Qui-Gon’s Journal – Silent Vigil
I am sitting here in the MediBay watching you float in a bacta tank. You have a concussion, an arm broken in two places, and a torso covered with serious burns. I shall not even try to list the cuts and bruises that litter your body. You look like a young kulakit that someone might put out of its misery...
It is killing me to just sit and wait for you to heal. The healing trance that I forced you into is the best thing for you, but I still worry. I fear that if I close my eyes, you will slip away from me. I must resist the urge to test our bond every few moments; I do not want to jar you out of the trance. Despite the healing nature of bacta, it will not quell your pain should you regain consciousness now.
The healers have assured me that you will make a full recovery, but that has done little to lessen my anxiety. I still see you falling into the flames every time I close my eyes. I see you lying there amongst the burning timbers, unmoving. The fear… I have never felt it so strongly in all my years. I refused to admit it to myself before, but I now realize that living without you would hurt like Sith Hell.
You and your heroics are going to drive me mad. There are days when I think that all self-preservation instincts were beaten out of you in the creche. I may ask you just that when your are free of the bacta, because there is no other explanation for your actions some days. Jedi live to serve, and apparently you are more prepared to die trying than most of your elders.
Why in all of Creation were those children playing in that tower?!
They had been told repeatedly to avoid the older spire, told that it was dangerous and unstable. I should know that danger attracts the ‘invincible’ youth. If I had forgotten this despite my two previous padawans, you are certainly reminding me of that fact. First by your actions on Bandomeer, and now you have proven it again here on Telrae with this latest disaster. I am beginning to remember how difficult these early years of training are for both master and apprentice. I can hardly believe that it has only been three short years since we met; you have already carved a place for yourself so deeply within my heart.
I really should not condemn you so. I would have chosen the same path, taken the same actions, and met the same fate had our roles been reversed. Maybe it was a blessing that you were closer to the fire than I. I fear you would have lacked the skill to pull my wrecked body from the flames. Instead of watching over me in this damned isolation tank, you would be preparing a corpse for the pyre. I imagine the loss would have destroyed you, because I know that just thinking about how close I came to losing you is eating away at me while I sit here writing.
I guess the only blessing is that the two young girls were not seriously hurt. A few scraps, some superficial bruises, and mild smoke inhalation were the extent of their injuries. The MediDroid released them both within an hour of the incident. Their families are very grateful, for their daughters would have surely perished without your intervention. The local emergency teams were unable to control the fire, and the risks were too great to send in a native rescue team. They have thanked me repeatedly though it was you who choose to risk the flames and collapsing debris. They have showered the room with plants and other symbols of gratitude. It more resembles a greenhouse than a MediBay since they learned of the Living Force, and the comfort it provides to all Jedi.
I should not dwell on this. I should be mediating, releasing these feelings to the Force. I can no more change the past, than I could prevent the strong gust of wind that shook your balance while you were on the roof. I cannot sink into the comfort of meditation yet. My mind is too active; I keep thinking of how I could have prevented this. I now see all the things that I could have done differently.
If only we had been a little faster in getting the damn skimmer into position. If only I’d been able to get it closer to you on the rooftop. If only Atrielle had not been so scared of falling. I caught her… but you know that. You somehow managed to keep your balance long enough to see that, despite the heavy winds that rocked the skimmer erratically. However, had I used the Force to calm the child as I did her sister, she would not have kicked you in the head when I pulled her aboard the skimmer.
That is the true reason I dwell on this so. I am your master, and you have come to depend on me in times of crisis. This time I failed you. It is guilt that is making this so hard for me to let go. Guilt and Love. Had I taken that one precaution, this could have been avoided. You would not have been injured so gravely.
Atrielle’s ill-timed kick did not knock you unconscious, nor did crashing through the roof as it collapsed under your weight. I could feel you through our bond, calm and confident. You controlled the fear and controlled the fall. It was the debris that followed you that caused your concussion when you slowed your descent. You fell three stories, crashed through three floors before landing amidst the flames. Your arm snapped on impact with the solid floor. I felt it all.
I leaped after you as soon as I got Atrielle into the medic’s hands. I found you, broken and bleeding from my carelessness. I carried you back to the skimmer before the whole tower collapsed, though I did not reach you quickly enough to prevent the burns that now cover you. If I could bear these wounds for you, I surely would. By the Force, it was my mistake.
You will bear the pain without comment, as you always do. Even though I know that you would not blame me, it is my failure that put you here. I will not feel truly absolved until you are well again, if at all.