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It was supposed to be a peaceful mission. That was one of the dozens of reasons it felt so terrible to look at the deathly pale and unmoving form of the General laying on his sickbed.
He wasn’t dead, of course he wasn’t, he was way too tough to die like this, his chest was rising slightly with every breath. Hell, there was still a slight wheeze in the air, testament of his struggle to get enough oxygen, hence, the cannula leading to his nostrils.
Kenobi would recover, he wasn’t even angry about the fact that we nearly killed him with our stupidity. Casual with his near death as he always was.
Myself and the other medics weren’t nearly as forgiving with ourselves. Splint, Scrubs, Vigil, Meds, Anti, and my idiot self were currently all crammed into the small room holding our most troublesome patient’s bed.
We weren’t exactly needed by his bed side, strictly speaking there was nothing we could do, he didn’t even need monitoring, Kenobi was perfectly fine. Or at least he’d be soon enough. The General’s treatment was done with and we all knew he’d wake up in a few hours, good as new.
But we needed to discuss our failures and mistakes. As of now though, nobody said a word, concerned silence filling the air, next to the shallow breathing of our Jedi.
I recognized the symptoms in my brothers easily, we were in a collective state of shock, only materializing now that the danger was over and done with. Our hands shook, all of them, even Scrubs’, who as far as I knew had the steadiest hands within the entire GAR, steadier even than Longshot.
Kix chose that exact moment to barge into the room with seven cups of tea balanced on a tray, calm as anything while he handed one of them to each of us, taking the last for himself. Too stunned to do anything but take it, we all held the hot beverage and gradually stilled our shaking with it.
“What’s with the long faces everyone?” He asked in an upbeat tone, as if he didn’t know, that bastard.
“We nearly killed our own General.” Anti answered, his voice much darker and matter of fact.
“Wrong, today you saved General Kenobi’s life.” The older clone answered smoothly and in response I shook my head vehemently, feeling my composure slip. “No, no, we nearly killed him! We didn’t know, why didn’t we know?! We need to know shit like that!” I called out angrily, letting the aggression take over for a while, hurling the stupid tea at an empty spot on the wall. After the sudden outbreak I ended up slumping down to the ground, feeling boneless and weak, aggression gone, guilt flushed back in it's place.
I felt another body huddle close and knew it was Vigil, the most compassionate medic aboard the Negotiator by far. He offered silent comfort, although he himself was equally devastated by our mistakes. He also silently handed me his own cup of tea, and this time I took it without throwing anything, feeling ashamed of myself and my emotional breakdown.
We weren’t supposed to have those, none of the clones should if you asked the Kaminii, but the medics especially were supposed to be extra sturdy. Ha, if I could laugh right now I would…
A hand pat my short curls and I looked up into Kix’s soft eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. Crossfire, you’re a field medic, even if you all had full access to the General’s medical files, you were right to administer a broad-spectrum type antivenom. In a serious case the toxin would have killed Kenobi way faster than any allergic reaction could.”
“Still, at least I should’ve known better!” Scrubs interrupted. “I should have dug into the matter on why the General’s files weren’t available, it’s my job as the head medic on this ship! Kix, you probably saved his life today, even though you’re not even in Kenobi’s battalion anymore, you weren’t even there and knew that he needed intubation!” The older clone bit out, obviously pained by the events of today, even though he typically played the role of someone completely detached from his patients.
In turn, Kix chuckled, crossing the room to sit at the General’s bed instead. “You know, exactly this thing happened to me too, once upon a time.” The seasoned medic admitted with a look of regret on his face.
“We’re not in a position to demand information, we’re the Jedi’s and the Republic’s subordinates, so we deal with what we’re given, be it supplies or medical files. Obviously it’s not optimal that we don’t get information on the natborn officers, but most of them don’t get directly involved in battle, we don’t treat them regularly, so it’s not weird that they don’t hand their files over. They get most of their treatment directly on Coruscant. With the exception of the Jedi of course.”
All of us were looking at the older clone with confusion. Of course all of us knew about this, but no one really got what kind of point Kix was trying to make other than Kenobi being borderline suicidal with the way he threw himself into battle.
“You all know that I served under Kenobi first, when Alpha-17 was still around. I left his side to join Skywalker’s Legion when he was knighted at the request of General Kenobi himself.” He continued undeterred by our staring and sighed while looking over the sleeping Jedi.
“General Kenobi was also the one who handed me his young Commander’s full medical file. While this is technically not legal, he wanted me to be able to deliver the best care possible. Sometimes I think the Senate wants the Jedi to die in the war with how difficult they are making it for clones to access vital information.” Kix continued his triad and in the corner of my eye I caught several of the other medics nodding along the statement.
Apparently it was of utmost importance, that the enemy couldn’t get their hands on the Jedi’s medical files, that’s why they were only allowed to exist within the Jedi temple and the Coruscant general hospital.
All of us thought that was banthashit of course, in a life-threatening situation there wasn’t always time to call the temple healers for information, not to mention that we couldn’t even always reach the temple due to distance and bad signals in the middle of a battlefield or in isolated regions of the outer Rim…
At least that made it clear to all that the senate didn’t care about the Jedi’s lives over the so called “state-security” of the Republic. They didn’t view them as more than weapons in the end. Much like us, the clones, a resource for the war.
I felt my gut churn uncomfortably and took a sip of tea, still sunken to the floor. I remembered every detail of the past hours in a clarity untouched by shock and somehow wished I didn’t.
In a way Kix was right, I saved the General’s life. I saved him and then I nearly killed him again. Now I had to ask myself, was that worse, or better than any other possible outcome?
It was supposed to be a simple relief mission, not dangerous at all. The fights in the Venitas system ended recently, leaving the planets and their people battered and in need of help. The republic delivered where it was able to, sending out a dozen ships and Generals with aid supplies.
Missions like this were usually a nice change of scenery from endless bloodshed and battles. Kenobi loved missions like this one, even though he was a brilliant tactician and fought like a seasoned hunter, his real nature was gentle and caring.
The redhead held children in the first aid tents, calming their cries and telling soothing stories in many tongues. The Jedi joked with struggling elders, helping them set up camp, often sharing his tea or giving away his cloak. Kenobi lifted slabs of stone, pieces of destroyed homes away with the force, looking for survivors until he could barely stand anymore and then he still handed out soup with a smile.
It wasn’t the job of a General to do these things, but he liked to do them. He was like a shining beacon of hope.
It was obvious that this was his reason for fighting. He wasn’t like us, he wasn’t bred for bloodshed and war, he fought because he wanted to protect people. He wanted to protect us just as much, even though most people wouldn’t admit that we were sentient beings to begin with…
All the more shocking that someone chose one of these missions of peace to attack the General.
The sniper fired a dart right into Kenobi’s lower back, unprotected by his armor and close enough to his vital organs to cause serious damage. The General collapsed to his hands and knees from the impact alone, groaning in pain, alarming everyone surrounding him.
I was at his side in an instant, glad that I still carried a decent amount of supplies in my pack even though I had been treating civilians close by.
“It’s alright Cross, nothing serious.” The General tried to tell me, already sitting up again, reaching for the dart himself, but I was quick to catch his hand and push him down to lie flat on the concrete.
“Shut up, I get to decide if it’s serious, you just lie still for a second.” I commented harshly, keeping an eye on our surroundings, but luckily, Skywalker and the 501st had accompanied us and were already hunting the fucker down that ambushed Kenobi.
Meanwhile I was ripping the Jedi’s belt off, feeling around the dart through the man’s tunics. The flesh surrounding it was hot and hard, muscles cramped and tissue swollen. Bad, it was probably poisoned, so I quickly ripped the dart out and lifted the thick fabric out of the way.
Barely a drop of blood, no wonder, the area surrounding the puncture was already of a purple black color, the swelling cutting off the blood flow. Definitely a toxin of some kind, so without hesitation I pulled out the hypo containing a broad spectrum antivenom and injected it into the General’s neck.
Of course the effect wasn’t instant, I couldn’t even be sure that the antivenom was effective on this kind of toxin to begin with, so I quickly took a blood sample from the site and commed to the medbay of the Negotiator as well as to Cody, who was overlooking the distribution of supplies a few blocks away.
“General down, I repeat, General Kenobi is down. Attacker is being pursued by the 501st under the lead of General Skywalker, no harm towards civilians was done, area secure. Kenobi was hit by a dart, most likely poisoned, he’s conscious and I administered a broad spectrum type antivenom. I will send a sample ahead.” I told the vod’e while rummaging through my pack.
“Understood, I’m on my way, send medevac right away.” Commander Cody confirmed, similar sounds could be heard from different brothers while I fitted an IV into the crook of the General’s arm.
“Sir, how is the pain?” I asked Kenobi while securing the site, watching the dark bruise grow with concerned eyes. “Not too bad.” He wheezed out and I shook my head, carefully poking the small wound, watching the man beneath me flinch.
“Okay, it hurts.” He then admitted. “That’s what I thought. Other symptoms? Are you hot, cold? Can you move? Just a question though Sir, please don’t demonstrate by getting up, you’ll only help the toxin move faster by wriggling around.” I told him firmly.
“Hot. I think I can move fine, but… I must admit, I’m struggling to breathe.” The General said, already interrupted by several loud wheezes. Huh, weird, the dose of antivenom was supposed to counteract any paralytic affecting his diaphragm and lungs. Again I rummaged through my pack until I found a more specified antivenom, administering a second dose.
“I’ll give you some saline to keep you hydrated and something against the pain, as well as a muscle relaxant.” I informed him and the General nodded shortly. At least he wasn’t fighting treatment tooth and nail like he normally would.
Around us civilians as well as vod’e watched with concerned faces, huddling in small groups. Lingering, but not getting in my way.
There was sweat gathering in between the tense muscles of my patient’s back. His neck was red and hot to the touch. My fingers found his pulse point quickly, racing beneath his skin. He wasn’t relaxing, instead, a tremble settled over his muscles.
Shit, not a paralytic after all? A neurotoxin? It shouldn’t matter, the broad spectrum antivenom should work nonetheless, but it wasn’t… Was he going to have a seizure??
I grit my teeth, pulling the General to his side carefully, cutting his top away to pillow his head on it. His eyes were glassy, cheeks red and sweaty. The rest of his skin wasn’t doing any better, except for the large bruise and swelling on his back.
I quickly worked my fingers over his stomach, hard, but not too hard or even distended. The bruising stopped growing. Good, so the internal bleeding hadn’t reached his organs or filled his abdominal cavity. The toxin stopped destroying his cells at one point, so he’d get better soon, right?
The General was still, other than his wheezing and the slight trembling, not complaining about the humiliation he had to endure in front of his troops or scaring the civilians. Not good…
“Hurry up, he’s not getting better fast enough, I think something’s wrong.” I commed again and was soon joined by Commander Cody as well as Meds, who’d already been on the ground with us, checking civilians.
My fellow medic had a cool wet cloth with him, carefully cleaning the General’s face and neck with it to cool him down a little. I kept my fingers on his wrist, keeping a close eye on his pulse.
Cody, in turn settled by the wounded Jedi’s head, trying to get him to talk, but it looked like the redhead was beyond words at this point, just barely getting enough air with each wild gulp and wheeze.
The trembling stayed as it was, not getting worse or escalating into a seizure, but without much of a warning Kenobi threw up, gagging and wheezing and coughing not stopping any time soon even though his stomach was empty after the first few heaves, so I quickly injected something against the nausea into his IV while the commander tried to keep the other man calm.
Meds continued to run the cool cloth over the heated skin of the General until he suddenly gasped. “Cross, look at this!” He startled me and pulled my gaze to our patient’s neck. The injection points there were red and swollen, not too out of the ordinary considering how much the puncture wound of the dart was swollen, but down his shoulder…
“Shit, that’s a rash.” I cursed, pulling another hypo from my pack. Cody looked visibly out of his depth, Meds had the mercy to keep him in the loop, as well as comming the medevac team. “The General’s in anaphylactic shock, he’s having an allergic reaction to the antivenom!”
That’s the moment Kix’s voice rang through the comm. “Intubate him now! He’s going to need at least two doses of antiallergic!” The other field medic said sternly, so I did what he said, even though the General moaned around the intrusion into his throat in pain. He was barely conscious enough to fight us anyway.
Kix was Kenobi’s head medic before Scrubs, he probably knew what he was talking about, at least I hoped so…
Shortly after Kenobi completely lost consciousness. That was probably also the moment his throat would have swelled shut completely if it weren’t for the tube in it, Meds pumping the sack rhythmically to keep the General breathing while I measured his pulse and kept him lying stable until the shuttle reached us.
Splint and Anti stepped out and helped us pack Kenobi onto a gurney for the transport. Scrubs and Vigil were probably setting up a surgical suit and or a bacta tank up on the Negotiator. No one had expected a simple relief mission to escalate like this after all.
Up on the Negotiator I left my charge in the capable hands of my colleagues.
Scrubs drained the damaged tissue surrounding the puncture wound caused by the dart. A simple phospholipase, attacking his cells. The toxin had stopped working even before I injected the second antivenom… I made it worse.
While Scrubs treated the wounds with bacta and Anti checked over the General’s progress working through his allergic reaction with the help of several medicaments I had a quick breakdown in our breakroom. Ha, maybe we should call it breakdown room instead, that’s really all it was for.
I nearly killed my own General… Something like this could never happen again.
The treatment worked well. The General even woke up shortly after, having a quick word with Skywalker on the comm and Cody before the Commander left again, to help the young Jedi Knight down on the planet finish the mission.
The sniper was dead. Jumped off a cliff rather than letting himself be captured. Kenobi would recover just fine. He laughed it off, well used to having random allergic reactions to all kinds of stuff. It wasn’t funny, none of the medics laughed.
So that’s how we ended up here, crammed into the General’s room in the medbay, watching him sleep, not actually discussing what we were supposed to do to stop something like this from happening again.
And so, Kix showed up, trying to cheer us up with a story of himself, making the same mistakes.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I once again interrupted, voice hoarse, eyes wet.
“Start your own medical file on Kenobi. Sit him down and have him tell you himself. That’s not exactly legal via Senate law, but it’s not against patient confidentiality at least, if he tells you himself.” Kix answered softly.
“He’s not going to tell us shit, that man hates the medbay.” Splint mumbled harshly, crinkling his own, by now empty cup in his fist.
“Yes, but he loves us. You’ll find a way to pressure him somehow, Vigil already has the big baby tooka eyes perfected. You’ll find a way, don’t worry too much, just do your job.” And for once, none of us had anything to disagree about with the older medic.
Kix left the Negotiator as soon as all supplies were distributed on the planet. He returned to Skywalker and left Kenobi’s fate in our hands, feeling a confidence in our capabilities we currently lacked. But Kix was a good medic, he generally wasn’t wrong about these things, so we at least had some hope. And all of us were good at getting the General to do things he’d rather not, so there’s that…