Title: First Impressions

Author: Eloy Brightdreamer/Melody Kellogg

Date Started: 9/27/99

Rating: PG

Setting: 3-4 years pre-TPM

Category: Hurt/Comfort, drama.

Archive: Just ask!

Disclaimer: Star Wars and its characters belong to George Lucas, LucasFilm LTD, and 20^th Century Fox. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. Eloy Brightdreamer and her planet belong to me...if you want to use them, ask me first. No money was made by me from this story.

Summary: Obi-Wan falls ill on a dangerous mission and is cared for by a stranger.

Author's Note: This began as a response to a challenge to see who could "whump" Obi-Wan the most without killing him, but it's turned into a lot longer story than I originally planned. It might even turn into a series. :)

Part 1

I walked alone in the streets of Elah, the small planet Adnarim's biggest city. My way was lit only by the shadowy lights emanating from the doors and half-lit signs of the cantinas, casinos, and shabby restaurants lining the narrow street. Raucous noises and loud music assaulted my ears while odors I didn't even want to think about burned my nostrils. The air seemed heavy, but an occasional frosty breeze blew around the squat buildings, scattering trash and whipping my long brown hair into my face. My friends whom I had just left had offered to walk me home, but I preferred to go alone. Even though this was a tough area, I wasn't afraid. At nearly 6' tall, wearing a long black cloak, dark green catsuit, and knee-high silver boots, I was a pretty imposing figure, even for a girl. And, as always, I wore my black leather blaster belt with my custom-made silver Correllian S-350 in plain view. Not many people would mess with me. As I turned down a dimly-lit alley, I suddenly sensed that something was wrong. Looking around, I noticed a figure huddled beside a building, next to some refuse cans. Normally, I would have dismissed it as just another drunken bum, but something seemed different about this person. As I came closer, I saw that it was a man, wearing a dark brown cloak wrapped tightly around his body. Cautiously, I knelt down next to him and shook his shoulder gently. "Hey, you OK?" I asked.

He lifted his head and looked at me with unfocused eyes. "N-no..." he moaned. I drew in a sharp breath as I noticed the small braid behind his right ear. I had made a hobby of knowing everything I could about the Jedi, so I instantly recognized that this man was a Jedi apprentice.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. "Are you hurt?"

"Don't feel good...so cold..."

I reached out and touched his forehead, then quickly pulled it back, alarmed. He was burning up with fever.

"Hey, we'd better get you home," I said. "Where are you staying?"

"I-I don't...I can't..." he replied weakly, his head lolling forward again.

"Hey, stay with me!" I shook him again. "What's your name?" I asked. His only answer was a soft moan. I looked around quickly for someone who might be able to help, but the alley was deserted. Okay, fine, I thought, I'll take him back to my place. I can't just leave him out here alone, sick and lost. Somehow I got him up and on his feet, with his arm slung over my shoulders for support. I half-carried him out to the main street, where I hailed a hover-cab. During the ride to my apartment, he lay curled up in the back seat with his head pillowed in my lap, shivering despite the warm air inside the taxi.

Once back home, I laid him down in my bed, and removed his cloak, boots and outer tunic. Even though I covered him with every blanket I could find, he still shook uncontrollably. Placing my hand on his forehead, I was shocked at the fever. I had to get his temperature down. I went to the kitchen and got a bowl of ice water and a small cloth. Returning to the bedroom, I pulled up a chair and started bathing his face with the cold water. While doing this, I realized that he was quite handsome, even with a face flushed by fever. He looked to be about my age, twenty or so. After a short while, his eyes fluttered open and he groaned softly. "Where am I?" he asked faintly.

"You're in my apartment," I said.

Slowly, his blue-grey eyes focused on me. "Who are you?"

"I'm Eloy Brightdreamer," I replied. "What's your name?"

"Obi-Wan Ke..." he began, then suddenly sat up and clutched at his stomach. "Ohh... I'm going to be sick..." he moaned, leaning over the side of the bed. I quickly grabbed the small waste container by my chair and handed it to him, then held his braid back out of the way and rubbed his back as he threw up. After a few horrible minutes, he fell weakly back onto the pillows.

"Feel better?" I asked, taking the trash can from him.

"A little," he replied quietly, then his eyes closed again as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

I stayed up the rest of the night with him, washing his face and neck with a cool cloth, listening to his delirious ranting, and trying to get him to drink small sips of water during his few moments of lucidity. Nothing seemed to help. I lost count of how many times he vomited--his stomach rejected anything more than a tiny bit of water. I tried again and again to find out why he was here, where he was staying, and who he was with, but he just seemed confused and disoriented every time I asked a question. He tossed and turned feverishly, moaning and rambling incoherently. I occasionally caught a few words; "Qui-Gon," "Jedi," and several phrases which I took to be from the Jedi Code. I had no idea who or what Qui-Gon was, though. I was used to being in control of any situation, but sitting by the bed, watching him shiver and writhe in pain, I felt more helpless than I ever had in my life.

As the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room, I awoke with a start. I had fallen asleep sitting in my chair, my head down on the bed beside the Jedi apprentice. I looked closely at him. He was so pale and still that I had a moment of panic until I saw that he was breathing. Gently, I laid the back of my hand against his cheek, then sighed in relief. The fever had broken; he was sleeping peacefully, his hair and clothes soaked with sweat. I let my hand linger on his face a moment more. He looked so serene, so vulnerable, so... I quickly pulled away, stood up, and began pacing the room. What the hell are you doing, Eloy? I thought. You don't even know him. Don't get infatuated. I ran my fingers through my hair. Maybe it's because he's the first Jedi you've ever met... A giant yawn caught me by surprise. I was more tired than I had thought. Stiff and sore, I curled up on the carpet next to the bed, using my cloak for a blanket. Exhausted from the long night, I quickly drifted back off into sleep.

I woke up a few hours later when I heard Obi-Wan stirring about. I got up and climbed back into the chair. "How're you feeling?" I asked, seeing that he was awake.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Shaky, but much better," he replied. He coughed. "Thirsty..."

I helped him sit up, then held the glass of water to his lips. Grabbing it, he started gulping the cool liquid eagerly. "Whoa, take it easy," I said, pulling the cup away from him. "Let's see if you can keep that down, okay?" He nodded and lay back on the pillows.

"Do you have a comlink?" he asked. "I need to contact Master Qui-Gon."

"Sure," I replied, walking to my dresser and pulling my portable com-panel out of the top drawer. "Who's Qui-Gon?" I inquired, moving back toward the bed. "You called out that name several times last night."

"Qui-Gon Jinn is a Jedi Master, and I'm his Padawan...uh...his apprentice."

"I know what a Padawan is," I retorted. "Adnarim may be small, but we're not totally out of touch."

"Sorry...I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's okay, no offense taken." I handed him the com-panel, then helped him to sit up with a few pillows behind his back. "Are you hungry at all?" I asked. "I can get you some soup if you think your stomach can handle it."

"I am a little hungry," he admitted. I smiled at him and went into the kitchen.

When I returned bearing a tray with a bowl of hot topato soup, Obi-Wan appeared to be sleeping again. I quietly turned to leave, but was stopped by his voice. "I'm not asleep," he said. "I was just meditating, trying to heal a little."

"Did you talk to Qui-Gon?" I asked, sitting down and placing the tray in his lap.

He shook his head. "No, he wasn't answering. He might still be asleep...I'll try again later." He reached for the spoon on the tray, but I stopped him when I noticed that his hand was still trembling visibly.

"Here, let me," I said, taking the spoon. As I began feeding him the soup, I said, "You never told me your full name last night."

"It's Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Kenobi...and you're a Jedi apprentice, right?"

"That's right."

"I thought Jedi weren't supposed to get sick."

He smiled slightly. "Self-healing has never been my strong point," he said ruefully, then frowned. "I don't know what happened last night, though. I couldn't even concentrate enough to go into a healing trance."

"I can understand that," I said, spooning another bite of soup into his mouth. "You had a high fever, and you were delirious most of the time."

"Yes, but I don't understand how I got that way. Whatever illness I had, I should have been able to catch it before it got that bad. I don't even remember how I got here."

"Well, I found you out in an alley near the Twilight Palace cantina. What's the last thing you remember before that?"

He took a deep breath. "Qui-Gon and I were called in to mediate the dispute between the governors of Adnarim and Elis...you've heard about it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, the Elisians want to take over all the shipping in and out of the D'wan system. It's pretty bad, from what I've heard...almost ready to start a civil war."

"I was at a diplomatic dinner with both envoys at the embassy. I started feeling a little dizzy, so I went outside to get some fresh air...the next thing I remember, I woke up here."

"The embassy is only a short walk from the Twilight Palace...that explains how you got there, but not why you were sick."

"I'll try to remember..." He closed his eyes and seemed to sink deep within himself. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know what happened," he sighed. "I'm going to try to contact Qui-Gon again." I took the tray off his lap as he settled deeper into the pillows and closed his eyes. I watched as a look of concentration, then concern, came over his face. Suddenly, he gasped and sat up straight. "Eloy, something's happened...Qui-Gon's in trouble!"

I looked at Obi-Wan in shock. "What happened? How can you tell?"

"I can sense him, but just barely. He's not responding...I've got to find him!" He shoved the blankets out of the way and started to get out of the bed. As soon as he stood up, he sat down again quickly, his face white.

"You're not in any shape to go anywhere," I said firmly, pushing him back onto the pillows. "I'll go see what I can find out. I've got some friends who might be able to help..."

"No!" Obi-Wan blurted out, sitting up again. "I'm alright, really." He looked up at me pleadingly. "I've got to go...I can't just lie around here when he might be hurt...or worse." I saw the determination in his intense blue-grey eyes and knew that even if I left him here, he wouldn't stay.

"All right," I sighed. "Let's go."

* * * * *

We decided that the best place to start would be the Jedi's quarters at the embassy. After sneaking in the back door, we made our way up a service staircase to the third floor. When we reached the top, Obi-Wan stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Looking at his flushed face and over-bright eyes, I could tell that his fever had returned. I reached out to support him, but he waved me away and continued on toward his room. I shook my head. This is insane. I must be losing my mind. I'm here with a stubborn Jedi who's so sick he can hardly walk, and we're heading into Sith-knows-what kind of danger...why the hell am I doing this, anyway? I sighed and hurried to catch up with Obi-Wan. I've read too many Jedi adventure novels.

When we reached the guest quarters, Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber before pushing open the already-ajar door. Blaster ready, I followed him in and gasped in shock. The room looked as though a small war had been fought in it. Black blaster marks scored the walls and the overturned furniture, the windows were broken, and bloody smears on the floor indicated where several people had been dragged out. Obi-Wan moved slowly through the room as if in a daze. He stooped and picked up something from the floor. I saw that it was another lightsaber. "He's not here," he finally murmured, clipping the saber onto his belt.

"Doesn't take a Jedi to figure that out," I said sarcastically, then immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry...this just kinda shocked me."

"It's okay," Obi-Wan replied, then started toward the door. "He's here, in the building. We can--oh..." His sentence cut short by a soft gasp of pain, he sat down suddenly on one of the few upright chairs, his arms wrapped around his stomach. I hurried over and knelt next to him.

"Whoa, take it easy!" I said, placing my hand on his knee. "Are you alright?" He nodded, his lips pressed tightly together and his breathing quick and shallow. "You don't look so good," I continued. "We should go back..."

"No!" he said sharply. "We're close, I know we are. I'll be alright." He stood up, swaying slightly. I jumped up from the floor, grabbed his arm, and slung it across my shoulders. He didn't refuse my help this time, and leaned heavily on me as we made our way out of the destroyed room.

"This is crazy," I muttered under my breath. "Can you sense Qui-Gon?" I asked, louder.

"Yes," he replied. "He's unconscious, but I can still feel his presence. We're close...this way!"

Following Obi-Wan's Jedi senses, we eventually came to a locked door in the basement. Obi-Wan quickly cut the latch with his lightsaber and we burst into a small cell. A man lay on a cot on the far side of the room. "Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, rushing to his side. As I moved closer, I noticed a small metal device on Qui-Gon's forehead. Tiny lights blinked red and green on it. I quickly pulled it off.

"That must have been what was keeping him unconscious," I said.

"Come on, wake up," Obi-Wan muttered, touching his master's temple. I looked around, feeling apprehensive.

"This is too easy. I wonder where the guards are..." My question was answered in the next instant as five armed men stormed into the room.

I leaped to my feet, immediately reaching for my blaster. Horrified, I realized that I had left it back in the Jedis' destroyed room. Cursing myself for my stupidity, I began to back slowly toward the far wall. Obi-Wan stood up more slowly and placed himself in front of me, igniting his lightsaber. Although his pale face showed nothing more than grim determination, I saw that he was wavering a bit on his feet, and his lightsaber was trembling as he held it in a white-knuckled grip. Neither he nor the guards made a move toward each other. As the tension mounted toward a climax, the door slid open again and admitted a richly-robed, balding, smug-faced little man. I recognized him as the Elisian ambassador; his picture had been all over the holonet for the past few weeks. As his beady eyes surveyed the room, a sinister grin spread across his face. Waving his hand at the guards in a gesture of dismissal, he let out an unpleasant chuckle. "I don't think these will be any trouble," he said in a nasal voice, pointing a small blaster at us.

"Don't make assumptions, Ambassador Crilan," Obi-Wan said, stepping toward him. "What is the meaning of all this?"

"I don't see the point in keeping anything from you, young Jedi," the ambassador sneered. "Since you're about to die anyway..."

"What!" I laughed. "You think you can kill a Jedi with that little blaster..."

Crilan chuckled again, interrupting me. "Ah, but here's the beauty of it, my dear: I don't have to kill him. The poison that was given to him last night will do that quite well."

"Poison..." Obi-Wan choked out.

"Yes! Quite ingenious, really. It acts like a case of Leinad Flu at first-I trust you've already experienced that stage-then the victim appears to get better, but then in a few hours the poison really takes hold and you're dead within a day."

As if in response to these words, Obi-Wan doubled over with a sharp cry of pain, his lightsaber clattering uselessly to the ground. I jumped forward, caught him as he fell and lowered him to the floor as gently as I could. He curled up into a ball, then lay very, very still. I checked to see that he was still breathing, then jumped up to face Crilan, anger blurring my vision. "Why?" I yelled.

"Be careful, my dear, you don't have to die too," he said, aiming his blaster at me. "There are some things that we cannot have the Jedi meddling with. We were about to start a war with your planet...and war can be very profitable for those who know..."

"War!" I screamed, my anger a raging inferno. "You did all this so you could start a war!" I took another step toward him, not caring what happened. Suddenly, I felt Obi-Wan's lightsaber hit my open hand. Unthinking, I grasped it and pressed the red ignition button. I saw the shock on the ambassador's face as I slashed him in half diagonally from hip to shoulder. Not stopping to think about what I had just done, I turned the blade off and rushed back to Obi-Wan's side. "Come on, come on!" I exclaimed, shaking him non too gently. Unable to rouse him, I moved to the older Jedi Master. "Qui-Gon!" I cried in panic, grabbing his shoulders. To my great relief, he opened his eyes and sat up, instantly alert. His eyes quickly scanned the room, taking in me, the dead ambassador, and finally, his apprentice's unmoving form.

"What happened here?" he asked, jumping out of bed and kneeling by Obi-Wan. He looked back at me. "Who are you?"

"I'm Eloy Brightdreamer...I brought Obi-Wan here...he's been poisoned by Crilan...we've got to get out of here!" My words tumbled out in a hysterical rush. Qui-Gon looked at me intensely for a short moment, then nodded and turned back to his apprentice. Obi-Wan stirred and moaned as Qui-Gon touched his shoulder. The Jedi master looked back at me.

"Our ship is in the landing bay next to the embassy," he stated. "If we can get to it, I'm sure it wouldn't be too much trouble to take off."

"There'll be guards outside this room," I said as he again tried to rouse Obi-Wan. "They left because Crilan told them to, but they wouldn't have gone far. And I don't think he's in any shape to fight," I added as Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes.

"Can you walk, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, helping him sit up.

"I-I'll try," Obi-Wan replied weakly, then gave a faint smile. "Master Yoda would kill me for saying that." He handed Qui-Gon the lightsaber we'd found. "Here, Master, you might want this."

"Oh, and here's yours," I said, giving him back his own saber. "I never would have been able to get Crilan if you hadn't thrown it to me."

Obi-Wan looked at me strangely. "Eloy...I didn't throw the lightsaber..."

"We can discuss this later," Qui-Gon interrupted. "Right now we've got to get to our ship." He and I pulled Obi-Wan to his feet, then we headed for the door, Qui-Gon leading, with me supporting the ill Padawan. The Jedi Master must have sensed how vulnerable I felt without a weapon, because he stooped down, picked up the dead ambassador's small blaster, and handed it to me.

I was right-as soon as we stepped cautiously outside, blaster bolts began to whistle past us. Splinters erupted from the walls as Qui-Gon quickly stepped into the middle of the hallway, easily deflecting the red streaks of energy. I managed to get a few shots off with the tiny blaster before he dispatched the guards with a few well-aimed deflected beams.

The rest of the way to the landing bay was fairly clear. I surmised that only Crilan's personal guards had been attacking us, otherwise our escape would have been much more difficult. Qui-Gon helped me support his sick Padawan most of the way, and easily put out of commission the few guards we encountered. Soon, the small Republic transport was within our sights, guarded only by two simple-looking men at the boarding ramp. Qui-Gon calmly strode up to them, with his apprentice and me following more slowly behind. I was very worried about Obi-Wan. He was barely able to walk, he was shaking constantly, and I could feel the waves of heat radiating off his body, even through his thick Jedi robes. Hang on, we're almost there.

As Qui-Gon approached the guards, they drew their weapons, but didn't shoot. "Where d'ya think you're goin'?" one of them sneered.

"We are going to leave," Qui-Gon said calmly, waving his hand almost imperceptibly.

"You're going to leave," the guard replied.

"You are going to go give us clearance to take off. No one will fire on us."

"I'm going to go give you clearance to take off," the guard intoned. "No one will fire on you." Both watchmen turned as one and walked toward the control booth on the far side of the landing platform.

Qui-Gon and I half-carried the barely-conscious Padawan up the ramp and into the transport's tiny medbay. After we laid him down in the small bunk, Qui-Gon turned to me. "Thank you for your help, Eloy. You should leave now."

I shook my head. "No, I'm too involved. I killed the ambassador...do you think I'll be able to live here now?"

He nodded in understanding. "Then can you pilot this ship?"

"No, I've never flown in my life."

"All right," he sighed. "Stay with Obi-Wan while I take off." He lay his hand on his apprentice's shoulder for a moment, then turned to leave. "Try to keep him conscious," he said as he walked out the door.

Easier said than done, I thought, kneeling down by the bunk. "Hey, c'mon, stay with me," I whispered as the first tremors of the engines igniting rumbled through the room.

"I'm so tired,"Obi-Wan moaned. "Want to sleep."

"Just stay awake a little while longer, OK?" I pulled a blanket over his shivering body, then brushed my hand lightly across his hot forehead. I chuckled softly. "Hey, this seems like a familiar situation, doesn't it?"

He managed a weak smile. "Great way to make a first impression..." His sentence trailed off into a fit of coughing. "Can't... breathe..." he gasped, a small trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. I quickly jumped up and rummaged through the medbay's cabinet until I found an oxygen mask. Kneeling next to the bed, I placed it over his nose and mouth as his eyes slipped shut again. I shook him, trying to be gentle.

"You can't die on me now!" I cried. "Not after we've made it this far." Frustrated, I pounded my fist on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, I saw a tear fall onto the pillow next to Obi-Wan. Angrily, I swiped my hand across my eyes, surprised at the wetness there. I stood up and paced the floor restlessly as I felt the acceleration of the ship entering hyperspace. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor, then Qui-Gon burst in the door and rushed to his Padawan's side.

"Where are we going?" I asked the Jedi Master as he knelt by the bunk.

"To Coruscant," he replied. "The healers at the temple will be able to help him more than I can."

"How long till we get there?"

"About ten hours."

"Ten hours?" I exclaimed in shock. "He'll never make it. The ambassador said the poison would kill him within a day."

Qui-Gon sighed. "I'm going to try to put him in a healing trance, but he's so weak I don't know if it'll do much good."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The Jedi gave me an odd look, then opened his mouth as if to say something, but he seemed to change his mind. He shook his head. "No, there is nothing more you can do."

Something was nagging at the back of my mind... something I'd read, or heard... suddenly I remembered. "There is something I can do," I said, moving back toward the bunk. "I've read about it. You can link me to him in a trance and he'll share my strength–or something like that. I know it works better with two Jedi, but I know you can do this even though I'm not one."

He shook his head again. "It's too dangerous. I couldn't ask you..."

"You know this is the only way," I interrupted. "You've got to pilot this ship–what if something goes wrong? I don't know anything about starships. And once we reach Coruscant you've got to land this thing. You can't be tied up back here, and Obi-Wan can't survive on his own. I got him all the way here and I'm not going to give up and let him die! I won't quit, not when there's something I can do." I squeezed into the small bunk beside Obi-Wan, my back to the wall. "Now, are you gonna do this or not?"

With a look of resignation, Qui-Gon placed his hand on his Padawan's forehead. "There is great risk in this for you," he said. "I may not be able to break the bond if his condition worsens much more. If he dies while the two of you are linked, you'll die as well."

I stared at the ceiling for a moment. Why are you doing this? I asked myself yet again. You don't have to risk your life for someone you've just met. There is something about him, though...something that makes you not want to give up on him. I looked back up at the Jedi Master. "Go for it."

I closed my eyes as I felt the pressure of his large hand on my hair. I felt sleepy, then a sensation of falling, an intense flash of pain, then–nothing.

Faint voices, murmuring in my ears. The quiet bip...bip...bip of some sort of medical equipment. Soft pillows under my head, a warm blanket over my body. I woke up slowly in what I assumed was the medical center of the Jedi temple. Turning my head, I saw Qui-Gon sitting by my bed.

"We made it?" I asked, my throat hoarse.

"Yes, we did," the Jedi replied, handing me a small glass. I sat up and took a sip of the water. "Obi-Wan–-how is he?"

Qui-Gon smiled for the first time since I'd met him. "He's going to be fine–thanks to you. He's sleeping in the next room. I was just going back to see him, but I thought I'd check on you first." He stood up to leave. "Is there anything you want me to tell him?"

I lay back down on the bed. "Tell him... that he owes me one." The tall Jedi smiled once more before leaving the room. As I drifted back off to sleep, I couldn't shake the feeling that although one adventure had just ended, it was only the beginning of something that would change my life forever.

The End?

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