Three Years Ago…
Admiral Galaktar’s fighter launched into a 1080 spin under the bow of Lord Destructor’s dreadnought, firing laser blasts along its flank as he easily evaded every counter-attack. Red streaks passed within what seemed like inches of the hull as the intrepid hero zigged, zagged, wove, and dodged between them. Seconds later, he zoomed away from the ship as large explosions tore it to shreds.
A voice boomed in the fighter’s cockpit from an open communication line, “Curse you Galaktar you may have won the battle but I will win the war I will return and Coruscant will be doomed!”
An escape pod flashed away from the ship as a final blast ripped the black and spiky capital ship apart from the inside. Within the cockpit of the fighter, a uniformed man with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek smiled. His perfect teeth glinted in the light of the system’s star. “Trust me Destructor we will be ready. We will not bow and we will not break. The people of the Republic are like that, because we possess… indomitable spirit!”
The credits rolled in the foreground as Galaktar landed to the cheers of his crew. I tented my fingers, waiting for the next episode to start. Yes, I watch cartoons, and it does wonders for calming me down and letting me think. Some people choose meditation. I choose Admiral Galaktar III: The Bagutaki Wars.
I adjusted my thighs on the bed, still getting used to the idea that my legs just… ended. The kolto treatment had smoothed over the surgical scars into perfect little nubs. According to the nurses, I was never going to be able to have cybernetics. The installation was too much of a risk. Even the initial surgery only had a 40% chance of success, but I would have died without it, so the choice was obvious. Cybernetics were considered elective in my case. And nobody, not even me, could think of a reason I’d need to walk again.
“Heeeeh~,” I said, involuntarily. Another thing that would take some getting used to. Words weren’t as easy anymore. I had to force them out, or I just made noises. Not that anybody was around to listen to me most of the time. “Hn. Hn.”
The next episode started with the typical bombastic intro song, a pop number written by some Corellian band I’d never heard of. Of course, after watching the first two Admiral Galaktar series, I’d memorized the whole thing.
“~Ommmwar fir jus-tisssss~,” I sang, trying to get my tongue to cooperate. “~Ommmwar fir peez~.”
I must have gone through two or three more episodes by the time a nurse came to check on me. I was too busy swinging an imaginary blade through the air to notice her come in. My favorite character, Liasa the Gray Blade, was in this episode. She was Admiral Galaktar’s on-again off-again lover, a cool swordswoman with an elegant curved vibroblade.
“Someone’s having fun,” the nurse said as she set a container of water on my bedside table. I jumped a bit, but recovered quickly, and took the cup she offered me.
“Shesho kriffin’ coo-ahl,” I said after a long sip. “Wash dis.”
Five Bagutaki had cornered Liasa inside a shady cantina on some Outer Rim world. The gruff, black leather armored assailants drew axes and blasters on her, laughing their gravelly laughs as their heavily tattooed leader taunted the wandering warrior. “Well well if it isn’t Liasa the Gray Loser come for a drink have you well I’m sorry to say it will be your last because we’re going to kill you! Get her!”
Liasa calmly placed her open palm on the handle of her vibroblade and drew it slowly from the sash at her waist. “How can you kill me…” she said in a sultry-yet-stern tenor. “…when you’re already dead?”
SLASH SLASH SLASH
The Bagutaki staggered, their motion halted. After a moment, blood fountained from various wounds on their bodies, and they collapsed in a heap. The leader’s jaw dropped, and he ran screaming out the door. Liasa slashed the air, clearing the blood from her blade, and turned to the bartender.
“Ah’ll take dat drink… ta goooo! Heeeeh~!” I beamed, and the nurse smiled politely. She didn’t quite get the appeal, but that was okay. I didn’t expect her to. I took another sip of water and then placed the cup on my end table. “Tank yooo.”
“You’re quite welcome, young lady. And if I may say so, your form was quite good. Maybe there’s a bit of a fighting spirit in you!” The nurse copied the data from my biomonitor to a datapad and turned to leave by the time I managed to eke out a reply.
“Ah’ll be een bettuh den her onze… ah geh out!”
The nurse said nothing, pausing only to smile at me before she closed the door to my room. Banter was one thing, but Izali-Copral was a terminal diagnosis. She couldn’t look me in the eye and tell me I was going to get out of here. Even my own parents thought I would never leave this room again.
But they were wrong. Somehow I knew that I would make it out of here. It was just a feeling, really, but for some reason I thought I could trust it. One day, I would walk out of here, on cybernetic legs… and I would pick up a sword of my very own.
“Hn.” With nothing better to do, I went back to watching my show, and practicing my imaginary sword swings.