Awakening to Light

[Corporal Light]

Resting on a cot, feathered blankets soaking up the blood from his wounds, he awoke to pure light.

Clone Medical Corporal 10093-- known more as “Corporal Light” amongst his brothers-in-arms for the twin pairs of bulb-shaped lights taped to the sides of his plastoid helmet-- couldn’t help but feel confused regarding the whiteness surrounding him. It held an angelic glow bright enough to be noticable but dim enough to be almost soothing, heavenly. The glow stretched far into the distance, making mirages of horizons. It stretched far enough that the floor seemed to disappear into a sea of white plastic, a sea that held no darkness, no night.

Groggy, his mind still clouded from the effects of adrenaline, painkillers, and bacta, Corporal Light slid out from underneath the sheets of his medical cot. He stumbled to the ground, legs wobbling, pain from the burns and gashes on his chest looming over his body like a shadow. He brought an arm down to stabilize himself, fingers brushing against the plastoid texture of the endless whiteness before he pushed himself back up. As he rose, the pain fell; he stashed it into a locked chest and melted the key in a bright flame. His current location mattered more than his battered body did.

He looked around. Was this Heaven? Was this what some of his fellow clones called Heaven? They had told stories of golden gates, of waterfalls, of spirits and endless light. Was this what they had meant? If so, where were the others? The other brothers fallen to warfare? He could not have been alone. If he could make it to Heaven, surely his fellow clones could.

Wait, who did tell me those stories?

The sound of rushing water caught his attention. He turned around.

An opulent, white marble fountain sat at chest height a few feet behind the bloodied Galactic Republic medical cot. Small waterfalls flowed from the edges of circular discs that jutted out of the surface of the pool inside the fountain. Light walked closer, licking his parched, dry lips, his throat seeking rejuvenating liquid that hadn’t been preheated by a standard-issue Galactic Republic canteen.

He moved up to the edge of the fountain and stared into the pool. He saw nothing but the face of his brethren, albeit one still capable of managing a smile. Still, he could not help but search for his true face within the clear, life-saving liquid.

The worm of thirst slithering up his throat caused Light to abandon his search for his helmet for the time being. He brought a mouthful of water up to his lips and drank. It did wonders dulling the pain in his chest, steadying his wobble, and wettening his throat. Wherever and whatever this place was, at least it had the luxury of decent water. There were many soldiers, many battlefields, many worlds that didn’t have that. At least here, there was no blaster fire, no ash and smoke that consumed the air like swarms of locusts savaging crops. A perfect world as perfect and pristine as the Republic he had defended for so long. He wondered what the other clones would think of it, or at the very least the older brothers. He imagined they wouldn’t believe it, but what was there to not believe?  

He sat down along the edge of the fountain, his thirst quenched. With it quenched, he could focus on his immediate surroundings. He returned to the question that had continued nagging him since he had awoken from his slumber: where, exactly, was he? Also, where was his helmet?

He groaned, his face muscles twitching. He pressed his fingers to his temples and squeezed. He dared not close his eyes as he worked the dusty cogs of his rusted, drug-addled machine of a mind.

He looked up, the visions of the past hazy.

Then, like a switch, light transitioned to darkness.

The transition occurred so fast that Light felt whiplash from the sheer shock of it. The sudden encroachment of the dark sent his heart into conniptions and almost catapulted him out of the memory. It took all of his willpower to keep his concentration going. He pressed harder against his skull; his fingers dug into his tanned skin. He had felt the scorching pain of a blaster and the emotional torment of a fallen brother, but the anguish of darkness was something else. Any pain was better than darkness.

Then, he saw it. A tall white angel of a figure woven with soothing light and an enlarged, reassuring smile on its face. It held an orb of colorful incandescence in its outstretched hand. Its colors swirled in outlandish shapes and lines; it sparkled in a chaotic fashion and yet somehow contained enough order to maintain its form.

“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours."

With the figures words, it departed, along with the memory, along with the choking darkness. He returned to light.

Anything I desire…

He stared down at his hands. He continued staring, his mind drawing shapes around his fingers.

He felt something tug within, like someone had tied strings around his inner self and pulled on them to urge it into motion. His eyes remained wide open as an orb of Omnillium, in all of its colorful glory, rose from the depths of his palm. He stared into the colored lights as they melted back into his hand before suddenly zipping and twirling around his fingers. They were like ribbons floating through wind, like the ribbons of the festival of Tynion that flowed through the air in a storm of red and pink.

Minutes passed; it felt like hours to Light-- the flaring incandescence of Omnillium could truly dazzle. He could stare into its colors forever if he wanted to. But, as those minutes came to an end, so too did the ribbons of red and pink and the tugging feeling inside his gut. Only his orange-striped helmet remained as evidence of those sights and those feelings.

He brought the helmet up to his head where it belonged. It felt comfortable. He turned on the twin lights attached to his helmet as if adjusting a crown. Their lights burned brighter than the whiteness of the Nexus.

[Corporal Light]

Two hours later

The only thing that stopped Corporal Light from letting the blood seeping from his wounds, his oil-like darkness enveloping his insides, from consuming him outright was the small, grey speck on the horizon mirage.

He had been limping towards that grey speck for what felt like hours, concentrating only on it. He stayed silent throughout his journey save for the clacking of his armored boots and the occasional whine of pain he emitted when his wounds proved too much even for him to take. The gashes, small, stained red underneath the gauze of his bandages, throbbed and ached and painted the front of his armor in a dirty crimson. With the unholy combination of dark red and bleached white, his visage proved striking to any who could have seen him: a soldier, caked in blood, stumbling through an unfamiliar land, with only what laid in front of him ahead of him.

He limped and limped, his limps mechanical, like his knees had turned into gears, and even his occasional groans morphed into something oddly robotic. No human could keep going for two minutes, much less two hours, with the way his wounds impeded him so. The way they ground him down with mortar and pestle, chunking him until nothing of his body could be chunked any more. Yet, despite the wear and tear of his armor and the charred flesh underneath it, Corporal Light saw nothing but that small, grey speck on that horizon mirage. As long as he could see it, he would not stop, no matter how much his dark wounds wanted him to.

Still, the speck did not draw closer. He couldn’t help but wonder if the grey object off in the distance was a figment of his imagination or not. It would have been easy to explain it away as a mere fantasy, a hallucination of the mind. But he witnessed the pure beauty of the glowing rainbow orb, the Omnillium. If something like that could exist, than that grey object so far away would draw closer with time.

Time. Perhaps it had something to do with time. Time didn’t seem to matter in the desert of whiteness. Why would it? There was nothing save for that grey dot, no night or day. Or did night and day exist, but in another form? Perhaps had been lucky and had awakened during the day. Maybe the night was like the White Angel’s realm: pitch black, all-consuming, suffocating. The thought made him tremble.

Then he remembered what the White Angel had said: anything he desired could be his. As long as he had Omnillium in his possession, the darkness posed no threat to him. It made him smile and sigh in relief.

Even despite his newfound goal of investigating the speck on the horizon, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the Galactic Republic, the ray of light shining in the darkness of space and warfare. If he had arrived in this place, whatever and wherever it was, surely other clones, other jedi, had done the same. If so, where were the signs of their arrival?  He had found nothing but a fountain and his own cot, with everything else being sheer whiteness. He did not know. Perhaps the grey speck held the answer.

Time seemed to move by the longer he stayed contained within his own thoughts, as by the time he had finished contemplating, the speck had grown larger and formed an object of its own. It formed a massive, magnificent archway composed of solid, pristine steel. A massive oval of purple and black swirled and rotated underneath the arch, with a large black dot in the middle where the stripes of colors seemed to inevitably descend into. He couldn’t but stare in confusion. Not even the most advanced hologram in the galaxy could construct something so fantastical.

What truly caught his attention, however, were the two pairs of white-claden, armored soldiers standing on both sides of the massive arch. He couldn’t help but draw comparisons between their armor and his own. Indeed, when he got a good look at them, they looked like special forces utilizing the new armor that had only been rumored about back on the ship, the ‘Acklay.’ The blasters they carried even looked like more advanced versions of his own DC-15s that he carried on his utility belt alongside his medical kit.

The twin guards turned to look at them, their helmets giving off intimidating glares at Light’s gaping awe. Despite what Light assumed must have been disapproval, they did not commit to further action. At least, not until Light stumbled towards them to get a closer look at them. He noticed them tense up and flinch. He assumed the blood threw them off, but given his state, it wasn’t like he could hurt them even if he wanted to.

Light stopped in front of the left-side trooper and stared at them. The two of them committed to a small staring contest that ended with Light not-so-subtly eying the fellow trooper up and down. He couldn’t really help it. Seeing the rumored Phase 2 armor with his own eyes, plus all the new equipment, was an opportunity he could not resist. He wondered what it must have felt like to wear the suit. It definitely looked much more comfortable than his tin can of a suit.

As he glanced back up at the fellow soldier’s helmet, he noticed just how rock-solid still they were. Without the previous cock of the head from when he approached them, he’d have no way of knowing they weren’t just expertly-crafted statues. He chanced to speak.

“Are you…” Corporal Light said, almost lifting his hand up to confirm that the trooper in front of him was real, “a clone?”

“... No.” The trooper in front of him said, her cadence distinctly feminine in sound.

He stared in confusion. “What is that armor you are wearing?”

They shrugged. “Standard issue Empire Division armor.”

“Standard issue?” He said, his eyes widening in amazement.

“Yep.”

“... when were you born?”

The feminine-sounding trooper jolted, stunned.

“What?”

“When were you born?” Light asked.

“I… I don’t know.” The trooper tensed up, very clearly stepping away from the medical soldier.

Light frowned a bit, taking a step back after seeing the trooper do the same. “What?”

“Are you a Prime?” The feminine-sounding trooper asked.

“I…” Light said, glancing around, “I… I don't know.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s in there?”

The medic pointed towards the purple swirls underneath the archway.

“The home of the Empire: Coruscant.”

“Coruscant?!” Light said, snapping his head back to look at the trooper, “the Coruscant? The heartland of the Galactic Republic?!”

“Er, yes.”

“That’s terrific! That’s fantastic!” The Corporal couldn’t help but smile with abject glee and even laugh in triumph.

“Heh, yeah.”

“Send my regards to your superior! Tell them you should be promoted for your fine work!”

Light looked back towards the right-side soldier, whom had been watching their conversation with varying degrees of interest. He pointed at the both of them.

“Both of you! Feel proud! You are the guardians of the gates of Coruscant! For carrying this duty, you should both be rewarded! Send my regards to your superiors!”

Before either soldier could comprehend what this bloodied, battered clone trooper was talking about, the clone had already charged into the purple swirls, ready to see the glorious planet of Coruscant through his own measly clone eyes.