Chapter Text
University of Commenor Hospital, Commenor
Commenor System, Ranchuk Sector
~2 weeks later
Senya watched the bustle of air traffic through a sliver of window that wasn’t covered by the curtain, her eyes following the trajectories of the vehicles until they disappeared behind a skyscraper or traveled out of sight. She’d then focus on a new aircraft until it moved out of view as well.
Every glint of gold in the afternoon sun gave her goosebumps and made her breath catch in her throat. Those glittering shuttles were almost always Zakuulan, and the galactic turmoil these days ascertained the passengers to be Knights or Exarchs. Or both. On more than one occasion, a shuttle had flown by close enough to her window that she saw the pilot and a few Knights through the shuttle’s tinted windshield. How long would it take before somebody flying by discovered that the galaxy’s two greatest fugitives were holed up in a hospital room only a dozen metres away?
She and Arcann had been on Commenor for nearly two weeks. She’d been extremely vigilant at all hours of the day, especially with Arcann being unable to keep watch for long. The fear of being ambushed by Mirreah or Vaylin’s forces prevented her from being able to fully rest, and she had to remind herself that the consistency of hospital life with its checkups and delivery of meals three times a day was an illusion of safety that could be dissolve at any moment. Her fatigue and paranoia intensified with each passing day that they spent in the hospital, and it was slowly driving her insane. If she were to be honest to herself, she was dumbstruck that she and Arcann had lasted this long in hiding.
Neither of them had stepped foot outside the recovery room since their admission to the hospital. Arcann hadn’t for obvious reasons, but she hadn’t either due to the suggestions from the head nurse for their own safety. Normally Senya wouldn’t have thought twice about looking at the corners of a room, but now she couldn’t bear to, at least not while she remained at this hospital. Whenever she looked at the corners of their room, the room seemed to close in on her. Maybe this is what being in prison is like, she wondered.
Being cooped up for two weeks was made worse by the lack of awareness of the galaxy’s current state of affairs. Senya had no access to a datapad or anything that connected to the holonet, so all of the news she was privy to was provided by Miwa whenever the charge nurse brought their meals to them, and even so, the nurse was reluctant to divulge too much. Senya understood the mistrust that existed between them, but she was more concerned that the nurse was tight-lipped was because she was an informant for either the Alliance or Vaylin.
The Alliance had strong ties to Commenor. One of the first things Mirreah did after establishing the Alliance was destroying the orbiting Star Fortress and creating an elaborate smuggling operation that ensured the planet’s hospitals received the necessary medical supplies to continue functioning despite the Eternal Empire’s crippling sanctions.
Senya turned away from the window to stare at Arcann. Her son was sound asleep, and it was comforting to watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest while he slept. For someone who’d endured such grievous injuries, Arcann’s recovery was nothing short of remarkable in the two weeks that they’d spent in the hospital. He was still hooked up to the heartbeat monitor to evaluate his condition, but he no longer relied on the respirator to help him breathe. The saline drip was long gone, and Dr. Rennagen had said that the antibiotic drip would be taken out the day after tomorrow. The infection in Arcann’s chest wound had run its course, and she knew that he looked forward to having antibiotics administered using medicine cups instead of through the bothersome IV.
The corners of Senya’s mouth curled upwards in a slight smile. Other than regaining his strength, she was pleased to see that Arcann had regained his appetite and readily ate the meals offered to him. During their travels to Firrerre and to Commenor, he’d eaten sparingly, but now that he was better, he’d eaten as if catching up on lost meals was a possibility. She’d given him her portions even if it meant she’d go hungry until the next time Miwa visited, and whatever non-perishables they didn’t eat were hoarded away for later.
All mothers, regardless of what position they were in economically, were forever worried that their children didn’t have enough to eat, and watching Arcann eat with such enthusiasm brought back happy memories where Senya and all three of her children sat down together for every meal. Thexan, Arcann and Vaylin were adorable as children, and even more so with their cheeks stuffed full of food.
But Thexan is gone, and Vaylin wants nothing to do with me, the voice inside her head cruelly reminded her. She shook her head to rid herself of unpleasant thoughts and tried to replace them with happy ones.
I still have Arcann. And that’s enough of a reason to be happy.
Senya glanced up. Arcann’s face seemed more relaxed, as if he subconsciously sensed the twinge of contentment within her. If the Old Gods were good, they’d give him the time to fully convalesce and regain his strength. At Arcann’s request, she’d helped him practice walking every day since the moment he’d felt good enough and had the energy to get out of bed. His chest had been stiff and sore, hindering his movements so that he could only stagger slowly. Despite her gently reminding him that he’d suffered a fatal wound, survived against all odds, and that he’d been recovering far more quickly than expected, Arcann’s frustration and impatience at his body’s inability to return to a state that met his standards had ignited the old, fiery anger that had lain dormant in him since Mirreah had slashed his chest open. There wasn’t much Senya could’ve done to soothe his temper, but the fear must’ve shown in her face whenever his temper had flared as Arcann had attempted to quash each outburst.
Senya did, however, give him credit for being very receptive to spending his time awake in planning their next steps together. Other than meditating, it was the only mentally stimulating thing that they could both do within the confines of the recovery room. She’d told him about the possibility of hiding out on Garqi where they’d be far away from Zakuul and still have access to a hospital. She’d also told him about Samir Durrun, her contact on Carratos and how they might be able to lie low amongst the billions of people in the ecumenopolis and still have access to an off-the-grid doctor.
“There’s a spaceport close to the hospital,” Arcann mumbled to her, snapping her out of her thoughts. Senya had been so engrossed with her contemplations that she failed to notice that her son had woken up. “We can stock up on supplies there. Let’s make a list so we don’t forget.”
Senya wished she had a datapad. Maybe if she recited the list of items until it was ingrained into her memory, they wouldn’t forget. “We need gauze, bandages, antibacterial ointment, painkillers –”
“Kolto patches, medical tape, antiseptics, basically entire medkits,” Arcann interrupted. “Stims? Did we use any? I can’t remember.”
Senya shook her head, remembering how she was afraid to do so. “No, and we still have the medisensor, the scissors, and the cold compresses from the medkit that came with the shuttle.”
Arcann pondered for a minute. “There’s no guarantee that our shuttle is still in the hangar. Which hangar was it?”
“I don’t remember,” Senya confessed, wincing when she saw an irritated, almost angry light flicker in Arcann’s golden eyes. She held her breath in anticipation of an angry outburst. “I’ll ask the nurse the next time she comes by. Worst comes to worst, we can steal a ship.”
Arcann noticed the unease in his mother’s eyes and sighed in an effort to wish his disappointment away. “We can convince that nurse to go raid a storage room instead of going to a spaceport,” he murmured.
Senya hadn’t thought of that. If they could Force persuade Miwa into swiping medical supplies, they wouldn’t have to head to a spaceport and risk being exposed. “Good call. I’ll try to convince her to go raid the kitchens as well.” That might be pushing it as nurses most likely didn’t have access to the back of the kitchen, but she didn’t tell Arcann that.
But still, she would try. What could it hurt to do so?
She and Arcann spent the rest of the day planning and when he was up for it, walking around in their room. With the time she had, Senya contemplated their luck, and wasn’t sure which she should be more awestruck with: her son’s swift recovery, or how they’d remained hidden for as long as they had with Dr. Rennagen and Miwa’s efforts. They’d been safe for far longer than her own expectations, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t allow herself to be lulled into complacency with the sense of security that the hospital offered them. She’d prayed to all of the Old Gods every night that they could remain hidden until Arcann was well enough to be discharged from the hospital, but she didn’t need to be a Scion to foresee the future and know that their luck had almost run out.
University of Commenor Hospital, Commenor
Commenor System, Ranchuk Sector
3 days later
Senya wasn’t asleep yet, but the sudden chorus of bloodcurdling screams outside dispelled any drowsiness she might’ve had. Next to her, Arcann’s heartbeat monitor beeped frantically. “What’s that?” Arcann asked her worriedly, his voice rough from sleep.
Senya didn’t answer him. She sprinted to the window to lift up a corner of the curtain so she could peep outside. At first glance, there wasn’t anything amiss, but then it dawned on her that there was something that looked like a new skyscraper with rows of pale blue lights. This skyscraper wasn’t there the night before and was oddly shaped like a cross, and all of the air traffic seemed to be fleeing away from it. The sky was dark and it was a new moon, and Senya squinted to locate the source of the disturbance.
Even with the inky sky, she still made out the outline of an Eternal Fleet ship in the atmosphere, its turrets aimed at the hospital.
She glanced up at horror. The ‘stars’ in the sky tonight weren’t stars. They were the lights of the Eternal Fleet.
“The Eternal Fleet,” Senya whispered.
“The Fleet’s here?” Arcann questioned, the panic settling in his voice. Senya didn’t even realize that she’d voiced her observations out loud for him to hear. She could only watched, stunned as the closest ship started firing.
There was nothing Senya could do but watch, open-mouthed, as an entire hospital tower burst into flames so bright that a second sun appeared in the sky. She briefly saw the silhouette of twisted rebar against the flames before the tower slowly crumbled to the ground.
How many doctors and patients were in there? Senya wondered as she tried her best to ignore the shockwaves of the Force emanating from all the lives that were so suddenly extinguished.
“CODE ORANGE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REPEAT: THIS IS NOT A DRILL,” a voice immediately blared over the public announcement system.
Focusing her eyes below, she saw a squadron of Zakuulan shuttles unloading Knights, Exarchs, and Vaylin’s infamous Horizon Guards. The Horizon Guards were notorious enough that even she’d heard of them during their two weeks of isolation. “They’re here,” Senya announced breathlessly. She turned around to see him still staring out the window in shock, and in his eyes was an emotion he wasn’t allowed to feel: fear. She rushed back to help her struggling son out of bed.
Hearing footsteps outside, Senya instinctively stood in front of her son and the door. She ignited her lightsaber, the blue blade illuminating the room with an eerie glow. The sliding door opened with a pneumatic hiss, and Senya was briefly blinded by the hallway lights flooding into the room.
The person on the other end of her lightsaber immediately dropped something onto the floor and raised both hands in surrender. “It’s Charge Nurse Miwa,” the person repeated again and again in terror.
Senya stepped back and withdrew her lightsaber from the nurse’s face, but didn’t deactivate it. The frightened nurse fumbled for the button to close the door, and the room soon returned into darkness save for the blue glow of Senya’s lightsaber. Miwa then groped around for the light switch and a dim light soon illuminated the room. “You don’t have much time. They’re looking for you and your friend,” Miwa said breathlessly. Senya opened her mouth, but the nurse cut her off. “I’ve a plan to get you both out, so listen to me and don’t argue.”
Senya nodded. Miwa picked up the bundle she’d dropped and tossed it at Senya.
It was a nurse’s scrubs.
“Put this on, put the mask on as well, and follow my lead,” Miwa instructed. “Do something about those long sleeves. They'll know you're not a nurse if you don't.”
Senya took off her Knight’s shirt, and cut off the sleeves with her lightsaber before slipping it back on. She threw on the scrubs, and frowned when she noticed that her boots were still visible. If she had to look like a nurse, she couldn’t walk around with Zakuulan Knight-issued boots.
“The boots,” Senya worriedly said.
“They won’t be seeing your feet,” Miwa reassured her as she struggled to help Arcann back into bed.
While Senya worked on disguising herself, she eyed Miwa warily. She watched the nurse unhook Arcann from the heartbeat monitor before issuing a short and quiet command to him. Senya couldn’t quite catch what the nurse had said, but she watched in disbelief as Arcann pretended to go back to sleep and allowed Miwa to throw a white sheet over him.
“What –” Senya started, eyes narrowing incredulously at the nurse.
“Don’t question me,” Miwa snapped back. “Help me move this to the hall.”
Senya did as she was told, helping push Arcann’s gurney while Miwa guided it out of the room and into the hallway. On the way out, she telekinetically grabbed the pack of supplies she and Arcann had been hoarding since the first night of their stay on Commenor. She followed Miwa silently as the charge nurse led them out the hallway and to the nearest turbolift.
Once they were in the turbolift, Miwa whispered, “We’re going to the morgue.”
Senya nodded wordlessly. This is just outrageous, she thought. It was a brazen move, but it might work. If she and Arcann suppressed their Force auras, she might be able to pass off as an overworked nurse and he just might be able to pass off as a corpse as long as nobody bothered lifting up the sheet. It would be something indeed if they succeeded fleeing this hospital right under Vaylin’s nose.
She and the nurse stood in silence until the turbolift doors opened to what looked like a service hallway. Instead of the sterile white flooring and blinding walls she’d gotten accustomed to, this hallway was all duracrete except for the piping that snaked in parallel on the walls and ceiling.
“I’m taking you to your shuttle,” Miwa told her.
Senya could sense Miwa’s nervousness and the split second of dread every time she peeked over a corner. While the nurse kept a poker face and walked with a sense of purpose, her anxiety was palpable. Senya felt it radiating off of her as if it was body heat on a sweltering day.
A large explosion rocked the corridor, showering the three of them with duracrete dust. The lights flickered ominously, threatening to leave them in darkness. Senya stared at Miwa, and the nurse’s horrified expression mirrored her own. “Hurry,” she urged the nurse, who instantly complied.
Senya and Miwa made their way through the mazelike service corridors, dodging debris dropping from the ceiling and careening into walls whenever the bombardment shook the hallways too strongly. “We’re almost there,” Miwa huffed, pulling on the gurney and running with Senya pushing from behind.
Miwa peered over the corner and instantly pulled her head back and pushed the bed backwards, the wheels rolling over Senya’s toes. Senya looked at her dubiously, but the blanched face of the nurse made her blood run cold. “They’re in the corridors,” she whispered to Senya hysterically. “Go back!”
The Knights hadn’t rounded the bend, but Senya knew that they’ve seen Miwa and sensed her distress, as she heard the familiar snap-hiss of lightsabers, the clanking of boots and quickened steps. She sensed Arcann’s unease as well, and prayed that he would stay still and not blow their cover.
Senya leaned down to his face and whispered to him, “Dont worry, I’ll handle it.”
Senya ignited her blade, and rounded the bend. The Knights didn’t have time to register that there was a nurse wielding a lightsaber before Senya lifted all four of them up with the Force and slammed them repeatedly against the duracrete wall. When they no longer cried out in shock and pain, she dropped all four of them to the floor, where they lay, unmoving.
Senya turned back to the nurse. “Let’s move,” she insisted.
Miwa didn’t need telling twice, resuming to pull the bed at the front while Senya returned to push the gurney from the back. “We’re almost there,” Miwa told her. “Just two more corners.”
They rounded those two corners without incident, but after the encounter with the Knights, Senya dreaded corners, even though they were in the least-visited part of the hospital.
“Your shuttle’s at the far end of the hangar,” Miwa told her breathlessly while she pressed a code into a keypad next to a large sliding durasteel door. Senya groaned inwardly. They were so close, yet they were still so far away.
The door hissed open, revealing a large hangar at half capacity. The large magnetic shield was untouched and intact, and beyond that, freedom awaited. Even with Vaylin’s forces storming the hospital, the hospital itself was large enough that it would take them time to deduce where their targets were. Nonetheless, Senya felt a sense of dread, which Miwa also picked up on. “Where is it?” Senya urged the nurse as the two women pushed the gurney as fast as they could past the various spacecraft.
“It’s the third one from the wall. See the golden tail?” Miwa pointed.
Senya looked up. She couldn’t see whatever Miwa saw, so that still meant that their shuttle was still a hundred or so metres away. She pushed on the gurney and ran as fast as she could, counting the metres they still had left to go as they closed onto the shuttle. They might’ve made it halfway across the hangar before Senya saw it; even in the dim lighting, the golden emblem of the Eternal Throne embossed onto the tail glittered.
Senya suddenly felt an extreme sense of danger, but before she could push the gurney any faster, there was a bright flash of light, a wave of heat, and she felt herself being thrown in the air. She was in the air for what seemed like a long time before falling and hitting something so hard that she blacked out.
The acrid smell of burning plastisteel assaulted Senya’s nostrils. She coughed, her ribs hurt, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Something wet was leaking from her nose, although it didn’t feel broken. She surveyed the destruction around her. The magnetic shield was destroyed, and a stray rocket or turbolaser blast had hit some of the parked spacecraft which have since gone up in flames. Without the shield, the cool nighttime breeze would periodically blow in, giving her a reprieve from the sweltering heat emanating from the burning rubble.
Senya desperately looked around for her shuttle. By some stroke of luck, their shuttle was still intact, the light of the flames turning the golden emblem on its tail into a fiery beacon for freedom. The shuttle wasn’t too far away, but with her injured ribs, Senya knew it was going to be an exhausting and painful walk to get there. Worse, Arcann and Miwa were nowhere to be seen.
Senya stood up as quickly as she could, and a stabbing pain in her right ankle made her stumble and fall down on all fours. She and took a few deep breaths to ready herself for another attempt at standing. Drops of blood appeared on the ground, and Senya wiped away at her nose, feeling some of the blood smear across her cheek.
Arcann needs you. Go find him, the voice in her head encouraged. Clutching her injured side and fighting the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her, Senya stood up carefully, putting her weight onto her left leg. She gingerly placed her right foot down on the ground and gradually moved it up and down to simulate a walking motion. She took a few experimental steps, realizing that she could still walk as long as she favoured her good leg. It’s not too bad, she told herself. Best case scenario is that I sprained it, and the worst case scenario is that it’s broken. But it’s something I can fix as long as I can get offworld.
Now she needed to find her son. “Arcann?” she called out weakly. Perhaps he and Miwa made it to the shuttle? She couldn’t see him nearby, although she felt his presence through the Force. She sensed that he was in pain. “Arcann?”
No reply. If there was, she couldn’t hear it over the crackling flames and the continued explosions from the bombardment. Senya hobbled as quickly as she could past the flaming wreckage. Through the shimmering heat waves, she spotted the gurney, lying on its side.
Senya worked her way into a limping run. Please let them be okay, she prayed to Scyva as she wobbled towards the gurney, eyes scanning for her son and the nurse.
It didn’t take her long to find Miwa’s crumpled body. Senya reached out with the Force, feeling for a flicker of life. Nothing.
A cursory glance at Miwa didn’t show any obvious signs of damage, but that meant she must’ve succumbed soon after the explosions started from a head injury or from internal bleeding. “I’m sorry,” Senya apologized guiltily to the nurse as she staggered past the body. Miwa had given her life in an attempt to get them offworld. She’d probably suspected, if she hadn’t already known, Senya and Arcann’s true identities and still helped them in spite of that.
Senya couldn’t do anything more for Miwa, but she can still do something for her son, if she could locate him. That way, the nurse's sacrifice wouldn't have been for naught.
She still couldn’t see Arcann anywhere. If Miwa’s body and the gurney were found relatively close together, her son couldn’t be too far away. She still felt his Force aura, so she knew he was alive. She gave a sorrowful glance at the dead nurse, gritted her teeth, and stumbled towards the shuttle, calling out her son’s name whenever she caught her breath.
She didn’t make it too far away from Miwa and the gurney when she smelled something familiar. It wasn’t fire or spilled fuel. It was blood. Hot and metallic, it hung around the air like a fog. But was it Arcann’s blood she smelled? She didn’t want to think about it, but given the strangely pristine state of Miwa’s corpse, it could very well be his.
And for her to be able to smell blood through her nosebleed and the the acrid scent of burning plastisteel, she knew there had to be a significant amount nearby. The shimmering heat waves made it hard to pinpoint the source of the smell, and the air around her scalded her throat whenever she inhaled. Still, she forced herself to breathe so that she had enough air in her lungs to yell out her son’s name. But there was still no answer. Did he actually make it to the shuttle?
She scanned the hangar feverishly for Arcann, but still to no avail. She pushed some of the rubble away with the Force, hoping to see her son on the other side.
Arcann wasn’t there; instead, she located a pool of semi-congealed blood and a smear leading towards the shuttle, as if someone bleeding profusely had tried crawling his way towards an escape.
“Arcann,” she cried out hoarsely as she stumbled as quickly as she could to the shuttle. She reached out for the sliding door, noticing fresh blood smeared on the side. It was as if Arcann had gripped onto it with a bloody hand for support while he climbed into the cabin. The door hissed open, and Senya was greeted with the snap-hiss of a golden lightsaber. Instinctively, she ignited her own lightsaber in response.
Her initial shock turned into her relief when she noticed that it was her son wielding the blade. But that relief soon turned into horror. Arcann sat on the floor of the shuttle in his own blood, and once he realized that he was staring at his mother and not some hostile stranger, he slumped over in agony. His lightsaber rolled out of his bloody palm, and his good hand went back to clutch at his chest in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. “The explosion –” he gasped.
“I know,” Senya answered sadly. Whatever healing progress he’d made in the last two weeks had been rendered moot. Arcann was of utmost importance to her; if he perished here in this hangar there really was no point in her living, especially if Vaylin didn’t want her at all. “Let me help –”
Arcann brushed her off. “Help me when we get offworld."
“You’re bleeding –”
“Go!” Arcann barked at her.
That was enough to get her to the pilot’s seat. She activated the cloaking device and eased the shuttle out of the ruined hangar and away into the night, putting as much distance as she could between their shuttle and the carnage behind them. When they were far away enough from the hospital, she guided the shuttle skyward, stealthily flying past the Eternal Fleet ships that were already in the atmosphere.
The bulk of the Eternal Fleet covered the space around Commenor in grids, firing down at the planet. Only a few were in the atmosphere itself. She was almost out of the atmosphere, and in the distance, she spied Vaylin’s flagship.
Vaylin must’ve sensed their presence, as Senya felt unrestrained rage and sadistic glee permeating the insides of the shuttle. Arcann sensed it too, and she heard him wheeze in a breath. A light started blinking on the comms, and Senya wisely chose not to answer it. She knew it was Vaylin, but didn't want to give her and the slicers any information on the frequency she currently used.
“She’s headed this way,” Senya breathed, watching the flagship turn towards them. The Fleet continued to fire on Commenor, making it difficult for her to find gaps in between the ships to jump into hyperspace.
Senya cautiously piloted the shuttle out of the atmosphere and into space. The turbolaser fire was too thick for her to be fly the shuttle safely between the ships. But then she had an idea. If I can dive down quickly enough, I can escape the Fleet by going under them. “Arcann, get yourself to a seat and strap yourself in.”
Senya waited until she heard a ‘click’ from Arcann’s seatbelt behind her, and she pushed the accelerator to the maximum and pushed the controls as far down as they could go. Their shuttle dove steeply, avoiding the bulk of the Fleet. Senya sharply pulled the controls up and the shuttle came out of its steep dive. Pulling it out of the dive took longer than she thought. The Eternal Fleet grids were now above their shuttle, and Senya knew it would take time for the ships to rotate the turrets to fire at their shuttle. She pushed the accelerator to the maximum, praying that the shuttle could withstand the strain. Behind her, she heard the renewed sounds of battle from turbolaser fire, but the Fleet wasn’t firing at them.
“The Outlander,” Arcann coughed.
Senya sensed her too, the single bright Force aura unmistakeably belonging to her former Commander. But when she concentrated, she noticed there was also a dark undercurrent that ebbed beneath Mirreah’s Force signature, and she couldn’t decipher what it was or who it belonged to. She wasn’t about to stay here long enough to find out.
What did matter to Senya right now was that the Alliance commander had just come out of hyperspace right into the thick of battle, so Vaylin would be her main focus and not Arcann. And if they didn’t escape into hyperspace soon, they’d get caught up in an omnicannon blast along with most of the Fleet. “Let them take care of each other,” Senya told her son as she pulled the lever next to the controls. She watched the stars elongate for a split second before the windshield blacked over as their shuttle escaped into hyperspace.
Senya pressed a button on the dashboard, and the galactic map illuminated the insides of the shuttle. She had absolutely no idea which direction they were going. She just cared that she and her son were as far away from Mirreah and Vaylin as possible.
But where should they go? There weren’t many choices close by, and Arcann’s injury prevented them from traveling too far from Commenor.
Senya zoomed in on the galactic map. Cona and Celegia had planetary conditions incompatible with human life. Telti housed Skytrooper factories, at least they did the last time she checked. Hok was heavily controlled by the Eternal Empire due to its crystal mines, and Carida had been converted into an offworld training ground for Exarchs and Knights training to be Exarchs.
In hindsight, she shouldn’t have traveled to Commenor due to the Eternal Empire’s industrial interests being nearby, but Arcann needed treatment and it was the only hospital she knew where doctors were willing to turn their heads the other way and do things off the books. So she had taken the gamble, and it seems like she’d lost.
Manaan was a tempting but suicidal choice. It was so close to Commenor that they could get there in a day, and it had the best medical facilities the galaxy had to offer. However, the Eternal Empire held onto Manaan obsessively since it was the galaxy’s sole supplier of kolto, and the planet remained under the iron grip of Eternal Empire control despite the Alliance’s repeated attempts to liberate it. There was absolutely no way that she and Arcann could sneak in past all of Vaylin’s patrols, get medical treatment from the Selkath, and escape without being noticed.
Humbarine was an ecumenopolis just like Coruscant and Carratos, and it lay next to Commenor on the Trellen Trade Route. She and Arcann could get there in less than day. The entire planet was a city; there should be enough hospitals where she can get Arcann medical help, and afterwards they could disappear into the crowds of refugees. But it would be teeming with Republic, Alliance, and Vaylin’s forces.
Really, Humbarine’s the only choice. Sighing, Senya entered the coordinates into the navicomp, knowing that both Vaylin and Mirreah would be expecting her to go to there after escaping Commenor. I’ll take those chances. The skirmish over Commenor would keep them occupied for the time being.
With their new destination figured out, she turned her attention to Arcann. He looked up her and groaned in pain. She limped over to him and helped him to his feet. She ignored her protesting ankle when she shifted his weight onto her, and they slowly hobbled over to the sleeping quarters together, her free hand placed against the walls for support.
The medical supplies she’d bought on Firrerre were still in the bunk next to his, much to her relief. They were of critical importance now, since the pack of supplies she and Arcann had been saving up back at the hospital had been lost in the explosion at the hangar. She pushed the blanket away with the Force, and gently helped her son lie down on the bed.
“Water. Please,” Arcann gasped, to which Senya gladly obliged. She helped him sit up again and gently tilted the glass against his mouth. Arcann drained the glass thirstily, and she fetched another glass for him.
After her son drained the second glass, Senya helped him lie down again. The blood on his shirt had congealed, but looking at the colour, she could tell that he was still bleeding slowly. “Can you roll up your shirt?” Senya asked, pointing to the blood. “I’ll see what I can do to patch you up.”
Arcann slowly rolled up the fabric, and she examined at the wound. The explosion had opened up the stitches, and there was so much blood that she wasn’t sure how much internal damage was dealt. Regardless, the first thing to do was to clean in and around the wound, so Senya went to wet a towel and some of the gauze under the tap and returned to softly wipe away at dried and congealing blood. Once that was done, she grabbed the medisensor lying on the bunk.
The medisensor stated her that her son’s chest gash was the only pressing concern. He’d been extremely lucky to escape with only the reopened chest wound. Senya was sure she’d sported rib fractures, a broken ankle, and possible internal damage that might become apparent after her adrenaline levels tanked. And even she considered herself lucky. Miwa outright died.
But Senya could worry about herself later. She tore open the antiseptic wipes and sniffed for the telltale scent of alcohol. She’d taken care to purchase non-alcohol wipes, but even so, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t sting when applied to the wound. “This could hurt,” Senya warned as she started dabbing around the slash.
She watched his face, waiting for it to contort in agony as she cleaned the gash. Luckily for him, they didn’t sting. She used the Force to probe for hidden injuries and heal what she could on his chest, and when she couldn’t heal him anymore, she placed kolto patches over the gash and secured them with bandages wrapped around his torso and medical tape.
“It should be good now,” she told her son as she helped him lie down. Using the damp towel, she delicately wiped away at the grime and blood, half-expecting Arcann to protest in discomfort when she cleaned the scarred side of his face.
“I’m sorry,” Arcann mumbled to her, "for yelling at you earlier."
She kissed his forehead. “It’s alright, son,” she said softly. She wasn’t sure what he was sorry about, and it took her a few more seconds before she realized he was referring to their desperate escape from the hangar. She gently picked up the blanket from the floor and placed it carefully over her son. After she’d tucked him in, she picked up the medisensor and waved it over his sleeping form.
He’s stable for now. Now you need to patch yourself up.
Senya slowly sat down on the bunk facing Arcann’s. The medisensor confirmed her suspicions: she had fractured ribs and a broken ankle, but they weren’t injuries she couldn’t fix with the Force. At least I don’t have internal bleeding, she thought as she clutched her side and slowly imagined the Force knitting fractured bone together.
She took in slow and deep breaths, feeling the tightness in her chest disappear with each exhale. Once that was done, she reached down for her right foot and tried easing the boot off of it without aggravating her broken ankle. Normally the boot would’ve easily slipped right off, but the swelling must’ve set in already. Senya winced as she pulled off her boot past the swollen joint.
Her ankle hadn’t started to bruise yet, but it was red and swollen. Senya imagined torn tendons reattaching and bones mending, and she felt most of the ankle pain ebb away. Unfortunately, the swelling would still take time to subside but she could walk again without much difficulty.
She made a beeline for the refresher. Senya’s reflection in the mirror caught her attention. Her face was black with grime, and her nosebleed had stopped sometime during their escape, leaving a trickle of dried blood that ended up in a dessicated pool on her upper lip. There was a blood smear from her nose to her cheek. She sported purple bruises on her left cheek and eyebrow. The blue-grey scrubs she wore were blackened with ash and peppered with specks of dried blood.
Senya exhaled and turned on the tap. She splashed cool water on her face and neck, relishing the feeling as she did so and not caring that the water had seeped into the collar of her shirt. She watched the water in the sink turn from clear to brown and then to dark grey before changing back to clear. Once she’d cleaned up, she took a towel and fetched the cold compresses from the kitchenette. Back in the sleeping quarters, she fashioned herself a crude ankle brace with the towel, cold compresses, and some medical tape. She leaned back to admire her handiwork which was a marvel of creative engineering. Necessity bred ingenuity. The brace wasn't there to support a broken ankle now, but she needed the swelling to subside so she could slip on her boots without trouble. Now she could try to sleep.
Senya removed the soiled scrubs, dimmed the lights, and laid down on her bunk. She was in a dire need of a shower, but sleep was more important to her right now. She pulled the thin blanket over her fatigued body, and closed her eyes.
But despite the adrenaline crash, her body refused to let her doze off. She knew she’d need all the energy she could muster once they arrived on Humbarine, and even as she tried again and again, her body wouldn't let her rest. She couldn’t sleep for now, but at least that meant she could enjoy the small comfort of watching Arcann sleep and dream instead.