MUSTAFAR:10BBY

V

Only a few minutes before 0600 hours, Keelan entered to be met with the sight of Lord Vader in a tank. The sight nearly made his heart stop.

The room was large, and the only light that illuminated the space shone up through the 1.72 meter tank that Lord Vader floated peacefully in. His eyes were shut like he was asleep, and several tubes led to his mouth for him to breathe. He was wearing only black undergarments and to Keelan's surprise, he was missing all of his limbs.

He had thought yesterday that he had walked a bit stiffly during the events of their meeting and now he understood why. Still, it came at a surprise. His arms were missing from the elbows down and his legs were missing from right above his knees. He didn't have any hair either and his skin looked irritated and damaged like he had been burned.

What happened to him for this to be the result? When Lord Vader had stood in front of him yesterday, clad in black and staring down at him from behind an expressionless mask, he had felt like a bug getting ready to be crushed. While he still felt fairly intimidated, he also felt... pity?

Pity for someone like Vader?

"You." A voice suddenly echoed loudly through the room, snapping him away from his thoughts of Vader and causing him to stiffen. With a quick twirl, he turned towards the sound, his eyes wide as if he had been caught doing something against the rules.

An older man dressed in a black uniform with graying hair frowned at him from across the room, then motioned for him to come closer with a firm motion.

Keelan approached with careful steps, his boots squeaking a bit from how new and clean the rubber was.

"Who are you?" The man asked once he was close enough. His face was wrinkled and stuck in a permanently unhappy expression, looking over him with a sort of disdain people would save for something brown on the carpet.

"I... uhm..." Keelan mumbled, his name had suddenly fled his mind, leaving him shaking and speechless.

"Speak, boy." The man exclaimed suddenly.

"Keelan!" He yelped, "I'm Keelan, I don't have a last name, sir!"

The older man frowned even deeper, then looked down to a clipboard he had been carrying under his arm. He scanned over it with a mumble of displeasure for several seconds before looking back up.

"Keelan..." He murmured. "Your last name has been registered as Hutt."

Keelan's expression paled and looked down to the floor, he felt his heart sink to his stomach. "Oh, I guess that's... fine." He whispered.

The man folded his clipboard under his arm and sighed heavily. "I am Baize, you will refer to me as sir." He told him firmly.

"Yes, sir." Keelan said right away.

Baize was quiet, then checked his watch and for only a moment did he look pleased, one eyebrow raising to match with one side of his mouth. "On time... that's good." He murmured before his face returned to the usual grumpy disposition. "Keep being on time, or we'll get a droid to replace you."

"Yes, sir." He repeated.

Baize snorted then started to walk forward to the tank, waving his hand to it. "As I said before, a machine had previously done this work. Though it recently broke down, I don't see the point in replacing it with a person that would need to be taught and trained. I say just fix the damn thing, but what do I know?" He muttered. Though he seemed very serious, he did not seem worried or uncomfortable by the presence of Lord Vader in the tank only a few feet from him.

Keelan stayed silent, just listening intently to what Baize had to say. Though he had been originally jumpy, and he still was, he found himself surprisingly more at ease when he heard the man's voice. It was the type of voice Keelan would imagine many people would enjoy listening to before bedtime.

"Have you ever seen one of these before?" Baize then asked.

"No, sir..." He answered with a frown.

Baize let out a long weary sigh, then shook it off after a moment. "This is a bacta tank." He began, "Or a bacta pod, it doesn't matter. It's a tank in which someone, in this case, Lord Vader, is submerged in bacta to treat his injuries, sleep, or meditate while away from his suit."

"Meditate?" Keelan asked, his eyes looking over the tank.

"Force-wielding practices." Baize sounded as if he didn't care much for it but he didn't say anything more to prove the fact. He swiftly moved on. "As his personal attendant, you will be in charge of his eating habits and changing out his cod-peice when he..." The man shrugged.

Keelan, despite the idea of that, was not disgusted. Everyone had to use the bathroom, even sith lords.

"His prosthetics and his suit are also something that you will be in charge of."

Nearby, propped up like they were on display, was Lord Vader's suit and robotic limbs. Though the man that would often wear them wasn't currently in it, the suit still radiated an intimidating aura, as if some angry ghost was possessing it and waiting to strike. Keelan didn't get too close.

"You will polish them and make sure they are in working order, then, when he wishes to exit the tank, you will fit him with his equipment as instructed." Baize continued. "I will show you how to identify all controls on his suit today, I want you to be able to do it with your eyes closed before you are dismissed. Any questions?"

Keelan found the instructions simple enough and he understood the importance of all he needed to learn, but he was confused about one element. "You said, when he wishes to exit the tank, what do you...?"

Baize's expression didn't change other than the slight purse of his lips. "You'll know." He said, leaving Keelan feeling more confused.

He didn't feel confused for long though, because Keelan suddenly felt a bone chilling shudder climb up his back, making all the hair on his body stand on end. Death, the feeling of death.

Slave...

Keelan's head slowly turned to look over his shoulder and towards the tank. Lord Vader was there, floating silently with his eyes shut and his body as still as always.

But, Keelan knew that his presence was known.

That feeling of being ripped open from yesterday was back. Though it wasn't as aggressive and angry as it had been, it was still fairly frustrated, like hands trying to force open a box that had been taped too much. He tried to ignore it, to push away from the feeling, shutting his eyes as if it would help him focus.

Baize seemed to notice and frowned deeply, "Something wrong, Mr. Hutt?" He asked.

"N-no, sir..." Keelan shook his head, trying to take a deep breath and block it out. Something in his head was trying to convince him to give into it, he was sure he would if he knew how. "He..." He could barely get his words out, a shaking hand motioning to the tank.

"Lord Vader?" Baize raised an eyebrow, then looked towards the tank with that grumpy expression. "It's normal, it will pass soon."

Keelan shivered, feeling dizzy, a shaking hand reached out to try and hold onto something to steady himself. The feeling passed slowly like the hands were retreating and he felt as if his head had cleared and his breath returned once they were gone. He opened his eyes to find his right hand gripping Baize's forearm.

He immediately pulled back, his voice starting to shake. "I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't mean to-"

Dead eyes, open mouth.

Baize took hold of Keelan's hand firmly and to his surprise he wasn't hit or scolded, though his expression didn't look like he would have usually allowed it. Instead, Baize began to inspect his hand, making the palm face downward then flipped it facing up. "You have nerve damage." He mumbled. "Electrocution?"

"What?" Keelan whispered.

"Hm." Baize dropped Keelan's arm then and continued his walk. "I suppose that means no heavy lifting for you."