Prologue: Shattered
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"...Oh, gods..."
"I can't believe it..."
"...impossible!"
"How...?"
Your eyes open to a chaotic blur of light and colors and sound (but not smell, you no longer have that) and oh so many sensations you're overwhelmed, oh Force oh gods help me out you should think, but your mind is just too blank, too tired, and your eyes feel like closing again...
"...awake..."
"...restrained..."
Your world turns dark as your eyelids touch the tired circles under your eyes, but the voices are still there, muted whispers reverberating, melting into nothing like ice in blistering heat...
Heat. Fire. Pandemonium.
Your eyes snap open, just like the explosion that rocked your world a day? week? month? year? lifetime? ago. Where are you now? Why do you feel so weak, so naked, so... empty? Why don't you remember anything before this situation (whatever this is), just jumbled, meaningless flashes? Why can you only remember one thing? This ubiquitous, intangible (yet you know it's reachable, somehow) presence... What is this thing? Why is it following you, promising things beyond your reach?
Thinking has taken too much of your forcefully-repressed energy. You suddenly remember that you should breathe. You gasp and gasp, but your chest is tight—thankfully, you notice the oxygen mask clinging to your face. Your ruined lungs sing in joy, expanding and contracting in relief as precious air fill your alveoli.
But not in a nearly enough amount. Enough to keep yourself awake, but not refreshed. Just like those days with your master—oh Force, I'm remembering! I'm remembering! I'm—
"I see you're awake,"
You take another breath, trying your best to focus on the face— if there is indeed a face—of the speaker before you, but no matter how watery your eyes are becoming, your vision still blurs in places, and you squint as another memory comes back to mind: you require optical aid.
"...Can you...can you see me?" the voice asks, hesitant. You shake your head. No use lying here, you think, but the back of your mind keeps tingling, warning you for reasons unknown...
You hear some rustling as the only violet in the white room moves towards you. "Can you see me now?" Your eyes try to meet his (or are they hers?), to no avail. You shake your head once more. "But you can hear me, right? Sir?"
Sir. The title tugs on your subconscious.
But why would anyone call me that? I'm not... That tingling again.
"Sir? Can you hear my voice?"
You nod.
"Very good," the voice says. "Now I would like your cooperation in this."
Cooperation? Why is that word so familiar... Painfully so...
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"You've failed again!"
Then fire flies from pale, gnarled hands...
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"...Sir?"
(The violet being's voice cuts your train of thoughts, but for once, you're thankful. You remember what it entailed.)
You incline your head in acknowledgment.
"We will retrieve your armor before the questioning session,"
You freeze, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. Armor, he says. Armor. Armor means protection. Support. From blaster bolts. Vibroblades. From danger... Life-support! Your memories begin to trickle back into you, one wheeze of a respirator at a time...
The violet being speaks again, but he misunderstands. "We'll only ask you a few questions, there's no need to worry..."
Few questions? Why do they need to do so? You only remember a "mission"... A royal family cowering in fear... Then everything went black. And there was heat, and pain, excruciating pain... What have you done wrong?
"...Lord Vader?"
The moment you hear that name, you remember everything.
Hello! I'm underscored umlaut, also known as Reg, and this is my first fanfiction on this site. Tell me what you think- be it a simple praise or a wall of text insulting my grammar- they can help me improve. Thank you for reading!
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Chapter One - Complete
Chapter Two - In Progress
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Huge thanks to Talicor and my sister for the support!