Pax Blank - Into the Storm

Strong arms caught him then lifted him from the floor as if he were a child, the action lighting a trail of fire down his spine, though in that moment he was past caring. Everything churned in his hazy vision, no up, no down, waves of awareness between blank, black voids. Voices raised in concern, though he couldn't seem to process the words, nothing reaching through the thick, dull haze which enveloped him and pressed down, stealing any thought save that of simply breathing, and even that faltering. All sound reduced to a single tone which sang in his head as his pounding heart shook his whole body with every labored beat. Too hard to breathe now, too hard to try, the exertion of lifting his chest unthinkable.

Each gasp came a little shallower until he could do nothing but descend into the still, crimson-tinged darkness, unwilling to fight anymore.

.

.

Hallin leaned in to support the man's head as Vader lowered him onto the scanner-bed, adrenaline forcing the medic wide awake as medi-droids closed in, activating readout fields so that the information began to appear as a streaming display at the end of the bed. He glanced up, all business, checking the readouts as he took the offered IV from the droid to insert the needle.

Lord Vader ignored him completely, his hand resting on the unconscious man's chest.

Hallin turned back to the medical readouts as a warning sounded. "He's going into shock."

The IV feed filled with fluid and Luke's eyelids fluttered momentarily--

" NO!" Vader reached out and folded the tube closed. "Take it out!"

Hallin physically jumped at the ferocity of his outburst. "What?"

"Take it out. No drugs--it will interfere with his connection to the Force."

Hallin's eyes widened as he shrank back, but afraid as he was, some basic commitment cut in and he spoke out against Vader. "He...the surgery, My Lord; he shouldn't have moved, he's going into shock. His condition is very serious..."

As if to back him up, the medi-bay began again to sound its low alarm tone. Hallin glanced back at the display, then at Lord Vader's gloved hand still holding the IV tube folded, and spoke the hard truth. "His blood pressure's dropping dangerously low. The drugs will stabilize him until his body can...."

"No. He is a Jedi. He will drop into a trance, heal himself...if you don't interfere."

Hallin frowned; he was a medical man and simply didn't have time for this--

"Do as I say," Vader rumbled, the threat evident in his tone.

Hallin hesitated; as far as he was concerned, the Force was a myth, an entertainment for those too gullible to see the truth. He knew, of course, what people who were close to them said of Lord Vader and of the Emperor, but he had seen nothing in the two months that he'd been on Lord Vader's staff to merit any re-evaluation of his own beliefs. But he was a military medic and Lord Vader's subordinate. If Vader wished to test some theory, then it was within his rights to do so--certainly nobody here was about to stop him.

So why did Hallin remain frozen in place?

The medical alarm rose a pitch, demanding resolution. Wasn't this Vader's son ? Why would he risk this? How could he?

That black mask turned on him, the voice from within broaching no argument. "Take it out."

"Of course," Hallin finally acknowledged, his voice flat, laced with defeat. "You understand...he will go deeper into shock, probably cardiac arrest without some form of intervention to stabilize him..."

As he spoke he slid out the IV, keeping his eyes on the readouts, awaiting the inevitable.

Vader didn't turn, didn't look to the display at all. He simply stared at the failing man.

They didn't have to wait long... The scanner changed to a constant tone and readouts began to flash red.

"He's gone below prescribed levels..." Hallin said flatly, his own heart beating fast in his chest. It was against everything he'd been taught, everything he'd ever believed, to stand by and simply watch when he could so easily prevent this.

"...His heart's going into fibrillation..." Seconds away now...

Vader's voice was low and quiet, barely a whisper, but Hallin heard it anyway, the raw emotion hidden by the mask all too audible in the hoarse words which drew Hallin's eyes to Lord Vader as he hissed down at the dying man, " Fight!"

Still the scanners registered the failing vital signs of the youth, and Hallin felt his own head shake as he looked back to the man. Unable to help himself, he reached out his hand to place it lightly on his patient's forehead, knowing it would offer no help but somehow needing, in those final moments, to offer some kind of succor.

Finally Vader relented, stepping back and turning quickly to Hallin. "Help him!"

He didn't need telling twice. Galvanized into action he stepped forward, arm out to the medi-droid. "Adrenaline--240 in a DR needle! Now!"

He stretched his hand out over the man's chest, automatically feeling for the spot between his ribs, hoping it wasn't too late, fearing it was. As he took the needle, a change in the scanner tone made him turn...

Two of the readouts had risen from critical back toward normal limits. Frowning, he stared at the display in blank confusion. How...?

A third climbed back within limits as the man's vital signs began to stabilize.

Vader reached his arm out to gently push Hallin back from the patient, whose irregular breathing was beginning to even. The medic frowned, speechless as he looked down to the man on the bed, whose blue lips were beginning to redden, color returning to waxen skin.

What the hell was happening?

It took less than a minute for the readouts to stabilize--not even nearly to normal; the man remained in a serious condition--but to climb from critical. To step back, quite miraculously, from the edge.

Some signs remained incredibly elevated though--brain activity and oxygen levels were exceptionally high...

Was this.... Hallin hardly dare even consider it.

Lord Vader turned to him, bass voice perfectly even now, distant and emotionless. "Learn and adapt, if you are to serve him. He is a Jedi...all previous knowledge and boundaries are gone. You were right to contact me, however. Do so earlier, next time."

With that he turned and left. Hallin watched him, a dark silhouette against the bright light of the corridor beyond. Then he was left alone, to look back down in mute wonderment at the Jedi.

.

.

.

.

.

Luke was woken from a fitful, disturbed sleep by the realization of who was near.

He'd spent the night in a detention cell, pretty much dragged there by Vader when he'd made his third attempt to leave the medi-center only a day after the first.

By the time Vader had arrived he'd already been forced to stop, stormtroopers ahead of and behind him, but this time he'd gotten much further into the ship. Still slow and breathless, still frail, but awake this time; aware enough to find his bearings, clarify where exactly he was in relation to where he needed to get to...and more importantly, how to get there. Next time.

Vader had arrived seething, simply striding up to Luke as he had leaned weakly against the wall for support, grabbing him by the arm, turning him about and dragging him down the corridor. Luke hadn't even had the strength left to fight; to shout out or struggle as he was half-dragged, half-marched through the Destroyer, Vader's grip unyielding, the sound of many stormtroopers' boots behind them. All of his energy had gone into simply staying upright.

Still in medi-center whites, feet bare, he had been deposited--practically thrown--into an empty cell whose roof curved down to the floor in a concave dome, and whose only notable feature was a huge, thick pillar in the centre of the room. Half-collapsing in exhaustion at the forced march, vision tunneling, chest heaving, he'd been only vaguely aware of the techs who had gathered about him as he'd collapsed against the pillar, struggling to find the strength to stand again.