A/N: Well, it's finally here! I've been working on this story for about a month and a half, so I'm so happy that I've taken the first step in this journey. I'd like to dedicate this story to my aunt who also happens to be one of my best friends. Her disability is something like what my main character has, but not quite the same. I'm going to be putting a better description of her (my aunt) in my bio, so go there! Please read and review. I'd like to have your opinion.

NOTE: This has been re-written! Please tell me if you like it better.

Disclaimer: The universe belongs to The Great Flannelled One. These are my characters, and Marisaceans are a humanoid species of my creation.

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The votes were in, tallied, and ready to be announced. The crowd in the auditorium and the families sitting in front of their view screens at home anxiously awaited the announcement of Aquilaris' new Prime Minister. The candidates, Keelu Verasx, Stephen Molokai, Shanai-Rona Vagrés, and Varas Odai, were seated at the direct head of the gathering, the stress from the past few months easily visible upon their countenances. As the tension grew, becoming almost palpable, Varas turned her head slightly, her wavy white hair shimmering under the artificial lighting. With the corner of her mouth barely opened, she whispered to the woman next to her, "No matter what happens, we will still be friends, right?"

Shanai-Rona glanced over quickly, fleetingly, her green-gold eyes glinting, before responding with a sharp, "Of course."

The Marisacean allowed a small smile to grace her pale features. Varas had grown quite accustomed to the blunt responses and sharp remarks and retorts from Shanai ever since the beginning of the campaign, where they had become immediate friends. They would argue their hearts out at the debates, but behind the scenes, they could talk and laugh and be themselves. Now that the election was finally over, Varas wanted to be sure that she still had a friend in this woman. When it came to votes, everyone had predicted that Vagrés would win; she was the favorite of the reporters.

The chatter of the crowd began to gradually increase, and Varas looked up from her folded hands. A large man in elaborately decorated navy robes walked up the stage steps and towards the transparisteel podium. He raised a hand, and anxious silence soon blanketed the masses.

"It has been my great honor and pleasure," began the heavy-set man, his voice booming out over the volumeter, "to have been a part of this election. Let's give a big hand to our candidates."

The applause was like thunder and the photo-collector flashes were like lightning. Now, thought Varas with a slight quirk of her pink lips, all we need is the rain.

"Now," the booming voice began again. "The moment we all have been waiting for."

As he pulled out the envelope, Varas was willing to bet that if a Jedi had been here and ignited his lightsaber, he would have been able to slice the air like a slab of bread.

"The new Prime Minister of Aquilaris is..."

All she could hear was the beating of her heart and her slow steady breathing. She saw his mouth moving, but nothing came out until he said, "...Varas Odai!"

The sound exploded back to her as the cheers erupted. Someone was leading her to the stage, but she wasn't sure who held her hand. Belatedly, she realized that she was expected to make a speech. As quickly as she could, she composed herself with a long, deep breath.

"My thanks to all of you. I have never been so surprised or pleased. I hope that I will make all of you proud. As the final Marisacean of Aquilaris, I will-"

Her impromptu speech was cut off by a blinding, numbing sear of pain, and that's when the screams began.

"She's been shot!"

"Call the medicenter!"

The words sped through her mind like the many pod races she'd seen on-planet, but it made no sense...until she looked down at her shimmering white dress. But it was no longer white; blood was seeping through the glittering material near her right hip.

"Oh," was the only word that escaped from her mouth before she collapsed on-stage, succumbing to the black abyss that enveloped her.

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The first thing she saw was the white light. "Am I dead?"

A soft chuckle came from her right before a light tenor voice responded, "No. No, not quite."

She turned her head carefully, absent-mindedly noticing that she lay upon a medical bed. Standing next to her, carefully reapplying a bandage to her hip, was a kindly looking man, with graying hair and a twisted goatee. A pair of focal-correctors rested on the bridge of his nose, and his mouth was curved in a sad smile, as if he'd seen too many injuries, too many deaths, too many sicknesses, for one person to see in a lifetime. His hands worked quickly with many years of experience.

He pulled back the gauze carefully, and she gasped as a raw wound began to sting. The doctor delicately applied some bacta cream, and then resealed the wound. With tears in her eyes from the pain, she recalled what had happened. She remembered the shot, the pain, the screams.

"How long has it been since I was shot? The last thing I remember is collapsing onstage," she asked.

As he finished his work, he glanced up at her before saying quietly, "Only a couple of hours. It took me a little while to remove the poison. Somehow, the assassin was able to add Kouhun venom to the laser bolt. That's why you passed out so quickly on stage. It's amazing that you healed as quickly as you did. I'm just thankful that Marisaceans have the ability to block most of the harm that a poison can afflict. I'm glad you're alright."

"Thank you, sir."

"Irimore. Kenneth Irimore. Newly instituted Official Doctor of the Prime Minister," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "and a doctor for nigh thirty years."

"Thank you, Doctor Irimore. It's very brave of you to take on such a disastrous job as Head Physician of the Prime Minister," she smiled. "Do you know if they caught the shooter?"

"I'm afraid not, your Excellency," he sighed. "Security guards found nothing on the holo-recorders, and the place was in such an uproar that they couldn't get any real investigating done. I do believe that General Absk Killdarn, the Head of Security, has called in a request to Coruscant for Jedi assistance; we've never had an assassination attempt in the immediate aftermath of an election."

"I see. Well, we can only hope that the presence of the Jedi will quicken the advent of a solution," she surmised.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of his wizened mouth, but Doctor Irimore said nothing more. Varas assumed that it was a piece of his personal life and that she should not interfere.

"Is...there anything else that needs to be patched up, or am I free to go? After I'm healed, of course."

The smile vanished from Kenneth's face, and he glanced around the room as if trying to buy some time. On an impulse, she reached to grab the elder man's hand, as if to say, 'You can tell me.' This seemed to give him the confidence he needed.

"Miss Odai," he began warily. "Do you know how your race became…endangered?"

"Yes," she murmured, the maturity beyond her twenty years showing in her silver eyes. "They all died from MNDS. My mother—" she paused, her voice catching with tears. "She was fine at first, but then she became...limited. She couldn't do anything: couldn't move, couldn't eat, nothing. I'm not sure how it works, but I know that it is fatal."

"MNDS," he recited, "or Muscular Neuro-Deficiency Syndrome, kills from the outside in. The muscles in the limbs, like your fingers, are the first to cease their function. Gradually, every muscle in the body becomes disabled. The heart is the last muscle to go."

"And…" she began, even though she had known the truth from the beginning, "I have it?"

A long silence followed, the hum of the medicenter machinery vaguely distant, somehow, as if from a dream.

"Yes. I'm so sorry."

More silence. It was only after the room with its many blinking light and charts became blurry that she realized there were tears in her eyes. Angrily, she brushed them away and took a shaky breath.

"Is there anything we can do…to prevent it?"

"The heart failure is inevitable. But I've been doing some research, and there is a solution to the muscular inability. I can implant neurochips inside your limbs and brain, but not your heart; the danger level is too high in there. I could accidentally knock an artery loose, or cut a vein. You would bleed to death. I'm not going to take that risk; we're going to keep you around as long as possible. But these chips will enable you to walk and move until…." He left the sentence hanging, unwilling to finish the thought.

"Until I die," Varas finished for him. "How long do I have?" All previous fear had vacated her voice and a grim determination had taken its place. She would not surrender her life to this condition.

"Five months…maybe six," diagnosed Irimore, his voice dull like an unsharpened knife.

Varas's mind was racing; she knew she was running a race she couldn't win, but by all higher powers, she would get as close to the finish line as she could. She looked up at the doctor, her eyes fierce, piercing.

"We have no time to lose, Doctor," a dangerous edge to her voice. "How soon can the operation take place?"

He hesitated for a brief second before replying, "Tomorrow morning at the earliest. I'll need to set up for the operation this afternoon and tonight, and then we'll be ready to start about…" he glanced at the chrono upon the white wall behind her, "7 tomorrow."

"Very well. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to have some time to myself…so I can think."

Kenneth gave a quiet nod of understanding before turning towards the door. As his hand reached to palm open the door, Varas remembered something.

"Doctor Irimore!" He paused, his back still facing her. "Don't tell anyone about this. I don't like the press knowing about my private affairs. Let them believe that it is only an assassination attempt. We can handle matters easier that way."

He smiled at her over his shoulder, sympathy, care and loyalty present in his whole demeanor. "Of course," he said, and he was gone, leaving the young ruler amid her wandering, mournful thoughts. Of one thing she was certain: there would be no sleep tonight.