(Originally published in 2008, this was my first ever erotic fiction piece. Thanks for reading!)
"Now secure a sinex drop reading."
"A sinex drop reading of less than 2000 degrees with an accompanying loss of greater than 350 degrees since admission may indicate....?"
Luke Skywalker, general of the rebel alliance, floated in the bacta like a lifeless doll. Resting in a tranquil sleep, dreams came to him out of the dark, muddled, and confusing. Hazy images were his only conscious thoughts.
"See if you can get a reading on tactal retention. Try to estimate it without a meter reading."
There was no sense of space, or time, or being. Luke was simply an observer in this dream world. Helpless to the overpowering visions formulating in his mind. This wasn't the first time he had experienced these dreams.
"Be careful now."
"Um, let me see..."
"Hurry up."
Luke had many dreams, like any other being in the galaxy. Some meaningless, and cluttered. Some dreams were distorted memories of his past on Tatooine. Sometimes he had nightmares. Krayt dragons, and womprats attacking him; nemesis' of his childhood. And of course, like any red-blooded male... some dreams were fantasies of sexual nature. And they were more often than not about a certain Alderaani princess... many was the night he woke up with a pool of cum next to him after dreaming of Leia Organa, leader of the Rebel Alliance. ...And then, there were the other dreams.
"4732?"
"Too low."
"Control on."
"No, evidently you reversed the polarity on his lobal travel. Secure another sinex drop."
There was something different about the these dreams. They weren't visions of something imagined, or something that he had experienced in the past, or wanted to experience. Yet, they were becoming more and more clear each time he saw them. But if what he saw wasn't the past, and it wasn't something happening in the present...
"4000 degrees is usually the point of...?"
"Vocasity."
"No, tetanty."
There it was. Just for a second. Then blackness. Was the dream over? Then another glimpse. Was that Han? Chewie was there... yelling... screaming. Han should do something shouldn't he? ...No. His hands are bound. Leia. Do something! ...She can't. Surrounded by stormtroopers. Blackness takes over again. There is nothing. After a moment Han is there again. He is being lowered into... something evil. Something painful... something cold. Someone do something! Han is almost completely out of sight. Then, like a hammer of death, a ----*CLICK*
FX-7, the MedTech droid extended its electro probe towards the side of the bacta tank. The suction sealed a hold onto the thermo-glass and gave a small, yet harsh electrical jolt to the tank. Bacta of course conducts electricity even better than water, and so it was easy to awaken General Skywalker from his hibernating state. His eyes flashed open, and he became aware of his surroundings. There were people watching him. Leia. Threepio. And Han! He was alive. Safe. There were no stormtroopers, or blasters leveled at anyone. It was only a dream. Yet a very real dream at that.
"He looks more pale than a Twi'lek who hasn't been outside for 20 years," Han quipped.
Leia could only watch. There was Luke, suspended in a pool of slime, breathing out of tubes, totally helpless. She hated to see him like this. When she had first met him, he was such a young, exuberant man, full of energy. He was always there with a fresh attitude, and a willingness to sacrifice what was needed for a good cause. But did she ever guess those sacrifices would go this far? Would he even recover from this?
Still, there was something about him now... something that made a part of Leia more warm towards him. It was almost enjoyable to see an attractive man completely weakened in this state. Not in a sadistic way. No, Leia would never get enjoyment out of the suffering of others. But rather that Luke needed help. Hers, if she decided to give it. And of course she would do anything for him. She cared about him very much. In an almost...
sisterly
way.
"Hey Princess," Han interrupted her thoughts. "He'll be fine."
Han Solo. Pirate. Smuggler. Law breaker. And the polar opposite of Luke. Besides the fact that they hated the Empire, they had nothing else in common. Han was nothing of a weak man, and even if he was in Luke's shoes, he wouldn't show it. He had pride, and was in no way ready to show any vulnerability. In fact... that was exactly what he and Leia shared in common. For she too was much too prideful to admit her feelings. And her feelings towards Han were...
"I know. "
"The bacta in these tanks are regenerative growth stimuli," Han explained. "Anything that's been damaged, or can be healed is usually fully revived in days, sometimes even improving and expanding normal living tissueβ"
"Han, I know," the princess cut him short. "I just want him back on his feet again."
Threepio, who had been listening the whole time, waiting for his chance to chime in, took a step closer to the couple. "Mistress Leia, if I may say so, Master Luke's chances of full recovery are very good. Approximately two point four nine threeβ"
"...To one. We know, golden rod," Han finished. "But it takes a whole lot more than numbers to win. In my experience there's no such thing as odds. You're lucky, or you ain't. You've got skill, or you don't. And Luke here's got luck, skill, and the force. Something I'm betting your compu-processor can't even begin to estimate."
Threepio tilted his head, almost saying something, but thought better of it, and walked away, muttering something about Captain Solo's odds not being so good.
"Shouldn't he be recharging?" Leia remarked in a sarcastic way.
Han smirked. "If I had my way, he should be at the bottom of a sink hole on Utapau."
"Well," Leia poked him in the chest, "It's a good thing that Threepio is Luke's droid to take care of, and not yours." And grinning to herself, she turned away towards the exit.
"Hey, you know how that walking piece of metal and gears is
still
Luke's? That's thanks to me!" She made no reply.
"And you're welcome!"
--
As Luke was drawn out of the tank, the breathing apparatus was removed by the Rebel medical examiners. He was weak, barely able to stand up. Apparently the top of the bacta tank was at the top of the second level, because he was standing on it now. The walls of course were all ice, and gave off a chilling draft that made Luke shiver uncontrollably. But the examiners rushed him over to a hydro-spray that cleaned him of all the sticky bacta, and afterward he was immediately dried off with warm towels.
The dry warmth was welcome, but in his post-traumatic state, he started to lose his orientation. The room seemed to dance all around him. The lights were a blur of motion.
"Stress category."
"Triple three! Triple three! Easy..."
It was nausea. He was losing it. His body had endured so much; it could only stay conscious long enough before it again needed to rest.
"What happened?"
"See if you can get a reading on tactal retention. Try to estimate it without a meter reading."
Mental and physical shutdown. This was it. Blackness overcame him once more.
"It's very rare to see a nurl bond dissolve like that."
--
His next conscious thoughts were whiteness. Whiteness all around him. It was better than the blackness of his dreams, he thought. Because he couldn't see any particular thing with his eyes, he concentrated on his other sensory aids.
Smell... bacta still lingering on his skin, oxygen purifiers, fresh bedding... wherever he was, it was a new place; just built. Of course, because virtually all of the Rebel base on Hoth was brand new. After fleeing the planet moon of Yavin, the Rebels had chosen the icy planet because of its obscurity, and ability to almost completely shadow heat traces to scanners. They had hoped that the frigid temperatures would cloak their most vulnerable asset: The shield generators. Time would tell.
Touch... he knew he was lying down on a cot or a bed of some type. He wore something soft, something warm. It felt like a medical robe. He gave himself a quick examination for injuries... No, nothing broken, no bleeding anywhere... though something felt different. He felt he had
grown
somehow... he couldn't place it. But before he could, he noticed something on his face. What was it? He touched it. It was some kind of skin-like covering that rested on the injured half of his face. It was soothing, numbing the pain of his scars.
*WIRRR*
Sound...
2-1B's (Referred to by the "Rebels as Too-Onebee") servomotors came to life and its medical claw brushed away his hands from his face. Then it grabbed a corner of the bacta mask and slowly pealed it away. Luke could hear the soft crackling as the adhesive tore away. He expected it to be painful, but it was no more so than a patch-aid. He could hear 2-1B again as it disposed of the mask. The atmosphere of the room surrounded him. Information readouts hummed. Medical equipment pulsed. Then, he heard a
*WHOOSH*