Chapter 47
Search and Rescue
Nejaa Halcyon, Jedi Master of the Corellian branch of the Jedi Temple and descendant of a long line of Jedi, beginning with the famous Keiran Halcyon, was unhappy. He sat in the mess hall of the Star Destroyer, Valiant, orbiting the occupied Separatist world of Muunilinst. There was a tray of plain, almost tasteless food in front of him, but he barely picked at it. He simply had too much on his mind.
Three days had passed since the mysterious Padawan and the clone troops he'd commanded had come to Malaar and saved him and his three companions. Three days since the young man had been shot off the side of an anonymous plateau by Trandoshan mercenaries. Three days since the clone troops had forced the four of them off-planet, leaving the Padawan behind. And in those three days, nothing had been done about it.
This bothered him immensely. And what was worse, he didn't even know the brave young man's name. Also he had yet to meet the Padawan's Master or the leader of this campaign here over Muunilinst. A string of minor crisis down on the planet's surface kept Nejaa from finding out anything.
Now he was alone in his frustrations. Just yesterday Knight Mallor the Zabrak and his Padawan Zevik had shipped out to their original destination, Aargonar. The shell-shocked Orphaned Padawan Jessca had been sent back to Coruscant two days before. And with Knight Vondo the Ithorian and Twi'lek Knight Jun'ah dead, he was the only one of the original group left here.
Spearing some unidentifiable cube of animal protein on his fork, Nejaa studied it with disgusted disinterest. Even if he was hungry he wouldn't want to eat this. Yet the scores of clones around him dug in like it was a gourmet meal. Nejaa shuddered and scraped the 'meat' cube off his fork back onto the tray.
Ugh, even Mina on her worst day can do better than this…
"Master Halcyon?" A vaguely familiar voice asked curiously.
Nejaa glanced up to see another Jedi who appeared familiar to him, but he couldn't put a name to the face immediately. "Yes?"
"I thought you were to leave with Knight Mallor and his Padawan to Aargonar." The other Jedi stated, confused.
"The need for Jedi on Aargonar is not urgent, Knight Mallor and Padawan Zevik will be sufficient for now." Nejaa shrugged. "I wished to remain here for a while longer."
"Oh," the other man blinked, taking a seat across from Nejaa at the table. "So why do you wish to remain?"
"Well I have some questions that most people around here seem too busy to answer." Nejaa grumped, poking a limp pile of steamed vegetables with his fork.
"Ah, my apologies." The other Jedi cringed. "Muunilinst has kept me busy, unfortunately."
Nejaa studied the other Jedi for a moment, scrabbling for a name. And then it hit him. "Obi-Wan," he blinked, startled, "is that you?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan frowned slightly, arching an eyebrow. "You didn't recognize me?"
"Well, partly. I just couldn't put your name with your face." Nejaa winced apologetically. "How have you been since ditching all of us crazy Corellians?" He asked curiously.
"Rather well for the most part," Obi-Wan replied, shifting in his seat to get a little more comfortable. "Until this lovely war flared up." He added with dry sarcasm.
"Yes, that's messed up a lot of things." Nejaa sighed. It certainly killed my honeymoon.
"So how have you been?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Good, very good," Nejaa grinned, almost sheepishly. "I ended up getting married just a year before the outbreak of hostilities."
Obi-Wan's jaw almost hit the tabletop. "Really?" He almost choked.
"Yes," Nejaa chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair.
Master Kenobi's reaction was just as he suspected it would be. Corellian Jedi tended to interpret the Code a little more loosely than the rest; they didn't mind bending the rules. And that was why most of the small percentage of Jedi who had married were Corellian.
"Oh," Obi-Wan muttered, running a hand over his well-trimmed beard as he tried to collect himself. "Congratulations, then." He managed after a few minutes.
"Thanks," Nejaa half-grinned. "Last time I made it home, Mina told me that she's expecting." He added, hoping to get the two major bombshells dropped and out of the way as soon as possible.
"Oh my…" Obi-Wan gaped, struggling to wrap his little Jedi mind around this shocking new piece of information. "Uh…congratulations…again."
"Thank you," Nejaa smiled, patiently sitting back and waiting for his friend to recover.
"That's…that's really…something." Obi-Wan mumbled.
"Yes. Yes it is." Nejaa sighed, resting his chin in his hand. "So what have you been up to? Any girlfriends?"
"Huh?" Obi-Wan sputtered. "No!"
"Sorry, just checking." Nejaa chuckled. "But really, what have you been up to?" He asked, sobering. "Why transfer back to Coruscant? I thought you came to Corellia to get away from there."
"I did, but the Council found a new assignment for me that I couldn't refuse." Obi-Wan shrugged, turning uncomfortable. "That's pretty much kept me busy."
"And what assignment would that be?" Nejaa asked curiously.
Obi-Wan now really looked uncomfortable. "Are you actually eating any of that?" He inquired, gesturing at the picked-over food.
"Not really, no." Nejaa sighed after looking over the rather unappetizing tray of…food.
"Well then let's continue this somewhere more private." Obi-Wan suggested, standing up.
"What, is your little assignment 'top secret'?" Nejaa joked, rising to follow his friend.
"Something like that." Obi-Wan muttered, leaving the mess hall behind.
Nejaa blinked, startled, as he trailed in Obi-Wan's wake. I was joking. But…is he serious?
Obi-Wan was not looking forward to this conversation. Not at all. He remembered Nejaa's dislike and deep distrust of Vader very well. And he could barely image how he was going to take this news…
"Okay," Nejaa sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Obi-Wan's bunk after he led him into the cabin he shared with his 'Padawan'. "We're 'more private', can you tell me now?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded, sitting down in the desk chair. "Of course. You recall that lovely runaway that I escorted to Coruscant and a date with the Jedi Council?"
Nejaa's expression darkened considerably. "Yes I do. What happened with him anyway?"
"Well the Council decided to shelter him in exchange for his information and services." Obi-Wan replied.
"What?" Nejaa blinked uneasily. "What did they do?"
"They let him stay among the Jedi, disguised as a Jedi." Obi-Wan clarified.
"What?" Nejaa hissed, alarmed.
"My assignment was to help him hide and guard him." Obi-Wan continued.
"But…but…what?" Nejaa sputtered in disbelief.
"And so far, while some are suspicious, none have discovered his true nature." Obi-Wan finished calmly.
"No one?" Nejaa choked, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"No one," Obi-Wan confirmed, "not even you."
"Not even…not even me?" Nejaa frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You know that Padawan who boldly came to your rescue on Malaar?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing wearily at the back of his neck.
"Yes, what does he have to do with anything?" Nejaa scowled.
"That was Vader." Obi-Wan answered.
The progression of expressions on Nejaa's face would've been comical had the situation not been so grave. First there was complete confusion that slowly melted into understanding and then deep utter shock. The Corellian Master was rendered totally speechless.
"Now, you understand that you can't tell anyone about this?" Obi-Wan pointed out. Nejaa nodded mutely. "Great. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find him and drag him back here." He sighed and rose to leave.
"You're going to Malaar to retrieve him?" Nejaa asked softly, his voice still numb with the shock of it all.
"Yes, I can't very well leave him there to die." Obi-Wan responded.
"Well…I might as well come with you." Nejaa groaned, standing up slowly. "Malaar is not a planet you want to traverse alone."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You want to help me?"
"Yes," Nejaa nodded stiffly, "I do."
"Then let's go." Obi-Wan turned and strode from his cabin to the hanger bay and the shuttle that would take him to Malaar. Nejaa Halcyon followed him.
The air was thick, wet, hot, and stifling. Even in shallow dark caves it was almost impossible to breathe. That left Vader just that much more miserable than he already was.
He lay curled up in a tiny hole in the ground that he had so optimistically termed a cave. There was nearly an inch of water coating the cave floor and it was filled with wriggling insect larvae. The adult forms of those larvae buzzed and hummed all around him. Some of them, the bloodsuckers, tasted him as their first meal.
Every breath was agony. He didn't think any of his ribs were broken, but a good many of them were definitely bruised. His right side was worse than his left. Either it hit the rocky slope more than his left, or it took the brunt of the explosion that knocked him loose. Or maybe it was both.
His right hand, the mechanical prosthetic, was ruined. The pinky finger was completely missing as was a section of the middle finger. The remaining fingers were twisted, scraped, and frozen into a useless clawed club. The entire arm was broken. But not broken enough for it not to send endless pain signals to his brain. The faintest jar to it made it hard for him not to scream in agony. And it didn't help that at the point where metal fused with flesh there was a ring of dried blood and angry yellow-black bruises.
His head wasn't much better. His face was cut up, especially the right side. That entire side of his face was a mass of overlapping bruises and dried blood. According to his left hand, there was a deep gash running vertically along his right temple, dangerously close to his right eye which was swollen shut. He had no idea if the eye itself was damaged.
And his body overall felt like it had been run over by a rampaging herd of Banthas. Everything hurt. He was hot. He was tired. He was thirsty. He was hungry. He just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week after eating a Nerf burger and drinking a gallon of Jawa juice. But he didn't dare.
The Trandoshans were still out there since there was still a Jedi to hunt. He'd seen them. He even managed to kill a few of them. And his continued survival made them want to kill him all the more. The score their Scorekeeper would grant them grew with each day he kept on living.
There was a rustling sound near the entrance of his 'cave'. Vader drew deeper into the shadows, pressing his back into the rough stone of the cave wall, cradling his lightsaber to his chest with his left hand. His blue eyes, glazed with fever, stared wildly out into the dense curtains of greenery.
C'mon! He snarled. Come get me you scaly bastards! Just try it!
In response, a small furry creature peeped out from under some ferns. It chittered, sniffed around a bit, and then scuttled off. There was no more rustling in the leaves.
Vader slumped down a bit, his eyelids drooping dangerously. The Force was so loud here it hurt his head. Or maybe that was the headache tied to the fact that he was starting to get sick. He had a million little cuts everywhere for germs to get in and a million and a half bug bites. He would be shocked if something wasn't infected on him somewhere.
A cramping spasm stabbed in his gut. A mixture of nausea, hunger, and thirst made him curl up and gag a little. While he waited for it to pass he was reminded of the fact that he couldn't hold out much longer.
Please Master… Please… Please…
Obi-Wan was immediately struck by the thick, hot atmosphere the instant the shuttle doors opened and the ramp lowered. All around were leaves of varying shades of green that severely limited visibility, even reducing the amount of sunlight that made it through the canopy to a dim greenish glow. And then came the insects, dense clouds of them flocked towards the new creatures who had visited their realm.
"What a lovely planet," Obi-Wan coughed, waving some pesky gnat-like insects away from his face as he strode down the ramp to the soggy ground below.
"Yes I know." Nejaa grumbled. "There seem to be more bugs than I remember though."
"Wonderful." Obi-Wan sighed.
He wandered several yards away from the parked shuttle, leaned against a tree trunk, and immersed himself in the Force. The living things around him became blinding as he opened himself to the omnipotent energy field that was the Force. But he carefully began to narrow his focus, seeking one spark in particular amongst the endless multitudes of glows.
Normally the bond he'd formed with the young man would help him. But Vader kept his end sealed tightly. Since it wasn't broken, only blocked, Obi-Wan knew that he was still alive, but that was all. Feeling a little desperate, he probed again at the block in the flow of the bond.
(Where are you?) He sent, praying to be heard. (Can you hear me? I'm here. You can take down this block now.)
Silence was his only answer. Silence and the vaguest sense of dull throbbing pain. Just as he'd feared, the young man was hurt. But how badly?
(I'm coming for you,) he promised. (Hold on just a little while longer.)
Now he turned his attention to seeking guidance from the Force. If he couldn't find Vader directly, he'd try the indirect route. Changing his focus from the Unifying aspect of the Force, he now shifted to his old Master's preferred aspect, the Living Force. It wasn't his strong point, the Unifying Force suited him better, but he'd make do with it.
A vague pathway of sorts appeared to him. A pull drew him a certain way. And he followed it.
Nejaa uneasily followed Obi-Wan as the other Master was immersed in the Force, almost in a trance. After they'd left the clearing the shuttle had taken off as instructed and was now orbiting somewhere high overhead. There were no clone troops this time, no need to give the lingering Trandoshans any more targets. So it was just him and Obi-Wan trekking through the dense, insect-infested jungle that hid dangerous Trandoshans and the mysterious Vader.
He didn't like any of this. He might be a Corellian, infamous for skirting around the rules, but anything to do with the Dark Side he didn't stand for. Therefore he disliked and distrusted Vader immensely.
However, it seemed things were much more complicated now. Vader had come to save him and his companions. He'd risked his life and ended up paying the price. That didn't fit with his memory of the boy he'd meet in Coronet or his knowledge of disciples of the Dark Side.
To clear things up for himself, Nejaa had decided to come along and meet Vader again. He wanted to get to know this young man a bit better, try to figure him out. And he hoped to form a more accurate opinion of the mysterious Darksider, see just what the Council had seen in him to offer him what they had.
Obi-Wan led the two of them into a small clearing that was just large enough for a beam of sunlight to pierce the dense jungle canopy. He paused there and Nejaa looked around, alert for any threats. Instead of finding any threats, he found a body sprawled out under some bushes.
A tan scaly Trandoshan lay there. Its red eyes were filmed over and its mouth hung open, slack in death. Because of the hot humid climate, the corpse, though only a day or two old, was badly decomposed.
Nejaa grimaced in disgust as he studied the dead mercenary. This definitely wasn't the work of some local predator. Not unless some animal had developed the ability to wield a lightsaber, or cause damage exactly like one.
"Something's off," Obi-Wan remarked, coming to stand at Nejaa's shoulder. It seemed he'd lost his grip on his trance for the moment.
"Oh?" Nejaa prompted curiously.
"These strikes are too wild, sloppy." Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "It's almost like…like he fought with his left hand."
"Maybe he did." Nejaa shrugged. "I'd be surprised if he didn't break something with the fall he took."
Obi-Wan stood there, staring at the dead Trandoshan and stroking his beard while he thought, before moving on. Nejaa again followed him as he sensed Obi-Wan sink back into the currents of the Force. As Obi-Wan focused his attention elsewhere, opening himself to potential attack, Nejaa prepared to defend his companion if necessary.
Together they forayed deeper into the steamy jungle in search of the still-missing Vader. For hours they hiked over fallen trees and through thick clumps of vegetation. And aside from another dead, rotting Trandoshan, they found nothing…
Vader swayed unsteadily as he crouched in the back of his cave. His left hand clutched the hilt of his saber so tightly that his knuckles bleached white. His eyes were focused on the entranceway of his soaked, insect-filled sanctuary. This time he was certain, beyond a fevered shadow of a doubt, that he was being hunted by the enemy.
Despite the pounding throb in his skull he forced himself to concentrate. If he was going to survive this next encounter, he needed the Force's assistance. And he had it, so long as he could keep his fevered thoughts in order.
Some plants swayed ever so slightly as the hunter cautiously crept closer. The Trandoshan didn't know if anything was hiding here, Vader sensed, but better safe than sorry. Vader wished the rotten reptile would hurry up. His legs couldn't hold this position for much longer.
Gotta wait for it… Wait for it Anakin, he coached himself. Just a little bit more… Wait for it… Wait for it… And…now!
Vader lunged awkwardly out of his tiny hiding space and lit his lightsaber. His opponent reared back, red eyes wide, hissing in surprise. Baring his teeth grimly, Vader clumsily swung his weapon around and struck the young Trandoshan in the shoulder. It howled in agony, revealing a mouthful of sharp curved teeth, but it didn't drop its weapon. Before it could recover, Vader thrust his blade into its chest, quickly ending its suffering.
As the Trandoshan slumped to the ground with a rasping gurgle, Vader extinguished his blade and fled the scene. If he stayed the Trandoshan's companions would find him and exact revenge. That would be decidedly be bad for his already failing health.
Limping along at a rapidly slowing pace, Vader scrambled through Malaar's dense hot jungle. He had no particular direction in mind, just anywhere away from where he'd been. And anywhere away from the reptilian hunters that obsessively pursued him.
This is the worst Life Day ever! I hate being twenty-one! Master…Master where are you?
Obi-Wan carefully pushed through a particularly thick tangle of vines to find what he presumed to be the base of the plateau his Padawan had been shot off of. It wasn't terribly high as plateaus went, or overly steep, but it was enough of both to be a challenge. He certainly wouldn't want to take a spill down it.
Near the summit, he spied a black scorch mark. A shiver rippled down his spine as he realized what it was. That was the point where Vader had been blast free from his perch by a rocket-propelled shrapnel grenade.
Shaking his head to clear it of rising morbid thoughts, he carefully picked his way over the rocky base of plateau, seeking any clues. At first all he found were a few lizards sunning themselves on some boulders. But then, hidden in the shade of one of those boulders, he found something.
It was covered in yellowish dust and full of rips and tears, but it was still recognizable. Obi-Wan carefully lifted the ruined dark cloak up in the light to better examine the damage. It was hard to keep from losing hope as he counted the holes in it.
"This is not terribly encouraging," he sighed softly.
"Well what do you make of this?" Nejaa asked quietly.
Obi-Wan turned to see him standing a few yards up the slope. Nejaa was turning some tiny object over in his hands. Obi-Wan cautiously picked his way up to get a better look. It was small, metallic, shiny, golden in color…
"I do believe that," Obi-Wan squinted, "that is his pinky finger." …Oh Star's End.
"Who's finger?" Nejaa choked, almost dropping the metallic digit.
"You missed Vader's new right hand?" Obi-Wan frowned.
"Yeah," Nejaa blinked. He closed his eyes and, with the aid of the Force, he reviewed his memories to see if he'd seen the right hand. "What happened to his old one?" He asked for a moment.
"A duel on Geonosis did not go our way and Count Dooku exacted some revenge on him." Obi-Wan replied.
Nejaa gaped in disbelief. "What–"
Several angry red laser blasts exploded from the trees aimed at their heads and chests. Nejaa dropped the metal finger and the both of them managed to draw and light their sabers just in time to deflect the killing energy beams. With those blasts rendered harmless, they focused on the direction they came from, ready and waiting for more.
No more came. Instead a trio of Trandoshans boldly slunk out of the jungle and into plain view. Without the plant life to shield them, their brownish scales and green jumpsuits granted them no camouflage. Each one cradled a long-range blaster rifle in their claws, but they made no moves to raise and fire them. They knew the Jedi would not attack them unless they started firing at them. The trio hissed and snarled at each other for a few minutes in their native language before the senior one amongst them spoke up in hissing Basic.
"What bringsss you here Jedi?" He snarled.
"We're just here to collect something we left behind last time." Obi-Wan replied casually. His blade, as well as Nejaa's, remained lit, though pointed at the ground, indicating his willingness to talk peacefully.
"You wassste your time," the Trandoshan sneered. "He isss oursss now." He then reached into his pocket with one taloned hand and pulled out a frayed length of plaited dirty-blonde hair. "Sssee?"
If Obi-Wan hadn't had the bond and felt that it was still intact, he would've been distressed by this sight. As it was, it only worried him a little more than he already was. First a finger and now part of his hair…are we going to be following a trail of his body parts to find him?
"That's hardly proof," Obi-Wan shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.
The Trandoshan's lips twitched, briefly flashing his snout full of pointy teeth. "You don't care that your preciousss Padawan hasss died?"
"That hair tells me nothing," Obi-Wan replied. "It could be anyone's."
The mercenary snarled a curse and roughly shoved the severed braid back into his pocket. "You call me a liar?"
"No, I haven't called you anything." Obi-Wan corrected.
"You insssult me!" The Trandoshan snapped.
"I did not," Obi-Wan frowned. "I merely pointed out that a tiny braid of Human hair is not sufficient proof of death."
"Really? It isss my underssstanding that no Jedi Padawan would be caught dead without one." He spat venomously.
"Accidents happen," Obi-Wan stated, "hair grows back, you know."
"You insssult my intelligence!" The Trandoshan roared.
"No I didn't." Obi-Wan protested.
The Trandoshan only snarled back, as did his two companions. All three of them cursed him out in their native tongue and Obi-Wan and Nejaa cringed at the harsh sounds. They couldn't attack though, the mercenaries kept the barrels of their rifles pointed at the ground.
A blaster bolt whizzed between the two Jedi from…behind them? Nejaa spun around to deal with the new threat while Obi-Wan continued to face the trio of Trandoshans, his saber now raised in a more aggressive posture. Now the Trandoshans' bold move to reveal themselves made sense. They were a decoy force to draw the Jedi's attention away from the sniper that aimed to kill them.
Angry that their sniper had missed so widely, the three Trandoshans in front of them raised their rifles to shoot. Before they could attack, Obi-Wan was on them. In a few short seconds two of the rifles were ruined, their barrels dramatically shortened, one Trandoshan was lacking a forearm and another was lacking his head. The two survivors, one maimed and the other sufficiently terrified, stumbled back into the safety of the sheltering jungle. The headless corpse remained where it fell.
That threat well taken care of, Obi-Wan turned to assist Nejaa with the sniper. The thing was, no more shots came. And something felt odd about that direction.
"Something's up over there." Obi-Wan frowned.
"Hmm," Nejaa grunted, his eyes fixed on the exact spot he thought the blaster bolt had come from.
Without another word, the two of them slowly advanced on the position, their sabers still lit. The suspected sniper's nest was a small ridge half a mile away from where they'd stood. It was covered in thick brush and trees with limp, low-hanging branches, a perfect place to hide.
Sensing no immediate danger, no malicious mind of a cornered enemy, they carefully moved the cover aside when they reached the spot and found out the answers to several questions. The reason for the missed shot, the lack of other shots, and the lack of danger was that the sniper was dead. The Trandoshan lay slumped on it's side with a lightsaber burn right through it's back and into its chest.
"Well now we know why he missed us." Obi-Wan remarked, scratching at his beard.
Nejaa's response to that was to let out an ear-piercing whistle.
"Ow," Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing at his ringing ears. "A little warning next time, please."
"Sorry," Nejaa muttered, scanning their surroundings. "But he can't have gone too far."
Obi-Wan was about to ask who he was talking about, but then he answered his own question. This Trandoshan had been killed with a lightsaber. There was only one other being on this planet besides them that wielded a lightsaber. And that was exactly who they were here to find.
(Padawan!) He called, frustrated to find that the block was still in place. (Take this block down and talk to me! Hey!)
Obi-Wan was about to try and hail Vader again when he felt the barrier waver and then slowly dissolve. Pain was the first thing he sensed through the freed bond. Pain, then all manner of misery, followed by faint, desperate, wavering hope.
(M-Master?) Vader was so worn down that even his mental contact felt raw, hoarse. (Is that really you?)
(Of course it's me,) Obi-Wan snorted. (Who else would be talking to you like this? Now come along back here before Master Halcyon decides to whistle again and permanently damages my hearing.)
(Yes Master,) was his weary response.
"He's coming," Obi-Wan announced quietly, shutting off his saber and clipping it back to his belt.
"You're sure?" Nejaa frowned, doing the same with his own saber.
"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded. "So no more whistling if you please."
"Oh alright," Nejaa sighed.
Obi-Wan settled himself down on a half-rotted tree trunk that was conveniently close by. Nejaa stood nearby, keeping an eye out for any trouble. And that was how they waited.
…For about five minutes or so.
"Yagh!" A hoarse cry and then the filthy, haggard form of Vader fell through some brush into a heap at their feet. "…Uhn…" He groaned, but made no immediate attempt to get up.
From what Obi-Wan could see – mostly Vader's back – the young man didn't look very good. There just as many rips in his tunics as there had been in his abandoned cloak. His tunics were also soaked and stained with mud and what looked to be blood. And he didn't smell particularly pleasant either.
"You look terrible," Obi-Wan mumbled, blurting out the first thing that came to mind in his shock.
"Thank you," Vader muttered into the dirt.
Quickly Obi-Wan shook off his surprise and knelt down to help heft Vader up. "Come on, get up, let me see the rest of you."
Vader sluggishly did his best to obey. He squirmed around on the ground until he managed to prop himself up into a sitting position. Obi-Wan did his best not to gasp or recoil at what he saw.
The young man was an absolute mess. His right arm was cradled against his chest and tucked into the front of his layered tunics, hiding whatever damage the prosthetic had sustained from sight. His face was a collage of cuts and bruises, the right side being worse than the left. There was a deep gash dangerously close to the corner of his right eye, which was swollen shut. The left eye was bloodshot and hazy with fever, the eyelid flickered and drooped, struggling to stay open. And there was only a frayed tuft of hair left where his Padawan braid had been.
"Star's End," Obi-Wan cursed softly.
"Damn, I must really look bad," Vader rasped, choking painfully on a half-hysterical laugh. "I got you to swear!"
"Well, if you can still laugh, there's still hope for you." Obi-Wan joked. "Come on," he coaxed, holding out a hand, "let's get off this planet."
Vader eagerly reached up with his left hand, only to stop halfway when he realized he was still clutching his lightsaber hilt. Scowling he awkwardly reached around to hook the metal cylinder to its clip on his right side. Then he was able to take Obi-Wan's hand and be pulled to his feet.
Obi-Wan helped support the swaying younger man, looping Vader's left arm over his shoulders and sliding his right arm around the 'Padawan's' waist. Vader gratefully leaned on Obi-Wan and his weight almost sent the both of them back down to the ground. Seeing this, Nejaa approached and helped support Vader on his right side.
To do this properly, Vader had to remove his right hand from the concealing folds of his tunics and wrap it around Nejaa's shoulders. That revealed just how damaged the robotic prosthetic was. It was dull with scratches and scuffs and dings, and the hand itself was frozen in a mangled useless claw.
"You really are a mess." Obi-Wan sighed as he and Nejaa basically dragged Vader's weak, shaky form out of the trees and into the clear rocky ground at the base of the plateau. It wasn't the best place to get the shuttle to land and pick them up, but it would have to do. Vader was just too big and heavy to move very far, very fast. "You'll be in a Bacta tank for at least a month." He grumbled with false-seriousness.
"I hate Bacta," Vader moaned weakly. "It's all cold and sticky and nasty."
"It's a necessary evil." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't think anyone really likes Bacta. But it works."
"I know," Vader mumbled. And then, while Nejaa hailed the shuttle, Vader made a strange comment. "I miss sand," he sighed.
"Oh?" Obi-Wan blinked, confused.
"Dry heat I can take," Vader coughed, "but not this. Air is not meant to be tangible." His voice sounded distant, like he wasn't all there. Considering the fact that he probably hadn't slept all that much in the three days that he'd been stranded here and that he was probably sick, it was very possible that he wasn't entirely there.
"Well we'll be out of here soon." Obi-Wan murmured soothingly. "Back into nice, recycled, climate-controlled air."
"Five minutes," Nejaa added, informing them of the shuttle's estimated time of arrival.
Vader only sighed and slumped down between the two Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan and Nejaa strained under Vader's dead weight and fervently wished the shuttle would hurry up and get them. Time decided to slow to a crawl, making the wait stretch on forever.
When the shuttle finally did touch down, the two Jedi Masters wasted no time in dragging Vader aboard. They strapped him into a seat, strapped themselves in, and signaled to the pilots to lift off. As the vehicle shuddered through the layers of the atmosphere, Vader gave a hoarse laugh.
"This is the greatest Life Day present ever!" He cackled, then dissolved into a brief spasm of coughing.
"That's right," Obi-Wan chuckled, "it is your Life Day today, isn't it."
"Yeah," Vader panted then, just after the shuttle made the transition to light speed, fell silent.
A little worried at the sudden silence, Obi-Wan twisted around to glance at Vader. The young man was completely limp, out cold. Now that he was off the planet and safely in hyperspace, he could finally relax enough to sleep. Obi-Wan smiled sadly.
Happy Life Day. Sweet dreams…