Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Truth

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It took him a disgusting amount of time to figure out what those sick wafthas had done to him.

Those—! But he couldn't curse them the way he wanted to, because they had done something so depraved to his mind that he could never recover, never adjust or fight his way out.

//"Promise me you'll watch out for them, Devnos. Be strong."//

They had destroyed him, and rendered his promise to his father – even his love for his family – to something laughable.

So he was forced to watch it all. He watched his corruption, and fought against the tide of his fury and helplessness, only to find false sanctuary in the Dark side.

He watched Sanar give up on him, hate him.

Watched Clayra begin to fear him.

Watched as his mother sensed a "kryntath" in her son, and begin to bow to his wishes.

Watched.

As he became a monster from his nightmares.

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Lowbacca enjoyed his work with the Hapes Research Team. While true that sometimes the humans searched for more complicated answers than the ones they had found, Lowie's family had always been close to humans, and he was used to such pursuit. Humans would always search for complications. And it was true that sometimes the work could be disheartening, particularly when the answers could not be discovered until after they were required.

But he had found his niche in figuring out something predictable, something that wouldn't change with time and death and war. There would always be problems to solve – riddles to explain. Sometimes he was able to do that on a computer, his favourite time, but Lowie was flexible. Challenges were enjoyed in all their venues.

When the riddle struck deep in the heart of a friend, however, Lowie took no time to revel in the mysteries that surrounded him. The request of explanation not only came at the behest of a friend, but from Jaina Solo – someone Lowbacca had sensed passing into the next plane of existence.

And there was always the matter of honour, with his uncle's life debt to Han Solo. Although Chewbacca had been the one to make the promise, all of his family kept a closer eye on the Solo family than was necessary. When Lowie had met the Solo twins, he had not known exactly what to expect, but he found friends. Time and war had tested those bonds severely – not just with the Solos, but with Tenel Ka, Lusa, and even Raynar, before his death. Events of the past six years' nature changed any being, but humans morphed in a particularly obvious way.

Lowbacca watched it all – Tenel Ka's struggle to find a balance between her calling and her own desires, Jaina's stubborn refusal to give up on Zekk, Jacen's quest for answers, Lusa's loss of self. Many times, he had found himself surprised as the humans (and half-humans) reached new levels of desires for complex things.

He had never let go of his affection and loyalty to them, however, nor them in regards to him.

That didn't mean he wasn't bemused by this microchip, or by Jaina Solo's connection to a captive Dark Jedi and his sister. It wasn't, of course, of any matter. She cared, and that was persuasive enough.

"Any luck?" a humanoid tech asked, breaking into Lowbacca's concentration on the wiring of the salvaged chip.

Artificial Intelligence, Lowbacca grunted. Not meant for simple use, though. It was designed for a specific purpose.

Frowning in concentration, the tech managed to understand the Wookiee's words. "AI? What, to increase the guy's intelligence, maybe?"

Lowbacca shook his shaggy head. No. Different. He pulled a few wires aside, then tapped down a microscope over his right eye, studying what the parted wires revealed. It appears to be a control device.

"Mind-control?" The tech's voice raised in pitch. "We're dealing with mind-control?"

I am not yet certain, but the AI appears to be designed to monitor thought, movement and speech in particular.

"Imperial design?" the humanoid asked nervously. Lowbacca wondered if the human had had too much caffeine.

No. I have not seen this style before, but it is too bulky for Imperials. Lowbacca searched for the proper explanation. The Empire likes smooth, efficient.

The tech had been joined by another scientist, an Ithorian, who now spoke. "Any idea of where it might be from?"

Lowbacca eyed the chip with curiosity before barking, It isn't from a planet that has shared information – or been spied upon – by the New Republic. What is this human's planet?

The tech, jittery, and anxious to get away from the idea of mind-control, offered, "I'll go check his profile."

If it isn't there, ask Jaina Solo or Sanar Klis, Lowbacca growled.

"Until we have the origins, try to nail down the specifics," the Ithorian told Lowbacca in its calm voice. "This man doesn't have long to live, and I'm sure his sister would like some closure on his motives before…" She checked her data-board, "Mr. Klis meets his untimely demise."

Barking quietly in acknowledgement, Lowbacca set back to work.

Why would anyone attempt mind-control on a Dark Jedi?

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"…It serves a double purpose of retrieving information – its access to your brother's mind is unlimited – and…controlling his reactions to events."

Sanar and Jaina gaped.

The Ithorian scientist, Yellis, continued, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. "Although it cannot determine Devnos' impulses and instincts at the initial stage, nothing happened in this man's mind without the chip picking up on it. As best we can determine, the micro-chip did not censor Devnos' every word and movement, but specific topics or emotions were stopped even before they could grow into acknowledged form. I'm afraid, however, that only Devnos can tell us exactly to what the chip was designed to put a stop."

"So he just…put up with this?" Jaina asked in a hoarse, dry voice.

"Well, perhaps, but if he didn't, the chip was designed to stimulate his nerves – create a private chamber of Hell, almost – until he backed off. If that didn't work…there is some evidence of memory-sweeping technology."

Jaina muttered something that wasn't generally heard in polite society. No one was clear-headed enough to admonish her – certainly not her parents, who were trying to comprehend that this sort of thing had happened to someone their daughter knew. "What does that mean, exactly?" Jaina asked, clenching her hands in fists.

"Apparently, if Devnos got too…difficult…the chip would simply wipe the cause of his strength of mind from his memory. He wouldn't remember a thing."

In unison, Jaina and Sanar took shuddering breaths, releasing them with wounded cries. "This isn't…happening," Sanar choked out. "It – it can't be…"

"How long has that – thing – been in him?" Leia found her voice to ask.

Yellis hesitated. "Well, we can't be sure – we have nothing to compare it with – "

"But…" Zekk led.

"Years," the Ithorian confessed. "A decade – perhaps longer."

Jaina seemed to crumple right before the others' eyes, and again Sanar's quiet, stunned reaction was not immediately noticed – which was how she wanted it.

Sanar wanted to move, but she could barely even breathe.

Yellis was wrong; it hadn't been a decade. Now that Sanar looked back, she could pinpoint the exact day Devnos had received the damned chip.

Or, at least, the last day she had seen him before he had had the depraved thing implanted in his head.

He had been seventeen – back from the Holy Brother grounds for four months, seventeen days. She had hated Devnos when he returned from that place – he had been hard, when she had needed him. It had been a few days after the first time Horaire tried to –

But Sanar wasn't thinking about him. Horaire was dead (murdered).

Devnos was still alive.

For a while.

All this time…for fifteen years… Sanar had noticed the abrupt change. True, upon his initial arrival, Devnos had been cold. But it hadn't taken him long to soften again, to wink at her when Horaire wasn't looking, to glare at the High Priest when he bullied Clayra or their mother. She had peeked out from under her defences, wondering if maybe his initial behaviour had been some kind of cruel joke.

He didn't know that, of course – she hadn't spoken to him from the first time he snapped at Clayra – but she had been so relieved. She hadn't needed to be the only one who fought the regime.

Until they came for Devnos, just when Sanar had been about to go up to him and ask if it was okay. If they were going to be okay, even though Daddy was gone, and Horaire looked at them all in a way that made Sanar feel very, very cold. They had arrived before her, though, and she had let them take him, because, she had told herself, what could she do against two Holy Brothers?

I should have torn them limb from limb.

Jaina provided a distraction from Sanar, and the older woman vaguely wondered if the Jedi did it on purpose.

Of course she is, a voice whispered. She knows you. She cares. When are you going to learn that your family is never what it seems?

Miserable, Sanar poorly consoled herself with the fact that her mother was, had been, and always would be, weak.

Mama. The one constant.

Sanar found herself longing for before – when she hadn't known about Devnos, when she hadn't cared about Solo or her boyfriend, or anything.

Why couldn't life just be black-and-white again? Was that such a bad thing to want?

The doctors kept trying to put Devnos back to sleep, the Strings kept waking him up, and Devnos was running out of time.

He could feel it – his life, being measured out with each second. He didn't think the Force would let him die before he played his part, but there was always that chance.

Devnos was expendable – a fact he knew all too well. And not only could he be replaced, but he had tried to change things – a complication he doubted the Strings enjoyed.

Now, if the doctors would just let me stay awake long to ask…

As if by his request, Devnos felt himself being tugged back into consciousness. "Stars, man!" he heard a doctor exclaim. "Stay asleep, already!"

"I…I need to…" His parched throat tried to silence him, but hadn't counted on a nurse giving him a little water. "I have to talk – to my…sister," Devnos garbled.

Suddenly, he wondered if she would even come. The truth of the matter was, he could hardly blame her if she had forgotten his existence the second she left his cell to order the surgery.

You wouldn't do that, would you? he fretted to the Strings. Make me fight for so long, then deny me the chance to warn her?

"Your sister?" the nurse fished. "Which one?"

Momentarily, he couldn't get past his confusion. Had Clayra somehow escaped, and now she was with Sanar? That made no sense – the Jirs would never let all the Klises get away. But he was tired, and so he only elaborated, "Sanar." Prying his eyes open, he did his best to glare the Twi'lek nurse into submission. "I need to talk to her. Right away. Alone. Don't – don't try to drug me again."

The Twi'lek looked to her superior, searching for reassurance. "I – I don't know if – "

Stupid girl, just let me talk to her before I cross over.

Inspiration hit, and he struggled to grasp the Force long enough to rattle the medical tools on the nurse's tray. "I'm not playing around, lady," he growled. "In case you haven't read my file, I don't have a lot of time."

The doctor must have nodded his harried consent, because the nurse scurried out of the room.

How useful of her, Devnos mused.

Relishing the lack of IT berating him for commending a "niftyax".

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"No."

Sanar's head twisted as she took in, with a hefty dose of scepticism, Solo's scowl. "Why not?"

"Um…let's see," Jaina retorted sarcastically, "maybe because you nearly died because of him?"

"She's right," Zekk offered, frowning worriedly.

Sanar rolled her eyes. "Of course you think that – you're a sap. If you didn't agree with your girlfriend, I'd think you'd had a lobotomy." She paused. "But it was Devnos who had said surgery – more or less. Come on, he's safe now, remember?"

Both of Cerasy's hands rested on the individual hilts of two of her blasters. "Look, Sanar, it's just that…we can't be sure of how much Devnos' behaviour was affected by the chip. Until we do, don't you think you should see him with someone else?"

Shooting the bounty hunter a dirty look, Sanar retorted, "Oh, sure, I'll just wait until he's dead." She levelled her stare on the nurse who had brought Devnos' request. "Where is he?" she asked,

The Twi'lek, her lekku twitching at the others' obvious disapproval, gestured for Sanar to follow her.

Ignoring her companions' protests, she did.

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Kyp felt the tug strengthen into a fierce pull, and he knew it was time to go and wait.

Before he could leave, however, Jarran grabbed his arm, making him stop. "I have one more request – a personal one," the man began.

Casting a longing look to the River's dark waters, Kyp nonetheless paused. "I killed you – you kind of have unlimited favours to call up," he pointed out dryly.

Jarran shrugged his words off. "It's about Sanar…"

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Please R&R :)

.Tjz