Hello everyone !
Apologies for the delay, I seem to have gotten myself into a dead end with this and getting out was...tricky.
Plus I had a whole pile of exams and homework to get through.
I'm warning you, this one's not very funny, nor is it intended to be. There's a lot of plot I have to feed you guys, and this is one chunk of it.
Now, for my reviewers :
-allias : next level-up ? May I ask what your security clearance is ? But otherwise, you pretty much nailed it. Though I refrained from communicating the message to the crew, some of them would get pissed. And Firefly, jealous. He likes having the monopole of snark.
-jediavatar : I guess I owe you an apology, here you promised to look at your inbox more often and what do I do, I don't update for quite some time. So, sorry, I know how disappointing that can be. Hope you did well on your exams, but if not, I hope this cheers you up...a bit...even though it's not all that cheerful...you know what, I'm gonna shut up before I dig myself deeper. I'm glad you enjoy the format, I think I'll keep doing that periodically.
And special thanks to Shadow893, Janantha, and Firedragon99, for favoriting.
Corrected edition. Please do continue pointing out to me any spelling mistakes, and more importantly, things that don't add up. I'm trying to write things that make sense...once you've got all the data.
Well, enjoy, and merry Christmas to all of you !
Chapter 36 :
I hate hospitals.
I really do.
That's not uncommon. Hospitals aren't meant to be loads of fun. Even though they'd be far better if they were.
Do you know why I hate hospitals ? Sure, you've got some idea, such as the horrid smell, the distasteful audio background, the tasteless decoration, the oppressive atmosphere...
Well that's bullocks compared to my reason.
I hate them because being there means I'm injured. Yes, so obvious yet how many of you guessed it right away ? I believe not many.
This time is no different. I feel awful, and I'm not all there half the time. Delirious, some would say. I'm having flashbacks...or flash-fronts...as in, visions...I'm not sure. I'm heavily sedated anyway, it probably doesn't carry any sort of meaning. Or does it ?
I'm having trouble keeping track of them anyway. I don't see things distinctly to begin with, but when they're in a fast sequence with no logical order, well...I lose data. A lot of it. I wish Chip could record them. I miss having him talk to me.
Sometimes I hear things from a slightly different perspective. I'm guessing it's due to the fact that they're outside sounds, as opposed to the mayhem taking place in my head. And when I manage to actually make sense of the words, they're not reassuring.
«How is he Master ?»
Bastila's voice. She comes in fairly often...as far as I could determine anyway. My sense of time is slightly messed up. Somehow her presence isn't as reassuring as one would think.
«Stable for the time being. However we will have to operate on him.»
Operate ? What, is it really that bad ? There's an increasingly fast beeping sound next to my head, it's very annoying.
«He can hear us, Bastila whispers.
-That much is obvious» the other person agrees.
Follows a hushed conversation, but I drift away in the middle of it. In my drug-induced stupor I see two faces, a man's and a woman's, smiling down at me. They're quickly replaced by the image of high buildings of a vaguely familiar design...Taris ? Then I see the bombing. People screaming, the sound of explosions, rivers of blood flooding the streets...and then...
And then...darkness.
When I emerge from there I'm even more disoriented than before. Yes it's possible. I don't feel anything, hopefully that's good. I can't hear anyone either. Night shift perhaps ?
I try to open my eyes. It's not as easy as I expected it to be. I concentrate. At least one eye has to cooperate, doesn't it ? It's my eye after all...
Hm, how does the saying go...when the master is away the padawans will play ? Or was it an animal metaphor ? Well, it doesn't matter really. The point is, I can't do it. My organs must have established a different chain of command in my absence. Alright, I'm nothing but flexible. I call upon the Force. One can sense one's surroundings with that, it's pretty fascinating actually.
Focus is eluding me unfortunately. Is the entire universe conspiring against me on this one ?! Which in short means : 'oh no you don't !'. Most powerful energy source in existence notwithstanding, you will obey me, for I suffered a couple of months' worth of Jedi psychobabbling and quite frankly dull propaganda to strengthen my contact with you !
After fumbling around my control tower I finally manage to get my computers operational. I look at the screens. The picture isn't top quality, that's for certain, but I can work with that.
I'm laid out on a bed, in a small, practically bare room, save for a nightstand covered in bottles and the Worthy only know what else, and a couple of machines which appear to be wired into me. Suspicious. And definitely not comfortable. No windows, one door only. What, did they have to hide me from the rest of the world ? Hm, perhaps they did indeed.
I'm not alone. There's someone sitting on a chair nearby, looking down at something in his/her lap. (S)he didn't notice I'm awake.
To be fair I'm not certain I'm awake myself.
So what do I do now ? Obviously I'm trapped here, if only because of my health. But really, what is the matter ? From what I can remember, I had just plugged Chip in a power outlet, then went to get...what was it again ? Ah, yes, Nemo's 'saber. You see I've been experimenting with it. Trying to figure out how the late Knight constructed his weapon. It's actually very entertaining, like a 3D puzzle with an extra Force component. A 4D puzzle then. Excellent when one is fighting off boredom, and trying to suppress a very uncomfortable feeling gnawing at one's insides.
Lastly I remember my head throbbing, having a vertigo, then losing consciousness. So, obviously, since the only thing that changed from usual is my stopping the pills, I'm addicted to them somehow. Though I don't think it's a normal addiction, as in drug addiction. I would have had to experience withdrawal, and I probably wouldn't have blacked out like this. I believe I'd have been hurting, for very long before anything of the sort happened. Presumably I'd have been next to useless during that time too.
When I examined the pills I had Chip run some research on the components. He told me some of them were used in immunology-repressive medication, in coagulants, and in local painkillers. No mind-affecting substance apparently, though I'm not certain information about those would be so freely disclosed. I'll have to snoop around a little bit more.
Nevertheless, I have to consider the possibility that the pills, which I'm now accustomed to taking, are in fact preventing me from having some kind of seizures or feeling an old wound. In which case, whoever fiddled with my mind didn't want me to find out about the wound, because, presumably, it would indicate that 1) my memories are fake, but I already guessed that; and 2) it could lead me to my real identity, which the culprit wants to keep from me. Didn't work out so well, huh ?
However let's proceed with caution. I'm in Jedi territory here, and if I'm right when I speculate that Jedi are the ones who wiped out my memory, there's a high probability that they'll use this occasion and try to straighten out the mess. Read : erase all the progress I've made. So, I have to prepare my mind.
Lucky me, I don't have anything better to do. Ahem...going under. To the barracks. I usually avoid that place, there are...not very recommendable individuals in there. But, you know, they do their job. Hm, I have to act thougher than I am though. Otherwise I'm getting absolutely zero respect. Regardless of the fact that I'm the all-powerful one in the story.
Getting there is proving trickier than I first thought. There are...bubbles of unconsciousness in the path, floating there stealthily and waiting for me to lose focus and bump into one. Stupid drugs flooding my blood vessels. However after this sometimes intense game of twister I finally arrive at destination.
An electrified fence closed by a high gate surrounded by CCTV denies me passage to the military grounds. Two bored-looking sentries eye me curiously, repeaters in hand but not yet aimed at me.
I salute them, and after cinvincing them I am really myself, one of them agrees to call their superior officers and verify whether I have clearance to be in there. Meanwhile the other one is frisking me, which is, as you may imagine, a really enjoyable experience. Man, he's being impossibly thorough !
I guess I'm the only one to blame though. They are after all the embodiement of my least trusting part.
Confirmation comes through. However this does not mean I'm let in just like that. Oh, no, they mean business here. No, I'm bound, gagged, blindfolded, then thrown in a hovercraft with earplugs in place. I don't protest, what would be the point ? It's not like they're hostile or anything, they're just...really cautious.
The vehicle is driven with such care so that I can't determine its route. Plus, I can imagine the copilot aiming at me with his weapon all the time.
All I can reasonably do is count the seconds until we stop, but let's face it my mind-clock isn't precise enough for that information to be significant.
Doesn't matter. The hovercraft stops abruptly, and I'm carried from there by two guards. Then, finally, I'm set down, in a chair by the looks of it. I'm tied up to it, then my senses are freed from their restrictions. Discreet and fast footsteps are fading away behind me, then a door slams. I'm alone with…
Great, it's this one.
I knew I wouldn't be speaking with the head of the barracks directly, and that I'd be dealing with one of the officers right below him. There are five, each representing one element and the way it's used to destroy. You know which ones I mean I'm sure : fire, earth, water, wood and metal. Each has his - or her - own, very distinct character. Unsurprisingly I get on quite well with Fire, and I have no hostility towards the other ones - though some of them are, at times, quite annoying. Except for one.
«Greetings, I engage conversation.
-Save it, Golem (yes, that's his name. He's Metal) snaps. What do you want ?
-Well, I-
-Liar.
-Hey, you didn't even let me finish ! I protest.
-I didn't have to, you were going to lie, he states.
-Why would I do that ? I shake my head.
-I don't care for speculation, he retorts mechanically. I know you.
-Or so you think, I grin.
-What do you want ? he repeats.
-I bring news, I fire as fast as I can before he cuts me short again.
-A call would have sufficed, he grunts.
-Doubtful, I comment.
-Explain.
-There is an impeding attack on Mens (that's what it's called here), so I thought you'd appreciate the heads-up, I obey.
-Liar. You thought no such thing.
-I seem to have forgotten your complete lack of humor, I mutter pensively to myself.
-Smartass. Out.
-No, wait ! I object hoping to stop his minions from grabbing me again. I apologize, alright ? I just really need you to-
-I'll take it into account, now begone.
-Ouch, rude» I wince just before being blindfolded again.
Great, another success. I'm being manhandled out of here now. Well I'm not going willingly this time. Although I have little interest in antagonising them all, so I use my command of this place to...call Rocket. That's Fire, by the way.
Sure enough I'm lowered down a few paces further, and I'm allowed to use my senses again. My wrists are still bound together. I look up and am presented with the widely grinning face of my saviour. While Golem is quite featureless, Rocket is very expressive. She's got yellow and orange hair with red roots (unexpectedly), red eyes, brownish skin, and one arm missing. That was due to a spat they had with Spring (Water), who, while not easily provoqued, is the master of great displays of rage. Tore the limb off just like that and swallowed it.
As I said, there are unusual people here.
Rocket makes a move as if crossing her arms, only with, you know...one arm. It would look ridiculous but for the fierce glare she's pinning me in place with. She cocks an eyebrow.
«To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit ? she inquires.
-Nothing much, as usual, I chuckle in relief.
-Right, the same kind of nothing that involves apocalyptic scenery and legions of faceless intruders storming the streets of Mens I imagine, she snickers.
-As I said, pure routine, I nod.
-So what is it this time ?»
I explain that we're probably going to suffer a Jedi assault and that we'd better get some defensive plan in motion. Naturally, with her being as volatile as she is, she immediately bursts in action.
«I don't suppose you want me supervising ? I propose.
-No, that's fine, you're a civilian, she rebukes me quickly. I'm rounding up the others, you stay out of the way.
-Fine by me, I shrug. Though I'll be watching your progress.»
She merely signalls for the guards to see me out and vanishes in the corridor. As I'm nearly out the door, through my re-installed earplugs I still manage to catch the eardrum-killing shrill the base's alarm system is belching. Good. At least they're taking this seriously.
I certainly hope Rocket will be able to convince the others to move. She may be very willing to do her best, she's by no means the most level-headed of them all. I'm relying on Oboe's (Wood) tactics, Spring's steadiness, Golem's stamina, Rocket's enthusiasm and Stoneheart's ability to keep them all working together. They're a fine team when they join forces. But that doesn't happen very often...fortunately.
No, the comparison with my real-world so-called team is not lost on me. Though I do have to drag along far more dead-weights than those five, I'll tell you that.
Well, I suppose what I have to do now is hide my most precious pieces of information. And make it so that the Jedi believe they managed to deprive me of them.
I do love a challenge.
I'm drowsy again, but not completely out of it. I can feel activity around me, bustling of fabric, hushed voices, footsteps, beeping. I love the attention, I'm telling you.
More worryingly I have the unpleasant feeling that somebody is rummaging through my guts. Which is probably the case. I must be on the operating table. Hm, I had better not manifest myself too much, I'd like to know what's happening without being put to sleep again. Though I hope the painkillers won't wear off as well.
I think they cut something in there. Eww. I'm not exactly at ease around squishy, slimy things oozing bodily fluids, even if they're part of me. Well, especially in that case. Because I can't really walk away then. Besides the sounds it makes...it's just gross. I'm leaving it to your imagination.
Fortunatey I don't hear all of it. It's pretty much drowned out by the surgeon giving instructions and the rest of the circus.
«Screwdriver.»
Er, what ? What the hell would he need a screwdriver for ? I'm not some cyborg, am I ? My surprise must've shown on one of their heart monitors or something for I feel I'm being injected with another dose of traquilizant. Well I'm not going to sleep, but I allow myself to relax. And I listen carefully.
«Tissue.»
Okay, that's a logical one. The next instructions are what I'd expect to hear in any operation on a human being, so I'm starting to believe I must've misheard the first time. It wouldn't have been surprising after all.
Odd, I feel as though there's a heavy weight lifted off my spine. Surely they're not removing organs...are they ? I can't recall there ever being a need for guts removal in withdrawal cases. Granted, I'm not an expert in the medical field, but still. It's a tad of an overkill to my mind. Right ?
Boy, I don't want a transplant ! Some other guy's stomach processing my food ? Just thinking about it makes me queasy. But then I've always wondered where they found donors, I mean it's not like you can just walk into a clinic and say 'hey, I'm feeling generous today, I'm giving up my brain', is it ? Perhaps they scavenge organs on fresh corpses...yuuuuck !
Hopefully the medical corps had scientists create a cloning procedure. Fingers crossed.
«Master, what are you...?»
Bastila ? What is she doing here ? Supervising ? Well, I shouldn't be surprised. She is after all responsible for me. And bonded with me to boot.
Though the Master obviously didn't invite her to the show, judging from his reaction :
«Bastila, you shouldn't be here.
-I am wearing the proper attire, and Eidan is my charge, she objects politely but firmly.
-Perhaps, but you are not ready, the Master tries to use his mystical presence to dismiss her.
-I am no longer a young apprentice Master, I have fought the Dark Lord himself, I am certain I can withstand the sight of a little blood, she retorts.
-Watch your tone, Padawan, he scolds. However I suppose you may have earned your stay here.
-Thank you Master, she probably bows to him. Which brings me to my earlier-
-No, Bastila, he cuts her short. You may not question the procedure. It is very delicate as it is.»
She's quiet then. But wow, I'm impressed. Bastila actually standing up to a Master...did she grow a spine on Kashyyk ? I'm so proud. In that case I may have a better chance at getting intel through our bond. True, I'm risking she would discover I'm not asleep anymore, but hey, it's worth a shot.
Ah but I'd also risk a breach in my inner defenses...and I really don't want that. Perhaps another time then.
Some time passes, I'm not sure how long. I stopped counting the beeps when I got another shot of whatever drug they're using.
Until I feel a sharp spike of worry embedding itself in my heart. Sure didn't come from me.
«Master, what...?!»
Bastila. Sounds distressed. Startled, hurt, disappointed, I'm not exactly sure which. But I don't like it one bit.
My senses are all assaulted at once. My mind is under attack ! I was damn sure they'd try to pull off a stunt like that. Predictable bastards. I immediately materialise in HQ, requesting a status report. Enemy sighted trying to break down the front door. Crude, really. It may be a diversion though. Golem's troops are guarding all obvious access points, so whoever is out there is going to have a tough time.
Meanwhile I go check with Stoneheart's scouts on the rest of the perimeter. They didn't see or sense any other intruders. But...I don't know, it sounds fishy, all of it. I mean, Jedi, they're trained to make other people's minds yield to their mastery, right ? Even other Force-Sensitive people...such as myself. And I very much doubt that their most efficient strategy consists merely of barging in and winning through brute force. In fact, if I rely on my memory fragments and guesswork about my former identity, I infer that I must have put up quite a fight against the memory-wipe. Stronger than what I came up with now I would imagine, and yet my troops are quite easily maintaining my attackers at bay. For the moment at least, true, but still…
Oh wait.
Damn, did I have to think about that ?! Stupid, stupid ! My whole operation was based on…!
My heart stops when I hear a sickening ripping of tissue behind me. I let my eyelids drop defeatedly and I sink to my knees. I sigh. My greatest blessing, and my most damning curse. My chaotic, unhinged, out of control thought process.
«What did you do that for ?!» Rocket's exasperated shout slaps me in the face.
I shake my head, and chuckle mirthlessly.
«You know me, I answer. No reason.»
I hear heavy, military stomps coming up from behind me. That would be the Order's legions. With fortifications we had a good chance of beating them. With the secrecy surrounding the location of the information they seek, we might have won. But as it stands ?
I'm pulled up to my feet very roughly.
«You messed up, that's typical, Rocket hisses. But you giving up ? No way in hell I'm gonna stand for that ! They make you soft at that Enclave of theirs ?»
Hey, what do you know. She's right. What do I have to lose ? Make them bastards fight for it. If I'm going down...I'm making sure that puny so-called 'Master' is at least sent to a nuts-home for the rest of his pathetic life !
I whirl around and come face to face with a gazillion faceless dark silhouettes armed with...I don't know exactly. It kind of reminds me of these horror zombie holomovies, if you're familiar with the concept. Well, undead or not, products of my sometimes overactive imagination or not, I'm pulverizing the sons of questionable descent.
Power is vibrating through my soul as lightning bolts gather around my fists. I crouch, then, a feral grin twisting my lips, I release the deadly beam.
«Master !»
A panicked voice comes to me faintly. Whose, I no longer know. All I'm concerned with is the satisfying rate at which my opponents are getting disintegrated. I have the impression they're falling faster than they're being replenished...perhaps there is hope after all ?
Well, no. I'm not the only adaptable one apparently. More power is being used to subdue me. And drugs. I now have to not only put up with more of those troopers, I also must watch out for mind-affecting substances hoping to catch me unaware.
Where's the cavalry when you need it ?
«I demand to know-
-Go, child.
-No, I must-
-That was an order !
-They will destroy each other !
-Then help them not to.»
Two female voices. One young, one older. Why am I even overhearing that ? I have enough on my plate as it is !
The rumble of thunder echoes in my skull, and I know what's going to happen. So I redirect my focus to levitate myself off the ground. Just in time too, for suddenly a huge wave of water sweeps off the whole army and throws it out. Curtesy of Spring, yes ? Then an earthquake - mindquake ? - causes the ceiling to crumble and its debris to block the way. Thanks, Stoneheart. Hopefully it won't have lasting effects on my psyche...
But I'm pretty sure that is far from being the end of it. Certainly not. And I'm right.
Suddenly a ghastly moan storms through the corridors of my mind, and an ice-cold wind pierces me to my very heart. A distinct shudder dazes me - temporarily - and I fall down, motionless. What is that ?! It didn't come from the outside...not directly anyway.
A blast makes me look up, only to see the improvised obstacle getting pulverized by whatever explosive. Great. And is it just me or are the intruders somehow...taller ? And glowing ? They seem fiercer, that's for sure.
Quick movement by my ear indicates Rocket's arrival. I hope those hides of theirs don't smell of flesh when they're incinerated. I'd hate that.
Fire bursts from Rocket's outstreched hand and lights up the legion. At first they cower away, moving as if they were in pain (they make no sound, so no crying out. Kinda creepy). But then...then the glow intensifies, and the fire dies. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, all gone.
That sucks. Big time.
And why in the Twelve Constellations am I still paralysed ?! What sort of power could subdue me in my own...?
Oh wait.
Damnable Battle Meditation. If I'm getting out of here with one shred of memory, she is so not living this down. Predictable, but not forgivable.
And I'll be damned if I don't fight this all the way. I sense another power source, more destructive, if less reliable...worth a try.
I reach out for Darkness.
«NO ! We must pull out ! NOW !»
Bastila's voice ? Surprising.
A tear is beginning to form at my fingertips. An orb of...nothingness. Pure anti-matter. Ready to be hurled at my attackers. I see them hesitating. Well, perhaps I won't have to make use of it after all...
Then intense pain explodes at the back of my head, and I black out.
I'm in the early stages of waking up. You know, that sensation of being aware, and at the same time disconnected, still in limbo...it's a nice feeling. Sensations from the outside laced with shreds of imagination floating lazily around your head...vague recollections of the past without the darker parts, and expectations for the future without the worrying. It's relaxing. It's been a while since I got to enjoy this. How long ? I'm not sure. What does it matter ?
The fabric underneath me is soft, clean judging from the smell, there's a light scent of flowers tickling my nose, and the tranquil light of a rising sun teasing my eyelids. Hm...I'm not certain I wish to wake up. That would mean going back to...what ? A mission...it's important, I know. Vital, some would say. What was it...meh, let's think about it later. Chances are, as soon as I give signs of awareness I'll be bombarded with details about it anyway.
As my senses sharpen with my progressive leaving of the world of dreams, I perceive another scent from my right. It's familiar...slightly. It doesn't make me very happy. I surmise it's related to something...or someone...not very dear to me. Although the smell itself...it's not repulsive.
I furthermore notice light footsteps walking across the room I'm in from time to time, stopping to my left, staying there a bit, then leaving as quietly as they came. Okay, stalker mayhaps...wait, I'm not back in Vicky's clutches, am I ?
I shoot up, eyes wide open, heart racing. The very thought is...disturbing. My gaze falls upon an almost empty room, dominant color white, filled with mostly empty beds. An infirmary. Textbook. Not Vicky then. Good.
«Eidan, you're awake !»
Relieved voice, even if a slight, well-hidden hint of wariness makes it tremble. I immediately focus on the one who spoke. A young, dark-haired woman with grey inquisitive eyes, dressed in a brown robe covering a beige tunic, is sitting at my bedside. Normally the presence of a nice-looking lady waiting on one to wake up from...whatever it was that put one in a hospital...should be heartwarming.
Not for me, and certainly not now. First there's the fact that I don't know her. Or at least, she seems familiar, but I can't quite pinpoint where I saw her, or when. Then, the fact that attractive women just don't come to me without ulterior motives than just enjoying my company. I wonder what this one's are. Then, I have to consider her attire, which is distinctive of...whom ? Not allies, that much I remember. And last, but not least, she's armed, not me. How do I know ? I just do. Those piercing eyes are telling me as much. There's just something about her...she's powerful. And not my friend.
But, if she knows my name, and if she needs me awake...perhaps I could use it to my advantage.
«Obviously» I quip without thinking it through.
Now where did that come from ? Do I have to antagonise her right away ? What sort of imbecile am I ?
But she only smiles thinly, and I see recognition flashing in her eye.
«I should have expected as much, she shakes her head. Eidan Hopkick does not wake up from extensive surgery without annoying the first sentient he sees.»
So, Eidan Hopkick, eh ? We're making progress here. But if I underwent surgery...perhaps appearing disoriented would be justified. Questions time.
«Surgery ? I raise an eyebrow. As in, 'let's cut his flesh, look inside and see what's what' ? What, was I drunk enough to agree to it ?
-Surgery, as in saving your life, she sighs aggravatedly.
-That bad, huh ? I smirk. And am I saved yet ?
-Until your next utterly idiotic move, she nods.
-I resend that, I raise my finger. You'll find that I am extremely intelligent when the situation calls for it.
-I 'will' find ? she frowns. Eidan, are you feeling well ?
-Just peachy, I dismiss the concern silently berating myself for assuming too much. Well, not exactly. I'm thirsty, any chance of getting a decent glass of ale around here ?
-None whatsoever, she states. You may have water.
-I'm afraid that will simply not do.»
I sit up, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand on my feet before she has the chance to try and stop me. Then I realize I'm dressed in one of those hospital gowns in which I would certainly freeze to death as soon as I'd step outside.
And I have no shoes. The floor is cold.
Still, I'm nothing but stubborn, so I turn around and inquire as to the whereabouts of my clothing.
«You personal effects are quite safe, she assures me coldly. But you are staying here, for you are not fully recovered.»
I cross my arms.
«Oh really ? I snarl. What, might I ask, gives you the right to hold me here ?
-I am not keeping you prisoner here ! she protests. I am helping you, how many times do I have to repeat this in order for you to understand !»
So, she's known me for some time. It's really odd that I don't remember. An irritating girl like her...should've sticked in my memory. But then again, perhaps my own name should've been familiar. It's not.
«If you want to help me, why don't you tell me what landed me here in the first place ? I ask while settling back down on the bed.
-You don't know ? she looks surprised.
-Well, no, I grit my teeth. Are you gonna answer me or not ?
-Alright, she complies. I shall tell you what I know, however you will find it is not extensive. You had a stomach ulcer; apparently you suddenly eating actual, solid food was enough for it to 'start acting up' as you would say.»
Actual solid food ? Don't I eat that normally ?
«Okay, well that'll teach me I guess, I shrug non-committally. So what now ?
-You are to rest, then we shall resume our quest, she sniffs disdainfully. You do remember that, do you not ? she adds with a pointed glare.
-Depends, I bluff cheekily. What will you give me to remember ?
-You had better ask yourself what I will not give you to remember, she hisses.
-Are you suggesting spanking, Oh Naughty One ?» I tease slyly.
That blush is just priceless. So are her flaring nostrils and furious pupils.
«Enjoy your convalescence» she snaps icily and walks away.
That went well. Although I'm puzzled. She's acting strangely. Reporting to someone else, I realize. And she's been watching me for something. With fear almost. Fascinating.
I can't shake the thought that there's something missing. Or someone. And it's not merely my memory. It's...a presence. A friend. Who is he, and why isn't he here ? He's always here !
What happened to him ?
I take a look around. Nobody here. Great. But am I being watched ? I scan the walls, the ceiling. There, CCTV. Makes sense. How about lockers, where would they have put my things ? I remember not having much, a backpack and a utility belt in fact, with all that is necessary or useful for a scout like me.
Yeah, it's coming back to me. I'm a scout, name Eidan Hopkick, but I've got a nickname. Firefly. Much better.
But there's more...yeah, I'm Force Sensitive. That's right, recently trained at the Enclave of Dantooine...as a Jedi. Jedi, yes, that's the uniform the girl was wearing. But then, why wouldn't I trust her ? I mean, Jedi are supposed to be trustworthy, right ? And they seem to have saved my life, so...
Where is this coming from ? I swear, I'm thinking as if I were one of those babbling fools who don't see beyond their propaganda-filled channel. Am I not Firefly, the free-spirited adventurer who journeyed across half the Outer Rim and lived to mock the rest of the world about their blissful ignorance ?
Okay, what did those sneaky mind-controlling sleaze-bags do to my poor brain ?
One thing is certain, first chance I get, I'm out of here. Even if that means hijacking Master Vrook's own ship. Hey, another name pulled out of the darkness of oblivion. I love my mind.
But for now...I'm too weak to pull off a stunt like that. I need to recuperate, as well as have them think I'm subdued. That was, after all, one of their main objectives, wasn't it ?
Or so I'm forced to infer from the limited data I've been able to gather so far. Chances are, there's a much more complicated scheme at work behind all that.
Well then, sleeping time. I'll just ask Chip to stand guard, and-
Wait a sec. That's the friend I've been missing, I can't believe I could forget him ! What did they do with him ? Perhaps they simply left him with my things, he is after all a computer, so an item for most people. Plus he looks like a datapad to the untrained eye.
Only one way to make sure.
I stand up carefully, and shuffle to the lockers by the door. Yes, I shuffle. Not very elegant, I know. Sue me. Besides, if they underestimate my recovery rate, I might just get the edge I'll probably need to escape.
The lockers are, well...locked. No keys in sight. With an aggravated sigh I look for something I could use as a lockpick. Nothing. I'm not really in the mood to try and break it down, especially since that would give away my real health status. However I could make use of the Force. I don't know whether my mastery of it is sufficient for something requiring so much precision. But, audaces fortuna juvat, wouldn't you agree ?
How do I do this again ? Er...I have to go to my mind. I'm slightly reluctant to discover the state it's in. Because if I'm correct and the Jedi really did mess it up, then by definiton...it's going to be messed up.
Upon my entry I immediately stumble and crash. Ow. What did I...oh, great, did they have to shoot down my accomplishments collection ? It'll take forever to classify and rethink the display ! Mannerless runts. I stand up and continue my walk, more carefully tis time. The whole place is dimly lit, Mens looks like a ghost town. There are some passerbys, but they move too...mechanically. No life in them, no soul, no personality.
Nothing.
The horrors of war indeed.
But I'm confident that, once I'm far away from those warlocks who call themselves 'guardians of peace', I'll be able to restore some sense of normality here. Make it my home again.
There, that's quite enough drama and self-pitying for now, let's get things done.
Control tower it is. Oddly enough, it doesn't appear to have suffered as much as the rest of the city. In fact it looks untouched. Feels a bit different though. Let's watch our step, shall we ?
I make my way up easily enough, so far so good. The computers are running, all systems are go.
I ask them to work on the lock. They comply. Milliseconds later they propose a procedure, which I agree to.
I blink and I'm back out. I stretch out a finger, concentrate. I visualise the interior of the lock, then focus on pushing on the right spots with the right amount of pressure, to simulate the key.
It yields. I grin. That was easy.
Indeed my things are in here. I gather them hungrily in my arms and get back to bed with my prize. I rummage through it. It seems everything's here, except for two things : 1) Chip, and 2) the note. Which note ? I can't remember, but I have the feeling there was a note in there. An important one. I'll have to ask Chip...unless he too underwent some memory-wipe. Hopefully he created backups. After all, everything I build has backups. And I taught Chip pretty much everything I know.
Hm...makes me wonder though...if I saw the mind-wipe coming, and I'm not saying I did, only that it's a distinct possibility...I would've built a backup for myself as well. At least one backup. One the Jedi wouldn't discover, or so I would've believed. Conclusion : since I don't have much else to do right now, why don't I...
No wait. That's exactly what they're waiting for. For me to connect the dots they couldn't, so that once I find the backups, they can erase them as well. No, no. I'm staying in this state of relatively safe ignorance for a while longer. Who know, maybe they'll feel safer around a 'rebooted' Firefly. And thus, they may get careless.
Plus it might be fun.
Still, it looks like I'm staying here for a while. No moving, no drinking, no hacking.
Did I mention I hated hospitals ?