Stormtrooper Sergeant TK-622 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
loyal_soldier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenace2020-03-17 06:05 pm
loyal_soldier) wrote in maskormenace2020-03-17 06:05 pm
Entry tags:
Video/VR; Memory Share
[ooc: CW for death, medical, injury, the worst day in a stormtrooper's short life]
The investigation led nowhere. Contradictory information fills your head, and you can't make sense of it. Something feels wrong, you know everyone you've talked to can't be correct, but which one is right? You have no training to help you here. No sense for this at all. You're not that smart. And half your day was spent hijacked to respond to a Rebel incursion--the sick feeling you had when the klaxons started comes back to you, an officer unwittingly forcing you off your self-appointed task and you can't do anything about it. Helpless.
You still have no idea who was behind the attacks on Commander Akobi. You've failed. Maybe if he recovers, he'll be able to take the information you gathered, fit it together in ways you don't understand, like he always does. You don't question it. He's always been right. He's always had your back.
And when you step back into the medbay, you know he's not going to survive.
The last time you saw him, he was floating in the bacta tank, covered in electrical burns that had torn him open. You were burned too, the half-healed, good-enough job under your armor is painful, but superficial. Now you can't see most of Akobi's burns--but you're not even sure for a moment how much of him is left. His entire left side is encased in a mass of tubes and machines, blinking, hissing, shuddering. It's there to help him, but you can't shake the impression that it's feeding on him.
This is your only friend.
Commander Akobi is awake, but it's some minutes before he's strong enough to speak. "My sins have finally caught up with me, 622." His voice is unrecognizable, raw and distorted by the machinery. You know it hurts him to talk, and he shouldn't on your account.
"You're straining yourself, sir. Try to rest."
"Rest isn't going to help me now. We both know that." You do, but you can't think that. You're not supposed to outlive him. "Everything's so clear..." He tries to sit up, and the machines whirr and beep furiously. "What if what we're doing isn't in the galaxy's best interest? What if the Alliance is right?"
The shock of those words leaves you strangely numb. You can hear yourself start to protest, "I can't accept that. We're holding the galaxy together--" But you instantly fall silent when he speaks again. He's an officer. Your commander.
"Of course you can't accept that. That's your conditioning. But that night on Ralltiir..." His strength fails, unable to sit. You try and help him ease back down onto the hard, sterile bed.
After a moment, he continues. His eyes can't focus anymore, but he seems determined to talk. "...It wasn't an ammo dump we hit in Ettam. It was a med center." What? How could that be? They'd known Ettam was a hotspot of Rebel activity, weapons and contraband coming into the city was routed through that suburb, Akobi was from there, he knew--
"The rebels were disrupting our communications, and I should've known better than to go in blind. But I was so sure I knew the lay of the land..." That was it. Things became clearer, more simple. The rebels were responsible. It's all you can think about, pulling you away from watching how hard the machines are working to make Akobi breathe. He's still talking, but his voice is getting weaker by the minute. "To avoid the political fall-out, our superiors swept the incident under the rug, declared me a hero."
His pain is getting worse. The machines are starting to make new sounds, you have no idea what it all means, but you can't let him keep thinking he was in the wrong. He doesn't deserve that. He's going to die, and he was so good to everyone, he was everything an officer should be, the rebels can't take that from him too. "Sir, the rebels knew exactly where that med center was and led you right to it--"
But he won't let you. "No. It was my own certainty that doomed those people." His eyes are rolling back. The medical droid isn't coming over to help him. Maybe it's been sabotaged too. You can't move.
"You're a good soldier, 622. I'm proud of you..." No. He shouldn't be focusing on you now. He should be--you don't even know, but he shouldn't--"...But I wish I could make you see past your training. The Empire isn't always the shining example of order. The Alliance isn't wholly evil. It's all a dirty, confusing mess..."
He dies there, and you can't move. You've just seen the final moments of your only friend.
The investigation led nowhere. Contradictory information fills your head, and you can't make sense of it. Something feels wrong, you know everyone you've talked to can't be correct, but which one is right? You have no training to help you here. No sense for this at all. You're not that smart. And half your day was spent hijacked to respond to a Rebel incursion--the sick feeling you had when the klaxons started comes back to you, an officer unwittingly forcing you off your self-appointed task and you can't do anything about it. Helpless.
You still have no idea who was behind the attacks on Commander Akobi. You've failed. Maybe if he recovers, he'll be able to take the information you gathered, fit it together in ways you don't understand, like he always does. You don't question it. He's always been right. He's always had your back.
And when you step back into the medbay, you know he's not going to survive.
The last time you saw him, he was floating in the bacta tank, covered in electrical burns that had torn him open. You were burned too, the half-healed, good-enough job under your armor is painful, but superficial. Now you can't see most of Akobi's burns--but you're not even sure for a moment how much of him is left. His entire left side is encased in a mass of tubes and machines, blinking, hissing, shuddering. It's there to help him, but you can't shake the impression that it's feeding on him.
This is your only friend.
Commander Akobi is awake, but it's some minutes before he's strong enough to speak. "My sins have finally caught up with me, 622." His voice is unrecognizable, raw and distorted by the machinery. You know it hurts him to talk, and he shouldn't on your account.
"You're straining yourself, sir. Try to rest."
"Rest isn't going to help me now. We both know that." You do, but you can't think that. You're not supposed to outlive him. "Everything's so clear..." He tries to sit up, and the machines whirr and beep furiously. "What if what we're doing isn't in the galaxy's best interest? What if the Alliance is right?"
The shock of those words leaves you strangely numb. You can hear yourself start to protest, "I can't accept that. We're holding the galaxy together--" But you instantly fall silent when he speaks again. He's an officer. Your commander.
"Of course you can't accept that. That's your conditioning. But that night on Ralltiir..." His strength fails, unable to sit. You try and help him ease back down onto the hard, sterile bed.
After a moment, he continues. His eyes can't focus anymore, but he seems determined to talk. "...It wasn't an ammo dump we hit in Ettam. It was a med center." What? How could that be? They'd known Ettam was a hotspot of Rebel activity, weapons and contraband coming into the city was routed through that suburb, Akobi was from there, he knew--
"The rebels were disrupting our communications, and I should've known better than to go in blind. But I was so sure I knew the lay of the land..." That was it. Things became clearer, more simple. The rebels were responsible. It's all you can think about, pulling you away from watching how hard the machines are working to make Akobi breathe. He's still talking, but his voice is getting weaker by the minute. "To avoid the political fall-out, our superiors swept the incident under the rug, declared me a hero."
His pain is getting worse. The machines are starting to make new sounds, you have no idea what it all means, but you can't let him keep thinking he was in the wrong. He doesn't deserve that. He's going to die, and he was so good to everyone, he was everything an officer should be, the rebels can't take that from him too. "Sir, the rebels knew exactly where that med center was and led you right to it--"
But he won't let you. "No. It was my own certainty that doomed those people." His eyes are rolling back. The medical droid isn't coming over to help him. Maybe it's been sabotaged too. You can't move.
"You're a good soldier, 622. I'm proud of you..." No. He shouldn't be focusing on you now. He should be--you don't even know, but he shouldn't--"...But I wish I could make you see past your training. The Empire isn't always the shining example of order. The Alliance isn't wholly evil. It's all a dirty, confusing mess..."
He dies there, and you can't move. You've just seen the final moments of your only friend.
audio — private
They'd all lost so much in the war, both sides, each fighting for their own cause. Clashing. "It's all a dirty, confusing mess..." And she remembers her callous attitude and words towards Akobi, how she'd stated that he should've remained dead.
Softly: ] I'm so sorry.
audio, private;
He can't bring himself to look at it now.]
He didn't deserve what happened to him.
no subject
A slow, measured breath. ]
Are you...alright?