The Wookiee Flu

Kuhbee had decided that being sick was absolutely miserable.

The young Wookiee pup lay bundled beneath the blankets of a medical bed inside Shiraya's Sanctuary, his normally energetic little body drained by the Wookiee flu. His fur was warm and slightly damp around his face, his breathing heavy as fever pulled him in and out of restless sleep. Somewhere beyond the medical wing, Naboo carried on beneath bright skies, but Kuhbee barely noticed. A Jedi healer sat beside him, gently placing a cool compress across his forehead.

"Easy, little one," the healer, Pari Sylune murmured. "You're going to be all right. Just rest."

Kuhbee gave a weak little rumble in response before his eyes slipped closed again. The healer had warned him that the fever might bring strange dreams, and old places, familiar faces, even memories all twisted together with imagination. As the cool cloth rested against his brow, the quiet medical wing began to fade away.

Somewhere inside the fever, Kuhbee remembered...



Kuhbee could not have been more than two years old when it happened.

The clearing beneath the towering wroshyr trees rang with the excited yips, growls, and laughter of young Wookiee pups as they chased one another through the roots. It was Kuhbee's turn to be it, and the little Wookiee launched himself after his classmates with all the determination his short legs could manage. One pup darted around the enormous trunk of a wroshyr, and Kuhbee followed, reaching out with one furry hand…

His foot caught on a thick root. Kuhbee went sprawling face-first into the forest floor. For a heartbeat, everything went still. Then came the anger.

Kuhbee pushed himself upright with an indignant growl, his small fists pounding against the dirt. Once. Twice. Again. The other pups slowed, watching him from a cautious distance as his growls grew louder. Frustration burned hot and immediate in his little chest, far too large an emotion for such a small body.

Something unseen stirred with it.

The Force churned through the clearing like a sudden gust of wind. Leaves shuddered overhead despite the still air. The great wroshyr groaned, and with a series of sharp cracks, several branches tore loose from above.

They crashed into the clearing around the pups.

Shrieks replaced laughter as the young Wookiees scrambled backward, some diving behind roots while others fled toward their teachers. Kuhbee froze where he sat, his anger vanishing almost instantly.

He stared at the fallen branches. Then at his frightened friends. Kuhbee hadn't touched the tree, yet, somewhere deep inside, he knew that somehow he had done that.
Kuhbee sat quietly beside the viewport, far too still for a pup his age.

Beyond the transparisteel, the green world of Kashyyyk was growing smaller with every passing moment. Endless forests blurred into a single emerald sphere, and Kuhbee pressed one small hand against the glass as if he might somehow hold onto it. His ears drooped. A soft, mournful whine escaped him.

Jedi Master Sela Basran seated nearby, watched him for a moment before moving closer.

"Do not be sad, Kuhbee," she said gently. "This is not goodbye."

The young Wookiee looked up, unconvinced.

"You will see your people again," Sela continued. "But what happened on Kashyyyk showed us that the Force is strong in you. Strong gifts require discipline. You must learn to understand it. To control it."

Kuhbee glanced back toward the shrinking planet.

"One day, when you have mastered the Force, you may become a true Jedi."

The words should have sounded exciting.

But Kuhbee was still only a pup, and as Kashyyyk disappeared into the stars, all he really understood was that home was getting farther away.




Kuhbee had been so excited. The training room was full of older children, and some of them were already Padawans, which made them impossibly cool in Kuhbee's eyes. Even better, his friend Roman Vossari was playing too. Kuhbee bounded across the floor with barely contained energy as the game began, dodging, ducking, and throwing himself out of the way whenever the ball came near.

Then he jumped intot he air and slammed the dodgeball down with his paw.

"Out!"

Kuhbee stopped dead. For a moment he simply stared at the ball. Then his face twisted into an angry little scowl. He stomped one foot against the training room floor.

Crack.

He stomped again. Thin fractures spread beneath his feet as the Force surged with his frustration. A few of the other children backed away, and Kuhbee was winding up for another furious stomp when Connel Vanagor, Jedi Knight hurried over and crouched beside him.

"Kuhbee. Look at me."

The little Wookiee huffed and growled, fists clenched.

"It's only a game. Being upset is all right. Breaking the floor is not."

Slowly, the anger drained away.

Kuhbee looked down at the cracks beneath his feet. Then he noticed the other children staring at him. His ears lowered. A moment ago, he had wanted them all to think he was cool. Now he just wanted the floor to swallow him whole.


Kuhbee was at the New Jedi Order Temple on Coruscant when the broadcast came through: the Mandalorian Empire had seized control of Kashyyyk. For several stunned seconds, he could only stare at the holoscreen. Then a deafening roar tore from his throat. Panic and fury overwhelmed everything the Jedi had taught him as he bolted for the hangars, desperate to get home, shoving past anyone who tried to stop him while the Force lashed violently around him. It took several Jedi to restrain the young Wookiee, and even then he fought them with everything he had until a healer finally administered a sedative. As consciousness slipped away, Kuhbee was still struggling toward the doors, growling the name of his home.



Coruscant was burning.

The Galactic Empire's attack had thrown the Jedi Temple into chaos, and Kuhbee remembered other frightened younglings being hurried through corridors toward waiting evacuation ships. Some were crying. Others clung to their friends or teachers. Kuhbee barely understood what was happening before he was pushed aboard a transport and told that he was being taken somewhere safe.

They never made it.

Pirates attacked the ship during the evacuation. Kuhbee remembered blaster fire, screaming, and then strangers dragging him away from the only life he knew. Eventually, the young Wookiee was sold to a traveling circus, where his captors quickly learned how difficult he was to control.

So they used fire.

Torches. Burning brands. Flames thrust close enough to make him recoil whenever he growled or resisted. Kuhbee learned that fighting back only brought the fire closer.

Years later, he might forget the faces of the people who held those torches, but he never forgot the heat. He never forgot the smell. From then on, whenever Kuhbee saw an open flame, some frightened little part of him was back in that cage again.


Shiraya's Sanctuary was the first place in a long time that felt like it might become home. Rescued by the Jedi Order, Kuhbee began his training again on Naboo, throwing himself into every lesson with determination. He was especially excited when he learned he would have a roommate named Nien; the idea of having someone his own age nearby made the temple feel a little less lonely. Kuhbee worked hard, eventually earning a place at a small Jedi enclave on Chalacta where he could continue his training.

But even as he grew stronger in the Force, something still felt missing. Wookiees were creatures of community, bound deeply to family, friendship, and belonging. Kuhbee had lost his home, his people, and nearly every connection he had ever known. He wanted friends more than he knew how to say. Surrounded by Jedi, he was no longer alone, but sometimes, deep down, he still felt that way.


Kuhbee's eyes slowly opened to the soft light of Shiraya Sanctuary's medical wing. The cool compress still rested against his forehead, and for a moment he simply stared at the ceiling before giving a low, tired growl. The fever had dragged him through pieces of a life he had tried not to think about, Kashyyyk, the Jedi, fear, anger, loneliness, and all the homes he had lost along the way. But those were memories now. The past had already happened. As Kuhbee closed his eyes again, he wondered what would come after the fever finally broke.

For once, he hoped the future might hold something gentler.