Welcome! The title of this story is a play on a certification called Basic Life Support (BLS) for Healthcare Providers. All healthcare providers hold this certification, and it basically encompasses CPR/choking emergencies. However, since I love writing, making the poor characters suffer, and my job as an EMT, I decided I'd just give the rundown on many common medical/trauma mishaps that anyone might run into. Some all of you already know, some you might not. Stay safe and enjoy!

Simple Beginnings

Ahsoka shivered. Alone, her bravado faded, and she hugged herself tightly, curling into a ball in a hidden corner of the large hangar. Crates hid her from view, giving her a reprieve. Here she didn't have to make sure she was on her guard, she didn't have to be the loudest, smartest, strongest person in the room. She didn't have anything to prove.

"Ahsoka?"

Ahsoka yelped at the soft voice, leaping to her feet. Master Skywalker stood in front of her, his eyes glistening, his brow furrowed. Had she done something wrong? Was the mission not over yet? Saving face, she said, "I was just getting a feel for the hangar since I didn't have much time before. I was too busy telling everyone how I saved your life back on Christophsis, after all."

She gave the best smirk she could muster and sensed a twinge of annoyance from her master, who crossed his arms. Nevertheless, instead of a scowl, she got a smile. "I already told you on Teth, little one. You don't have to fake being strong. You are strong. And you'll only get stronger. But you also need to know when it's time to rest."

Ahsoka shifted uncertainly, rubbing her arms in a feeble attempt to warm herself. Tatooine had been too hot, but the sudden shift in temperature left her freezing. Coruscant was such a temperate climate compared to the chilly breezes on Christophsis, the humidity of Teth, the searing, baking heat of Tatooine (luckily Togruta skin was less susceptible to sunburn), and the frigid dry air of a spaceship. Her montrals were still ringing from the battle on Teth, and her heart was still beating so fast from fighting those magna guards on Tatooine. And everything hurt, stinging with little pricks and burns. Her clothes were torn in certain areas, her small, thin top barely holding together. She felt exposed and tired.

Gesturing with his head, Anakin's face softened. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

Hesitating for a moment, debating if she should try to retort, Ahsoka eventually relented and moved towards him. "I didn't do that badly."

"You did great, Padawan," Anakin reassured her, and she was suddenly warm, her heartrate slowing as calm trickled into her.

The two walked quietly through the hangar until they exited into a large hallway. Ahsoka hadn't been lying when she'd said she didn't really know where anything was. This place seemed so enormous. The walls hummed and occasional creaks or hisses from doors, vents, anything would make her jump. She didn't even know where Skyguy was taking her. Her legs started to tremble a little, her eyes drooping, and eventually, thankfully, they seemed to reach the end of their journey.

They were standing in front of a door, which Master Skywalker quickly opened. Walking in, Ahsoka saw a sink with a mirror above it against the right wall, and a small cot tucked away in the back left corner. A dresser was directly beside her to the left against the same wall as the door. The room was dimly lit by a light in the center of the ceiling.

"This will be your room on the Resolute," her master explained.

Ahsoka looked around in awe. She had her own room on this ship. The reality of her situation finally settled in her mind. She was with Skyguy till the end of the road now. And it had a sink and mirror! That was wizard! She was sad there was no window, though; at least her room in the Temple had a window.

"Sit on the bed," Master Skywalker ordered.

Ahsoka did as she was told, sitting gingerly, trying to hide a wince. Out of nowhere, Anakin put a small med kit beside her and knelt down to be just below eye level with her. Opening the box, he pulled out some bacta paste. Flicking his wrist, he effortlessly accessed the Force to turn the light up so he could see properly. Ahsoka marveled at how he didn't even seem to think about the gesture. She was so grateful to be the apprentice to such a powerful Jedi.

"You're going to have to start doing this on your own soon," Anakin said as he squeezed out some bacta paste over the dozens of cuts and scrapes all over her bare skin. Ahsoka hissed as the antiseptic made contact. "It's not going to be pleasant, but it's going to be routine. Especially in… well, we need to talk about your clothes."

"My clothes?" Ahsoka repeated, a little wary. Most Jedi wore certain traditional garb, and though many didn't care if Padawans chose to be more individualistic, some did disapprove of the gesture. She'd seen this outfit on HoloNet and thought it had looked wizard, and she was willing to defend it at least a little.

"Yeah. They're… impractical. Just look at yourself, Snips. Most of these cuts and scrapes would just be tattered fabric if you'd covered up some more. There's a reason the clones wear armor, you know."

Ahsoka felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She hadn't thought about that when she'd gone to Christophsis. She felt all the dumber since she had to struggle to hold her top in place, the fabric having torn almost a third of the way through when she'd fallen down the cliffside on Tatooine.

"You can wear this on missions if you want," Anakin added, shrugging as he looked her over. "I mean… I don't really care for it, but if you want to wear it, go ahead. Just not on the battlefield, okay?"

Ahsoka mumbled in agreement, slumping on the bed. Skyguy chuckled, tapping his finger lightly on her nose to get her attention. "You'll get used to all the little details of war, Snips. Don't worry."

The young Padawan would have replied if a hiss didn't immediately escape from her as her master cleaned some more wounds along her arms. Eventually he seemed to run out of paste from all the injuries along her chest, stomach, arms, shoulders, face, and back. Rising, he said he would get more.

"I can clean the rest, Master," Ahsoka said halfheartedly. She felt dumb letting him do this; she knew how to clean cuts and scrapes. At the same time, though, it was comforting having him there taking care of her.

"I know you can," Master Skywalker replied with a gentle smile. "But I can't be sure you know how to do it the right way, so I'll do it this time."

Ahsoka stiffened. "I know how to clean cuts!"

"I hope so. You wouldn't want to get an infection from something so insignificant."

Feeling berated, Ahsoka puffed out her chest. "I'm not stupid, you know."

Anakin chuckled. "Relax, Snips. I'm just messing with you. Just let me clean you up this time, okay? Besides, you've got a bad lac on your arm."

Ahsoka blinked. "Lac?"

"Lac. Laceration. Cut."

"Oh." Now she felt even dumber. She should have known that, right?

Sighing, Skyguy exited. Ahsoka glanced at her arms to see what he was talking about and saw a long gash tracing its way along her left upper arm. Sithspit. No wonder her arm hurt. Sitting in her room alone, she started to shiver again, and she knew Master Skywalker was right about her outfit. If nothing else, she didn't want to be freezing for the rest of her time as his apprentice.

The hum of the ship made her uneasy. She wished it could be quiet. Her montrals hadn't recovered from Teth.

Master Skywalker returned with more supplies and quickly resumed his work, and Ahsoka flinched when he finally started fiddling with the laceration. Taking a gauze pad, he placed it directly against the wound and held pressure there as he took a gauze roll and wrapped it around the pad and her arm.

"Leave this on for the rest of the day," he advised. "Tomorrow morning I want you to wash it thoroughly in the shower. If it still looks like it's open, wrap it back up. Any wound that seems to be open should be covered at least initially. Open skin is exposed to infection. Once it seems to be sealing or scabbing over it'll be ok to leave to the open air."

Ahsoka nodded, wondering how much other medical knowledge her master had. He'd seemed fairly clueless about the Huttlet's fever, but he also had seemed fairly disinterested in it as well. That might have been all it was. Or maybe he didn't know anything about medicine. Maybe any knowledge he had was just related to injuries because of everything he'd seen in this war. Ahsoka shuddered, trying to forget the images of fallen soldiers, the smell of melted flesh and armor.

Feeling a warm hand on her shoulder, she met her master's gaze. Concerned deep blue eyes looked into hers, and she felt her muscles ease. She felt safe.

"Get some rest," he said, patting her shoulder and standing. Ahsoka watched him leave, and she was filled with gratitude again at being his apprentice, though it was no longer about power.