Chapter 4: Where Everything Is Confusing

He woke up dizzy and disoriented. Bits and pieces of dreams still clung to his mind, ghosts and wraiths made of half-forgotten things. His… sister? He wasn't sure anymore, but he thought it was a sister that he remembered holding the Force Hound back, who kept dying over and over again in his dreams. Things he had no use for, which ought to stay buried and forgotten.

Slowly, he peeled away a blanket and sat up, taking in the unfamiliar room. The walls were white and the floor had been made from some sort of wood. There were two doors—a massive durasteel one, locked shut, and another wooden one that was half-open and seemed to be leading to a bathroom. To the left of it, there was a small table and a chair, both also made of wood—darker than the floor—and to the right, a cupboard.

They must have brought him here, after-

It only came back to him slowly, like a creeping coldness—he should be dead. This time, definitely, he should be dead. He had demonstrated oh so very clearly he was a threat. After having admitting that he would be hunting the very people who had him now in their power.

He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

It happened from time to time. People snapped. People who should know better, who could have survived so much longer if they remembered to be smart, not to stand out, not to fight back against those in power.

They lashed out, and changed nothing.

And then they died.

He... kind of always thought they had more of an idea of what the hell they were doing or why, though. That it wasn't just a moment of blind panic like they were still a child and-

He punched the wall.

Pain jolted up to his elbow, sharp and bringing some clarity. Mostly, that his hand hurt, but that was a distraction and he needed to stop thinking about all of this.

He slowly uncurled his fingers. It hurt, but not bad enough to mean broken bones.

One deep breath. Then another.

He was still alive. That was something. It meant they still had some use for him. He had no idea what it might be, but it meant he was going to live a while longer.

Once he had taken stock of the room—just in case there was some convenient way of escaping from it, after all—Xesh had taken a shower in the hopes of clearing his head more. And washing sweat off, which at least was almost sure to be successful.

He also took a fresh change of clothes from the cupboard, given that he had slept in the one he had been given before the second interrogation. It was practically the same as the first one—a sort of wrap-tunic with a belt and a pair of pants, all made from undyed fabric. Wearing something so pale and light after all the years of being armoured in black and dark grey was its own share of odd.

At one point, he had heard the door open and a metallic clicking. Then the door hissed closed again, and once he went out to check he found out that someone or possibly something had left food for him—still much better than what he'd normally get to eat. There was some sort of clear broth, and some vegetables mixed with meat, and a piece of fruit. None of it seemed to be the kind of processed protein paste that most slaves in the Empire ate.

That probably meant they really still didn't intend to kill him. Otherwise, they just wouldn't have bothered. Not that he was complaining, but not being to guess what they might still want from him was making him uneasy. He was going to be unprepared when whatever unpleasantness that was awaiting him, finally showed up.

And he couldn't really even hide any of the food for later, in case this was supposed to be his only meal for the day.

He sensed a familiar presence in the Force, and a moment later the door slid open, admitting the white-skinned woman from the canyon. Her hair was still made into small braids, but they were now tied back so they weren't framing her face anymore. Her clothes were similarly cut to the ones he had been given, but dark grey with a green trim.

Xesh got up as soon as she was inside, still holding onto the fruit he'd been eating.

"Hi?" she said, surprised. She was studying him, green eyes focused on his face. He looked away as soon as he realized that. "You can sit down. And finish eating."

She gave him a rather odd look, when he did the latter. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean or what exactly he was sensing from her. Or why it mattered to him, given that there was no indication she was going to attack.

It did though.

"So... uh, feeling better?" she asked.

The question caught him wrong-footed. She could see he was not panicking, so why ask?

"Yes?" he said after a moment. He had no reason to claim otherwise—he was healthy and had just eaten. He glanced at her again then.

"Great," she said and smiled at him. That made his breath catch—partially out of surprise, but mostly because of whatever it was that had been going on in his head when she stepped between him and the man with the beard—the one who had asked him the questions that made least sense. He still couldn't- he didn't want to think of what the feeling was. "Anyway, I'm Shae Koda. You can just call me Shae. And you're Xesh, right?"

He nodded. Now he was picking up emotions from her—she was… worried about something?

"Look, before we go on—if I ask something that upsets you, tell me, okay? Then I'll stop," she continued.

And the world was back to not making sense. Unless she thought that he always lacked control like during the interrogation and was worried he'd lash out. "I'm not going to panic like that again."

"That's not what I meant," she said and took a step closer. He backed away almost without thinking and bumped into the table behind him. "Right—so you'd rather I didn't come to close?"

That might have been the case, but he hesitated before answering nonetheless. She'd know if he'd lie, but he didn't want to expose any more weakness than he already did. Eventually, he settled for something that was not exactly true, but not a lie either. "It's fine. It's just reflex."

For a moment, it looked like she'd challenge him, but then she just shook her head. "If you say so." She didn't appear to be convinced, but before he could add anything, she said, "Anyway, I thought you're going to be bored here. I brought some things for you to read," she said as she handed him a datapad, "and cards. Did you ever play any card games?"

She held up a small box with a figure in red robe painted on it.

"No," he said. It still mostly seemed utterly bizarre that she'd care at all if he was bored or not, let alone try to find something to do with him. He just couldn't think of how that would benefit her or anyone else.

"I guess I'll have to teach you some, then," she said and sat down cross-legged on the floor. He followed suit after a moment, while she took out a number of slim plastic rectangles. All of them had something painted on—symbols mostly, but a few had figures on them. She spread them out on the floor between them. "So. Each card has a value. It corresponds with the number of symbols on the card—the figures all count as a ten." She pointed to the cards with only one symbol. "The aces—these ones—count as eleven points. Each of us gets two cards, and then you can take more. The person who gets the highest number without going over twenty one wins. Anyone who gets exactly twenty one, wins automatically."

It seemed rather uncomplicated. Well, aside from the one being an eleven, but since nothing else made sense, he decided to just not think about it too much. Given his abysmal track record with having any sort of conversations lately, he was quite sure he'd end up blurting something insulting, like asking her why she bothered and that'd be the end of having any sort of company.

He watched her gather the cards and mix them with fluid practiced motions. Then, she placed two cards in front of each of them, with the side that didn't show values.

"Pick them up, but don't show me what you have. You only show them once we're checking who-" She stopped the explanation and stared at his hand. "What happened?"

He looked at it too, but there was nothing wrong with it—the scars were all where they had been before. The knuckles were red and somewhat swollen, but he had punched the wall pretty hard. It wasn't abnormal either. There simply was nothing that would give her any reason to sound so alarmed.

"Your hand," she said eventually.

"I hit the wall," he said. It earned him a look of disbelief mixed with... something else.

"Were you- Don't do that again, okay?" she said, and reached out as if intending to grab him. He managed not to move away, but she stopped anyway. For a moment, her hand was outstretched, and then she let it fall again. "Do you want some ice for that? It must hurt."

"I had worse," he said quickly. "It won't interfere with anything."

That had to be it, hadn't it? But he was holding the cards perfectly fine—she could see that. He really couldn't think of why else it would bother her so much, though.

"If you say so," she said eventually, but didn't sound at all convinced.

Shae wanted to ask a number of things, but she could sense—and see—that it would be counterproductive. He was already getting more nervous after just a few questions, and she doubted asking more would get them anywhere useful. Not yet, anyway.

She told herself to be patient, letting the frustration sink back and become something useful. It wasn't easy, since whenever she looked at how badly bruised his hand was it made her want to wince in sympathy. Why would anyone hurt themselves so badly?

But her concern only seemed to be met with confusion, like it was something that either didn't apply to him or was completely new. So, she played.

The first two games were slow, as Xesh became more familiar with the game. By the third one, he seemed to catch on, and then it went much faster. He even seemed to relax somewhat—he was still tracking her every movement, but that seemed to be more out of habit then actual mistrust.

"So, how do you like this?" she asked. For now, she figured she needed to stick to neutral subjects.

"It's easy," he said. Apparently, preferences either weren't neutral, or he really sucked at having any sort of conversation.

"And that's good or bad?" she asked and smiled trying to only project reassurance and encouragement. "Come on, I won't bite—if you don't like it, I'll teach you something else."

He still hesitated and she hadn't even expected him to try to make eye contact. "I like it." Then, after a moment, he added, "Not because it's easy."

"So, why?" Shae asked. Well, they were getting somewhere now. She wasn't sure where, but it was actually starting to look like a conversation and not an exercise of luring something very shy which had hidden inside its shell.

"It makes sense," he said, after another pause.

There was the implication that things here did not make sense. Perhaps unintentional, but now Shae thought she was starting to understand why he preferred not to give a straight answer. Which meant that she probably shouldn't ask him what didn't make sense, least they were to go back to creatures hiding in their shells.

"Card games tend to," she said instead. "They can be complicated, but if the rules are stupid, why would anyone play?"

"Because they want to make the other person feel confused or like watching them get more and more annoyed," Xesh answered.

Apparently, aside from coming from a some horrible place, he also had not been taught to recognize rhetorical questions.

"How charming," she said dryly. "I'll make sure not to play with anyone like that."

"You might not have a choice," he replied.

Well, wasn't that a lovely thought. She tried not to make a face, but it wasn't easy. She'd have said it was one of the most awkward conversations in her life, except that didn't account for the added fun of finding out little gems like this.

"What do you do here?" he asked, just when the silence was starting get really heavy.

That... was something. In fact it was a something she had not expected, but hey, at least he did know how to change the subject and how to recognize when a change of subject was needed.

"I study the Force and biology—well, genetics really," she said, before elaborating on the subject of animals. He knew what the Force was, so it's not like that was going to be terribly interesting, but everyone thought big scaly things with lots of teeth were cool, right?

There were several themes there—one was dangerous animals which sane people stayed away from. The second one was the fact that dangerous animals tended to mind being studied, or confuse people studying them with food on a regular basis.

It sounded sort of nice, despite that. Not the nearly being eaten or maimed or killed parts, since those he knew from experience were definitely to be avoided at all costs. But the part about doing something one liked, and not because there was no other choice. Or actually having a clear idea of what one liked doing, for the matter.

And then, there was the whole confusing mess that came with knowing that something might want to eat her—he wanted to ask her if he could come with her and make sure it didn't happen, but... that would be insulting. She had been doing that long before he showed up and was definitely uneaten.

And he was a prisoner, which, even in places that made no sense, generally didn't appear to involve being given a weapon and wandering about. So that was not only confusing, but also kind of stupid, and yet despite that the feeling didn't want to go away.

"How long have I been talking?" she asked suddenly. Obviously, she didn't expect an answer for that, since she got up almost immediately. "Damn, I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then, she was out in a run, the cards forgotten on the floor.

The door clicked closed, and he was alone again. For a moment, he sat still, and then he picked up her cards. He turned them over in his fingers, thinking.

It... wasn't so bad. If she was going to come back. All of that had been strange and unfamiliar, but it was like she actually thought he was worth spending time with just for the sake of it.

The Temple of Science was not just the enormous structure straddling the Chasm—the surrounding smaller buildings and pens were also part of it. Not all kinds of research could be conducted in enclosed spaces, and creating habitats within one was wasteful, when one already had a natural one outside.

One such facility was currently being used by Quan-Jang and his apprentices as an impromptu meeting place. The Master of Science watched with some amusement as his former apprentice pretended to ignore a large lizard that put its muzzle on his lap and was attempting to give him a pleading look, unhampered by the fact that its species was naturally inclined to looking perpetually angry.

Unlike Quan himself, or Shae, Daegen's interests and skills were focused on sentient minds rather than studying life. And possibly crossbreeding to find out how to get something that had sharp teeth, horns and could spit interesting things.

Shae sat down opposite to them, using another—much larger lizard—as her seat. It gave her bleary look and resumed napping, quite used to being treated in such a way.

"I'm not sure all of this is necessary," she said. "I played cards and talked about... uh... stuff."

"Even if I could overhear you through the wall, I most definitely would not care about 'uh stuff'," Daegen said as he resigned himself to placing the smaller lizard on his lap and rubbing the soft scales on its belly. It gave a content sigh. "If we are to achieve something, we need to observe him. You will do so directly, and I will focus on the Force. And, if it's necessary, I will be there to help you subdue the boy."

Shae was starting to look combative, so Quan decided to step in. As amusing as his apprentices would be when trying to out-sarcasm one another, it would be counterproductive.

"I, on the other hand, would want to know what you talked about," he said. "If nothing else, we can advise you for the future."

Shae shrugged. "He punched the wall for some reason before I came, but since it didn't seem like he'd explain why, I didn't ask. Then we talked about cards, and um... he asked me what I did. So I told him about some of the more fun species. Well, a lot about it really, since I kind of don't think talking about meditating would be all that interesting."

"Interesting or not, you should teach the boy how to do it," Daegen countered. "Even if that master of his taught him, I doubt he did it right."

"Why not you? You're an ancient venerable master person," Shae shot back.

"I'm an ancient venerable master person who bullied him when he had an occasion, while you are the nice girl who stood up for him," Daegen replied bluntly. "He'll trust you, but not me. Hence, why you're going to teach him, is it not, Master Quan-Jang?"

Quan stretched his legs out in front of himself, as he shifted to sit in a more comfortable position.

"I would not use this argument," he said. "But for now, we are going to limit the amount of people who will interact with Xesh. There might be other candidates, but they will need to earn the little trust you already have, so having you start with the basics will simply be most expedient."

Shae seemed to accept this. Then again, she was mostly reasonable and did not indulge in disputing for its own sake. "And Master Lok is an acquired taste?"

"So are you," Daegen answered. "And so is Master Quan-Jang. This is why everyone wants all of us to attend social occasions together. The fun is endless."

"Be nice, children," Quan said. "Save the sniping for others. We have a reputation to maintain."

Since some things were nearly automatic if ingrained at an early age, both Shae and Daegen said—in nearly perfect sync, too, "Yes, master Quan."

Xesh was still unsure what the Tythonians intended for him, but at least it didn't seem like they would be killing him or hurting him in the near future. Still, he didn't know for sure how long their good will would last. It was better not to jeopardize it too much—so when Shae had explained how they meditated and asked him to try, he made no objections.

Well, no, that was not entirely true. The idea of being at peace, of putting fear aside, did sound nice. And he wanted to her to come back again—what if she was offended if he disagreed?

So, dutifully, he tried doing just as she explained.

Meditating was both easier and harder than he thought it would be. Xesh sat cross-legged on the floor, and closed his eyes. First, came trying to feel his body, which was actually not as stupid as it had initially sounded. Then, breathing: just noticing it was happening, until his mind started wandering. That part was actually pleasant. Relaxing. And once he reached this point, he could move to the next part.

Sensing others was uncomplicated enough—it was something he would do when accompanying his former master anyway. Looking for potential danger, hostility or even a spark of Force sensitivity where there should be none.

The rakata could not do this on their own.

He opened his eyes and looked at the wall, not really seeing it at all, as he realized just what he had thought a moment ago. Why? It seemed an obvious question. Why couldn't they?

Everyone was connected through the Force. Everything. To sense others, all you had to do was open yourself to the Force and feel. It was one of the fundamental skills. Something you mastered early on and moved on to more complicated things. Like meditating, it turned out.

Which he was supposed to be doing, instead of getting side-tracked by questions without answers, he told himself.

He closed his eyes again, and tried to go against years of habit—to just feel everything, instead of trying to sense thoughts of violence, the intent to kill. There was surprisingly little of those in this place, anyway. It ought to have made things easier, but instead he kept focusing on some animal on the hunt, most of the time.

Or the Empire. It was out there, like an oil-spill in the ocean, suffocating all that was within.

He hadn't really noticed that earlier either. Maybe it was because he was outside of it now? He only noticed how terrible it felt once he wasn't in it anymore and could sense something different. It seemed like a logical explanation, at least.

But he was reaching out too far again, focusing on one thing instead of sensing all that was around him.

He breathed out slowly and tried one more time. First, just the room he was in—the faint echoes of his own emotions and those of Shae's presence. Then, further out—alien minds that felt like tranquil pools instead of storms or fire.

It was as far as he got though. His attention slipped, as soon as he felt a flare of irritation. Normally, he'd have barely registered it, but it stood out so very starkly during the brief moment it lasted against all those calm minds, it broke his concentration.

Old instincts kicked in and he tensed, ready to lash out.

He opened his eyes and let out a growl of frustration. It just wouldn't work, no matter how much he tried.

Still. At least, he had something to do. After all, he had nothing better to do than practice.

AN: This time around, I don't think there are any changes that aren't a result of what has already happened. However, if you noticed something that you'd like to explain, I'll gladly answer any questions.