Chapter 7: Cabin Fever

In her mind, Visas walked the ashes of Katarr for the thousandth time.

There was never anyone here... at least, not anyone intact. She could feel the death around her, sometimes still sense a fleeting warmth in the remains that littered the planet.

This time, though, there was something strong. It felt almost Miraluka, almost familiar... but off. Wrong. There was something missing in its presence that made it feel less alive than even the ossified limbs on the ground.

Visas followed the sensation until she perceived a tall being, clothed from the waist down in singed fabric and scarred from the waist up, slash marks crossing his chest in a supernatural injury, the possible origins of which escaped Visas... the marks seemed to ooze a dark energy, though they were closed...

"Visas Marr," he said, and Visas stood straighter, ready to fight if necessary.

"I'm listening."

"I'm not going to fight you, Visas Marr."

"Then why have you come?"

"You sense the darkness that comes from me, Visas Marr. You do not trust me."

"Should I?"

"This is your fate, Visas Marr, should you not." He gestured to his wounds.

"I do not understand."

"Understand this: Your ship is headed for a disease that will make your blood run black in your veins, that will corrupt your mind and body until the end, and you, Visas Marr, will find within yourself a darkness deeper than you thought was possible."

"And... why are you telling me this?"

The being looked up at the smoke-blackened sky. "I am not telling you, Miraluka." He faced her straight on. "I am commanding you."

"You... are commanding me to... find this darkness?"

"Yes."

"I do not--"

"Understanding will come in time. Patience, Visas Marr. I will return."

The being turned and left.

Visas snapped into reality, faster than usual, and her head spun for a moment. As it cleared, she stood, uneasy, and left the room.

She passed Bao-Dur, who looked up, acknowledging Visas with a nod.

They see through you.

Visas stopped. Bao-Dur stopped his work and stepped toward her.

They see the darkness within you.

Visas stepped away.

He'll never trust you.

"Visas? Is everything all right?"

"My..."

Visas breathed deeply before continuing. "I'm fine. My head aches. I..."

She found herself unable to mention the vision, and turned to walk back to the quarters, where she had been meditating in the first place. As she stepped, she tripped, and Bao-Dur rushed to her side, taking her arm.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Perhaps you should speak with Mical."

She snatched her arm away. "I'm fine."

Bao-Dur stepped back and nodded.

Visas walked away.

"Best three outta five," Atton said, clearly dissatisfied.

Mira grinned. "Sorry, Atton, you're outta luck."

"Best. Three. Out-"

"Atton, it's nothing. It's ten credits. Just give it."

"It's not just ten credits! It's a matter of pride!"

"Atton, we're the only ones in the room."

Atton sighed and covered his eyes with his hand as he slid the credits over to Mira.

"Chill out, Atton."

"It's just so dull right now."

"Cabin fever?"

"You don't know the half of it."

The noise of footsteps caught Atton's and Mira's attention, and they turned to see Mical rifling through supplies. At their silence, Mical turned to them and smiled.

"Hey, Mical."

"Mira," Mical said, nodding, "Atton."

Atton's eyes narrowed, and he nodded sharply in Mical's direction. The silence increased in tension as Mical searched the rations. Mira rolled her eyes.

"I'll be out of the way in just a moment," Mical said, "don't mind me."

"I try," Atton said. Mical stopped for a moment, but thought better of retaliating and instead pulled an item out of the ration container.

"Right," Mical said, again turning to smile at both Mira and Atton, this time more tentatively. "See you both later, then."

"Till then, doc," Mira said before whipping around to Atton. "Could you just grow up already?"

"Hey, I--"

"Atton, there is no way you can possibly defend bullying Mical around."

"I--"

"Rationally defend bullying Mical around."

"We've been on this ship forever! Even when we dock, we don't get to leave for anything more than supplies, and that's basically just her and Bao-Dur or Bao-Dur and Mical or something. That doesn't bug you at all?"

Mira shrugged. "You know me. I'd probably botch the whole supply deal, wander into a cantina, get in a fight with some deadly Twi'lek bounty hunters in an attempt to hit on something so that I wasn't so bored. Oh, wait, that's not me."

"Hey, I took those two out without any trouble, thank you very much. And you weren't even there!"

"Whatever. It's not like you actually killed them or anything."

"It's also not like it happens on a regular basis!"

"And see, that's because we keep you on the ship now."

"You can't prove that if you never let me out!"

"I think that's kind of the idea, Atton."

A sigh came from behind them, and they turned to see Bao-Dur.

"Atton, aren't you supposed to be piloting?"

"It's on auto. We're fine for another hour or something, at least."

Bao-Dur nodded slowly. "Mmhmm."

Mira suppressed a grin. Atton began shuffling the cards again.

"Atton."

Atton looked up at the Zabrak.

"You need to fly the ship, Atton."

Atton sighed and passed the deck to Mira, then stood and left. Bao-Dur took the now-empty seat across from Mira.

"Deal me in?"

"Never pegged you as the Pazaak-playing type, Bao."

"I have my moments."

Mira handed him the deck, and he shuffled effortlessly.

Three games later, Mira had lost the money she had won from Atton, and then some.

"You're not a Jedi," Mira said. "You are a vicious, vicious creature."

Bao-Dur smiled. "And you have lost enough credits for today." He handed the deck back to Mira.

"Yeah, looks like the games are gonna have to have more... creative stakes from now on."

Bao-Dur raised an eyebrow. Mira sighed, exasperated.

"I was not thinking of Nar Shaddaa rules," she said. "You're sick."

"I didn't say a word. I don't even see what the point is of wagering anything at this point. Where we're going, we're going to have to pool our assets, anyway."

Mira shrugged. "Then it's not like we're losing anything. Credits aren't gonna be any good, anyway."

"Until we get back."

Mira gave him a skeptical look. "If we get back," she said, "then I will worry about conning you out of my credits."

Bao-Dur half-smiled. "Thanks for the warning."

He took the credits off of the table and counted them to himself.

"Bao-Dur?"

Bao-Dur looked up, still counting. "Mira?"

"Do you think we're ever gonna get back here?"

Bao-Dur leaned back in his seat. "I'd like to. The odds have certainly been stacked against us in the past. By all accounts, you should be a trophy on that Wookiee's wall, and I should have been eaten by one of those beasts on Malachor. And yet, here we are."

"But that was mostly thanks to the Force, right? Does the Force... does it even work outside the galaxy? In the same way?"

Bao-Dur thought. "The Force binds us all, so long as it exists. It is, essentially, neutral, balanced, and I can't think of another way that it would be."

"Could it... could it be tainted, somehow? Given that these are Sith regions or whatever that we're going to?"

Bao-Dur smiled and shook his head. "Honestly, Mira, I couldn't say. When we get there, maybe... but that remains to be seen."

He took her hand and held it, palm-up, over the table, placing the credits he had been counting in her hand. She looked up at him, puzzled.

"We're making one more stop before we hit the Sith regions. You'll probably want this when you and Mical go planetside."

Mira smiled. "You're just worried about what I'd do to get it out of you later."

"Con games aren't really my strong suit."

"And gratitude isn't really mine, but... thanks."

Bao-Dur left.

I'm gonna need a rigged pazaak deck if I ever want to stand a chance against him again, anyway...

Atton felt distinctly friendless.

Granted, he had been difficult all through the journey, particularly today, and yes, he was being entirely irrational about most things, but that...

Actually, he couldn't really think of a way to rationalize more than about an eighth of that.

"Salutation: Greetings, meatbag! I am here to serve!"

Atton grimaced.

"Really."

"Correction: By 'serve,' I mean 'assist in a way that will keep me occupied enough not to have to provoke the wrath of other meatbags by taking apart their weapons and then putting them back together in alternative designs.'"

"Yeah, you're getting pretty bored too, huh?"

"Correction: I am, in fact, a droid, and therefore incapable of feeling any such sensation."

Atton shook his head. "Yeah, right."

Beeps and whistles alerted Atton to the presence of T3-M4, and Atton leaned back in his seat with a groan.

"Hey," he said, "you guys wanna pilot? That should keep you busy, yeah?"

T3-M4 whistled what sounded to Atton like an affirmative.

"That a yes?"

Atton held out the course charts, inciting more beeping.

"Interpretation: The astromech has now used several different synonyms of the word 'lazy' to describe you, and firmly believes that you know what you can do with your course charts."

Atton leaned his head against the wall. "You don't even know how much I don't need this right now."

"Addendum: I, however, would be glad to do your job, meatbag. Fewer things fill me with more satisfaction than doing a meatbag's job with greater efficiency than the meatbag himself possibly can."

"Great. You guys just start plugging away on that, then. I've got to go do something else. Anything else."

Atton left and walked down the hallway until he reached the medbay, where Alainna was covered in electrodes and Mical was reading and rereading vital signs.

"Hey, um..."

Mical looked up. "Oh, hello, Atton. Can I help you?"

"I just... can I stick around? For moral support? I promise I won't... get in the way."

Mical looked to Alainna, who nodded.

"Of course," Mical said. He returned to checking and recording. "You might have to hang around in the doorway; it's not exactly the largest room on the Hawk, which doesn't exactly give it much in the way of size."

Atton shrugged.

Alainna closed her eyes, trying to relax. "What's on your mind, Atton?"

"Too much, none of it very uplifting."

Alainna smiled. "You must be pretty sick of this ship by now."

"Well, I don't mean to complain..."

Mical rolled his eyes, but Atton missed the gesture.

"All right," Mical said, "you're done for today."

"Thanks, Mical." Alainna stood, removing the electrodes from her skin and pulling her robe on over the black bodysuit that she wore to protect the rest of the crew. "Walk with me, Atton."

The two of them walked to the cockpit in silence.

"HK, T3, you're relieved," Alainna said. T3-M4 whistled and sped away.

"Protestation: But, master, we have only just begun to get reacquainted with the ship!"

"Oh yeah? Did you find anything interesting?"

"Tentative Response: Not particularly, master, except for the historical documents..."

"The map to the Star Forge is not only not a new thing, but also entirely obsolete, as it's been entirely destroyed. You must be bored."

"Correction: As a droid--"

"Out."

HK-47 left. Alainna sat in the pilot's seat and scanned all the dials before turning back to Atton.

"Talk to me."

Atton furrowed his brow. "I don't know. I guess I'm... I mean, why do I not get to go buy things at the docks?"

"Because you're the only one who can make a quick getaway if we need it. I need you here for that."

This made Atton feel better, but failed to relieve his boredom and much of his irritability.

"Atton, we only have one more stop before we reach the Sith, and then, I assure you, we will not be lacking for action."

"Hey, since when can you get into my head that effectively?"

Alainna smirked. "You're easier to read sometimes. Can you please calm down now?"

Atton sighed, Alainna's presence soothing him. "It's been a slow day."

A scream echoed from the quarters. Alainna blanched, and she jumped up. "Get the droids back on piloting and then come back here."

She ran.