” Quin turned to leave. “I’d better go monitor transmissions now. We’re close enough to being in Cyphar airspace that they might start trying to comm us.”
Quin went back to the bridge, leaving Obi-Wan alone with his thoughts again. He wondered what T’ra had meant with her cryptic prophecy, if it even was a prophecy. Who was the sun supposed to be? Anakin had such a high midichlorian count that he couldn’t think of any Jedi in recorded history with similar powers, particularly none with such a cryptic nickname. Master Yoda was the only one to even come close, and the thought of Master Yoda fathering anyone was both slightly disturbing and preposterous.
He shook his head. Maybe he was trying to interpret things too literally. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this - or else Master Saa had just been hallucinating in her pain, which was also entirely possible. But Obi-Wan knew better than to discard a prophecy like that. Qui-Gon would have scoffed at him and told him to pay more attention to the Living Force, but Obi-Wan felt that prophecies had an important place in interpreting the future, too. Not many Jedi had the gift of true prophecy, but it was found more often in those of great age - like Master Saa. They had gained the clarity to view the Force without the clouds that usually fogged it.
Obi-Wan leaned over and picked up Niko, ignoring the goosebumps that prickled on his skin. The ysalamir let out a grumble of protest, rearranging itself in Obi-Wan’s arms.
“Sorry,” he told it, “but I need to work on Anakin, and you’re just in the way.” He carefully took it into the passenger quarters, setting it down on the small nest of leaves and branches he had made for it in Anakin’s cabin, then returned to the medbay.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeling the drugs in Anakin’s bloodstream, slowly filtering them out. He wasn’t very good at this; healing never had been a particular specialty of his, and normally, he couldn’t do much more than heal minor cuts and bruises. A slight meditative trance like this allowed him to focus his powers more.
Anakin stirred a bit as the medication slowly left his system. He was still asleep, but it was a natural sleep, rather than a drug-assisted one. “Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook him gently, hoping his natural reaction to being woken up didn’t involve lashing out with the Force.
“Mmmmph.” Anakin rolled over onto his side. “Ow!” He sat up, looking confused.
“Force, Anakin, I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan realized he must have accidentally drained the painkillers out of his body as well. “Here.” He pressed the popper against his skin, injecting more painkillers. “Is that better?”
Anakin closed his eyes for a moment, clutching his arm tightly until the painkiller took effect and the pain slowly receded. “A little better.” He blinked, looking confused. “What’s going on?”
“We’re about to land on Cyphar,” Obi-Wan explained. “Hopefully, we can find a doctor there who will treat your wounds. We’ll have to buy you a prosthetic hand, too.”
“A mechanical hand?” Anakin looked intrigued; Obi-Wan was willing to bet that he was already planning modifications to it in his head.
He chuckled. “Yes, a mechanical hand.”
“One of the mechanics on the freighter I worked on had one of those. He did all sorts of things to it to make it work better. I helped him take it apart once so he could do maintenance on it.” Anakin seemed to be feeling better already; Obi-Wan was glad that the slightly soporific effects of the painkiller hadn’t kicked in yet. It would make it easier to get Anakin up and about once they landed.
“Where’s the lizard at?” Anakin looked around. “I remembered a lizard. Was I imagining it?”
“No, that’s Niko, the ysalamir I got on Lorta.”
“It made me feel funny inside.” Anakin wrinkled his nose. “Everything was all quiet.”
Had he been hearing voices? Obi-Wan couldn’t remember Anakin mentioning it previously. Maybe his apparent madness really was more than just a lack of control over his Force powers. “Ysalamiri create a bubble of Force-neutrality around themselves,” he explained. “They evolved it as a defense to Force-sensitive vornskrs on their homeworld of Myrkr. It makes them very effective for catching Jedi in a trap, because we’re all used to feeling the Force around us, so we get somewhat disoriented when it’s gone. I thought it might help you because your lack of control with the Force is what’s causing your problems.”
“Oh.” Anakin looked confused. “Okay. I’m not really sure what’s going on, Obi-Wan.”
“It’s all right, Anakin. You’ll understand eventually.”
“I hope so.” He curled up on the bed again, staring mournfully at his stump. “It looks so weird.” He glanced up at Obi-Wan. “Why can’t I meditate?”
“Give it time, Anakin. Jedi are taught to meditate from a very young age. You’ve come to it late. You just have to develop patience.”
“But there are things in my head, Obi-Wan. They won’t go away.”
Obi-Wan looked concerned. “What kinds of things?”
“Like…dreams. Bad ones. People are yelling at me and dying and somehow it’s all my fault. Everything’s my fault.” Anakin clutched his head with his hand. “It’s not my fault, is it?”
“Of course not, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, hoping he sounded reassuring. He wasn’t sure if Anakin was having visions of the future, altered memories of the past, or something else entirely, but either way, it didn’t sound good for his sanity. He felt the slightly jarring motion of the ship coming in contact with solid ground. “Come on, we’ve landed.” He reached out and touched Anakin’s shoulder. “We need to get you to someone who knows more about medicine than I do.”
Anakin pulled away from the touch, looking up at Obi-Wan with wide, fear-filled eyes. He blinked, shaking his head rapidly. “Okay, I’m ready.” He stood up cautiously, a bit wobbly on his feet.
Obi-Wan worried about the flinch, but put it to the back of his mind. “Would you like a cloak or…something to hide your arm?”
“No, I’m fine.” Anakin frowned. “Do you want me to hide it?”
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse. I can handle it.” Obi-Wan looked down at the stump, still feeling a twinge of guilt for what had happened. He led Anakin out of the medbay and through the corridors of the ship, meeting up with Quin on the ramp.
“Where do you suggest we start looking?” Quin asked Obi-Wan.
“I’d prefer somewhere that would require minimal bribes, personally. We could just start looking aimlessly.”
Quin lowered his voice. “Or we could let the Force guide us.” He laughed harshly. “As if that’s ever done anything.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “You might be a skeptic, but it does work, Quin. Surely you haven’t forgotten everything since we left.”
“Forgotten? No. I just doubt it more and more as time goes on, and everything we were taught is proven wrong.”
He sighed. “Let’s just try the cantina, all right? I don’t particularly want to get into another philosophical debate right now.” Obi-Wan looked around for some sort of sign of the spaceport staple. A faded sign on the wall informed them that they were now in the main spaceport of Cyphar, and arrows conveniently pointed the way to customs, the commercial sector of the spaceport, and the entertainment sector. Obi-Wan glanced at the direction of the latter. “That way?”
Quin shrugged, obviously in another one of his sulky moods. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Obi-Wan sighed. Quin, he knew, wasn’t going to be good for much on this expedition, and Anakin was already starting to look nervous at the increased numbers of lifeforms around them. Glancing at Anakin worriedly, he started leading the small group through the winding corridors of the spaceport.
By the time they arrived at the cantina, Anakin looked exceptionally pale and withdrawn, and Obi-Wan could have sworn he was actually trembling. “Do you feel all right?” Obi-Wan asked him quietly. “Is your arm bothering you?”
Anakin simply shook his head, leaving Obi-Wan to guess at what he really meant. He didn’t think that the missing arm would be giving him that much trouble, but, then again, he didn’t have much experience with amputated limbs. His medical training had been limited to the basic first aid course given to all Jedi Padawans. Sighing, he sidled up to the bar, ordering a Tatooine Sunrise. He figured that by the end of the day, he would have earned a good, stiff drink.
The bartender looked past Obi-Wan at Anakin and Quin. “You with them?” he asked.
Obi-Wan nodded, sniffing his drink before tossing it back.
“Looks like your young friend needs some help loosening up. I’ve got some nice Corellian brandy that’d do the trick.”
He held his glass out for a refill. “That’s not the problem. He needs to see a doctor.”
“He just looks inexperienced to me.” The bartender mixed the drink expertly, shaking it rapidly to get the right color gradient.
“No, no, he definitely needs a doctor. He had a bit of a…messy forced amputation.” Obi-Wan leaned in towards the bar, fumbling in his pocket for one of their credit chips. He placed it flat on the bar, sliding it across to the bartender. “Would you happen to know where we could find one that does work a bit…under the table?” Taking his drink, he watched the bartender for his reaction.
“Aye, there’s one down next to the Naboo Lily.” He picked up the credit chip, examining it with an expert eye. “Does work for the girls there. Dunno how much she can help your friend, but that’s the only one I know of…unless you’ve got more cash, that is.”
Obi-Wan swallowed the second drink, setting the glass back down on the bar. “Thank you for your help. We’ll come back if we need more assistance - or Corellian brandy, I suppose.”
Quin snorted derisively as they headed out the door. “A brothel medic? I’m sure she’ll be qualified to deal with missing arms.”
“What’s a brothel?” Anakin asked.
Obi-Wan flushed bright red. Surely the boy was old enough to know about the facts of life by now, he thought. Not to mention that he’d served on a freighter…there was no way he could have remained painfully naïve for so long.
Quin rolled his eyes at Obi-Wan. “It’s a place where people go to have their needs serviced,” he explained.
“Oh, like a place where you can eat and rest and bathe? That’s nice.”
“Not those needs, Anakin.”
Obi-Wan wondered how explicitly Quin would have to spell it out before Anakin got what he was referring to; though the Jedi typically frowned on sex because it led to emotional attachments, they were still educated about the basics and told how to prevent the less favorable side effects of sex. Quin, he knew, had learned about sex hands-on at an early age, and had considered it his personal responsibility to educate his friends, including Obi-Wan.
“Freshers, then?” Anakin looked distinctly confused as they crossed over into what had to be the territory of the brothels. Gaudily-dressed women - and a few young boys - winked at them, gesturing lewdly at the trio. Quin winked right back at them; he was just as shameless as most prostitutes when it came right down to it.
“There’s the Naboo Lily,” Obi-Wan interrupted, pointing to the large building, decorated in deep blue and silver. “I’m guessing we want the place on the right.” He indicated a very small, unlabeled building next to it.
“Looks more like a secret bondage dungeon than a doctor’s office,” Quin muttered under his breath. He walked over to the door, pressing the buzzer next to it. The door slid open, and Obi-Wan and Quin walked in, Anakin trailing behind.
Though the room was small, it was immaculately clean and painted sparkling white. It looked like every other waiting room Obi-Wan had ever been in, just on a smaller scale. A nondescript plant with long, trailing vines sat on a small table, and two empty chairs were on either side of the table. At the other end of the room was a rickety-looking desk with a young woman sitting behind it. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into a strict bun, a few wisps escaping to frame her face. Her skin was a few shades lighter than the glossy green leaves of the plant, and a pattern of interlocking diamond tattoos crossed the bridge of her nose, marking her cheeks. She looked up at them, smiling.
“Can I help you?” she asked, setting her datareader down.
“We’re here to see the doctor,” Obi-Wan told her. “Can you let her know we’re here?”
She chuckled. “I’m hardly a doctor. A medic, maybe, but I’m not going to falsely bill myself as a doctor. I can probably help you, though. What do you need?”
Quin butted in. “No, we’d rather see the doctor.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, if you don’t like it, then leave. But if you’re here, then you need something done that’s…less than legal. And I’ll do better and safer than the other people who’ll charge you more.” She stood up, offering them her hand. “I’m Barriss.”
Obi-Wan shook her hand. “Ignore my friend. He likes to be belligerent sometimes. Or, well, most of the time. He isn’t that bad, though.”
Barriss shrugged. “I get that sort of thing a lot. It’s why I work down here. Most of the prostitutes don’t really care how old I am, just as long as I’m discreet and I can do what they want me to do. So, what do you need?”
Obi-Wan gestured to Anakin. “He needs a prosthetic arm.”
“Mmm, all right. Follow me.” Barriss went through the door to the right of her desk, leading them into her examination room. “Get on the table,” she said to Anakin.
Anakin glanced nervously at Obi-Wan, but sat down on the examination table.
“Do you have the prosthesis?” She pulled out an assortment of straps, fastening them around Anakin’s torso and legs. “If not, one of you needs to go buy one.” She snorted. “Good luck finding a decent one here.”
Obi-Wan and Quin exchanged looks for a moment. “I’ll go buy one,” Obi-Wan said finally. He edged out of the room, leaving Barriss, Anakin, and Quin alone.
Barriss continued bustling around Anakin, seemingly oblivious to Quin’s hostility. “I’m going to have to knock you out, okay?” she said to Anakin, pulling out a hypodermic needle. “I’m sorry for the ancient equipment. It’s hard to find good, up-to-date equipment out here.” She plunged the needle into a small vial, watching carefully as she drew the anaesthetic into the syringe. Taking Anakin’s good arm, she rubbed the skin vigorously until she found a vein. Anakin hissed in surprise as she plunged the needle in.
Quin frowned, staring at Barriss. He could sense something was strange, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Barriss watched Anakin, monitoring his pulse with a pair of fingers as he gradually lost consciousness. “He needs to eat more,” she observed. “He’s almost certainly underweight, and possibly malnourished.” Taking Anakin’s other arm, she examined the stump with a critical eye. “Nicely severed and cauterized. That’s a problem for prosthetics, though. You need live nerve ends for the neural net of the prosthesis to bond to.” She frowned. “I’m going to have to cut off the dead tissue. That’s why I knocked him out.”
“We had to cauterize it to keep him from bleeding out,” Quin lied.
She glanced up at him for a moment. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I know what a lightsaber wound looks like.”
“You can’t possibly get many of them out here,” he protested, pulling in one of the chairs from the waiting room.
“No, I mostly get a wide assortment of sexually transmitted diseases.” She blushed, her skin turning a dark blue-green. “Well, I mean, I don’t get them, I see people with them.”
Quin chuckled. “Nah, you’re a little young to actually have them. How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.” She poked at the end of Anakin’s arm.
“And you really know what you’re doing?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She bit her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. “Of course, it’s been years since I’ve done a prosthesis, and I’ve never done it on my own before, but I think I can manage.”
“Years? Force, how old were you when you started your schooling?”
“Nine, or thereabouts.” She looked up at him, frowning. “How dense are you, anyway? Force, I knew who you were the moment you walked in the door. I don’t expect you to know me, but you should have at least realized what I am by now. And I’m assuming that you came to me because you wanted someone who wouldn’t do a midichlorian test on his blood.” She paused for a moment. “He wasn’t in the Temple, was he? He looks like he’s my age, but I’ve never seen him before.”
“What, you survived the massacre? You must’ve been…”
“Thirteen.” Barriss set her scalpel down in a tray. “I was thirteen years old, and I spent the night covered in blood, trying my best to keep the last few remnants of the Order alive.” She looked him in the eyes. “And where were you then, Quinlan Vos? My Master was slaughtered in the crèche, trying to protect the Younglings. The Council was eliminated, one by one. Have you ever been in the Council Chambers at sunset?” She swallowed hard, her eyes glittering with tears. “Master Gallia died at sunset. The rays of sunlight turned everything as red as her blood.”
“How did you make it out?”
“I hid in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, in the rock formations behind the big waterfall. I concentrated and hoped that they wouldn’t find me. I’m not sure how it happened, but I escaped their notice. Probably because there weren’t enough of them to check the Temple thoroughly. They were concentrating on the Masters and the Younglings. Nobody cared about a Padawan like me. After they left, Master Allie, Master Saa, a couple other trainee Healers, and I went through and tried to save whoever we could…and we helped anybody who was too far gone to save.” She sighed. “I passed out in the Council Chambers. I hadn’t been paying enough attention, and I overworked myself - I almost died. Master Allie snuck me offplanet with her. I was mostly unconscious then, so I don’t know how she did it. I don’t know how anybody escaped, really…but they did.” Barriss took a deep, shuddering breath. “I dream about it all the time. I think everybody does. Sometimes, I see the faces of the dead when I meditate, pleading for me to save them. If I’d just known a little more, maybe I could have.”
“Obi-Wan and I were on Klatooine when we heard about it,” Quin offered. “He wanted to go back and see if we could help somehow. I said that we’d done more than enough to help the Order already. Force, we practically caused it all by running away from the Jedi.”
She nodded slowly. “Master Tholme said that it wasn’t your fault. He said that something like this had been coming, that the Sith had been planning this for millennia, and they were going to exterminate the Jedi no matter what. If that hadn’t been the catalyst, it would have been something else. Some other war, some other set of lies. Palpatine was a master trickster. He fooled the Jedi, after all. He fooled the entire Republic. He had them eating out of his hand, and all along, nobody ever realized that someone like him could possibly be a Sith.”
Quin fixated on the first part of what she had said. “Tholme survived? Really? Force, that’s good to hear. He was my Master.”
“He was off-planet at the time. They hadn’t really come up with a good way to take care of the ones who weren’t on Coruscant, so those Jedi gained a brief reprieve, until they could spare a few people to hunt them down like dogs. Those of us who remain did so through sheer dumb luck. The Sith didn’t spare any expense. They found the survivors and took them out ruthlessly. Sometimes, they would drag them back to Coruscant and finish them there. Darth Maul does that a lot. So does Komari Vosa.” She made a face as if she was going to spit on the ground, then she thought better of it. “Vosa killed my Master. She disarmed her and wounded her, then slaughtered the Younglings and made her watch before she ended it.”
“Komari cut Anakin’s arm off when we dueled her. She tried to take him hostage, but he struggled. She lost her hand, too.”
Obi-Wan burst into the room, a slightly rusty-looking mechanical arm in one hand. “Sorry it took me so long.” He surveyed their faces, noticing that Barriss was near tears. “Did I miss something?”
Barriss scrubbed her eyes with the back of her forearm, then stood up, taking the prosthesis from him. She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, this looks sanitary. Did anybody tell you that you shouldn’t buy prosthetics used?” Poking at the plastic that covered the end of it, she peered inside the framework. “Well, it looks clean enough. I’ll just put it in the flash sterilizer while I do the rest of the procedure and hope that works.” She crossed the room, placing the arm inside a small box-like device and pressing a few buttons. It let out a mechanical hum and lit up, emitting a bright glow. Grabbing her stool, Barriss sat down next to Anakin, picking up his arm again. “I hope neither of you are squeamish,” she said. “If you are, you might want to leave the room. And please don’t say anything while I’m working, because some of it is very delicate work.” She exchanged her pair of rubber gloves for a fresh set, picked up the vibroscalpel, and went to work.
Obi-Wan brought the second chair from the waiting room in, sitting down next to Quin. He watched Barriss as she worked deftly, slicing away the layers of cauterized tissue with her scalpel, then using a small laser to seal the main veins and arteries in the arm and stop the bleeding. From time to time, she would pause for a moment to swab the uncovered flesh with bacta gel, trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Despite her best efforts, the part of the examining table beneath Anakin was soon soaked in blood, as were the cuffs of the sleeves of her white lab coat. Beads of sweat grew on her face as she tried to staunch the flow of blood. Grabbing a strip of rubber, she tied it tightly on Anakin’s upper arm, creating a makeshift tourniquet.
As he watched, Obi-Wan was surprised to feel a shift in the flow of the Force in the room. He concentrated for a moment, trying to feel where it was going. The trail led back to Barriss, who was fairly glowing with Force-energy as she focused all of her healing efforts on Anakin. At the moment, she was using her power to slow Anakin’s heart down and, therefore, decrease the movement of blood; at the same time, she was manipulating her small laser to shave the bone in the stump down to the level of the tissue, removing the dead cells there as well.
Finally, she completed the first portion of her task, applying even more bacta gel in order to cease the bleeding and encourage healing of the tissue. Using the Force, she opened the flash sterilizer and removed the prosthesis, floating the mechanical arm over to the operating table. She fitted the limb over the stump, carefully aligning it, then directed her Force powers to the synthetic neural net within the prosthesis, encouraging it to bond with Anakin’s already-existing nerve cells and tissue. This was normally a long and arduous process that took some time in rehabilitation, oftentimes resulting in the rejection of the limb by the host body, but the Force was used to successfully speed it up. Barriss used the last of her rapidly waning energy to finish healing Anakin’s arm, then slumped down on her stool, nearly collapsing. Quin used the Force to prop her up, earning him a weary, but grateful smile from the young Mirialan.
“Force,” she said finally, breaking the long period of silence in the room. “I really haven’t done anything like that in a long time.” She frowned. “I nearly botched it all. I’m sorry.” Barriss peeled her bloodstained gloves off, throwing them in the trash receptacle.
“You did a better job than we could have,” Obi-Wan reassured her. He wanted to ask about her use of the Force, but decided that now probably wasn’t the best time.
“Yeah, but he still lost way too much blood.” Barriss shook her head. “And I don’t even know what blood type he is, in case I need to do an emergency transfusion. I don’t even have any blood on hand, actually, so I’d have to find out his blood type and hope that one of you has a compatible type.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Maybe I’m really not ready to be working on my own.”
Anakin tossed and turned behind her, pulling at his restraints. Obi-Wan could feel his growing restlessness in the Force. “You…might want to wake him up now.”
Barriss winced. “I don’t have enough energy left to drain the general anaesthetic from his system. He’s going into a natural sleep now. I’m assuming that’s bad?”
“He can’t control the Force,” Quin interjected. “You figure it out.”
“Quin!” Obi-Wan hissed.
“Obi-Wan, you dolt, she’s harmless,” Quin muttered to his friend. “I’ll explain later.”
She sighed. “I really can’t do anything. Don’t you have any way to take care of him? What have you been doing? How long has he been with you, anyway?”
“A couple of weeks?” Quin guessed. “Not long. And we don’t know very much about him.”
“That’s…irresponsible of you,” Barriss muttered, just barely loud enough for the two to hear. She bent over Anakin, examining him with the Force. “Who the hell takes in an underfed teenager who can’t control his considerable amount of power?”
“Oh? And what would you have done?” Obi-Wan asked, stung by her criticism.
“Not that.” She frowned. “Not unless he was in a situation where he really needed to be rescued. Of course, I hardly have the resources to feed and house a foundling.” Lifting up his shirt, she pulled out a stethoscope and pressed it against his chest, listening to his breathing. “Force, look how bony he is!” She prodded his ribs. “Have you been feeding him?”
“As much as he’ll eat. He’s a light eater, though, and sometimes he forgets to eat because he’s caught up in something else.”
“Mmm.” She looked at Obi-Wan. “I’m coming with you.”
“What? You can’t-“
“Why not? You obviously need someone who’s more qualified than you are to look after him.”
Obi-Wan frowned at her. “I’m completely qualified. Besides, you don’t have any sort of certification.”
“No, but I have seven years of training under a Jedi Healer. You aren’t going to find anyone more experienced.”
Quin interrupted. “Look, I don’t think you understand. We’re bounty hunters. We don’t just fly around the galaxy for fun. We actually do work.”
“And I’m going to be more in the way than he is? I doubt that.” She pressed a button on her examination table, releasing a secret compartment. She removed a lightsaber hilt from the compartment and showed it to the two men. “I do know how to use this, and I can use a blaster if I have to. Not to mention that I know several ways to disarm someone completely with the Force.” She grinned. “Besides, you owe me payment, and I happen to need a ride to Kinyen.”
“Kinyen? That’s a bit out of our way. We’re trying to stay away from the Sith, not land on their doorstep,” Quin pointed out. “I think I’d rather give you the credits.”
Barriss folded her arms over her chest. “I also think that you should accompany me there for other reasons. The Resistance headquarters are there.”
“Oh, no, we are not getting ourselves tangled up with your damn resistance,” Quin insisted, glaring at her.
“Why not? You said you wished you could have helped the Jedi during the massacre. Now’s your chance to give something back.”
“I said that Obi-Wan wanted to help. Quite honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. They brought it upon themselves.”
Barriss swallowed, tears sparkling in her eyes. “They did not, and you know it. I was thirteen. What did I do to deserve Sith trying to kill me and everybody I knew? Force, what did the infants do to deserve lightsabers driven through their skulls? What did any of us do to deserve to be hunted down and slaughtered one by one?” She sniffled. “The Jedi were just trying to bring peace and justice to the galaxy.”
“The Jedi,” Quin said slowly, “were a bunch of pompous asses who had grown more pompous and more out of touch with the common people as the millennia went on. Look, Barriss, the massacre was a tragedy, but that’s how things work. When the dominant lifeform grows weak, another kills it and takes its place. Eventually, the Jedi will return when the Sith grow weak.”
“And meanwhile, you’re content to just let the Sith run wild.” She snorted. “Because it doesn’t affect you, right?”
“Right. I’m done playing the hero, Barriss. It only causes pain.”
“Doing nothing will cause more pain in the end,” she insisted.
“Not for me.”
“With that kind of an attitude, it’s easy to see why you ran away from the Order as soon as you could. If I was your Master, I would’ve kicked you out myself.” Barriss glared at him. “And what about you?” she asked Obi-Wan. “What’s your pathetic, cowardly excuse?”
“Mine?” Obi-Wan shrugged. “I don’t have one. I do wish you would quit antagonizing Quin, though, and pay more attention to Anakin. Quin’s too easy to pick a fight with.”
Barriss set the lightsaber down, looking at Obi-Wan, then nodded slowly. “All right. I’m sorry I allowed myself to be distracted.” She rested a hand on Anakin’s chest. “He does seem to have calmed down a bit now, though, and I think he’ll probably wake up fairly shortly.”
“Do you mind if we use your waiting room to have a discussion while we wait?”
Barriss shook her head. “No, not at all. Go right ahead.”
Obi-Wan flashed her a warm smile. “Thank you.” He stood up and grabbed Quin’s arm, pulling him into the other room with him.
Barriss watched them leave, still keeping an eye on Anakin. Taking a wet cloth, she began cleaning up the dried blood on his arm, wiping off a little bit at a time. He started twitching when she was nearly finished, trying to pull away from her ministrations. “Shhh,” she whispered. “It’s all right. I’m just trying to take care of you.” She smoothed his hair back from his forehead with her free hand.
Anakin cracked one eye open, watching her. “What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.
Barriss jumped; she hadn’t been expecting him to respond. “I’m just, um, wiping some of the blood off. I’m almost done, though.”
“I’m Anakin,” he said. “What’s your name?”
She paused for a moment, flashing him a brief smile. “I’m Barriss.”
“Barriss? That’s a pretty name.” He looked down at his arm. “That looks weird.” Anakin frowned. “How does it work?”
“If I did it right, just like your other hand did.” She watched the prosthetic arm carefully.
He clenched his fingers experimentally, the servomotors in the arm whining in protest. “Sounds like they need to be oiled. Do you have any oil here?”
“No, I don’t.” She chuckled. “It’s not something that’s usually called for in my line of work.”
“Are you a medic? You look young.”
“I’m a Healer,” she said proudly.
“What’s a Healer do?” Anakin moved the fingers of his mechanical hand one by one, seemingly entranced by the movement.
“They’re…like medics, only they’re Jedi.”
He looked up at her again. “You’re a Jedi? Nuh-uh. Jedi are supposed to be older.”
She laughed, brushing a stray wisp of hair back from her face. “Jedi Knights are older. I’m still a Padawan - that’s an apprentice learner. Well, I was a Padawan. I’m…not really anything now.”
“Because there aren’t any more Jedi.” Anakin frowned. “Quin and Obi-Wan talk about that a lot.”
“Mmm. I imagine they do.”
“So do you have a lightsaber? Obi-Wan has two lightsabers, but he won’t let me use them yet.” Anakin grimaced. “He says that I have to learn control, and then I can use my lightsaber, and then I’ll be able to make my own lightsaber.”
Barriss nodded. “I do. I never got the opportunity to make my own, though. I use my Master’s old lightsaber, though I replaced the green crystal with a blue one.”
“What was it like, being a Jedi?”
“It’s…hard to explain to someone who’s not a Jedi. I grew up in the Temple. Most people would find that strange, but to me, that was home. I never had a family like normal people. I grew up with my agemates in the crèche. When I was older, I moved into the Initiates’ dormitory, so I shared a room with about fifteen other girls, and then I moved into Master Luminara’s quarters when she chose me as her Padawan. We spent most of our time in classes - they started us out with easy ones when we were about four years old, mostly meditation and lightsaber classes. We had to learn how to sense the Force and manipulate it, and that’s where meditation comes in. Have you been learning how to meditate?”
Anakin pulled a face, grimacing. “Yeah. I’m not good at it, though.” He paused, thinking. “Do you ever see things when you meditate?”
“Well, sometimes I visualize calming scenes to help me relax. Does that count?”
“No…I don’t see anything calm. It’s never calm in my head.” He gripped his head tightly, wincing as some hair caught in the joints of his prosthesis. “Lots of thoughts, lots of voices, all swirling around inside. That’s not what it’s like to be a Jedi?”
“No…” Barriss thought for a moment. “Obi-Wan needs to teach you shielding, I think.”
“Shielding?”
“It’s sort of…a way of blocking bad things out. Jedi are natural empaths - that means that they can sense others’ feelings. Some are stronger at it than others. Healers, for example, tend to be fairly strong empaths, and that means that they have to shield all the time, or else they pick up on thoughts and emotions that people broadcast. I bet you’re the exact same way, and he probably never even thought about the possibility.” She snorted. “Wouldn’t surprise me, anyway. He…doesn’t seem to be handling things well.”
“He thinks about a man a lot.”
Barriss laughed suddenly. “I’m really not surprised about that, either. What kind of man?”
“Dunno. He’s tall. Long, brown hair. It makes Obi-Wan sad.” Anakin frowned. “I don’t know how I know that, though. I think the voices told me.”
“Where are you from, Anakin?” Barriss asked, curious.
“Tatooine. Have you ever been there?”
“No, I haven’t. I’m from Mirial, but I’ve never been there, either.”
“Mirial? What’s it like there?”
“From what I’ve seen in holovids, it’s flat and snowy. Lots of tundra everywhere.”
“Snow?” Anakin looked interested. “I’ve never seen snow.”
“That’s right, Tatooine is a desert planet, isn’t it? Out in Hutt space? I remember learning about it.”
“Yeah…the Hutts control everything. I used to be owned by Gardulla the Hutt, till she lost me betting on the podraces. Well, me and my mom. Then Watto owned us…he wasn’t as rich as Gardulla, but he was nicer. We didn’t have to put up with her overseer pushing us around anymore. He was never very nice to me. I was only a little kid back then, though.”
“Wait, you were a slave?” Barriss frowned. “Did Obi-Wan and Quin rescue you from slavery?”
“No, I’ve been free for a few years now. Mister Lars bought me and my mom a little bit after Watto got hurt and freed us. Well, he just wanted her, but she wouldn’t leave me. We never got along, though. I fixed his droids and his moisture collectors and everything, but he never liked me. I don’t know why. His son was mean to me, too. He and his girlfriend would push me around and laugh at me and make fun of me whenever I made mistakes, but then I’d get mad, and things would start happening, and they’d get scared and run away. Anyway, he kicked me out, so I went to Anchorhead for a bit, but I got fired because people didn’t like being around me. Then I got a job on a freighter, and then Sabine found me, and I worked for her for awhile, and then Obi-Wan and Quin took me with them because I found their lightsabers.”
“Interesting.” Barriss thought about this for a moment. She wanted to ask him so many questions about his past, but she wasn’t sure what he would or wouldn’t tolerate, and she certainly didn’t want to provoke any bad memories.
“Your skin’s green,” Anakin observed. “Green with dots.”
She smiled. “Those are tattoos.” She ran a finger along the line of tattoos on her right cheek. “They symbolize deeds I’ve done to draw closer to the Force. It’s a Mirialan religious custom.”
“Can I touch them?”
“Of course. They don’t feel like anything, though.”
Anakin reached across with his good hand, stroking her tattoos with his fingertips. She closed her eyes for a moment and barely leaned into the touch.
“Feels just like normal skin.” Anakin sounded a little disappointed.
Barriss giggled. “I told you so.”
“Do you have any anywhere else?”
From anybody else, Barriss would have considered that flirting. From Anakin, she wasn’t so sure. Despite the fact that he was a teenage boy, she didn’t think that he was really the type to flirt, especially in such a blatant fashion. “No, I don’t. I’m too young to have many tattoos yet.”
“You should come with me and Obi-Wan and Quin,” Anakin decided. “I think you’d like it. Obi-Wan’s a really good cook. Quin’s…um, well, he’s Quin. I don’t think he likes anybody, really.”
“I noticed,” she said dryly. “He doesn’t seem to be too fond of me, either.”
“You can have the cabin across from mine.” Anakin grinned at her, and Barriss was a little surprised to find herself grinning back. His smile was a little infectious. All in all, he was a reasonably attractive boy, though Barriss wasn’t sure if he was her type or not. Something told her that he needed her help, though. Obi-Wan might have the situation under control for now, but she thought that Anakin needed more help than Obi-Wan believed he did - help best given by a trained Healer.
“Are the cabins very small?” she asked.
“Yeah, they’re pretty small. My first cabin aboard a freighter was smaller, and I shared it with two other guys.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like sharing a room, especially with other guys. They’re awfully weird. They laughed at me, too.” His voice grew more plaintive. “I don’t get why everybody always laughs at me.”
She shook her head. “People aren’t very nice sometimes.”
“Yeah…people aren’t very nice to me most of the time.” He sighed. “I had a few friends when I was growing up, but they all left me alone after I couldn’t podrace anymore. And then I moved out to the desert, and there was just Owen and Beru. My mom always wanted me to spend time with them so that I could have friends, but they didn’t like me. I really just wanted to work on my droid. I built my mom a protocol droid to help her out around the house, because I didn’t have a dad when I was growing up, and I was too small to really do anything. He was a pretty good droid. She kinda forgot about him once she got married, though. I tried to make him better, but I didn’t have any parts.”
“I had a few friends in the Temple. Not many, though. I spent most of my time studying. I had a lot of extra stuff to do once I started my Healing training, because that was in addition to my classes. I didn’t really have any time to hang out with people. I just…trained, studied, went to classes, and slept. I kind of wish I’d had more friends, but…they’d all be dead now, anyway.”
“Why are all the Jedi dead?” Anakin frowned. “I don’t get that.”
“Because the Sith raided the Temple about six years ago and killed them all. Well, not all of them, but most of them. The Sith are the Jedi’s enemies. Jedi serve the Light Side of the Force, and the Sith control the Dark Side.”
“What’s the difference?”
Barriss frowned, uncertain of how to answer Anakin’s question. It was something that most Jedi just…knew. They’d learned it almost unconsciously from being raised in the Temple and steeped in the Light Side. Some Jedi went bad, of course, but most of them remained on the Light Side. Everybody was tempted by the Dark Side, but few ever gave in. She had almost been tempted by the Dark Side after seeing the carnage at the Temple, but her own exhaustion had overwhelmed her desire for vengeance. After that, Master Allie had talked with her and helped her work through her dangerous feelings. “The Light Side is…”
“Overly sanctimonious and self-serving,” Quin answered for her. “Much like Obi-Wan.”
Obi-Wan frowned at him. “That’s a poor definition.”
“There is no Dark Side, and there’s no Light Side,” Quin said. “How’s that for a poor definition?”
“Rather contrary to the popular beliefs of both the Jedi and Sith, actually,” Barriss said. “That would be the Potentium view of the Force, correct?”
“I believe so. Anyway, it doesn’t depend on what the Force is like, it depends on who’s using it. In the wrong hands, it can be a weapon. Or the right hands, depending on what you think.” Quin shrugged. “It’s really just a matter of semantics.”
“I’m confused,” Anakin said.
Barriss sighed. “Get used to it. I have a feeling it’s going to be happening a lot with Quin around.”
Quin snorted. “Is that any way to treat your personal chauffeur?”
“Probably not, but you’d better get used to that, too.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I have a feeling that we’re going to be spending quite some time arguing those semantics.”
“Fantastic,” Quin drawled. “That’s the last time I ever let you talk me into taking pity on a poor, helpless girl, Obi-Wan.”
“No, usually you’re the one taking pity on them,” Obi-Wan pointed out.
“Ugh.” Barriss wrinkled her nose as she started to pack her medical equipment. “I think I’ll pass on that, thanks.”
“You’re too skinny and green for me, anyway. And too young, for that matter.”
Anakin poked at the insides of his mechanical arm, apparently ignoring the conversation. “I think Barriss is nice,” he offered randomly.
“Thank you, Anakin.” She shot a glare at Quin. “It’s nice to know that somebody does.”
“I never said you weren’t nice. I just said you were skinny and green.” Quin smirked at her. “You really aren’t nice, though.”
“Oh, good. If I’m not nice, that means I have a perfectly good reason to kick you in the balls.” Barriss disappeared into another small room. “I’ll be right back,” she called out.
A spring popped out of Anakin’s arm, ricocheting off the wall. “Whoops. Hope I didn’t need that one.”
Obi-Wan winced. “I hope so, too.”
“Don’t worry, Obi-Wan.” Anakin smiled beatifically at him. “Everything will be fine.”
“Yeah, Obi-Wan,” Quin added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’re headed right into the jaws of the rancor, but everything’s going to be just fine. I’m sure nobody will use your survivor’s guilt to rope us into doing anything marginally suicidal that we don’t want to do.”
“My survivor’s guilt?” Obi-Wan was momentarily distracted. “I’m hardly the only one with a case of that.”
“No, but you’re the one who can be manipulated by it.” Quin patted his blaster. “I just listen to myself. And occasionally you, if you’re lucky.”
Anakin scrabbled on the floor for the spring. “And me.”
“No, Anakin, I’m not going to listen to you.”
“Aw, Quin, are you sure?”
Barriss returned, a small black bag in one hand and a large knapsack slung on her back. “Huh? Did I miss something?”
“We were just all making fun of Quin,” Obi-Wan said. “Don’t worry.”
“Oh, good, I’m just in time.” She grinned at them. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
Anakin popped up with the spring. “Found it!”
Quin glanced at his partner. “I have a bad feeling about all of this.”