15 Chapter 14

Anakin glanced at the corner of his helmet, the eye tracker sensing the command. Looking back at the table, he watched as the cybernetic hand opened its fist, the fingers uncurling one at a time before wiggling and then snapping closed again.

Leaning back, he looked up to see one of the ex-ABB teens walking out of the room at the end of the hallway and hurry towards his friend, grabbing the heavy box from one side and helping him move it towards its destination, a stern faced young woman watched them.

The girl was young, no more than 20, and Anakin caught the wave of fear that emanated from her when she caught him looking. Grabbing both boys by the head, she forced them to the floor and then knelt herself.

"Susanoo-sama, we have finished," she said, her voice steady despite the fear. "Will you require anything else?"

"No, it is sufficient," he dismissed them from his mind, turning back to the robotic hand. "You may leave."

Almost as one, they hurried out of the workshop, doing their best to not break out into a run until they thought to be away from his perception.

After killing Lung, the ABB had been perfectly content to supply him with all the components they had previously reserved for Bakuda's use. Most of the surplus supplies had been inside her main lair and, thus, apprehended by PRT, but there were several stashes left on separate locations. More importantly, they had a secondary workshop a half-step away from being fully operational for her use.

The location was lacking in many ways, but it did have a variety of advanced tools and enough room for him to work, as well as accommodations for the girl and the basic amenities of an average house.

With everything, he had easily been able to build an advanced geological compressor for improved crystals, work on Dinah's temporary hand and start several other projects.

Taking the mask off, he put it on the table and glanced aside. "You are not pushing up."

The youngling just growled at him, her arm trembling from exhaustion as she took her eyes away from the prosthetic and pushed, lifting her body up, a bead of sweat falling down from her neck to join the others on the floor.

Ever since Coil's attempt on the girl, Anakin had fulfilled his promise, forcing the girl to double her efforts. Her days started and ended with Matukai training, a few hours of rest between the sessions.

She also had two hours of body conditioning every day before lunch. That should teach her not to bury herself under rubble, or at least to survive doing so.

While that hadn't really made Dinah an expert, the liberal use of Force Healing had made her week of training the equivalent of three months for a normal human, the Force accelerating her natural healing and muscle development.

Coupled with the fact Matukai teachings naturally empowered her body with the Force, even minimally, Dinah had gone from barely doing 3 push-ups with one arm to being able to do three sets of 15 between healing sessions.

Yes, it did not make her a match for an adult man, far from it… and her Force sensitivity only had a very minimal increase, but the training made her much stronger than before and, more importantly, vastly more dexterous.

Finishing another four push-ups, she collapsed to the floor, a groan leaving her lips as she pitifully glanced at him, her body almost melting against the floor.

He ignored her.

Shaking her body on the floor, Dinah groaned again, her stare burning a hole through the back of his head. With a sigh, Anakin turned his chair and lifted a hand, Dinah's body rising in the air and floating towards him.

"You are not finished with your exercises."

"Yeah but… are you done?" she asked, taking off the small mask she had on and throwing it away before righting herself in the air. "Is it ready?"

"Yes," he sighed, pulling the robotic arm towards him with a thought. "Grab the glove from your other hand."

"YES!"

Rushing away, Dinah grabbed the first makeshift hand he had given her, a very simple thing adapted from a local prosthetic store. He had installed a few magnets and electronic commands so it could grab things. The device had lasted her a week until he could build something better, but Dinah had NOT appreciated the delay.

"Come on, you promised me a robot hand not… this," she growled with disgust as she stripped the padded inner glove from the primitive prosthetic, trying to fit it on her stump. "I want my robot hand."

It was a pity Anakin could not just take the girl to a hospital and use Mind Tricks to have her be treated by Panacea. He could compel the healer to use her power, that would not be hard, but the Force warned that a subtler approach simply wouldn't work.

No, contacting Panacea in any way would lead to a heavy Protectorate response and, while he could deal with that and any subsequent attacks with relative ease, it would mean constantly having to fight, not having time to properly train the youngling or build the things he needed.

Regardless, Dinah was far more interested in getting a prosthetic than her full arm back, at least for the moment. Her power told her she'd have the chance in a couple of months and she was content waiting for that moment.

Unfortunately, even if he had the necessary materials or equipment to build the biomechanical device, the synth-net neural interface to connect it to her organic tissue AND the facility in which to perform the surgery, it would only mean having to take it all off when that time came to restore her organic limb.

Anakin hated to admit it, but the best he could do was create a droid hand, made with subpar materials and controlled by visual, voice and movement commands. He had coded a few common responses such as grabbing things, shaking hands and other common movements, but that was the extent of it.

Well, the girl HAD asked for a robot hand, not a cybernetic one.

"Come here," he said.

Glancing up, Dinah hurried towards his chair and handed him the glove before extending the remains of her arm.

With Force healing, the stump had healed completely, leaving a nub of perfectly pink skin without even a scar. Anakin gently grabbed it, turning to see if there was any irritation from using the glove, but it didn't seem to hurt her.

Finally, he fitted the padded glove on her limb and lifted the robotic arm from his lap, gently adjusting it on her glove before securing it in place.

Stepping back, Dinah lifted the prosthetic and pumped a fist, the metal fingers squeezing tightly.

"Cool!" Looking up with shining eyes, she asked. "Did you put one of the lasers inside it?"

"No, I did not put a laser inside the prosthetic," he sighed. "If you wish to shoot someone, you're perfectly capable of doing so with a proper weapon."

"Less cool. So, how do I control it?"

Extending his hand again, Anakin pulled a pair of glasses from the table, the assessor slowly settling on Dinah's face. "Like your mask, the glasses will track your eye movement and translate it into commands. You can also command it with your voice or program common responses with your computer."

"Huh, middle finger," she immediately said, smiling as the hand obeyed. "Knife hand, Vulcan salute."

The last one didn't happen, he had no idea what such salute meant and so hadn't coded the response. After a moment, the hand simply relaxed back into a neutral position. Still, Dinah seemed content with the new arm, forgetting all about her exhaustion and starting to play around by grabbing a discarded bar of metal, having the hand squeeze it until the material started to bend.

"Back to your exercises," Anakin said after a few moments.

"Really?" Dinah stopped, turning to look at him. In her mechanical hand, the metal bar broke in two, a piece falling to each side. "I mean, really?!"

Anakin just lifted an eyebrow.

"Hal, help me out here," she said, glancing at the droid resting on top of the shelf.

The TRD-01's frame had been a complete loss, but Anakin managed to save all of its programming, as well as fixing the gravity controllers, installing it all on a new frame, one that better resembled a head. Later, when he had the time, he planned to finish building the rest of the body with Bakuda's supplies.

"I'm sorry, Dinah, I'm afraid I can't do that," the droid said, taking advantage of its newly installed vocabulator.

"Ugh, I really shouldn't have given you that name," the girl grumbled, dropping down to the mat. "Just don't start killing humans like the one in the movies."

"Hal 9000's actions were perfectly reasonable and in accordance with his programming. Any mistakes were a result of human error," said the droid in an emotionless, and yet still haughty voice. "His primary directive was to ensure the success of the mission. Being clearly far superior to the meatbags present, his continued function was, factually, the preferred option."

"Riiight," shooting Anakin a look, she asked. "You sure everything's fine?"

"Yes," Anakin shrugged. "Some droids develop… unconventional personalities, but his programming is entirely safe. At least he's not repeating 'roger-roger'."

Looking at her annoyed eyes, Anakin couldn't help the small smile from reaching his face. Shaking his head, he let her restart her exercises and walked towards the kitchen, igniting the primitive gas stove.

Grabbing a pan, he filled it with water and started to heat it up before getting the pasta from one of the cabinets, spreading the spaghetti evenly inside the water and waiting for it to soften before pushing it entirely under the water.

Staring at the food woke up old memories inside him, his hand pausing in the middle of getting another pot.

.

.

Standing in a simple kitchen with his mother. Sharing time, laughs and memories as she made him fetch pots. Measure flour or slice the hauron bread when he was old enough to hold a knife, even learning how to cook on the fireplace. The ever-present feeling of family was so different from the distance he always felt in the Temple.

.

.

Did Luke experience something like this? He knew the boy had grown up with his half brother… Anakin hoped he had received the same love.

In truth, Anakin had barely known his brother and, even seeing his body and walking through his house, he hadn't felt anything. No, he had only felt anger. That Owen had dared hide Luke from him. That he and his wife had died before Vader could get his hands on them.

Shaking his head, he glanced back towards the girl, her back against the mattress as she rested between reps. Eyes widening, he felt it, the beginnings of the bond, his power stretching towards her through the Force even when she couldn't truly reciprocate.

With a flex of his mind, he gripped the connection and thought about snapping it. A Force bond was a powerful thing, allowing it to form would let her have a deeper understanding of him, a greater ability to sense his thoughts and feelings… he did not think she deserved that burden.

Even now, it was a struggle to contain his anger, his hate. He did not want to expose her to that.

Still, he stopped himself, releasing the fragile connection and letting it continue. The girl was still weak, far below the level of even the youngest in the Temple, even if the bond was fully forged, it would be such a small thing, only giving her a hint of his moods and nothing more.

More importantly, it would be another safety net, allowing him to locate her even on a different planet in case anything happened.

Releasing a breath, he finished getting another pan and started to prepare the sauce. It had been decades since he last cooked anything, but he trusted the Force… and the recipes he found on the computer.

Anakin and Dinah finished at the same time, the girl making a point of pushing herself up with her new arm, the action taking a couple of seconds as she fiddled with the visual commands.

"I think I'm getting the 'hand' of this," she said, smirking up at him.

"Oh?" he asked, putting her plate on the table.

"Yep," she nodded. "89% chances I learn to use it fully by next week."

After stretching a little, she sat down and frowned at the cutlery, her eyes moving around to try and command the arm with the visual tracking software, her eyes flickering around and the tip of her tongue unconsciously poking out of her mouth.

Lifting a finger, he flicked her forehead with the Force, causing her to rear back. "You are going to give yourself a headache, again."

"Humph," picking up her fork with her good hand, she gathered the spaghetti and started eating, a moan leaving her mouth as she tasted the food.

"Tell me of your progress," he finally said, wiping his mouth.

"Well, Coil controls the Undersiders, the Travelers, Circus, and a lot of mercenaries. But there's like, a 4% chance the mercenaries agree to anger you and Undersiders would happily leave him if given the chance," Dinah said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I know they betray him eventually. It was how I was supposed to escape before you. I just don't know why. Still, there's like, a 68% chance I can poach most of them away from him."

"Good. What of his power?"

"I'm pretty sure he can try things and his power tells him the result, but I think he's more versatile than me, like, I think he can see the results, not just the numbers, or a yes and no answer," Dinah said, slurping some more spaghetti. "I know he's testing us, but nothing is happening…"

"How many times? How much time between the tests?" Anakin asked.

"I… don't know?" she huffed. "I mean, it's so annoying, the numbers keep changing."

"Find out. Discovering your enemy's limitations is essential to defeating him."

"Can't you just tell me?"

"Yes," he promptly answered, ready to tell her if she pressed, but Dinah just released another frustrated huff and didn't ask anything else.

Anakin almost snorted when he saw she had managed to get the prosthetic tapping a finger on the table, her eyes closed as she used her power.

"He… his probes take time, there's almost 0% chance he makes two tries at the same time, I think he also can't do it too often."

"What does that indicate?"

"His power isn't instantaneous? He doesn't get numbers like me so, maybe he gets a vision or something and it takes time to watch?" she wondered to herself. "Or maybe he gets headaches and has to rest, but no, the pain doesn't go away that fast."

Angrily biting into the fork, Dinah finished her meal and sighed, massaging her forehead.

"Your enemy is not invincible, his power has limitations," Anakin said, pushing himself up and gathering the plates. "Very likely, your power also interferes with his. Do not feel pressured. Remember, it is likely he is as frustrated as you by this impasse."

Walking around the table, he took a second to mess with her hair, earning himself a glare before taking everything to the sink.

Moving towards the heavily curtained windows, closed to keep anyone from being able to look inside, Anakin stood with his back towards the girl, his Force senses spreading out from the room and towards the watcher on a nearby building.

They had been getting bolder every day, less careful. As the girl said, Coil was clearly testing his range and ability again. It was… irritating.

"His kind are manipulators. They do not have allies, only pawns" he finally said without turning. "Masterminds such as he require influence, information and, more importantly, a projected sense of invincibility to keep their pawns from turning on them. While Coil still appears strong, his power IS limited and he must have burned much of his influence to keep away from the light, to shift the blame fully onto the Travelers."

"So… you're saying he's vulnerable?"

"Yes, with two failures that resulted in losses, he is finding it more difficult to project that aura of invincibility," Anakin nodded.

In many ways, Coil reminded him of a pathetic reflection of Sidious, of how he acted before rising as Emperor. His moves were familiar, his way of thinking, his control over information and perception. It was likely they also shared the same goal.

While Sidious played with the Galaxy, Coil played with this city. Anakin could feel his influence, small as it was.

The meeting he had attended had been about how to deal with the ABB. Supposedly a communal discussion and yet, three of the teams there were working for Coil, with the villain looking to hire Faultline too.

He had no doubt Coil already had plans on how to deal with the Empire and PRT, either destroying or taking control of them, probably the latter. Another reason not to join the organization, not that he needed it.

Refocusing on the watcher monitoring them from the building at the end of the street, he felt the mercenary's mind, the fear, but also the malice and greed there. If allowed to remain, the man would be quite happy to eliminate them given the chance.

Anakin lifted his hand, thumb and forefingers pinched as he used the Force to squeeze the man's throat. He had tolerated their presence enough; it was time to remind them of Coil's failures.

Inside the clean room, one of Coil's mercenaries collapsed to his knees, dropping the listening device he had been installing and grasping at his neck in desperation, his eyes going red as Anakin choked the life out of him. With a 'crack' the man's bones collapse inwards, his body losing strength and flopping to the floor.

Standing in place, Anakin's expressionless face reflected on the glass window, his blue eyes staring straight ahead without a hint of emotion as he managed to channel the dark side without losing himself.

With a sigh, he stopped channeling the Dark Side. He should not have done that. It was hasty and a step back, but the comparison to his former master had left him feeling aggrieved.

Once again, Anakin reminded himself he planned to let Dinah deal with Coil herself. Still, that did not mean he'd allow her to be under any risk, or that he could not give her some help.

People as a whole did not enjoy the prospect of dying. Soldiers, gang members, slaves… they all accepted the risks involved, by it from a sense of duty, belief, fear or desperation.

Mercenaries did not.

No, trained mercenaries were only interested in payment and, more importantly, being alive to enjoy said payment. They did not fight for the losing side and this death would only make things harder for the villain, eroding their trust in his power even more.

"What're you doing?" Dinah asked, peeking at him from the sofa.

"There was an insect," he said, lowering his hand, his eyes growing warmer as he turned towards her.

Dropping her head back down against the pillow, the girl lifted her new hand, playing around with the visual tracker to give it several commands, watching the metallic fingers making complex movements in front of her face.

Lifting his cape, Anakin unclasped the lock on the second lightsaber at his belt, grabbing the smaller white hilt and pulling it out, the weapon feeling fragile in his large hand.

"You really should have taken Lung's place, I so wanted his rocking chair," Dinah commented.

Upon meeting the ABB, the gang leaders had offered him the deceased dragon's place in their hierarchy, including his house. Anakin had no interest in the location and, outside of freeing the two slaves Lung kept imprisoned; he did not care what happened to it.

When he walked inside, he could feel an echo of the suffering done there and, while small in the face of what Anakin himself had done, it would still slightly disrupt anyone meditating on the Force, forcing them to block the pain and suffering done there.

As for the Dark Side, he did not need any help with it.

"This place is acceptable," he said, throwing the handle towards her. "Here."

Registering the movement through the camera in her glasses, her robot arm moved with precision, snapping up and grabbing the Lightsaber from the air with ease.

Nearly catapulting herself up, the girl stared at the weapon with sparkles in her eyes. "I thought you weren't going to make me one?" she asked, barely contained glee in her voice.

"I… have changed my mind."

"I knew it was working! The puppy-dog eyes always work!" she almost yelled, jumping up from the sofa and standing on a poorly executed attack stance. "Although… Dad usually lasts longer than a week."

Somehow, despite being able to feel her emotions and knowing what she was doing, Anakin felt like he had lost.

Before he said anything else, she found the button, causing the blue blade to nearly instantly ignite, a wave of displaced air flicking her hair away from her face as the light illuminated her features, the characteristic hum of the weapon filling the room.

"It is only a training saber. You will still be capable of cutting through inanimate materials, slowly, but the containment field can detect organics and will refuse to completely open, only causing minor burns."

In truth, the containment field could be easily adjusted, allowing the weapon to function as a normal lightsaber at any moment, but he would not be telling her that anytime soon.

Deactivating the weapon, Dinah threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing, the lightsaber's handle hitting his back.

For a full second, nearly a lifetime with his reflexes, Anakin did not react but, eventually, he forced himself to hug her back, the action feeling almost foreign to him.

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