Coughing harshly as awareness hit Qui-Gon like a ton of painful bricks, the Jedi blinked heavily as the sounds of crying and yelling sounded, his head throbbing as he tried to remember what in the world had happened.

His last memory had been…

“Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan.” He rasped, reaching out through their bond for his padawan as he struggled to sit up, pushing wood and duracrete off himself as he sat up, groaning in pain.

They had been walking down the street among the crowd of beings, their mission done, they were suppose to go home and then Obi-Wan had paused and looked around with confusion.

The boy must have felt something or noticed something with his hyperfocus, something Qui-Gon had not noticed, because a moment later, panic had crossed his face and he had opened his mouth.

It had been too late though.

The world had promptly exploded into a million pieces, wood and duracrete of the shops around them flying and something had hit Qui-Gon hard, sending him into the real of unconsciousness.

Struggling up on his knees, Qui-Gon looked around, barely recognizing the street from before, debris everywhere along with fire.

The shop Obi-Wan had paused in front of was fully gone, a crater left behind where it had once been.

The sight was enough for Qui-Gon to understand the gist of it.

The shop had exploded, whatever it had been and now there were injured and dead people all around the damaged shops.

And Obi-Wan was no where in sight, his padawan was unconscious and Qui-Gon had to find him.

Shaking as he struggled to his feet, Qui-Gon wrapped one arm around his ribs while scanning the area. He knew where he had last seen Obi-Wan, but if the force of the explosion had sent hi-wait, that boot…

Qui-Gon struggled towards what looked like half a wall, a familiar pair of boots sticking out from under it, stumbling over debris as people hurried around him, everyone trying to help and find others.

“Obi-Wan!” He rasped out as loudly as he could, kneeling down at the wall.

With a bit of Force as his ribes were strained already, Qui-Gon managed to push it up and away, finding his padawan laying still and pale beneath it, breathing shallowly with a thin stream of blood coming from his nose.

Cursing quietly, Qui-Gon reached out and started gingerly touching Obi-Wan’s neck, carefully testing it before breathing out in relief as he pulled the boy into a recovery position. ‘At least he hasn’t damaged his neck.’ Qui-Gon thought grimly, pausing when Obi-Wan’s little dice fell out of a damaged belt pouch.

Picking it up, Qui-Gon placed the stimming tool into his own belt pouch, knowing his padawan would want it back once he was conscious.

“Alright, hold on imp, just hold on.” Qui-Gon whispered, doing what he could as he looked around, hoping the medics and local law enforcement would come soon. His large hand rested on Obi-Wan’s forehead as Qui-Gon struggled to breath, his damaged ribs requiring him to take shallow breaths.

‘One hell of an end to a first mission.’ He couldn’t help but muse darkly to himself, blinking blood out of his eyes, likely steaming from a cut up in his hairline.