Empire Day ✓

Chapter 24 - Lieutenants, Captains, and Commanders

The first thing Anakin realized was that he did not hear his breathing regulator. He opened his eyes, confused. He looked with his own eyes and not through the red lenses of his mask.

He had expected to see the inside of his meditation chamber aboard the Executor. Instead he faced a glass wall.

Pain stabbed his chest—pain that could not be ignored. However, Anakin was accustomed to pain. It was a constant part of his life.

Skywalker inspected the pressure on his side. Curly, chestnut hair spread out on the blanket. One graceful hand clutched his arm. The other draped across his body.

Anakin closed his eyes and imagined he could reach out and run his hands through her curls. He even felt the phantom movement in his stump. He reached out with the Force and stroked his wife's hair, running Force fingers through it.

She gazed at him with her brown eyes circled in black, the irises bloodshot. "Ani!"

Her voice was enough to wake up Obi-Wan, who had fallen asleep in his chair in the corner. "Anakin."

Neither of them could get a word in before the medical droid entered and pushed them out of the way as it examined the patient. It was the middle of the space station's night, so at least no one was floating through the corridors during this rather thorough examination.

Three-Bee placed a device against Anakin's chest. "Inhale and hold. Exhale on a five count. Five, four, three, two, one. Again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Excellent. Meal service will begin in thirty minutes. What is your preference?"

He looked at the droid, not sure that his hearing was functioning correctly. "Meal service? You mean real food?" He was shocked to hear his scratchy baritone voice after so many years of hearing it through the bassy tones of the vocalizer.

He had not eaten real food in eight years, as his suit had provided his water and the protein sludge that passed as food on Imperial vessels. After years in the suit, he had finally gotten used to never chewing his food. He only wished he never had to taste that vile sludge again.

The droid provided a menu on its screen. "Choose one."

Protein sludge might be better than these choices. "Any chance I can get a nerf steak?"

"Negative. Broth, mashed tubers, and greens. Choose your flavor of broth."

Anakin could not make up his mind because they all sounded just as bad. He closed his eyes and chose something randomly.

When the medical droid had left, Padmé and Obi-Wan helped Anakin back into his medical gown. 

"How do you feel?"  She adjusted his sleeve, her face full of concern.

Anakin closed his eyes so that he could concentrate on his full senses. "It hurts, but not the burning I used to feel. It also itches."

Obi-Wan grinned. "That's the Bacta in your lungs. It means you're healing."

Anakin smiled back at his old master, and then he looked at Padmé. "What's wrong? Did the surgery not work? You two look like you've seen a ghost."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips together before answering. "In a way, we are."

Padmé grabbed his arm stump. "We lost you, Ani, during the surgery."

He felt tears land on his arm. He smiled and shook his head. "It will take more than that to keep me down, Angel."