Chapter Text
Epi stood a few meters back from the medbay’s double doors, pressing a mask down over her nose while she waited for her patient to arrive. The report that Sym had given had been a doozy, but then again, it was nearly three in the morning. She’d worked night shift long enough to not trust the witching hour.
Kal was standing next to her, arms crossed over his chest. She’d just finished drawing up meds, eyes still slightly weary from what had been a peaceful slumber in the call room. Behind the both of them were Angi, Lys, and Zap, preparing the room for this poor soul’s arrival.
She found herself wishing for another sip of caf as she shared a glance with Kal, stretching her already sweaty, nitrile gloved hands. The wait was always the worst part. Just as she was about to turn to Kal and make a joke about the normally expedient Sym somehow falling into the trash compactor, the arrival alarm buzzed, the doors pulled open, and Sym and Nye pushed in a pale, half-lidded, awful looking General Kenobi with a CPAP mask strapped to his face.
Epi immediately jumped into action, helping them navigate the stretcher towards the waiting room. Sym started to rattle off her report. “This is General Kenobi, thirty-five year old human male. Called for help complaining of dyspnea, reported being sick with increasing severity of symptoms. Resps thirty-two, satting at eight-three, temp is 39.1, heart-rate one twenty six, and pressure is about ninety over sixty on HUD. GCS started at 14, following commands, spontaneous eye opening, but a little confused, fell to about an 11 during transport: eyes were only really open if we were talking to him, inappropriate words, would move to localized pain but not much else .” As she spoke, she tore the straps off his body. “Scan showed generalized bilateral lung inflammation, rales on auscultation, so likely pneumonia. BGL was normal.” She paused her report, counting down loudly so they could move Kenobi to the bed. “Started him on O2, but it didn’t bump his sats at all, so we switched to CPAP. He’s got a 20 in his left AC.”
Epi quickly went over all the information, making sure it was all understood before anyone left the room. “Thanks, Sym,” she said as she and Nye moved towards the door, then began to take in Kenobi’s condition for herself. He was breathing quickly, chest heaving up and down. His skin was clammy, and his fingers were still cyanotic. Angi was keying in his monitoring bracelet to the display, rattling off his vitals as they appeared. They hadn’t improved from the medic’s report. If anything, they’d gotten worse.
“Alright,” Epi started, eyes narrow. “Let’s get him prepped for intubation. Angi, 500ml saline bolus, then another line if you can. I’m gonna grab a chest scan. And Lys, let’s get a page into forward CCU.” She reached up for the ceiling-mounted scanner.
“On it!” Kal had already positioned herself by Kenobi’s head, while Zap started to lay out the intubation equipment behind her. “You with me, general?” She shouted, then ground her knuckles into Kenobi’s sternum, who shied away, muttering a brief, breathy complaint as he slowly pulled his eyes open. “GCS is a ten.”
That was less than ideal. While Epi quickly programmed the scanner, Kal started to prepare Kenobi for intubation. She surveyed his face and neck as he tilted Kenobi’s head back, fingers measuring his jaw as she explained what was happening in a soft voice, the words the same as those he’d said to a hundred other vode. “You’re going to start feeling pretty tired soon; don’t fight it, okay? We’re just gonna give you some help breathing now. You’ve got a good team here.”
He kept a hand on Kenobi’s shoulder as he looked over to Angi, asking if he’d gotten the line in. Epi pushed the start button on the scan, letting the blue beam pass over his thorax. After a beat, the results flashed on the screen: inconclusive.
“Anything?” Kal asked.
“Nope.” She shook her head as she paged through the scan. Bilateral lung infiltrates, though they were spread everywhere, in an awkward, nonsensical pattern. It didn’t really look like any chest infection she’d ever seen before, but there was enough bright white glow that it was scary enough. “I’m going to start an arterial line, Angi, go ahead and pull a CBC and blood cultures, then after I’m done we’ll need an ABG too.”
While she tore open the arterial line kit, Kal quickly unfastened the CPAP mask’s straps, pulling it away from his face before reaching for the resuscitator. “I’m just gonna support your breathing. Once we’re ready, we’ll get you off to sleep.”
Kenobi didn’t really respond, eyes already closed. He was deteriorating fast. Before he pressed the resuscitator to his face, he looked over Kenobi’s neck and jaw, then peered into Kenobi’s mouth, her last check for potential new difficulties. She’d tubed Kenobi before, though he’d been much easier to preoxygenate the last time. Zap looked over to her. “Good with a direct 4 blade and a size 8?”
“Yep, perfect,” Kal nodded, checking once more that everything would be where he needed it. There was nothing else to wait for. “Let’s get started, everyone else try to keep it down.”
Epi finished placing the arterial line, securing it in place with a transparent dressing while Kal rechecked the Jedi-adjusted doses of vinchamine and imoblin with Zap before he gave them. Kenobi was only becoming more distant. Kal’s bagging was keeping him from dropping any lower, but his sats were still hovering around the low eighties.
“You might feel a slight burning sensation in your arm, those are the meds,” Kal explained as Zap began to slowly push the vinchamine. He was still dutifully pushing air into Kenobi’s lungs, one hand on the bag and the other curled around Kenobi’s jaw. “You’re gonna start feeling very tired soon, and that’s okay. Don’t fight it, we’ll take care of you.”
“Vincha’s in,” Zap announced.
After a few minutes, Kenobi’s eyes started to glaze over, and eventually fell away to the sides. Kal pulled his head back, resuscitator sealed over his face, and started to manually push air into his lungs. Once the first syringe was empty, he pushed the paralytic. After a minute or so of waiting and bagging, Kal let the resuscitator fall to the side and reached for the laryngoscope.
Motions efficient and practiced, he held Kenobi’s head back as Zap scissored his mouth open, then swept his tongue out of the way and flexed the scope, quickly locating his cords. He threaded the tube down into his trachea, carefully passing it through the cords, quickly hooking it up the resuscitator while Zap inflated the cuff.
“Twenty at the lips,” he announced, watching Kenobi’s chest rise and fall as the tube protruding from his lips became cloudy with mist.
“And 5ml in balloon,” Zap added as he removed the syringe.
Kal continued to gently squeeze the resuscitator's bag while Zap secured the tube, clicking the holder around it. The two switched out with bagging once the tube was locked into place so Kal could adjust the vent settings for Kenobi’s condition. After Kenobi was swapped onto the vent, machine hissing as it pushed air into Kenobi’s lungs, Kal then moved to starting the infusions of analgesia and sedatives, making sure that Keenobi would stay unconscious. “Could I get a repeat ABG?”
Epi nodded, looking at Angi again, who had just passed Epi the results of the first one. “I’m going to get a scan too.” She reached up for the scanner again.
Zap was tapping Kenobi’s eyes shut, while Kal prepared to insert an NG tube. “Sounds great. Lys, can you go check in with forward CCU?”
Lys nodded, reaching for the commlink. While Kal threaded the tube into Kenobi’s nostril and down his throat, Angi grabbed his wrist, wiping the arterial line’s hub before pushing the instapen in. Bright red blood trickled through the line while it gathered a sample. After a moment, the instapen chimed, and Angi quickly handed the holoreadout to Epi.
Eventually, Lys clicked off the comm. “Forward CCU is about twenty minutes out. General Alla’zee is will meet us here with a few other medics.” Lys was quiet for a moment. “She said she ‘had a bad feeling about this.’”
Epi swallowed at that. Those were words she never wanted to hear. They all knew that Kenobi was in bad shape; they could just take a look at the bright, flashing red numbers on the monitor, but a jetii with a bad feeling?
This, if it wasn’t already, was going to be a mess.
***
Epi’s eyes were weary as she watched over Kenobi from the hallway, heart longing for the caf machine. A break wasn’t an option of course, not with Kenobi’s condition, but she was allowed to dream: the sound of it gurgling and groaning at it slowly pissed the bitter, brown, as highly-caffeinated-as-possible liquid out into the pot would’ve been like music to her ears.
She sighed, checking her chrono. General Alla’zee was theoretically due any minute now, but the Negotiator was large and the forward medbay was busy. Epi wouldn’t be surprised if she’d been delayed, though it was still unfortunate.
Kenobi was only just hanging on. Kal seemed to have figured out a vent setting that was keeping his head above water, but if whatever the kriff was wrong with him continued to worsen as aggressively as it had, she didn’t know if they’d be able to keep it that way. Honestly, his condition was absolutely mystifying to her. Maybe the jetii would be able to shed some light on it.
Finally, Kal appeared beside her, offering her Thermajug like a holy artefact. Thank the force. They shared a grim look.
“General’s here,” he said, words clipped.
Just in time. Naturally. “Mmm, got’cha.” She dejectedly set the Thermajug down on a countertop.
Kal chuckled drily. “I’m sure your caf will be here after,” she joked, turning to follow Epi towards Kenobi’s bed.
Alla’zee had just come through the doors, her teal Jedi scrubs and warm brown Mirialan veil sticking out against the industrial monotones of the aft medbay. A complement of clone medics were behind her, to assist with the likely transfer. Epi and Kal quickly picked up their pace to meet them towards the door.
“Good evening, Lieutenant Epi,” she nodded, graceful as always. “And you as well, Sergeant Kal. What’ve we got?”
Epi brought up Kenobi’s chart on her datapad as they walked and talked down the hallway, heading towards the negative pressure room he’d been moved into. “General Kenobi, 36 year old human male. Brought in at 0200 by the response team, chief complaint was severe difficulty breathing. CPAP wasn’t able to get him satting above an eighty three, chest scan showed bilateral infiltrates, and during transport his GCS had dropped from a fourteen to a ten. I can show you the scan here” —he passed the datapad to the Jedi, scan already pulled up— “The pattern is strange. Doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen before. He’s recently returned from a mission on an unknown planet.”
Epi sighed, looking to Kal. He shook his head. “He was diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia yesterday evening, around 1700. The insidious onset is highly atypical; we’re treating it as pneumonia but we’ve sent blood and sputum cultures to pathology. We’ve started him on broad spectrums: bushidnir and madapacilin, for gram negative coverage. Until then, we’ve been focusing on supportive care. He’s been intubated, for refractory hypoxia and airway protection, analgesia with symoxin, sedation with hypnocane. You arrived before RT did, but we’ve been targeting tidal volumes of 360ml and PEEP based on FiO2 requirements, using spARDSnet. We’ve got a central line in, norepinephrine is being given for blood pressure.”
Alla’zee recapped the report she’d received from both medics, closing Kenobi’s chest scan on the datapad to look through his chart for herself. Her eyebrows furrowed, face tight. “It’s definitely highly aggressive. Strange.”
The group came to a stop outside of Kenobi’s room, looking at him through the double thick transparisteel. He was lying limply in bed, muscles slack, tubes protruding from his face. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like this; Epi had seen Kenobi in a lot of bad states before, it was part of her job, but this one seemed to take something out of her.
Next to her, General Alla’zee shifted. “Do you know where he was, Lieutenant?”
Epi shook her head. “No ma’am.”
“Of course,” she shook her head. “I felt a change in the Force as soon as he boarded the ship. Something had become… shadowed. Now that I’m here, it’s very clear it’s emanating from him. I’m concerned he may have come into contact with some sort of dark side artifact.”
Force osik. Of course. That was typically Tally’s job, but even then, this probably would’ve been out of his depth. Beside her, Kal raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen this before, ma’am?”
Alla’zee sighed. “No, not in person, though all healers are taught some dark side pathology.” She paused, rolling her shoulders. “I can feel it, the shadow, in him. It’s only growing.”
Epi didn’t know much about the Force. Hells, even that would’ve been an overstatement. But she doubted that “the dark side,” whatever the osik that was, was something antibiotics or Kenobi’s immune system could fight. She looked to General Alla’zee. “If it keeps progressing like it has been, then we won’t be able to keep him oxygenated for much longer, not with only a vent.”
She shook her head. “No, and the treatment typically prescribed for dark side conditions like these is usually very focused, long term meditation. We could try to rouse him, but I doubt he’d be able to meditate effectively. And the amount of energy it’d take to do that…” Alla’zee stepped back from the window.
“It’s just not an option,” Kal said solemnly.
Alla’zee hummed in agreement, scrubbing her face. A beat of silence stretched out between them. “I’ll contact the Halls, see if anyone more specialized than I am has any ideas,” she said, finally. “Force healing is an option here. There was a study done at the temple about four years ago which showed that Force healing reduced mortality and hastened recovery in patients with severe ARDS. Because meditation isn’t really an option here, it could also help combat whatever entity has infested his lungs, but that’s not certain.” Her fingers drummed on her collarbone. “Either way, the scans have been showing a lot of generalized inflammation and alveolar damage, so his lungs are being physically affected by the dark side presence. It’s not just stealing oxygen, or something like that. Even if the healing doesn’t totally remove the dark side presence, it could buy him some time, until we can get him back to the temple.”
Epi nodded. “It’s worth a try then, definitely.” She gazed at Kenobi’s sedated, ventilated body, splayed out on a medibed and covered in wires and tubes. “It might be the only option we have.”
***
Aurori Alla’zee peered through the transparisteel at Kenobi’s body as she garbed up, tying her mask behind her head before donning the unbelievably insulating yellow isolation gown and pulling the sleeves over her gloves. The feeling of dread had only grown the closer she’d gotten to Kenobi, a spectre of darkness growing around his normally vibrant Force signature.
It wasn’t like anything she had ever felt before. She was a healer, kept sequestered away from the front lines. She’d never been particularly close to any Sith before, and even then, Dooku and Ventress’s signatures were dim and shaded, they still felt alive. The Force moved through all living beings, no matter their alignment. There was always something there, no matter how faint or concealed.
This wasn’t like that. There was no glimmer of light within whatever had infected Kenobi. It had to have been some sort of dark side construct. A shiver ran down her spine. There hadn’t been a Sith powerful enough to create something like that in ages. Wherever Kenobi had been, it had to have a Force history stretching back eons.
After another moment to collect herself, she pressed the button on the antechamber’s wall. The door to Kenobi’s room slid open, a rush of cool air brushing over her face as she entered. Through the window, she could see Epi and Kal still standing in the hallway, both their arms crossed over the GAR regulation grey scrub shirts, brows both furrowed. She nodded at them as she approached Kenobi’s bed, trying to ease their concern.
“It’s healer Alla’zee,” she introduced, narrating her actions at Obi-Wan’s unconscious body. “I’m going to uncover your chest now.”
Hands moving efficiently, she pulled down the blanket down to his waist, then started to unbutton the snaps at the shoulders of his hospital gown to expose his bare skin. Her eyes took in the telemetry monitor stuck to his left chest, and the central line lumens that protruded from under his left collarbone, pumping pressors into his bloodstream.
“Just gonna touch now,” she warned, lowering her hands onto the sides of his chest. His skin was warm through the nitrile.
A spike of cold, painful energy slithered up her wrist, and she almost instinctively recoiled away at the grating sensation. Instead, she forced herself to breathe, trying to relax into the Force. Closing her eyes, she focused in, trying to find Kenobi’s signature within the abrasive sensations leeching off of him.
Exhaling, she cleared her mind, hands pressing into Kenobi’s chest. Her mind and heart opened up into the Force, inhaling in the signature of each of the thousands upon thousands of individuals on the ship, as well as the never-stilling melody of the cosmos at large. It was all the light she could feel, all the light she could know. Brows furrowing, she forged it into a point, then aimed it at the darkness inside Kenobi’s chest.
It railed against her, a bitter, infuriating sensation pummeling against her, but she refused to give in, drawing on the energy around her to force the point of light through the hardened void that surrounded Kenobi. If she wanted to be able to heal his lungs, she had to get past the darkness enveloping him. The monitors and the vent began to alarm, the bells and chimes reaching a fever pitch.
She pushed the noises from her mind. Whatever had Kenobi was trying to fight back, clamping down on any oxygen entering his lungs, but she could feel it wearing thin. Just a little bit more, and she would do it. She gritted her teeth, and forced the shard of light through.
Suddenly, all the resistance vanished, the brittle crystals of darkness crumbling away suddenly. Kenobi’s Force signature shone brightly against hers. The dark side was intimidating and capable of great harm, but since it isolated itself from the rest of the Force, it was essentially, inherently weak. With enough focused resistance, it would always fall.
She moved on to repairing the damage, rejuvenating the badly damaged tissues of his alveoli as best as she could, working from the bases up. Kenobi’s body was weak, making it hard to harness his own systems to do the work. He’d still need time to recover, but hopefully this would get him out of the woods.
Slowly, she pulled away, opening her eyes as she straightened. The moment she did, she knew what was happening. Her head whipped around towards the window to call out for help, blood starting to gush from her nose as her legs crumbled beneath her, and the darkness closed in.
***
Several curses fell out of Epi’s mouth as she watched General Alla’Zee fall to the floor. “I’m gonna need some help in here!” She called as she smashed the bright red emergency button on the wall behind Kenobi’s bed.
Kal was hot on her heels, pulling on a mask, gown and gloves in time with her. Both medic’s eyebrows furrowed with determination as they looked through the window at General Alla’zee’s limb body. At least she was breathing. They wasted no time garbing up and pushing through the antechamber door, Epi pulling the crash cart that Angi had stationed outside behind her.
“General?” Epi called as she knelt down by her head, pulling the blood-stained mask off of her face. Blood was smeared all over her lips and chin too, still wet and glistening. Less than ideal. “General Alla’zee, you with me?”
Her eyes opened slowly at first, then went wide with panic as she began to cough and spit out the blood that had been pooling in her airway. It soaked into the fluid-resistant fabric of her gown as she heaved Alla’zee onto her side. She pinched her nose closed tightly before any more blood could flow out and pool on the floor, putting pressure on the bleed. “There you go, general.”
“Here’s suction,” Kal said, setting it down next to her folded legs. “You want O2?”
“Yes please,” Epi nodded quickly, then looked back down to Alla’zee. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Alla’zee paused for a moment, then nodded. “Was healing. Force ‘xhaustion. Fell.” She spat out another stream of blood.
Kal passed a cannula off to Epi. “I’m gonna check her head.”
“Good,” Epi nodded. “I’m gonna put this around your ears,” she warned as she tucked the prongs in. So far, Alla’zee seemed to have been able to clear any of the residual blood on her own, but Epi was thankful for the extra O2 nonetheless.
“General, does your head hurt at all?” Kal asked as he settled behind her.
“N-no,” she said minutely, eyes blinking slowly as his hands worked around her skull, making sure there wasn’t any bleeding or tender spots.
“She’s clean,” Kal announced. “You want a glucose level?”
Epi nodded. Force exhaustion was a bitch. “Good idea, go for it.”
Her eyes fell closed again, and Epi reached out with her unoccupied hand, tapping her shoulder as she called out to her again. “General Alla’zee?”
There was an exhausting, creaking groan as the General opened her eyes again. She gazed up at Epi, looking rather annoyed. “I know, General. We need you awake though.”
“‘m fine,” she muttered, words garbled both by her exhaustion and the fact that her face was partially smushed onto the floor. Internally, Epi shook her head. Jetii were all the same sort of stubborn when it came down to it.
“Bright light,” she warned as she checked Alla’zee’s pupils, flashing the penlight in each eye.
Kal took one of her hands in his, pulling the glove off. Her fingers were trembling. She had to be exhausted. “There’s going to be a quick poke, alright.”
Surprisingly Alla’zee didn’t try to pull her hand away from the glycotest. While Kal managed that, Epi took her through the standard orientation questions. While she knew who, where, and when she was, Epi could see how her face fell when she asked if she knew what happened.
Epi patted her shoulder. “General Kenobi is in great hands, okay? We gotcha, General.”
Kal looked up at her, glycotest in hand. “BGL is 63. It shouldn’t be symptomatic.”
Epi nodded, reaching back to grab a monitoring bracelet before skillfully affixing it around her wrist one handed. “FES for sure then.” She looked down to the General, making sure she understood. Alla’zee nodded at her, eyes blinking slowly again.
Behind her, Lys and Zap entered, yellow gowns fluttering behind them as they quickly crossed the room. She bent down towards the general. “We’ve got some more help here for you, okay? You’re doing great.”
The report fell smoothly from her lips, detailing what had happened and what they had done. Lys took over pinching her nose shut while Epi joined Kal began to examine her further. Zap worked to start a line, quickly sliding a twenty gauge into the top of her hand.
The standard treatment for mild/moderate Force Exhaustion Syndrome was a dahna bag, some bedrest, and lots of fluids. They’d throw some jogan juice at her too, since her sugar was a little low. Most jetii preferred to meditate, but that was their own purview, not hers. Hopefully, Alla’Zee would be back on her feet again soon.
As they rolled her out of the room, Epi stole a glance at General Kenobi’s monitor. His oxygen saturation had been slowly working his way up through the eighties and into the high nineties.
Whatever Alla’zee had done, it had worked.
***
The world came back to Obi-Wan in stages.
It started, as always, with the Force, warm and coursing through him. This time, it felt different, like meeting an old friend for the first time in a while. Per usual, the Force was followed by hearing.
There was rustling and beeping and muffled voices, and he floated in and out, listening to the soundscape he couldn’t quite place just yet. The memories came back to him eventually; the pain growing in his chest as the air slipped away, the medics crouching down beside him in his room, the darkness closing in as he was wheeled down the hallway.
Kriff, he was in the medbay, wasn’t he.
He started to pull his eyes open, squinting away from the harsh, bright lights. His body returned to him, aches stretching through him as he tried to roll away from the light. There were tubes and wires stuck to him, the adhesives tugging at his skin.
“General Kenobi?” A distant voice said, something shifting next to him.
Slowly, his vision resolved, and he found the face of his commander learning over him, brows furrowed. As he had guessed he was propped up in bed, the walls of the Negotiator’s medbay surrounding him. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but he found a tube there instead. It felt like Tatooine had made a home in the back of his throat.
“Hey, hey, hey, It’s alright,” Cody said. Thank Force. Cody. “Medics are right here.”
Another face appeared over his. Bright. Cheery. Epi. “How’re you feeling, General?”
He made another face, throat still sore. Epi smiled softly, tucking the blanket around him. “That’s understandable, sir. You were very sick. On Zigoola, you came into contact with some sort of Sith artifact.”
He nodded, eyes vaguely tracking Cody as a medic shuttled him out of the room. Sith oisk. That explained a lot.
“We’re gonna have you try breathing on your own, before we extubate you.” Epi explained, reaching out for something he could see. Kenobi’s attention was still on Cody, who had stationed himself in the hallway, arms crossed over his body. Didn’t he have other things to do?
Suddenly, he stopped, meeting Kenobi's eyes. He said no words, but Kenobi could feel it: “In the future, please try to avoid contracting mysterious curses.” Something warm was there, but so was something fierce.
Any thought of a pithy retort died on his tongue as he watched Cody turn and leave, though he chalked it up to the medications as Cody slipped out the door. Slowly, he brought his gaze to Epi’s, who was starting to coach him through what had to be his millionth extubation. Still, a Sith curse?
Neither Cody nor the medics were ever going to let him live this down.