Will of The Force (Star Wars / Worm)

 

Anakin stared at Newter’s head sticking out of the wall, his mind still filled with the anger he felt after fighting with Lung. Pushing aside the sudden appearance of the strange human as he approached the recent battle-zone, he stretched his senses and truly focused on the girl instead of just verifying her presence.

Dinah’s mind was muddled, flooded with pain but also a sense of confusion and euphoria, she was under the influence of some substance. Eyes flashing in anger, he asked. “What have you done?”

“Dude, calm down,” Newter said, swallowing hard. “The kid collapsed the ceiling on top of herself, but we managed to dig her out and she’s perfectly fine.”

“I hope so, for your sake, mercenary,” without saying anything else, Anakin started marching towards where he felt Dinah.

“Well, not perfectly fine,” Newter hurriedly corrected. “But she’s in no danger and it’s nothing Panacea can’t fix… Shit!”

The lizard-like parahumans had told him he’d have to find a way inside the building and Anakin could see the front door, as well as two windows, were blocked by a metallic wall. He felt no desire to waste minutes trying to find an intact path. Instead, he started walking while glaring at the wall in front of him.

Without gestures, he grabbed at the Force with sheer willpower and smashed the steel in front of him with a Force Push, the blow strong enough to pierce a hole through the wall. Without stopping, he peeled the metal back enough to create an entrance, the material releasing a tortured cry as it curled upon itself, bending unnaturally to give way. Trampling over the debris, he walked inside.

Anakin took five steps inside the building and stopped, his back straight. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

He had not used the Force to find a path; he had not guided it or asked for its help. No, he had dictated to it, bending it to his will for convenience. Anakin wasn’t a Jedi, he recognized that particular role was not his calling, but he had no desire to be a Sith, to act with such selfishness.

More than that, he’d need to let go of the Dark Side if he wished to heal whatever wound Dinah had taken. Force Healing was fully a Light Side power, one beyond him as he was now.

It was not easy. Even now, anger came so easily to him… and was so hard to let go. Still, his fingers slowly relaxed, his fists uncurling as he released his feeling into the Force just as he had been taught so long ago.

Newter gave him time, either recognizing his need for silence or too intimidated to interfere/ Whatever the case, Anakin appreciated the thirty seconds of quiet.

Opening his eyes again, he felt his muscles unlocking, the adrenaline leaving his body. Releasing a breath, he asked the Force for guidance and it answered, easily.

“Ah… like, can you not destroy the rest of the house, please?” Newter awkwardly asked, wisely keeping his distance. “I mean, I guess it’s a total loss already, but I think we’d all prefer for it to collapse after we left.”

“Very well, I’ll endeavor to contain myself,” Anakin said, striding through the house towards where the Force guided him.

“Right, thanks a lot. I’m gonna go back to watching the area then,” with a nod, Newter walked through another wall, leaving Anakin to find his way alone.

The path he took was no longer a straight line but, now that he was a little calmer, he recognized the delay was minimal, and it did give him the time necessary to fully balance himself.

Stepping over the body of a deformed human dressed like a clown, he squeezed through an opening on a collapsed doorway and found himself in front of a large hole on the floor. For a second, he considered finding another way or resorting to the Force before snorting and leaping through.

He had been locked inside his armor, his movement range restricted for more than half his life. But now such inflexibility was no longer a concern; it would seem getting over his habits would still take some time.

Finally, he heard conversation coming from a room ahead of him.

“You think he managed to repel Lung?” Gregor asked in a conversational tone, as if he didn’t really care about the result but was just curious.

“Depends, he seemed really confident, but how much of that was arrogance and how much was genuinely competence is anyone’s guess,” Faultline answered in a strained voice.

“So, why did we even take the damn job?” a younger, female voice angrily asked.

“The girl is valuable and she’s with us,” Gregor answered.

“Yes, even if our employer was vastly overestimating himself, we still get what we want,” Faultline commented, then grunted in pain. “The girl owes us, that won’t change even if Lung killed him. In a way, that would actually be better for us.”

“Apologies then, it seems I will have to disappoint you,” Anakin said walking inside.

Looking around, he took in the entire situation. The room had suffered a lot of damage, but the debris had been swept towards a corner and the furniture was mostly intact.

Faultline sat in a comfortable chair, a bandage wrapped around her head under her mask. Gregor was still tidying up the room while Labyrinth and Spitfire sat together, the younger girl combing some debris from the blonde’s long hair.

Finally, his eyes found Dinah lying on top of a single bed, her head was covered in dust and small scratches, her eyes unfocused and a blanket resting on top of her. For a full second, he just stared at her chest going up and down and felt a weight leaving his shoulders.

The girl was alright. Wounded, but alive and in no risk of dying. Then his eyes caught sight of the bandages wrapped around her arm. They were hidden below the blanket, but he recognized a serious wound when he saw it.

He almost struck out, his mind spreading out and grabbing at the Force around the room, his presence flooding the room like a blanket of dread that caused everyone to shiver.

With an effort of will, he took it all back, releasing the Force slowly, almost as if letting it flow through his fingers. He would still destroy the ones responsible, dismember them slowly and twist their…

Taking another breath, he looked away from her wounds and towards the mercenaries.

Faultline shivered again and looked back at him, noticing some fire damage on his clothes, but also his lack of wounds. “I’m not disappointed,” she shrugged, her voice without a hint of remorse at what she had said. “Yes, in the long run, having a Precog in our team would make us much more effective, but she’s too young. I also prefer to have you alive to pay me back.”

“Understandable. What happened?” Anakin asked, his eyes focusing back on Dinah now that he calmed himself.

“We didn’t expect to face clones fully willing to kill themselves,” the mercenary leader explained, adjusting her place in the chair. “It’s much harder to fight off someone if they don’t fear death. The girl ended up collapsing the ceiling on top of herself to prevent getting taken away. After that, we continued to fight them for a while, preventing the Travelers from digging her out until they ran off about 10 minutes ago.”

Sitting on the bed, Anakin laid a gentle hand on Dinah’s head, a wave of Force Healing washing her body, taking care of the most superficial wounds and starting to work on the worst of the damage. “And her wounds?”

“She protected herself with a mattress, but she still got bruised and her right hand was crushed,” Faultline said. “Newter gave her a dose to stop the pain and we did our best, but she’ll need a hospital at the very least.”

Carefully, Anakin peeled the covers from over the youngling, fully revealing the well made bandages. The mercenaries had cleaned it well and, through the Force, he could see the girl wasn’t in any danger, but he could also see her arm had been absolutely destroyed.

Focusing his efforts on the arm, Anakin frowned under his mask. Force Healing accelerated and empowered the body’s own healing process, but the damage he faced was too much and his skill too lacking. He wouldn’t be able to restore her arm, not for a long time.

Exploring the damage with his senses, he saw the bones had been crushed, the flesh twisted and a lot of dust had gotten into the wound. He could use the Force to pull the inorganic material out and close the wounds, but not restore the arm. Even with hours to work on it, he knew the arm would cause her constant pain.

Doing the best he could, he looked at his own, now intact, hand and sighed. How… ironic.

From his understanding, Panacea had fully re-grown his limbs, restoring his lungs and any of his burns in less than a day, a feat only matched by some of the most powerful legends from the era of the old Republic and Sith Empire.

Unfortunately, she was unlikely to be free to heal the girl anytime soon and, while he could force her, it was not something he wished to do.

Well, being truthful with himself, that had been his first instinct, but he was still extremely thankful to the parahumans for healing him. Even as Vader, forcing her to heal the youngling would leave a bitter taste in his mouth, much less now.

Instead, he pulled his lightsaber to his hand and ignited the blade, the red light crackling in complaint as its energy started to run low. The mercenaries stepped back, but he ignored them.

Using Alter Damage to diminish its power, he focused the Force on the lightsaber, diminishing its width and completely stopping the crackling. Finally, when it was fully under his power, he amputated the limb at the elbow, the weapon doing only minimal damage.

Turning off the blade, he refocused his efforts, accelerating the healing as much as he could until a scar started to form. With his power, no blister formed in the area, but he wasn’t good enough to fully re-grow the skin in only a few minutes. Still, the pain should be minimal if she kept from moving the wound.

“How long will your companion’s drug last? I wish to speak with the girl.” he asked, turning towards the mercenaries.

“Usually, it lasts several hours,” Gregor answered. Releasing his broom against a wall, he crossed his arms and looked at Dinah with concerned eyes. “You sure you want her awake?”

“The pain will be minimal,” Anakin answered. “Non-existent if you could create some local anesthetic.”

Gregor nodded, still giving his lightsaber a wary glance. Still, he came closer and released a transparent substance over Dinah’s arm. “Just spread it over the area, it will numb any feelings there for an hour or two.”

Using his gloved hand, Anakin massaged the substance, making sure to spread it evenly over her arm and leaving it numb to the pain.

“So, did you at least beat the dragon?” Spitfire asked. “Don’t tell me you had to run away after what you said in the meeting.”

“The fight was slightly more complicated than I first expected,” Anakin answered, concentrating on eliminating any strange substances from her body. “Regardless, I have eliminated Lung and Oni-Lee; it is likely the PRT has dealt with the bomber.”

“When you say eliminated…?” Faultline asked.

“I offered him mercy, he did not take it.”

“Ding-dong the dragon’s dead. Great, and you got the suicide bomber too!” the young girl said, trying to make light of the situation, but her voice cracked, betraying her nervousness.

“Regardless, you hired us to keep the girl from getting kidnapped, we fulfilled the contract,” Faultline said, pushing herself up and stumbling, Gregor steadying her with a hand. “If you don’t mind, we’ll be leaving before the PRT arrives. Don’t know why they haven’t shown up yet.”

“As I said, my battle with Lung was slightly more complicated than expected,” Anakin said, his thumb gently caressing Dinah’s forehead as he finished purging the drugs from her system. “They were also assaulting the terrorist’s location.”

“Right… just how much damage did you cause?” Gregor asked.

“Enough,” Anakin shrugged. Looking up, he glanced towards the PRT base and gathered Dinah’s sleeping body in his arms. “Still, you are correct. I sense we do not have much time and have no desire to engage the PRT or the Protectorate again.“

Everyone nodded at that and Faultline touched her communicators. “Bring the van closer, we’re leaving.”

“Right away, boss,” Newter answered.

Getting up, Anakin cradled the youngling against his chest and made sure her wounded arm wasn’t touching anything. “Faultline, your services were adequate, I will have your payment ready in three days.”

Faultline nodded, “Right, always nice doing business with a professional.”

For a second, Anakin watched the team leave, Labyrinth being gently guided through the building as her power opened a straight line path towards the exit. In his arms, Dinah grunted and squirmed, forcing him to hold her arm in place.

Eventually, she blinked several times and opened her eyes, staring right up at him for a few seconds before regaining clarity. “You’re back,” she said, her head resting against his chest as her whole body relaxed against him. Lifting her free hand, she squeezed his arm. “I knew you’d make it.”

“… You buried yourself,” Anakin said after a few seconds.

“I knew I’d be fine, I saw it,” Dinah smiled up at him, a cheeky tone in her voice.

“You lost an arm.”

“What?” she said, taking a second to register his words. Lifting her right hand, she stared at the stump with a conflicted face. “But… you can heal it, right?”

“I cannot,” he shook his head, starting to walk out of the building with her still in his arms. “To me, Force Healing is still a new power, re-growing a limb remains beyond my ability.”

“Oh,” she said, stunned. For a full minute, she just stared at the stump, her face going through several emotions and settling on hope. A second later, she winced and tried to grab at her head with the missing limb.

“What?”

“Ninety-two point seventy one percent chance Panacea agrees to re-grow the arm, it's fine.”

“Star’s end!” Anakin cursed, was this what Obi-Wan felt every time he crashed a ship or acted recklessly? Ashoka had buried herself too –which really wasn’t helping with the entire situation– but at least she had been a competent Force user by then. “I would prefer you did not lose any more limbs regardless of how easily they can be regenerated.”

“I wasn’t supposed to lose it,” she grumbled, letting her head hang back on his arms, her mind still not fully registering the missing limb. “It was supposed to be fine, but then I missed a shot and tried to correct it, so I didn’t pull my arm back fast enough.”

“Impressive, your recklessness is most impressive,” Anakin glared at the girl, causing her to wince.

“Sorry, I… it was the only way I could see to keep them from taking me,” Dinah explained.

“I did not hire Faultline because I feared being unable to rescue you. I hired her and her mercenaries to prevent you from being hurt,” Anakin said, trampling over pieces of wood and debris from the ceiling. “Burying yourself under several buildings defeats the purpose of keeping you safe.”

“Right, it’s just… I wanted to be the one to do it?” she looked up at him as if begging him to understand and, in a way, Anakin did. “I didn’t want to be helpless again.”

Looking ahead, Anakin ducked under a broken support beam and thought about his own life. He had always hated how helpless he was, how weak. The first time he ever felt pride was when he won that podrace and, really, that had been far more dangerous than a collapsing house.

Now, decades later, he could also recognize he had competed in that race for almost exactly the same reason. Yes, it had been to help Qui-Gon, to help Padme, to help his mother and earn their freedom but, deep down, he had known there were other ways. The podrace had simply been the one that allowed HIM to do it.

Stepping out into the city, Anakin paused, the Force calling his attention to something. Glancing aside, he adjusted his grip on Dinah and extended his hand, pulling the Droid from under some rubble, the small, round casing coming to rest on his extended palm.

“Hal!” Dinah shouted, again trying to grab it with her missing limb before changing to her left hand.

The droid released a sad ‘beep’ from his busted speakers, its body moving slightly from side to side but too damaged to take flight again. Smiling, Dinah put the droid against her belly and laughed.

Seeing that the girl was fully awake and in control, Anakin released her back into the ground. Dinah steadied herself, her remaining hand grabbing his cape for support and almost dropping the droid held under her arm.

With a sigh, Anakin patted her dust covered hair. “I understand. You did well,” Looking up at him, Dinah’s face turned into a proud smile. So he promptly continued. “I hope you understand this means I will be doubling your training.”

“What?!”

“You wish to not be helpless again? Very well, I will make sure you are not, even if you have to be bedridden with muscle aches for a few months,” Anakin said, starting to walk away from the building. “Hopefully, by the time you have enough energy to worry me again; you will also have enough skill to avoid dismemberment.”

“… Can I at least get a laser sword?”

Anakin just looked down at her for a second. “It is called a lightsaber and no. I said my goal was to help you avoid dismemberment, not make it easier.”

Guided by the Force, Anakin found an old, abandoned car and, with a gentle use of Force Telekinesis, unlocked its door and turned the vehicle on, the ignition took some effort, but it was still capable of working.

Sitting beside him, Dinah had some trouble putting the seatbelt on without banging her stump, but the substance Gregor had created made sure she wasn’t in any pain.

The sun was just rising over the city and the streets were quiet, lacking both the usual pedestrian movement and the explosions of the last few days. Anakin hoped the Protectorate had been able to deal with Bakuda but, if not, he would just have to deal with it later, the parahuman’s bombs were dangerous, but not all that different from thermal detonators.

Coil and the Travelers were another problem he’d have to deal with. No, problem was too strong a word, they were annoyances, inconveniences that he only recognized for the danger they presented to Dinah.

As for how to deal with them? Anakin was conflicted. In a way, he had always been direct and destroying them appealed to him but, on the other, Dinah had just told him she wanted to do things herself.

If they did not prove too bothersome, he was tempted to let her. Even if she did not do it with her own hands, her precognition should allow her to defeat them with the right training. Anakin may have always been a frontline general, but he recognized there were other ways of doing things.

Really, he’d have been a complete fool if he didn’t, not after interacting with the likes of Sidious, Tarkin, Thrawn.

For now, he had to find a new location to live in, preferably one where Dinah would be comfortable.

“What about a robot hand?” Dinah asked, stopping his thoughts. “I know Panacea will re-grow my arm, but I don’t know how long that would take, can’t you make me a robot hand.”

“… That can be arranged,” Anakin said after some thought. He did have some experience with prosthetics after all.

“Yes!“