Master Vokara Che whistled in surprise when she saw her young apprentice's almost completely missing hand. She had seen all sorts of things, of course, but when such an injury was sustained by such a young adept, it always made her shudder. Naturally, she was interested in the details, but professional ethics dictated that she put her curiosity aside and get on with the most important thing in this situation—healing. Since the hand itself remained on the Invisible Hand, Count Dooku's beloved ship, there was only one solution—replace it with a cybernetic prosthesis. When Anakin heard this, he was very upset:
"But how can that be? Now I'll be like a droid!
"Now you'll understand how they work," Ahsoka, sitting next to him, tried to calm him down. She asked the Council for permission to join the meeting a little later and went to the medical bay with Anakin and Kenobi. Plo let her go, especially since she clearly needed medical attention herself. Vokara confirmed this with a glance at the young Togruta, who was holding her friend's left hand and trying to convince him that it wasn't so bad.
"And don't try to convince me, Knight Tano, that nothing has happened to you," said the Supreme Healer seriously, looking at the girl over her round pince-nez glasses. "Believe me, I don't even need to examine you to know that you have severe bruises from hitting the wall, burns from Force lightning, and possibly even a slight spinal injury.
"If that is the case, Master Che," Tano replied calmly, but with a hint of steel in her voice, "then I will not allow anyone to help me until I am certain that Anakin is all right. He was hurt because of me, and I will never forgive myself if his life is never the same again.
"You don't need to worry about him, Knight," Vokara hastened to reassure her. "I'll put him into a trance to repair the damaged nerves and tissue, and in the meantime, I'll create a prosthesis that fits him perfectly. After that, if you don't mind, I'll take care of you. Maybe not for your sake, but out of respect for your teacher."
Asoka sighed heavily and leaned back on the couch, realising that resistance was futile, and decided to change the subject:
"How is Master Kenobi feeling? He took quite a beating too.
"Don't worry about him," said Vokara, continuing to prepare the capsule for Anakin, in which she was going to put him as soon as she finished her conversation. "Master Alie is taking care of him, and I think he'll be fine by tomorrow. Master Kenobi is a tough nut to crack; he can't be killed by a simple Force lightning bolt.
"Not me, you mean?" Asoka couldn't resist and sneered.
"All I meant to say, young lady, is that enthusiasm and a thirst for battle don't always save you; common sense is important too," Che replied, seemingly calm and without any specific meaning, but Ahsoka and Anakin easily caught the hidden message and fell silent in unison, lowering their heads in shameful awareness of the elderly healer's righteousness. She, however, seemed not to notice the young adepts' reaction to her words, silently continuing to connect some wires to the capsule. Only when everything was ready did she motion to Anakin to come closer and help him settle inside the narrow glass case. Ahsoka approached him, took his hand again, and said:
"Come back soon, I'll miss you."
"But I'm stronger," replied Anakin, reluctantly letting go of her fingers. "I already miss you."
The lid slowly closed and a breathing mask gently descended onto Anakin's face. A second later, the capsule began to fill with a thick yellow-brown liquid familiar to Ahsoka.
"Now come with me, he doesn't need any more help, but you could really use some," said the Twi'lek, taking Asoka by the hand and leading her into the next room to perform the necessary procedures. At the same time, she glanced strangely and ambiguously at the Togrut, as if wanting to say something but not daring to, or rather, not considering herself entitled to interfere in the personal affairs of other adepts, even such young ones. Master Plo, however, apparently thought otherwise and was the first to enter Asoka's room as soon as she woke up in the morning. All three had unanimously decided yesterday to keep her in the medical ward until tomorrow, and all three, with a heavy sigh, obeyed the order. The Magister visited them after the morning meeting, having endured a very unpleasant conversation with Master Yoda, which had begun the night before but remained unfinished due to the absence of its main protagonists from the Hall. First, he went to Kenobi and, after inquiring about his condition, asked the question that had been on everyone's mind since the previous evening:
"Do you think this is what we suspect? Do they really feel something more than just friendship between students?
They, Anakin and Ahsoka, were still asleep at that moment, and it was impossible to talk to them.
"Even if that's the case, I don't think it's gone so far that it can't be stopped and turned to our advantage," replied Kenobi, who was the first to notice what was going on between the two in the ship's medical bay.
"Should I tell them myself?" Plo interpreted his colleague's words in his own way. "Do you think I can find more appropriate words than the traditional reminder of the Code and the rules of the Order?"
"Most likely, since you are much better at sensing your students and understanding their motives," agreed Obi-Wan, confident that if they did not explain to them in time how they were wrong, the Order risked losing two adepts. Good adepts.
"I think I should start with the boy. At his age, it's easier to instill any truth," said Plo, and, receiving approval, headed for Skywalker's chamber. The teenager was already awake, sitting on his bed and staring in amazement at his right arm, now a black mechanical prosthesis covered with a thin layer of hygienic silicone. He tried to bend it and move his fingers, as if believing and not believing that this arm was now his forever. Of course, the healer had done her best, and physically the prosthesis felt almost like his own hand, but it was still a prosthesis, and he would have to come to terms with that.
"Greetings, young man, how are you feeling?" Plow began cautiously, sitting down on a chair nearby.
"Greetings, Master, about the same as my beloved droids after repairs," the teenager said bitterly, clenching and unclenching the fist of his reborn right hand.
"Don't worry so much, you'll just stop noticing it over time," said the Master, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I didn't get used to my mask right away either, but now I don't even notice it.
"It's okay, a Jedi must be able to overcome difficulties. It's not easy for Ahsoka right now, she blames herself for this," Anakin involuntarily turned to a topic that interested the Master.
"That's right, she's very worried about you, just as you were about her when she was hurt in the fight. Tell me, have you talked to her about it?" asked Plo, folding his hands on his knees.
"I did," Skywalker admitted, "Ahsoka said it was because the Force itself brought us together. She said there have been cases in the Order where this has happened before, and it only strengthened the Order in the end.
He should have added that the Chancellor felt the same way, but out of some vindictive sense of teenage mischief, he decided to keep it to himself.
"That may be true," Plo continued gently, not arguing, "but we must not forget about moderation, about the line that, once crossed, turns the desire to work together into something very dangerous — attachment, which is forbidden by our Code.
"But isn't sympathy and empathy for others one of its rules?" asked Anakin, remembering what he had learned in class.
"That's right," Plo agreed again. "However, this feeling must be the same for everyone who suffers, without singling out anyone in particular. Otherwise, it will turn into attachment and cause both of you to suffer in the future when the Council forces you to sever your ties. You clearly don't want that.
Of course, Anakin wanted nothing more than for Ahsoka to suffer because of his feelings and was willing to give them up if it would help her get rid of her problems. But were these feelings really ready to leave the young Skywalker's heart and soul so willingly, when the mere sight of Ahsoka made his heart ache and his soul tremble with sweetness? What to do then? How to find a way out without tearing himself apart from the inside? The answer came on its own, reflected on his face in painful agony:
"In short, you understand me, Anakin. Think about my words and draw your own conclusions. Now rest, you are clearly tired. Get well," said the Master, touching his shoulder again in an attempt to cheer him up, and left the room to go to the next one, occupied by Asoka. The girl had also woken up, but unlike her friend, she was not examining her injuries, but was holding a holocron in her hands and reading the biographies of famous Masters. At that moment, she was reading about Revan, one of the few adepts who had managed to learn both the Light and Dark sides of the Force until he found balance within himself — the point where they collide and neutralise each other. He was considered the first Chosen One, and now the same was required of her, Ahsoka, but she didn't have time to think about it before Plo entered the room. The conversation was not very different from the one he had had with Anakin, with the only difference being that when asked about her relationship with the young Skywalker, the Togruta replied without hesitation:
"Don't worry, Master," she said calmly. "I won't give anyone any more reason to think such things about Anakin and me, and you can believe me, I'll make sure there are no more rumours about us. It's just friendship and nothing more, let everyone understand that, including him."
The Master was satisfied with her words and, wishing her a speedy recovery, left the medical ward, confident that the two had now understood their mistakes and would not repeat them. But there was one more difference from the previous conversation that the Master had noticed — the participant in the first conversation had heard every word. Anakin lay pressed against the wall, his ears straining, and every word Asoka uttered struck his heart like a painful blow from a whip. And the final phrase pierced him like a spear, sent with a terrible poison that, mixing with his blood, began to spread slowly but inexorably through his veins, not killing him immediately, but remaining there for a long time, gradually poisoning every day, every month, every year of Anakin's existence. The teenager was simply devastated by Asoka's words. He loved her with all his heart and for the sake of that love was even willing to sacrifice his honour and the Code, but all this time she had simply been friends with him. She had treated him like any other girl she had many friends with throughout the Temple and even the Senate. It hurt. Terribly painful. And he was ashamed, so ashamed that tears were already streaming from his eyes, soaking into the pillow.
"No, enough. This can't go on," he finally decided. "She may not need my feelings, but I won't let her make a fool of me anymore! Today, I will put an end to my humiliation. That's it, no more of that sweet boy, the loyal page of the proud queen, there is only me — a serious, proper and strict Jedi, and the Order will be proud of him!
"Excellent," his mind told him.
"The right decision," said his conscience.
"Don't be so sure, dear," contradicted his heart, but its voice was drowned out by the voices of his rational brothers, and Anakin simply did not hear it, remaining deaf to it for another six long months.
***
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