1st place: Star Wars Fanfiction Awards
Luke Skywalker is turning 8 in just a few days on Empire Day. Unfortunately, the Empire has ordered a galaxy-wide census on Empire Day. Instead of heading to the pod races, like his Uncle Owen had promised him...
Within an hour, Anakin Skywalker lay on the operating table once again with Master Yoda maintaining his Jedi trance. The Bacta treatments had healed much of his head, but his hair follicles were dead forever.
The gaping wounds had sealed to puffy red scars. The only scar that had not healed was the vertical slice above and below his right eye. The doctor expected slight scars to remain from the other wounds, but it would take a few more days for the healing to finish.
Stormtroopers guarded the entrances to the room. They stood their ground when rushing footsteps headed toward them. They retracted their blasters drawn when Lord Vader's apprentice appeared.
The boy panted as other stormtroopers chased him down the corridor.
Stormtrooper Commander 2224 ordered the other squad, "Stand down. Lord Vader has an interest in this boy."
"The Emperor has ordered the boy be taken into custody."
"Orders have been changed by Lord Vader himself." The commander grabbed the young boy, shoving Luke behind his armored body. "We have the situation handled. Report back to the Executor. Captain Piett needs you there."
The other squad leader paused for a moment. "Yes, Commander." He turned and exited the medical center, wondering whom the other squad was protecting in the operating theater.
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Anakin's eyes popped open in the operating theater. He felt like he was being awakened by mortar fire during the Clone War battles on the front lines. He sat up and swiveled, lowering his new legs to the ground.
He discovered he had two arms now, arms with Synthaskin covering the metal cybernetics. They were not as heavy as his old prosthetics. He lifted them and clenched his fists in and out, testing them.
The medical droid approached, poking him with an electronic probe on each fingertip. Each finger curled in response to the stimulation.
Padmé crossed to him, taking his right hand in hers.
He lifted his left hand and touched her face, feeling the smoothness and contour of his wife. He lifted his head, noticing Luke outside the room staring through the glass wall. Stormtroopers surrounded the boy, hiding and protecting him with their armor.
Anakin pulled his arms down and lifted himself from the table, straightening his legs slowly. He took one stiff step, not bending his knees, and then another. By the fifth step, he bent his knee, but then fell to the floor. He had not straightened the leg properly before lifting the other.
Padmé and the med techs rushed to him.
He pushed them away. "I can do this on my own. Balance is tricky the first time, as I recall."
