Thicker Than Blood

Chapter 3

Neither of us said a word on the way back to our ship, and the silence was painful. I didn't know whether to break it or not. I wanted to say something, but the cold shoulder I was receiving from Obi-Wan indicated that he didn't entirely share my feelings. I caught hints of longing slipping through his not-rock-solid shields, but that was all it amounted to. Not even a sound passed between us.

The sun had just finished setting by the time we reached our ship, and I was relieved to see that it hadn't been damaged any more. We went on board and shut the door tight for the night, then started readying the thick sleeping bags. I made Obi-Wan sit down while I laid them out, insisting that he was injured and shouldn't do any work.

"My burns are nothing compared to yours, Anakin," he protested. "I was licked by the edge of a laser bolt, not shot directly in the shoulder by one. So I should be doing that, not you."

"You already looked at my wound," I said innocently, smoothing down the sleeping bags and tossing pillows at the heads of the benches that doubled as beds. Despite over-exaggerating making Obi-Wan's bed tidy and mine messy, I did take a great deal of hidden care in trying to get his bed as comfy as possible. Though he was watching my every move, I couldn't tell if he actually noticed my efforts or not.

I waved a hand at his spotless sleeping bag. "Your slumber awaits, my good sir. But first, if you would allow me, I will, or I should say," I paused to think of the most proper why I could phrase my sentence, "I shall tend to your injuries."

He shook his head but laughed. "Very well – you win. Do what you must."

I grinned, then set about checking his burns and patching them up as best I could. After I was finished, I sat back on my knees, semi-satisfied.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows at me. "Are you happy?"

I kept a straight face. "You should live."

He nodded mock-seriously. "Thank you, doctor. I must be indebted to you for your generous services."

I brushed off his compliments. "Nothing doing. Now all I can prescribe is some good rest and a bite to eat." I straightened up and smiled. "I'll see if I can find you something." I dug around in the food cabinet before producing a couple of ready-made meals, the kind that tasted like a mix between cardboard and dry noodles but was apparently packed with healthy stuff. You only ate those types of meals when you were stuck on a mission on a far-out planet with no easy access to real food.

We finished our dinners, then settled in for the night. I burrowed into my sleeping bag, resenting the cold outside and relishing the warmth inside. Being a jungle planet, Felucia was humid and hot, but it still wasn't as warm as Tatooine, the desert planet with nothing but sand and sandstorms to its climate.

I curled up, facing the wall, trying to get comfy on the flat pillow. The foam on this one must have been defective. I shot a glance over my shoulder; Obi-Wan's pillow seemed to have plumped up nicely – good.

Within minutes, I heard Obi-Wan's breathing deepening and figured he had fallen asleep. I tossed and turned, but sleep evaded me. Lying on my left shoulder hurt too much, so I tried my right side and my back, but neither offered rest. My head was going around and around the day's events. Obi-Wan wasn't telling me something, and I guessed it was important, so it was weighing him down quite a bit. But now I had something I couldn't tell him as well.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the dull grey ceiling, wondering about my questions from earlier. How did Dooku know that I would get the transmitter? It seemed apparent that it was meant for me. "I have taken from you before." He had taken from me a few years back, but not from Obi-Wan. He seemed to believe he could take from me whenever it suited him, so that must mean he had eyes on us all the time. That disturbed me.