Category: Almost all of them - angst, romance, drama, tragedy, and a little bit of humor thrown in

Rating: T (for safety)

Warnings: Just my typical emotional cliff-hanging roller-coaster ride. (Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times.)



"Check south of the hangars, Captain."

Captain Panaka, Queen Amidala's head of security, punched several command keys of the palace's central computer, the resulting security monitor images flashing across the screen one at a time.

"There!" Padmé's finger pointed at the screen. Near the melting pit, lying on the black plastisteel floor, she could make out the bodies of two Jedi. Neither one of them were moving.

"Shut down the power generator in that sector. We've got to get down there!"

A shot of adrenaline helped her keep pace with the longer legs of Panaka. They reached the room indicated on the security monitors in a few moments, Panaka rushing to the body of the older fallen Jedi, Padmé to the younger.

A glance up at her and a shake of his head confirmed the nagging feeling in her heart that something had gone terribly wrong.

Unable to control the shaking of her hand, she pressed her fingertips to the pulse point of the young Jedi's neck and breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's alive. Thank the gods."

Panaka was soon at her side checking for obvious injuries. Padmé shuddered and stifled a gasp as Panaka opened the young man's robe to reveal a scorched gash to his left lower abdomen.

The captain's hand quickly retrieved the comlink from his belt. "Panaka here. We need security and a medic to the generator room as quickly as possible."

The look she received from her loyal protector did not ease her worry. The young Jedi was severely injured and unconscious. Not only that, his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn was dead.

If he lived through his injury, he would only awaken to grief. She was suddenly determined to help him any way she could as she somehow felt responsible. They had come here to protect her.

She could hear the footsteps of the approaching security.

"I want him taken to my personal bedchamber."

Panaka's eyebrow raised at her statement.

"I want to take care of him. I owe him that."

Panaka looked up at his security personnel, nodded his head, and made room for the medic who quickly knelt beside the unconscious body to examine the injuries.

He seemed so vibrant, so full of energy. Lying in the large bed in her royal suite, she noted that he was now pale, weak...and alone.

She stood several feet away from the hovering physician next to his bedside, who was rechecking his vital signs and applying a bacta dressing to the wound.

"He really should be in a bacta tank, your highness. As soon as possible, he should be taken back to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. In the least, a Jedi Healer should be brought here."

Padmé's heart dropped. The Trade Federation had knocked out all of their communications. It would be at least a day until they were re-established and the Jedi Temple could be reached, and just as long if she sent her fastest pilot to retrieve a healer and bring them here.

The short, rotund, elderly Naboo physician turned and motioned her to the bedside.

"Check him for fever and administer this." His pudgy hand held out a hypospray. "You can expect a fever with 'saber injuries such as this. There does not appear to be any significant internal damage, but it will probably be a while before he awakens."

The doctor continued while packing up his supplies. "Change the dressing twice during the night. Apply cool compresses to the forehead only. If you have any questions or if his condition worsens, contact my office immediately."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Padmé simply nodded her head. She returned the physician's small smile, watched him hobble through the door and then collapsed in a chair next to the bedside.

She must have dozed off because she was startled awake by a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Her handmaiden Sabé peeked her head through the open door. "Would Mi'Lady like dinner served in her room this evening?"

"Yes. Thank you Sabé.

"How is he?"

"He'll be fine." She couldn't help but notice her voice did not sound very reassuring, but Sabé smiled anyway before closing the door.

An hour later, Padmé shoved aside the uneaten half of her dinner across the bedside table and reached to place a hand across the young Jedi's brow.

He has a name Padmé, she chided herself.

"Obi-Wan? Can you hear me?" Her gentle touch turned more firm, her eyes growing wide with concern. She placed her full palm onto his head. He was burning up!

She reached over to grab the hypospray, applying it to his upper arm as the physician had instructed. Now all she could do was wait.