The twins were each lying in two intensive care units, with monitor wires running from their sterile containment beds. She stood in the room with her arms folded tightly and her eyes swollen with worry. Heart rate beeps were the only sound in the medical room. Staring at her children there was no hint, no clue to understand what was going on, except that their health was as risk.
Behind the protective glass to allow for non-intrusive observation, only close relatives were allowed and the Imperial troopers made sure no unessential personnel had access to that hallway.
Tayleen came out of the intensive care room and let out a painful sigh. He didn't know what to say, and he didn't know if being there was appropriate.
But she had asked for him.
"Essan was here earlier and he's gone investigating," she rasped, wiping an eyelid with a finger, clutching a crumpled up tissue in her hand. "They had a fever last night, and they wouldn't eat anything this morning. Zherrys kept throwing up..."
Thexan's neck was tensing. "What did the doctor say?"
"They detected a slight heart condition in both of them, something they didn't see in prenatal exams. It can be just a consequence of the fever but nothing's certain." She sighed and touched her palm to her head before folding her arms. "It could be a result of the intermixing of our species."
"Tayleen, I'm..."
What was he going to say? That the pregnancy had been interrupted because of him? That he was sorry?
She kept her eyes on the children. Her concerns was light years away from his peace of mind.
"What can I do?"
She shook her head, reaching to her black jacket on one of the seats facing the glass.
"I can't stand around waiting to see what happens," she bitterly answered, "and I can't just leave them."
His grasp of medicine was rudimentary at best, let alone pediatrics and heart conditions and birth defects... What if the cardiac development should have been closely monitored in the last stages of the pregnancy, then what was the extent of the damage her stay on the flagship could have caused? Was there even a cure, or did they have to go under surgery? What was the rate of success to operate on twins of inter-species breeding?
Head spinning, he needed to sit but Tayleen had brought her attention back to her children and he felt oddly out of place, more so than per usual. He hadn't eaten that day because of the stress that was building up ever since the training room. He could sense the danger approaching. He felt the oppressive hand of fate clutching his throat and squeezing each breath ever so tightly.
They were getting close.
"I don't want to leave you," he began, "but I think I know what Essan is investigating."
"You can go to him if you need to," she said without moving her head. "What he does, why he does it... It's beyond my understanding."
"Your children are sensitive to the Force and its imbalance," he tried to explain, uncertain of how she perceived his tone and he wanted to sound compassionate and not patronizing. "I fear it won't get any better."
Her face changed from upset to aggravated and she finally looked at him. "We should have seen this coming."
Nodding, Thexan kept himself from stepping back at her furious gaze and took a deep breath.
"But this is the first time newborns are on board a Sith flagship. They could have been born on Zakuul, where much worse would have happened then."
He saw her jaw line moving slightly but her dark lips were still sealed. At least her piercing eyes were softening slightly. Things could always be worse. Soundless images of his funeral came back to his mind's eye like the remnants of a bad dream.
Except that he hadn't been dreaming.
Tayleen eventually took place on the seats and he closed in, stopping at the last moment. She turned her head up to him and looked at the neighbor chair beside her. "It's not going to bite you."
The way she raised her blue eyes made him hesitate, painted eyelids blinking slowly with lack of sleep implicitly questioning his behavior. Thexan took the seat next to her and forced his mind to focus on the twins... On the darkness that seemed to be consuming all feelings and hearts.
That ominous presence-
"Thexan," she softly spoke, interrupting his trail of thought, "I know it's not a good time but you should know I still am your friend. You can tell me anything."
Guilt ate at him and indeed, it wasn't a good time to start making this day about him.
"Aside from the fact that I was responsible for your torment last month, and that all of this could have been avoided had it not been for me and my family... I don't know what there is to say."
He heard her breathing deeply and she crossed a leg over the other.
"I forgive you. There's no need to dwell on that."
"You're right," he said, then chewed on the inside of his cheek for a short moment. "I could use a cup of caf, would you like one?"
Batting her eyelashes at him, she stretched her arms and meshed her hands over her knee. "Sounds good. I haven't slept and it's going to be a long day."
Relieved to be of some use, Thexan picked up his mask and gloves before leaving the intensive care wing.
It was strange, to slip into a different persona every time he moved around the flagship, accentuating the fact that it wasn't his flagship and easing himself into that new identity. Crew members and coalition troops stopped and saluted as they saw him, more out of caution than true respect, only to start whispering when he was many yards away.
He stopped by the medbay's small cantina to pick up the caf from a dispensing machine. It smelled fresh but Thexan had had better. The following device offered warm pastries and he decided to risk it. Holding a tray in one hand, he put a few credit chips in the slot to obtain the breakfast food and stopped at a condiments table for what passed for cream and sweeteners. This quality was below par for him, having had entire buffets of delicacies when he lived on Zakuul.
None of that mattered anymore and just being able to smell anything felt like a gift. He had deactivated the filters in his Sith mask's control settings. He was able to see and hear much more than he'd apprehended, only feeling restricted by the inability to touch his own face when he felt an itch. When he returned to Tayleen he saw her dubious look at him when he approached, fully covered in armor and she held his gaze through the mask, sending out her sympathetic feeling of familiarity yet her smile was bittersweet. She nodded and thanked him for the caf, grabbing the plastic mug and nestling it in her lap. Thexan took another seat and placed the tray of food between them. When the mask came off she lingered her eyes on him.
"Something wrong?" he asked, pulling off his gloves to begin eating.
"I'm curious to know," she began, "how do you and Essan get along?"
Unsure, he pondered which specific moment he could channel when thinking about his interactions with the Wrath. Smelling his caf, he opened the lid to add sweetener.
"He is very paternal with me," he answered, ending with a smirk. "And on several occasions he insisted that I should be at your side when he's absent. I hope that he's spoken to you about it... I still feel uneasy about the idea."
He set down his cup and placed a hand over his other. The tremors were coming back. He tried to bite his lips without looking like he was afraid to say something else. He wasn't muting himself. He had nothing else to say and either way, she could tell when someone was hiding something from her. She was a spy, for Scyva's sake.
He hadn't realized he had avoided looking at her when she spoke back. "He's been distant with me since last week."
The words cut threw him with their coldness and how dryly she just stated the fact. It could be the stress, the imminent war and the darkness that engulfed everything, everyone... His attention went back to the twins sleeping on the other side of the glass pane. When was his caf ever going to cool down? But then again, was caf really that wise a drink to take when he was this tense?
"I'm sorry," he apologized for many things but certain of nothing. "I hope I didn't cause that."
"I caused that," Tayleen rectified, her voice going even softer and pitching higher. "I was always distant with him since the beginning because, deep down, I knew this day would come. Even if I do have feelings for him they could only be for a time."
He turned to see her face and expected her eyes to be shiny with tears and they were narrow and sad. No tears. No sorrow. She seemed to focus on his joined hands. Taking a sip of the caf she appeared to stall her confession.
But he had sensed the gut-wrenching pain and heartbreak with each time Essan would mention her. The Wrath meant to protect Tayleen when in reality he was the one feeling hurt and forsaken. The mask did nothing to hide his vulnerabilities, it was no match to the type of mask, while invisible and very much nonexistent, that Tayleen wore.
"I-" he paused and heavily leaned backwards, "I do not wish to interfere with your affairs. I have great respect for the both of you, even though I fail to understand how you have accepted me as your own."
"There may be nowhere else for you to go," she said, point-blank. "Essan and I agreed we could trust you. There's no malice in you... and I told him that you supported me from the day we met."
His heart jumped and he tried not to stare too intently, averting his gaze to look at the wall behind her, or her shoulders, or her hands around the paper cup. She was her anchor outside of Zakuul, away from the Fleet, and far from his brother. She had woken something in him that forever uprooted him from the world he knew.
But it had cost them so much.
"Have you told him about... when Arcann-"
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It would drive him mad. I've never seen him fight, not in person, and from what I'm told his control is what allows him to survive. He needs to stay frosty."
"Hence..." the distance, the constant avoidance. The mask she claimed she liked better than to have him remove it in her presence. He doubted even his own children had seen his real face. "I'm beginning to understand your dynamic."
She nodded. "You're allowed to say it."
He veered his attention away and looked at the tip of his boots. She was using Essan. When he breathed in he realize he had been keeping so still he'd forgot to even fill his lungs.
His father had used his mother, and in the end she had abandoned them all.
Sadness seeped into his mind and also betrayal. As he turned to talk to her, Tayleen had begun closing her mind and receded into isolation. She drank her caf and nipped at pieces of pastry. He remembered her hands as slim and slender but now they looked bony and blue veins protruded through the orange skin. For her to have denied herself in order to favor her children, he imagined there would have been many other areas that were neglected.
"You want him to stay alive for his children," he finally said, "even at the expense of your relationship." His eyes and ears began to hurt. "You can't neglect each other. I can sense the affection you two have for one another and I understand, against my better judgment, why you would want to sacrifice that."
He encouragingly grabbed his sweet pastry cake and took a bite, munching until he would feel hungry enough to finish the food. He rinsed down the flaky crust and juicy filling with now lukewarm caf before biting another section of the pastry. It wasn't so bad considering how it was made.
Now with both hands busy he no longer felt himself tremble and he could use his connection to the Force to extend his awareness to the whole ship. There was a dense pit of concern towards the command deck. Darth Marr had been deeply disturbed by the resurgence of Vitiate's presence and was now exploring the vicinity for him.
Thexan, while he hadn't taken part in the endeavor, had a bad feeling about this.
Tayleen put her food away and stood to tiredly look at her twins, arms tightly folded against her breasts. He was too preoccupied with what he was sensing to ask her what went on in her mind, feeling an imminent urgency, a danger so vast it was out of grasp and yet already here...
He startled at the chirp of a comlink. Tayleen's comlink. She answered it with a dull voice.
"I'm listening."
"Get the children to safety," pressingly said Essan. "Get on the Phantom and prepare to evacuate now."
"What's going on?" she rushed into the room and panic was on her face. Thexan followed and she began opening the incubator-like vats. "Talk to me, Essan!"
"They're here." There was a chilling pause. "The Eternal Fleet. They found us."
Thexan picked up Ceyran while Tayleen was wrapping Zherrys in her blanket. "We're close to Zakuul," he attempted to explain, going out the door and grabbing his mask and gloves as he pressed Ceyran securely against his chest. The poor toddler protested and whined, his pale face gone almost white.
Tayleen ran behind him and they were followed by the Imperial troopers when reaching the elevators.
"Proximity alert with enemy crafts," said one of them. "We've been ordered to escort you to your ship, Ma'am."
"Thank you," she hurriedly said and they pressed the express mode on the keypad to get to the hangar bays.
She and Thexan exchanged a worried look. Her eyes went to the mask and gloves he hadn't taken the time to put on. She motioned to carry Ceyran and gave him free hands to get fully armored again.
"Go to him," she said as the elevator doors opened and the troopers urged her out. "I'll be waiting."
He couldn't protest her decision that she was already running with both twins in her arms, the troopers making way for her to move securely across the hustling and emergency procedures of personnel jogging in every direction.
The Fleet was here. Thexan slowed his breath and straightened his back. Lightsaber in hand, he marched towards the elevators that would take him towards command.
Sirens blared to signal hull damage and lights flashed red. They were breached. Security systems all came on high alert and troopers scrambled to the breached zones.
Tayleen. She was still on this floor and the hangars were vulnerable.
He rushed back through the level and the air had taken a distinctive smell of ozone and burned metal. Screaming could be heard ahead. Using his activity radar, he could locate the boarding pod and it was a hundred meters away from him.
Skytroopers were shooting and troopers took cover to fight back. It played out in his mind like a simulation, one of the many virtual replays of destroyer ship invasive tactics he had watched during his many years of training. They stood out with their white-silver armored casing and no blaster bolt seemed to dent their shields. They had selective targeting, prioritizing key markers such as stature, political importance and popularity.
But he no longer was their superior nor their ally. As soon as they spotted Thexan they began firing at him. With the Force to support him, his lightsaber deflected incoming fire and he progressed rapidly towards the droids. He projected his will to crush one droid against the boarding pod, slashed the head off the closest skytrooper and the third was still firing at him in vain, only to have its own blaster bolts reflected and hitting its targeting system. The droid stumbled backward and Thexan cut it in two. The charred pieces fell at his black armored boots. He spun his lightsaber and stood at the ready, took a deep breath and barely registered the burn across his abdomen.
"My Lord," said an unmasked trooper with the Republic emblem on his shoulder pad, "there are more droids towards the hangar bay."
He gave him a nod and wasted no time before heading straight to where the Phantom was docked. As the trooper had warned, skytroopers had invested the docking level and were shooting at everyone. His breathing was rapid when he scanned the floor for familiar bodies, all wore black, all were wearing helmets except a few officers and techs. The droid were caught unaware as he ran his blade through them, sent the lightsaber flying across the hall to eliminate two at a time. A fifth skytrooper shot towards him, thirty paces away and paused to reload. Thexan extended his hand, fingers crooked and the Force took hold of the droid, crushing its internal parts until it shuddered and broke into pieces without being physically touched.
Beyond it was the hangar bay. He passed the locked gate with the aid of his powers, unlocking the security fence, and strode up to the Phantom. The loading ramp was up and he could see movement through the canopy.
Bringing up his comlink interface, he set to contact Tayleen and she took a moment to reply. The person inside the cockpit waved at him. He couldn't make a specific face or silhouette.
"Are you safe?" he asked.
"Yes, we heard what was going on." Her voice sounded crystal clear inside his headset communicator.
"Listen," he said sorely, "I'm going to get Marr and Essan."
"Please be careful."
He headed back towards the hallway, lightsaber still ignited. "If things get out of hand you need to take off. Don't wait up."
"No. I outrank you here, Thexan."
A volley of blaster fire flew across his field of vision and he spun his lightsaber to shield himself while getting back to the elevator. "And I helped design these droids, Tayleen. I developed the Fleet's tactics and I know the Terminus won't hold much longer."
"How can you be making excuses right now?" he heard her protest through his internal audio. "I'm not leaving... I owe it to Marr."
He took a left turn and grabbed a skytrooper's left robotic arm, threw his weight into the pull and slashed his saber across its chest. An Imperial officer stumbled as he startled right around a pillar and Thexan caught his elbow, pulling him back to his feet.
"Tha-thank you, my Lord!"
"Get to the escape pods!" he shouted, hoping other crew members would hear him over blaster fire and explosions. "Avoid the main hallways, keep cover."
He fought dozens more skytroopers, some barely coming out of their pods, provoking fire and smoke. His protective armor allowed him to keep fighting and the Force elevated his senses to avoid incoming attacks. Fighting droids - his droids - was far easier and more predictable than dueling Sith and Jedi. It only took five minutes to reach the deck.
They were at the command center, lightsabers withdrawn and both turned with surprise as they saw him. The entire craft shook and was beginning to fall apart around them.
"We must evacuate," Thexan said, pointing behind him. "The ship won't hold much longer."
Essan strode towards him with purpose, filled with such anger that Thexan almost held up his weapon but he stayed his hand. He sensed more than he felt the steel grip on his neck, and he thanked the added layer of protection there, or else his throat would have cracked. Essan, the lord of the Sith who had become more of a friend to him, shoved him backwards. Thexan stood his ground, determined to bring them back alive.
The silver mask was the mirror of his own, but the voice was nothing but a roar.
"I told you to stay with her."
"She won't leave," Thexan replied, "unless I bring you back with me."
The warning siren blared again saying the Terminus was suffering critical hull damage.
"Listen to me," Thexan continued from the bottom of his heart. "You must save your people or you will lose everything."
The Wrath finally recovered his temper and took a step back. He turned his hooded mask towards Darth Marr. The Dark Councilor was staring at Thexan.
"You've felt it, haven't you?"
"Yes," Thexan sighed. "It's Vitiate."
"Then you must bring the children as far away from here as you can, as fast as you can." He exchanged a look with Essan. "I will order the evacuation and remain on board. Lord Skordus will go with you."
"I'm not running from this," protested the other Sith. "We can still make this count."
He went to the central computer and brought up the battle map. "Here's their flagship. We still have operating engines and navigation. This is our shot."
"No, it won't work," Thexan interjected, "simply because the fleet does not need a flagship to funct-"
"It has to make a difference, we're not dying in vain."
"Think of Tayleen!" Thexan shouted, hands balled into tight fists and his shoulders shook with emotion. "If you die, she is lost. Do you understand?" He caught his breath and stepped closer to the terminal to keep him from making a rash decision. "She put everything aside so you could survive and help us save the galaxy. We can't do it without you."
Darth Marr stepped between them. "Enough of this!" arms extended, he then clenched a fist and directed towards the entrance. "Thexan, evacuate the ship. Even with no hull we still have a running chance to salvage the situation. The command deck will be sealed for last resort measures."
Thexan wanted to toss his mask away and spew out his rage and his plead to make them come to their senses. But he stared at Lord Marr, this powerful Sith, second only to his own father the Emperor Valkorion. The Force radiated through him with determination and the strength of a cosmic event. Unlike his father, Marr brought out his own qualities in those around him, drawing forces from all borders of the galaxy, friends and foes alike.
Out of respect, Thexan kept his mask on, and slightly bowed his head but kept eye contact.
"Tayleen promised she wouldn't abandon you," he told the Sith lord.
Voice softening, Marr lowered his gaze upon him. "Now it is you who must not abandon her."
Torn between his loyalty to Tayleen, and his instinct to fight and stay beside his fellow warriors, Thexan was frozen in place, only able to move and look at Essan when his heavy hand pressed on his shoulder. The look they exchanged was wordless - faceless - but the Force tied them with the power of understanding, trust, and the awareness only two kindred spirits shared when brought together in the midst of chaos... He held his breath, mouth agape.
He never thought he would feel that bond again.
"Go, Thexan."
And so he ran. He fought off the skytroopers converging on the deck and tremors were so violent that entire floors were collapsing. The newly built lightsaber was perfectly balanced and the red crystal was powerful enough to withstand the energy of many blaster bolts simultaneously. He clashed his boots to kick and punched into metal with his protective gear, and if he'd had the leisure of time he would have been amazed at the sturdiness of the Sith armor.
It took far longer to reach the elevators now and they were barely functioning. For a moment that seemed to last for hours, he believed he had failed everyone. Luckily he only needed to go down two levels.
He had to climb over rubble and corpses to progress towards the hangars. The escape pods were still flying out of the Terminus, there were so few of them left.
His comlink chirped. "Thexan?"
"I'm heading back," he spoke into his mask, whirling his lightsaber forward to decapitate a skytrooper. He caught his weapon again and decided to break the news. "Essan and Marr are staying. I couldn't convince them to leave. I'm sorry."
His stomach knotted and he finally got to the hangar bay. Sections of bulkheads had fallen around the Phantom and the loading ramp lowered as he approached, taking off as soon as he had both feet on the ledge and the ramp raised closed.
Holding the railing as the thrusters pushed the ship to take flight, he held his lightsaber in the other hand and met the shocked eyes of the Rattataki mercenary. Pulling off his mask he strode passed her and got to the cockpit where a blue-skinned Twi'lek sat at the controls, beside her was Vector Hyllis. His attention was drawn to the viewport: the Fleet surrounded them, oppressed them with the immensity of its numbers. Turrets were firing at allied starfighters and the flagship was in sight, right on their ten-o'clock.
"Veer right," he told the pilot who happened to be Vector. "Stay low and jump to lightspeed on my mark."
The Phantom's engines growled as they changed direction and the Terminus was right above them, shielding them from view of the flagship. Thexan took support on the pilot's chair and winced, having reopened the tear in his scar that was still fresh from the fight with Essan, two days before.
"Hyperspace route calculated," stated the young Twi'lek. She looked up and her face was mournful. "Heading for Manaan at your signal."
He wondered if Arcann was there, searching for him. Stalking him. He thought with grim paranoia that this attack was all his fault and he had brought death upon his new friends. He also began to ask himself if he had provoked this by launching the galactic conquest, massively taking lives and feeding the dark rituals of Vitiate without even knowing it.
The Terminus was breached on all sides and was taking heavy fire from all of the Zakuulan warships.
"Darth Marr's flagship is about to give in," the man with pitch black eyes said, alarmed. "We are in the blast radius, sir."
It felt like the silence preceding a seismic sea wave before the thundering devastation took everything in its path. The Force was holding its breath before thousands of voices screamed. He looked at the woman with her hand just over the lightspeed activation switch.
"Now!"
The ship seemed to freeze in time and as it slowed, and with the quantum acceleration they perceived the last second that stretched for much longer and they saw fire was circling the viewport. The hull and fuselage of the Terminus shredded into pieces. Pure white energy blinded them just as the stars streaked into stripes in the background.
The Terminus disappeared from the Phantom's radar.
It didn't feel like he was failing for the first time. In the moment he realized they were in hyperspace and out of harm's way, he feared he was going to get used to running.
Running from his responsibilities, his fate and his mistakes. When Arcann and his father had been so close, he chose to let others die in his place. It wasn't like him. Was this survival, then? Where was the honor? Where was the glory?
He looked over at the blue-skinned Twi'lek and a tear was rolling down her face. She was close friends with Essan. He remembered her name was Vette.
"Darth Marr said the command deck could hold secure for a long time," he murmured to himself, hoping she would hear. "That's where they were when I left them."
Squeezing her eyes shut, the young woman rose from her seat and stormed out of the cockpit, radiating grief and heartbreak. The other man left there turned to look at Thexan with the solid black pools of his eyes.
"We fear this day will be long remembered as the most difficult time we've had to go through."
"We can't lose hope," he said, hanging on the fine thread of doubt in his mind. "They are still alive. I can feel it."
Vector raised a dark eyebrow. "Only you would know, sir. We have no direct link to the Force, the hive connects through Joiners across the galaxy and it is not the same perception. But we trust your judgment."
Leaving the cockpit, Thexan made his way to where Tayleen had gone, following Vector and letting the crew get accustomed to his presence. The medbay was a small room near the lounge and the medic was Doctor Eckard Lokin, a geneticist with a dubious past. The twins were resting in separate cribs, they had IV lines to be hydrated and their vitals were closely monitored with scanners. Tayleen was sitting between them, each of her hands caressing her babies over their blankets. It almost seemed intrusive to be there and watch as she was letting her tears dry on her face, caring for her sick children and the only medic was standing in the back of the room, using a microscope and pretending not to pay attention to him as he entered.
Everyone was setting aside their personal grievances to focus on more important matters, and he was there hoping - wishing - that Tayleen would look up and smile and thank him for saving them, maybe even take him in her arms. The last time she had held his hand he had felt weak and ashamed, nearly killed by his brother and rejected by his father for the last time. He no longer knew his place, nor who he was supposed to be.
So he sat there and waited, watched as she sadly hummed that wordless song to her children. That same tune he heard her sing the first time they met, aboard the transport that would bring her to his flagship from Berith. He watched her the same helpless way he did when she was in pain beside him and he had no idea what he was doing. It was too late to back out and find another place to stay and feel sorry for himself.
"The fever went down," he heard her say over his thoughts. "As soon as we left Wild Space they started feeling better."
He should have felt relieved. "And their heart condition?"
"They'll need special care until we arrive on Manaan. They have the best medical facilities."
It was true and he had studied the possibility of conquering Manaan. The planet was the only known source for kolto and despite the neutrality pact and many economic agreements with Zakuul, having free and unlimited access to the source was an advantage even Arcann would place high in his priorities.
He didn't want to plague her with that just yet. He tried to think of something else to say.
"I couldn't convince him to leave. He had made up his mind before I even reached the deck."
Tayleen looked up at him, eyes wide with sorrow and she wiped her face with her sleeve. Her voice was soft yet stern.
"I know," she replied.
"Maybe," he hesitantly complained, "if I hadn't been here for you, he would have come back and he'd be safe."
Coward. He was nothing more. Trying to get an already grieving woman to cry over him and tell him that he mattered. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I'm going to see if we can contact Manaan prior to landing and negotiate some sort of asylum."
He couldn't have gone from the room any faster. He looked around the lounge area and saw a holoprojector, a mission terminal, the couch and table and he knew the only other rooms on the ship were occupied by members of Tayleen's crew. Returning to the cockpit he found Vector again and this time the Joiner didn't speak to him.
Thexan sat where Vette previously was and he clenched his teeth, holding his midsection as he groaned with pain. The computer terminal unlocked as soon as he touched the screen. Manaan was neutral, yes, but their conditions were intricate and specific to each faction they dealt with. If he presented himself as Zakuul then his brother and father would immediately be advised of his presence. If he impersonated a Sith, well... It wasn't like the Empire was in a state to cross-check the activities of wayward Sith lords. He had a chance.
"You should have your wounds treated, sir."
He tore his gaze off the screen to meet the black eyes of Vector. The man smiled kindly.
"We still have four days of hyperspace travel ahead of us. Manaan can wait before hearing our announcement. Besides, the Selkath owe the Agent a few favors. We are sure they will welcome us no-questions-asked."
He accepted to be taken into the crew bunks to shed his armor from the waist up and let Vector apply kolto on his scar. Lying under poor lighting and the Rattataki woman making disgusted faces over the man's shoulder, he had a clue the healing wasn't going well.
"You've lost blood," Vector calmly said, the disinfectant he used burned Thexan across the stomach. "And there is a mild infection. I strongly suggest you see Doctor Lokin for appropriate care."
"I can't," he muttered, his eyes hidden under the crook of his elbow. He knew he stunk of sweat and grime from wearing the armor during combat. "He has better to do at the moment."
"Like hell," spat the mercenary. "You need to shower first then we'll see about that appropriate care."
"Here is a wide spectrum anti-biotic."
"Ngh!"
The jab of the syringe caught him off guard and it felt like a punch in the gut. He fought to sit up and look down at the horizontal cut across his abdomen and saw the redness around the edges and the swollen bits where stitches ripped. The internal damage from Arcann's saber had healed enough to allow for movement but the stress of combat was just over the line.
"We are no physician," Vector said with unsettling confidence, "but we should advise you to refrain from strenuous physical activity for the time being."
Hands propped to her hips, the Rattataki smirked and cocked a hairless eyebrow.
"Yeah, and that includes doing the dirty." Her bright white eyes sized him up. "Too bad. Even with the funky smells I'd still hit that."
Thexan tried not to let his face blush and he reached for his black shirt. It was unfortunately stained with his own blood and other bodily fluids. Vector tilted his head and took the garment from him.
"We would share our clothes with you but we are afraid they wouldn't fit. Help yourself to our accommodations while we launder your clothes."
Vector was thinner and slightly shorter. He regretted not having packed a set of spares and he missed his armor. His Zakuulan regal armor. It was tailored for him and suited him like a glove.
Now it was no more, destroyed with the rest of everything that was on board Darth Marr's ship.
He spent a certain amount of time in the refreshers, scrubbing himself clean and hoping the warm water wouldn't run out while the laundry machine took care of his fabrics. Stepping out of the shower cubicle, he saw that the cycle luckily was on dry mode. There was a mirror and sink behind him and he kept his eyes down for a moment, inspecting the cabinets and drawers for anything of use while he was there. He found a set of brush and clippers that he assumed belonged to the two other men on board. He wasn't sure if he could borrow it from them so he renounced to groom his hair until they landed.
As he wrapped a towel around his waist, he accidentally looked and saw his brother, no- he accidentally caught sight of himself in the mirror. He always hated when that happened. Each line, each part of him and even the sound of his voice reminded him of Arcann. The Arcann he had always known, the dear brother he loved and cared about. His other half, before the transformation.
Eyes reddening, he tentatively placed his right palm over half of his face on the mirror, hiding his eye, nose and mouth. What was left of Arcann was still there. He had to believe it.
He had to hope to see him again one day.
He put on his black undersuit and shirt before leaving the refreshers. The scar was still numb from the kolto and he was so used to the pain now he didn't remember not hurting in that area. How long has it been? Two weeks?
"You wanna bunk with me, boy?" said the Rattataki, sitting with her knees hanging from her cot when he piled up his armor at the foot of the double bed. "It gets cold in space. And I can be warm and cuddly when the mood strikes."
Letting out a breath, he tried not to appear too annoyed. People no longer worshiped him or bowed to him. He was no better than anyone and that took some getting used to.
"Thank you, I'll be fine."
Snickering maniacally, she threw her feet on her mattress and folded her arms under her bald head.
"If you need company, just let me know."
He put his neatly folded cloak on the far side of the bed and his mask placed nearest to the recharging port to maintain its batteries. He'd never shared a room with anyone after Arcann and him grew up, so he didn't react and pretended he couldn't hear. The only company he wanted was that of familiar faces that weren't his own. He longed for the soothing sound of a caring voice that belonged to someone he'd grown fond of over the last month. He wanted more of the brotherly interactions that he was beginning to share with Essan.
The ship was beautifully calm and silent when everyone was asleep, and he waited until he was sure no one could find him wandering, barefooted and tired. He found a droid in the engineering room. It had feminine attributes and narrowed its yellow eyes at him before turning away, choosing to ignore him.
The central room of the Phantom was comfortable and the hum of the engine was barely audible. He walked through towards the cockpit and decided to sleep there. His awareness could stay alert in case the proximity sensors would detect something.
He dreamed of Zakuul, vaguely recalling something he was saying to the Exarchs during a conference or a briefing. Then he saw himself fighting on Berith and walking up to the little house in the middle of the woods where skytroopers were being shot. He then smelled something sweet and citrus and felt something warm on his shoulder. Tayleen. They were looking at the galaxy through the viewport of her diplomatic chamber, her hand-drawn star chart super-imposed with the actual stars.
"Thexan."
He took a sudden breath and woke up reluctantly to see the blue whirls of hyperspace in front of him. He was sitting in the pilot's chair, arms folded over his scar and he turned to see what was weighing on his shoulder. Relief washed over him as Tayleen looked down at him worriedly before attempting a smile. She had washed the paint from her face and she smelled of cleanliness and she wore a robe over her loose-fitting sleeping suit. She sat on the seat nearby, the one intended for the copilot and she crossed a leg over the other, barefooted as well.
Stop staring at her.
"Sorry," he said, his dry throat begging to cough. "I didn't know you were awake."
Her blue eyes reflected the outside view. "I couldn't sleep before coming to talk to you."
He clenched his jaw muscles and held her gaze, hoping his heart would settle down soon. "I was worried, too."
She moved her attention away from him and curled her fingers into her palms, hiding her hands in her lap. He saw her throat work. Leaning forward, he hoped to show he was receptive to what she had to say. Between her sick children and the loss of their father, he couldn't bear to see her so fragile.
"Do you remember what was the last thing Essan said?"
He nodded. It was saved and backed up, recorded into the chip inside his mask. "He told me to go to you, to keep you safe."
She still faced the viewport. "But that's not what he meant, was it?"
The intensity of her grief made his chest ache, anxious that she would start crying. "I've lost a brother," he began saying to her. "I don't want you to lose him."
"So he is still alive?" she turned her incredulous gaze to him. "Can you sense it?"
"I would have known if he had passed," he answered bitterly.
Her voice was raspy and she narrowed her eyelids.
"Can we rescue him?"
Unable to fight the tremor in his whole body he wiped his face in his palms and shook his head.
"The time shift lapsed to a full day for Zakuul. If he was captured he is in the Spire now, taken prisoner by my brother." He bit his lips and averted her deadly stare. "I only hope everyone we know on the Terminus has made it out safely. They're our only chance to salvage the coalition."
"What about Darth Marr?"
"He stayed with Essan until the end."
But what end?
"We should regroup with Lana on Manaan," Tayleen said, recovering her wits as she straightened her back. She smoothed her hands over her leg pants. "Then we'll worry about the coalition."
There was a faint hissing sound and they both looked towards the back of the ship.
"I made tea," she said, standing and leading him out. "Come, we both need to have that meal you talked about."
Searching her face, he started recalling the time he had talked about sharing food with her when a sudden push made him lose balance and he caught himself on the edge of the door frame, lungs aching and head throbbing painfully.
He heard screaming, wailing and sobbing. Newborn sobs that came from the medbay. Tayleen was running towards them and he tried to follow, only to feel his legs fail under his weight and he caught his temples in his hands, deafened by a shock wave as he sat on the floor of the hallway.
So be it.
The voice was unmistakable. The voice of his father.
Father, what have you done? He couldn't think, he couldn't make sense of what he was feeling and seeing. There was nothing but the void, death as if released from a spell and discharging its power across the galaxy. It wasn't like Ziost as Marr had described it in his essay, but much more powerful, and less defined. It went in every direction and for a moment, Thexan thought he was going to die.
He thought everyone aboard the ship was going to die.
He pushed himself off his knees, grasping at his connection to the Force with all of his might to get to Tayleen and her babies. The few paces that separated him from the medbay seemed like an uphill climb. Eventually he found her holding her toddlers in both hands as she sat in the chair between the cribs, and they were calming down. Their hiccups and little whines for only indication that they had been disturbed and frightened in their sleep.
"They felt it too," he said, panting, eyes watering. "Valkorion..."
Tayleen raised her worried expression towards him. "What about Valkorion?" she breathed.
He trained himself to fill and empty his lungs in rhythm and not try to hold his breath. The pain he'd felt in his chest had gone and he almost forgot about his wound. He even forgot about the loss of his home and his brother and-
"My father," he answered, fighting hard to believe it himself, "he is dead."
And he couldn't wrap his mind around the aftershock of the realization of his father's death, no longer sensing the presence of Valkorion, the ever looming eye that watched his every move and decision, seeded deep in his consciousness. Not only was his father gone, but he had so quickly compared the effect of his death with the annihilation of a world swallowed whole by none other than Vitiate.
"Do you think..." Tayleen began, before rising to set her children down in their cribs and they were so tired from crying that they barely protested. "Who did it? Do you know?"
"No," he replied, distracted. "I just know that he's no longer alive. His power is gone."
Skeptical but alarmed, she hooked a hand inside his elbow to drag him away from the twins and sat him around the table in the lounge.
"Are you sure this isn't some natural phenomenon, maybe a nearby supernova? There would be a quasar in this sector."
"It's him, I should know," he insisted, looking up as she stood over him. "I'm his son."
She seemed to quiet down her doubts as she folded her arms against her breasts. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," he told her flatly. "But now that he is gone, the only certain thing I know is that Arcann is going to take the throne."
He didn't know how he'd done it, but Arcann had managed to get what he desired.
"Do you think Essan did it?" she asked, sitting next to him. "Or Marr?"
"I don't know." He shifted in the couch to give her more room. "It's very possible that both of them could overpower him." With Arcann's aid, he mentally continued.
Tayleen was searching his face as if she could find more explanations that way and he sensed that she was at a loss, blinded to the things he could see through the Force.
"Can his... death do any harm to my children?" she softly asked, audibly close to sobbing.
He sighed and hoped he wasn't wrong, that what he wished wasn't overlapping with his perception. He leaned back his head against the seat and looked back at her.
"As long as they have their mother," he said carefully, "someone who loves them and cares for them, nothing could harm your children."
She blinked and nodded, looking away as if nothing was clear anymore. Her struggle as a young parent was something he empathized with and he felt ready to support her.
"You're not alone," Thexan continued. "You have your whole crew here. I'm here. I know now what I have to do."
If anything, the twins would need protection and early tutoring in the Force to help shield them from the outside. After all, he was the only Force user among the crew.
Parting her lips to speak, Tayleen batted her eyelashes and seemed apologetic.
"And I assumed he wanted you to replace him," she paused to look away. "I'm sorry, I've put you in a difficult position."
"I was as mistaken as you were, and I have no excuse." He tried to find an exit in their conversation. "You went through a lot, this past month. You deserve to rest, find peace in some way."
She had clammed up again and he waited, patient and quiet until she could finally speak.
"I think I love him," she said barely over a whisper. "That's all I know, and I never told him."
The emotional confession broke his heart. It tore at his hopes to ever get a taste of what this love felt like. It trampled his soul to know how cynical and bitter they had been towards one another.
"He knows," he told her patiently. "Don't blame yourself for what he did. We will see him again, I'm sure of it."
She smiled but it appeared like a forced gesture of gratitude. She couldn't sense what he sensed through the Force, or what her children could experience at their very young age. She was a mother who couldn't protect her children from invisible powers. Thexan hesitantly smiled back.
"You saved me from certain death," he reminded her. "You also opened my eyes to the truth, that my choices matter, that I could find meaning to my existence."
His words made her consciously adjust the closing of her robe while she listened.
"What meaning is that?"
Thexan searched her caring gaze and locked his spine straight, feeling drawn to her.
"To fight for a just cause," he answered. "Essan told me that sacrifice was more than death, it was devotion over selflessness. Loyalty..."
His voice trailed off as she lowered her face to hide her eyes and she used the edge of her palm to dry them.
"If Vitiate is able to hurt my children," she said, "how could anyone help? I can't shake this thought. I can't even sleep in my own bed because it's too far from the medbay. What if they..."
She covered her mouth and tears flowed over her cheeks.
"He is no longer here," Thexan assured her, once again plagued by the notion that his father's disappearance coincided with Vitiate's. "You saw how calm they are now. They're safe, Tayleen."
She looked at through the open door behind her and they heard no cries, no whimpers coming from the cribs. If anything was wrong the health monitors would sound an alarm. His hand itched to touch her shoulder and tell her they were okay. Never in his life had he been so afraid of what someone would say or do to him. Not even when facing his own father. She turned to look back at him with a skeptical expression and he guessed she needed more than promises.
"Oh," she said apologetically. "Tea. I forgot."
While she left for the kitchen located near the crew quarters he sat and pondered whether or not she was ready to call it a day. Despite the signs of stress they both experienced, he didn't feel like going to sleep just yet. The sole idea of sharing a drink with her kept him very much awake.
When she returned he stood to help her carry the jug of hot tea to the table.
"It's not sweetened, I hope that's how you like it."
"Yes, thank you."
He didn't care how it was made or how it tasted, only glad she was willing to spend more time with him.
She took a seat on the couch, shifting to a comfortable and casual position to lean against the back.
"I'm almost afraid to ask," he began, "how are you recovering?"
Blowing air over her cup, she gave him a sly look and twitched her lips, amused. "I'm doing alright. I miss my exercise, though. Can't do proper sit-ups with my guts threatening to pour out of me."
He smiled, knowing the feeling all too well.
"What about you?"
"Oh, I'm... I don't want to brag, but I popped a few stitches when fighting on the Terminus." Her face changed to pity and disgust. "It's okay, Vector took care of it. I should be fine if I don't exert myself for a while."
Tayleen put her cup on the table and rubbed an itch on her neck. When her blue eyes looked back at his, she almost stuttered.
"I... shouldn't be asking this."
No, no, please. Don't...
He braced himself and sat as stone, eyes wide. She paused and hesitantly asked.
"Why am I making you uncomfortable? I couldn't help but notice, since we started talking, you and I."
"No," he naively corrected, "I enjoy your company."
"Just not this sort of company," she added, edging her hand on the couch near his. "I won't touch you if you prefer it that way."
"Ah, um," he tried not to let his fears overcome his mind, "yes. Please, that would help."
His lips were tingling and his eyes warmed up while his brain shouted No! What are you doing? Please touch my hand! and he just smiled and took a sip of hot tea, almost burning his tongue and pallet.
At that moment he cursed and blessed the fact that she couldn't read his mind or sense his emotions.
"You confuse me, Thexan," she curiously said. "Today you were very assertive and confident, as the leader you've been your entire life, and now it's like we barely met, or you would have no idea who I am, what we've been through."
"A lot has happened," he whispered. "And I don't want to do or say something I will regret."
"Today has been the worst day," she complained wearily. "It's a wonder how we can spend quiet time drinking tea at the end."
He took another sip and tried to think of a compliment to change the subject, but every topic in his mind was an indirect route to his admiration for her. Her life, her appearance, her attitude towards him. He felt tired, emotionally and physically.
"Would you like to sleep in my cabin?"
Furrowing his brow, he clutched the cup in his hands and parted his lips to refuse.
"I will sleep with the twins," she explained, her face very genuinely honest. "I figured you would want to sleep on your own, and not in a shared bunk bed with everyone."
"I- thank you. That's very considerate. But..." He stopped as she widened her eyes slightly. "I wouldn't want to be sending the wrong message, should someone see me there. I was going to sleep in the cockpit until you found me."
She breathed out irritably. "In your condition." Leaning her elbows on the table, her fingers drummed on her cup as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Thexan... Am I more than a friend, to you?"
He found himself searching her gaze in return, as if he could find the answer there and hopefully make sense of what he was feeling for her. She knew. He felt ambushed and unable to move, yet he was willing to surrender to her and reveal everything.
"I care very much about you," he finally said, quietly. "Despite everything that's happened, I know I should be focused on the war and not meddle with your life, instead here we are. And you can see right through me."
She softened her gaze. "I can't. That's why I'm asking."
"Oh."
Tayleen sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Whatever my crew believes is going on between us, just know that you have nothing to hide. I told them who you are and how important you are to me." She watched his hands as he placed his cup of tea on the table. "That night, after you stopped Arcann in my room, I was heartbroken. I cried for hours thinking I had lost a friend. When you insisted to talk to me afterwords I knew you needed me as much as I needed you."
Ignoring the thunder in his chest, Thexan leaned forward if only to whisper in reply.
"You were detained at the time and I was still a slave to my father. We had no other choice but to rely on each other."
"Nevertheless," she blinked rapidly at him, "what we felt still matter."
He could feel her breath reaching his face and he was almost deafened by his pulse. "Because your husband is gone and I'm the only Force user on your crew to help protect your children. Our relationship is circumstantial."
The line in her forehead softened and she moved back from him. "You aren't Essan. He left us because he knows the pain I feel every time he looks at me. I am in agony when I see him caring so much for the twins because he never stays. He-" she repressed a hiccup and covered her face, her eyes were drowning in tears. "He couldn't stand seeing me like this... That's why you are here. Thexan..."
She was shaking and unable to calm herself and he was overwhelmed with the ache of being abandoned. His arm reached for her and he gave no thought to moving closer and letting her body press against his.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his words falling flat as she touched his hand over her shoulder. Her breathing slowed and she sniffled something vile in her nostrils but he knew all too well what it was like to lay awake at night, plagued by these feelings ever since his childhood.
"This is a great twist," she sarcastically complained. "You're the one who is trapped with me now."
Nervous, he chuckled and failed to ignore the soothing caress of her hand over his fingers, the warmth of her body nestled at his side. She brought her feet upon the seat and compressed her belly with her robe.
"It still hurts," he said. "You shouldn't sit that way."
"I can sit however I want. It's my body," she lazily replied, eyes closed as if she was trying to sleep. "Besides, it doesn't hurt that much now."
No, it shouldn't. Thexan stayed silent as he let her tangle her fingers with his because he was letting the Force swell over her presence and taking the pain away for the both of them.
"Tayleen, I'm using a meditative method to ease the suffering of battle injuries," he cautiously said. "Needless to say I had lots of practice since Arcann, and aiding the Knights in our conquests."
"I see... Can it heal wounds quicker?"
"Over time, yes."
He became aware of the extent of her surgery, the length of the cut in her muscles and skin, the scarring tissue in her womb. The wound felt real as if it were his own. She shuddered beneath his arm and covered the robe tightly around herself.
"Was that...?" she looked up, inches from his face. "Did you-"
"Sorry, I'm- I won't do it again."
"That," she replied, very awake and surprised, putting her feet down, "was something I didn't expect. But you should do it again next time I'm more comfortable. Preferably in bed."
Her smile and serene look made his shame fly away. The last thing on his mind was to trespass any forbidden areas, especially concerning her person. He was still blushing when she got up and smoothed her hands over her robe.
"It was inappropriate of me-"
She shook her head and stopped him, touching his shoulder.
"It's okay, there's nothing to be ashamed of. But when it comes to you I want to take things slow," she shyly said, looking over to him. "You should take my room, even for a few hours."
He nodded, watching her walk small silent steps towards the medbay.
The captain's cabin was small yet comfortable and he felt ill at ease to occupy her bed, even though she insistingly told him to use it. He lied over the blanket and took a deep breath, smelling her subtle scent on the linens and pillows. He imagined she was used to sleeping alone, perhaps in the same sleeping garb she wore that night. Perhaps wearing a sleeping gown like he'd seen her using aboard his ship. Trying to think of better ways to have dealt with her condition he reflected with anger at his awkwardness. Nobody had ever been so nice to him like she was and he didn't know how to repay her in kind.
His only friend used to be Arcann. He had given his life for his brother. His only friend. What was he doing now?
He feared ever meeting Arcann again, afraid to see what he had become now that their father was gone.
Trying to fall asleep, he let his mind wander and linger on the only person that meant something good to him, still warm where she was sitting against him, holding his own hand as if it was hers. She never rejected him and cared about him, even when he made a mistake. She wanted him with her as much as he wanted to be.
At last he knew his purpose, and found sleep.
