By Sapadu

Chapter 2: Prepare

pre·pare /prɪˈpɛər/ Pronunciation Key - [pri-pair verb, -pared, -par·ing.

–verb (used with object)

1. to put in proper condition or readiness

2. to get (a meal) ready for eating, as by proper assembling, cooking, etc.

3. to manufacture, compound, or compose:

4. Music. to lead up to (a discord, an embellishment, etc.) by some preliminary tone or tones.

–verb (used without object)

5. to put things or oneself in readiness; get ready

A year passed.

Triclops grew used to the days, as a routine developed: be awakened by an abusive poke when the hour was still far too early, be told to stand outside in the bitter cold and do absolutely nothing as the officer for the day took his time coming over and taking record of #63696, be given a palms-width portion of blackened bread to eat within one minute, be taken to the laboratory, be tested, drugged, sedated, and shocked until he passed out and his other self took over, be beaten for the attempted uprising of the day, repeat as necessary, and be taken back to solitary confinement when the day's torture was over- he was the only one who seemed to be surviving. He never saw the other prisoners during the day.

Privately, Triclops wondered if that was for the better. True, he didn't want to see anymore misery and suffering, as would be guaranteed to happen if he had to be cramped in with a large group of people- he might be having a horrible experience, but there were a number of others in these prisons that Triclops was certain were having even worse troubles than he- but at the same time, he wanted some assurance that there were still some other people alive in the galaxy than just himself and the men who were finding seeming delight in tearing him apart every day.

It seemed foolish, but there were just some days that he would be put back in that little cell of confinement, and every part of his body screamed with pain so much that Triclops was convinced that he was the only living person in the universe anymore.

Or maybe he was just losing his mind.

'What do you call yourself?'

Triclops had grown used to, if not accepting, of this second presence inside his head. Right up to the point that he would spend much of his time in a sedation-induced dream inside his own dreamscape, staring down at the warped reflection in the glassy floor.

His other self considered.

'I rather liked that name that Woman suggested...' He said, even as Triclops' asked who 'Woman' was- the other version of himself didn't seem anywhere near inclined to answer him or be in the least bit charitable, 'When the girl found out she was carrying something in the sack...' Ah, Kendalina's brief pregnancy had incited something with their split personalities, then, 'She got all wound up, wondering what names you two should pick out and suggested one for me... that old word for 'man'... Viro, wasn't it?' His other face suggested.

Triclops was silent.

'...So, I'm 'Boy', aren't I?' He asked, having a bad feeling about this. On the other hand, a great deal was beginning to make sense.

'Of course...'

It was an odd fact of nature, but as Triclops became more and more accustomed to the presence of this other personality, he also became more able to control some aspects of his dreamscapes- whereas before, Triclops was mostly floating in a void and hearing a snide, arrogant, sometimes morbidly humorous version of his own voice speaking from all directions.

Now, Triclops could at least materialize a floor beneath him. This was incredibly preferable to just floating in a sea of nothingness. Equally preferred was that his other self's- though he supposed if they were going to have different names, he should start thinking in terms of Wiro or Viro or however it was spelled, anyway- voice was coming from a direction instead of all around him.

It just happened to be that the side Viro's voice came from was always BEHIND him, where he couldn't see.

'Now, about this other eye of mine...' Triclops finally said, calmly expecting a debate, 'You said you know what it can do.'

He heard Viro smirk- actually, it was a laugh, but it was the kind of laugh that Triclops knew what kind of facial expression would match it- before he heard that voice behind him answer.

'I said I knew. I never said I would tell YOU.' This was true, but living with Kendalina had taught Triclops nothing, if not how to patiently wheedle things out of people.

'Then who WERE you planning to tell?' Triclops asked as the snickering stopped.

'Who said I was gonna tell ANYONE?' Challenged Viro. Triclops didn't rise to the baiting tone.

'You did- you just said you would not tell me, but you implied that you WOULD tell someone else. Besides, keeping secrets like that bottles up inside your head will make it explode, so you would be FORCED to tell someone, sooner or later.' Triclops replied, calmly. He could imagine the look on his other personality's face, even if he couldn't visualize an actual face to go with the personality called Viro.

'...You... I've been a bad influence on you...' He finally heard Viro. Triclops did his best not to be amused.

'Oh?'

'You used to be a meek, submissive, little runt. Now you're speaking up, taking control, and still growing after 175 centimeters. I'm obviously doing something wrong.' Triclops could almost feel a figurative hand over his figurative head.

That was another thing that made Triclops wonder if he was losing his mind- when did he start having body parts in his subconsciousness, where he was just pure thought?

'That may be Kendalina's influence more than your own. But you still have to answer me.' There was a huff, before he heard something from Viro.

'Well, fine- for one thing, this weirdass eye of yours can see through things, kind of like an x-ray can. That's why you kept seeing stuff happening outside your cell. Then, it can look through space and time- in other words, you can see the past, present, or future of places far away and stuff. Finally, it BENDS space and time with minor telekinesis. That one time YOU used it, it went spinning out of control so that's why the whole room got turned upside-down. Controlled properly, some pretty cool shit can be done with it.'

Triclops pondered this and wondered if Kendalina had been an influence on his other personality as much as himself and he couldn't help but wonder, again, where this Viro came from, in the first place.

'You mean it can cause some pretty cool shit, I would assume?' He asked, in that manner which he was fairly confident only he could pull off, swearing and yet sounding so polite at the same time.

'Something like that, yeah.'

Triclops paused, then tried a new question.

'And the reason you would know this better than myself would be... because...?'

But all that Triclops heard was silence, before he awoke and saw that he was in his cell again. And he was alone.

Triclops had lost track of time- it was measured in days and nights, periods of sleep and periods of wake, moments of blissful unconscious and moments of torturous awareness. He'd even lost track of how many nights had fallen. Triclops knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the number was large, probably in the hundreds, but if you had told him it had been just one-hundred and three days, he would have believed just as easily if you had told him it had been eight-hundred and seventy-two.

Instead of time, Triclops measured his weeks and months in terms of what changed around him. His feet were longer and wider than the stones inside his solitary cell, when they used to be small enough to be pressed against one of the flatter stones and fit within the box set. His hands were big enough now that he could put one over his face and touch his ears without crushing his nose or poking himself in the eye.

Triclops was even aware, now, of how far Viro had come with his regime of keeping in shape and getting stronger by fighting back against the guards. By this point, Triclops was aware that his body was now immune to lethal dosages of most poisons and, if the situation should ever call for it, he could lift a solid metal door clear over his head and use it as a swatter to swipe down guards, one at a time.

Since there was precious little else to do except be experimented on and tortured, Triclops spent most of his time withdrawn into what could have been called a semi-coma, just barely aware of when it came time to eat, drink, expel, and walk. During that time, or his time in the cell, he was incredibly bored. Because of this, he'd used a loose piece of stone to carefully chip, scrape, and file away at the stones in the cell. After a great deal of time, they were smooth enough that, should a guard threw him in again like they did after beatings, Triclops would not be impaled on a sharp point, or even a blunt protrusion.

There were exactly six-hundred, eighty-seven, and three-fourths stones in the walls, ceiling, and floor of the cell. Triclops knew. He had been VERY bored.

'Is it true then?' Triclops asked. Viro cast him a bemused look, 'That I am the offspring of the Chancellor?'

It had been a tedious, taxing, and rather odd process, but Triclops could now visualize a place in his dreamscape. The process had been taxing, Triclops would say, because it involved a great deal of mental acrobatics that, now that he knew how to do them, were quite easy to do. Still, he had a face to put with the otherwise disembodied voice that had been haunting him on and off since he was eleven years old.

Viro stared at him, and for a moment, Triclops wondered if his other self didn't understand the word, until he spoke.

'It's... true..."

Triclops had been expecting that answer- but mostly because he had been hoping, desperately, that the answer would be 'no' and he could be relieved that he was wrong in that way...

'Oh...'

'I didn't think you would remember- that was why you made me in the first place.'

Triclops didn't reply, until he finally looked at Viro and asked.

'What do you mean by 'made'?' Triclops finally asked, and Viro raised an elegant eyebrow, 'You keep saying things like this... what do you mean?'

Viro pushed himself up and rose through the glass floor so he was laying next to Triclops, head propped up on one arm.

'...Well... I suppose... it starts with when you were around three...' Viro mused. Triclops blinked and cocked his head. '...Since you were put into isolation like this so long ago... and since, at an early age, you were tortured and experimented on... to escape that hellish experience, you created a character who was strong, brave, and able to endure those treatments.'

Triclops blinked, then looked away.

'So... that character became you, as I convinced myself that there was another person like that... but, why are you...' Triclops glanced up at the reflection of his own face and searched for a word. The features were something which he didn't know how to label... they were strong, sharp, but somewhat hollower and...

...more... distinguished?

'...Older?' Triclops finally managed.

Viro smiled. Now that Triclops thought about it, there was a very distinct shape that Viro occupied- he was taller, leaner, but also more compact. Unlike Triclops' clumsy, adolescent height and stringy figure, Viro was powerful and commanding, with the same big hands and feet, but matching arms and legs of muscle that merely made him look like a very large man, as opposed to a gangly teenager. His chin came to a sharper point, his eyes were narrower and a deeper, darker green, and his face had furrows and wrinkles, yet remained smooth and young at the same time.

Perhaps, Triclops wondered, this is what his body and face would look like if he ever managed to live to be a real adult- his twenties or possibly even thirties. He was even dressed like it- all black, but the sleeves on his shirt missing to reveal his arms, shoulders, and back. It was enough to make Triclops stare long enough to ponder the limits of the word 'Narcissism'.

'You also envisioned this character to be a kind of protector- a person who could watch over you with wisdom and a kind of fatherly attitude. Which explains why you detested me so when I started emerging in these more recent years and renewed your awareness of me.'

Triclops merely blinked, but said nothing, even as he was quite sure Viro knew how unamused Triclops was.

'Ah, rebellious teenage years...'

'That is not funny.' Triclops warned.

'Sure it is- I'm getting quite a kick out of how annoyed you're getting. And I'll bet Woman and that girl and her teacher would laugh to see you actually get peeved over something for a change.'

'Oh, so it is alright for people to laugh AT me, is what you are saying.' Triclops muttered, feeling more than just a little resentful. Though he couldn't deny the truth in Viro's words- he had been changing from the time when he had been complacent and accepting of everything that other people decided for him. This new him would have at least been insulted and indignant towards the Jedi who Kendalina had challenged to a fight for calling him a whore.

Triclops stopped that line of thought right there- just thinking about the Jedi, even the Knights and their padawans that had always seen him as a murderer, was so unbearably painful.

'Pretty much, yeah.'

Triclops didn't glare, but he did send Viro a questioning glance- he was less and less like a fatherly figure and more and more like an irritating older brother as every second went by. But it was better than nothing.

On the outside of Triclops' mind, the tampering on his body had taken a severe change.

Technicians, medics, and scientists, frustrated with a lack of results from the apparent coma #63696 had fallen into, began to write instructions for the stormtroopers to follow, as they were now being forbidden to go near the prisoner. Coma or no, the superiors deemed him too dangerous for a valuable asset like a scientist or a medic to be near, especially when they had so few to spare.

They prodded his body with various drugs, new electro therapy techniques, and experiments. They couldn't risk surgery, as their orders were to keep him alive and coherent.

However, it was an extremely odd order that they'd been given, to find a method that would enable him to remember his dreams if he awoke and, if they could not force him to consciousness, to stimulate sleep-talking.

Nobody knew why, nor did they question- officers who argued were traitors, and if their lives were not forfeit, their families' would be.

More time had passed. Triclops was growing bored again.

The number of stones in his cell was still at six-hundred, eighty-seven, and three-fourths. They were as smooth as they were going to get, after all of Triclops' hammering on them with his loose chip of rock- smoother than the insides of a boiled egg, even though Viro had suggested the metaphor 'smoother than freshly shaved women's legs', which Triclops had rejected because he had no idea whether or not women's legs WERE smooth when freshly shaved. Kendalina had never done it.

He'd managed to find a way to repair all the rips in his shirt- wearing the same tattered prisoner's shirt every day for God-knew-how-long-now had grown to be the source of great irritation, before Triclops started picking at the frays one day and finally started to tie the pieces of thread back together, sealing up the fraying ends of the rips, then sealing back up the holes.

It had been delicate work, but it had occupied an amount of time that Triclops was willing to bet was equivalent to a month, if not two.Now, he was finished and there was nothing left to do.

So, considering he was being tortured already, he had decided that he would be much better off being informed about his origins and his past- after all, the medics could, theoretically, resort to interrogation and psychological manipulation one day. After all, they had kept him alive THIS long and they must have had a purpose, which only made Triclops think that it was because he knew something they wanted.

Viro had indeed agreed that it was a reasonable option and, additionally, he had no doubts that they would try using Triclops' lack of knowledge of his past to feed him some story about how he'd murdered someone in cold blood and he deserved to be imprisoned or something along those lines.

'But you're REALLY sure you want to know what happened to you that made you create a second personality like me?' He asked, uncertainly. Triclops continued to stare at Viro, not blinking once.

'Yes. I am sure.' Triclops replied. He knew that Viro was just looking out for him, but couldn't bring himself to care enough to cooperate. He wanted the truth, and he didn't really care enough about himself to worry over the repercussions. Viro was watching him closely and carefully, before he sighed, though fondly.

'It's not a pleasant story- if you want to hear it, you've got to sit through the whole thing, even if there comes a point that you don't want to listen anymore.' Viro's voice was stern, which Triclops had never thought he'd hear from anything like his own voice. After a long moment of silence, Triclops took a deep breath and nodded.

'I understand. But I still must know.' Triclops repeated. Viro frowned, a little, but relented.

'Very well... I suppose the best way to start... is with the old man. You called him Chancellor, but for as long as I've existed, I knew him as Darth Sidious.' Triclops frowned, slightly, but didn't ask any questions, 'That's who he was when you were conceived. And, I guess, the reason I was aware of this even when you weren't was because you subconsciously knew it... probably because of that whole Force thing.'

Triclops took a moment to ponder this, feeling shivers go up his spine, but continued to listen as Viro continued.

'Chances are, however, that he never met your mother face to face... the conception was... unusual, to say the least...' This sparked something in Triclops' mind.

'That is what he said- he said the experiment went wrong from the start...' Before that OTHER man had...

'Yes, it HAD been an experiment... I'm not sure what the hell the old man is up to, but he's trying to do SOMETHING which has to do with human life, somehow or another. And, if you want my opinion...'

'Which I do not.'

'...The woman who won the Get-Fucked-Over lottery to be your mother... what was that woman's name... Nio-something or other... wasn't too pleased with it, either...' Triclops rolled his eyes- he probably should have known that right from the get-go, instead of having to be told, but that didn't make the fact that someone was telling him how his mother hadn't wanted him any less painful, '...And I'm pretty sure she died giving birth, so you can bet that there's some spirit wandering around out there, looking for the old man's head on a pike. And maybe yours, if she was a bitch.'

'Were you going to finish telling me about my past, or continue with this editorial?' Triclops asked, but Viro continued to talk- though, to give him credit, he stopped rambling about how lousy of a mother Triclops' birth mother must have been.

'Of course, when you were BORN there was the eye- nobody really liked that thing, or how whenever you opening it, weird shit always seemed to happen that they couldn't control. Then, there was the fact that you were born underweight, so the old man decided you were a failure right from the start. Problem was, since he needed to know how the experiment would turn out as you aged- maybe the eye thing would go away as you got older or some shit like that- he couldn't just kill you, so he left you to the slave traders...'

Triclops knew where this was going.

'Who sold me into prostitution.' Even though he didn't remember the exact details, Triclops knew well enough what happened there, 'I am not completely unaware of the events that took place THERE. I DID do some research on the slave market when I was in the Temple.'

'Yeah, and d'you know WHY you remembered that little detail of your past? Why you remembered being sold?' Triclops paused, considered, and finally concluded that he did not want to answer that question. Viro kept talking, anyway, 'I wanted you to be prepared, for one thing, but for another, I wanted to be able to take over in case of an emergency. As long as you had completely forgotten and suppressed everything, I couldn't do anything.'

Triclops wanted to come up with a witty remark to at least make Viro stop sounding so damn smug, but once he thought about it, it made a great deal of sense- the first time that he could ever recall having a blackout was after Master Yaddle's death and Kendalina had a semi-breakdown... and that had been the day after his first dream about the slave traders. While Triclops hadn't really remembered it, there had still been the vague feeling left when he'd awoken... That must have acted as the trigger.

'In any case, you were about four when you started out with me- I think it was the first really brutal...' Triclops shot him a glare to make Viro skip over the actual word, which the split personality seemed to understand well enough, '...This big, ugly brute, really fond of restraining and violence... He had his merry way, walked off whistling, and you... well... kind of lost it. Went a bit catatonic and when you wouldn't even respond, They gave you a beating... So, you started to wonder if you would ever be able to stand up to Them and how and wishing that someone would stop Them instead of letting Them do as They pleased. I started off as an imaginary friend who protected you when you had nightmares of them coming back to beat you again, and then eventually became a real, second person inside your head.'

Triclops said nothing, but couldn't help but marvel that even as a child he'd wanted to do something and had known it had been wrong.

'Amazing...' Triclops finally muttered, and when Viro asked what was so amazing, Triclops explained, '...The power of suggestion... almost like self hypnotism... just imagining that I could defend myself and survive... and lo and behold, there is a second personality inside my head that does just that.'

Viro was quiet for a moment, before he shrugged.

'I guess...'

Triclops said nothing for a long time, but eventually, Viro continued.

'I didn't come out that much when you were still really little- even if I was vicious, those guys were at least three times bigger than us, so I had to pick my battles. But I think the biggest one came when you were auctioned off and the sleazy old Baron guy bought you- good GOD, he was just DISGUSTING... I mean, for one thing, he was OLD, for another thing, he was just... sick... Seriously, he HAD to have a few diseases, I'm amazed you didn't get any of them... He had just paid for you and already wanted to play, even in that room with all those other people watching...'

Triclops knew where this would lead to, eventually.

'You decided to correct his misconception, I would assume?' He mused, even as his other personality snickered.

'You... could say that... I fought back... gave pretty much everyone there a few bruises they aren't likely to forget. I even bit the old fart on the leg- took a big chunk out of it, too. You should remember that- as soon as they'd gotten me off him and shot me up with some tranquilizer, they slapped on a muzzle. Then, you woke up and were confused as hell, wondering what this thing over your jaw was. It was... pretty weird...'

'That reminds me- I was mostly a prisoner while I was that man's...' Pet seemed like the word he wanted to use, but Triclops utterly refused to say it, so he just skipped the word altogether, '...How did I get out? I will not believe that he willingly let me escape, unless you really were hellish to...' Keep? Restrain? Play with? Fuck? Triclops couldn't think of a good word for it, or at least not a good word that he would be willing to say.

Viro understood.

'That was my doing, again- the old man got sloppy and left a door open to the loading docks. I hid myself in the back end of the storage compartment and when it got to a different loading dock, where all the cargo freeloaders stopped to refuel and rest, I snuck out again and changed ships... Did this a few times, too, so it would be hard to trace where I came from, or where I'd gone, but eventually, I ended up on the ship that went to the Jedi Temple, instead of to another loading dock.'

'And the rest is history.' Triclops mumbled, understanding. Viro said nothing more, and Triclops was extremely grateful for the silence that allowed him to brood a little more thoroughly.

In the laboratory, the scientists had returned their work. #63696's lack of even awakening had made the superiors decide that he was no longer a threat, but the medics were still increasingly nervous.

Many of them were beginning to worry- with their lack of progress, superiors might become impatient and remove them from their posts in a much more permanent way than firing. Unfortunately, however, nothing seemed to be working. They'd even tried pumping a raw stimulant into his bloodstream and there was still no effect.

It made the doctors curious- was there some other reason this prisoner was remaining in his comatose? They'd run through every scientific possibility, and had come to the conclusion that it most definitely was not anything that science had an explanation for thus far. Was there something else they were missing?

After another year, a new Kommandant was assigned to oversee their project- a slave master from the spice mines of the Kessandra settlement. None of the doctors recognized him, but they immediately felt his presence- foreboding, domineering, and powerful.

Everyone was very quiet when he spoke, and nobody disobeyed his orders.

A/N: Done. If you review, I have only one condition- you must have a hug prepared for Triclops. He'll need it.