Chapter 23

When Obi-Wan regained consciousness - he felt strange. His head felt like it was wrapped in cotton and in general he felt detached from his own body.

Groaning, he tried to turn his head a little to relieve his aching neck - only to find that something was holding him down. Now on high alert, he tried to move his arms, but immediately met resistance there as well.

He couldn't move an inch.

Obi-Wan stared into the black, trying to calm himself. What else had Palpatine said? He was still useful for science?

Nothing of that bode anything good. He focused again on his own body. He had been laid on his side, legs slightly bent and arms stretched out, presumably fixed to the edge of the bed on which he lay. The pain - it was mostly gone. His leg still burned a little where the blaster shot had hit him, but it was no longer the sharp sting of a fresh wound. His hip also felt somewhat normal again as far as he could tell with the drugs that were probably flowing through his veins. The lingering sense of sickness had been replaced with an extreme fatigue which he now constantly fought with.

Now that he concentrated on it, he tasted remnants of Bacta on his tongue.

Why did they heal me?

„I see subject Thirteen is awake," suddenly rumbled a tinny voice, making Obi-Wan flick his eyes in the general direction of the noise.

„What?", he croaked confused, again straining against his bonds. The typical whirring of a meddroid got louder.

"The patient should not move so that the surgical site is not disturbed."

Obi-Wan's mind was sent reeling. "Surgery site...?" he asked in alarm, "Where am I? What are you talking about?"

"I am not allowed to answer these questions," the droid replied, positioning itself somewhere above him, "It is suggested that the patient calm down. Otherwise, sedation will have to be performed."

His heart was pounding up to his throat. "Okay...," he finally breathed, "I... I am calm."

Fortunately for him, the droid seemed to buy his desperate lie. "What am I doing here?" he dared to ask again.

He heard a device activate, followed shortly by a beeping sound which by now he could attribute to a scanner. "Blaster shot wound sufficiently healed by Bacta, scarring present but not restrictive to patient... pelvis fractures successfully stabilized," the droid rambled, completely ignoring Obi-Wan's question, "... incersion at L2 still healing, continuing immobilization of patient recommended."

L2? Obi-Wan wasn't good with medical terms, but during the war he had picked up enough from the doctors to know that the droid was talking about one of his lumbar vertebrae.

Again, panic rose in him. "... my legs feel numb," he tried, hoping that this time the droid would respond to him.

The droid continued to hover over him, obviously calculating. "Patient claims loss of sensation...proceed with testing."

Before Obi-Wan could react, a sharp needle was unceremoniously plunged into the sole of his foot. He tried to pull his legs away as he cried out in pain but the restraints held him firmly.

"Lie detected... continue with sedation."

"No, no, wait- ," Obi-Wan continued, but the droid again ignored him completely and a moment later he felt the hot burn in the crook of his elbow as the drug made its way into his veins.

His world again turned into nothingness.

When he woke up again, it was to the sensation of someone fiddling with bandages that wrapped around his lower back. Something held his back in an elevated position, assumably another nurse droid.

"Thirteen is awake," droned the computer-generated voice and Obi-Wan inwardly cursed himself for being so transparent.

"Who are the other twelve?" he asked instead, decisively trying to figure something out.

"The subject is required to be silent; they will speak only when asked."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, but did not initially resist the instruction. A moment later, the restraints holding him were released.

"Stand up."

Breathing through his nose, Obi-Wan complied again and sat up carefully, noting the painful twinge in his back. His hand tried to move to his back, but was stopped by a metallic gripper. "Do not touch," the droid ordered leaving no room for negotiation.

Obi-Wan nodded and released his hand, allowing the droid to finally let go. As the metallic fingers fell away, he lowered his hand to the mattress to brace himself. Slowly and deliberately, he then swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cold floor tiles under his bare soles.

His back acted up even more as he finally stood up and it felt like he met some kind of resistance as he tried to straighten his back. The force-suppressing collar still pressed uncomfortably against his neck, but he resisted the urge to try to pull at it.

He had no idea where he was, what they wanted him to do, or what they had done to him.

Apparently a now normal day in my life.

A shiver traveled done his spine, as the chilly air in the room began to bite at his skin. They had taken most of his clothes, leaving him only in a pair of short-legged pants. And if Obi-Wan had to take a guess - they probably had no intention of giving them back to him.

Obi-Wan stood still for now, carefully listening to what was going on around him.

"Subject Thirteen will be transferred to test chamber 3."

What kind of tests?

A moment later he was thrust forward with the end of a blaster in his back. Calculatedly, he started moving, careful not to trip over his own feet.

The ground beneath his feet was cold, metallic. His footsteps echoed dully off the walls around him. They were probably somewhere underground.

Another jab in his back made him stumble as they suddenly turned sharply left. Obi-Wan snarled, trying to stomp down the frustration that began to settle inside him.

They marched him forward until they suddenly came to a stop and pushed him into a room somewhere to his right. The meddroid began to move past him and began to search for something judging by the metallic scraping noice it made while searching tables and cabinets.

In his mind, Obi-Wan went through the information he had been able to gather so far. He didn't know where he was, but most likely on a planet in an underground facility. In addition, there were probably several subjects being held here. This was some kind of experimental laboratory. They had healed him but didn't give him access to the Force and also implanted something into his spine which he didn't know the purpose of.

I'm not getting out of here like this.

The droid had obviously found what it was looking for and approached him again. "Keep your head still."

Shortly thereafter something was placed over his head, making him notice only now that his hair must have been reduced to nothing more but a buzz cut. The thing the droid hefted to his head had some kind of metal pins so he assumed that these were electrodes.

When the droid finished plucking at the device, it flew back again. "Step forward into the test chamber."

Obi-Wan swallowed and stopped in his tracks. "What kind of test is this?" he asked calmly.

"Step forward into the test chamber," the droid droned again emotionlessly, only this time the barrel of a blaster between his shoulders again tried to convince him to move.

Relenting, Obi-Wan cautiously walked forward and slid his foot over a doorstep.

This room felt even colder and he absently rubbed his arms to regain some warmth.

Behind him the door closed with a hiss, sealing him in for whatever test they had planned for him.

A voicebox activated with a crackling sound. "Fight," was all that a modulated, yet unmistakably feminine voice said before a dead silence settled on the room again.

The hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck stood up. Fight against what?

Without the Force, it was almost impossible to tell if he was alone in this room and what he was up against.

He had only his ears to rely on. He bent his knees slightly, getting into a fighting stance.

A sharp whistle to his left had him whirling around just in time to catch the knife that was supposed to bury itself deep into his back. The arm holding it was strong as he wrestled with it. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his attacker back, again getting some distance between them.

"We don't have to do this," he panted, defensively holding one arm in front of him, "... we can work this out."

"There's nothing to work out," a desperate female voice responded. She snorted and huffed a laugh. "They told me they'd let me and my son go as soon as they got enough test results from a Jedi...and the only thing they got is you. A fucking broken, invalid Jedi. An outcast."

She spat out. "We've been waiting so long...," she rasped, "And I'll do anything to make sure they get what they want. You will not stand in my way."

Again she lunged at him and Obi-Wan found himself on the floor moments later as she jumped at him, knife mere centimeters from his face. "You really think they let you go if you help them?" he gritted out while fending off the knife, "They always want more. It's a vicious cycle."

The woman roared and pulled the knife back, only to stab it at him again. This time she got a hit in. The blade sunk into the flash of his forearm and Obi-Wan yanked his arm back on reflex with a pained cry, dislodging the woman from her position with a well-aimed kick to her chest.

The weapon was still stuck in his arm as he got back to his feet and he wasted no time to pull it out. His other hand came away sticky with blood and he already felt how his injured arm began to tremble. He was loosing a lot of blood, fast.

Holding the bloody knife in his left hand while pressing his injured arm to his chest, he again tried to reason with the woman. "I don't want to fight you," he drawled, "And you also don't have to fight me."

"They have my son," she pleaded, "You have no idea what they do here."

Obi-Wan increasingly wondered if he really had the strength to stand up to a desperate mother.