Blown Fuse

Part II

Why don't you have wings to fly with

Like the swallow so proud and free

"I told you to be friends with him, not start a fight. Seriously. What were you thinking?!"

Morap bit on his lip to hold back a retort. Shut up, you're not my father! That was exactly what he wanted to say to his brother, but he couldn't. The phrase itself was too painful. The word father alone was too much to take. He flinched every time he heard it. The wound, his father's death had left, was still too fresh and the worst part was, that it should not even be there. But it was. And that had brought him into this situation. On this transport back home.

"You do realize that our situation was bad enough as it was before you flipped, but now I stand next to no chance in advancing in the Order. Thanks to you!" Meelan was furious and not just with Morap. Meelan was angry at his brother, his father and the whole universe in general.

The worst part was probably, that Morap didn't even care. Not really anyway. He didn't even know how he felt about being sent home. About being expelled. About not knowing how to live out the rest of his life. At least, he thouorcedght, he was too old to be asked to serve as a Stormtrooper now.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Morap shrugged and looked out of the window. He wouldn't even have cared if this speeder was flown by a person who would be able to follow Meelan's ranting. They were very close to their home now. Their mother had been alerted to their arrival and Morap had no idea how he felt about seeing her again either. Nora Feedo Bendar was the daughter of one of Emperor Palpatine's bodyguards. She had fallen madly in love with Captain Aarkis Bendar when she was very young, but their rather spontaneous marriage had only been a happy one for as long as the Empire flourished. After the Battle of Endor, they had fled to the Unknown Regions with their sons and Aarkis had joined the First Order but had never been more than a Commander in the Corps of Engineers, which had only frustrated his wife. Morap and Meelan had often seen their parents fight over their father's apparent lack of ambition. Nora and Aarkis had only ever fought about that. Ambition. Not Devotion...

Now the unthinkable had happened. Adding to everything their father had done, Morap had gotten himself expelled from the Academy shortly afterwards and Meelan was suspended for a week. Chancellor Hux had told them that they could call themselves lucky that they got off so easily.

Morap scoffed. He still felt his brother's eyes on him, but he just couldn't return the other's gaze. He knew he had gotten his brother into this situation, but feeling sorry about it was completely out of the question.

Captain Wendol Hux' sneered at him, his green eyes twinkling with a malice which made Morap's insides burn with a hitherto unknown rage.

"I'm just saying, Lieutenant," Hux said the last word with a snarling grin on his face. They were supposed to call each other by their ranks, but Hux used it as an insult. "If your father is a traitor, you're most likely one as well, aren't you? I mean you have no ambition, just like him apparently."

Morap turned his back to Hux, even though he knew that this was probably the biggest mistake he could possibly make. He just couldn't stand looking his classmate in the eye. He couldn't stand looking anyone in the eye for that matter. Not anymore. "Shut up...", he said under his breath. They were standing in the courtyard, surrounded by the other boys in his class and Morap could see his brother approaching with a worried look on his face. To see any trace of emotion on his brother's face was so unusual that Morap couldn't help but stare at him.

"What did you just say to me, Lieutenant? And how dare you turn your back on me when I'm talking to you?"

Meelan was drawing nearer now, pushed some of the boys aside and Morap could see nothing but his brother, could hear nothing but Hux' words ringing in his ears and felt his muscles tense.

"I said-", he began and turned around slowly so he didn't have to look at Meelan anymore, who was only feet away now, "SHUT UP!" He clenched his shaking fists and stood there, facing Hux, the Chancellor's son, his superior in rank, and knew that what he was doing here would get him into serious trouble. He couldn't care less. "How dare you insult my father-" He broke off, knowing fully well that he was risking his neck.

"Your father was a dirty turncoat-"

"Morap-" He heard his brother's voice but didn't listen. All he could think about was Hux and how good it would feel to hurt him. To wipe that smug smile off that loathsome face. Within a second he was on top of Hux, tackling him to the ground. He heard an intake of breath from the surrounding boys, saw Hux' eyes widen in shock and felt his fists connect with that disgusting rat's face. Punching every part of Hux he could reach, he was oblivious to everything around him and when someone pulled him off Hux he knew that it wasn't his brother. Meelan was standing somewhere to his right. Unmoving. As detached as ever.

Hux got to his feet and Morap could see the look of utter humiliation on the other's face. That was even more satisfying than watching the blood trickle out of the corner of Hux' mouth. "You'll pay for this..." Hux said quietly. Morap saw the way his fellow classmates were looking at him and he didn't mind. Hux had lost this fight. For once Hux had lost. For once Captain Wendol Hux felt almost as humiliated as Morap had done these last couple of weeks.

Not being allowed to talk about it to his classmates, or his brother. Not being allowed to feel. Not being allowed to grieve, or to think made him feel like he was drowning in desperation. He had to pay close attention to how he behaved even more than usual, had to ignore his classmates' whispers and open hostility and pretend like he hated his father for what he had done.

Only that he didn't. He didn't hate his father and couldn't bring himself to do so. He loved his father despite everything and with every passing day he felt something he couldn't quite place growing inside of him. A roaring creature just waiting to strike out at the first person offering himself up to take the blame for all of this. For the sobs he had to swallow before they could emerge when he was lying in bed. For the tears constantly stinging in his eyes whenever he hear the word father. For sensing that his world was falling apart and that there was nothing at all he could do about it. Hux had been his victim. It could have been everyone, but with his usual instinct of tempting fate he had broken one of Wendol Hux' teeth in front of everyone. The Chancellor's son. The consequences had been harsh and prompt.

Only that Morap didn't care about any of this. He only wanted to go back home. To see his mother and be allowed to talk to her. She was bound to be just as devastated as he was.

When the speeder landed in front of the semi detached house, his mother opened the front door and stepped outside. Meelan threw a vicious look at him and got out first, his bag in hand. Morap followed suit, his knees shaking. Finally he'd be able to ask questions. To ask about what had happened and what his mother thought about all of this. Morap had been sure at first that his father was bound to have done something wrong, but now he felt this had come too sudden. It felt out of place and he hated to admit it even to himself, but Morap couldn't shake the notion that the Order might have been too quick in sentencing his father.

Morap grabbed his own bag and got out of the speeder, which lifted off the ground as soon as he had left it. Meelan was standing in front of their mother, her hands on his shoulders and they were talking quietly to each other. Morap couldn't hear a word they were saying. Nora was looking at her eldest son with something like disappointment on her face and for a moment she looked just like Meelan with her dark brown eyes staring earnestly into her son's and her brow slightly furrowed.

Hesitantly Morap approached his only living relatives. The only people who still cared about how he felt, or so he thought. Nora let go of Meelan and looked him up and down, her face utterly expressionless at the sight of him. "Mother...", he said quietly, but Nora shook her head.

"I do not want to hear it", she said quietly and Morap stared at her with an open mouth. She was returning his look with her lips tightly pressed together. She was furious at him, he realized with a sinking feeling. He had never seen her like this. Never! Only when she was angry with his father. He could see Meelan forcing himself not to say anything.

"But-" Morap began and before he could fully grasp what was happening, his mother had raised her hand and slapped him so hard in the face, that he crashed to the ground and felt his nose connect with the duroconcrete of their driveway. A violent pain shot up his nose and before he fully realized what had happened he felt something hot pour out of his nostrils and tears stinging in his eyes. He couldn't say anything, only felt the weight of the heavy bag on his side and the pain emanating from the centre of his face. He blinked and saw his mother's feet head for the house.

Breathing through his mouth and tasting his own blood, hot and disgusting on his tongue he sat up and the next moment he saw Meelan's concerned face close to his own. "Are you alright?"

Morap flinched when he felt Meelan's hand on his forehead and his brother's dark brown eyes widen in shock as he withdrew his hand and saw blood on it. Morap shook his head slightly and sat up again. Immediately Meelan's arm was around his shoulders. If Meelan was angry with him, then he didn't appear to be willing to show it at the moment. Morap knew he'd have to face his brother sooner rather than later, but at the moment he was too overwhelmed by what his mother had done to be able to think about Meelan's change of attitude. He wiped his mouth with his uniform sleeve, fully aware that he had no use of that piece of clothing anymore anyway, and winced when he accidentally touched his nose. Meelan's arm were warm around his shoulders and he could feel his brother's breath in his hair.

"I'm okay..." Morap said, his eyes watering. His mother had never hit him.. She had been angry with him before, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced and being thrown to the ground by the very same person he had hoped to share his misery with was beyond endurance. Had he seen hatred in her eyes? He couldn't be sure but shuddered at the very thought of entering his family home.

"You have to be careful," Meelan whispered and Morap looked up at him, stemming the flow of blood with his sleeve as best he could and ruining it forever in the process.

"What? Why? I was expelled from the Academy, in case you forgot." He could barely understand a word he was saying himself with the fabric over his mouth and nose. His head was pounding and he felt like his nose would fall off any moment. He just kept staring at his brother who was as serious as Morap had never seen him in his life.

Meelan shook his head and threw a look at the open front door. Their mother would surely be waiting inside for them and Morap didn't even want to think about what would happen next. Not at all. Meelan looked back at him, his eyes calm but penetrating him as if he was trying to tell him something without speaking. But Morap had no idea what his brother was trying to tell him.

"What?!", he asked, feeling the anger rise up inside him once more. "What's wrong with h-"

"Don't be an idiot!" Meelan snapped quietly and Morap fell silent immediately. He wasn't used to fighting back against his older brother or anyone really for that matter. Hux had been an exception. "Who do you think alerted the authorities, Morap?"

"I don't-" he trailed off and felt his eyes widen in comprehension. He looked at the house in the middle of a street inhabited by engineers and their families. On a planet in control of the First Order. In a galaxy in which the Order was doing everything it could to return to former glory. And his mother had always been a passionate citizen of the Order. Passionate about the cause. Passionate about the Order and everything it stood for. Morap's memory of her shouting at his father about his lack of ambition was triggered when he saw her standing in the doorway again. When he heard her tell her sons to come inside already. She left.

Morap looked at Meelan who nodded. "Be careful. Don't lash out at her." He helped Morap get to his feet, who staggered and would have fallen over had Meelan not held him upright. He felt dazed, like is body was in an entirely different place. Like his mind was not connected to his limbs, to his head...

His mother had betrayed his father? Why? He knew the answer and it made his insides clench. They hadn't really gotten along. Never. But that was no reason to... Morap stumbled over his own thoughts.

Nora Feedo Bendar was loyal to the Order and when she had discovered what her husband had done, she in turn had done the only thing she could do! She had done damage control! That, at least, was what he was supposed to be thinking. That his mother had done the right thing. Only that it didn't feel right.

"I think your nose is broken."

"You don't say," scoffed Morap spluttering blood down his front. This was not a good start. Not at all. "But... she..." he stared at Meelan again who only shook his head. Of course Meelan was thinking what was expected of him and this revelation about the people he called family hit him hard. Morap felt like he was going to fall over again. "He was her husband..." He couldn't keep himself from saying it out loud. From trying to wrap his head around the fact that he alone seemed to sense that all of this was wrong! He alone thought that betraying one's husband, or brother was completely out of the question. What was wrong with him?!

"Don't talk about it anymore," Meelan whispered quietly, suddenly sounding angry himself. "Don't let anyone hear any of this. Stop thinking like this!"

Stop thinking like this. And how was he supposed to do that? To stop thinking? His mind was racing as Meelan picked up both their bags and gently pushed him towards the front door. He couldn't turn off his brain! He couldn't keep himself from looking at the small house he had spent his childhood in, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He could still taste the blood. He still felt the throbbing pain in his nose and temple. Most of all he felt the anguish at staying here in this house indefinitely with her.

He had looked forward to coming home in a way. Had been relieved to be somewhere where he would be allowed to be who he really was and not who the First Order was forcing him to be. Morap felt a slight pat on his shoulder. Meelan... Meelan didn't feel this way, he was sure. Not at all. It made Morap feel even more out of place than he did already.

From the corner of his eye he saw the little droid his father had built sitting in the corner. Aarkis Bendar had taken Morap with him into his workshop and shown him how he had modified the droid to help him with his work. The sight made Morap tear up again, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the droid, which appeared to be in sleep mode. Aarkis had told Morap that he was going to paint the droid in orange and white, an unusual colour combination, as far as Morap was concerned, but his father had never been an ordinary person. That must have been the problem. The droid still had next to no paint on it. Just the head was painted white.

"Go and wash your face before dinner." All of a sudden his mother was standing in front of him again, her face expressionless and her green eyes dispassionate. Morap couldn't remember ever seeing her like this... or perhaps he had never looked at her with a sense of desperation, distrust and fear.

He nodded quietly and headed off for the communal bathroom on the ground floor. The tiles were as white and shiny as ever. His mother sent the cleaning droids through the house each and every day, keeping it spotless. Only now, for the first time in his life, did Morap realize that the whole place had a sense of emptiness about it, which oddly resonated within his very being. He avoided looking at his own reflection in the mirror and heard his mother and Meelan talking softly in the kitchen next door. After having washed his face as best he could without touching his nose he slipped out the bathroom as quietly as he could and moved towards the stairs.

"They searched the entire house," he heard his mother say to his brother and clenched his fists. He didn't want to hear this. Not her words. Not her voice which told him that she didn't care about her husband. Not really. But he still stayed put. Listening. "They couldn't find anything of importance in his workshop, though. I believe they found all the evidence they needed in his office."

Morap swallowed hard and went on up the stairs to his small bedroom. He had to change at least. He was not going to approach his mother all soaked in blood. It would only aggravate her further. Morap opened the closet and took a quick look at the few items of clothing he possessed. A couple of unicoloured jumpers and two pairs of trousers. The ones he was wearing now looked perfectly alright. He just needed to change out of his uniform jacket then. His nose, gratefully, wasn't bleeding anymore, but he didn't dare touch it in case the bleeding started up again. The throbbing pain kept reminding him of what had happened. He remembered it. He still felt it, but he coulnd't believe it. Everything was happening too fast. Everything was falling apart so quickly and he had no chance of keeping up. He felt like he himself was falling without being able to hold on to something. Anything.

Stop thinking like this.

But he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking and he couldn't stop wrecking his brain about the fact that his world seemed to have shifted and all of a sudden he didn't seem to understand anything anymore.

With trembling fingers he opened the soaked uniform jacket. Downstairs he heard the clattering of plates. He should be helping his mother and brother, he knew, but he couldn't. He couldn't stand the idea of looking them in the eye again. As he took out one of his maroon jumpers he felt something clatter to the floor. Morap blinked and looked down at the circular object now lying at his feet. Slowly he bent down to pick it up and he felt like his head would burst from this tiny effort. A tiny holo projector. Morap gulped, understanding what this must be. He looked at the door again, which was slightly ajar, moved over to it and closed it, his heart drumming wildly in his chest. After closing the door as quietly as he could he sat down on the floor, the holo projector cool in his hands. He breathed heavily and took a look at the room around him. It had a strangely abandoned feel about it. Of course it did. The books he had read as a child were gone now, had been handed down to another generation as soon as he entered the Academy. This room was his, yet it didn't feel like it. Somehow it was too clean, like the dormitory at the Academy. But it felt familiar in a sense too. He didn't know anything else after all and looking at, whatever it was that this holo projector was waiting to show him, might very well shatter even more of his world.

His thumb didn't feel like it belonged to him as he pushed the button. This was a message from his father, he was sure of it. Or it was something, some instructions for staying alive in the Order... Morap didn't know, he only understood that he might very well not grow very old in his current surroundings. The projector came to life with a slight humming and Morap felt his heart contract in agony as he saw a tiny projection of his father. Tall and strong as ever. His hair in slight disarray, the curls fighting their way out of the layer of pomade. Morap gulped, tried to keep breathing normally. A recording... a message from his father!

"Morap," Aarkis Bendar said and the voice, which was so well known to Morap, seemed to ring in his ears. His name. His name, coming from the father's lips, was the introduction to the last words he'd ever hear from him. Morap pressed his lips tightly together, denying them the chance to let out the whimper that was building up inside of him. But he couldn't breathe...not through his nose anyway. He quickly took a couple of breaths through his mouth as he looked into his father's eyes.

Aarkis was smiling. "I know that, if this reaches you, I may not be alive anymore. I hope that you get this message and that your mother didn't look through your closet and found it. I'm sorry to say it, but I can't trust her anymore. So much has happened... it is hard to put it into words and I don't have a lot of time."

His heart rate was increasing now and he felt every bone in his body ache for something he could never have again. A hug. A kind word. This was neither. This was a message from his father confirming what Meelan had told Morap.

"If you ever need help, if you ever feel like you need to get away from here and if you feel like your brother does too, leave. I never wanted this for you. Any of this. That's why I made a deal. I need you to go Corellia. There you have to find Wedge Antilles. He will help you. Both of you. I'm sorry for what I'm putting you through. I'm sorry for not being there for you. I wanted to take you and Meelan away from here. To live in a better place. I'm sorry I can't..." Aarkis, his thin lips suddenly trembling, held up his right hand. His hands had been able to create and invent so many wonderful things... Morap hadn't inherited this trait, he was clumsy and positively inept when it came to building things. He regretted not having asked his father more about construction in general. He regretted not being able to spend more time with him and most of all he regretted not being able to answer his father. The projection vanished.

Just like this. Just like the real Aarkis had vanished from his life. In an instant. Without a word of farewell.

"Morap, come down to dinner!" Meelan's voice.

It made Morap shake with something he couldn't explain.

It took Morap three days to decide. Three days in which he felt like he was being watched constantly and he knew that he must be. Not only by Meelan, who was most likely watching out for him, but also by his mother. I can't trust her anymore, his father had said in that message, which Morap now kept hidden beneath his thin mattress. I can't trust her anymore.

Morap knew exactly what his father had meant. It wasn't that he didn't occasionally feel like his mother didn't care about him anymore, not at all, she had even set his nose and apologized, in her own miserable way, but Morap felt like something between them had shattered. Something which could never be repaired again.

Meelan, he knew, was still fixed on rising in the First Order and Morap was sure that his brother would make it someday. That Meelan Bendar would make a great officer. He was sure, that Meelan could not be trusted with their father's message. He would hand it in and then Morap would never be able to look at is father's face ever again. That was something he couldn't risk.

During dinner on his last night he managed not to let anything show. He tried and for the first time in his life he succeeded. He knew that he was a lousy actor, but neither Meelan, nor Nora seemed to suspect anything. Morap didn't even look at them when he went up to his bedroom long before they did. He went to bed, still fully dressed, and waited.

Occasionally his father had been sent to oversee repairs on damaged ships, often on short notice, and for that he had been provided with a small but fast ship capable of light speed. The ship hadn't been confiscated yet and now it would be Morap's means of getting away. Away from all of this. He still couldn't quite believe that he was going to do it. When he thought about the coming hours he felt like he was going to be sick.

Outside his door he heard his brother's footsteps and for a moment Morap wondered whether he should tell his brother about where he was going after all. About what he had to do. The Order didn't need him. His mother didn't want him... but Meelan? Morap wasn't sure... Meelan was going to be furious.

No... Morap couldn't tell Meelan any of this and most of all he couldn't ask his brother to come along. He himself had no idea where he was headed. Corellia would be his destination of course, but what would happen to him once he got there?

Meelan wouldn't help him. He'd try to stop him. He'd ruin Morap's only chance of getting away from this place where he didn't belong.

The door to Meelan's room closed and Morap didn't dare shut his eyes in case he fell asleep. Instead he stared at the ceiling and started counting. Once he was sure that both his mother and Meelan had to be asleep he crept out of bed. He didn't hesitate for a moment, slipped out of his room as quietly as he could and went down the stairs. And then he stopped. The droid... the last thing his father had ever built and his mother had no use for it. No use for the droid which hadn't even been painted yet. Maybe this was something he could use after all. Quietly he stepped towards the droid sitting beneath his mother's jackets and scarves and activated it.

The spherical droid came to life almost instantly, it's lights flashing and a low humming noise coming from the hidden speakers. Morap put a finger to his lips and stared at the droid, willing it to shut up. It did. This felt right somehow. This way he'd have something of his father's with him.

"Hey, Beebee-Ate, right?", he asked and made a quiet shushing noise to stop the droid from saying anything else in Binary. "I'm Morap. Do you want to come with me? I'm leaving this place and my... my father is sending me somewhere and I could use some help."

The droid turned its head around once, this time without uttering a single sound. It had understood everything Morap had said! And it even adjusted to what was appropriate to the situation. This astromech actually might come in handy. Morap felt his spirits lift. He might leave his brother behind, but at least he wouldn't be without a companion.