Chapter 4: Fight and Flight
The once serene and white medical bay had somehow evolved into a war zone.
Alarms refused to quiet. Monitors and scanners hummed in their lifeless, yet somehow rhythmically musical tones. The figure lying still on the med unit operating table was nightmarish art concealed under an organized mess of wires, cords, tubes, lines, synth and bacta applicants of all shapes and sizes. Yet the terrifying dark armor existed like a toxic, bleeding stain among the sterile white, life-giving equipment.
"It's hopeless, Sera," Dr. Zathan pointed out with a grim smile from where he stood, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed in front of him.
"IF YOU AREN'T GOING TO HELP," the Zabrak shouted without even turning to look at her teacher and mentor, "LEAVE."
The medical technician stalked out silently, suppressed anger in his narrowed eyes, keeping his angry thoughts to himself. The dark haired medical assistant straightened the sterile glove on her left wrist, and tried to concentrate. Her hand shook only slightly as she took hold of the handheld vibro saw.
"Ready to begin surgery..." she stated with fierce authority as she activated the saw.
"Life stats at 15.72," The tall FX droid alerted.
"...Now."
Please don't wake up again.
The sharp, ringing clank of metal sounded clear and heartlessly as the droids moved their delicate, precise appendages, flicking open retractable saws and needles.
My name is Anakin Skywalker.
The landscape was a tortured black mass of frozen lava flows. A bitter wind whipped heavily through the air, carrying needles of ice.
Anakin took it all in without emotion, unable to tell himself apart from the cold and lifeless darkness.
They stood there silently, facing each other.
Sera had to look away in sickened horror from the sight as the armor was cut apart and pulled away. How... How was he still alive?!
"Initial tissue damage calculations incorrect. Life stats estimated less than 13.72."
"Collect tissue samples for analysis," Sera managed hoarsely as she shook her head quickly to clear it, and went back to the operation.
The imposing black figure of black armor stared facing the exhausted human. They seemed to share the same shadow as it stretched across the snow and hardened lake of lava.
"I've been a fool for so long." Anakin Skywalker spoke quietly, an icy cloud of breath escaping his mouth. A lightsaber ignited downward in a sharp snap-hiss of brilliant blue light.
The lightsaber flashed outward in a lethal arc...
...and clashed with a shriek on a flame of red.
Darth Vader held the Sith blade outstretched in the black gauntlet of his hand. The Dark Lord lowered the blade of brilliant red blood and hate, forcing the blue saber of cold, silent emotion toward the uneven stone.
On the operating unit the patient suddenly tensed, straining and pulling against the restraints in a jolt. Sera jumped in brief and embarrassing surprise at the sudden flicker of life.
"Increase Oblivane anesthetic solution to five percent." The Iridonian called out.
The screams of the clashing lightsabers were the same screams of emotion far within his own heart and being, exploding freely outward into new existence.
He twisted and dodged and danced out of the way of the venomous red light and struck outward with the blade he held only in one hand.
The fragile white floating in the air swirled away from the very presence of the Force radiating off the two fighting beings. No matter how fast and far Anakin moved and slashed the dark shadow always seemed to deflect every strike, hardly moving at all. Anakin spun and cut violently outward as he threw his whole body into the movement. He twisted and feinted a strike and
He fell.
He had tried so hard not to.
As the dark armor was slowly taken apart, everything started to go wrong. The patient still struggled, unconsciously fighting the changes taking place and the help trying to be administered. Flashing and searing sparks flew everywhere. The FX droids taking part in the operation had to constantly stop and replace the severely dulled saws from cutting through the almost impenetrable armor.
Even worse was the process of cutting away all the dead flesh and tissue.
FX-8 stated over the noise of the operation, "Error: Life signs too erratic for estimation."
The medical technician was holding up her gloved hand in shockShe couldn't hear the alarms and monitors screaming out warnings and the droids making calculations for doses and possible antidotes. Operations were usually bloody and she never had a problem with that.
But this was not blood.
The very essence of shadow seemed to stain her glovesSera had known something was wrong, and there it was in front of her widened eyes. She wafted her other hand over it cautiously, and jerked her head away as a not-smell that made her skin crawl and stomach drop brushed over her.
Poison? But who could…?
"Life signs failing."
The Zabrak's shock suddenly broke when she finally heard the world around her.
"Activate gas binders. I want the toxin cleared out immediately. And take some samples for analysis," the medical technician ordered as she adjusted the settings on the med unit screen. Needlesopened from their places on the operating unit and injected with a simultaneous twist and click to begin their task of cleaning out toxins.
"Life signs now falling at a rate of 54."
"What? No!" Sera looked frantically at all of the data readings on the screens and monitors, but the flaw or failure couldn't be found.
He hadn't cried out as he struck the ice and ash floor. It seemed to drag him down and hold him there in the pain and cold. The shadow towered over him, blotting out any light there might have been in this place of darkness and death.
"Can't you see?" Darth Vader spoke with his dark helmet inclined forward. "I've already won."
Anakin shouted out in the endless and empty cold that did not listen. "NEVER! Never again!"
The wind blew harder and colder, mingling ash with ice in the empty and dead air.
"You need me to survive," The Dark Lord continued sadistically. "You always will."
"I hate you!" Anakin screamed in bitter hopelessness, trying not to hear the truth eating at his insides, hating every part of it.
My name is Anakin Skywalker... I am Darth Vader.
"NOOOOO!!!" Anakin screamed out wildly in heart wrenching pain. He called the lightsaber to his hand, leaping up in a fury of anger and energy.
The cold darkness only laughed.
... My name...
... My name is Anakin Skywalker...
And laughed.
"Life signs failing," the FX-8 droid alerted again.
Sera tore off the stained gloves, ignoring the burning sting she felt from the black liquid as it touched her hands in her hurry. She was sure was only her imagination.
Sera hesitated a moment and carefully prepared one final injection.
"Doctor, what is that?" One of the medical droids queried, almost hesitantly.
"Thanatizine."
The droid jolted from shock. "Action unadvised. Life signs too low."
"I know," The medical technician said softly as she carefully stuck in the final needle.
There was nothing else she could do for now.
-SOS-
It was midmorning on Home One, andthe primary hangar bay was filled with newly arrived ships, laughing and talking pilots, and mechanics happily repairing ships damaged from the battle before. Everyone here seemed so content with life, the universe, and everything, that Lando felt out of place.
"So...uh...where is Han now?" The dark skinned gambler turned nervously to the Wookie towering over him. The two old friends were in front of the Millennium Falcon assessing the damage and trying to... predict Han Solo's eminent reaction.
Chewbacca roared an answer and shrugged.
"I do believe he went to find Princess Leia. I don't think he's seen her since last night," Threepio offered as Artoo whistled an affirmative.
"Well then, that's good to hear." Lando finally relaxed, a confident smile on his face. "Leia will put Han in a good mood, for sure."
Artoo beeped a warning and called their attention to the other end of the hangar bay. They watched the ex-smuggler enter and slowly made his way toward them, staring down at the floor.
"Oh, perfect." Lando straightened his shirt and cape and tried to mentally prepare his case. Artoo whistled anxiously and Chewbacca crossed his hairy arms, watching in seemingly amused silence.
Han Solo looked up at his friends hopefully. "Hey..."
When he saw the looks on their faces he suddenly turned to the Falcon.
And stared in utter shock.
"Look, Han, I can explain…"
Lando trailed off as Han continued to stare at the Falcon, namely at its complete lack of communications dish, and the black scoring that surrounded the damaged area.
"Han?" Lando asked his friend anxiously.
Han shook his head 'no no no no no' frantically and made a sound of utter disbelief.
"Han... it's okay... I'll fix it," Lando suggested with a smile, hands outstretched in what he hoped was a placating gesture.
"What did you do to my ship!?"
"Han, it's a little scratch..." Lando tried to reason.
"Oh?" Han put his hands on his waist, and gestured angrily. "A little scratch huh?"
"Yeah," Lando affirmed, looking offended.
"Look! Look at that!" Han pointed to where the main sensor dish had been scraped off in the narrow insides of the Death Star. "That's more than a little scratch!"
"Well, fine. If you're gonna get technical about it, I said 'not a scratch', and that's not a 'scratch.'"
"You're paying for it." Han pointed firmly at him, and started off toward the freighter.
"Fine with me," Lando answered as he walked after his friend.
"And I want some new stabilizers, and—"
"Hey, let's not overreact here." Lando cut him off quickly, defensive at the sudden mention of extra expenses.
Chewbacca shook his head in silent laughter and followed with Artoo and Threepio closely behind him.
A/N: Well, dear readers, we have a bit of interesting news for you all. We've decided it would be in everyone's best interest if we sat down and just wrote out all the chapters leading up to Anakin waking up. Because Anakin is, no matter how you slice it, the center of this tale. So the bad news: No more updates until around Thanksgiving. And the good news: You'll get three, four, maybe five updates within the span of a week. Which isn't such a bad thing.
But we will not disappear off the face of the Earth for a month. Questions, comments, and suggestions will be read and taken into consideration. If we get a lot we may start answering them! Hint, hint... (boy am I subtle or what?)
So until then, dear readers!
JediSkye, of the Insanity Awareness Bureau