Bloodmarrow 2

"My son…." Vader repeated the words in a mild state of shock. Tilting his helmet forward, he gazed down at the sandy-haired boy stretched out on the dusty Mos Eisley street. The young man's eyes were closed so he couldn't tell what color they were, if they were blue like his or brown like Padme's. The boy clearly had his hair coloring though, so it would be good if he had inherited his blue eyes as well. The Sith Lord's eyes lowered to the pale face and he frowned within the black breath mask. The snow-like pallor was extremely alarming, though, as was the sight of so much blood. As a Sith Lord, Vader was no stranger to the sight of red blood or other internal parts scattered about after a battle. Squeamish people didn't last long in the Jedi Order and definitely didn't make it as Sith. Still, this was his son; a product of his love for Padme. This was different, vastly different. The blood that was soaking into Tatooine's harsh and extremely dry sand was his son's blood. The Skywalkers had given too much blood in the past to the planet, sacrificed too many lives. The sand would not have his only child as well!

Signaling to the closest stormtrooper, Vader signaled with a black-gloved hand. "Bring the emergency stretcher from the shuttle. NOW!"

"Right away, Lord Vader!" The stormtrooper saluted and ran off towards the Imperial shuttle that was parked nearby in the cross section of streets, not even bothering to use one of the circular landing bays. On their downward approach to the planet, Vader had sensed Obi-Wan's distress and panic clearly through the Force. Dreading the worst, he had easily pinpointed the Jedi's location and had ordered the shuttle to land as close as possible. All shuttles included emergency medical supplies in their set of standard equipment, the stuff stowed away near the rear. Having retrieved the desired item, the stormtrooper and several of his fellows raced with it towards the injured man.

While the stormtroopers were getting the stretcher, Vader stared down at the beast's detached head. In his long career with the Empire he'd never run across this particular creature or had even read of anything like it. To say it was ugly was an understatement. It was hideous.

And unfair! Yes, it was totally unfair!

/I've spent twenty years searching for my son and now he's dying, mauled by some ugly beast!./

Vader's eyes shifted to Obi-Wan. "This is your fault!"

"Anakin, no! I killed it as soon as I could!" Obi-Wan pleaded as he continued to press his blood-covered hands onto the shoulder wound. Blood was still spouting out from between his fingers and the Jedi feared that any minute Luke would die. His breathing had gone shallow, the pulse at his neck erratic. Lifting his head and glancing towards the crossroads, he was relieved to see the stormtroopers running towards him with the stretcher. Within seconds they had set it down and then spread out around the injured man. Each one gripping a body part, they lifted him together and placed him on the stretcher, Obi-Wan keeping his hands on the wound during the entire process. "Believe me, Anakin, I never meant for this to happen! I spent the last twenty years of my life watching over your son from a distance, never letting danger get near him! I would gladly give my life to save him!"

"How did this happen, Obi-Wan?" Vader demanded to know as he glared at his former Master. Obi-Wan had grown old over the years, the harsh climate being unkind to his appearance. His skin was dry, wrinkled and badly weathered; his hair white and thinning, unevenly cut. The well-kept man Anakin had known in his Jedi days was long gone. It appeared as if he still wore the same robes. Perhaps they were his only bit of clothing. The robes themselves were old and worn much like the man himself, stained and tattered, covered with dust and sand. Outrage began to grow in the Sith Lord and he kicked the beast's body with the toe of his boot. "How could you let this thing maul my son?"

"I thought he was right behind me!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, full well knowing it wasn't a real excuse. He had no excuse. "How was I supposed to know this would happen?"

"Because you are a Jedi!" Vader exclaimed, knowing he wasn't making very much sense at the moment. No, even the foolish Jedi couldn't predict the future. Palpatine had proven that beyond a doubt. And he knew Obi-Wan. He knew how the man was forever getting himself into dangerous situations as if he were a danger magnet. Vader had lost count of the number of times he had to save the man in the past. If it weren't for him, Obi-Wan would have perished long ago. Realizing precise time was slipping away as his son's life slipped between the Jedi's sticky fingers, Vader spoke to the stormtroopers. "Get him aboard the shuttle! And call the Medics on Executor. Have them waiting in the landing bay! I will not have my son die here!"

"Yes, Lord Vader!" The stormtroopers picked the stretcher up and quickly ran with it towards the waiting shuttle, they and Obi-Wan managing to move together. The creature's ugly head was still attached to Luke's arm and Obi-Wan kept it on the stretcher with his body, dark blood from the severed neck soaking the front of his robes and tunic.

Obi-Wan turned to glance back at Vader. "Bring the body! The doctors might want it."

Deep, dark hatred bubbled in Vader as he stared at the body of the creature, but he reached out with the Force and levitated it into the shuttle. It more than anything was responsible for his son's condition and he vowed he'd discover exactly where it had come from. He was positive no such beast lived on Tatooine or he would have heard of it long ago. Wherever it had come from, it looked half starved with its ribs clearly showing. It had paws like a common beast, rubbery pads on the bottom. Sharp claws protruded from each finger, allowing it to both run faster and to hang onto prey once it was caught. The back haunches looked powerful, yet disturbing. Something about its shape greatly disturbed the Sith Lord. It just seemed wrong somehow and he quickly considered if it may be an illegal experiment conducted by some unknown scientist. Then again, the galaxy was huge and more things existed under the night sky then one thought possible. A scrawny tail covered in white hair poked out the creature's rear and a line of jagged bumps ran down the center of its back where the spine would be. Dumping the headless carcass onto the metal deck, he quickly moved to stand beside the stretcher in the back. Obi-Wan once again was kneeling on the floor, his hands covering the terrible wound.

/He is so young, my son…/

By his clothes, Vader surmised that he had lived most of his life on Tatooine, perhaps a moisture farm. The fragments of a report drifted to the forefront of his mind. Hadn't the stormtroopers reported tracking the droids to a farm? Could it be the same one where his son had been staying? It's clear Obi-Wan certainly hadn't trained the boy as a Jedi. If he had, a simple animal never would have harmed him like this. Then a silver glint near his son's side caught his attention and leaning closer, he realized it was his old lightsaber. The boy had been armed and he hadn't even used it!

/He must have lived a sheltered life. Perhaps the Lars…/

Yes, he remembered his relatives on Tatooine. They had been good people or so he had told Padme all those years ago. Had they been the ones killed by his stormtroopers? The thought was disturbing. It was a very poor way to repay them for raising his son. They were simple farm folk and knew nothing of the ways of the galaxy. Most likely they didn't even know the stolen plans had been inside the droids.

/Yet more of my family's blood claimed by the sand…/

Force, he really hated Tatooine!

"What is his name?" Vader finally asked the Jedi. He knew the shuttle would be docking soon within Executor's huge bay and then there would be lots of frantic activity. Through some miracle, he had managed to stop himself from killing his former Master as he may have in another situation. With his son unconscious and possibly dying, the Jedi was his only source of information. "Why have you kept my son from me all these years?"

"His name is Luke." Obi-Wan lifted his head to stare up at Vader's black breath mask. He felt guilty for the awful fate that had befallen Anakin. It had been his fault, really. He should have stood up to the Council years ago when they had assigned Anakin his own mission, as he had known the boy wasn't ready yet to be on his own. It was then that Anakin had first taken that dark and dangerous step to the Dark Side, killing the tribe of Sandpeople that had murdered his poor mother. If he had been with him, the galaxy may not be in the mess it was now. He could have helped the distraught boy, held him, comforted him, anything. Perhaps they even could have rescued his mother together. The point being, Anakin wouldn't have been alone that fateful day and things would have been different. The Council had only looked at Anakin's powers. They hadn't thought of his emotional development. And it was sheer foolishness assigning him to work so closely to a woman he clearly was in love with! The Council had been aware of those feelings and had done it on purpose. But as Anakin's Master, it all rested on his shoulders. He had been too soft in regards to the Council, have caved in too easily to their commands. He had thought they knew what was best, even though he had serious doubts lurking within his mind and heart. He should have spoken up instead of remaining silent, as he had done in too many occasions. If only he could have been brave like Qui-Gon. "We … we weren't hiding him from you really, but from Palpatine…"

"Luke…" Vader said, testing the name.

Luke's eyelids fluttered and then slowly opened. Turning his head slightly, he winched in pain. "Ben?"

"I'm here, Luke." Obi-Wan replied softly. He knew it was best to keep an injured person calm, so the last thing he wanted to do was upset the boy. "You'll be in the hospital soon…"

"I … I feel cold." Luke stated, unknowingly repeated what his father had said years ago when he had left Tatooine for the first time.

"Luke…" Vader breathed loudly as he knelt down near the boy's stretcher across from Obi-Wan. "I am your father. I promise I will not let anything happen to you."

Hearing the new voice, low in timber with the harsh mechanical breathing, Luke slowly shifted his head to the other side. His blue eyes fastened onto the black breath mask, white highlights reflecting off the many curves and angles panes. He knew he should know that face or lack of one, but it was hard for him to think for some reason. Perhaps the cold was numbing his brain? But how could he be cold on Tatooine? Unless all the suns had set…

Reaching out, Vader gripped his son's limp and cold hand. To his alarm, the boy's fingernails look pale and white instead of the normal rosy pink.

/He has lost too much blood…./

Stretching out towards him with the Force, he was a bit relieved to see Luke's spirit still seemed to be strong. Perhaps he wasn't really in as bad shape as he appeared? "Did you hear me, Luke? I am your father."

"Father?" Luke gazed dumbly up at the black breath mask. He remembered he had always wanted a father. Could this all be a dream? Was he asleep in his bed at home? If so, he would be in trouble with Owen if he didn't wake up on time and do his chores…

"Yes, your father." Vader replied as he tightened his grip on the boy's hand.

"Anakin, I really don't think he's coherent." Obi-Wan stated. The blood had stopped oozing out of the shoulder wound and the Jedi didn't know if that was good or bad. Had he finally run out of blood or had the wound finally matted, producing a scab? He thought of removing his hands to take a peek but didn't dare, less the bleeding start up again. The Jedi knew he was in anything but a good situation. Vader could kill him at any time. In fact, it wouldn't surprise him one bit if Anakin did just that for the awful fate that had befallen Luke. He had screwed up both Skywalkers' lives, so perhaps he deserved death.

"Lord Vader, the shuttle has landed!" One of the stormtroopers informed him.

Quickly the stretcher was carried out of the Imperial shuttle and into the huge landing bay. Instantly the medical crew took over and they started to run with the anti-gravity stretcher towards Executor's well equip. Sick Bay.

"Blood pressure is falling!" One of the emergency doctors shouted.

"Subject is in Hypovolemic shock!" A second said.

"Heartbeat is rapid, tachycardia pulse! Breathing shallow…" A third added as they rushed Luke down the glistening hallways of Executor. "Major trauma to upper right shoulder. Bite wound…"

"The animal's head will need to be checked for pathogens!" The first doctor said as they rounded a corner.

Darth Vader rapidly strode down the hallway after the medics, his black cape swirling out behind him. Their medical talk was unnerving him, not because he didn't understand it but because he did. Shock and low blood pressure wasn't good, obviously. People could die from shock and the last thing he wanted was to loose Luke now that he had just found him. His mood was dark and sour, other crewmembers rapidly getting out of his way by mere instinct. It wasn't good to cross his path in ideal conditions and now, well, someone could easily end up dead.

/I will not loose him now! Not after all these years of searching!./

He would do anything to save the boy, no matter the costs. If it took every credit in his huge amassed bank account, he would spend it gladly. Over the years he had become the second richest man in the galaxy but he never really spent any of it, dreaming of the day he'd finally find his lost child. That day was now and he would not loose again! Death would not steal this gift from him, not now and not ever! He would cheat death and snag the boy from its skeletal grasp no matter what.

/You will live, Luke! Do you hear me? LIVE!./

He willed the boy to recover, as if that alone could heal his injuries. Vader was not a doctor and knew just the basics of emergency medical aid from his Jedi days, but he was smart enough to haul the carcass with him. The last thing he wanted was to loose precious time by having to send brainless troopers back to the shuttle to retrieve it. No, this was far too important to trust to stormtroopers. The headless beast floated before the Sith Lord as he almost ran after the stretcher and doctors. Passing crew uttered shocked sounds at the sight but Vader ignored them. Panic grew within him when Sick Bay still wasn't in sight. Why was it taking so long? Why did the medical section have to be so far away from the landing bay? Logically he knew it was for safety reasons. Sick Bay was stationed at the very center of the ship so it wouldn't get damaged during an attack and he had never really thought of it before. It had just been another fact in his head. But now…now the hallways had never seemed so long. He found his mechanical heart beating faster, a sour sweat collecting on his brow. If his hands had been real he was sure they'd be cold and clammy from sheer worry. Aggravated beyond belief, he gripped both hands into fists and willed they move faster.

/We should be there by now! Luke can't die in the corridor!./

And he would, unless they got there soon! He ticked off the number of corridor sections yet to traverse and his hope bloomed. Only three more left! Those three rapidly passed and soon they rolled through the main doors into the large and well-lit Sick Bay. Luke was automatically steered towards the emergency room and a doctor put up a hand to stop Vader from entering.

'I'm sorry, Lord Vader, but only medical personnel are permitted in here. You'll have to wait outside." The doctor bravely spoke, his voice quivering in fear.

"He is my son!" Vader stated as if that explained it all. "I will be with him."

Just then a loud shout came from the emergency room. "He's having some sort of seizure!"

Lord Vader shoved the startled doctor out of the way and hurried into the room. Luke's body quivered and shook on the long operating table, a cluster of doctors around him. The Sith Lord's mechanical heart leaped up into his throat in intense fear, a fear he hadn't felt such he had become a Sith.

/No! You can't die now!./

Just as quickly as the seizure had come, it ended and Luke's body collapsed back onto the table. But to Vader's surprise and utter joy, his chest continued to rise and fall.

"What was that?" one of the doctors asked another. "It wasn't his heart…"

"Not sure…" Another replied as his eyes darted to the ugly head attacked to the young man's arm. "Could be something from that."

All the doctors shifted their gaze momentarily to the ugly head and a collective shudder passed around. They all knew too well the horrible diseases animals could carry. A bite by itself was bad enough, even from a healthy animal. Bites almost always grew infected, especially if deep puncture wounds were involved. Still, infections they could treat. It was pathogens that could cause problems. And some alien species carried really nasty ones.

"We better get Dr. Corrigan up here…" One of the doctors said as he finally tore his eyes off the beast's head. "And someone please remove that head, but be extremely careful. We don't know what it may be carrying…"

Two nurses moved to do his bidding and a third paged Dr. Corrigan.

Feeling utterly helpless amid the medical bustle, Vader inched backward out of the room. Whether he liked it or not, his son's life was now in the hands of the doctors and all he could do was wait. Floating the grisly carcass onto an unoccupied gurney, he started to pace around the room. The outer doors swooshed open and Vader's private physician, Dr. Corrigan, hurried past him with a curt nod and disappeared within the operating room. Stretching out with the Force towards his son, Vader was reassured he was still alive. He could feel the boy through the Force, his life a steady glow. Surely it shouldn't be that steady, should it? He had thought the boy close to death…

/I must congratulate Dr. Corrigan and his expert team of doctors on their fine work!./

Yes, he was sure now Luke would live. A warm feeling of relief flooded his body and his mechanical legs felt oddly weak. Spotting a chair next to the wall, Vader called it to him with the Force and sat.

/Luke will live!./

The thought was overwhelming after the high tension. It wouldn't surprise him if his droid parts had spilled some of their oil during the stressful situation.

Droid parts…

A cold feeling of dread chilled his heart. What shape was Luke in? Would he loose the arm that had been bitten by that awful thing? How much damage did his poor son sustain? It was bad enough he had to walk around relying on droid parts. He would never wish it on his offspring!

/I hope he will be all right…./

Yes, he must stop thinking negatively, especially now. Obi-Wan had taught him that years ago and although he mainly ignored it, now would be a good time to actually follow it. Obi-Wan had been shackled securely, his lightsaber dangling now from Vader's belt, and escorted to a secure cell. He would talk to the man later, but now he only cared about Luke. But no matter what shape Luke was in, as long as he survived he was his son. Nothing would stop that fact. Anything he needed he would get for him, even if it required expensive specialists. Money was no object when it came to his family.

Time seemed to crawl past and Vader grew more anxious. What was taking them so long? He could feel Luke was OK and out of danger. The blood loss must not have been as serious as it had appeared to be or else he would be dead. Surely that was the main problem with a bite, wasn't it?

/Something else is wrong…./

Vader frowned under his black breath mask. He just knew it. His helmeted head turned and he found himself gazing at the headless corpse of the beast.

/There's something wrong with that thing…/

Just then the door to the ER opened and Dr. Corrigan emerged. Unlike others who relied on droid doctors, Vader preferred the real thing: a human physician who knew what he was doing. The middle-aged man had been with him for years and sported silvery white hair neatly trimmed. His white surgeons uniform was speckled with bits of blood and the Sith Lord was shocked how the simple spots of red bothered him. The doctor removed his gloves and tossed them in a special bag, sealing it.

Vader rose to his feet, his nerves jumping. "How is Luke?"

"For now, he is fine." Dr. Corrigan replied in a calm voice. "He's recovering from his ordeal and you can see him if you want."

" I would very much like to do so." Vader replied.

"We've moved him to a new room. This way please." Dr. Corrigan led Lord Vader down the hall of Sick Bay to one of the private rooms. Opening the door, the doctor led him inside.

Vader moved to Luke's bed and was relieved to see his skin had some color in it now. In fact, his tan from living on Tatooine was showing remarkably well – an odd sight indeed. His son was shirtless and he very carefully eased the light blanket off his chest so he could take a look at the wounds. The doctors, of course, had already removed all the blood and this was the first time he'd see the actual wounds themselves. Shutting his eyes tightly, Vader prepared himself for the worst. When he felt ready, he opened his eyes and saw a few white scars.

Puzzled, Darth Vader turned to look at the doctor. "Where are the wounds? Surely you couldn't heal them that quickly!"

"I'm afraid we need to have a long conversation, Lord Vader." Dr. Corrigan began, his voice slightly uneasy. "When we cleaned the blood off the wounds, they were as you see them…"

Cold shock raced through the Sith Lord. "Are you saying the bites healed themselves?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I am."

"But that's impossible!" Vader exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Lord Vader, but your son is infected with a rare pathogen." Dr. Corrigan stated.

To be continued…