Who: Qui-Gon Jinn + Luke Skywalker + Various NPCs When: Tonight Where: Refugee Station What: The Jedi Master's return to Naboo could have been under better circumstances. Rating: Teen for character injury Status: In Progress
"Med droids. Now!"
Accustomed to the unexpected as they were, the immigration officers on the station hadn't thought to prepare for this. Of all beings who could come through the tear ... Qui-Gon Jinn was a feature in the history holos, one the Empire had not wanted to see celebrated. The Naboo had still had their ways of remembering, and the officers now found themselves working frantically to stabilize a man who had been dead for a lifetime.
A quick-thinking officer grabbed a medical kit, while another fetched a blanket. The med droids would arrive soon, but seconds counted. The records said that Jinn's wounds had killed him. The officers had a chance to change that.
"Keep him warm," the senior officer ordered. "The shock could do more harm than the wound itself." She had decades of medical advancements at her fingertips, compared to what would have been available in Jinn's time, but nowhere near the experience she would have liked in treating lightsabre trauma.
"Master Jinn," she tried. "My name is Tabe. I'm with the Naboo. Help is on the way. You're safe here. I promise you. Can you hear me?" Jinn lay still and quiet. Tabe swore. "Damn it. Where are those droids?"
As if the Force had called them - and maybe the stories were true, and the Force had - the needed droids hurried into the room. "Step clear, please," the first requested. "We must treat the patient immediately."
"No," Tabe insisted. "I'm staying with him." She recalled the stories. Master Jinn had been with his apprentice when he had died. Did he know that the young man was gone? Could he feel it? Her father had claimed that Jedi could sense each other. "I may not be a Jedi, but I won't let him be alone." Still, Tabe wished there were a Jedi here, someone who could understand this figure of history better than her.