The sound of something shattering brought Kerge to wakefulness, and he sat up slowly, blinking in the darkness of his room. Heavy footsteps moved through the common room of the apartment he shared with his master, followed by another crash as another object met the tiled area around their door. He rolled over on his stomach, pressing his head into the pillow, hoping it would muffle the sound. It worked to some degree, but unfortunately, there were some sounds that echoed in his head that came from within. Kerge knew he could make himself fall asleep again in spite of the noise, but he felt the Force's gentle nudge towards the door.

Slipping onto the chill carpet, he retrieved the topmost blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders as he moved across the room.

The door hissed open, and he walked silently down the hall to the common room where he found the hulking figure of his master, his back to Kerge.

"Did you think I wouldn't hear you?"

His Master didn't turn around. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Kerge stepped around his master's travel pack, which had strewn its contents across the floor. Taking the chair opposite the one his master sat in, he pulled his feet underneath him. "So. You're back."

His master narrowed red-rimmed eyes at him. "You're awake."

Kerge shrugged, rubbing the back of his hand across his raggedly cut hair, which stood in spiky braids around his head. "I was asleep, until--"

"I'm really in no mood for conversation, Padawan."

Unfazed by his master's words, perhaps due in part to his exhaustion and his awareness that his master's fury was not directed at him, Kerge shrugged again. "That's funny, because I could hear you pretty well in my head."

His master scoffed, a deep rumble in his throat. "I don't need to teach you how to block. You're not in the crèche. I think you need to get some more sleep."

Kerge hesitated for a moment, afraid he might take things too far, but it seemed foolish not to go on now that he'd already opened the door. Looking down at the low table between them, which lay somewhat lopsided now from a broken leg, he met his master's iron gaze. "That depends on whether or not you decide to demolish anything else in our apartment."

He'd seen his master visibly control himself before, but he'd never been the focus of such power contained, and a chill shook Kerge's frame. "You are walking a very fine line right now. Do you understand me?"

Sliding out of the chair, Kerge backed up several steps, suddenly aware of how large his master truly was. "I just think," he said slowly, "that you should know that I know why you're mad. And if you want to be pissed at me, then be pissed. Break the place down for all I care. But don't think that it doesn't matter to me, or that I don't know what's going on."

A penetrating silence seized the chamber, and Kerge heard only the sound of his own breath snaking into his chest. He pulled the blanket more tightly about him and started to walk quickly towards his room.

His master stood, blocking his path with about seven feet of solid fur and muscle. Kerge lifted his eyes slowly, meeting the deep-set Shistavanean eyes that stared at him from above. "I'm not angry with you."

Kerge swallowed, surprised at the amount of relief he felt. "I know."

"I didn't intend to broadcast anything out to you." His master sighed, broad shoulders sagging slightly. "I'm still not used to having you around."

"That's okay," Kerge said quietly. "I'm not used to dodging laser blasts and stuffing informants into closets either."

Some of the hardness of his master's features seemed to soften as he spoke. "Things are a lot more complicated right now then they usually are."

"I don't think that's really true for you, Master." Kerge tried to hold back a yawn, but it escaped across his face. "It seems like the Force never runs out of stuff for you to do."

His master nodded slowly, rubbing his temples.

Kerge stooped down, picking up a glass that had fallen from the broken table. "I guess it's good that I came around then. You can help everyone else, and I can help you." He set the glass on the tabletop, which stood at a quirky angle from the floor. "And then maybe you won't have to order new furniture every time the Council screws up."

"Padawan, I—"

"I'm going back to sleep. Oh yeah, there's some of that soup you like in the kitchen. I figured you'd probably be hungry, since you always are as soon as we get home." Kerge blinked sleepily at his master, and then padded down the hall towards his bed.

***

The blurred face of a healer swam before Qui-Gon's eyes, and he reached out, touching the inside plastiglass of the bacta tank. What was he doing in here? Feeling the tube in his mouth that fitted him to his breath mask, he took a deep breath, trying to determine the extent of his injuries. After testing each limb, he could only discern some lingering pain in his shoulder.

"Master Jinn, you need to stop moving around in there."

A disembodied voice spoke in his ear, and he responded by pounding on the glass of the tank, the sounds of his fists echoing distantly through the bacta. "Let me out."

"We're working on it. Calm yourself."

Although he knew some Jedi that actually found bacta tanks somewhat relaxing—the seclusion from the outside world, the weightless floating in a sea of warmth—he wasn't one of them. He thought they were claustrophobic deathlike boxes, and while they'd saved his life on occasion, he didn't harbor much in the way of gratitude.

"We're getting you out, Master Jinn. Just relax."

Above his head, one of the long-armed medical droids activated the lever that brought the floor of the tank towards the top. He sensed, rather than saw, the movement of several Healers as they gathered by the platform at the apex of the tank. The pink-tainted vision of the bacta gave way to clear sight, and he felt the warmth of the healers' hands as they helped him onto a portable hoverbed.

"I want you to take a deep breath, and as you exhale, I'm going to remove the mask." Qui-Gon did as bidden, and as the tube passed by his lips he coughed violently, sucking in as much air as possible. "Don't talk yet."

Ignoring the trembling of his limbs from weakness and cold, he narrowed his eyes at the healer. "Where is everyone? Where's Bel-San?"

"Hush, Master Jinn, all in due time. How are you feeling?"

Although he tried to push the hands of the healers away, they continued their ministrations, removing the tank's monitoring gear from his body. "I'm fine. I need to talk to Payter—"

"You're not going anywhere yet." Another healer approached him, and he looked up into a somewhat familiar face.

"Romi. Thank goodness. Tell these misguided people that I've got a clean bill of health, will you?"

The young healer's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "I heard you were trying to beat your way out of the bacta tank. That's a new one on me." He took a datapad from one of the healers and scanned it, his expression betraying nothing. "You should be saving your strength. Don't you remember getting shot?"

Qui-Gon sighed, thankful that someone had finally given him a blanket. Wiping at his eyes with the corner of the fabric, he nodded. "I'm fine. And I'm sure that Bel-San is healing well by now as well, correct?"

"We need to get you to a room. We're not ready to let you go yet." Romi gestured towards one of the padawans. "Find out which room is available for Master Jinn, will you?"

Qui-Gon tucked the blanket under his chin, surprised at how cold he still felt. "Bel-San. Where is he?"

"I'm not really sure, Master Jinn—"

"Qui-Gon."

Romi released a quick breath. "He's not my patient, Qui-Gon. I don't know where he is."

"But I'm sure they put him in a tank. Can't you check your list and find out where he is?"

Romi activated the hoverbed, and Qui-Gon swung his feet up onto the padding. "This is a big infirmary. We've got tanks in a few locations. . .he could be in any of them. And if he is, you're not going to see him until he's been removed."

"Where's Payter?"

The healer's young face indicated confusion. "Which one is he?"

"Shistavanean wolfman? Very big?"

"Right. No, haven't seen him."

"You're a lot of help," Qui-Gon said crossly, looking about as they passed through one of the hallways of the infirmary, hoping to see anyone who might be more forthcoming with information.

"Oh. There was someone floating around here waiting for you to wake up. I wouldn't usually recommend visitors for someone right out of a tank, but obviously you're not too groggy from the medication."

Romi directed the hoverbed into a smaller chamber, and he locked the bed into place beside the wall. "You really do need to rest. Your wound was starting to fester, not to mention you were beyond exhaustion when you arrived, and the blood loss didn't help."

"I will rest. But I need you to find out for me where my friends are, and I need a full report as soon as you do."

"Master Jinn, I can't go into other patient's files unless—"

He caught the healer's gaze. "Just do what you can. Please."

Romi inclined his head, and then exited the room, only to turn around to poke his head through the door. "Councilor Windu is here. He's been waiting a long time to see you."

Although he wasn't sure he was truly ready to see Mace, Qui-Gon replied in the affirmative. At least he could find out what was going on if he endured the man's presence for a few minutes. Knowledge would heal him faster than bedrest.

His old friend's silhouette blocked the light from the hallway for a moment, and Mace's face disappeared into darkness until he crossed to Qui-Gon's bedside. "So you finally woke up."

Qui-Gon met his gaze evenly. "It's awfully nice for everyone to be so concerned about me, but to be honest, I'm a bit more concerned about some other people. Maybe you can tell me how they are?"

Settling into a nearby chair, Mace clipped his comlink to his belt. "You've only been awake for what, five minutes? And you want to fight already?"

"I don't want to fight with you, Mace. I just want some damn information. Can you or can you not give me some?"

Steepling in his hands in the fashion that drove Qui-Gon near to madness, Mace gave a quiet sigh. "I need to know what went wrong."

"You already know what went wrong. You sent one person on a rescue mission that should have been completed weeks ago and by a much larger team of Jedi to a planet with military machinations that should have been investigated long before one of our resident scholars arbitrarily decided to visit it in order to learn the language." He took a breath, barely containing his own venom. "Did that sum it up pretty well for you?"

"Funny thing, I have a memory of you in the council chamber speaking on behalf of Bel-San, trying to pass the motion on his proposed trip. A trip, which you may recall, we initially deemed inappropriate for him. Do you think that might be why?"

"Oh. I see. So what you're saying is, I can overturn any Council ruling? Hell, if that's true, then why do they spend so much time telling me no? And thanks for that insinuation that I'm the reason Bel-San got captured because I'm the one who said he should get out of the Temple for once. Maybe it's just the painkiller talking, but it seems like you're passing the blame to make yourself feel better."

Mace remained silent for several long moments, his dark eyes reflecting the low lighting in the room. "Bel-San's not doing well."

"Oh, really? You think? I—"

"Shut up for two seconds and let me speak." A hoarse, deeper tone shot through Mace's voice, and Qui-Gon held his tongue. "They can't even put him in bacta yet, because he's not stable enough. He's got some kind of blood poisoning, something from his wound. Bacta would only aggravate the infection."

Qui-Gon kept his expression passive. "Will he live?"

"They don't know."

"And the Sentili?"

"Comatose. They can't get him to wake." Mace brushed a hand over his forehead, pausing to massage his temples. "I need to know what happened. You're the only one who can tell me."

Dropping his chin to his chest, Qui-Gon heaved a ragged breath as he closed his eyes. For a moment, he almost wished to be back inside the tank, ignorant of all outside, free from pain, closed off from knowledge was changing his world at breakneck speed.

"All right."

***

"Where are you going?"

Obi-Wan turned around, gasping a near-silent breath. "Shh!" He held his finger to his lips, though he doubted in the darkness of the common room that Slade would be able to see the gesture. Slade crept up beside him, and Obi-Wan punched him in the arm. "Be quiet!"

"Ow!" Slade whispered, rubbing his bicep. "What's going on?"

"Heri's going to hear us! Shh." Obi-Wan climbed up onto the short stool in front of the keypad and quickly entered in a string of code.

"How do you learn this stuff?" Slade asked, his voice barely audible.

The door opened with a puff of air, and Obi-Wan moved into the corridor. "I'm going to find my master. But if you don't want to get in trouble, then you should probably stay here."

Slade rolled his eyes, sliding through the doors just as they closed. "Yeah, I'm really worried about that." His lips curved in a purple grin. "I don't even have a master now, so who's going to yell at me? Besides, I'm not going to stand idly by while my best friend needs my help."

Even though he didn't feel much like smiling, Obi-Wan gave Slade a half-grin. If there was anyone in the universe who he could always count on, it was Slade. "Thanks."

"No prob." Slade gave a curt nod, peering down the hallway. "So what's your plan?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was going to sneak into the infirmary."

"Hmm. That's not really a plan. That's kind of like saying, 'Hey, I'm a little padawan wandering around the Temple by myself."

Scoffing, Obi-Wan steered them both behind a willowy potted plant. "Do you have a better idea?"

"I don't know if it's better, but at least it's a plan."

***

"Ow! My tail! It hurts, it hurts!" Slade cried out at the top of his lungs, his high-pitched scream startling the group of Jedi in the waiting room.

Obi-Wan clutched at Slade's arm, pretending to help him walk. "Remember, don't tell them who you are. Maybe it'll keep them confused a little longer," he hissed, whispering in Slade's ear.

Slade looked at him as if he'd been affronted. "I know what I'm doing. Go." He gulped another breath as several Healers neared them. "Ow! No! Don't touch me! You're just going to make it hurt more! Ow!"

Although he suddenly didn't want to abandon Slade to their scheme, Obi-Wan realized that he had to hurry if he was going to make it past the front desk. Giving Slade one last look as his friend yowled in agony, he slipped by the contoured desk and through the set of double doors that led further into the infirmary.

For a moment, he worried that he'd be noticed immediately, but the hallways were relatively quiet, and those healers that passed him by were too absorbed in the datapads they carried to notice his presence. Obi-Wan stopped beside a water fountain, closing his eyes for a second to try and discern where his master was. After Master Heri had helped him sleep, when he woke up, he had tried to sense his master, but he couldn't get anything at all. He knew his master was somewhere in the Temple, but it was like his master had been sleeping, only different. Reaching out just a bit, not enough to actually touch his master's mind, he found the pathway still blocked.

"Master, where are you?" he said softly, feeling more alone than he had in a long time.

Ducking out from behind the fountain, he walked further down the corridor, trying to hold himself at his full height to help him look older. He was moving into parts of the infirmary that he didn't remember, where it seemed like there were less rooms than before. He didn’t think it was going to be this hard. Why didn't they just put the masters up front so their padawans could find them? A turbolift was at the end of the hall, and Obi-Wan paused in front of it. Maybe he wasn't on the right level. Maybe that's why he was having trouble sensing his master.

He jumped up to hit the key, and waited for the lift to open. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he took a deep breath as the door slide by to allow him entrance. He took one step inside, and then looked up to see a white-robed healer.

Before he could back out, the Healer gave him a slight smile. "Do you need to be on the next floor?"

His insides felt suddenly shaky, but Obi-Wan steeled himself. Just pretend, he thought. You know how to do that. "Yes," he said softly, joining her in the lift.

"Are you here by yourself?" the healer asked.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened wider. "No."

"You're a padawan. Who's your master?"

Tucking his braid inside the collar of his tunic, he looked up at the ceiling as if he couldn't remember. "My master? Oh. His name is. . .Jes."

She shook her head. "Don't know him. But you said he's on this floor?"

"Yes. He was hurt, but he told me he'd meet me here."

The healer gave a quiet sigh, shaking her head at him. "Honey, this is the nursery. It's for all the new mommies." She reached over and changed the number of the floor on the lift keypad. "Let me take you back downstairs to the main desk. We'll see if we can find your master."

Obi-Wan swallowed, fighting back tears. If he couldn't find his master, than how could this Jedi who didn't even know him? Just be quiet, he thought. Just wait until the lift opens, and then you can get away.

As the doors slid open, he felt the healer try to take his hand, but he pushed her away, tearing out of the lift as fast as he could.

"Hey!" she cried, but Obi-Wan was already around the corner. Just run, he thought. Just run and they won't catch you.

He looked back for a second to see if anyone was chasing him, and then collided into a pair of legs. Obi-Wan fell backwards, landing hard on his back.

"Hey there, buddy." Another healer looked down at him, reaching out a hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, preparing to run in the opposite direction, but the healer caught him by the shoulders. "No! Let me go!"

"It's okay. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not telling you. Let me go." Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at the healer and kicked out his legs at him. "I mean it!"

"Hey now. It's okay, little one."

At the sound of those words, Obi-Wan felt hot tears spill down his face. His words came out in choked sobs. "You have to let me go. I have to find my master. He needs me."

The healer picked Obi-Wan up, although he tried to pry his hands off. "I'll take you to the desk and we'll find him, don't worry."

"No! I just want my master! I haven't seen him for a long time and I don't know if he's okay and I just want to see him! That's all I want. I've waited a long time and I can't wait any more!" Obi-Wan was distantly aware of the fact he was screaming, and even though his master had told him that indoor voices were always best inside, he couldn't stop himself.

"Are you Master Jinn's padawan?"

Obi-Wan wiped at his eyes, trying to see beyond his streaming tears as he gasped for breath. He looked at the healer. "Maybe." He sniffed, wiping his dripping nose on his tunic. "How do you know?"

"Nobody forgets when they meet your master. Come on. I know where he is." He set Obi-Wan down on the ground, taking his hand firmly. "It's this way."

They walked down the corridor, rounding several corners, and the healer finally stopped, pointing to the end of the hall. "It's that room down there. Do you want me to take you to him?"

Obi-Wan dropped the healers hand and ran, his bootsoles slamming against the tile of the infirmary floor. He kept his vision fixed on the doorway, and as he grew closer, a tall figure filed the opening. He ran past a confused Master Mace into the room, nearly knocking him over.

In the dim lighting, he skidded to a stop at the end of the bed, looking into the face of the man who lay there. "Master?"

Two blue eyes flickered open and met his, and a slight smile tugged at his master's lips. "Obi-Wan?" It almost looked like his master had been crying too, but he knew better than that.

Gulping back a sob, he jumped onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his master's neck. "Where have you been? I waited and waited, and I tried really hard, but I couldn't wait anymore. I didn't mean to yell and wake people up. I know it's nighttime. I'm sorry. Tell them I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Little One." His master's voice sounded hoarse, like he'd been talking for far too long.

His master's warm arms held him close, and Obi-Wan hugged him harder. "You weren't supposed to get hurt. I told you not to. Remember?"

"I know." He ran his hand softly over Obi-Wan's hair, and Obi-Wan pressed his face into his master's robe, smelling the medicinal odor of the infirmary gowns. "I didn't mean to."

"Is Teacher Bel-San hurt too?" he asked, voice muffled slightly by the fabric.

It took his master a moment to answer. "Yes. He's very hurt."

Obi-Wan looked up to meet his eyes, giving one of his hands a squeeze. "But now that you're back, everything's going to be okay. You'll get better and he'll get better, and Master Heri can take Slade for a padawan, and you can teach me how to build a lightsaber, and everything will be just fine."

His master sighed, and Obi-Wan saw him look over at Master Mace, who still stood in the doorway, as if he'd been transfixed between the room and the corridor. They looked at each other for a moment before his master spoke. "Everything will be just fine."

TBC