Covalent Bonds

Chapter 5

"Kenobi, hurts." Siri sat trembling on the cot at the foot of Obi-Wan's. Her white undergarments were only three shades paler than her goosepimpled skin. "Can't ... concentrate ... 've lost the Force."

"S-Siri, no. I c-can feel something, can't reach ... " Ferus sat opposite Obi-Wan's right side, head in his hands. His hair, grown long in what nearly all new male human Knights called their 'free at last' phase, brushed the stabilization board still bracing Obi-Wan's reduced knee. The glowing timer affixed to the board said 'two hours until safe removal.' Ferus, too, was pale.

ARC5231 swayed through the med-techs rushing about the tent and drew two smocks from a pile. "H-here, sirs. Can't l-l-let you freeze." He dropped the smocks on Siri's lap and returned to the clones' ward. Duty's done. He drew his forearm over his face, trying to sleep all his troubles away. The light from the space heater coils bothered his eyes.
 
After observing that the transport carried the now-silent armor and clothing to the perimeter of the camp, Anakin wobbled over to his cot and stretched out flat on his aching back. There's something crawling on me. I can feel it. On his mechno-arm, a warmth spread from digits to his interface, which sent strange signals to the thinking part of the connection. 'Interference. Interference. Need more shielding.' Anakin turned away painfully from the other Jedi and tugged down his glove, running a thumb over a dial, wrenching it to its maximum capacity. The interface went back to its subliminal mode. At a thought, he turned his attention to his arm again, diving through the shielding to the sensors embedded in his wrist. 'Diagnostic. Input directly to cortex.' He had never done this before and braced himself. The reply came as a thoughtful whisper, thanks to foresight in his arm's manufacturers and installers, who anticipated this scenario, it seemed. 'Invasive nanobots. Nanobots impregnated with digoxis. Inimical to carbon-based lifeforms. Warning, Anakin Skywalker. Warning, Anakin Skywalker. Keep three meter distance from nanobots. Invasive nanobots. Nanobots imp --- " "Be quiet," he whispered back, and the voice stopped. 

"Nanobots," he said to Obi-Wan. "Chemical warfare using nanobots as a vector to infect troopers and us, too. I sense Grievous' claws in this. Dooku spurns doing actual work, but might have come up with the original idea and left it to Grievous to implement. Dooku wouldn't want his hands to get dirty." Anakin stroked his glove. "He still has both of his."
 
Ferus raised his head. Obi-Wan saw the trickles of dried blood that ran from his ears through Ferus' long hair. "Sonic screamers. We got into the facility too easily. We were cautious, but it was a trap. The droids --- "
 
" --- the droids fell back, never saw them move so fast." Siri continued. "They were mobility enhanced, somehow, or had wheelies on their feet-simulacra, because we chased them, they boarded their transports in formation and right as I would have signaled for resighting the turbolasers, the screaming started. Got in our clothing, the troopers' helmets, the lads screamed, but tried not to ..." She ran a finger to her left ear, scratching off flakes of blood. "Whatever hit us used sonics-augmented nanobots with digoxis-carriers and implanted them on us. We got disoriented and it was a double whammy, like something that bastard Krayn might have used." She worked her shoulders. "I'm feeling a little better."
 
"It was a trap, and you sprung the trap. I would have done the same thing myself." Obi-Wan nodded. "Nanobots have limited power supplies. They seem to have hit and hit hard, then run out of energy. You don't feel worse, do you, Ferus?"
 
"No, sir." Ferus straightened experimentally. "No, but I still feel like I've swum in a swamp and am covered with slime. What must the troopers feel --- "
 
"We'll do all we can for them. We led them into this." Siri drew her short smock over herself and still shivered. "Kenobi, I p-propose a laying on of the Force."
 
"I agree. Gather near. I can't move yet, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan restrained himself from scratching the purling bacta on his scalp. It had long since dried and was itching. "Anakin, can you move closer?"
 
"I'll try. And please don't quote Master Yoda." Anakin rolled over to his right side, stretching out his flesh hand to graze Obi-Wan's waist. Ferus knelt in the narrow space between the cots, then cursed and kicked at the cot. It flew one meter away and toppled and he bowed his head. Siri only looked her disapproval. She knelt next to Ferus and the two of them each took one of Obi-Wan's hands.
 
Obi-Wan gathered the Force. As a Councilmember, he had done this twice in the past three years and always gained strength from it. Even in his injured state, he anticipated pleasure from a Force-connection with Anakin, since they had no longer a physical connection, at least the way he liked one. He looked up at the camouflage ceiling of the tent and smiled slightly. The Force intensified. 

He can do this. Well, I could, too, if I weren't incapacitated. Siri felt the power grow in her, felt the effects of the digoxis become bearable and then the last of the spent nanobots fell from her skin. The fine gray metallic dust that gathered near her bare knees was no longer capable of harm. She saw Skywalker's hand rub little circles on Kenobi's waist. I guess he massages him after battles.
 
ARC5231 watched from his side of the tent. They would help us, too, if they could. I don't know how I know this, but I do. The fasciculations worsened slightly and his cot shook. 

Anakin sensed that his back had improved and that Obi-Wan's knee muscles were wrapping themselves more tightly around his loosened patella. Sure enough, the stabilization board now said 'one hour until safe removal.' Around their group, the Force hummed busily. Ferus raised his head and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. Siri shifted her weight on her knees and moaned. "Better, Kenobi. Thanks."
 
But Obi-Wan continued, pushing his strength past the envelope that Anakin knew so well. He plowed on, a delighted smile growing, his power flexing its muscle, until Obi-Wan sank back with a groan. Anakin felt no back spasms as he leaned far to the side and touched Obi-Wan's throat. "You all right?"
 
"What ... was that, that was invigorating, my sweet Padawan-dar--- "
 
"Erm, yes, you seem, ah, refreshed by all of us together and feeding into the synergy don't you think that's what it was?" Anakin heaved a breath to continue. "I'll bet that's what it was. Now you rest. You've got an hour before you can get up. I think we all need to have downtime." He lay flat once more. They don't need to know our business. 

"All right, all right, d--- old friend. I'm thinking fumigating the gear and clothing with ionized dioxis will neutralize the leftover digoxis and then the squadron can use them again. I'm going to tell the med-tech right now so they can get started, help me up ... "
 
"Corpsman! Drugs here, get this General drugs immediately!"
 
"Stop that. This is serious."
 
"So is your health. He'll come, you can tell him. You don't need to do everything yourself."
 
Siri felt exhausted, not invigorated. Don't know what they're talking about. "Ferus, how do you --- oh." Ferus slept, looking much like he had when Siri had looked in upon him nightly before retiring herself. "Good, young Knight. Sleep well." She pulled her smock's gaping neckline shut and tucked up her knees to conserve warmth under her single blanket. Kenobi and Skywalker, there's something about you two, can't put my f--- "zzzZZZZzz ... zzzzz ... zz ...zzzz ... "
 
Meanwhile, back on Naboo ...
 
Palo lay his double chin down on his studio worktable and placed a palm over each eye. He counted to ten. Then he opened his hands quickly to get a fresh impression of the HoloNet image on his holoemitter. Two figures moved and then froze before the loop began again so that he could get a sense of their kineticism, alone and together. He input to his sculpture tablet, he switched perspective, he peered at his work from underneath and from the top. Good enough. This cannot be holorealism, there must be some artistic presence, enough for a bidder to compare these items to others that he owns. I never thought I'd be doing this for such high stakes. He deliberately left the bottom of the holocard raw, so that the figure looked as if it emerged from the air rather than appeared as a clear doll with defined feet.

Palo nibbled at the chili dumpling that Dormé had left him for lunch and considered his work. It's art, yes. Not what I would choose to do, but I'm looking to hook a colo claw fish, not a puny opee sea killer. He swilled some more Corellian spiced ale. Liquor can only help me here. He upped the resolution and saved his work. He burped and thought of choosing a pseudonym to hide behind as he picked up a hologame and primed the basic action grid so he could begin anew. Padmé, you're endorsing me for Organa's official holoportrait. It's the least you can do.
 
TBC

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