[OOC: OOC Thread.]
Sernpidal
Verena Falkenrath was not built for manual labor. She was of gentle strength and gentler soul, but it was her soul that had her out in the streets, regardless of her strength. After the strange creatures had ravaged the spaceport and surrounding buildings, there were many civilians roaming the ruins and alleyways, searching for survivors - some because they had kin or friends in those areas, but others, like Verena, because of a deep compassion for those who suffered.
She stared mournfully at the collapsed structures near the spaceport. Normally, she was a bright person; she and optimism went together like Jedi and the Force. Everyone who spent any time with her left having a better day than they had when they arrived. But today, two days after the attack on the spaceport, she could not be her normal, chipper self. So much pain - so much suffering; it rolled off the people around her like the relentless waves of some great sea, and she, like the shores of so many oceans on so many worlds, was powerless to stop it.
"Verena!" a familiar voice called to her. She turned and saw one of her fellow searchers, Dan Voss, approaching her. They had known each other for years, and he had always cared about her; she had never been oblivious to that fact, but for her, he was nothing more than a dear friend. She had been very vocal on that point: she had no intention of pursuing a relationship with him, no matter how badly he wanted it. When he got close enough that he no longer had to shout to be heard, he continued, "We've found another couple of collapsed buildings. The authorities claim that they were fully evacuated at the beginning of the creature attack, but Kern said he thought he heard someone in the rubble. You're the closest we've got to a nurse right now, so we thought you should be there if we find anyone."
"Absolutely," Verena replied, "Lead me to them."
Dan took off at a trot and she followed, feeling her side for her bag of medications. She was an ersatz healer in her neighborhood; she lived in a very private community, and they preferred to be examined by one of their own before going to government-run hospitals. She had little knowledge of severe diseases or dangerous ailments, but she was well-versed in caring for common injuries - bumps, bruises, cuts, and the like - and she had also seen her fair share of breaks and sprains. The sort of triage medical treatment she had been encountering over the past several days was entirely new to her, but she was taking to it well.
The buildings in question were little more than piles of rubble anymore. She was no expert in whatever field examined crumbled buildings for a living, but judging by the way the rubble had settled, she suspected that one building had been leaning on the other. To her, that increased the chances that someone had been inside when they collapsed - perhaps the creatures had already left and someone who lived here had returned home, thinking that the structures would be safe enough for a time, but were sadly mistaken. She rushed past Dan into the rubbled remains, looking for other searchers in the hopes that they had found someone.
She found Kern first. He was standing over a body that had been brutally crushed under the ferrocrete. It had been a human male, dressed in all black cloth. She closed her eyes in sorrow at the sight; she had hoped for survivors.
"There's nothing you could have done," Kern said, "I don't think there's any way he could have survived the collapse, not if this landed on him then. Even if we had been here two days ago, we would have been too late." Verena nodded, but did not seem to perk up at all. "We found two others, about the same condition as this one. It's odd - they're all dressed the same, like it's a uniform or something."
"Too simplistic for a uniform," Dan said as he caught up to them, "Besides, Sith don't wear uniforms."
"Sith?" Verena echoed as she turned to her friend. "What makes you say that? Just because they're all dressed in black garments? That's not a crime."
Dan shrugged a little. "Maybe not," he said, "but that, combined with an item we found on one of them, serves as proof to me."
Verena frowned at him. "What item?"
Dan nodded his head at the other man. "Kern has it."
Kern sighed and produced the object - a metal cylinder, about eight inches long, sporting several designs and one very prominent button. He let Verena look at it for a few moments before he pulled it away from her. "It's a lightsaber. We activated it - it has a red blade. Only Sith use red blades - everybody says."
Dan agreed, "And I was talking to Louisa, one of the helpers from the city. She says that she saw a Sith and two Jedi fighting out in the street the day of the attack. She reported it, but you know the authorities - they're too concerned with calming the population to announce information like that. They don't want to admit that the Sith could be behind the whole attack."
Verena's frown did not disappear. "Well, I don't care about that," she said, "Evil or not, they're people, too. And if you find one alive, we're going to help them. Understand?" She looked between Kern and Dan, each of whom nodded slowly. "Alright," she said with a decisive nod, "Now let's keep looking."
"Verena!" a new voice shouted; Verena recognized it as her darling friend, the fourth and last person to come from their small community, Wendy Alduino. "Glad you're here! Come quick! There's one alive over here!"
Verena followed without hesitation. It did not take long to reach the place Wendy had found the man in question. Verena saw what had saved him immediately: in the collapse of the building, he had been cocooned in a large piece of rubble from some corner in the building, and it shielded him from most of the ferrocrete chunks falling from above. It even allowed him a short supply of air - but Verena suspected that had run out, since the man was unconscious.
She peered through the rubble at him; not all of the debris had been cleared away, so she could barely see more than his head. His hair was ashen, but Verena suspected that the color had been affected by the vast quantities of dust in the air. He had a hard look about him, like he was a man who had survived a lot of war and hardship. But she also noticed his clothes - he was dressed nothing like the others. He sported an armored jumpsuit, covered with energy clips and utility pouches on his chest and belt.
Dan noticed his clothing, too. "He's not dressed like them," he said, "But that doesn't mean he isn't one of them. He might have been undercover. He looks like a mercenary - maybe they even hired him to release the beasts, or something."
"I told you, I don't care," Verena said, "He took a pretty bad hit on the head when this building collapsed, but he's lucky to be alive - so I'm going to do everything in my power to keep him that way. Get it?" Dan simply nodded, not pleased, but not about to deny her.
That was, until the man coughed.
"He's conscious?" Dan demanded, then moved forward to check. Seeing the man moving, he shouted at him, "Who are you? Why did you destroy our spaceport? What do you have against us?"
Wendy grabbed Dan by the shoulders and dragged him away from the scene. "Hey!" she shouted at him, "Let Verena get a look at him. You can ask him questions when he'll survive the asking."
Verena leaned in to speak to the man. "Hey," she said, "You're alright. You're safe now." He seemed distressed; he grunted as he tried to move. Verena reached past the rubble and held him down. "No, no," she said, "Don't move. I need to find out how badly hurt you are first. Can you talk?"
His blue eyes focused on her. After a few moments, he spoke. His voice was hoarse and gravelly from dehydration, but it was audible. "Yes."
"Can you tell me your name?" she asked. His eyes went out of focus again and his head lolled a moment. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey!" she said, "Stay with me." He looked at her again, and she repeated, "Can you tell me your name?"
He frowned. He took a deep breath, as if about to say something, then let it out again.
"What's your name?" Verena asked again.
At long last, he answered her, "I don't know."
The Nightingale and the Rose
Moderators: VagueDurin, Nichalus
Centurio
Centurio
Re: The Nightingale and the Rose
Darkness.
Swimming - drowning. He could not breathe. But he was not drowning. The air was there - but it did not satisfy.
Pain. Throbbing - pulsating in his skull. Searing in his leg. He could not feel his toes.
Noise. Motion. Light. Air!
He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. There were people above him. They were asking him questions. Why would they ask him questions? He did not know anything. One was angry. He made accusations and said harsh things. Another was not. She was pleasant - charming - even delightful. She showed care and concern.
He answered as well as he could, but soon there was darkness again. Darkness, for a time - then a face. He did not recognize it; she was not among those between the dark. She was young - much younger than the others he had seen. Like a child, but hardened by trouble and pain. She showed care and concern, too, but he knew that he could protect her. He knew that he could - that he must. It was essential.
Then everything faded.
* * * * *
"Welcome back," a woman's voice said. He embraced the sound, like a man might embrace an old friend after years apart. "You gave us quite a scare back there," she told him.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. She was the charming one from between the dark. He was hoping for the face, the one he had seen in the dark, but he supposed she would come eventually. She would have to - they belonged together. He did not know much, but he knew that. The woman before him was smiling down at him, but his far-away look seemed to trouble her. He cast it away and returned to the moment: "I guess so," said he, "but is everything better now?" His voice was odd to himself - strong, masculine, but broken, as though he had been deprived of water for too long.
Her smile softened. Was that pity he saw in her eyes? "Not yet," she replied, "The swelling from the bump on your head is going down, but your leg was broken very badly. With some help, I was able to set it, but it will be weeks before you can walk again - and you may have a limp." He nodded. He did not have anything to say. He knew what the words meant, and he knew how they applied to his life, but he had no response to give to them - as if his emotional core were trapped away inside whatever fount of self-knowledge from which he had been denied access. So she continued: "Do you remember me?"
He nodded. "You were there... between the... when I was unconscious."
She smiled in good humor. "You mean when you woke up."
He thought for a few moments. That made sense logically; it had to have been when he was awake. But he did not feel awake. He felt as though he were trapped in some terrible nightmare, being dragged through a world of which he knew nothing, in a body about which he knew nothing - and his true self was sound asleep in some comfortable bed, wholly separate from this monstrosity of experience. But he agreed anyway: "Yes - when I woke up."
Seeing that he was parched, she stood and retrieved a glass of water from a nearby table, bringing it to him. "Do you remember what I asked you?" she queried.
He nodded again. "You asked me my name."
"Do you remember what you said?"
Another nod. "That I didn't know."
"Do you know now?"
A shake. "But would you tell me yours?" he asked suddenly, as if raised from some dreadful subject of thought. "I don't remember you saying it before."
"No," said she, "you fell asleep again too quickly for me to tell you my name. It's Verena - Verena Falkenrath."
He nodded, even managing a little smile. "I like that name."
Verena smiled. "Well, thank you!" she rejoined, "But we need to find a good name for you, so long as you can't remember your own." He nodded. She thought for a few moments, looking very pensive, as though the task were worthy of some much greater creature. At long last, she suggested, "Why don't we call you Perry? Perry Madoc. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
He nodded yet again, smiling wider. "It's a good name," he said, "And now it's mine. I'm Perry." She nodded with a grin. "And you're Verena."
"That's right!" she answered.
"Who's he?"
As Verena turned to look, Dan came barging into the room, carrying a satchel. Kern was a few feet behind the other man, but was moving with more calm and serenity. Kern leaned against the wall as Dan leaned down next to Perry. "I'm Dan Voss - did you remember your name?"
"I gave it to him," Verena announced, drawing a dangerous glance from Dan. She looked at him in innocence and defiance; as far as she was concerned, he had no standing in her makeshift hospital.
Perry saw the glint in Dan's eyes, and he added another thing to the list of what he knew: Dan Voss was not to be trusted. Something about the man roared danger into Perry's mind; things would not end well if he and Verena trusted Dan. Perry felt his face darken with the thought; somehow, he knew that he could stop Dan from being dangerous - but he was injured, and he had no weapons, and it felt wrong to hurt Dan because he might cause harm to Verena. So he stayed silent, and merely let his face darken in response.
Dan returned his attenion to the scowling Perry. "I need to you look at a few things for me," he said, his voice not as soft as his words, "I need you to tell me which is yours." He unrolled the satchel, revealing six cylinders of comparable size and decoration - all were metallic, and all had a single button. They were lightsabers; Perry knew that, but how he knew it was beyond his grasp. He looked at them for a few moments. "Well?" Dan demanded.
Perry glanced up at the other man. "Can I touch them?" he asked. "I don't remember anything from looking at them, but I thought I might if I touched them."
"Yes," said Verena.
"No!" shouted Dan before she had even finished the word. He turned his dangerous gaze on Verena again, drawing a frown out of Perry. "If he's faking this whole amnesia nonsense just to get his weapon back so he can kill us all, I'm not going to let it happen!"
"If that's what he wanted," Verena retorted, "he could have just taken his lightsaber and killed you with it! He asked you! Let him touch them! If it helps him remember, all the better."
Perry started to reach for one of the cylinders when Dan stood up and took the satchel with him. "Maybe he wanted us to let our guards down! Well, I won't have it!"
Perry suddenly felt the throbbing return. As the shouting continued, he felt it fade from his realm of experience. His head hurt terribly and darkness crept in at the edges of his sight. He shut his eyes, hoping that it would somehow stem the flow of torturous pain.
Then he saw the face again. He saw more detail this time - blonde hair, shortish, but raggedy, as though it had been a few weeks too long since it was last washed; blue eyes, sweet and calm, inspite of the hardship that wrinkled her brow.
"Get out of my hospital!" Verena shouted, cutting off the flow of pain and snapping Perry from his reverie. "And don't come back with your cruel accusations unless you have some proof!" As Dan stalked out of the room and Kern followed, ever in silence, Verena turned her attention back to her patient. "I'm sorry about that, Perry - they're just worried about the trouble we're all going through here on Sernpidal after those creatures attacked. Do you remember the creatures?"
Perry shook his head and sighed. He had wanted to find out about the girl whose face he saw - now he was tired. He said as much, and Verena nodded, leaving to give him some peace and quiet. In the little white room, dimly lit and with sound dampened, he fell into a deep and proper sleep, in which he did not dream a mote, save for the girl's face.
Swimming - drowning. He could not breathe. But he was not drowning. The air was there - but it did not satisfy.
Pain. Throbbing - pulsating in his skull. Searing in his leg. He could not feel his toes.
Noise. Motion. Light. Air!
He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. There were people above him. They were asking him questions. Why would they ask him questions? He did not know anything. One was angry. He made accusations and said harsh things. Another was not. She was pleasant - charming - even delightful. She showed care and concern.
He answered as well as he could, but soon there was darkness again. Darkness, for a time - then a face. He did not recognize it; she was not among those between the dark. She was young - much younger than the others he had seen. Like a child, but hardened by trouble and pain. She showed care and concern, too, but he knew that he could protect her. He knew that he could - that he must. It was essential.
Then everything faded.
* * * * *
"Welcome back," a woman's voice said. He embraced the sound, like a man might embrace an old friend after years apart. "You gave us quite a scare back there," she told him.
He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her. She was the charming one from between the dark. He was hoping for the face, the one he had seen in the dark, but he supposed she would come eventually. She would have to - they belonged together. He did not know much, but he knew that. The woman before him was smiling down at him, but his far-away look seemed to trouble her. He cast it away and returned to the moment: "I guess so," said he, "but is everything better now?" His voice was odd to himself - strong, masculine, but broken, as though he had been deprived of water for too long.
Her smile softened. Was that pity he saw in her eyes? "Not yet," she replied, "The swelling from the bump on your head is going down, but your leg was broken very badly. With some help, I was able to set it, but it will be weeks before you can walk again - and you may have a limp." He nodded. He did not have anything to say. He knew what the words meant, and he knew how they applied to his life, but he had no response to give to them - as if his emotional core were trapped away inside whatever fount of self-knowledge from which he had been denied access. So she continued: "Do you remember me?"
He nodded. "You were there... between the... when I was unconscious."
She smiled in good humor. "You mean when you woke up."
He thought for a few moments. That made sense logically; it had to have been when he was awake. But he did not feel awake. He felt as though he were trapped in some terrible nightmare, being dragged through a world of which he knew nothing, in a body about which he knew nothing - and his true self was sound asleep in some comfortable bed, wholly separate from this monstrosity of experience. But he agreed anyway: "Yes - when I woke up."
Seeing that he was parched, she stood and retrieved a glass of water from a nearby table, bringing it to him. "Do you remember what I asked you?" she queried.
He nodded again. "You asked me my name."
"Do you remember what you said?"
Another nod. "That I didn't know."
"Do you know now?"
A shake. "But would you tell me yours?" he asked suddenly, as if raised from some dreadful subject of thought. "I don't remember you saying it before."
"No," said she, "you fell asleep again too quickly for me to tell you my name. It's Verena - Verena Falkenrath."
He nodded, even managing a little smile. "I like that name."
Verena smiled. "Well, thank you!" she rejoined, "But we need to find a good name for you, so long as you can't remember your own." He nodded. She thought for a few moments, looking very pensive, as though the task were worthy of some much greater creature. At long last, she suggested, "Why don't we call you Perry? Perry Madoc. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
He nodded yet again, smiling wider. "It's a good name," he said, "And now it's mine. I'm Perry." She nodded with a grin. "And you're Verena."
"That's right!" she answered.
"Who's he?"
As Verena turned to look, Dan came barging into the room, carrying a satchel. Kern was a few feet behind the other man, but was moving with more calm and serenity. Kern leaned against the wall as Dan leaned down next to Perry. "I'm Dan Voss - did you remember your name?"
"I gave it to him," Verena announced, drawing a dangerous glance from Dan. She looked at him in innocence and defiance; as far as she was concerned, he had no standing in her makeshift hospital.
Perry saw the glint in Dan's eyes, and he added another thing to the list of what he knew: Dan Voss was not to be trusted. Something about the man roared danger into Perry's mind; things would not end well if he and Verena trusted Dan. Perry felt his face darken with the thought; somehow, he knew that he could stop Dan from being dangerous - but he was injured, and he had no weapons, and it felt wrong to hurt Dan because he might cause harm to Verena. So he stayed silent, and merely let his face darken in response.
Dan returned his attenion to the scowling Perry. "I need to you look at a few things for me," he said, his voice not as soft as his words, "I need you to tell me which is yours." He unrolled the satchel, revealing six cylinders of comparable size and decoration - all were metallic, and all had a single button. They were lightsabers; Perry knew that, but how he knew it was beyond his grasp. He looked at them for a few moments. "Well?" Dan demanded.
Perry glanced up at the other man. "Can I touch them?" he asked. "I don't remember anything from looking at them, but I thought I might if I touched them."
"Yes," said Verena.
"No!" shouted Dan before she had even finished the word. He turned his dangerous gaze on Verena again, drawing a frown out of Perry. "If he's faking this whole amnesia nonsense just to get his weapon back so he can kill us all, I'm not going to let it happen!"
"If that's what he wanted," Verena retorted, "he could have just taken his lightsaber and killed you with it! He asked you! Let him touch them! If it helps him remember, all the better."
Perry started to reach for one of the cylinders when Dan stood up and took the satchel with him. "Maybe he wanted us to let our guards down! Well, I won't have it!"
Perry suddenly felt the throbbing return. As the shouting continued, he felt it fade from his realm of experience. His head hurt terribly and darkness crept in at the edges of his sight. He shut his eyes, hoping that it would somehow stem the flow of torturous pain.
Then he saw the face again. He saw more detail this time - blonde hair, shortish, but raggedy, as though it had been a few weeks too long since it was last washed; blue eyes, sweet and calm, inspite of the hardship that wrinkled her brow.
"Get out of my hospital!" Verena shouted, cutting off the flow of pain and snapping Perry from his reverie. "And don't come back with your cruel accusations unless you have some proof!" As Dan stalked out of the room and Kern followed, ever in silence, Verena turned her attention back to her patient. "I'm sorry about that, Perry - they're just worried about the trouble we're all going through here on Sernpidal after those creatures attacked. Do you remember the creatures?"
Perry shook his head and sighed. He had wanted to find out about the girl whose face he saw - now he was tired. He said as much, and Verena nodded, leaving to give him some peace and quiet. In the little white room, dimly lit and with sound dampened, he fell into a deep and proper sleep, in which he did not dream a mote, save for the girl's face.
Centurio
Re: The Nightingale and the Rose
"What's her name?"
The faraway look in Perry's eyes faded as he focused them on Verena. "What?" he asked, not sure that he had heard her correctly. It seemed such an odd question.
She smiled faintly as she leaned forward; she was sitting across from him, in the chair at her desk. It was the only upright chair in the entire infirmary; save for that chair and her desk, every other surface in the room was a bed. Perry suspected that it was because she was the only doctor - although nurse may have been a more accurate term - in the entire community. He had learned a little about that community since his arrival a few days earlier, but he had spent most of his time unconscious - either from weariness or medication.
"That look in your eyes," she explained, "I've seen it before. Every sweet little boy who comes through here after some foolish stunt has that look in his eyes. It's about a girl, right? Do you remember her name?"
Perry laughed a little. He supposed he was rather like a wide-eyed little boy, eyeing everything with curiosity and strangeness; but he did not realize that he was so obviously distracted by the girl from his dreams. His smile faded as he tried to think of her name. After a few moments, his brow had furrowed and he was frowning from frustration. "I can't remember it," he said angrily, "I just can't."
Verena's own little smile melted into pity. She stood and walked over to his bed, sitting at its foot. She gently felt of his broken leg, easily justifying the move to him and to herself - even if that justification was fabricated to get her closer to him. "Tell me anything you remember about her, then," she suggested. Part of her hurt to know that he so loved another without even a thought for her, but the rest of her dismissed that part as foolish. She had been a part of a rescue team that pulled him out of smoldering rubble less than a week ago; she was in no position to request, much less demand, his affection. So she pushed that foolish part down into the depths of her heart, where she hoped she could lose it among the other pains of her life.
His expression turned pensive, but it did not take him long to remember her face. It was burned into his memory - the only thing that was. "She has blonde hair," he said, "It's short, a little loose, like she's been too busy to take proper care of it for a few... for a while. Her eyes are blue, like little pools of water, but they're... sad. I think she looks very sad."
Verena's pity did not fall from her face. "Why would she be sad?" she asked, "What happened to her?"
Perry frowned and shook his head. "I don't know," he said, "But she frowns a lot. She also looks very young... like she's still a child... but she felt the same pain that old folks feel, I think: to watch everyone around you die while you're stuck in whatever hellhole you happen to wake up in every morning."
Verena frowned in turn. "Do you feel that pain, Perry?"
He shook his head. "No," he said, "But I think I used to." He laid his head back and sighed. "I'm tired now, Verena. Do we have to stretch my leg today?"
Verena smiled sweetly and replied, "No, Perry. We can take a break today. We'll exercise it more tomorrow." As Perry drifted off to sleep, Verena patted his leg gently. She stood and returned to her desk; she had nothing to do there, but she pulled out a datapad and began fiddling with it anyway. She wanted to help Perry; she wanted to help him find his girl and his memory. She wanted to save him from the hardship he suffered now.
Little did she know that she would deliver him to the hardships he suffered once, far worse than a broken leg and a bruised head.
The faraway look in Perry's eyes faded as he focused them on Verena. "What?" he asked, not sure that he had heard her correctly. It seemed such an odd question.
She smiled faintly as she leaned forward; she was sitting across from him, in the chair at her desk. It was the only upright chair in the entire infirmary; save for that chair and her desk, every other surface in the room was a bed. Perry suspected that it was because she was the only doctor - although nurse may have been a more accurate term - in the entire community. He had learned a little about that community since his arrival a few days earlier, but he had spent most of his time unconscious - either from weariness or medication.
"That look in your eyes," she explained, "I've seen it before. Every sweet little boy who comes through here after some foolish stunt has that look in his eyes. It's about a girl, right? Do you remember her name?"
Perry laughed a little. He supposed he was rather like a wide-eyed little boy, eyeing everything with curiosity and strangeness; but he did not realize that he was so obviously distracted by the girl from his dreams. His smile faded as he tried to think of her name. After a few moments, his brow had furrowed and he was frowning from frustration. "I can't remember it," he said angrily, "I just can't."
Verena's own little smile melted into pity. She stood and walked over to his bed, sitting at its foot. She gently felt of his broken leg, easily justifying the move to him and to herself - even if that justification was fabricated to get her closer to him. "Tell me anything you remember about her, then," she suggested. Part of her hurt to know that he so loved another without even a thought for her, but the rest of her dismissed that part as foolish. She had been a part of a rescue team that pulled him out of smoldering rubble less than a week ago; she was in no position to request, much less demand, his affection. So she pushed that foolish part down into the depths of her heart, where she hoped she could lose it among the other pains of her life.
His expression turned pensive, but it did not take him long to remember her face. It was burned into his memory - the only thing that was. "She has blonde hair," he said, "It's short, a little loose, like she's been too busy to take proper care of it for a few... for a while. Her eyes are blue, like little pools of water, but they're... sad. I think she looks very sad."
Verena's pity did not fall from her face. "Why would she be sad?" she asked, "What happened to her?"
Perry frowned and shook his head. "I don't know," he said, "But she frowns a lot. She also looks very young... like she's still a child... but she felt the same pain that old folks feel, I think: to watch everyone around you die while you're stuck in whatever hellhole you happen to wake up in every morning."
Verena frowned in turn. "Do you feel that pain, Perry?"
He shook his head. "No," he said, "But I think I used to." He laid his head back and sighed. "I'm tired now, Verena. Do we have to stretch my leg today?"
Verena smiled sweetly and replied, "No, Perry. We can take a break today. We'll exercise it more tomorrow." As Perry drifted off to sleep, Verena patted his leg gently. She stood and returned to her desk; she had nothing to do there, but she pulled out a datapad and began fiddling with it anyway. She wanted to help Perry; she wanted to help him find his girl and his memory. She wanted to save him from the hardship he suffered now.
Little did she know that she would deliver him to the hardships he suffered once, far worse than a broken leg and a bruised head.
Centurio
Re: The Nightingale and the Rose
Perry woke up. But things were different. This was not the hospital. It was a room. He recognized it - it was his room. He crawled out of bed and fell to the floor. Everything felt wrong - he looked at his hands and thought that they looked very small. He found his way to his feet and stumbled to the refresher, where he looked at himself in the mirror. What he saw startled him: he was just a boy! He guessed that he was about fifteen years old, but he did not know for sure.
A rumbling caught his attention. He spun in time to see a shock wave tear through his room, bearing fire and death.
* * * * *
Perry woke again, this time with a start. Verena hurried to his side and took his hand. He looked at her, his eyes filled with fear until her soothing face calmed him. "What did you see, Perry?" she asked him.
He shook his head slightly. "Fire," he replied, "and death."
Dan Voss was, as he often had been in the weeks since Perry's arrival, standing in the doorway. "Maybe that's because he was the cause of so much of that here," he said caustically.
Verena did not look at him. "I told you that you not to bother us when he's trying to recover," she said firmly.
"I'm not leaving you alone with him!" Dan yelled, his short temper once more sparked off. "He's dangerous!"
Verena did turn now. "You don't know that! He hasn't done anything wrong!" She was angry, Perry saw. Dan was not listening to her. If he had ever had a chance of a life with Verena, Perry was concerned that Dan had lost that on his account. Perry did not want to hurt these people. They had helped him. But he did not know how to fix this.
"You don't know that, either, Verena!" Dan retorted. "If he doesn't remember anything, he wouldn't know that he did it - and if he does remember, then he could be hiding his actions behind this... veneer of innocence!"
Perry looked at Verena. Dan was right. It made logical sense. Perry very well could be the villain of the entire Sernpidal attack. She should not trust him.
But as he watched her eyes twitch and her frown deepen, he knew: she did. "Get out of here, Dan. I don't want to see you in here again. Get out and stay out," she ordered. She did not let her anger control her voice, which she held even and calm. It was a matter of fact: Dan would not be allowed back in the hospital without an injury.
Dan did not look happy. But he complied. Slowly, he bowed, turned, and left the room. Verena collapsed onto the bed, as if it had taken all of her energy to speak with such harshness. Having come to know her gentleness over the past days, Perry suspected that it had. Still, he had to speak. "He could be right," Perry said, "I could be the cause of all this."
Verena glared at him. "Don't you start, too, Perry."
Perry looked apologetic. "I don't remember anything!" he replied, "And we don't know exactly what happened out there. I could be dangerous. It would be better if I were not here. I should go."
Verena slapped him. He looked at her, eyes wide, unsure of what to do. She smiled, then caressed his cheek, reddened by her palm. "That's how I know you're not dangerous, Perry," she said. "A dangerous person would have attacked me out of instinct." Perry frowned, unconvinced. Verena continued, "I think that we should see a specialist about your memory, Perry. There is a doctor I know of at Sernpidal City - he can scan your brain and figure out what is blocking you from accessing your memory."
Perry nodded. "Okay," he replied. "We'll go tomorrow?"
Verena nodded, then caressed his forehead. "Now get some rest."
* * * * *
Perry was in his room again. There had not been a fire. There had been a rumbling, but it had not been here. Perry rushed from the refresher to the window of his bedroom, from which he could see a mountain. On the far side of that mountain, he saw a huge, billowing cloud, shaped like a mushroom. He knew that people had died, but he didn't know who. But he felt something - a deep pain, twisting his gut. He remembered then that his parents had been in the capital city - of what planet, he didn't know - and more than knowing, he felt that the attacks had targeted that city, if not others. His parents, he knew, were dead.
The pain was overwhelming. He fell to the floor, writhing as death covered him, filled him. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to quell the agony. Moments passed. At last, the pain began to fade. The death was becoming a part of him. The darkness became a kernel at his center, hidden behind the force of his strength. He struggled to his feet and went downstairs. Somehow, he knew that there were weapons in the basement. And somehow, he knew that he would need them.
* * * * *
"Perry?"
Perry swam into consciousness. "Verena?"
She smiled at him. "Time to go. We have a long trip to Sernpidal City." She took him by the hand and led him, docile as a pet, outside the hospital and to a small transport. They settled inside. Kern was in the driver's seat. He looked, with some mild suspicion, at Perry, then smiled at Verena. "Ready to go, Kern," she told him.
He nodded and the vehicle began to accelerate and lift into the air. Turning the vessel toward Sernpidal City, Kern pushed the vehicle until it was at cruising speed. "It'll be about four hours," he announced.
Verena turned to Perry. "Did you have more dreams?" she asked.
He nodded. "I don't remember much. A lot of pain."
"Was it of the battle at the spaceport?" Kern asked, genuinely interested. Unlike Dan, Perry had noticed, Kern showed real care for other people, including him.
Perry shook his head. "No, it was something... older. And it was different. It wasn't physical pain. It hurt... deep." He shook his head, displeased with his choice of words. There just weren't words for what he had felt. "But I really don't remember," he added, trying to cover the inadequacy with forgetfulness.
Kern nodded, then looked back at his instruments. Verena smiled pityingly. "Was she there?"
Perry shook his head again, frowning. "No, I haven't seen her in a while. I don't know how she fits in. But I feel like this was a really long time ago. Like... maybe I was a kid," he explained. Then he sighed. His body, though it was healing quickly, still pained him. "I... I think I need some more rest," he suggested, stretching a little.
Verena nodded. "I'm sorry, Perry. I woke you up early. Get some more sleep." Perry smiled and twisted in his chair until he was not facing the nearest window, and sleep overtook him again.
* * * * *
The air was already dirtier. Perry found himself in a radiation suit, and he was glad for it. He felt his hip, where he found a blaster pistol. Across his back he felt a rifle, a little too long for his young frame. Perry looked back, seeing in the distance the hint of greenery that reminded him of the area around the house he had left. Around him, though, the land was dead. Fire and radiation had ravaged the countryside, leaving nothing alive. Whatever had happened, his world had been destroyed, and a new one - one of death, one of pain, one of suffering, one of horror.
He walked for hours. Maybe days. He did not stop. He did not eat. He did not sleep. The world, faded into a shadow of life, littered with remnants of civilization, passed under his feet as he walked, almost aimless in his direction. Eventually, he came near the capital city. He passed a sign: Quorl, Capital of Amvas II. He looked to the sky. That burning blaze must have been Amvas. This world was its second planet, he surmised, and it had once been full of life. Now it was an empty husk.
The city was getting nearer on the horizon. Very little was left standing. But deep down, Perry knew that there were underground tunnel systems; the city stretched beneath the earth half as far as above the earth. And something in his gut told him that there were survivors there. Some people that he could help. And some people that he would have to hurt.
* * * * *
"We're here." Kern's gruff voice woke Perry from his slumber. "Sernpidal City Hospital."
Perry blinked a few times. Verena smiled at him. She took his hand again, helping him out of the transport. Kern followed them out, but stayed by the hatch to the transport. Perry let go of Verena's hand as he walked, wishing to propel himself by his own power. She let him go, but looked back at him with a sweet smile; she seemed to be asking him why he did not want her to take care of him. But he knew that he did not want her to take care of him. He wanted to stand on his own. He wanted independence. It was emasculating, he thought, for her to take care of him so much. He was not an invalid anymore. He needed to be himself again. And he could not remember his name, but he knew that Perry Madoc - and whoever Perry Madoc used to be - was no slouch, and he was no mendicant. Verena needed to see that, he told himself.
He straightened his back as he walked, even though it ached a little. Verena led the way through the hospital until they reached a scanning room, where a doctor and an FX-10 medical assistant droid were waiting. The doctor, a Sernpidalian, smiled with his pale, fleshy face, forcing his beady red eyes behind his cheeks until they were nearly invisible. "Hello, Perry," he said, "I am Dr. Minar. Miss Falkenrath has told me a great deal about your situation. I hope your wounds are healing well?" Perry nodded. Minar's smile widened, if that were possible. "Good," he continued, "If you will please lie down on this biobed--" he gestured to a nearby bunk, "--we can begin the scan. Don't worry, it isn't painful, and it won't take long."
Perry lay down, a little anxious. He was getting more confident as time passed, but he was still unsure of himself, he realized - and he smirked at his private pun. As the FX-10 moved to a position over him, the good doctor, unseen, declared, "You will see a bright flash of light, and you may lose some awareness of your surroundings. Do not be alarmed. That is only the scanner doing its work."
Perry nodded. The light flashed. Then there was nothing.
* * * * *
More flashes. But this was not the flash of a medical scanner. Blaster bolts flew overhead. Perry ducked down behind his cover, which he recognized as an old ground-transport vehicle. What was going on? Who was firing on him? He should have been in a biobed at a hospital on Sernpidal not... here, on Amvas II, in Quorl, fighting for his life. It didn't make sense.
"Whoooooo-ee!" a boy's voice shouted from nearby. He glanced over to see his friend, carrying the rifle that had been across Perry's shoulder before, winking at him as he peeked out from his own cover. "Got them whitehats a good one, we did!" he yelled, "Your plan worked perfect, Raddy! Two thermal detonators busted out their engines and then they had to slog through rads like the rest of us!"
Raddy? Perry thought, Is that me? He heard himself yell back, "Keep your damn head down, Davin! Their blasters work just as well as their boots! We can't stick around here much longer!"
Davin nodded and replied, "You're right, Radek. Let's get back to the hideout. You take Aurek, I'll take Dorn. See you there, and kiss Sivassa for me, would you?" Without another word, Davin took off, followed by a hail of blaster bolts.
Facing the other direction, Perry sprinted for a sewer pipe and dropped down into the muck below. He ran the course by memory: fourth door on the left, first right, fifth left, and the seventh drainpipe. The route back to the hideout gave him a few moments to consider what Davin had said. Perry's name was apparently Radek, if indeed these were memories, and he apparently had a relationship with a girl named Sivassa... or did Davin have the relationship? Perry didn't know, and for the moment, he didn't know who Radek was - so he was going to stay Perry until he could be sure. After all, Radek killed Stormtroopers very readily - didn't that make him a criminal? Maybe he had been the mercenary to set loose the Terencors. Perry did not want to be Radek.
He dropped into the hideout. There were over a dozen people there, all children, about his age. There were crates of food that had been preserved from the radiation, but Perry realized that there were no weapons except for what he carried in. If they had any armaments at all, their supplies were dwindling, and the Stormtroopers surely had a better supply than what little Perry had brought from his home.
As Perry walked into the little camp, the others came to greet him. "How did it go?" they asked, "Did you get the bastards?" "I hope those thermal detonators sent every last whitehat to each of the Nine Hells!" "Where's Davin?" The last question was asked by a girl whose voice sounded perfectly familiar to Perry. He turned to see her, and there she was: the girl of his dreams. Her blond hair fell a little past her shoulders, but it clumped almost into dreadlocks without the benefit of a good shower. She was tired and her clothes were ragged, but she still had a fire in her blue eyes that showed her powerful spirit. She was the warrior princess of Amvas II, and Perry hoped to every god in the Galaxy that he was her prince.
* * * * *
"That's it!" the jovial voice of Dr. Minar declared, "All done! That wasn't so hard, was it?"
As Verena and the doctor pulled him up from the biobed, Perry collapsed back down. Ever since those first nights, when he only saw her face, his dreams had been growing more vivid, more real. It was as if he was finally waking up from the sleepless nightmare of forgetfulness. He felt that his memory would soon be within his grasp. He was very anxious to tell Verena what he had learned, but he knew that hearing from Dr. Minar first could be beneficial. Waving off their concerns about his stumble, he turned to the doctor. "What's your prognosis, doc?" he asked.
The Sernpidalian patted him on the shoulder. "Give me an hour, boy. I'll have looked at the scans by then, and I'll be able to tell you exactly what's going on."
Verena took Perry's hand and walked him from the room to another room, titled "Exam Room Six." They sat down and she asked him, "You had a vision, didn't you?"
Her question startled him. That was right - they were visions, not dreams. He was not simply getting glimpses of his own imagination because his brain worked while his body idled. He was experiencing moments from his past, perhaps defining moments of his own history. He did not know how, or why, but it seemed his mind was rebuilding itself - he was sensing his own past to reconstruct his identity. That made what he had to say about the visions all the more compelling to him. "I saw myself in battle, with Stormtroopers, in a ruined city. There were... explosions... terrorists, I think. I had a friend, Davin; we fought the Stormtroopers together. And... she was there, too. Her name was Sivassa. She was beautiful... they said my name. They called me 'Radek'. It all happened so fast, but... I think these are real memories."
She smiled at his progress. "That's wonderful!" she said, "You're really coming along well. I'm proud of you. You seem to be overcoming this so quickly!" She paused and her smile faded. "Do you want me to start calling you Radek?"
He shook his head. "No," he replied, "I decided that I don't want to be Radek until I know what kind of man he was. I like being Perry Madoc. If it sounds like Radek was a bad guy... I'm going to stay Perry Madoc forever."
Verena smiled again. "Will you stay on Sernpidal?" she asked. Even Perry, as damaged as he was, could hear the last two words that she did not say: with me?
That was a tough question. Even if he did not want to become Radek, he might have to answer for Radek's crimes, or fulfill his obligations. But he liked it here. He liked being Perry Madoc. He liked Verena, very much. She had been so kind to him. He knew, in his heart, she would always be kind to him. Even if he had to leave, he decided that he would come back to be with her. That was the way it should be. Dan Voss and all his ilk be damned, Perry was determined to be happy - whether he ever was before or not. He smiled and nodded. "Yes, Verena. I'll stay here on Sernpidal. Without a doubt."
The two of them waited in that room, talking and discussing things that had been and would be, until Dr. Minar came to speak with them. The doctor knocked on the door and then, without waiting for an answer, entered. "Mr. Madoc, Miss Falkenrath," he greeted them. He took a deep, slow breath, as if conveying news of certain death. "I'm afraid I can't really be of much help. The condition that keeps Perry from remembering his past is not a medical one." He glanced at Perry and frowned. "It's a psychological one."
Verena furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Minar looked back at her. "The blocks on his memory are not because of disease, or damaged or scarred tissue. They are blocks that his own mind has placed there, to prevent him from accessing those memories."
Perry pursed his lips. "How do we overcome that?"
Minar replied, "You could speak with a therapist. There are many qualified individuals who can help you recover your repressed memories. But... from what I can tell, you may not have to."
"How so?"
Minar seemed to be struggling with the words. "It's like nothing I've ever seen. I don't get to see psychological blocks on an actual brain scan; I know they are there because the brain does not access certain memory engrams. But in the middle of my scan, Perry's brain began to access several of those engrams. That is healing on... an unprecedented level. I would imagine," he said, pausing slowly as he looked between the two, "that only someone powerful in the Force could heal so quickly."
Perry and Verena exchanged glances. It was beginning to sound more and more like he was one of the Sith seeking to destroy Sernpidal. Dan would not relent in requests to have him arrested.
As if on cue, the door burst open and a squad of Stormtroopers entered the small examination room, followed by none other than Dan Voss. Dr. Minar stood up indignantly. "This is my exam room!" he shouted, "You cannot simply barge in here and--"
One of the Stormtroopers cut him off. "We have received reports that this man is a conspirator with the agents who caused the destruction of Sernpidal. He will be taken in for questioning."
Two Stormtroopers advanced to seize Perry, but Verena stood in their way. She shouted at Dan, "How can you do this, Dan? You have no right! You can't just accuse people of something when they haven't done anything wrong!"
Dan sneered. "He stole you from me, Verena. And my explanation of his reason for being here makes far more sense than yours. It's time you woke up to reality and stopped living in a dream world! He's a Sith! He destroyed Sernpidal, and you want to fix him so he can do it again! He deserves to die for what he did!"
One of the Stormtroopers pushed Verena aside. Perry yelled, "Stop!" and pushed at the soldier.
But he never touched him. The Stormtrooper fell - almost flew - backward, colliding with one of his compatriots. Instantly, blaster carbines were trained on Perry, who had just graduated from suspect to guilty party. For a moment, everyone froze, and Perry stared at his hands, amazed by his own power. Then the carbines fired, sending arcing stun bolts into Perry's unprotected body, knocking him out cold.
* * * * *
"He's been gone too long," Perry heard himself say. "They must have captured him. I have to go get him."
"It's too dangerous!" Sivassa pleaded. "I can't lose you both in one day."
"He's your brother," Perry argued, "And my best friend. I won't leave him to die." He turned and looked at her. She saw the anger, the fury in his eyes. She had seen that fury many times before - every time they had lost a friend, every time the Stormtroopers, abandoned by their own empire, destroyed a life to save themselves, she had seen that fury well up in his eyes like he was about to explode. And she always worried that, if she did not let it go, if she did not allow him fight the enemy, then he would die.
But she could not let it go this time. She knew that, if he went, everything would change forever - and neither of them would ever recover. "I can't lose you, too," she said, "I need you here with me."
In spite of the gut-wrenching objections he had to his own actions, Perry smirked. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart, and I'll have your brother over one shoulder and a dozen new blaster carbines over the other." He leaned in, snaked one arm behind her to hold her back and to pull her in close. He kissed her, and as their lips pressed together, he felt a wave of comfort wash over him, warmth that defied the cold, dead city of Quorl, and the spark of love and peace filled his heart. But the darkness was still there. That darkness, hidden by his strength, tricked him. Instead of listening to her, he convinced himself that he had to protect her - that the only way he could save her was by standing on the front lines until every last foe was felled. "Trust me," he said, "It'll work." He grinned wickedly, as though he had not a care in the world, and he took up his blaster and headed out, following the Dorn route into the open. With luck, he would find where Davin had been captured, and he would get him back.
The route seemed largely ordinary until Perry neared the surface. That was when he found the dead Stormtrooper - shot with Davin's rifle. They had surrounded him here, surprised him. He had only gotten off one shot before they took him down. But he was not dead. Perry knew that the Stormtroopers could not have followed Davin from their firefight on the surface, which meant they had an alternate route to this location. It certainly was not back to the hideout, so Perry picked another tunnel at random and began making his way down it, hoping that he would find his friend.
Hours passed in the dark. For a time, Perry feared that he had lost his friend forever. But then he heard that inimitable sound of the march, the endless stomp-stomp-stomp of the Stormtroopers' boots against the stones of the sewer. The whitehats had set up a new base, much closer to the hideout. They were closing in. Perry made his way into the base, using months of experience to sneak past the dim-witted former-Imperials - what made it even easier was that they seemed to be moving out for another patrol. He found the holding cells; using a knife from his belt, he cut the throat of the lonely guard. Davin was the only living prisoner in the makeshift cells. Perry broke into the cell and leapt to his friend's side.
Davin's head lolled weakly to look at the newcomer. Perry flashed him a wicked grin. Davin tried to form his face into an expression, but the bruises had forced his right eye closed and his cheeks were swollen into a lack of cooperation. He opened his mouth to reveal that all of his teeth had been pulled. "Ah'm forry," he mumbled, "Ah'm fo forry."
Moved with compassion for his friend's pain, Perry leaned in close. "Sorry for what, Davin?"
"Ah thold 'em, Raddy," he said, his voice a jumble of mutilated sounds. "Where... hideout... thad where they're going. Can'd... dop 'em."
With a shudder and a groan, Davin died.
Perry suppressed the grief he felt for his friend. Heroism was called for now. He had to get back to the hideout, and fast - they would have to relocate, find a new place, find new food... they could do it, but only if they had warning. He had to make it back. They didn't have weapons. They'd be slaughtered.
He had to make it back.
* * * * *
"Visitor for you, Madoc!" a mechanized voice declared, waking Perry from his vision.
The cell door slammed open and Verena walked in. Perry threw his arms around her. "Verena!" he said, "You shouldn't be here! Why did you come?"
She smiled. "I had to," she said, "I had to see you."
Perry shook his head and pushed her away from him. "You should go. I can't have them accusing you with me."
"On what grounds?" she asked incredulously. "I was nowhere near here when the Terencors were released. It doesn't make any sense."
"Stormtroopers have ignored sense before. They will slaughter anyone who stands in their way." His voice dripped with the hate he remembered from Amvas II. "They'll make up a reason to kill you. You have to leave."
Verena smiled sadly. "Okay," she said, "but before I go, I need to give you something." Reaching up to her waist, she untied her blouse. It fell open. Perry stared at her in astonishment. What was she doing? How could this be appropriate to this moment? But she reached inside of a small, skin-colored pouch around her waist and withdrew a bundle of objects with a thick cloth wrapped around them. Once it had been extricated, she expertly tied her blouse back up, removing Perry's distraction. She held out the bundle.
The scream of a blaster bolt meshed with Verena's scream. She fell forward, terror in her eyes, as the Stormtrooper who shot her glared Perry down, carbine at the ready. The bundle slipped from Verena's hand and tumbled out onto the ground: the six lightsabers that had been retrieved from the collapsed buildings at the spaceport, where Perry had been found. Perry saw them and recognized them. He reached for his.
* * * * *
"These were the abos that have been giving us so much trouble? Haja, they're just a bunch of crinkin' kids!" one Stormtrooper was saying.
"They were a bunch of crinkin' kids, idiot," the other retorted. "Now they're dead, which is one less thorn in our side on this hellhole. We should have had them beat months ago." The second Stormtrooper kicked the foot of one corpse, whose fair frame had been burned by several blaster bolts, one even burning some of her blond hair.
Perry had heard enough. Anger overcame him: ire at being too late to save Davin, rage at being too late to save his friends, and fury at losing Sivassa. Letting out a roar of hate, he sprinted into the hideout, his blaster firing. The two Stormtroopers were dead before they knew what was going on. Three more, deeper in the complex, were killed as soon as they came running for the noise. Wherever the rest were was unimportant, but they would die, too. They all would die for this.
He sprinted to her side. He knelt by her, tears running down his face. "Sivassa!" he yelled as he took her up into his arms, cradling her like a lost infant. "Sivassa!" He looked deep into her blue eyes, his heart broken by the glassy emptiness that had replaced that vibrant spirit. He yelled her name again and again until he was hoarse and could yell no more. He wept, holding her close to him as he realized that he had lost her forever. He had lost everyone. He was alone.
"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. Trust me, it'll work."
"Up the stairs! We have to get high enough to cross the wall into the spaceport before this thing goes off!"
"Yes, Verena. I'll stay here on Sernpidal. Without a doubt."
Radek took hold of his lightsaber and turned Verena over, so she could face him. "Verena," he said, "Why?"
She smiled faintly and reached up to touch his face. "Go," she said softly, "Find your Sivassa... and I will... always love you."
Hot tears welled up in Radek's eyes, but he blinked them away. He thumbed on his lightsaber, its blue blade springing forth to life. He scowled at the Stormtrooper, who was now backed up by seven others. They were all a little hesitant to fire on a suspected Sith. "Were any of you at the battle at the spaceport?" he demanded.
After a moment, one said, "Nobody talk to him."
Radek smiled thinly. "So you were all there. Tell me, there are only five Sith lightsabers here. Where is the sixth?" The Stormtroopers were silent. Radek's eye twitched as he became impatient, his anger beginning to overtake him. If he had failed... if Jana were lost... this would make three times a generous act had been made worthless by the Dark Side. "There was a Jedi Knight there, by the name of Jana Dophi. She was masquerading as Master Kalja Leidias. Do any of you know what happened to her?" Silence again.
Perhaps they knew nothing. Or perhaps they were too afraid to tell the truth.
Radek could take it no longer. He sneered. His lightsaber flashed as he charged.
OOC: Here ends Radek's time on Sernpidal.
A rumbling caught his attention. He spun in time to see a shock wave tear through his room, bearing fire and death.
* * * * *
Perry woke again, this time with a start. Verena hurried to his side and took his hand. He looked at her, his eyes filled with fear until her soothing face calmed him. "What did you see, Perry?" she asked him.
He shook his head slightly. "Fire," he replied, "and death."
Dan Voss was, as he often had been in the weeks since Perry's arrival, standing in the doorway. "Maybe that's because he was the cause of so much of that here," he said caustically.
Verena did not look at him. "I told you that you not to bother us when he's trying to recover," she said firmly.
"I'm not leaving you alone with him!" Dan yelled, his short temper once more sparked off. "He's dangerous!"
Verena did turn now. "You don't know that! He hasn't done anything wrong!" She was angry, Perry saw. Dan was not listening to her. If he had ever had a chance of a life with Verena, Perry was concerned that Dan had lost that on his account. Perry did not want to hurt these people. They had helped him. But he did not know how to fix this.
"You don't know that, either, Verena!" Dan retorted. "If he doesn't remember anything, he wouldn't know that he did it - and if he does remember, then he could be hiding his actions behind this... veneer of innocence!"
Perry looked at Verena. Dan was right. It made logical sense. Perry very well could be the villain of the entire Sernpidal attack. She should not trust him.
But as he watched her eyes twitch and her frown deepen, he knew: she did. "Get out of here, Dan. I don't want to see you in here again. Get out and stay out," she ordered. She did not let her anger control her voice, which she held even and calm. It was a matter of fact: Dan would not be allowed back in the hospital without an injury.
Dan did not look happy. But he complied. Slowly, he bowed, turned, and left the room. Verena collapsed onto the bed, as if it had taken all of her energy to speak with such harshness. Having come to know her gentleness over the past days, Perry suspected that it had. Still, he had to speak. "He could be right," Perry said, "I could be the cause of all this."
Verena glared at him. "Don't you start, too, Perry."
Perry looked apologetic. "I don't remember anything!" he replied, "And we don't know exactly what happened out there. I could be dangerous. It would be better if I were not here. I should go."
Verena slapped him. He looked at her, eyes wide, unsure of what to do. She smiled, then caressed his cheek, reddened by her palm. "That's how I know you're not dangerous, Perry," she said. "A dangerous person would have attacked me out of instinct." Perry frowned, unconvinced. Verena continued, "I think that we should see a specialist about your memory, Perry. There is a doctor I know of at Sernpidal City - he can scan your brain and figure out what is blocking you from accessing your memory."
Perry nodded. "Okay," he replied. "We'll go tomorrow?"
Verena nodded, then caressed his forehead. "Now get some rest."
* * * * *
Perry was in his room again. There had not been a fire. There had been a rumbling, but it had not been here. Perry rushed from the refresher to the window of his bedroom, from which he could see a mountain. On the far side of that mountain, he saw a huge, billowing cloud, shaped like a mushroom. He knew that people had died, but he didn't know who. But he felt something - a deep pain, twisting his gut. He remembered then that his parents had been in the capital city - of what planet, he didn't know - and more than knowing, he felt that the attacks had targeted that city, if not others. His parents, he knew, were dead.
The pain was overwhelming. He fell to the floor, writhing as death covered him, filled him. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to quell the agony. Moments passed. At last, the pain began to fade. The death was becoming a part of him. The darkness became a kernel at his center, hidden behind the force of his strength. He struggled to his feet and went downstairs. Somehow, he knew that there were weapons in the basement. And somehow, he knew that he would need them.
* * * * *
"Perry?"
Perry swam into consciousness. "Verena?"
She smiled at him. "Time to go. We have a long trip to Sernpidal City." She took him by the hand and led him, docile as a pet, outside the hospital and to a small transport. They settled inside. Kern was in the driver's seat. He looked, with some mild suspicion, at Perry, then smiled at Verena. "Ready to go, Kern," she told him.
He nodded and the vehicle began to accelerate and lift into the air. Turning the vessel toward Sernpidal City, Kern pushed the vehicle until it was at cruising speed. "It'll be about four hours," he announced.
Verena turned to Perry. "Did you have more dreams?" she asked.
He nodded. "I don't remember much. A lot of pain."
"Was it of the battle at the spaceport?" Kern asked, genuinely interested. Unlike Dan, Perry had noticed, Kern showed real care for other people, including him.
Perry shook his head. "No, it was something... older. And it was different. It wasn't physical pain. It hurt... deep." He shook his head, displeased with his choice of words. There just weren't words for what he had felt. "But I really don't remember," he added, trying to cover the inadequacy with forgetfulness.
Kern nodded, then looked back at his instruments. Verena smiled pityingly. "Was she there?"
Perry shook his head again, frowning. "No, I haven't seen her in a while. I don't know how she fits in. But I feel like this was a really long time ago. Like... maybe I was a kid," he explained. Then he sighed. His body, though it was healing quickly, still pained him. "I... I think I need some more rest," he suggested, stretching a little.
Verena nodded. "I'm sorry, Perry. I woke you up early. Get some more sleep." Perry smiled and twisted in his chair until he was not facing the nearest window, and sleep overtook him again.
* * * * *
The air was already dirtier. Perry found himself in a radiation suit, and he was glad for it. He felt his hip, where he found a blaster pistol. Across his back he felt a rifle, a little too long for his young frame. Perry looked back, seeing in the distance the hint of greenery that reminded him of the area around the house he had left. Around him, though, the land was dead. Fire and radiation had ravaged the countryside, leaving nothing alive. Whatever had happened, his world had been destroyed, and a new one - one of death, one of pain, one of suffering, one of horror.
He walked for hours. Maybe days. He did not stop. He did not eat. He did not sleep. The world, faded into a shadow of life, littered with remnants of civilization, passed under his feet as he walked, almost aimless in his direction. Eventually, he came near the capital city. He passed a sign: Quorl, Capital of Amvas II. He looked to the sky. That burning blaze must have been Amvas. This world was its second planet, he surmised, and it had once been full of life. Now it was an empty husk.
The city was getting nearer on the horizon. Very little was left standing. But deep down, Perry knew that there were underground tunnel systems; the city stretched beneath the earth half as far as above the earth. And something in his gut told him that there were survivors there. Some people that he could help. And some people that he would have to hurt.
* * * * *
"We're here." Kern's gruff voice woke Perry from his slumber. "Sernpidal City Hospital."
Perry blinked a few times. Verena smiled at him. She took his hand again, helping him out of the transport. Kern followed them out, but stayed by the hatch to the transport. Perry let go of Verena's hand as he walked, wishing to propel himself by his own power. She let him go, but looked back at him with a sweet smile; she seemed to be asking him why he did not want her to take care of him. But he knew that he did not want her to take care of him. He wanted to stand on his own. He wanted independence. It was emasculating, he thought, for her to take care of him so much. He was not an invalid anymore. He needed to be himself again. And he could not remember his name, but he knew that Perry Madoc - and whoever Perry Madoc used to be - was no slouch, and he was no mendicant. Verena needed to see that, he told himself.
He straightened his back as he walked, even though it ached a little. Verena led the way through the hospital until they reached a scanning room, where a doctor and an FX-10 medical assistant droid were waiting. The doctor, a Sernpidalian, smiled with his pale, fleshy face, forcing his beady red eyes behind his cheeks until they were nearly invisible. "Hello, Perry," he said, "I am Dr. Minar. Miss Falkenrath has told me a great deal about your situation. I hope your wounds are healing well?" Perry nodded. Minar's smile widened, if that were possible. "Good," he continued, "If you will please lie down on this biobed--" he gestured to a nearby bunk, "--we can begin the scan. Don't worry, it isn't painful, and it won't take long."
Perry lay down, a little anxious. He was getting more confident as time passed, but he was still unsure of himself, he realized - and he smirked at his private pun. As the FX-10 moved to a position over him, the good doctor, unseen, declared, "You will see a bright flash of light, and you may lose some awareness of your surroundings. Do not be alarmed. That is only the scanner doing its work."
Perry nodded. The light flashed. Then there was nothing.
* * * * *
More flashes. But this was not the flash of a medical scanner. Blaster bolts flew overhead. Perry ducked down behind his cover, which he recognized as an old ground-transport vehicle. What was going on? Who was firing on him? He should have been in a biobed at a hospital on Sernpidal not... here, on Amvas II, in Quorl, fighting for his life. It didn't make sense.
"Whoooooo-ee!" a boy's voice shouted from nearby. He glanced over to see his friend, carrying the rifle that had been across Perry's shoulder before, winking at him as he peeked out from his own cover. "Got them whitehats a good one, we did!" he yelled, "Your plan worked perfect, Raddy! Two thermal detonators busted out their engines and then they had to slog through rads like the rest of us!"
Raddy? Perry thought, Is that me? He heard himself yell back, "Keep your damn head down, Davin! Their blasters work just as well as their boots! We can't stick around here much longer!"
Davin nodded and replied, "You're right, Radek. Let's get back to the hideout. You take Aurek, I'll take Dorn. See you there, and kiss Sivassa for me, would you?" Without another word, Davin took off, followed by a hail of blaster bolts.
Facing the other direction, Perry sprinted for a sewer pipe and dropped down into the muck below. He ran the course by memory: fourth door on the left, first right, fifth left, and the seventh drainpipe. The route back to the hideout gave him a few moments to consider what Davin had said. Perry's name was apparently Radek, if indeed these were memories, and he apparently had a relationship with a girl named Sivassa... or did Davin have the relationship? Perry didn't know, and for the moment, he didn't know who Radek was - so he was going to stay Perry until he could be sure. After all, Radek killed Stormtroopers very readily - didn't that make him a criminal? Maybe he had been the mercenary to set loose the Terencors. Perry did not want to be Radek.
He dropped into the hideout. There were over a dozen people there, all children, about his age. There were crates of food that had been preserved from the radiation, but Perry realized that there were no weapons except for what he carried in. If they had any armaments at all, their supplies were dwindling, and the Stormtroopers surely had a better supply than what little Perry had brought from his home.
As Perry walked into the little camp, the others came to greet him. "How did it go?" they asked, "Did you get the bastards?" "I hope those thermal detonators sent every last whitehat to each of the Nine Hells!" "Where's Davin?" The last question was asked by a girl whose voice sounded perfectly familiar to Perry. He turned to see her, and there she was: the girl of his dreams. Her blond hair fell a little past her shoulders, but it clumped almost into dreadlocks without the benefit of a good shower. She was tired and her clothes were ragged, but she still had a fire in her blue eyes that showed her powerful spirit. She was the warrior princess of Amvas II, and Perry hoped to every god in the Galaxy that he was her prince.
* * * * *
"That's it!" the jovial voice of Dr. Minar declared, "All done! That wasn't so hard, was it?"
As Verena and the doctor pulled him up from the biobed, Perry collapsed back down. Ever since those first nights, when he only saw her face, his dreams had been growing more vivid, more real. It was as if he was finally waking up from the sleepless nightmare of forgetfulness. He felt that his memory would soon be within his grasp. He was very anxious to tell Verena what he had learned, but he knew that hearing from Dr. Minar first could be beneficial. Waving off their concerns about his stumble, he turned to the doctor. "What's your prognosis, doc?" he asked.
The Sernpidalian patted him on the shoulder. "Give me an hour, boy. I'll have looked at the scans by then, and I'll be able to tell you exactly what's going on."
Verena took Perry's hand and walked him from the room to another room, titled "Exam Room Six." They sat down and she asked him, "You had a vision, didn't you?"
Her question startled him. That was right - they were visions, not dreams. He was not simply getting glimpses of his own imagination because his brain worked while his body idled. He was experiencing moments from his past, perhaps defining moments of his own history. He did not know how, or why, but it seemed his mind was rebuilding itself - he was sensing his own past to reconstruct his identity. That made what he had to say about the visions all the more compelling to him. "I saw myself in battle, with Stormtroopers, in a ruined city. There were... explosions... terrorists, I think. I had a friend, Davin; we fought the Stormtroopers together. And... she was there, too. Her name was Sivassa. She was beautiful... they said my name. They called me 'Radek'. It all happened so fast, but... I think these are real memories."
She smiled at his progress. "That's wonderful!" she said, "You're really coming along well. I'm proud of you. You seem to be overcoming this so quickly!" She paused and her smile faded. "Do you want me to start calling you Radek?"
He shook his head. "No," he replied, "I decided that I don't want to be Radek until I know what kind of man he was. I like being Perry Madoc. If it sounds like Radek was a bad guy... I'm going to stay Perry Madoc forever."
Verena smiled again. "Will you stay on Sernpidal?" she asked. Even Perry, as damaged as he was, could hear the last two words that she did not say: with me?
That was a tough question. Even if he did not want to become Radek, he might have to answer for Radek's crimes, or fulfill his obligations. But he liked it here. He liked being Perry Madoc. He liked Verena, very much. She had been so kind to him. He knew, in his heart, she would always be kind to him. Even if he had to leave, he decided that he would come back to be with her. That was the way it should be. Dan Voss and all his ilk be damned, Perry was determined to be happy - whether he ever was before or not. He smiled and nodded. "Yes, Verena. I'll stay here on Sernpidal. Without a doubt."
The two of them waited in that room, talking and discussing things that had been and would be, until Dr. Minar came to speak with them. The doctor knocked on the door and then, without waiting for an answer, entered. "Mr. Madoc, Miss Falkenrath," he greeted them. He took a deep, slow breath, as if conveying news of certain death. "I'm afraid I can't really be of much help. The condition that keeps Perry from remembering his past is not a medical one." He glanced at Perry and frowned. "It's a psychological one."
Verena furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Minar looked back at her. "The blocks on his memory are not because of disease, or damaged or scarred tissue. They are blocks that his own mind has placed there, to prevent him from accessing those memories."
Perry pursed his lips. "How do we overcome that?"
Minar replied, "You could speak with a therapist. There are many qualified individuals who can help you recover your repressed memories. But... from what I can tell, you may not have to."
"How so?"
Minar seemed to be struggling with the words. "It's like nothing I've ever seen. I don't get to see psychological blocks on an actual brain scan; I know they are there because the brain does not access certain memory engrams. But in the middle of my scan, Perry's brain began to access several of those engrams. That is healing on... an unprecedented level. I would imagine," he said, pausing slowly as he looked between the two, "that only someone powerful in the Force could heal so quickly."
Perry and Verena exchanged glances. It was beginning to sound more and more like he was one of the Sith seeking to destroy Sernpidal. Dan would not relent in requests to have him arrested.
As if on cue, the door burst open and a squad of Stormtroopers entered the small examination room, followed by none other than Dan Voss. Dr. Minar stood up indignantly. "This is my exam room!" he shouted, "You cannot simply barge in here and--"
One of the Stormtroopers cut him off. "We have received reports that this man is a conspirator with the agents who caused the destruction of Sernpidal. He will be taken in for questioning."
Two Stormtroopers advanced to seize Perry, but Verena stood in their way. She shouted at Dan, "How can you do this, Dan? You have no right! You can't just accuse people of something when they haven't done anything wrong!"
Dan sneered. "He stole you from me, Verena. And my explanation of his reason for being here makes far more sense than yours. It's time you woke up to reality and stopped living in a dream world! He's a Sith! He destroyed Sernpidal, and you want to fix him so he can do it again! He deserves to die for what he did!"
One of the Stormtroopers pushed Verena aside. Perry yelled, "Stop!" and pushed at the soldier.
But he never touched him. The Stormtrooper fell - almost flew - backward, colliding with one of his compatriots. Instantly, blaster carbines were trained on Perry, who had just graduated from suspect to guilty party. For a moment, everyone froze, and Perry stared at his hands, amazed by his own power. Then the carbines fired, sending arcing stun bolts into Perry's unprotected body, knocking him out cold.
* * * * *
"He's been gone too long," Perry heard himself say. "They must have captured him. I have to go get him."
"It's too dangerous!" Sivassa pleaded. "I can't lose you both in one day."
"He's your brother," Perry argued, "And my best friend. I won't leave him to die." He turned and looked at her. She saw the anger, the fury in his eyes. She had seen that fury many times before - every time they had lost a friend, every time the Stormtroopers, abandoned by their own empire, destroyed a life to save themselves, she had seen that fury well up in his eyes like he was about to explode. And she always worried that, if she did not let it go, if she did not allow him fight the enemy, then he would die.
But she could not let it go this time. She knew that, if he went, everything would change forever - and neither of them would ever recover. "I can't lose you, too," she said, "I need you here with me."
In spite of the gut-wrenching objections he had to his own actions, Perry smirked. "I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart, and I'll have your brother over one shoulder and a dozen new blaster carbines over the other." He leaned in, snaked one arm behind her to hold her back and to pull her in close. He kissed her, and as their lips pressed together, he felt a wave of comfort wash over him, warmth that defied the cold, dead city of Quorl, and the spark of love and peace filled his heart. But the darkness was still there. That darkness, hidden by his strength, tricked him. Instead of listening to her, he convinced himself that he had to protect her - that the only way he could save her was by standing on the front lines until every last foe was felled. "Trust me," he said, "It'll work." He grinned wickedly, as though he had not a care in the world, and he took up his blaster and headed out, following the Dorn route into the open. With luck, he would find where Davin had been captured, and he would get him back.
The route seemed largely ordinary until Perry neared the surface. That was when he found the dead Stormtrooper - shot with Davin's rifle. They had surrounded him here, surprised him. He had only gotten off one shot before they took him down. But he was not dead. Perry knew that the Stormtroopers could not have followed Davin from their firefight on the surface, which meant they had an alternate route to this location. It certainly was not back to the hideout, so Perry picked another tunnel at random and began making his way down it, hoping that he would find his friend.
Hours passed in the dark. For a time, Perry feared that he had lost his friend forever. But then he heard that inimitable sound of the march, the endless stomp-stomp-stomp of the Stormtroopers' boots against the stones of the sewer. The whitehats had set up a new base, much closer to the hideout. They were closing in. Perry made his way into the base, using months of experience to sneak past the dim-witted former-Imperials - what made it even easier was that they seemed to be moving out for another patrol. He found the holding cells; using a knife from his belt, he cut the throat of the lonely guard. Davin was the only living prisoner in the makeshift cells. Perry broke into the cell and leapt to his friend's side.
Davin's head lolled weakly to look at the newcomer. Perry flashed him a wicked grin. Davin tried to form his face into an expression, but the bruises had forced his right eye closed and his cheeks were swollen into a lack of cooperation. He opened his mouth to reveal that all of his teeth had been pulled. "Ah'm forry," he mumbled, "Ah'm fo forry."
Moved with compassion for his friend's pain, Perry leaned in close. "Sorry for what, Davin?"
"Ah thold 'em, Raddy," he said, his voice a jumble of mutilated sounds. "Where... hideout... thad where they're going. Can'd... dop 'em."
With a shudder and a groan, Davin died.
Perry suppressed the grief he felt for his friend. Heroism was called for now. He had to get back to the hideout, and fast - they would have to relocate, find a new place, find new food... they could do it, but only if they had warning. He had to make it back. They didn't have weapons. They'd be slaughtered.
He had to make it back.
* * * * *
"Visitor for you, Madoc!" a mechanized voice declared, waking Perry from his vision.
The cell door slammed open and Verena walked in. Perry threw his arms around her. "Verena!" he said, "You shouldn't be here! Why did you come?"
She smiled. "I had to," she said, "I had to see you."
Perry shook his head and pushed her away from him. "You should go. I can't have them accusing you with me."
"On what grounds?" she asked incredulously. "I was nowhere near here when the Terencors were released. It doesn't make any sense."
"Stormtroopers have ignored sense before. They will slaughter anyone who stands in their way." His voice dripped with the hate he remembered from Amvas II. "They'll make up a reason to kill you. You have to leave."
Verena smiled sadly. "Okay," she said, "but before I go, I need to give you something." Reaching up to her waist, she untied her blouse. It fell open. Perry stared at her in astonishment. What was she doing? How could this be appropriate to this moment? But she reached inside of a small, skin-colored pouch around her waist and withdrew a bundle of objects with a thick cloth wrapped around them. Once it had been extricated, she expertly tied her blouse back up, removing Perry's distraction. She held out the bundle.
The scream of a blaster bolt meshed with Verena's scream. She fell forward, terror in her eyes, as the Stormtrooper who shot her glared Perry down, carbine at the ready. The bundle slipped from Verena's hand and tumbled out onto the ground: the six lightsabers that had been retrieved from the collapsed buildings at the spaceport, where Perry had been found. Perry saw them and recognized them. He reached for his.
* * * * *
"These were the abos that have been giving us so much trouble? Haja, they're just a bunch of crinkin' kids!" one Stormtrooper was saying.
"They were a bunch of crinkin' kids, idiot," the other retorted. "Now they're dead, which is one less thorn in our side on this hellhole. We should have had them beat months ago." The second Stormtrooper kicked the foot of one corpse, whose fair frame had been burned by several blaster bolts, one even burning some of her blond hair.
Perry had heard enough. Anger overcame him: ire at being too late to save Davin, rage at being too late to save his friends, and fury at losing Sivassa. Letting out a roar of hate, he sprinted into the hideout, his blaster firing. The two Stormtroopers were dead before they knew what was going on. Three more, deeper in the complex, were killed as soon as they came running for the noise. Wherever the rest were was unimportant, but they would die, too. They all would die for this.
He sprinted to her side. He knelt by her, tears running down his face. "Sivassa!" he yelled as he took her up into his arms, cradling her like a lost infant. "Sivassa!" He looked deep into her blue eyes, his heart broken by the glassy emptiness that had replaced that vibrant spirit. He yelled her name again and again until he was hoarse and could yell no more. He wept, holding her close to him as he realized that he had lost her forever. He had lost everyone. He was alone.
"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. Trust me, it'll work."
"Up the stairs! We have to get high enough to cross the wall into the spaceport before this thing goes off!"
"Yes, Verena. I'll stay here on Sernpidal. Without a doubt."
Radek took hold of his lightsaber and turned Verena over, so she could face him. "Verena," he said, "Why?"
She smiled faintly and reached up to touch his face. "Go," she said softly, "Find your Sivassa... and I will... always love you."
Hot tears welled up in Radek's eyes, but he blinked them away. He thumbed on his lightsaber, its blue blade springing forth to life. He scowled at the Stormtrooper, who was now backed up by seven others. They were all a little hesitant to fire on a suspected Sith. "Were any of you at the battle at the spaceport?" he demanded.
After a moment, one said, "Nobody talk to him."
Radek smiled thinly. "So you were all there. Tell me, there are only five Sith lightsabers here. Where is the sixth?" The Stormtroopers were silent. Radek's eye twitched as he became impatient, his anger beginning to overtake him. If he had failed... if Jana were lost... this would make three times a generous act had been made worthless by the Dark Side. "There was a Jedi Knight there, by the name of Jana Dophi. She was masquerading as Master Kalja Leidias. Do any of you know what happened to her?" Silence again.
Perhaps they knew nothing. Or perhaps they were too afraid to tell the truth.
Radek could take it no longer. He sneered. His lightsaber flashed as he charged.
OOC: Here ends Radek's time on Sernpidal.
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