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dankmyfarrik · 4 months ago

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Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind | Chapter 8: Happy Is The Blameless

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Summary: An alternate universe where the only thing that happens differently is... well, the Emperor wins. And Luke wakes up with a mysterious scar on his temple.

Read it here:

AO3

Chapter Warnings: Surgical torture, (very brief) thoughts of past self-harm.

Welp, I finally went overboard. This chapter contains the longest spice scene I have dared to write (as of yet). Please 18+!!

Word count: ~5.5k

-----

Darkness all around empty, black soulless. Finally, his senses are returning to him. Not another misplaced dream. He looked down at his hands, no sand, only black. But then he could just about make out the shadow of his hand in the darkness. A dim light shone from off in the distance and against his will or maybe just his best judgment—he followed. The world tipped upside down. In an instant, it felt as though the blackness was chasing him.

Dragging him down.

Pulling him under.

Drowning.

Fear.

"Yes, use the fear," Father had said. "Channel your anger. Let it flow through you." But it all felt wrong now.

It's all so terribly wrong.

"Help!"

He screamed towards the light. Voice cracking, turning into a life or death panic. "Help, help me please! Don't let me stay here!" His voice was shaking and cracking as he ran towards the light as fast as his feet would carry him. He tripped and scrambled back. Desperate.

"Take me away from here!"

"Luke!?" It was that woman. Leia.

"Luke, take my hand." She was there just in front of him. Kind eyes. A face he had always known as if it were his own. He reached out, straining, but something twisted around his ankle, dragging him back.

"Leia!" The pads of their fingers scrapped against each other but not enough to gain purchase. He was pulled further away.

"Help me! Save me! It's all wrong, don't forget me please!"

No no no.

He jolted up, eyes bloodshot, hair stuck to sweat on his forehead, chest hammering.

"Leia!!" He screamed into the blinding light.

"Don't let me forget again!! Not again! Please!!"

Bright light shone directly into his eyes and behind it eclipsed a black soulless droid. A droid holding a spinning surgical blade inches from his forehead. He reached out in a panic to swat it away, but his hands were restrained. Feet restrainedaround his ankle to an operation table. Luke kicked and thrashed, hyperventilating.

"Leia! Leia! Help me!" He force-slammed the droid to bits against the wall with a buck of his head. Another entered the room, and he lifted his hand but was stopped by the restraint. Stupid move. That split-second delay was all that was needed for someone. A human. To press a mask to his face, gas flooded his nostrils and his eyes drooped before he could even resist.

It was forgotten.

Natus woke in his bed, head pounding, eyes felt like they were sunk into his skull. A smeared drop of blood on his temple. An empty space noticeable next to him on the bed. The Mandalorian won't be back with the bounty for at least another week. He felt the loneliness like a hole in his heart. Natus ran to the fresher to vomit up nothing.

------

The Crest landed softly on a bed of wildflowers. The Naboo sunrise lightened the sky with streaks of pinks and oranges, and clouds lit from the bottom with a warm, fiery glow. The colors lightly reflected off of Din's armor, and even with the visor, he knew it was quite a vision. He missed the feeling—when the sun first kisses the skin—seeping deep into his pores. The leather strapped tight to his body was all the more suffocating.

The fob beeped in his hand, and Din began the trek to the top of the sloped hill. The petals around him turned to open to the morning, dew catching on their leaves, popping with color with every inch the sun rose.

Despite the beautiful scene encompassing him, unease remained present within him, as he knew, or maybe it was that he didn't know what awaited him when he got to the top.

Din saw her white robes first. But it was undeniable in a moment she was indeed the woman from the broken, dusty holo.

At last.

Hope.

Like Luke, time had not been kind to her, but despite it all she stood tall, strong, courageous, wind adrift in the few strands of hair allowed to be free from her intricate braids.

"Hunter, why do you hesitate?"

Din had vowed to not repeat the mistake he had made with Solo. But now that he finally had her, he didn't know what he could say. She filled the silence for him.

"This is where my mother grew up and fell in love. I know so little about my mother. An old friend told me to look here. I thought I should visit at least once, young love, the beginnings of a family. I can feel it. Can't you?"

He could.

"Given that my brother is the reason why you are here, this dream in the flowers didn't end so well."

Brother.

Din jolted a pause, waiting for his thoughts to catch up to his racing blood. It made perfect sense; he could see it within them both now. They were part of each other.

She just stared intently at him. The only other person who could see straight past the visor and into his eyes. How was that even possible?

"You care about him," she whispered, the sound disappearing into the wind like a secret for them both.

Din shifted nervously, the flowers brushing against his leg.

He decided there was no better time than now to jump off the metaphorical ledge, the one he had been inching closer and closer to, subtly with questions to Natus, but now it was time for action. He had no true loyalty to the Empire.

"Leia, I need your help."

The flowers lightly fluttered around them. The horizon was much brighter now. A warm light.

"And it seems I am in need of yours as well. What remains of my family I will fight fiercely for. Luke was the last person in the galaxy I ever thought would turn…" She bit off her words and glanced down. Silence broken only by the light breeze filled them both. When she started again, her tone changed.

"You recently captured Han Solo."

Din held his breath, this could be his only shot. They needed to trust each other, and how could she ever trust him now? He was a villain to her.

"Is Han still alive?" But the words were not aquisitory; she was just stating a fact, that she knew. She didn't hold malice against him. Even though she should.

"I don't know," he swallowed hard, regret filling him up and flooding him, suffocating him. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded quickly, "Thank you."

"Don't—"

"No," she said, "I mean it," Leia worked to compose herself. She morphed subtly, straightening her posture, holding her head higher.

"Now, enough chit-chat. You won't need those," she gestured to the binders dangling at his hip, "Comon', hurry up." And she strode straight past the fumbling Din to the Crest. "We have a galaxy to save."

–

Deep, somewhere in the heart of the galaxy, the Crest's ramp lowered, the ship—his home—consumed within the belly of the Descant. Two figures, instantly recognizable, stood on the other side, like demons, greeting their guests to hell.

The first, Natus, as expected. Dressed as stiffly and blindingly white as the lights reflecting off of the troopers' armor.

The second rivaled the vacuum of space itself.

It took everything within Din to keep his pose, to not outwardly twitch a muscle. But Leia, in all of her courage, marched straight past him once more without a glance behind her, leading the way to whatever nightmare was before her.

Her boots clicked against the ramp, changing in sound when she made it onto the polished, barren floor. She marched straight through the middle of Natus and the tall, evil figure next to him.

"Out of my way," she hissed at the first imp who dared to stand in her path. The trooper before her looked as though he genuinely considered following the order of their new prisoner.

"Not so fast, Princess." The sound, as deep as the thrumming and groaning of tectonic plates, shook the very ship in its orbit to the bottom of the universe.

"Lord Vader," she sounded exasperated, "as much as this routine, as with our conversations, amuse me, I would rather just get to the heart of the matter now. And you wouldn't risk doing that in such a public location."

"We are happy to accommodate," Vader said, tilting his visor to Natus. His sparkling golden eyes transfixed to Leia,without taking his gaze from her face, he clipped binders around her wrists.

Din stood helplessly at the edge of the Crest's ramp, watching as the troopers parted like a sea. Leia, flanked by Natus and Vader, marched onward, her head held high with unwavering will. The three moved through the sterile, jagged halls, disappearing from sight. A bravery akin to the old heroes his mother spoke of in bedtime stories long ago. Tales that had filled his dreams with fearlessness and a call to the stars. That spirit hadn't died in her. And he wondered if it hadn't died in him either.

—

"Boys," she huffed, "don't you think this is overkill?" Leia knew they could have sent any trooper to sentence her to a cell, sure if it was just two she could have escaped, she could even handle around five before hesitating at a small battalion, but nevertheless they proved they had the resources. This special escort was more than a power play. But why?

Her last real conversation with her brother before all hell broke loose was just the two of them with bugs chirping and fireflies swirling around them on Endor, Luke told her Vader was their father.

Although a fact, it could never be true. Bail would always be her real father. But as she looked at the two robed figures, one in all black and the other white, she knew, however twisted, this special treatment whether conscious or not, was a familial one and possibly the first time they were all in the same place in this way.

She thought back to the whispering flower field on Naboo, how could this, more machine than man—a creature next to her, be the one who fell in love with her mother all those years ago.

But for now, she had to focus on the matter at hand. Leia eyed daggers into Vader as they stopped outside of a cell. The entry slid open to a small and simple room, just like all the others she had been temporarily held captive in over the years.

She stepped in without looking back, and the door closed behind her with a snap and hiss.

Natus looked up to his father as they shared a moment of quiet behind the other side of the cell door.

"My son, you know what to do. Search your feelings."

And Vader kept walking down the hall, leaving Natus alone with this beautiful, familiar and mysterious woman on the other side of the door.

"Search your feelings," he whispered to himself. It sounded so simple but there was a war behind his eyes, so much shrieking and crashing, burning and confusion. Hallways that twisted around each other, leading to nowhere, and nowhere had answers.

"Search your feelings. I know what to do." He said louder this time, but there was no confidence in his cadence.

Everything was so loud. He balled his fists, gloves creaking. He could do exactly what happened with Solo, after Father had helped him, he wouldn't make more mistakes, he would feel enlightened by doing what is right for the Empire. He could do that again with her.

"I know what to do." He rocked on his heels, back and forth ever so slightly, gaining momentum, pushing forward to a step. Natus pressed a button on the panel, and the cell door slid open.

She turned to face him, their eyes met. Her brown eyes were so full of care seeing into his soul and he felt all the gold drain from his own eyes. All the malice and revenge left him like a kick to the gut. He could double over and gasp raggedly for air but he just stood motionless, unable to move a muscle.

"Is Vader gone?" She also seemed stunned and breathless.

"Why would I ever tell you that?" His lips barely moved to form the words. His voice foreign and distant. Embarrassingly quiet.

Yes.

"Luke."

Natus shook his head vigorously, bangs whipping back and forth. He was physically unable to bring words past his throat. He stepped back, the will to escape this shrinking box clawing at him, but the will to stay, be with this woman just a second longer, rung through every fiber of his being.

"You called out to me," she said in a rush to get all the words out before he disappeared, either from the room or from his mind. "Don't you remember? It was through the force. A dream. You asked for my help?"

A pause, he yanked his eyes away from the door back to her.

"I'm here Luke. Just like you said. I'm here."

"You—" his voice was so dry and it cracked heavily, barely making a sound. She stepped closer, they were nearly touching. In the calm, he searched his feelings. "You have kind eyes."

She put a hand on his lifelessly pale cheek. The world stopped spinning. Her hand was so soft. A tear fell against his will. He pressed a white-gloved hand to his face, and it came back damp from the single tear. Silently, he looked back to her.

Shocked from the display of emotion, his blue eyes wide, he ran from the room.

As soon as Natus was a fair distance away from her, his emotions screamed around him, turning to chaos, slamming into his ears. Even if he ran back to his room with the door closed behind him, the fresher shower on, beating into his back, scalding hot or frozen cold, meditating for hours and hours, bringing himself to the brink of death, Natus knew nothing would be able to drown out the noise this time.

I'm here. Search your feelings. Through passion I gain strength. Just like you said. Through strength I gain power. You know what to do. Through power I gain victory. A dream. Through victory my chains are broken.

Just like you said.

I'm here.

Though the medical droids have pieced him back together again and again, there is only one other being who he feels comfortable being vulnerable to. Only one place he could go, even if it was against his better judgment. Troopers marched, and ships took off around him, sweeping his cape as he made his way through the hanger, focusing on a signature that had not yet left his consciousness. The screaming noise of the ships were dull in comparison to the chaos in his mind.

"Mandalorian." Natus spoke formally, knowing his voice carried.

Sure enough, his helmeted head appeared from where he was working on a panel of the ship—an unnecessary fix to fly—his hunter was stalling. And Natus couldn't be more relieved. He could focus on this. The voices in his head quieted to a background hum.

The Mandalorian jumped to the floor from atop the ship with a grace that revealed decades of practice.

"I have an urgent matter in which I need to inspect your ship." Natus coughed slightly; on top of all of the other emotions, he felt like a fool.

"If it's urgent." The hunter towered over him, helm tilted down, grazing over Natus before turning. "Then follow me."

Natus realized despite being in the ship's proximity countless times, he had never actually stepped inside, and for a moment, he worried he had crossed a boundary. But the moment couldn't linger because the second they were bothshielded from outside eyes and security cams, the Mandalorian crossed several feet in a flash to be closer to him, scanning him for injury.

"Are you alright? What happened."

Natus released a shaky breath, relaxing to the proximity. He was here. He was safe.

"I'm fine."

The helmet titled and stared.

"It was that woman, she just had one look at me and told me things I don't believe, and I fell apart. I'm a weak fool. Who lets their prisoners interrogate them! Father would be so disappointed."

"Why?" Din gently pushed. Not sure of what he was hoping to uncover.

"He told me to search my feelings. But I don't have feelings, only voices crying out in my head. I can never extrapolate anything that makes sense. It's clouded."

In a single movement, Din scooped the Sith into his arms, resting his head atop the other man, applying a pressure and comfort that he knew was so rare.

"Now that can't be all true," his deep voice rumbled; every one of Natus' senses filled with the man before him. Smoke and woodchips. A surprising softness despite the armor. He focused on this, letting the waves wash over him, taking him far away from the Descant, far away from this damned galaxy. He wanted to be closer to this strange source of dependability, companionship, and comfort. To feel him more. And he knew the other man wanted that as well. What an odd pair they are, indeed. "You can feel this and the floor beneath our feet," Natus released a shaky exhale in his arms, "you can feel me."

Din leaned backward, resting against a wall, bringing Natus with him, letting the weight of the man fall even more on him. Natus nestled into him, slotting their arms and legs together and burying his face in Din's neck just so that he could feel the warmth of his breath through the cowl. Din's hand followed random paths and circles along the blond's back, feeling him relax even more. Natus responded in turn, moving his hands all across Dins' body, his back, his shoulders, arms. Through all of this, Din's pelvis was in a wonderfully close position to the other man's in between his legs where they half stood half lay, learning each other once again but with so many layers of clothing and armor in the way.

Din didn't dare move or initiate despite the uncontrolled feeling his pants were beginning to feel too tight. Natus was in a very vulnerable state, and Din wanted to help him, which meant letting the blond lead in whatever action he was comfortable with.

Sure enough, as if Natus read his mind, he guided Din's hand to the swell of his ass. Din gripped the skin and clothes with a wide grasp and earned a whimper in his ear. Understanding the message, Din lifted the man up, lightly dragging him along the bulge in his pants, feeling the other man was just as hard as he was. Din started a slow rhythm. The friction dueto the clothes catching between them in all of the right places.

"Mh, this okay?" Din asked, dazed already by just a few lifts.

"s'Yes please."

Din could already tell this was going to be ragged and desperate...and leave a mess. Despite knowing it would also be mind-blowing and cataclysmic, that's not what he wanted with this man right now.

With a particularly drawn out thrust he asked, "Do you want me to take you to my room?"

The other man, now clinging to him for purchase, nose having wriggled it's was through Din's cowl, hot breath on Din's neck, their only skin touching, "Please."

"So polite."

In a flash Din turned them around, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist, and walked them only a few feet to the side, where he strung open the cloth revealing the small dim bunk with hardly enough room for them both to fit.

"Oh," the blond let out a small light chuckle, a warm smile crossing his features—possibly the rarest sight in the galaxy. He leaned his head back on Din's breastplate, admiring the view before him. "My room is slightly bigger. But I like yours more."

The room was small, yes, but it was warm, and quiet. It didn't show the vastness of space or have magically always pressed flat sheets that were blinding white and vast empty spaces that faintly smelled like disinfectant. No, it was rough and it was home.

"I'm glad," Din rasped, leading the other man in and closing the curtain behind them. The room became dark, but Din could just about make out the features on the man's face before him. Soft relaxed smile, pupils blown.

He felt hands on his belt and heard a click, his holster and all fell to the floor. Followed by Din's pauldrons, and chestplate. Din started working on unclipping the Sith's cape, unpinning the black flap over his heart, revealing the plain white jumper. Until, of course, he took that off too. After a sufficient amount of clothing and armor had been removed, Din laid the blond on his bed, then crawled his way on top of the other man.

Their hands drawing over each other, the blond sucking marks into Din's skin as Din rolled his cock into the man's upper thigh, hand below messaging an opening, earning small hums and gasps from the lips occasionally pausing their endeavors.

When it was time, Din sat up, bringing the blond with him, and turned him around so that the Sith's back was to his chest, Din's cock twitched next to his ass earning a small grind backwards. An arm went below the bed, patting around a few times before grasping the small bottle and bringing it up to them, Din flipped the lid open. Then, he reached in front of him to grab Natus' neglected member, and began stroking him, spreading the wetness so that his hand ran smoothly along him. Din's forearm and bicep, as his arm worked, locked the man in place as he wriggled on his lap. Din aligned his member to the other man's opening and ever so slightly putting his tip into him.

With his free hand, Din reached upwards, heart pounding with nerves, but once again, he thought to Leia and her courage and unclipped the latch on his visor, releasing a hiss.

Natus gasped, his stomach filling with butterflies and fear—" But!" Din tightened his grip on his cock while his hand worked. The helm dropped on the bed with a dull thud.

"Keep looking forwards Mesh'la. I trust you." And he slid the rest of the way into the tight warmth and wetness.

They both released a gasp. And oh, how Din should have done this ages ago. This was… hardly bending the rules of the creed. A mere oversight really. He breathed in fully the other man's scent, dragging his tongue hot across the man's neck as he set a slow, brutal pace.

I trust you.

Everything swirled, senses maxed out. All six inches of him buried deep, his hand working his cock, but stars, his voice—his real voice—without the visor. So pure and soft and he stored it in a secret place in his mind and heart that could never be forgotten. And oh, he has scruff. Natus didn't try to think about what his lover looked like below the helm—an invasion of privacy—he knew he would never be given the opportunity. Besides, after their first encounter, his curiosity surrendered to a fierce respect. But the light scratching along his shoulder and then neck indicating a bit of facial hair suited the man he knew well. Above all, what dizzied him the most—trust. This was the Mandalorians' most sacred religious tradition, yet his helm lay hollow on the bed. For him. He trusted him. Those lips glided along him, leaving marks he would cherish for rotations to come. Soft gasps and moans that were otherwise lost to the vocabulator. Natus kept it all, storing it in a secret place in his mind that could never be touched. The galaxy long forgotten in the best of ways---

"Luke."

An unfiltered voice—a low pleased grown. It was barely above a whisper. A secret. A confession of a sin. Natus' whole body tensed. Was that word a mistake? He couldn't be thinking of another lover...was it intentional? Why did it make him feel such a way? Why did it feel like a child learning to use a naughty word for the first time without knowing what it meant, just that it was wrong.

But Din purposefully ignored the other mans reeling mind and pressed open-mouthed kisses and licks to his neck, grasping his cock slightly harder.

"Say—," Natus' jaw painfully clamped shut, a desperate attempt to stop himself. Hellfire and holy water—the temptation too great.

"Say it again," He got out through gritted teeth.

He felt the small bite on his neck morph into a smile.

"Luke." A faint voice, hot breath, the subtle scratch followed by teeth, then a kiss. A particularly deep thrust.

A darkest secret. Fit for a shadowed, tucked away room such as this. No one could ever know... particularly Father and Master. And, as far as Natus was concerned, if no one ever found out, maybe, just maybe, they could both lose their religions—at least for as long as they could hold each other.

His heart kicking against his chest, all wrong in all the right ways.

"Again."

A hard thrust, nearing pain.

"Luke."

Natus cried out, barely forming the words, choppy and broken from the rhythm. "A-gain."

Instead of immediately obliging, the Mandalorian scooped the sith up once more, releasing his grip around his member, leaving him with an obscene noise—a feeling of emptiness and cold—and pinning him flat on his stomach. The blond lay sprawled. Tight lean muscles, small waist, taking up what little space there was on the mattress, slick and waiting for him.

"Please." Natus whimpered softly, blowing hair that was sticking to his forehead. How could Din refuse?

The Mandalorian crawled on top of him, grabbed a fistful of the blond's hair not to pull hard but to guide away from accidentally getting a glimpse of his face, and nuzzled back to that space on Natus' marked neck.

It was during that moment when six inches were sliding back into him without a single hitch or helpful guide when Natus, dazed and with rolled back eyes, registered the discarded helm laying immediately next to him on the mattress. It took everything in him not to cum then and there.

"Luke." The voice rasped, grabbing his hair even more firmly. With the new angle, despite Natus not being able to do more than wiggle and prop his ass higher for easier access, his hunter certainly had considerably more leverage. And he knew how to use it.

He pounded again and again, "Luke–Luke–Luke…"

Natus clung to the sheets below him, eyes squeezed shut.

"Ah! A-gain!"

His hunter slid all the way out only to slam back in, jolting him forward on the mattress.

"L-uke!"

Natus came with a cry, and the Mandalorian wasn't far behind, pumping out his release before collapsing all his weight onto the man below him. In contrast to his last touches, he gently found Natus' ear, nibbling the lobe and whispering one last time before the word could be demonized again.

"My Mesh'la Luke."

They lay together for what could be an eternity, neither of them speaking, because speaking required asking questions and finding answers, and it was better if they pretended Din didn't just do the most forbidden thing in the galaxy. For as long as they stayed in the safety of the dim light, Din could keep his helmet off and could keep licking, and kissing, biting, and using his mouth to feel and live and pleasure for the first time in his life.

He treasured every texture and wanted more and more. He nipped and kissed and licked downwards, following a trail, heheard the blond moan above him. He had never done this before but stars, has he always wanted to try. To return the favor. To enjoy and pleasure his partner in a new way. He slid to the edge of the bed, pinning the blond from looking up with a strong, muscular arm.

He continued downwards, licking the last of the release, enjoying the taste and the smell of these new sensations. Din was pleasantly surprised how easy it was to coax the man back to full hardness. He slipped his swollen lips over the head of the cock, slowly bobbing, swirling, and tugging with his free hand.

The Sith, out of instinct, reached out, placing a gentle hand in Din's hair. Like a burn, the Sith recoiled, feeling Din's curls, regretting learning more about what lay behind the helm. But Din reached up, finding the man's hand, placing it back in his hair, letting him guide, enjoying the tug and pull of his hair like a drop of water in a desert.

When the man came in his mouth, he licked up everything and made his way back up, to continue to worship the other man's body with his mouth. His chest, arms, neck, face, near his lips, but a spike of nerves hit him, and he opted to kiss his nose, going higher…

Until finally, Din dragged his tongue along the small slice of a scar over Natus' temple.

The sheets moved as Natus abruptly sat up, careful not to see the other man's head.

"I have to leave. There is something I need to take care of."

And as quickly as they were able to reassemble themselves, he was past the curtain, running down the ramp into the shiphold and gone.

—-

By the time Natus reached Pershing's office, he was already fuming, the force vibrating through every tendon and nerve, setting his skin alight.

The door flung open and he burst inside.

"Alright Pershing," he said as a entered, "I'm suddenly very curious about your research. Please, tell me more."

Testing vials and data pads lined the walls and the room rank of disinfectant. The man at the center of it all jumped, turning straight as a board mid-air, then scrambled to adjust his glasses, pushing them upwards on the bridge of his nose.

"Lord Natus! It's an honor. Really, it is! But—I um, but I." Natus gave him a look that inspired motivation. "As you know, we have been collecting force users for sampling and trials. I specifically oversee the physical manipulation, as you know with the binders test." A long pause, some piece of equipment let out a harmless beep, "I don't want to bore you with the nuances…"

"Are there any other forms of…persuasion? Like mental instead of physical?"

"Well, Moff Gideon is rather adamant that I don't share about…"

Natus stressed every syllable, fire sparking in his eyes. "I implore you to reconsider."

"Sir, you don't have the clearance to—"

"TELL ME!" The lights in the room flickered and beakers shook with their liquids on the shelf.

"We. We. Well. There is a procedure," Natus' eyes widened in disbelief as Pershing ran a finger along his temple in the exact spot as his scar. When he said "procedure," the other man's eyes wildly searched his own, praying he understood.

His goggled eyes darted around with the caution of a man whose every word was monitored. "It has shown to be successful. With results better than I had anticipated, so there is no concern there… for force users no matter where they fall on the Metaclorian Scale or spectrum from light to dark."

Their eyes met again, "Incorporating the latest neuro-synergistic feedback inhibition," he went on fluent and sophisticated, his words bleeding into the soft hum of the machinery. But everything that needed to be said had already been spoken, now the scientist drowned on, trying to dilute his treason in jargon.

Thank you Pershing, you are a good man.

—

ADVANCED SCIENCE DIVISION

REPORT #912577-B3

}}

<CHIEF SCIENTIST = {REDACTED}

ISSUE: "UPDATE"

SPECIMEN ID: 000002

NAME: "NATUS">

ULTERIOR: "LK SKYWLKR">

}}

<LOCATION: IMPERIAL RESEARCH CENTER 23-B>