#padawan reader

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

*

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

*

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

*

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

*

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him. 

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

*

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 

He fixes you with a look.  

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

*

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

*

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless. 

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 

*

It sounds simple enough. 

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

*

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

*

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 

Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

*

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

*

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

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Having you bent over his large stone desk completely naked, your sensitive nipples stung against the cold stone. Your hands were tied behind your back and a blindfold was tightly secured around your eyes. You can feel your heart beating in your ears as you wait for your master to approach.

Suddenly you feel him stand behind you, and you try your best not to jump. Maul pushes his clothed but hardening cock against your bare ass, and his hands rest on either side of your hips.

“You’ve disappointed me greatly, my young padawan, and for that you will be punished. The pain will teach you, and you will grow.”

To emphasise his point, Maul harshly grabbed at your hips, before a strong hand came down on your ass cheek. Biting your lip, you held in the mixed moan and whine that threatened to escape.

As Maul stepped away from you, no doubt to grab a cane or some other instrument of punishment, you let out a shaky breath.

It sometimes confused you, but these sessions with your master filled you with just as much pleasure as his rewards did. Your pussy always ended up just as wet, and it forced you to want to obey him even more.

Caught up so much in your thoughts, you almost didn’t manage to stop yourself from jumping as his warm hand landed gently on your back.

“You’re going to hold still and take your punishment like a good girl. Do you understand?” He growls against your ear as he rips your head back by your hair.

“Yes, master, I understand,” you compliantly reply.

Dropping your head harshly back onto the desk, he lets out a pleased but angry growl.

“Count them for me,” he brutally orders.

Suddenly a harsh slap lands on your ass cheek, and it takes everything in you to stay still and not moan.

“One, master!” You obediently call out.

Maul never revealed how many times he’d hit you, but you always called out each number, no matter how hoarse your voice became. This time seemed to be one of his more brutal lessons, and by the time he finished and you called out the final number, your legs were shaking and tears stained your face.

As Maul ceased his punishment and began to walk away to put the cane back, you let out a shaky sigh of relief.

Warm hands touch your tear-stained face and your blindfold is lifted. You are met with your masters fiery eyes, and you can’t seem to help the dopey smile that plays on your lips. You manage to see the ghost of a smile on his own face, before he stands to undo your bound hands.

Helping you to stand on shaky legs, Maul takes your wrists in his hands as he stares down at you. Such a powerful Sith Lord, especially one who’s just hurt you in such a way, staring down at you like this should fill you with fear, but it doesn’t. Instead you feel a sense of comfort and reverence for your master.

Though you feel this comfort, his face is still blank as it always is.

“You will dress and go back to your chambers, you will not have dinner tonight,” he orders before his face lowers to your ear and his grip tightens, “and if you touch yourself tonight I will know. I can always sense it in you and smell it on you, little one.”

Being Anakin’s Padawan had meant that your Jedi journey had not been the usual sort. When Yoda had summoned you to the chancellor's office you weren't surprised. You got dressed and moved quickly not wanting to keep everyone waiting. What did surprise you was the absence of your master and Obi-Wan. Normally the three of you went everywhere together. You felt it was like being a family, in the darker parts of Anakin's mind you sensed he felt it was a kind of exile or alienation. 

You felt uncomfortable being in the presence of so many powerful people without Anakin. Normally he would help you navigate these types of situations. You bowed and waited for them to speak first. 

“Ah, lovely to see you dear!” The chancellor looked at you with a big smile on his face. Obi-wan and Anakin trusted him but he always made you feel strange. “We have a special task for you.” 

“We need you to negotiate an air space passage with someone in the outer rim,” Windu spoke clearly but you could feel he didn't approve of this plan. 

“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be an issue for us.” 

“We all feel it would be best to send you in with a team of troopers. He has a bit of a history with Anakin.” You tried hard not to let your emotions bleed through. “Your language skills are a necessity for this mission, really there is no better person to send.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Everything inside you was screaming not to do this, especially without Anakin’s approval. 

“Help you must,” Yoda said nodding. 

“Alright, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll go let Anakin know -” 

“I’m afraid there isn't time, I will speak with your master as soon as he returns from his tasks.” Palpatine gave you a reassuring look and a soft smile. You nodded and Windu escorted you to the ship. As far as you knew Anakin was asleep in his quarters, you reached out your mind and tried to wake him up. 

______________________________________________________________

Anakin was asleep. A rare occurrence these days. He could feel himself lying in the grass, wildflowers around him. The sun was shining on his face and the air was warm. Qui-gon and Obi-wan were laughing and he was very at peace. Anakin sat up when he felt you pressing into his mind. You were channeling all of your fear to him, pushing into his mind with as much force as you could. 

He shot out of bed and tried to reach out to you. He could tell you weren't in your room, but that you had moved a far distance in a short span of time. 

You were too far away. 

Where the fuck did you go?

He threw his robes on quickly and ran out into the hall, Obi-Wan moved around the corner and greeted him with a concerned face. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked grabbing Anakin’s shoulder 

“Where the fuck is my Padawan?” He asked angrily. 

He and Obi-Wan approached the council. Anakin knew he needed to control himself, but he could tell he was at his breaking point. They had no right to give you orders or send you anywhere without him, or his approval. You were tied to him, every move you made or any move the world made against you was his sole responsibility. Obi-Wan had his usual deep sense of calm surrounding him, Anakin wanted to shout at him for it. 

“The chancellor insisted Anakin, you have to understand the importance of this trade route -” One of the Jedi masters tried to explain, but he could sense Windu’s discomfort and focused his attention on him. 

“She’s with a whole crew of troopers. The chancellor was very clear he wanted her to be the one who made contact.” Windu finally broke. 

“Who is she meeting with?” Obi-Wan asked in a casual voice. 

“Orar Baize,” Windu answered and Obi-Wan clamped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder tightly. Anakin was tempted to hit him but felt slightly subdued by his master's energy. Making a scene here only meant it would be harder to go after you. 

“When is she to return,” Obi-Wan asked seemingly unbothered by this information. 

“If everything goes to plan, three days.” Windu said firmly. 

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan directed Anakin to the door and they moved down the hallway quickly. Once in the elevator, Anakin was ready to explode. 

“Don’t” Anakin pushed his master's hand away as Obi-Wan tried to help him. Rage and betrayal pulsed through him if he started to side with the council Anakin would kill him. 

We need to get to a ship. Just keep it together till then.

His master's words felt like a cool cloth being pressed to his forehead. He could feel his walls slip a little and realized he was just as angry as Anakin. 

We need to be practical if we are to reach her in time

For once Anakin wasn't annoyed with his master's reminder to be practical. He took a deep breath and felt his emotions focus. 

They climbed into a two-seater and managed to slip away without too much attention being drawn to themselves. It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to take a fighter out for a ride. 

He got the coordinates locked in and let the ship do its thing. 

“We should have dealt with him after what he did to Master Kenau.” Anakin's voice was venomous and he felt Obi-Wan sigh. 

“I agree. What he did and his reputation for collecting Jedi is unforgivable.” Obi-Wan nodded. Master Kenau, was badly assaulted years ago, Anakin found out and insisted they press the council to do something about him, but she refused. She wasn’t herself after that and Anakin felt her pain to this day. 

“She’s just a kid. They sent a child into the hands of a rapist with a special appetite for Jedi.” Anakin had only reached this level of anger when he had the sand people incident. He tried to remember there was a lesson in all of that, how painful it was to tell Obi-Wan. Thinking of something happening to you erased all feelings of remorse or logic.

“The council has become more and more influenced by the politics of The Republic,” Obi-Wan said taking Anakin off guard. “It is not our place to be involved with these kinds of things.” 

“What do we do about it?” Anakin asked genuinely curious about his master's stance. 

“I get the feeling it will all fall into place after we get her back.” He said calmly. 

“I didn’t think you would help,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, unsure if he wanted to discuss these issues now. 

“Please, Anakin. The girl is like a granddaughter to me.” Obi-Wan chided. 

That would make me your son, Anakin thought to himself. He held those words with him while they tried to catch up with you. 

____________________________

You were starting to realize that this was a trap. Your stomach was right. You should have kicked and screamed and stalled till Anakin or Obi-Wan could get to you. 

But here you were, alone. Clones were murdered in the landing bay, and you were in Orar’s office after taking out a bunch of droids. You had never met a species of his kind. He was large with mint green skin. 

“What’s your name?” He asked with the smile of a predator. His teeth were long and pointed. You decided not to answer. 

“Well, tiny Jedi. The Chancellor has held up his end of the bargain.” His eyes were dark and you stood there with good posture like Anakin had taught you. “Your life was traded for something of little value.” He was trying to get a rise out of you. But that’s what men like that fed on, he wanted you to argue your value. He wanted to watch you dance and react, wanted to feel your youth and belittle you. 

“Come on little Jedi, Say something.” 

“Something.” You said easily and his jaw clenched. 

“Don’t make this difficult, it could be a nice time if you let it be.” You started to feel what he wanted and you fought harder than ever to keep your emotions closed off and contained. 

“I think I should be leaving now.” You said diplomatically, you would try to walk out of here the Jedi way first. 

“That’s not going to happen.” His body radiated a sick pleasure and you let it feed the anger in your chest the way Anakin showed you too.

__________________________________________

The sound of dueling rang through the landing bay as they moved through the bodies of clones and droids. Anakin moved quicker than he could ever remember moving in his life. They moved onto the top platform and watched you duel with Orar. 

Anakin could tell you had been at it for a long while by this point. He watched as you defended yourself. He moved forward and Obi-Wan put a hand on his arm. Anger shot through him.

I had to watch you fight your first battle too 

Obi-Wan’s voice ran through his mind, his hand still firm on Anakin's arm. He watched your ruthless form and could see the man faltering. He had taught you every form from the archives he could find. He wanted you to be the best Jedi he wanted you to be able to overcome all evil and triumph. 

Did you teach her illegal forms?

Obi-Wan hissed. He watched you execute it perfectly, slicing through the man’s body twice before his body hit the ground. Blood sprayed and he watched you sink to your knees chest heaving. 

Anakin rushed up to you picking you up as if his embrace could somehow stop the feelings that would eat into you. Your body shook hard and he took on all of your weight, picking you up properly. The three of you moved in silence back to the landing bay. He found a utility sink and put you down in front of him. He helped keep you up right and he washed your hands. Then he got the blood off your face and neck. Something he wished someone had done for him after the sand-people. 

He carried you back towards the ship. Obi-Wan held his arms out towards Anakin, he could feel his master’s reluctance to hold the girl. He only shook his head and got into the passenger side. 

He took his robe off and wrapped you in it. Your eyes were still closed tightly as your mind and body fought against each other for control. 

______________

Obi-Wan watched as Anakin held you tightly. Your face pressed against his chest and his arms around you. He reflected on all of the times he wanted to hold Anakin just as tightly but didn't.  He could feel the struggle inside you to overcome the situation, to make peace with what you had been forced to do. Anakin was angrier than he had ever seen him before, but he also watched his Padawan try to control it more than ever before. Obi-Wan got them locked in on the path home, he put his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, glad that he accepted Obi-Wan’s help. 

You need to clear your mind. It will be easier for her to process the feelings with your help. 

He could feel Anakin’s usual annoyance at his advice. But then he could feel Anakin center himself and then slowly start to take on your emotions. Eventually, you stopped shaking, he could tell the two of you were talking. 

He could also feel the dangerous bonds of attachment weaving around them. Something he realized he could only see because of his own attachment to Anakin. 

He sighed. He felt they were so far off the path they should be on. 

Tears fell down Anakin's cheeks as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They had been soldiers in this war for too long. 

He knew Anakin wouldn't let this slide. He would be out for blood the second they reached Coruscant. Obi-Wan could hardly blame him, as the overwhelming anger was boiling in his own blood. Sacrificing a 15-year-old to such evils was unforgivable. 

__________________

Obi-Wan was with you for most of the day. He spared with you and you wondered if he would talk about the forbidden forms you had used. You wanted to talk to him about it but you were worried he would be angry with Anakin. You hated it when they fought. 

You were reluctant to sleep in your own bed. It's not that you regretted your actions you just felt overwhelmed by the feeling of killing someone. You knew the day would find you but the weight was relentless on your mind. You tried to revisit that ride home, sitting in his embrace. His love was an easy feeling to find in the bond between you now. You tried to hold it and breathe deeply when the memories would resurface.

Anakin had told you how to act over the next few days. You could feel his mind keeping tabs on you constantly. He told you to act normal and to tell him when they called upon you. You weren't allowed to leave the temple under any circumstances, keeping to your room and the training room. 

“Master Obi-Wan.” You asked turning off your lightsaber, he did the same. 

“Yes.” You could tell he knew what you wanted to talk about. 

“I wanted to let you know that I tried to leave like a Jedi.” You took a deep breath. “I asked to leave, I tried to fight defensively. He- I -” 

“I think you tried to fix the situation, and eventually realized the threat he posed was too large. You knew what he wanted to do to you and others. You did what you had to do. If I didn’t think it was right, I would have stepped in and handled it for you.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Anakin and I needed you to see for yourself what you are capable of. I do wish that it could have been in a lesser conflict.” His eyes were empathetic and you wanted to hug him. 

“You don’t think it makes me a sith?” You whispered.

“No” He laughed. “I don’t think the Sith could take you, even if they tried their hardest. Your heart is pure, more pure than most.” 

“Anakin said that’s why I need to learn everything to be prepared.” 

“He feels that you won’t lose yourself or be tempted by the power.” Obi-Wan made a face. “He worries about where the war is headed, above all Anakin wants you to survive.” 

You nodded thinking about your master's faith in you.

_

The call came sooner than you thought. Obi-Wan was in a meeting with Anakin and you were reading in your room. 

Master - you reached out 

What - Anakin responded right away 

The chancellor has summoned me 

Don’t leave your room - his voice was grave and you sat on your bed waiting for Anakin. 

He was there in moments, just long enough for the anxiety to take hold in your stomach. He told you to walk in there and listen and be polite, panic overtook you when you realized he wouldn't be following you in. 

Master - you reached out hesitantly with your mind and your fingers curled into the arm of his robe.

Just relay what he says to me 

You nodded and walked out of the elevator and down the long hall to his office. 

“Ah!’ Palpatine's eyes looked you over. “Thank you for coming to meet with me on such short notice!” His smile was wide and you wanted to hit him. 

“I understand that there was a complication with the mission, I just wanted to see how you were feeling about everything.” he tried to look understanding and you wondered what Obi-Wan had told the council. 

“Fine.” You gave a little shrug. 

“I understand that our contact had attacked you. I just wanted to apologize for what happened dear.” You watched him closely but didn't accept his apology wanting him to continue. “I did hear that your exceptional skills with a lightsaber saved you. I had no idea you were so gifted with all the forms.” 

“It’s complicated. But I’d rather be prepared for what's out there.” 

“Exactly! My thoughts exactly.” He looked so happy. “There is so much untapped power out there. Something I think you can feel quite well.” He looked at you expectantly. As if he was waiting for you to get the secret meaning of his words. 

“You and Anakin are both so special. I think that the three of us should work closer together in the future.” He nodded. Suddenly you caught on to what he was saying. 

“Sir, not to overstep -” 

“Please, child. We are friends.” He smiled again, his eyes hungry. 

“Well, there is a lot of power, I feel angry that The Order keeps it from me. There is a war out there and we need more than -” You waved your hands around. “This. Something stronger.” 

He looked positively deranged with joy. 

“I know the ways beyond the order, I could teach you and your master.” 

“What would you teach us?” You asked innocently. 

“The true power of the force.” 

“Like the dark side?” You tried to sound even more curious. 

“Perhaps.” He nodded, but you could see in his eyes what he was. His eyes had changed with his excitement. Of course, he was at the center of everything. 

Master, Palpatine is the sith

It only took a moment for Anakin to knock on the door. He opened it and smiled at Palpatine, and you felt his force presence push you down onto the red carpet. You let it push you down and hold you there. in a flash of a second everything had changed.

Before Palpatine could react you felt the Jedi storm the room. Anakin killed Palpatine and a strange feeling washed over the room. You reached for Obi-Wan and he let you hold on to his side, placing an arm around your shoulders.

“He was a mother-fucking sith.” Windu groaned. Yoda put his hands over this face. Anakin looked triumphant and gave you a big smile.

Fulfilled my prophecy. Now let's get out of here.

___________

Qui-Gon's force ghost finds Obi-Wan and puts them on the right path.

The Order being stupid and Obi-Wan finally siding with Anakin. them going into exile to learn from Qui-Gon and train you. Family vibes.

Anakin being more and more like your father. His love for you always being open and accessible as you navigate your own journey. Even when you are fighting you can reach out and feel it. When you get older and follow your calling into conflicts you can reach out and feel no matter how far away you are.

Just anything other than what happened in cannon.

Him finally falling for Padme and being anxious about your response to her. Them having the twins and him always refering to you as his eldest daughter.

“You’re late.” Your master growled, gripping you by the shoulders, guiding you into one of the many rooms in the Temple dojo. 

“My apologies, master. I felt disoriented this morning and fell behind in my preparations.”

The man shook his head. “Enough of the excuses, Padawan. I suppose I’ll just have to work you harder and try to instill some sense of discipline in that head of yours since simply waking up on time seems to be a challenging endeavor.”

Your heart sank. 

“Run through your katas until I say you can stop.”

Giving a nod, you did what was asked of you, moving through the standard forms with a practiced fluidity. Forms I through VI came with ease and your master failed to find fault with your positioning and stance. 

His displeasure was still palpable, easily felt through your connection but you had been bonded for enough time to ignore his dissatisfaction. 

“Enough.” He decided.  Shift to VII and its variant.”

Faltering, you looked at your master in bewilderment. “Master, I thought we agreed that I would never–”

“Are you defying me, young one?” The Jedi Master asked coolly, giving you quite the scowl. 

Juyo, otherwise known as Form VII, was steeped in rarity and controversy. Had it been discovered your master had taken to providing you instruction regarding its execution…

The Council would not look favorably upon such action. They were already apprehensive regarding your master and his penchant for indulging in moments of fueled passion and aggression; it was what made him a feared and effective war dog of the Republic, but that reputation certainly came with its own dissent among Council members. 

Taking a deep breath you navigated your choice of words with precision. “Master, please. I am just trying to be careful. You know what Master Windu had to say when he caught us last time. I don’t want to give the Council another reason to call an audience.”

He seemed to consider your words for a moment before doubling down. “Being careful is what could cost you your life, Padawan.” The man sighed, taking a step closer to you. “I think you forget your place. If you will not do all that I say, so be it. But this defiance will cost you.”

Your Master pressed you hard. In the heat of the sparring session your defenses buckled underneath the unrestrained power of your master. With alarming transparency, you could feel in full, how your master poured so much of his more savage emotions into his flurry of attacks. 

If you had not given so much of yourself in the Hall of Endurance the day before, perhaps you would have been on more even footing. But you still bore the wounds of previously failed mock duels; defeat proved to be inevitable. 

“You lack focus!” 

The side of his foot slammed into your ribs, sending you sliding across the floor yet again. On instinct you braced yourself for another strike, curling in on yourself. 

“Get up, Padawan! This is–”

“ENOUGH!” A roaring voice cried.

Council members. You could sense a handful of them swarming the area without needing to raise your head.  Heightened voices and declared threats had your head ringing. Though your mind was disturbed and overwhelmed, you were vaguely aware you had started to cry uncontrollably. 

 Gloved hands slipped under your arms helping you to your feet. “Hey, kid. It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here…”

_______________________________________________

One of the young Healers approached Anakin Skywalker, their expression fraught with worry. 

“Master Skywalker, the padawan…They are refusing to part their robes for a full examination. I'm not sure–”

“It’s alright.” Anakin said, reassuring himself more than the young Jedi Healer. “I’ll see if I can get through to them. Besides, the Council wants an eyewitness account of their current state for official records.”

He was intentional with his steps, making sure the heels of his boots gave off a proper echo so you could hear him coming into the observation room. For the first time in a fair while, Anakin was at a loss for words. 

What could one say in the face of such intentional suffering? 

The investigation pursued by the Council had not moved swiftly enough; had they taken the incident regarding your master’s instruction of Juyo sooner, if they had been more attuned to how your master embraced the identity of being a Republic war dog and how he was grooming you for the same future, perhaps some of your anguish could have been mitigated. But even then, how could no one have noticed the maltreatment and how that man rendered you into something skittish and frightened? 

Surely someone would have sensed something. 

“Where is my master?” You asked, your gaze fixed on the blank wall in front of you. “I can’t feel him anymore…His presence I mean.”

“I believe that’s the council’s doing, padawan. For the time being at least.” He sat next to you on the observation table, granting you enough space to feel somewhat comfortable. “It’s to protect you.”

“Protect me?” You repeated quietly

His heart set a brutal pace as he formulated what he hoped was a fitting response. Anakin needed to focus on the present and what he could help immediately. 

“Young one, I wish there was more I could offer but for now, the healers need to run a scan to check for injuries.” 

Hiding your hands in the sleeves of your robes, you turned to the Master Jedi, eyes reddened and puffy. 

“I–I don’t….” Anakin looked on as you clenched your jaw, trying not to give into the fresh new wave or tears. “Master Skywalker…it’s bad. I don’t want to.”

You were shaking: without even trying Anakin could feel the shame that permeated your very being. Asserting control over his thoughts and worries, he poured much of himself into the living Force in an attempt to provide consolation. 

“Please, Padawan. We can’t help unless you let us.”

Though apprehensive, you allowed Anakin’s presence wash over you and for a few moments you remained silent, letting yourself bask in his sense of tranquility. 

“Okay…I’ll do it.”

He remained present in the room as you undressed, remembering what the Council had asked of him; surprisingly you seemed more placid with Anakin in the room. With your tunics and robes cast aside, he could see the full extent of every physical trauma your master had generously dealt. Bruises in all stages of healing littered your skin, accompanied by lacerations, and most concerning of all: burn marks, clearly made with a lightsaber. 

“Hold still please.” The healer said, finding it hard to look at you properly as they positioned the scanner. “This will only take a second.”

You tried your best to ignore how both the healer and Master Skywalker would exchange worried glances on your sordid account.

_________________________________________

“Skywalker,” Mace Windu acknowledged a waiting Anakin as he exited the Council chambers, “there will be an initial hearing concerning the padawan in a few days time. Can this not wait until then?”

“With all due respect, I don’t think it can.” Anakin said, anxiously clicking his tongue. “I have spent the last few hours with a child that has been torn apart! I don’t think they can wait another hour, much less a few more days to have their fate decided by the Council.”

Master Windu could understand young Skywalker’s insistence and passion, but realistically, there was only so much that could be done given the sensitivity of the situation. Proceedings and established practices did need to be honored in order to discern the legal truth of the matter. 

“You know as well as I that there is not much that can be done until the trial. Until then the Temple can provide care for all their injuries of both body and mind.”

Anakin nodded. “Yes, but that’s not–that’s not enough!”

Though he could feel where the conversation was going, Master Windu still pressed. 

“What are you suggesting, Skywalker?”

The young knight looked at him squarely, not breaking eye contact. “Emergency permission. To take them on as my padawan.”

“That is–”

“That is perfectly acceptable? I agree. The young one has responded to me willingly. With their master-padawan bond severed, I can feel their vulnerability, their fear and pain! The evidence against their master is undeniable. Starting the transition to a new master and providing them with that stability is crucial. And it’s not as if I have an apprentice to speak of.”

He spoke the truth, albeit in his own way. Master Windu would need to call yet another emergency meeting to consider Skywalker’s request, but as far as he himself was concerned, there was no better option given the dire circumstances. 

Besides, having Anakin offer the padawan support during this time was more than reasonable. The Temple as a whole had already failed them once.