Bloodmarrow 4

Shock vibrated through the Sith Lord's body as Captain Piett's unexpected words. At the moment he had only two important prisoners and he doubt if either of them would try suicide. No, they just weren't the type. Obi-Wan was a Jedi and it went against Jedi belief to take ones own life. Besides, the man had made it clear he was devoted to Luke. Why else would he live on that horrible planet for all those years, constantly being baked by the never-ending heat and too-dry air? It was a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. And the Princess, she was too stubborn to try such a thing. There was a fire inside her that he rarely saw these days. She enjoyed insulting the Imperials too much, trying to get a reaction out of his crew. No, it just didn't add up right, which meant something was wrong.

/I hope none of the guards have gotten trigger happy…./

Yes, that was one possibility, but it still didn't feel right. Turning his mask to face Piett, he spoke. "I will see to it. Return to your duties on the bridge, Captain."

Piett saluted and hurried off. "Yes, My Lord!"

Turning on his heel, Vader stalked down the long corridor of Executor, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Something was bubbling in the back of his mind, a thought or idea but he couldn't grasp it firmly. Still, his gut told him that he should know what the problem down on the Detention Deck was. He was forgetting something, something important…

/What am I forgetting?./

Normally he'd know these things by instinct. A good commander always knew the right thing to do in any given situation. Commanders needed to think on their toes and make snap decisions within seconds. If they couldn't, they and their ships didn't last long in the black reaches of space. No, those ships died horrible deaths from the strange phenomenon that made their homes in space or surprise attacks or just simple carelessness. Vader knew he had always been gifted with the ability for command. He had stifled and chapped under the strict rules of the Jedi but had excelled under Palpatine's power, his own command. Out here, he didn't need to ask permission to do each thing needed doing, as the Council had demanded; he could just do it. The freedom was exhilarating. But now something was wrong and he needed to straighten out his thoughts. His mind was filled with concern for Luke and whether or not he should do the bone marrow transplant. He didn't want his son to die on the operating table but he didn't want to loose him, either.

Reaching the lift, he stepped within and pressed the appropriate button. Deciding to review the facts he knew, he started to run them through his head.

/A beast carrying a contagious pathogen attacked Luke…/

The levels flashed past and before he knew it he was on the Detention Deck. Stepping out of the lift, he shoved the mystery from his mind. The cell was just up ahead and he'd learn the facts soon enough anyway. The gray uniformed guards saluted him smartly as they saw him exit the lift and leaped to their feet. "What is the problem?"

"Lord Vader!" The lead Detention Officer said nervously. His eyes stared up at the black breath mask and he gulped nervously, his eyes filled with fear. "I'm afraid one of the prisoners has tried to kill himself. I don't know how, Sir, as there was nothing in the cell he could have used."

"Show me." Vader commanded.

The frightened man hurried to obey and led the Sith Lord down the long pentagon-shaped hall of the cell area. Up ahead, a cluster of stormtroopers milled around, their guns held at the ready. At the sight of Lord Vader's black figure, the troopers moved away to give him access to the cell in question.

"We were going to bring him the evening meal and found him like that…"

Vader could feel the officer's fear through the Force and knew he was spooked by something. Most likely he feared getting in trouble for loosing a prisoner, but the Force seemed to suggest it was more than just that. Placing his hand on the door control, Vader opened the door and looked within. The sight shocked him, a cold feeling gripping his chest and squeezing. Bracing one robotic hand against the doorframe, he struggled to regain control of his breathing.

Obi-Wan lay on the floor, his head facing the metal bunk. He was positioned on one side, his arm trailing in front of him. And directly in front of his body was a huge pool of red blood. The pool spread out across part of the room and reached from the Jedi's head to his bent knees.

/NO! It can't be…. Obi-Wan can't be dead! He just can't be…./

Although he had tried his best to kill the Jedi two decades ago, he apparently still had strong feelings for him. The idea of loosing Obi-Wan now, well, it would be like his mother dying all over again. The Jedi had been both a father and brother to him and more importantly, a friend. Perhaps, through Luke, they could be friends again somehow. And he owed the Jedi for watching over his son all these years, did he not? Without him, Luke would have died. The boy had told him that himself. The intensity of his feelings startled him, as he had lived for so long with only hatred and anger as his constant companions.

Snapping out of his momentary paralysis, Vader hurried forward and approached his former mentor from behind, avoiding the pool of blood. Reaching out with the Force, he was relieved to feel the older man's Force signature, strong and clear. Feeling slightly puzzled as to how that could be with all the blood on the floor, Vader knelt down and carefully examined him. The Jedi's chest continued to rise and fall on a regular basis and he could see the pulse at his neck, so his basic functions appeared to be working.

/Where did all that blood come from?./

Gripping Obi-Wan's shoulder, Vader turned him over slightly and gasped at the twin red trails coming from his nostrils.

/All that leaked from his nose!./

Then he noticed the beads of sweat on Obi-Wan's forehead, the slight tremors racing through his body as if he were shivering….

/The pathogen!./

Cold dread gripped him as he realized that his poor master was now infected with Metoncedo Belua as well. It didn't matter that Obi-Wan hadn't been his master for the past twenty years or that they had fought so viciously so long ago. Obi-Wan had risked his life to save Luke, staying beside the injured boy even though he realized it meant capture by the Empire. And capture meant certain death as Jedi were to be hunted down and executed as enemies of the government. He could have run, he could have sliced the stormtroopers with his lightsaber but he didn't. Instead he stayed by Luke's side and literally held the blood within the dying boy's body, infecting himself with the rare disease. And knowing Obi-Wan and how the Jedi think, even if he had known about the disease he would have done it anyway, for saving another's life was more important than his own. The Jedi were selfless and his old mentor had expressed this clearly once again.

/I must save him somehow…./

Yes, after all Obi-Wan had gone through, he couldn't let him die now!

Lifting his helmeted head to see the gray uniformed officers nervously watching from the door, he glared at them. "Get the medics down here, get them now!"

"Right away, Lord Vader!" One of the officers ran off to call the doctors, his footfalls loud on the metal floor.

"Has anyone been in here?" Vader asked, one black-gloved hand resting on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He could feel the man's violent tremors from the fever and he silently cursed that the Detention Officers hadn't called the doctors right away. But he didn't want this contagion spreading through the crew, either. That would be a nightmare to contain. The image of Obi-Wan pressing his hands to Luke's bleeding shoulder wound was sharp in his mind and the Sith Lord was sure that was how he had gotten the disease. Direct contact. Carefully gripping the Jedi's arm, he hoisted it up and glanced at the palm, seeing the abrasions.

/So it travels blood to blood through any open wound…./

"No, My Lord!" One of the other Detention Officers replied. "We thought it might be some trick to escape. He is a Jedi, so we thought it best if you dealt with him…"

"Good. Make sure no one but the medics enter this room, even after he's taken to the Medical Section. This place needs to be sterilized." Vader informed them in his low, mechanical voice. "And he did not try to kill himself. He is sick."

The officers exchanged nervous glances with each other. One of the things a crew on a ship feared above up was disease, as they were trapped on the ship and couldn't leave easily. It was a deeply ingrained, instinctive feeling. It left unattended to, it could lead to unlawful behavior and even mutiny as panicked people fought for their life.

Sensing their fear, Vader choose to explain the facts to them. "It is transmitted through blood. As long as none of you have touched this pool of blood, you will be fine."

The officers and nearby stormtroopers breathed a collective sigh of relief and the tension faded into the background.

Vader was unconcerned about himself. Incased in the protective armor, breath mask and gloves, he was even more protected from disease than the medical personnel. Of course, he was still careful not to get any of the blood on himself, as that would just cause extra cleaning problems. Finally Dr. Corrigan and the other doctors arrived, a stretcher in tow. After ascertaining the Jedi's basic life signs, they deemed it safe to move him. After placing him onto the stretcher, they carried it out of the cell and towards the lift. With a final glance at the pool of blood, Vader followed the others.

As the lift was filled with the doctors and Obi-Wan, the Sith Lord had to wait for the next car. His concern for Luke increased after what he had seen in the cell and he began to understand Dr. Corrigan's worry. It was not normal for a person to loose that amount of blood and still be alive, breathing normally. It was down right freaky and as a Sith Lord he was not spooked easily. But this disease, it was unlike anything he had ever dealt with before and he found himself unnerved, rattled.

/Perhaps Luke should get that transplant…./

If there was a possibility of stopping this thing, whatever it was, he had to try. Even if it cost Luke his life, the transplant was the boy's only hope.

/Before something else pops up unexpected…./

What would happen to the two next if this went on untreated? What were his son and best friend turning into?

/Do I even want to know?./

Although he could ask the doctor, Vader hadn't found the courage to ask that question yet nor had the doctor volunteered the information on his own. That alone was not a good sign.

/It must be something awful…/

Doctors, he knew, were not usually squeamish with such things. If you were dying, they usually found the courage to tell you. It was all part of their training. Yet Dr. Corrigan had avoided that particular question.

/He knows I will not like the answer…/

Then again, perhaps the answer was right in front of his face all along and he just refused to see it.

Another lift car arrived and Vader got in. Pressing the button for the Medical Deck, he worried what he was going to do now. Even if the transplant saved Luke, how could he save Obi-Wan? Surely their tissue types wouldn't match, would it? That would be too incredible if they did, seeing as they were unrelated. Was it possible that someone on the crew would match? Could he force a crewmember to be a donor for the Jedi? What world was his former master even from? Being raised as infants in the Jedi crèche, the Order had a bad habit of not telling people who their families were or where they were from. And if through some miracle he could discover what planet Obi-Wan had been born on, could he track down a family member? The Temple had been destroyed and the old records were long gone. And so many had died in the War as well….

/It's hopeless!./

A dark, depressing mood settled over the Sith Lord as the lift doors opened and he exited the car. He'd never be able to save both of them. He had tried so hard to save Padme and yet she had died anyway…

/It's that drat curse of being the Chosen One again!./

Yes, the curse gave him nothing but bad luck. No matter how hard he tried, things always seemed to go wrong for him. His mother had died despite his best efforts, Padme died, his body was a hopeless wreck and on top of all that, his son and best friend were now infected with some disease!

/It'll be a miracle if the whole crew doesn't come down with it…./

But no, only the people close to him seemed to suffer. Maybe the crew was safe…

Darth Vader entered Sick Bay with a heavy heart and saw Dr. Corrigan emerge from one of the rooms, a rag in his hands. The doctor wiped his hands on it, a frown on his face. Even from a distance, Vader knew what the prognosis would be, still, he searched for whatever strength still resided in his battered body and walked towards the silver-haired man with bravery he didn't really feel. When he had reached him, he stopped; his long black cloaked brushing against his ankles from the sudden halt. "He has it, doesn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." Dr. Corrigan replied, the slightly damp rag gripped nervously in his hands. "I wish I had better new to give you, but I don't. He's resting right now and is in the same current condition as your son."

Breathing loudly, Vader tried to organize his thoughts. Emotionally, he was a wreck and he knew it was just going to get worst. He needed to pull himself together and be strong. Luke and Obi-Wan needed him to be strong. Plus he had a ship to run, work to do. Unlike others, he just couldn't call in a sick day and have another crewmember fill in. No, he was the Dark Lord of the Sith and he didn't get sick days. Even fresh out of the lava with raw burns still on his face, the mask had been slapped on and he had to go work for Palpatine. It sounded cruel, but that's how Palpatine was. It didn't accept excuses. He expected progress and results.

/And if I get too out of sorts, Palpatine will ask what's going on…./

And that was the last thing he wanted!

"How could Obi-Wan loose so much blood and still be alive?" Vader asked, knowing he needed to know the answer.

"Well, Metoncedo Belua makes its own blood." Dr. Corrigan explained as he shoved the rag into one of the pockets of his white medical coat. "Blood cells are also produced in the bone marrow. So with it producing its own blood, the person's original blood is no longer needed. The nose was just a handy way to get rid of it…"

"When I first saw him laying there…" Vader admitted honestly as he remembered the cold shock that had flowed through him. "I had thought he was dead."

"No, he's not dead." Corrigan reassured as he led Vader back towards the private rooms. "He's in the room next to your son. If you like, you can visit with them. The main difference is that Luke apparently lost most of his original blood when he had been attacked. That didn't happen to Obi-Wan, so he's loosing it in a more dramatic way."

"A more frightening way, you mean." Vader corrected. He thought of how the rumor was even now spreading around the ship. Scuttlebutt was the fastest moving thing in the entire Imperial Fleet. It outpaced even hyper drive sometimes it seemed. Stopping outside Obi-Wan's door, he turned to face the doctor. "I am concerned how this will affect the crew. A frightened crew responds badly in times of crisis and mistakes become more common. The last thing we need is a rumor of a plague on board."

The doctor nodded. "Yes, that is a concern."

"Did you finish the tests to see if I can be a donor?" Vader asked. Once the question was out, he held his breath. All his plans for Luke rested on this one idea. If he didn't match…

"Yes, your HLA matches your son's." The doctor replied as he stared at Vader's expressionless black mask. "Do you want to proceed with the transplant?"

"After what I just saw, I think we better." Vader solemnly returned the doctor's gaze. "I don't like the idea of this unnatural thing changing my son. The sooner it's stopped, the better. Just allow me to tell him first. It's only right that he should know."

"Very well. I'll go prepare the equipment we'll need and get the staff ready." Dr. Corrigan said and then hurried off.

Darth Vader watched him go and then turned to face the door. Not only was he now facing a difficult conversation with Luke, but one with Obi-Wan as well. How did you tell a person their DNA was being changed into something else? How could he possibly tell Luke he was going to undergo a dangerous and painful procedure? He had never faced anything like this before and he felt as if he were on unstable ground. Worst, he had no idea how his son would react to such news. Perhaps Obi-Wan would have some suggestions, as he no doubt knew the boy better. Sighing, Vader opened the door and went in.

The Jedi was lying in bed with a blanket up to his chin. As soon as Vader walked in, Obi-Wan's blue eyes snapped open and he watched the other warily. "What do you want, Anakin?"

Vader paused next to the bed and breathed loudly. He was unsure why Obi-Wan was calling him Anakin still. Was it just habit or was the older man still hopeful that he'd change? Had he somehow clung to that hope all these years? "I … I have something to tell you."

Obi-Wan stared up at the Sith Lord and sighed, slightly annoyed. Even sick, he could feel the other's uncertainty through the Force. "Anakin, don't tell me you're still nervous! You've been a Sith for how many years? I would have thought by now you would have outgrown it."

"Do you remember what happened?" Vader finally asked, deciding to ignore the Jedi's remarks for the moment.

"Yes, I remember!" Obi-Wan growled as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Your goons locked me in a cell!"

"And do you remember what happened after that?" Vader asked, his breath loud in the small room.

"I went to sleep out of boredom, that and a headache." Obi-Wan admitted. His eyes shifted around the small room, his Jedi training taking in everything. Nor did he miss Luke's Force signature very close by, perhaps the next room over. "Well, I'm glad to see you've come to your senses and given me a proper room. That metal bunk was very annoying and almost impossible to sleep on. The floor was much softer in comparison. Do I owe this change in surroundings to the fact that I saved your son's life?"

"Partly…" Vader paused, uncertain how he should continue. It was obvious Obi-Wan didn't remember bleeding all over the floor. "Master…"

"I'm not your master anymore, as you very well know." Obi-Wan turned his head and looked away from his former apprentice. "I haven't been your master since …."

"I'm sorry…." Vader finally stated, his nerves jumping uneasily. It felt very odd to be apologizing to Obi-Wan after so many years for things he couldn't change.

Surprise crossed the Jedi's face and he turned to stare up at the black breath mask. "And what has you in such a fine mood that you're apologizing now, after all this time? What dirty deed do you want me to do this time?"

"I … I don't know how to say this…" Vader began and then paused again. How did doctors do it, anyway? Why couldn't he detach his feelings like he had been before? Why couldn't he find that cold place in his soul where he had dwelled these past twenty years? It would be so easy then! He could just utter the words and not care. But he couldn't. The sudden appearance of his son had awoken feelings in him he had long though dead. They were alive and well, glowing with warmth. There was no way he could just utter it out and not care for the other's reaction. But how do you tell someone a thing like this? After all he and Obi-Wan had been through, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt the man more. He had done that enough hadn't he? Surely exile on Tatooine was enough punishment.

"Say what? Anakin, you're blubbering!" Obi-Wan sighed and threw off the blanket. He felt to hot now, the room muggy all of a sudden. The slightly cooler air of the room brushed against him and he sighed, feeling better. He could feel Anakin's turbulent emotions with ease. For whatever reason, neither of them had ever terminated the training bond they shared and the other's emotions flowed down that link like a swirling tempest. It was painfully obvious Anakin was upset about something. "And if you're worried about Luke, I can feel he's just in the next room. He seems to be just fine, so I guess I made the right decision. I hope now you'll make the proper decision and not ruin his life as you did yours."

"If you're referring to Palpatine, you're right." Vader lowered his head slightly in agreement. "He'd kill Luke now, but not for the reasons you think."

"Well, what other reasons are there?" Obi-Wan asked, aspirated about all the beating around the bush.

"Because of the disease he caught from that thing you killed…" Vader finally admitted. It felt like a slight weight had lifted off his shoulders with the words. "And I'm afraid you caught it, too."

"Disease? What disease?" Obi-Wan demanded to know. "I'll have you know, Anakin, I feel just fine!"

Vader blinked his eyes under the mask, surprised. "You do?"

"Yes, I do!" Obi-Wan insisted as he crawled out of bed and stood up, stretching. "Why, I haven't felt this good for years! My arthritis seems to have cleared up, too. Isn't that something? Who ever knew sleeping on a hard floor could do that? Hmmm, now where are my boots?"

Vader watched his former master dig under the bed for his boots and then go check in the nearby closet. With a yell of victory, Obi-Wan returned to the bed and pulled on the long brown footwear. Puzzlement floated through his mind. He didn't understand this disease. The Jedi had lost all his original blood and yet he felt fine, with prior diseases clearing up magically? That didn't make any sense whatsoever. He watched the other stand up and gaze at his mask. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear that Obi-Wan looked younger. His hair was still the same snowy white, bleached of all color from Tatooine's harsh desert light, but was his face less wrinkled than when they had first met?

/I must be imagining things…./

Yes, his memory was goofed up, that's all. He hadn't seen the man in twenty years and after the trying day he's been through, he couldn't be expect to remember everything with crystal recall.

"Needless of how you feel, the doctor says you are infected with Metoncedo Belua. It is changing your DNA as we speak…"

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Anakin, that's impossible! You can't change a person's DNA!"

"I trust Dr. Corrigan. He's been my private physician for many years." Vader replied matter-of-factly. And he did trust the doctor. Yet, he had to admit Obi-Wan didn't look sick. He was standing on his own two feet and looked rather annoyed: very Obi-Wan. There were no tremors of the muscles, no sweat on the brow, no pallor of the skin, no nothing. If he were to judge Obi-Wan's heath just by looks, he'd say he was healthy.

/But there was all that blood on the floor…../

Yes, he mustn't forget about that!

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "So, what are you going to do with me?"

"You must stay here in this room. You're in quarantine due to the disease." Vader stated, sure that no matter how healthy the man looked, he shouldn't be given free range of the ship. This whole thing was just too weird. "But you may visit with Luke if you wish. I'm sure he'd be glad to see you. We need to tell him about the disease and how he needs to get a transplant…."

"Transplant!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, outraged. "What in the Force are you talking about? He doesn't need a transplant!"

"Yes, he does!" Vader replied, his voice coming out louder than he had wanted it to. Old habits died hard and one of his old habits was disagreeing with Obi-Wan. "This disease is changing his DNA! I need to change it back and the only way to do that is with a bone marrow transplant."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard!" The Jedi exclaimed.

"I'll try to find a donor for you as well."

Obi-Wan's mouth dropped open. "What? I don't want a donor or a transplant! I feel fine for the first time in who knows how many years and you want to ruin it for me!"

"That's not true!" Vader huffed. "I do not want to argue with you, Obi-Wan. Why can't you cooperate? Come next door and visit Luke with me. Tell him I'm his father, if nothing else. I had hoped you'd help me tell him of the upcoming ordeal he must face, the transplant. I've never done such a thing before…"

"So," Obi-Wan said as he crossed his arms over his chest, a crooked smile on his face. "You want help telling Luke you're his father, huh? Well, Anakin, do you want help telling Princess Leia as well? Because she's your daughter!"

To be continued….