The New Adventures of Nomi Darklighter

Chapter 9 - Wounds that need to heal

Dash Jr. lay on the operating table and a 2-1B unit attached the new bionic arm prosthesis. The droid connected the natural nerve pathways of the arm stump with the electronic pathways of the prosthesis.
The young man was in a semi-conscious state due to a sedative. Once the work was completed, 2-1B turned to Dash, who had been patiently waiting and watching the operation.
"Your son will regain use of his arm in approximately three standard days, Major Rendar. He was lucky his arm wasn't severed right at the shoulder," the droid explained in a mechanical voice.
Hearing this, Dash sighed in relief.
"Will he be able to wield a lightsaber again?"
2-1B seemed to be thinking.
"If everything has healed – yes," the medi droid answered after a while.
It seemed as if Dash Jr. regained consciousness. But because he was scheduled for bacta tank treatment, 2-1B injected the young Jedi with a second shot of the sedative into his left arm to maintain the semi-conscious state.
Shortly afterwards Dash Jr. floated in the slightly rosy, shimmering, sticky bacta. At first he struggled, but then he went limp and gave in to the healing effects. 2-1B checked the readings and, satisfied, turned to Dash.
"The patient is responding well to the bacta, Major Rendar."

After an hour in the bacta tank Dash Jr. was taken to a hospital room accompanied by his father, where his mother and sister were already waiting for him. The young man was still slightly dazed, but his spirits were slowly returning.
He carefully touched his new arm with his left hand, which felt strange and foreign to him. Would he ever be able to use it? Above all, would it ever be suitable for handling a weapon? Dash saw the doubt in his son's eyes and could understand what was going on inside him.
"You'll be your old self again, Junior," he said with an encouraging tone.
His son shook his head.
"It will never be the same again, father."
Nomi reached out and gently stroked her eldest's face, just as she had done when he was a small child.
"You're strong, Dash, and 2-1B has assured us that you won't notice the difference after a while."
Her son looked at her doubtfully.
"Trust the Force, Dash," Nomi said, smiling.
"Trust the Force...," he whispered almost inaudibly. "Why did the Force allow Kylo Ren to betray us?"
"Honestly, I have no idea, Dash."

Three standard days later and after many bacta treatments, Dash Jr. was able to leave the hospital. He was glad because it was hard for him to do nothing. The Jedi looked at his new arm with satisfaction. The thin line between the stump of his arm and the bionic prosthesis was barely visible.
He carefully put on his coverall. This was a bit awkward because the fingers on his right hand had a delayed reaction to the nerve impulses. But 2-1B had assured him that things would get better soon. The young man slowly grabbed his weapon belt and put it on.
On the table in front of him lay his lightsaber, which his sister had taken with her when they fled. As he hung it on his belt, he wondered if he would ever be able to wield it properly again. He sighed. What kind of Jedi would he be without his lightsaber?
Anger boiled within him, but at the same time he remembered Master Skywalker's words that anger leads to the dark side. The words Luke had said whenever Ben Solo had another tantrum.
Thinking about Ben, now calling himself Kylo Ren, made it even worse. Dash Jr. sat down on the bed, breathing heavily. He had to calm down.
As he had been taught, he allowed the feelings, accepted them, but then let them flow like a river and disappear.
The young Jedi slowly sank into deep meditation. His breathing was regular and his anger subsided.

At that moment his sister entered the room.
"You look like you could take on a krayt dragon, dear brother."
Dash Jr. opened his eyes, looked up and smiled at her, for the first time in a long time.
"I think it'll be a while, little one. My hand doesn't quite obey me."
Tasherit stood in front of him and glared at him.
"Don't call me little one, Dash."
Her brother grinned broadly at his sister's obviously feigned indignation. She laughed and sat down next to him on his bed. But then she became serious.
"Do you remember Tarik?"
Her brother nodded.
"Of course I do. Tarik is one of our mother's old friends."
"I visited him yesterday. He told me about a group founded by Senator Organa called Resistance," Tasherit said, almost euphoric. "Dash, finally we can do something useful. They need good pilots like us. Tarik can establish contact with the Resistance. C'mon, bro."
Dash shook his head.
"And what about our business?"
"It's not important. We could fight for freedom and justice like our parents did back then, Dash."
Her brother still wasn't entirely convinced.
"Resistance...resistance to what?"
"Resistance to the First Order. Senator Organa and Tarik firmly believe that this successor to the Empire could pose a serious threat to the New Republic."
Dash shook his head again.
"How can I be useful to the Resistance with this arm?"
Tasherit carefully ran her index finger over the prosthetic, which was strangely cool.
"You won't realize it's a prosthetic soon enough. Please let us join the Resistance."
Her brother stood up.
"Okay, we'll see if they need us."

A few hours later, Nomi and Dash received an unannounced visit from Tarik. It was obvious that he was happy to see the Aquarius. The ambassador sat down at the Dejarik table in the center section of the freighter. There he opened his bag and took out a bottle of Jet Sprit that he had brought with him as a reminder of the old days with the Alliance. A drink that should be consumed with caution, but was very popular with the X-wing pilots of Rogue Squadron during the Civil War. After he had poured a sufficient amount into the glasses of his friends and himself, he sat back and relaxed.
Tarik slowly swirled the drink in his glass before taking a sip. The Jet Sprit burned like fire in his throat, he coughed and his feathers stood on end. Dash couldn't help but grin and finished the drink in one gulp, keeping a straight face. Nomi smiled at both of them, but then she became serious.
"You're not here for the old times, Tarik."
Her old friend nodded.
"Your children asked me to go to you after they left Hosnian Prime. They wanted to join the Resistance and were afraid that you wouldn't agree with it."
Dash put his glass aside and shook his head.
"Our children are adults and can make their own decisions, Tarik. But it would have been nice if they had said goodbye."
Nomi remembered how she left Tatooine a long time ago without saying goodbye to her parents. She couldn't be angry with Tarik or her children. The ambassador was relieved that his friends didn't blame him for recruiting Tasherit and Dash Jr. into the Resistance.
"The Resistance is lucky to have such good pilots with the Force as an ally," the Jedi said, smiling at her old brother in arms.
Tarik looked her in the eye.
"I'm still hoping you and Dash will join the Resistance too."
"The ways of the Force are inscrutable, my friend." Nomi stood up and winked at him.
The ambassador also rose and took his leave.

As Tarik left the hangar and felt the cool evening air of Hosnian Prime, he swayed slightly. At that moment, he realized that it would be better to stay away from Jet Sprit.