InsaneJournal

Who: Seven of Nine and Darth Vader
Where: Med Lab
When: Later that evening
What: Vader wakes up.
Rating: We'll say high just because there may be mentions of violence.
Status: Ongoing | Closed



Blackness. There was nothing but blackness, just silence, and nothing, save but a tiny sound that was inaudible at first, but slowly began to grow. Creeping into the nothingness, the sound came from a long distance away, but seemed to get closer, and closer, then it began to make sense. It sounded almost as if it were coming from under water, muffled, but there were voices, definitely voices. Then there was a beeping, a comfortable beeping that echoed but didn't disrupt. Then finally light. Light pierced the blackness, a thin line forming in the center of the blackness and slowly working its way open, further and further, a tear in the current reality. And a moment later the light streamed in, replacing blackness, and the man began to realize he was... waking up.

It was slow at first, the realization, but it did come eventually. He was alive. When his eyes began to focus, he noted the glass in front of him. He heard his deep, labored, assisted breathing. The mask was back on, it was functioning. Then there was that familiarity, the Force, he almost had to reach for it as if it'd left him, but it felt alien, distant, wrong. Ah, the Light. It edged around the edges of the Dark Side, but both filled him, like taking a first breath, and everything began to flood back into his mind. The Emperor, Luke, the Death Star was exploding around him. He'd just saved his son. He was dying.

He heard more beeping, the computers were telling people he was waking up. There were others around, most not paying attention to him; yet there was one nearby. There were many more presences, he could sense them, distant, but all in the same vicinity. Light, confusion, anger, pain, fear, it was all there, in so many different people. There were Jedi, and there were others. How could there be Jedi? He felt out for Luke, stretched into his feelings for him, he felt something familiar to Luke, but it was brighter, stronger, more fierce, older. Odd.

Knowing he'd soon be descended upon by someone, he checked himself. Lifting his hand, he noted it was missing still. No pain though, really. He stared at the mess of wires where his stump was, where his hand used to be, and he flashed back to the battle. Luke cutting it off, so close to succumbing to the Dark Side. Then overcoming it, stronger than Anakin ever had been, stronger than Vader was. The large male then began to sit up. He wasn't restrained? He should have been. Was he 'rescued' by the Empire? No. This was different, the protocol would have been different.

Finally Vader sat up fully, looking around him at the equipment and instruments around him. This was not anything he was familiar with. He looked to his other hand, still there. He clenched it into a fist. He looked at the monitoring equipment around him. He glared from beneath the helmet, the Force with him.

He should have been dead.

"What is the meaning of this?" He offered to anyone who would listen, but no one in particular, "Where am I? I demand answers."

The anger stirred within him. That darkness, he'd felt it dissipate in the presence of Luke, when he destroyed the Emperor, but it was still there; clawing, tearing, biting at him. It wouldn't leave without a fight. He wanted to grasp onto that anger, it was the only emotion he'd ever known besides hate. No lightsaber, without a hand, these people thought they could hold Darth Vader?

And then he began to stand, his brain feeling woozy, but the Force was working quickly to refocus him. He'd not be out for long.

...He should have been dead.