:: Chapter Fifty Four::
The ceiling was still a yellowish white, nothing different at all—had it always been so? Without warmth or anything resembling the sense of safety and protection. Dull and cold, but weren't most ceilings?
Lord Scourge attempted to roll onto his side but his body lacked the strength and he closed his eyes again. There was a minor breeze that pulled through the recovery room—he could hear the air conditioning running—but did he feel it too or was the cooling effect on his skin just a figment of his imagination?
He smelled nothing. Not the penetrating scent of cleaning agents or disinfectants, and not the doctor in his nearby office who's odor he'd grown more familiar with in the past than he cared to. What he wouldn't give to gag over Doc's cologne now though.
Another consideration crossed his mind when he opened his eyes again—maybe the ceiling had always resembled a blank canvas left exposed to the sun too often.
There wasn't a fraction of change noticeable in his body and he resented it. Another treatment endured and another tally for his list of disappointments. Too many of them with only one blessing—he'd lived like this before and managed to adapt, and he could again.
He almost resigned himself to slumber a second time when he caught something from the corner of his eye. Someone approached but not quite as the ashen figure he'd seen most recently. The scarlet of her hair, like a hooded mantle framing her face and shoulders, vibrant and alive, was the first thing the cones of his eyes detected.
Until she drew nearer and every other part of her emerged from achromatic shadows. Light-blue, synthcloth pajama bottoms and a simple white tank. Chipped, black nail polish at the ends of her fingertips. Her skin exactly as he remembered, a light beige, but was any of it real or just another memory come to torment him?
"Scourge?" Eliza asked and took his hand.
He noticed that too and not because he saw it but he felt just the faintest pressure close around his fingers. Was this really happening? Perhaps he still lingered in his own subconscious dreaming about senses he no longer possessed.
Just like the oceans he would have drowned in for a lifetime, was the clear blue of her eyes. More memories to be sure, same as the Lyris flower that teased his nostrils when she leaned in to kiss his forehead. Such tender lips. So soothing and warm they could awaken the greatest feeling of serenity and love in one's heart but they didn't do that today—there was no emotion to accompany the physical sensation.
It had to be a figment of his imagination, all of it, and his free hand reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger. The strands as long and striking as he remembered but the texture was different—cold and still slightly moist from her shower. Not imaginary and not a dream built upon memory, this was real.
"Eliza..." he uttered in astonishment and again he tried to move his body.
This time, his knees arched and he used his feet to push off against the mattress allowing him to shift his position and sit upright.
"Hi. How are you feeling?" She leaned into his palm cupping her cheek.
"You still wear the same perfume I bought for your twenty-first birthday. Lyris flower and snow wood."
"Of course I do. It's my favorite, has been since... Wait, how—"
"But you've exchanged your blossom body wash for coconut."
"The blossom makes me queasy right now—it's too strong. Scourge, are you telling me you can smell these things?"
"Unless reality and my imagination have blurred the lines and I can no longer set them apart."
Her eyes widened and her smile grew until she parted her lips, ready to shout but Lord Scourge's hand covered her mouth quickly. "Not yet. Let me enjoy this for a moment before you call Doc in to prod and probe me."
"Sorry. I'm just... is this real? Is it a temporary improvement or—"
"We'll find out soon. I'd almost forgotten how vivid your hair is, and the wonder of seeing the world as its meant to be seen. Is it still day out?"
"Night's fallen. Theron told me you'd undergone your second treatment ahead of time, I had to see you. Why did you do it?"
"You asked me to honor my promise and I agreed. I may never again be the man I was once but if these treatments can bring me closer to him then that is what I will do."
"Are you... how much can you experience? Do you feel?"
"The soft flesh of your cheek, yes. Physical stimulation but nothing further. My emotions are void."
Eliza nodded and perched herself on the side of his bed. "What about your overall health? Are you tired, sore, in pain?"
"Drowsy from the procedure but otherwise feeling good. Can I ask for a strange favor?"
"Of course."
"Lie down with me so I can feel your warmth and have your scent. I need the reminder this is real, that I can experience these things for the moment."
She smiled and sunk into his embrace, stretching out next to him. "I hope this will last."
"That would be preferable." He tipped her chin up and stared into her eyes, reading her like an open book—some things never changed.
"But my well being isn't the sole reason for your visit though, is it?"
"No, but I don't want to burden you either."
"Tell me."
"Vitiate threatened my son," she let out with a sigh.
Everything she'd come to learn in the past half day spilled from her lips and ended with the advice she'd been given by Lord Dramath. Just like Theron, Lord Scourge held his own reservations toward the extreme risks she would have to take but he knew all too well there were no other options.
"This is how he has escaped defeat. How did I not sense or know this? I was with him for centuries," Lord Scourge scolded himself.
"You only ever knew him as a fragmented man and even then, his power was vastly overwhelming. There is no way anyone could have guessed or known."
"The Hand knew—his Servants you said—do they pose a threat?"
"They disappeared shortly after the fall of Ziost, no one knows where they are today."
"You understand there is a possibility that the Emperor lied, yes?"
"Oh, I know, believe me, but it doesn't matter. Ruse or not, this is a risk I cannot take."
"No. He won't have your son, or you." His fingertips caressed the small of her back. Skin to skin—good—he still felt the sensations.
"Scourge, do you believe Dramath told the truth?"
"He has little to gain from lying."
"Save for his freedom," Eliza pointed out.
"His freedom is essential. See, I've long heard rumor about a prison designed for the Emperor—by the last true Kissai—and such a cage can only ever hold one of great power," Lord Scourge recalled.
"You remember I served as his executioner?"
"How could I forget?"
"I was also ordered to hold families hostage. Husbands, wives, and children of archaeologists whose services he required. I had always assumed he merely wished to obtain every artifact known to hold substantial power until one woman returned with a holocron similar to the one you have.
"He became gleeful, elated, quite unusually so which drew my curiosity but the object appeared to be a forgery. Others who'd outlived their usefulness were often cut down by my blade, as was my duty, but not her. He tormented her for weeks before he ended her life. I never understood then what it could be that he so desperately sought or why he took such personal offense to the woman's failure."
Lord Scourge looked at her again. "I understand now."
"He was looking for his prison."
"Yes, which is why I believe what Lord Dramath has told you. Have you freed him?"
"Not yet. We wanted your opinion first."
"Good, I would like to speak with him myself and I will accompany you to Zakuul."
"I won't risk you. We've fought too hard to bring you home," Eliza argued.
"And you think you can stop me?"
"Do you recall your protests on Nathema? Safe to say I won that fight."
"Not this time. You need me and I still believe in my vision, I have to be there."
"You can't help, not in my fight against Vitiate."
"I can."
"How?"
Lord Scourge smirked at the defiant look on her face. "I will anchor myself to the holocron and use it to guide my way."
"Into my mind? You could do that?"
"Yes. I know the technique, not too dissimilar from the one used to create the holocron in the first place."
Eliza's brows furrowed and she blew out a small puff. "Benefits of being old as dirt, I guess."
"Exactly."
She chuckled. "Fine. If Doc can assure me that this endeavor won't cause further harm to your condition or damage the progress you've made, you can come."
Now it was Lord Scourge's turn to scoff though his smirk remained, "I'd like to see him try and stop me but if it pleases you, I'll get a written permission slip."
"It would please me," she retorted with a twinkle in her eyes. "This is nice, reminds me of the early days after you first joined our crew."
"All that's missing is the gentle drift of the ship while traveling through space."
"And the bickering of Teeseven and Ceetwo out in the hallway."
"Can't say I miss that."
Eliza pushed up on one elbow and ran the back of her fingers down his cheek. "Do you still feel it?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad. A good sign, hopefully. Promise you'll allow Doc to run his tests in the morning?"
"I promise."
She leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his temple. "Thank you. I should go and get to bed but... Scourge, if this change is for real, oh I can't wait for you to meet her."
"Our daughter."
"Yes."
"Neither can I. Good night, Eliza."
"Good night…" She held her step for one second of temptation where she considered a more loving way of saying goodnight but then quickly spun around.
On her way out, she dimmed the lights and Lord Scourge settled back between the sheets, his cheek buried into the pillow that held her scent. Sleep took him fast and his dreams were plenty that night—memories revived through the return of his basic senses—but vivid as they were, he remained an outsider. Without the emotions to accompany him he was no more than a stranger looking into a warm home unable to partake in the simpler joys of life.
Soon, perhaps.
The rich aromas of a dark caf stirred him from slumber the next morning and after his eyes had adjusted to the light, he spotted Theron waiting just outside Doc's office. Hands dug into his pockets and idly rocking back and forth on the padding of his feet until he heard a stifled yawn.
"I was told your senses might be returning." Theron indicated at the breakfast tray by Lord Scourge's bed. "Thought you might enjoy a real meal in that case."
"Thanks. Are you here for another check-up?"
"The last one. Eliza won't let me accompany her to Zakuul until she's certain my injuries have healed."
"Sounds familiar." Lord Scourge put the caf to his lips and a deep sigh poured through him when the warm brew filled his mouth.
"Are you sure you're fit for battle? You've been in a worse state than I."
"It wasn't long ago you were suspended in kolto while I sat by your tank and, does it matter? Could either of us stand to send her into the fray alone?"
"No, but she would prefer it that way. She's tired of risking those she loves. I do understand."
"Victory always comes at a price."
Theron scoffed but he couldn't bring himself to disagree. "Has there been any change for you overnight? Further improvement to your condition?"
"I have not regained my emotions if that is what you mean to ask."
"Just curious."
"It won't change anything even if I do."
"How can you know? You are incapable of experiencing love, anger or even jealousy but that doesn't mean those feelings aren't there."
"No, they likely are," Lord Scourge conceded with some reluctance.
"I once met an agent who'd been undercover with the Hutts for three years. A brilliant man, one of the best in the field, but I was there when the Director tried to establish a timeline based on his reports. Certain things he remembered clear as day—the number of slaves taken, tasks they were assigned to, the exact schedule for the weapon and spice trades—but a lot of gaps remained in his story.
"There were things he had seen, and perhaps had even been forced to partake in, that his mind was unwilling to remember or experience again."
"Why tell me this?" Lord Scourge arched a brow.
"You and I, we're not friends but I know enough to know you've suffered unspeakable cruelties over the past years. You lost everything for a second time, save for your intelligent and strong mind."
"You think my own mind is deceiving me? Blocking my emotions because they are too much to bear?"
"It's possible. A natural response to trauma and distress, even in the strongest among us."
The theory held enough merit that Lord Scourge couldn't dismiss it out of hand but it offered no solution either. "It makes no difference."
"Have you considered meditation?"
"Between the blood draws, testing, and forced bed rest? No."
"Perhaps when all this is over huh?"
"Why does this matter to you?"
Theron shrugged. "It was just an idea, do with it as you will."
"Are you not concerned for what you might lose if I do regain all my emotions?"
"Terrified, but I think you and I both know we're destined to share her love regardless of which one of us she chooses to be with."
"Mm, yes." Lord Scourge nodded. "She never let you go once she returned to Dromund Kaas. It did not diminish her love for me or affect our marriage—what we had was a true gift—but you always remained in her heart."
"As she did in mine."
"And now you're about to become a father."
"Yeah. Got any advice?"
"Enjoy every simple but precious second of it. Not just once the child is born but while she is pregnant too. It could all be gone one day." His brows furrowed and Theron understood his meaning well.
"I will, thanks."
A faintly familiar, and unpleasant, scent reached Lord Scourge's nostrils before Doc even entered the medbay and he grinned. "Time for your checkup it would seem. Good luck."
"Right." Theron spun around and waved Doc over. "You too. I do hope the results bear good news."
The Sith merely nodded. Could his mind really be the answer to part of his own affliction? He understood the concept well enough—a form of protection often seen in survivors—but he'd rarely considered himself as such. Force users would frequently use their mind to block out physical pain in combat and continue fighting but he never had. He'd always welcomed the pain but perhaps this time, the emotional trauma had been too much.
On Nathema, he'd given up, quite contrary to the fighter he'd always been and for the first time in his far too long life, he'd wanted to welcome death. Deprived of his senses, robbed of his wife and child and of the future he'd built. Centuries of suffering endured only to be subjected to the same fate a second time. There was no recollection of if or when he'd flipped the switch. Pain and torment had gone from negligible to unbearable and at one point, almost non existent.
"I'm just going to run a few tests," Doc's words pulled Lord Scourge from his thoughts an hour later but only barely.
He was still preoccupied retracing his steps of the past years and wished he had his diary with him. He'd reduced his every experience to a series of numbers then to map his life and mark all that he had lost—could it be he'd formed his own emotional cage in those moments?
While another blood sample was drawn, and he winced momentarily, he recalled sitting on his cot inside his cell days before writing that journal entry.
His thoughts had been with Eliza, fighting to remember every single detail about her but it had hurt too much. Tears had formed in his eyes trying to imagine the way she would have looked holding their daughter for the first time—exhausted, sweaty, tearful and yet smiling—but rather than relish in the beauty, he'd gotten angry and hopeless realizing he'd already missed everything.
His nerves had been tightly wound and on fire. Sheer agony had taken over and he'd screamed until his throat was raw. Thrown himself against every wall and tried to punch and claw his cell door from its hinges. He'd felt panicked, short of air and as if an invisible tormentor had been squeezing his heart. He'd blacked out not long after.
'Could that have been when…' he wondered before Doc's hand clapped his shoulder and startled him.
"I'm astonished by these results. I mean I'd hoped but this…" The man scratched his head and checked the readouts again. "It's remarkable."
"Meaning?" Lord Scourge careened his neck to look at the chart though the numbers and medical terms would make little sense to him.
"Uh… it would seem the elimination of corrupted cells and the repairs made have reactivated your regenerative properties. Your stats are almost back to normal for a man of your… well, would-be age and size, and your body is healing itself."
A wide grin spread across Doc's face. "Of course, the teeth you've lost won't grow back but heh, luckily for you those were just two molars in the back. It won't affect that dangerous smile of yours that makes most people want to run and hide. They can be replaced though if you'd like."
"Does that mean I can finally leave this bed? Will I be able to go to Zakuul?"
"Yeah, you're clear to join their mission and move into a different room but I do want you back here regularly just to keep an eye on your progress."
He'd barely gotten through that last sentence when Lord Scourge was already on his feet, desperately craving fresh air. "You're not the only one."
"No, quite a surprise huh? Betcha didn't think I could do it."
Lord Scourge smirked and the smallest twinkle set his eyes alight. "You do serve your purposes."
The warmth of the sun teasing his face and forearms was unlike anything he'd expected to ever feel again. A cool breeze blew sand and dust up on the landing platforms outside the base and he smirked when they tickled his toes. Someone nearby was indulging themselves with spice-filled cigarette or pipe, he could smell it where he stood, and his world looked alive once more. Bright, shining, inviting and full of color and though the sensation failed to reach his awareness, he was glad for the stubbornness of those in his life who'd insisted on saving him.
