Little Wolf Pup

Chapter Three

Alzena slipped on the clone armor, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The armor was far too big on her thin frame. She looked like she was playing dress up, not that she'd complain. She'd rather be in armor than that slave outfit. It made her feel safer, protected. It made her feel closer to Kix.

Quiet voices sounded in the main medical room: Kix's and Obi-Wan's. Sure enough, she poked her head round the door to find the two of them standing there. Well, Obi-Wan was standing there. Kix was clearing things up.

"How's she doing?" Obi-Wan was saying from his stance by the doorway.

"She's doing alright, General," Kix responded gruffly. "Although, I do wonder what happened to her."

"So, she didn't tell you," Obi-Wan sighed. "We found her on Kadavo system in a slave processing facility, doing manual labour. I suspect the burns were done on purpose," he turned to look at Alzena, softening his voice. "Am I right?"

Shoot. He'd seen her. Alzena hesitated, then nodded, looking up at Kix with wide, sorrowful eyes. The shame on the poor girl's face...

"I-I'm sorry." Her voice was barely audible.

Kix blinked. "They were what?"

Alzena gnawed at her lip. They were both staring at her, both wanting to know what happened. She did want to tell them, if only to appease these two powerful men, but something inside her balked at the idea.

"It...was my former master." Was all she could manage.

Kix's face hardened, his brown eyes darkening. But this time, that stare was turned on Obi-Wan.

"If anything happens to her, I swear..." He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to.

"I won't let anything happen to her." Neither man looked away from the other. Dominance, intimidation. Right? Although Obi-Wan seemed more serene, calmer than Kix.

Alzena looked back down at her hands. Obi-Wan's reaction to them was concern, she'd noticed. But the hesitant kind. Like he wanted to do something, but wasn't sure if it would be appreciated.

They were both being scary right now, though. And with everything that had happened in the past couple of days, well...it was a lot.

"What do you want with her?"

"I am here to escort her to her surgery, and then to her new quarters, where she will be staying for the time being. And," he paused. "I suppose, I also came for medical treatment."

Something told Alzena that second part wasn't his idea. She watched as Kix relented: he couldn't exactly refuse medical help, after all. Surgery, she thought. She'd be losing her hands. But surely, she'd be getting another pair? The technology here was top notch, and they couldn't have a Jedi without hands.

She stood watching as he tended to Obi-Wan's wounds, her hazel eyes studying the Jedi carefully: unashamed to see him shirtless. Really, she'd seen worse things.

Her stomach had tied itself into knots, and Alzena felt she would explode if she wasn't left alone to process everything that had happened. It had all gone so quickly.

It took so much effort to soften her voice, to be gentle with everyone right now, when all she wanted to do was hide away in a corner. She was vulnerable, but trying her hardest to be brave.

She wondered if that was perhaps how Obi-Wan was feeling. The thought made him a little less threatening, more approachable. His blue eyes were glazed over, his attention elsewhere. He didn't react to the pain of the bacta spray against his wounds.

She looked to Kix to see if he'd noticed, saw the grim look on his face, and took it as confirmation. Everyone else in the medical wing, all the injured and recovering clones...she and Kix had seen what no one else could.

"Why can't he use the bacta tank?" she dared to speak then. "It worked for me."

"No." Obi-Wan shook his head. Alzena frowned, her hazel eyes scanning his face. Nothing too obvious there.

"I know it can be uncomfortable, sir," Kix tried, "but trust me; you need this treatment for your injuries. It may not feel pleasant now, but it will ensure your recovery."

"I'm fine, Kix. Thank you."

Kix didn't understand because it wasn't logical, Alzena realised. Maybe Obi-Wan wanted to keep those scars as a form of punishment. Because he thought he'd failed in the mines.

She didn't like conflict. But it wasn't her place to speak, to tell them to quiet down. She was their slave. But she still had her methods. Alzena glanced at her hands, and blinked as hard as she could. Sure enough, tears started to well up in her eyes. She sniffled, still staring at her scars. Disfigured forever.

The effect was almost comical. Obi-Wan and Kix turned their attention on her so quickly that Alzena genuinely worried they'd get whiplash.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Kix knelt down in front of her, taking her ruined hands into his. "Did we scare you?" His thumb gently brushed over her scars, his brown eyes soft in concern for her.

Bingo.

She nodded, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

"I-I'm o-okay," she glanced over at Obi-Wan, who looked as if someone had ripped out his heart and torn it into pieces right in front of him. "I have... rooms?"

"Yes, everyone has their own room and privacy."

Alzena tilted her head sideways, confused.

"Pri-privacy?"

What was 'privacy'?

"Well, it's your own personal space. For you. To do whatever you like without other people getting involved."

He inclined his head for Alzena to follow. Alzena did so, waving goodbye to Kix as she hurried to catch up with the Jedi master.

"I've never had my own room before."

Obi-Wan sighed.

"I'm sorry, kid." People seemed to be saying that a lot to her.

"Why?" Alzena frowned, confused. "I-it's a privilege I never deserved."

"Alzena, that is not a privilege. Every sentient being has the right to their own rooms, and privacy."

"...oh," Alzena blinked. "So, medical treatment?" She was sentient, obviously. So, if this was true...then, for so long, she'd been neglected of her rights. For so long, she'd felt herself to be lesser than a person.

"Another necessity."

Alzena's eyes widened in shock, her eyes dropping down to her hands. She'd become so used to thinking herself worthless. She gnawed at her lip, considering this. There were multiple ways she could play this: keep being a victim, and keep getting hurt, become an aggressor and hurt other people, or do something different...

"Master, can you have scars on...um, metal hands?"

"Prosthetics," he answered immediately. "Yes, why do you ask?"

Alzena studied the burns.

"I'd l-like to h-have them."

"A very interesting choice, to be sure," he frowned down at her, and Alzena recognised confusion in his eyes. This was a question, she realised. He was asking her why.

"It'll re-remind me of where I came from," she said in return. "T-to keep me humble."

Obi-Wan turned his gaze on her, blue eyes searching her face. Alzena shrunk into his side, avoiding his stare. She'd lied to him, and now she desperately hoped he wouldn't realise, otherwise she'd be in trouble for it. A few seconds passed.

"I admire your resilience, young one," he said gravely. "But you should not feel the need to punish yourself in asking for these. Whatever it is, I believe it is not your fault."

Alzena lowered her head with a soft sigh, the action designed to yank on his heart strings. Obi-Wan relented immediately.

"However, if you wish it, I will arrange for it to be included."

"Thank you, Master." Alzena said, as sweetly as possible.