Mismatched to Make the Whole
By Ladyravena
Author's Note: This idea came from the story by JadedFire called "The Clone," which at the beginning of my posting, was a WIP. I enjoyed the idea of it, so decided to do my own take of it. I chose not to use any of JadedFire's original characters, instead placing it completely in my own universe.
Waltz is mine, as well Eri'dantae, the rest Lucas owns. Standard disclaimers apply throughout. The work is complete, and is six parts long. Updated once per week until done...
Please Read and Review. The big button down there.
Part One
Awakening
So cold....
Awakening to shivers as the waters recede down the drains; the hum of the lid's mechanisms pulling back the transparasteel. The clank of droids against the sides, the vibrations matching shivers.
Eyes open slowly to command, focus completely off-kilter. Colours swirl into each other; a nightmare landscape, the familiar turned threatening by simple synaptic misfire. Breathing deeply, eyes narrowing, trying to focus on something...
Something hisses beside sensitive ears, startlingly loud to newly awakened senses. Another hiss and fire in the veins...medicines, the mind remembered. Vitamins, stimulants, things to combat the clone sickness at awakening....
I am that clone...realization like a tidal wave, cleansing the mind of confusion.
The droids move in and out of vision, slowly sharpening in sightlines.
Metallic arms lift a weakened body free of the last of the clinging fluid...worse than a bacta tank session, helpless in the cold, damp air to even push back tendrils of hair. Warmth in a towel wrapped around nakedness, replaced too soon by a robe that dropped to the floor...have I lost weight in the tanks again...questions beginning to form, the mind as quick as ever.
Settled down by med droids onto softness...the sofa ready to lounge on for tired nights after planning. Eyelids drooping down, body demanding rest and recovery after its ordeal, but the mind is running in circles...something is off, something that needs to be acknowledged. Frown moving muscles in an unlined face, eyes open once more, the body's demands forgotten.
Stumbling up on small feet, the legs remember walking only by hearsay. Slowly, leaning on droids and furniture alike, the legs make it to the door of the facilities. The shoulders lean on the door, pushing it open with gravity. The hands and arms brace the shivering body against the sink...too thin hands, finger long and delicate. Young hands, the mind reasons...
The head slowly lifts to the mirror that hangs in front of the eyes. The eyes do their part, bringing the close object and the reflection contained within into sharp focus, the background the only thing remaining blurry.
A young woman stared back at her, damp hair clinging to her face, blue skin pale in the harsh light.
A young woman stared back at her, damp hair clinging to her face...
A young woman stared back at her...
A young woman...