Eternal Father
Dusk began to settle on the jeweled world of Coruscant, a bright golden glow encapsulating the glittering skyscrapers and wide boulevards dotting the upper city's skyline. Life transitioned as normal, great columns of skycars weaving through the open-air while great crowds continued to move up and down the long avenues of the Alliance's capital. Amidst the hustle and bustle of Coruscanti life was the Coruscant Medical Facility, one of the thousands that dotted the upper levels of the ecumenopolis.
On the surface, the medical facility appeared like any other; staff and patients moving in and out of the wide inviting archway which framed the facility's entrance, specially marked skycars brought critically injured patients directly into the surgery wing while others rushed out to attend to a new crisis elsewhere in the endless cityscape.
And while the doctors and nurses did their best to accommodate and protect the lives of those under their care, there would always be those who did not survive.
Or so the official reports said.
But there was something strange going on.
Patients who had been perfectly healthy one moment fell deathly ill the next, their bodies removed before their condition could be fully examined. Their death was declared a certainty, another sad fate to befall one of the trillions who called Coruscant home. What was even stranger was that these deceased individuals never made it to the morgue, their bodies could never be witnessed having entered or exited the sub-basement facilities, yet the mortician would always tally them accounted for despite the lack of evidence.
And whenever one of the staff would bring this discrepancy up to the Chief Administration Officer, they were never seen again.
Transferred out, the official report said; dismissed from the hospital entirely. Though such things might have raised an eyebrow if anyone peered too deeply into the inner workings of the hospital, such things were always swept under the rug; authorities were seemingly always willing to look the other way. Anyone who raised objections would find themselves in a similar situation; disappeared without a trace.
None could even begin to grasp the true scope of what was going on at this medical facility.
"STOP HIM, STEP ASIDE NOW!"
A woman was shoved aside, careening into another pack of people as the chase unfolded. Three security guards, their fatigues emblazoned with the symbol of Coruscant Medical, raced down one of Coruscant's footpaths after a lone individual. The individual in question was dressed only in drab gray clothing; a shirt and trousers stitched with the same symbol as the guards.
He wore no shoes, his bare feet smacking loudly on the weathered permacrete as he madly dashed forward through the crowded path. His face was contorted in panic, his eyes wide and frantically looking around as he heedlessly charged ahead.
Some attempted to stop him, only to be shoved aside or the madman to wriggle free of their grasp. Yet it was clear that he was tiring out, the guards were incrementally gaining on him after every obstacle. He spun around into a narrow alley, racing down darkened corners to try and evade her pursuers.
Unfortunately, the Force was not on his side.
A dead end.
Wheeling around, the madman was confronted with the three guards. They each unsheathed electro-prods from their belts, the tips crackling with energy. The man's chest rose and fell with frantic breaths, his eyes darting back and forth for some hope of escape. When it appeared that there was none, the man lunged for whatever he could use to defend himself.
The guards descended on him, striking him repeatedly with their electro-prods. Some even resorting to kicking him with their rough leather boots as he stumbled and fell on his side.
His cries rang out through the alley, perhaps alerting someone who would come to his rescue.
