Beyond - Legends Coma

A weird mixture of the recent hullabaloo over Terri Schiavo, a rereading of Necropolis and an insatiable interest in what happens after the war. Mostly written to stave off the Jag/Leia in my brain (darn you, Thrawn), and I think I took too many behavioral charateristics from the Kelgians. Oh, and this isn't interspecies 'ship, it's alien angst.

Wordcount: 411 words on veterans' benefits.

Edit: I've just realized this is my twentieth story. Cool, no?
Edit #2: Crud, no, I counted wrong. 19th story I've written, 18th posted.
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The vet center is painted in the peculiar mixture of sterile white and sickly green that all hospitals, regardless of planet or species, seem to use. There are forms upon forms to write every week, no matter if she has done them all before. The inmates are horrifying, missing arms and legs and eyes, and sometimes all three. The patients with burns are worse, though, their fur gone and snouts and ears charred. She can hardly stand to look at them sometimes, and she is always glad when she is past their ward. She doesn?t go near the infectious disease ward, though. She is thankful for that. The poxes the scarheads introduced into the galaxy are said to be particularly disfiguring.

The worst, though, is the psychiatric ward. She can hear them screaming behind their doors, and others being dragged to and fro in straitjackets, teeth bared and snarling. Some of them sit on chair, fur slowly rippling in disturbing patterns, and it?s not always due to medication.

?Ma?am? Are you all right??

She goes in and sits down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and looks at her husband and shudders as she always does. His fur doesn?t move at all, not even in the little rustles of dreams. His eyes are open and stare blankly at the ceiling, his face slack and body relaxed. She thinks he looks like a fresh corpse, and she?s seen a lot of them over the years.

Despite her disgust, she looks at him and talks of her week: the new girl at the office, who she?s sure is another pesky corporate spy; the earthquake on one of the colonies that killed 3 million; even the three comets arching overhead. She talks and she talks, her hands clenched tight, her claws drawing blood from her palms. Her fur moves wildly ? anyone can tell her state of mind from it.

And when she can?t talk anymore, she lurches out of her chair and runs out of the ward, the attendant giving her a sympathetic look as she passes. She slows down through the psychiatric ward and by the time she?s going through the burn ward she is walking sedately, looking straight ahead. She walks and she walks, and she walks straight out the Covepi?starn branch of the Bothawui Veterans? Center and as far away from the Coma Ward as she can possible manage.

She only visits the hospital once a week. It?s all she can manage.

 

Edit: I've just realized this is my twentieth story. Cool, no?

You are McEwok!

Very powerful. I really love your writting style and it only seems to be getting better I suppose it doesn't matter who the woman (female) is, but I am curious. Very clever (if intended) calling it the vet center and then describing the species and snouts and ears and all, as if it could be "veterinary" instead of "veteran", but it was obvious you were talking about sentients

Anyway, great stuff

 

Elena: As ever, not quite sure what to say to this 'un. I take it it develops in your "dark Bothan angst" theme...

Grim, well-observed... the tragedy isn't inherrent, but it's that the characters can't see a way out...

And - Leia/Jag? You know you want to!

- The Imperial Ewok

 

Dude...

*Is once more speechless - though for a different reason.. *

Somewhat offtopic, I think I have to insert a couple of s here - and resolve to finish that damn A/G thing...

Brilliant 'fic.

 

Interesting.

I found it a bit confusing to follow; but I do have a bit of a headache, so it might just be me.

You do a good job of getting her emotions about it across, though.

Don't feel bad about counting wrong?I remember once when I was thirteen I couldn't figure out why I got a problem wrong. I had put "nine times three is thirty-six" and said it at least twice before I caught the error. And like things have happened since.

Keep writing!

 

Incredible. And realistic, I think. I can't imagine how hard something like that must be.

Amazing fic, Elena.