Bandage
Sep 19th, 2005, 03:36:32 AM
The run of water echoes through the lower sections of Coruscant. It is primarily runoff from the rains that occaisonally grace the cityscape. Sewage is usually processed in a different area, so the water here is somewhat cleaner, though it is most likely far from drinkable. It runs down a very large drainage ditch before it is processed.
Floating down this river, a body is tossed back and forth in the flow of water. The rains that came were a curse to some, but for one man, it was most likely a blessing.
The body was a man, and his name was unknown to all. If he ever mentioned his name, it would be met with strange looks, for either the individuals asking simply didn't know who he was, or they knew that he, Dr. Rayth Skorne of the Upper Coruscant Burn Unit, was supposed to be very dead. He was branded by the Empire as a traitor for helping the numerous burn and plasma-scoring victims of the Rebellion. He was even accused of running an underground hospital for the "Rebellion scum." In Skorne's opinion, they were merely people who had a different view, and were persecuted for wanting freedom from the oppressive order that was the Empire. Those victims were merely patients that needed care, irregardless of who they were, Imperial, Rebel, or otherwise.
But when the Inquisitoriate got wind of his dealings, they fire-bombed his personal clinic in the upper section of Coruscant, leaving him and his staff for dead. All of those people were merely erased, forgotten.
It was not very clear as to how he got into the cool, flowing water of the drainage canal. Perhaps the explosions of the equipment propelled him there. Perhaps he had gotten out, and carried his own smoldering body to the water. The former was most likely true. It was also unclear to him how he could survive such trauma. Why would someone like him be allowed to survive by fate, by the Force? Was it because the Force wanted him to feel pain, or was it some final lesson to be learned before Death took him?
The crusted, raw, and reddened skin and flesh of Dr. Skorne was now numb, for too much damage had been sustained. Rayth could only feel the cool water rushing over his body, soothing the burn. Perhaps the numbing cold was the sensation that one's body felt when Death was close by. Rayth didn't know, nor did he care. All that he would've cared about, if he were conscious at all, was the fact that his patients, his employees, all were dead. And because he wished to help others. All because of a difference of sides. It was simply wrong. How could one sentient being be so cruel to another? Rayth understood that the Rebels were fighting against oppression from the Empire, who wanted all to bow before it or be destroyed; any differing opinions would be supressed, or eliminated. And so Rayth helped them, and this was the effect for his cause. Rayth felt sorrow, but not for himself. It was for the countless others who would suffer for trying to give themselves and their progeny a better tomorrow. How could the Empire disrespect something as sacred as that? Rayth felt himself once more slipping between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness. Despite the hasiness that he felt as he drifted, Rayth's thoughts were clear and precise.
"So, this is what Death feels like. Being burnt, until little better than ashes remain. Perhaps the cooling sensation of death is trying to soothe the searing sting of life..."
And at last, Rayth slipped into blessed unconsciousness...........
Floating down this river, a body is tossed back and forth in the flow of water. The rains that came were a curse to some, but for one man, it was most likely a blessing.
The body was a man, and his name was unknown to all. If he ever mentioned his name, it would be met with strange looks, for either the individuals asking simply didn't know who he was, or they knew that he, Dr. Rayth Skorne of the Upper Coruscant Burn Unit, was supposed to be very dead. He was branded by the Empire as a traitor for helping the numerous burn and plasma-scoring victims of the Rebellion. He was even accused of running an underground hospital for the "Rebellion scum." In Skorne's opinion, they were merely people who had a different view, and were persecuted for wanting freedom from the oppressive order that was the Empire. Those victims were merely patients that needed care, irregardless of who they were, Imperial, Rebel, or otherwise.
But when the Inquisitoriate got wind of his dealings, they fire-bombed his personal clinic in the upper section of Coruscant, leaving him and his staff for dead. All of those people were merely erased, forgotten.
It was not very clear as to how he got into the cool, flowing water of the drainage canal. Perhaps the explosions of the equipment propelled him there. Perhaps he had gotten out, and carried his own smoldering body to the water. The former was most likely true. It was also unclear to him how he could survive such trauma. Why would someone like him be allowed to survive by fate, by the Force? Was it because the Force wanted him to feel pain, or was it some final lesson to be learned before Death took him?
The crusted, raw, and reddened skin and flesh of Dr. Skorne was now numb, for too much damage had been sustained. Rayth could only feel the cool water rushing over his body, soothing the burn. Perhaps the numbing cold was the sensation that one's body felt when Death was close by. Rayth didn't know, nor did he care. All that he would've cared about, if he were conscious at all, was the fact that his patients, his employees, all were dead. And because he wished to help others. All because of a difference of sides. It was simply wrong. How could one sentient being be so cruel to another? Rayth understood that the Rebels were fighting against oppression from the Empire, who wanted all to bow before it or be destroyed; any differing opinions would be supressed, or eliminated. And so Rayth helped them, and this was the effect for his cause. Rayth felt sorrow, but not for himself. It was for the countless others who would suffer for trying to give themselves and their progeny a better tomorrow. How could the Empire disrespect something as sacred as that? Rayth felt himself once more slipping between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness. Despite the hasiness that he felt as he drifted, Rayth's thoughts were clear and precise.
"So, this is what Death feels like. Being burnt, until little better than ashes remain. Perhaps the cooling sensation of death is trying to soothe the searing sting of life..."
And at last, Rayth slipped into blessed unconsciousness...........