Saga A Long Night's Journey Into Day (Post ROTS/IT-era AU. 2009 Diary Challenge Response) Updated 7/16!

Title: A Long Night's Journey Into Day
Author: Specterace
Characters: Llednar Kinneas (not-quite-an-OC), Kohl Seerdon, Anakin Skywalker, and others.
Genre: AU, Variable
Timeframe: Starts a few months after the end of the Clone Wars.
A/N: This is a response to the [link=http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_resource/b10304/29588737/p1/?117]2009 Dear Diary Challenge[/link]. It's kind of an experimental thing for me, as I've never actually kept a diary in RL . Not only that, but the situations some of our beloved characters will find themselves in are quite a bit different from the canon saga. Still, I hope you enjoy it. Or at least, give it a chance.

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 4, Day 6, Year 0 A.E.D (After Empire Day)

Diary Entry #1

Conventional wisdom, at least as spouted by virtually all sentient and mature denizens of the galaxy, holds that the value of a sentient creature's existence is defined by three things and three things only.

First, is what they've done throughout their lives. Achievements and failures are generally taken as the barometer of how effectively an individual invested the time and energy they are granted in this galaxy through the gift of life. The prestige and reputation of that individual is then determined by the scope of those achievements and failures weighed against each other, to see what wins out, and by how much.

Second, is the effect they've had on the lives of anyone and everyone they've ever come across. Because it is only through seeing whether a certain individual acts to help or hurt the lives of those around them that we can judge whether or not they should be seen as good or evil. Whether they are a credit to their race, or a disgrace to it.

And third, the thing that is virtually universally regarded as the most telling of all, is the memories one carries regarding everything that has happened throughout the course of their lives. Sentient beings, at one point or another, all pass away. Notable landmarks, made by nature or by sentient hands, can all be ruined or destroyed at any time. Technology, for all of its greatness, can regress or be rendered useless by the whims of those it serves. But memories, those are eternal. Though a man can never escape the curse of his physical mortality, the memories he shares and creates give his spirit the power to live in another's heart forever.

In other words, these three things, action, impact, and memory, are what determines the worth of any sentient being. They determine how deserving that creature was to the years they were given and the abilities and capabilities they were blessed with throughout their lives. They are the things that let others know if they should even care about someone if or when they see them.

Or at least, so goes the conventional wisdom.

Well, if that wisdom is true, then I guess that would mean my life, as it currently is, isn't worth a tincred.

My name is Llednar Kinneas.

According to my medical records, I am a six-foot, one-inch, human male who is twenty-eight standard years of age. I weigh two hundred and fifteen pounds, or as some would put it, about ninety-seven and a half kilograms. I have black hair, grey eyes, and tanned light skin.

For the most part, though, you don't really need to read my records to see or conclude any of that. All you need to do is take one good look at me. Or take a look at my reflection in a mirror, as it'll show you the same thing. Seeing me in person will show you that I wear my dark hair somewhat long and loosely, letting it fall to my shoulders in a slightly wavy tumble that parts itself right down the middle of my scalp. You'd also see that though my eyes are labeled gray, that grey can vary from being as dark as a thundercloud, or light as to almost be called silver. And one look at my so-called tanned light skin would give you the impression that I look the way I do from reducing my exposure to sunlight than increasing it. As if there'd been

 

This is very good, Specterace.

I hope Llednar gets his memories back. I really feel for him, and I can't wait to find out who he was!

 

Oh this is going to be good! Please include me on the PM list!

But it's not like I can tell anyone if that's the case or not. Hell, when it comes to me, I don't think I've got that much to tell anyone, period.

Because there's one thing my charts will tell you that you can't see with the naked eye.

That would be my medical condition.

In clinical terms, it's known as post-traumatic amnesia.

In my terms, it's known as losing your memories due to getting hit on your head really, really hard.

 

Excellent start. Please add me to the list.

 

Jaidyn_Knightfall: This is very good, Specterace.

Thanks.

I hope Llednar gets his memories back. I really feel for him, and I can't wait to find out who he was!

We'll see. What I WILL say is that you'll find out who he was by the end of the diary. Beyond that, well...

VadeyKim: Oh this is going to be good! Please include me on the PM list!

Well, I certainly hope I don't disappoint you. And you got it on the PM.

Force_Chick: Excellent start. Please add me to the list.

Thanks. And you bet.

Specterace

 

Alright, here comes the next part. I likely won't be updating this diary as fast as I am now (I certainly won't be going at a five-day update pace for the whole year), but we'll see how things go.

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 4, Day 14, Year 0 A.E.D

Diary Entry #8


Have you ever heard of the phrase "Speak of a Devil, and he will come"?

Well, whoever first said that little adage definitely knew what he was talking about.

Except in my case, he'd actually say something like "Write of a Devil, and he will come".

See, ever since I started this journal of mine about a week and a half ago, not a day has gone by that I didn't dedicate at least a moment or two to write about how much I wished I'd get word from someone else besides the doctors and the droids I now see as part of my everyday existence. Some message, or some datapad, or maybe even someone walking through that door that didn't have a lab coat or some other sort of medic's uniform on.

Well, I got my wish.

Today, I got my very first visitor.

And needless to say, I was very much shocked when I saw who he was. Granted, I was shocked enough that somebody besides my doctors would actually bother to make their way up here to this room to see me and talk to me. But whatever shock I got from that was definitely compounded by the realization that the human man who walked through my door wasn't just any old somebody.

If his bearing hadn't given away the high status he held in the Galactic Empire, then the badge on his pressed uniform definitely would've.

Because the first person I've had the honor of entertaining in this room was none other than the Moff of the Chommell Sector himself. Yes, the same one who had personally asked Anakin Skywalker to pledge his vows of loyalty on another man's memory in front of the entire Galaxy.

Kohl Seerdon of Naboo.

He came in suddenly, carrying a small black business case, without knocking on the door or giving any other sort of warning. Since I was watching the Holonet during his entry, the first look I got of him was when he made his way to the middle of the room, stepping out into the sunlight that poured in from the late morning sun through my window and into my line of sight.

That first look I got told me quite a bit. He was a slim, tall man, with a short crop of curling dark hair and eyes that were somewhere between dull green and light gray. He had light skin that appeared to have a very slight tan, suggesting he either spent a lot of time in clothes that covered his skin, or he simply didn't get the sun all that much. He had a bit of fat on both cheeks, and he also sported a shadow of a beard, implying that he'd recently shaved. He also had a cruel-looking mouth that seemed more suited to frowning or sneering than smiling. Combined with dark eyebrows that seemed to be a little on the thick side, it gave his face a grim, overtly serious look that didn?t exactly inspire the feeling he wanted to be anyone's friend.

Still, that could have just been the effect of the uniform. After all, solid dark gray isn't exactly the clothing color that comes to mind when you think of festive, cheerful wear.

Or, that could be the way he greets everybody nowadays. From what I've seen on the Holonet, Moffs and other such people do have quite a bit of status both in their native land and in the Empire in general, and as such they are known to carry themselves with more reserve than is normal. In that case, it's nothing personal; it's just a function of the job. I can understand that.

Or it could have just been his business face. For as it turns out, Moff Seerdon did indeed have some worthwhile business to take care of with me.

Now I bet you're wondering: Why would someone as important as an Imperial Moff want to take some of what's surely his precious time and use it to go to the bother of visiting me?

If you are, don't worry. The moment I saw him, I wondered the very same thing.

So much so, in fact, that the very first notable thing I told him was something to the effect o

 

Can you put me on you PM list? This sounds really good!

 

Excellent update. I'm wondering if he was being told the truth.

 

Wow! Great update. That was quite a bit of information for him to take in!

 

Reply time!

jazjediundercover: Can you put me on you PM list? This sounds really good!

Sure. And thank you very much for the compliments.

Force_Chick: Excellent update. I'm wondering if he was being told the truth.

Thanks. And as for the second part of your question, all I'll say is that he was indeed being told the truth... or at least, the truth as the Empire would have him believe it...

VaderLVR64:Wow! Great update. That was quite a bit of information for him to take in!

Thank you very much, Kim. And yeah, Llednar was told a ton. But he paid attention, and had a few hours to gather his thoughts, so he got through it okay.

Anyway, till next time!

Specterace

 

And here is the next part!

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 4, Day 24, Year 0 A.E.D

Diary Entry #18

It?s been two standard weeks since Moff Seerdon came to my room.

That also means it?s been ten days since I first got that datapad that has the only existing chronicle of my lost life, at least as far as I know.

Ever since that day, I?ve spent my every free moment looking over the contents of that datapad. I?ve read everything in there at least three or four times over, doing my best to commit each and every fact written about me to the memory I'm doing my damnest to rebuild. Granted, I didn't read anything that sounded confidential or otherwise different from what I'd probably find in the many historical datapads at the nearest library (not that I thought I really would, since I, like anyone with a working brain, know better than to expect a report from Imperial Intelligence to have anything they wouldn?t want a civilian to know in it), but it was good reading all the same.

I read about my childhood, about how I and my family lived as refugees on the famed smuggler's moon until we moved to a small apartment in Corulag when I was 14.

I read about how I applied to the Corulag Military Academy, and wrote a page about how I wanted to be a soldier because I wanted to do something meaningful with my life that would help me protect people like my parents and all those other refugees I saw when I was growing up.

I read about my time in the Academy, where I graduated from the standard one-year training course of the Corulag Army at the top of my class. Then, I read about how I was accepted for training by the Special Forces Branch, where I spent three intense years learning demolitions, sniping, stealth, variable terrain movement, small unit tactics, infiltration, escape, field craft piloting, and many other skills, most of which related to covert ops and unconventional warfare. Apparently, the higher-ups in Corulag's military believed in providing the most comprehensive training regimen practically possible for its elite troops.

I read about my years in the Corulag Army's 4th Special Forces group, when I went on various operations against drug dealers, terrorist cells, and other such criminal elements that threatened the peace and security of Corulagian society.

I then came to the longest and densest part of the entire report, which dealt with my service in the Clone Wars. Though I operated in virtually all fields of direct action both as a regular soldier and as a commando, I particularly specialized in Demolitions, thanks to my Special Forces training. Going by the report alone, I must've stepped foot on a good 600 or so worlds at the very least as I fought across the stars, and likely seen thousands more either with my own eyes or through the Holonet. I went everywhere, from the Deep Core to the Mid-Rim, from the Colonies to the Outer Rim.

I soaked myself in the rains of Kamino, and swam in the endless waters of Mon Calamari.

I hacked my way into the jungles of Rodia, and hiked across the arid deserts and dunes of Socorro.

I waded through the mires of mud on Jabiim, and walked on the grassy plains of Dantooine.

I went down into the deep magma caves of Saleucami, and touched the clouds over the skies of Bespin.

And as I went to all these places, I went on raids, assaults, sieges, rescues, and all other kinds of missions, both open and secret, taking out lots of droids and CIS soldiers with every step I took along the way.

All in all, everything I've read tells me I've built up quite a bit of mileage during my time in the armed forces. More mileage than a good thousand or so civilians will ever see combined.

And I haven't even reached middle age yet.

Hell, I haven't even turned thirty yet.

Now, you'd think knowing all of this would give me a ton of pride. That I'd feel real proud of myself for being a guy who was good enough to make valedictorian of his class at a damned fine military academy, and was also good enough to get himself into it's Spe

 

Wow. That was very powerful and extremely well done!

What I can't tell people is what the places I lived in looked like, or what it was like growing up as a kid on those two lively hubs of human life and activity. I can't tell anyone what my mom's hug felt like, or even if she ever did hug me. I can't tell anyone how my dad played with me when I was a kid, or even if he was around the house at all. I can't tell anyone if I felt happy or sad when I moved, or how it felt to say good-bye to my friends. Provided, of course, that I had any friends worth mentioning there at all, which is yet another thing I wouldn't be able to tell anyone about for sure.

If anyone came up to me and asked me what career I'd chosen, I could tell them I chose to be a soldier. If anyone asked me where I was trained, I could tell them that I graduated top of my class at Corulag Academy, and that I also was a graduate from their Special Forces branch. In fact, I could even tell people the names given to the kinds of training I went through if they asked me about them.

Simply wonderful!

 

Time for replies!

VadeyKim: Wow. That was very powerful and extremely well done!

I'm glad you liked it, Kim! And I'm glad you thought it had impact. I wanted to show Llednar's feelings on getting "facts" drilled into his head (by Seerdon and by his own self through the datapad), yet not being able to truly "get" the story those facts make up because he can't remember actually living those facts out (so he wouldn't know the little things that make those facts a part of life). Judging by your reaction, I think I did that, at least to some extent. And I'm glad.

Simply wonderful!

Thanks! And I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Specterace

 

Alright, I'm back! It took a while (thank college for that) but here's the next entry of Llednar's diary...

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 5, Day 4, Year 0 A.E.D

Diary Entry #37

I got some good news today.

No, I didn't get discharged. I'm still here in the Senate Hospital, in the very same room I've been in since the end of the Clone Wars. Apparently, though the doctor told me he was done with all his tests a week ago, I've still got to wait some more for all the paperwork to get through Imperial Military Command. It seems that nowadays, the government has tightened things up to where even an inactive member of the old GAR who never actually got around to officially getting into the Imperial Army has to suffer through the tortures of the military's red tape.

Which I suppose would be better than having the kind of loose, inefficient government that forced a soldier like me to stay in a civilian hospital rather than transferring me to the Military Infirmary I should have gone to in the first place. Had they done that, maybe it wouldn't have taken someone four stanging months to realize I, Llednar Kinneas, was actually alive. But I digress.

Anyway, what was I writing about? Oh, right. The good news I got today.

No, the good news wasn't that I got any of my memories back. I'm still drawing blanks when it comes to recalling anything about my past life. Or at least, anything that isn't a jumble of symbols and characters on a datapad anyone can read.

But my good news, happily enough, is related to that last bit.

To be exact, it's about something that might just be able to help me out on what's now become my mission in life.

Earlier today, Moff Seerdon came by again to talk to me. Only this time, he didn't just come by to talk business with me, or just to see how I was doing. This wasn't going to be one of those little private sessions where it'd just be the two of us sitting down together talking about stuff like my past and how things were going in the outside world. No, from the moment Seerdon walked through my door, I knew I wouldn't be getting a repeat of his first visit, that's for sure.

How did I know that?

Simple.

He didn't come alone this time.

This time, he brought a doctor I'd never seen before. Or at least, he brought a man who I immediately took for a doctor, given that he wore a white lab coat, an expensive-looking formal shirt, a pair of fine tailored slacks, and a pair of square-rimmed transparisteel spectacles. From my extensive experience with the Holonet, that was the official uniform of the well-to-do physician who preferred to spend more time in his clinic or in his research lab than in the great (or not so great, being that this is Coruscant) outdoors.

As it turned out, I was right. Shortly after greeting me (and after regretfully informing me that my discharge was still being put through), Seerdon introduced his companion as Cidolfus Hojo Denansa, a doctor from Seerdon's home planet of Naboo.

This Cidolfus Denansa (or Hojo, as he apparently likes to be called by his middle name) then told me a little more about himself, and revealed the reason why he came all the way here to Coruscant today. According to him, he?s the head of one of the medical teams at Naboo's newly built Lunatic Wisdom Laboratory. This place, which commonly goes by the name "Luna Lab", is an important medical facility located on the coast of the continent of Junon near the El Nido Archipelago. It?s a facility dedicated to both the research and treatment of all kinds of diseases and disabilities known to sentient-kind. As part of their research-based work, the people at the Luna Lab put a lot of their efforts into inventing and developing new ways to treat beings, and on coming up with the cutting-edge technology needed to help them do it.

That brought Denansa to why he'd come to see me today.

Apparently, Denansa is a neurologist who specializes in everything dealing with brain damage due to trauma. In more simple terms (or as I like to cal

 

So I did what Denansa asked me to do. I thought things over carefully and considered his offer as well as I could.

For all of about five whole seconds.

Then I called him back, looked him in the eye, and told him I wanted to go through with it as soon as possible.

No surprises there, huh? Or at least, there shouldn't be.



Looking forward to more!

 

WOW. That is powerful. Really powerful. Great job! Keep writing and add me to the PM list please???

 

Alright, I'm sorry it took me so long to update this, but I've been ridiculously busy with school for the last several months, and I hadn't had time to get this done. Still, I know I got an amazing reprive all this time, and I will not waste it. Particularly since I have just graduated from college this past Sunday! So now I will have a lot more free time and things will hopefully clear up even more for me and my creative powers from here on out.

Now, onto the next part of Mr. Kinneas' diary. Or should I say... well, I'll just put this up and see if you guys can tell where that last hesitation was going...

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 5, Day 6, Year 0 A.E.D

Diary Entry #39

There's a little saying I've been hearing a lot on those Holonet drama series that take up my viewing time in the hours of the afternoon and the evening these days.

It goes something like this: You never really appreciate what you have until it's gone.

Granted, the exact wording isn't always like that, since it changes depending on who says it and when. But the basic message is the same. You never truly understand the value of something until you have to live without it.

Personally, I think there's a lot of truth behind that saying. The thing is, though, I didn't really start believing in that truth just because I lost something. Yeah, I lost my memories, and I'd bet everything I have (as little as that may be right now) that I've never given them more thought than I have since I lost them. But even that didn't hammer home the saying I'm talking about as an absolute fact of life. No, what really made me think of that saying as words to live by was that I saw the truth behind its extension.

Namely, that once you get something you lost BACK, you appreciate it far more than you used to. Maybe even far more than it deserves. You appreciate every thing about it, down to its smallest details. Details you probably never gave a second thought to before. Details you probably never even noticed before.

So what is it that's making me think of stuff like this?

Simple.

Today, I officially became Cid Denansa's patient. Volunteer patient, yes, but patient nonetheless.

Which means today is the day I began Denansa's treatment program.

As of right now, I've been Denansa's patient for about half a day. To be exact, it's been 11 hours and 37 minutes since I first made my way into that specially prepared room Denansa and his team set up ten floors below me, and put myself through whatever the hell that fancy machine of theirs does that's supposed to heal my brain.

(Yeah, I know that makes me sound like some kind of ignorant simpleton and all, but come on, what do you expect from me? For stars' sake, I'm a former soldier, not a former scientific genius. I'm far more interested in getting the Imperial Medal of Honor than the Imperial Science Accolade. If anyone has anything to ask about neurology or medicine, I'm the last guy they should be coming to for answers.)

Put it another way, it was only those 11 and a half hours ago that I first laid eyes on the machine that was supposed to help me undo just about all the effects of the last few months. It was a fancy looking thing with several thick bundles of wires and cables coming out from it, going up the walls, and connecting to a bunch of consoles and machines both in the room and in a room next to it that was separated by a door and a wide window. The best way I could describe its shape would be as a kind of rectangular bed-like thing attached to a closed-up ring that has a deep enough opening to create an overhang covering the upper half of the bed. Inside the ring is a helmet-like headpiece that hangs down from the top of the overhang on several cables. The point of the machine, then, is to lie down on the bed, strap yourself in, put on the headpiece, and get pushed in, waiting to get whatever that machine and the team treating you does done.

If that sounds a

 

Reply time!

VadeyKim: Looking forward to more!

Thanks. And I certainly look forward to writing more! And consistently this time!

jazjediundercover: WOW. That is powerful. Really powerful. Great job! Keep writing and add me to the PM list please???

I'm pleased you like it! I'll certainly try my best to put up as much of this as possible, especially since I've now got a lot more free time. And sure, I'll put you on the PM list.

Thanks guys, and I'll see you again soon.

Specterace

 

Yet, despite all that, I find myself focusing on what I can see. Like, just what possible reason is there for that group of girls to all look just like each other, to the point where it doesn?t seem like a coincidence anymore? I mean, when else do you get a situation where you get a group of girls that all look like each other so much that they could pass for each other?s twins? Two look-alikes together, I can write off as chance. Three, I could write off too, though it?d make me think for a second. But four or five girls all getting together and dressing alike and everything? That doesn?t look like a coincidence anymore to me. Somebody did that intentionally, for some particular reason. But what? Protection? Concealment? Deception? All of the above? That?s a question I can?t answer.

Just like I can?t answer the question of what it is about that little blond-haired boy and those eyes of his. Because the more I look back and recall that little boy, the more I keep thinking that I should know who he is (which, of course, I don?t). Especially when I think about that smile he gave me and the way those eyes of his lit up when he did so. He looked like he was happy with something that had to do with me, as if I was his best friend and I was just invited to spend Winter Fete Week at his house. But what does all that mean? Were we friends, then? If so, did we keep in touch over the years? Where is he now, and does he know where I am and what?s become of me now? If he does, why hasn?t he come to see me? Does he even care about me anymore, or did we have some sort of falling-out that?s made him forget about me? And why am I all of a sudden getting the urge to focus on him in particular, and not anyone else like the Rodian boy, or any of the girls, or the clone troopers, or the net-ball players, or anyone else.

Okay, LOTS of thoughts racing around my head now! I can't wait for you to update this so we can learn more! GREAT update, the best so far, I think.

 

Alright, this next part will be short and maybe a little wierd, but it'll be interesting as well, or at least I hope it will. I will say that some things from here will be HUGE in Llednar's story going forward, but I'll leave it at that.

Anyway, enjoy.

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Galactic Senate Medcenter, Imperial Center, Coruscant. Month 5, Day 18, Year 0 A.E.D

Diary Entry #51

Curse the stars. I feel like my damned head is spinning and flooded with icewater or something. Doctor Hojo kind of warned me that I?d have some tough days this month. The kind of days where I?d feel like my mind is packed with more stuff than I can handle. Days where I?d feel so crummy that I?d never want to leave my own bed. But still, hearing about one of those days and actually going through one of those days are two different things. They?re not the same thing at all, and I?ll bang my aching skull over and over against anyone who doesn?t agree to prove it.

I mean, it?s so bad that I don?t even know how or where I?m getting the energy to write this entry today. It?s probably habit, I guess. Or maybe it?s just something I like to do so much that I?ll feel even worse later if I don?t do it. Whatever it is, I?m here.

Still, I don?t really feel like writing about much of those old memories I?ve been getting back anymore. I don?t feel like writing about that little blond boy and that little brown-haired girl standing next to me as we?re hanging around this weird-looking silver machine painted in blue and yellow that looks like a big swoop bike with two engines hooked up to it by these thick cables. Or about this really big but really nice-looking place with all these tan walls and these blue-green dome roofs that looked like it had lots of rooms and buildings that were all connected to each other or grew out of each other, kinda like a royal palace or something, though it?d be weird to hear why anyone would build a palace over a waterfall. Or about walking up this really big mountain on this rocky planet full of red earth with this really weird group of what I guess are soldiers, seeing how they?re all walking all straight and formal and everything, though they?re all of different species and they?re not dressed in any kinds of uniforms that I?ve ever heard of, especially not those people wearing what look like cloaks or robes of some kind. And some of them are even bringing up this really long pole, and some of the others are bringing up what looks like a really big white flag with something red on it, but I can?t really tell what it is since it?s kinda folded up.

Oh damn, how stupid am I right now? I just started writing about the kinda stuff I was just saying that I didn?t want to write about. And I feel like my head?s spinning even more and it?s getting harder for me to focus on what I?m writing.

Damn, I guess I better stop and go to sleep now, and do this some other day. Sorry, but I guess I?ll see you some other time, when I get my head cleared up enough and I can make sense of all this.

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As always, R&R, please!

Specterace