Signs of Life
By JalendaviLady
Chapter 11
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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.
If you recognize any characters, locations, or things in the following story, George Lucas owns them.
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Anakin lay on the deck, still slightly dazed from the
attack and its aftermath. I didn't think stunweapons had that much
kick to them. Am I really that weak?
He shivered, trying
to curl up to keep warm.
"Shh, big guy. Try not to move
too much; the fall could have broken something,"
"Cold..."
"I've done what I can about that. The medics
should be here soon."
The distinct sounds of a security
group outside. There was a sort of muffled rustling-fur?-nearby.
Anakin turned towards the sound and barely opened his eyes.
A
brown-furred Wookiee head peeked around the doorway. [Is he okay,
Han?]
"I think so."
"Nothing...
hurts... that... didn't... hurt... earlier," Anakin murmured,
still catching his breath.
[You know Shyriiwook?]
Anakin
waited a moment before he answered. "And Huttese... and Street
Basic... and Rodian... smattering of others. Normal Basic and Huttese
are the languages I speak fluently that are anywhere near common."
A group of medics came in, righted the wheelchair-bed, and
started trying to lift Anakin back into it.
They finally had
him settled in 5 minutes later. He said goodbye to Biggs, both
promising that they would try to spend the day together again later,
hopefully under better circumstances.
Another 3 minutes, and
they were moving him back into the bed in his room. One of the medics
suddenly snorted with something that sounded like surprise. "Well,
it seems you're doing better than we thought you were, Anakin."
"What do you mean?" Han asked.
"This."
The medic held up the mangled and ripped other end of the tube that
went from the breathmask to the oxygen compressor.
Everyone's
jaws dropped.
...
An aide ran into the room where
Leia and Mon Mothma were tying up a discussion about the best way to
handle the coming diplomatic situation with the SkyLords so that Leia
could head down to the medcenter without feeling rushed in returning.
"Sorry to interrupt, but the medics need you down in the
medcenter. Now."
Leia hopped up immediately, hand rising
to cover her open mouth.
"What happened?" Mon
asked, standing and placing a hand on the younger politician's
shoulder. That family has been through enough.
"Something
happened during the attack. The medics can't keep Anakin's real
condition secret from him any longer. Or why he's in the condition
he's in."
The two women looked at each other and rushed
out, the aide following them.
...
Within a half an
hour, Anakin's room was full of people.
Even after the recent
discovery by the medcenter staff, Anakin was in an oxygen mask due to
the emotional fit he'd had that led to wheezing sobbing. He could
breathe mostly on his own, though not for long at once, and no one
wanted to further risk his heath by putting that stress on him for
long until they were sure he could handle it.
Leia was
sitting beside Anakin, letting him lean into her, resting his cheek
on her shoulder. "Shh, it's going to be okay, Father.
Shh," she whispered, stroking his slightly fuzzy scalp and
dabbing at his still falling tears with a scrap of toweling.
Han
settled down on Anakin's other side, one hand resting on the
ex-Sith's shoulder.
The others were scattered
throughout the room, ready to offer comfort whenever the medics came
back with all the information they had on Anakin's physical
condition. Chewie and Lando were next to Han while Mon was beside
Leia. Piett and Veers were back on the Executor, dealing with
the slow influx of Imperial defectors that had been occurring over
the past few days and completely unreachable.
There was
something deeply wrong about the scene. Leia didn't know
precisely what, but it was like a memory twisted and mangled past all
recognition.
A flash of memory... dark cloak wrapped around
her, face pressed close to rough armor so that heavy breathing
reverberated in her bones. Damp, like that of Coruscant's lower
levels, where the sun never quite manages to warm anything.
And
then the memory was gone.
She thought for a moment over the
events of her childhood and the impossibility of the situation she
now found herself in, giving a little giggle in the Force at the
insanity of it all.
//What is it, Leia?// Anakin asked, no
small amount of concern shading his words.
//How in the world
did a little 10-year-old on the edges of a diplomatic banquet ever
think approaching a large darkly dressed stranger with breathing
problems in a corner was a smart idea?//
He added his own
weak and uneasy laugh. //I do not know, but I am glad you did.//
Good. I've got his mind off himself for the moment.
She rubbed his head again. //I always wondered what you really looked
like.//
They both sat there for a moment, linked in the
Force, reminiscing about all the times in the following few years
they had both shared various corners, alcoves, and balconies at
diplomatic functions, avoiding the endless meaningless posturing of
others, simply talking.
Their thoughts were interrupted by
the entrance of two medics, one armed with a thick pile of
flimsiplast printouts, the other attempting to hide the fact that she
was carrying a small bag of various hypos. Evening's drugs.
Either that, or they want sedatives on hand in case he really
takes this badly, for his own safety.
She felt Anakin
turn his head slightly toward the medics. //I love you, Father,// she
sent.
The medic with the printouts stepped forward.
"Anakin
Skywalker, we of the medical staff regret to inform you that you
could have been living off of life support for the last at least 15
years."
...
For a moment, Anakin completely
surrendered himself to tears, losing all sense of reality.
He
opened his eyes again just as the other medic started moving forward
with the drugs. He stared her straight in the eye. "Don't.
Drug. Me." She looked at him funny, continuing forward.
Language lapse, he realized. He repeated himself, enunciating
every Basic syllable. She backed off.
He realized vaguely a
moment later that Mon Mothma was staring at him, mouth hanging
slightly open. "Basic was my third language," he
explained sheepishly through more tears. "I lapse out of it
easily under stress. I was young when I learned it, but Huttese and
my birth language still feel more natural to me."
Why
am I so calm? he wondered.
//Because it hasn't had
time to sink in yet,// a warm voice at the back of his mind,
unrecognizable and yet totally familiar, whispered. //It is
mind-real, but not yet soul-real.// A flash of memory: warmth and a
kindness he hadn't felt in a long time. Laughing eyes in a
roughened face.
Famre?
There was no answer.
Another few moments of crying. He finally gave a few
sniffles, using the Force to momentarily repress the physical aspects
of his reaction. I need information, and as long as I'm
creating a miniature flood, I can't get that information.
"Why, and how does my situation now look?"
"Apparently
you were put into the suit before you were done healing naturally. As
time passed, you adapted to the suit. Things the suit did for you,
your body stopped trying to do for itself. Right now, if nothing
else, you are capable of breathing on your own for short periods of
time. Given your physical condition, I don't doubt that once
you get your strength back that you will be able to breathe without
any assistance for long periods of time, if you need assistance at
all. Everything else is a bit more shady."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that right now we don't have any real
way to make meaningful projections about whether or not several of
your organ systems can function without help because we haven't
seen what they are still capable of. For instance, when was the last
time you ate anything?"
"Morning before I ended
up like this."
"Which means your digestive tract
hasn't had to deal with food in well over 15 years. There's
no current medical precedent for whether or not it can again after
not doing so for that long. And since until today you seemed to need
a full breathmask that covered your mouth completely, we had no way
of checking to see what the real situation is. Could be that the
system kicks back into gear within a few hours of you eating
something, could be that it never kicks back in. Just have to take
things as they come."
"I understand,"
Anakin whispered before nestling closer in Leia's embrace and
surrendering completely to his tears.
//Shh. We're all
right here, Father.//
//Just don't leave me alone.//
//We won't. I promise.//
...