#12
Chapter 2: Dooku (#2)
Anakin barely heard him. He stared down at his black-gloved fist. He opened his fist, closed it, opened it again. The ache from his shoulder flowed down to the middle of his bicep–
And it didn't stop.
His elbow sizzled, and his forearm; his wrist had been packed with red-hot gravel, and his hand–
His hand was on fire.
But it wasn't his hand. Or his wrist, or his forearm, or his elbow. It was a creation of jointed durasteel and electrodrivers.
"Anakin?"
Anakin's lips drew back from his teeth. "It hurts."
"What, your replacement arm? When did you have it equipped with pain sensors?"
"I didn't. That's the point."
"The pain is in your mind, Anakin–"
"No." Anakin's heart froze over. His voice went cold as space. "I can feel him."
"Him?"
"Dooku. He's here. Here on that ship."