Chapter Twenty-Two: Still Time

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When Lera glanced up, Nichyn was still sketching. At least, she assumed that was what he was doing. He never shared the drawings with her, nor had he even confirmed it. Of course, she hasn't come out and asked him about it yet. The look on his face implied it was…personal. It was something he wasn't yet willing to share.

The Hapan girl sighed and returned her eyes to her own pieces of flimsi. She could understand Nichyn's wariness. After all, she hadn't exactly been totally honest, herself.

Not that she didn't want to be.

But she couldn't tell Nichyn—or Arelyk, or Shanya—not unless it became necessary. That wouldn't be happening for at least another long while.

Devnos' solution had been for her to use Nichyn's com-link to warn Clayra, who would then hopefully warn Sanar. Devnos sort of…slid into Lera's mind, directing her into scribbling what he needed to say. It had taken a period of adjustment as Lera tried to get used to the feeling of another person in her head. Once that was accomplished, however, she'd found herself over-sensitive when anyone—not just Devnos—brushed against her mind. Every time Shanya or Arelyk tried to check on her aura, Lera had to consciously decide to not jump. It was yet another thing to get used to.

But even beyond that, scribing for someone was not quite the norm when the 'someone' was on a fatal kind of probation. It took hours for Lera to pen a sentence of warning, and even that was pushing it. Devnos, for all his desperation to save Sanar, had not figured out what to say to her. It wasn't exactly the easiest thing to warn someone about—knowing what Lera did, the girl would be surprised if Sanar believed she would do what Prophecy had said she would. The role didn't fit yet.

At least they had some time, Lera comforted herself. They had months to plan exactly how to convince Sanar, and make things better.

They could still fix things. Lera knew—nothing was hopeless.

…Except, she thought, grinning, maybe the legibility of Devnos' writing.

Nichyn suddenly shifted, catching her attention. She raised her eyes to meet his grey ones. "Hey," she said. Without her noticing, a half-smile lit up her face.

"What are you writing?"

Lera folded the pieces of flimsi she had been trying to decipher. There was still time enough for this later. After stuffing the pages into her bag, she minimized the data-window she had been writing in. "Oh, stuff," she replied vaguely. "Bits of a story, and info on the characters." She and Nichyn were waiting for the others—Arelyk, Jolesp, Hasi and Zuleika—to show up for the first official meeting about their next "big holo" vid.

Curiosity kindled in Nichyn's gaze as he put his sketch inside the cover of one of his textbooks. "How is the holo-vid story coming along?" Almost as an afterthought (except she thought that maybe she was never an afterthought to Nichyn), he caught her hand and tugged her to his side.

Grinning, she sat beside him on the couch and leaned towards him. Her new friend had finally met Jolesp a few weeks ago, and the director seemed to have infected Nichyn with his holo-vid enthusiasm. Since then, Nichyn had been asking after all their previously-made vids. With Nichyn studying at home until the next school year, he shared Lera's more relaxed schedule; they had often taken a break from textbooks to go over one of Jolesp's projects.

"So?" he prodded now. His right arm, the one closest to her, lay across the top of the couch. It was, she thought, rather convenient for head-resting.

"I finished all the planning," she told him. "Now it's mostly just translating it into the script—it'll be rather different from my novel." She made a face. "Especially with Zuleika playing Lacane."

"Can I read what you have so far?"

Despite their increasing closeness over the past few weeks, Lera felt the usual nervousness that came when someone asked to read a piece of her soul for the first time. "Um. W-well, I-I haven't…" She swallowed, and forced her head to clear. It was Nichyn. "I haven't written very much of the script yet. A few scenes, sure, but mostly I'm just finishing up the planning."

Nichyn put his textbook—the same one holding his sketch—on the ground, to the left of them. That safe, he shifted just a little closer to her. "Will you tell me what it's about?"

He must have noticed her earlier anxiety—probably even her lie about what she had been writing. The concern in his eyes made her feel guilty. She never wanted him to be upset because of her.

"Lera?"

She gave him her friendliest, of-course-I-trust-you smile. "Okay, but it's going to be a little jumbled. I haven't really explained it to anyone else yet."

"What about Jolesp?"

The girl waved her hand dismissively. "Jolesp and I have been making holo-vids together for years. He trusts me to write something he can do." She didn't add that usually she told Arelyk all about her stories. This wasn't usually, and she hadn't described it to her best friend.

Nichyn's lips quirked upward before he managed to restrain the smile. But his concern had been replaced with warm interest.

Lera glowed. Then she blushed because she had glowed. Usually, only Arelyk…

"W-well, it—the story takes place during the First Imperial War. About, uh, fifteen years in. There's, um—the two main characters are Saja and Lacane. They're—well, they're very different. Saja grew up in Coruscant's lower levels; her life up to the story has been just… Lacane grew up surrounded by heroes trying to stay under the Imperial radar until the best time to strike."

"Who is playing who?"

Lera frowned in momentary confusion. "Who's— Oh. Acting. Uh, Zuleika is playing Lacane, and Hasi is portraying Saja. I don't think you've really met Hasi yet," Lera said at Nichyn's expression. "But—she's, uh, she's really…talented."

Nichyn raised an eyebrow, as if he had heard all Lera hadn't said about Miss Hasi Ov. "I suppose that is a good thing."

"She's—well—" Lera stumbled. Hasi, more than the usual things, made her do that a lot. "Hasi and Zuleika are…friends. Kind of." She winced. "You'll see."

He let it slide for the moment. "Who are the other characters?"

"Well, Arelyk is playing Harris, Lacane's brother." Lera couldn't help her grin. "Zuleika's ecstatic—usually he has to play a love interest, which 'always grosses her out,' even when it's opposite Hasi.

"Jolesp will probably play a few small parts—mostly he'll be filming, though. And—and you're playing Kalis." A teasing look in her eyes, she poked Nichyn in his side. "I hope you're ready to kiss Zuleika." Her grin widened. "And Hasi."

His expression froze. "I— What?

The dawning panic in his eyes had Lera collapsing against him in giggles. "Oh—Nichyn—" She tried to stifle her laughter in his side. "The look—on your face—"

He stared down at her for a moment, caught between a variety of feelings. Warmth that she was laughing because of him. Embarrassment because she had clearly expected—and now delighted in—his reaction. Panic—she had written a situation where he had to kiss Zuleika?

This reaction showed in his tentative half-smile. "You're— Why do I…?"

Lera managed to pull herself together enough to look up at him. Although a grin still stretched across her face, her giggles had mostly dissipated. "Zuleika wanted me to write some kind of love triangle, for once." She rolled her eyes. "And since both Jolesp and Arelyk are 'only to be used in emergency situations'… You get to be Kalis."

The dark-haired teen groaned. "Lera…"

She sat up; her mud eyes regarded him carefully. "You won't actually be kissing them," she told him. "Not on the lips, at least. Apparently, there's some…technique, or move, or something…that makes it look like you are when you aren't. Kissing, I mean." She blushed.

Feeling only a little better, Nichyn nevertheless added it to his list of things to worry about later. "So, who are you playing?"

"Oh." She pulled her knees up on the couch. "Um, I'm a secondary character named Janeel. She's Saja's younger sister." Lera's cheeks tinged pink. "She doesn't talk much, but she's the only person Saja cares for, before she meets Lacane and—later—Kalis."

"So, if I have to learn the sound and recording technology…" Nichyn gave her a look. The one that so clearly said, And who's bright idea was that? "…what off-camera job do you have?"

"My dear fellow," a voice interrupted. "Lera is my blushing angel." A moment, and several soft, tell-tale thumps later, Jolesp entered the living room.

The young director grinned at both of them as he sat—awkwardly, as always—in the chair across from them. "Nichyn. Angel."

Lera stuck her tongue out at him, but made no move to greet him with their usual hug. She had a feeling embarrassment was on its way, and she felt perfectly comfortable where she was.

(with Nichyn)

Nichyn smiled at her, and this time she didn't blush. Some kernel of understanding she had just found now made it seem silly to be shy around him. Briefly forever, she held his gaze.

Then she turned back to Jolesp. "Hi, esp-Jol."

"asina-Ler," he rejoined playfully. With a well-practiced movement, the teenager dragged his right leg into a more comfortable position.

Despite his affluent family name, Jolesp looked like the stereotypical humanoid geek. Jolesp was lanky—almost bony—with a thick mop of electric blue hair, and few would miss his Zaggalin heritage. Because of it, the left side of his face, neck and torso was naturally painted with a spiderweb of raised, violet veins. The clothes he wore were always an interesting mix of film buff/geek shirts, and a lovingly picked out "Mom wardrobe."

What had kept him inside with Lera, however, was his twisted leg—the consequence of an unfortunate childhood accident that even bacta couldn't fix. Not even Gallinore children were completely safe from the Second Imperial War.

From the way he constantly gave off an "ultimate holo-maker high," however, no one would think Jolesp had settled when he gave up suddenly problematic sports.

"As I was saying," the holo enthusiast said now, "I couldn't possibly make a movie without our darling Lerasina. After all, even my genius can only make so much happen. Lera knows me." He patted her on the knee as if she was a particularly bright child who'd given the right answer. "Never mind the writing—which, I admit, is quite beyond me. She co-directs, coaches the actors…even the actresses, when she can stand up against two helsix girls we know. And—the best part—she sweet-talks Shanya into giving us extra snacks." Jolesp beamed.

Lera went scarlet, and peeked at Nichyn out of the corner of her eye. It almost looked like she was thinking of diving back into Nichyn's side to hide. "I write, th-that's all," she muttered. "A-and try t-to protect my story's virtue fr-from bad acting."

"Aw, look at that blush," Jolesp teased. "A little too dark for an actress, I'm afraid—really, you're turning splotchy. But that's why you're the first—not the last—to touch the script."

She threw a pillow at his face. "Where are the others?"

"They're coming." Jolesp huffed. "Slowly," he added, more impatiently.

"Are we starting the filming today?" Nichyn asked, still unclear on what had become second nature to the original group of Gallinore teens.

"No," Lera quickly answered. She jumped in before Jolesp could. "Everyone still has to go over the scripts—or the characters and plot, at least. We probably won't start filming for another month or so."

"Hmph," Jolesp grumbled. "Pushing art…"

Lera shared a look with Nichyn, but grinned at her overzealous friend. "I suppose I should tell you now that I'm sticking with my ending?" she suggested.

"The happy one?" Jolesp's expression twisted, and he made a strange querrick sound in the back of his throat.

Lera raised an eyebrow. "So far? Yeah, it's looking that way."

Before Jolesp could say anything more, the trio became aware of two female voices approaching the room.

"All I'm saying is, Staven is Class A, but I just don't see him in your future," said the first voice. Hasi. "Even your quick-trip-to-the-supplies-room future. I mean, really, Zuleika. He's far too…serious. Deep, almost. It would never work."

Lera could almost hear Zuleika bristle. "Oh, really? This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that, despite your best efforts, he couldn't keep his eyes off of me in Galactic Civilizations, would it?"

"Really, dear. Of course he was looking at you. He's just a boy, after all, and you were practically offering to—"

"Come on in!" Lera quickly interrupted. Her eyes were wide, and her face flushed. "We're ready to hand out parts. Character roles, I mean."

There was a moment of silence, as if the two slightly older girls were locked in a staring contest. Then Hasi entered the room, followed closely by Zuleika.

Lera resisted the urge to look at Nichyn—she was pretty sure she knew what his reaction to Hasi would be. The dark-haired, dark-skinned beauty prided herself on drawing male attention. Especially if another girl was in the room. Especially if Zuleika was in the room.

To be fair, though, Zuleika tried to do the same.

"So, you're my new tall, dark and handsome, are you?" Hasi almost purred as she came around the couch. Without warning, she leaned in and kissed Nichyn firmly on the lips.

She pulled away before anyone—least of all Nichyn—could react. "Hmm," she said out loud. "Tastes like a first kiss, boyo. Hope you weren't planning on keeping that."

After nearly six years of knowing Zuleika's best friend, Lera rarely let herself react to Hasi's games. She usually sat still, kept quiet, and hoped the other girl would move on—either from her, or even before Hasi noticed Lera still existed.

This, apparently, wasn't "usually."

"What the kriff, Hasi!" the writer snapped, shooting to her feet. "Leave him alone."

Surprise at Lera's reaction flickered across Hasi's face before the older girl rearranged it into cool amusement. "What's wrong, Lera?" She made a show of looking at Nichyn, then back to Lera, with wide eyes. "Oh," she pretended to realize. "The kiss?" Hasi smiled, and there was something curious, and amused, and smug about it. "I just thought our first kiss shouldn't be on-screen. Now, don't scowl so, Lera. Your generally amiable expression is one of your…few…physically attractive features." The smile suggested something else entirely.

Beside her, Lera felt Nichyn stiffen. But the girl herself only rolled her eyes. "So?" she retorted. "If beauty makes you act the way you do, then I like being ugly."

Nichyn stood as abruptly as his friend had, moments before. "Lera—"

But Hasi, affording the writer's insult only an amused laugh, interrupted him. "Ugly?" she repeated. "No. Just plain, Lera. Usually."

Somehow, the concession of stark truth hit Lera harder than the earlier implication. She flinched, but held her ground for just a little longer. Hasi had still embarrassed Nichyn. Nichyn, who didn't understand half their customs, who sometimes still struggled with their language, who was trying so hard to adjust to it all without revealing his homesickness. Nichyn, who…somehow…knew part of Lera that she had let no one else see—and vice versa.

"I don't care," she told the snobby girl. Slowly, she sat back down; Nichyn copied her after a chilly pause. "Just leave us out of your stupid competition with Zuleika."

Hasi looked ready to pounce on Lera's demand, but a glance at Nichyn (whom Lera still hadn't looked at since Hasi's entrance) stopped her for whatever reason. Instead, she said only, "Oh, Lera."

Zuleika had been watching the exchange with her own, rather unsubtle, mix of emotions—smugness, amusement, curiosity, and some anger. At the argument's apparent conclusion, she dramatically rolled her eyes. "Now that that's over and done with. Force, Hasi. Don't you know better than to kiss a guy in front of his girlfriend? He might actually realize, in comparison, that he prefers personality."

Lera frowned. In front of his— Oh, kriff. She tried to sink deep into the couch, and hide from even Nichyn. Maybe he wouldn't ask—

"Lera?" he whispered down to where she had burrowed in his side. She didn't need to look at his face to know his expression was faintly confused and self-conscious. "What are they talking about? Girlfriend? Is—is there another meaning for that term?"

"It's nothing," she squeaked.

Just like when she was four and trying to deal with playground bullies, Arelyk was her saviour. He came ambling through the door, all of his usual timeliness in place. With a raised eyebrow, he took in the scene his still-arguing sister and her friend were making. "What did I miss?" he asked. It wasn't specifically directed to anyone, but Lera snatched it as her—or, rather, Nichyn's—distraction.

"Nothing," she hurriedly repeated. "Zuleika are just being—you know—them."

He shrugged, but no doubt noticed Nichyn's perplexed expression, and Lera's discomfort. "If you're sure."

Lera averted her eyes. "Let's just get through this meeting."

-x-x-x-x-x-

After the meeting, Nichyn and Arelyk had gone to Jolesp's house; Nichyn was in for a much-needed introduction to the sound/recording equipment. Lera would have gone in Arelyk's place, but she had already scheduled her Language & Literature test. Lera had decided to stay at the Ryms' house until her father picked her up; Arelyk reminded her only to lock up before she left.

She hadn't planned it, but the situation gave her a chance to scout out the location of Nichyn's com-link—the one that Lera would, hopefully, use to warn Clayra. She just needed the location, so she'd know where it was when the time came.

She struggled with her guilt for a moment before slipping into Nichyn's empty room.

The dark-haired teenager had been living in the Ryms' home for months now, but it was still neat and austere. His walls remained bare of any posters or holo-images. His bed was made, and the floor swept. The desk was kept generally tidy; data-pads and textbooks were carefully arranged against the wall in easy reach.

Arelyk had once casually remarked that Nichyn gave nothing away, if he could help it—and, in his room, Nichyn could more than help it. Lera, however, had long since realized that Nichyn (intentionally or otherwise) left more clues for her than he did for others. (Or maybe she just knew what to look for?)

The room confirmed the danger in Nichyn's life before he came to Gallinore. He kept personal items hidden away; Nichyn was well aware that anything—no matter how innocent—could reveal an exploitable weakness. Yet, she'd seen his appreciation when he first walked into the room; Nichyn liked the earthy colors. He would never be completely comfortable in a heavily industrialized area, surrounded by technology.

And she knew he kept a box of papers (which she had only glimpsed, but assumed were drawings) under his bed. If Lera knew where they were, then so would any of Nichyn's Na'Lein enemies—that, more than anything, told her he was beginning to feel safe.

Stifling the temptation to sneak a peek at the sketches, Lera quickly searched her friend's room. There were only so many places Nichyn could hide anything in his room. At least, only a few that she'd know where to look. The closet was out—Lera had stayed in this room, herself, when it was still just a guest room. It offered pitifully little space, and no shelves out of sight.

First: a quick check in the drawers—nothing obtrusive, nothing more than she would do if he was right there beside her. Next: the surfaces—desk, bureau, and between textbooks.

She did not find the com-link.

Lera's shoulders snagged a little in disappointment before she reminded herself that it didn't matter yet. There was still time enough and more. She didn't even have a compete message yet.

She started to head outside to wait for her dad, then stopped. Closet, she thought. Well, it couldn't hurt. However unlikely, however unfit for hiding things it was, Nichyn had had years of practice in hiding. Maybe he'd found a spot that she and Arelyk had missed.

Glancing at her chrono, she quickly estimated how much more time she had. Five minutes until she should have her butt on the porch—her university professor father would throw a fit if he realized she hadn't spent this extra time studying Lady Valmine Shaq'pare.

Five minutes. It'd more than do.

The closet, like Nichyn's room, was mostly bare. More so, even, as he used it to hold only a few articles of clothing. Two jackets, and one foreign outfit that looked too big for Nichyn. She stared at the latter for a moment, before pushing away the thoughts it incited.

As she had predicted, her search was completed within a minute, and turned out to be fruitless. Better to just ask him, when the message needs to get sent. Lera winced. "Won't that be a fun conversation," she muttered. "'Hey, Nichyn, can I borrow your com-link? You know, the one with your mother on the other end?' 'Why?' 'Oh, it's just, your dead uncle and I have to warn your estranged aunt about Prophecy before it eats her.' 'Oh, well, in that case…'"

She was just about to shut the closet door when she noticed a piece of flimsi on the floor. Curious, she bent to pick it up. Between her fingers, she could tell the quality was extremely poor—she used better flimsi for her mathematics notes—and Lera unconsciously wrinkled her nose.

After her exam, maybe she'd talk her dad into stopping at one of the stores. She distractedly tried to remember when Nichyn's lifeday was, or if the purchase she had in mind could be excused for some anniversary or another…

Standing, she flipped the flimsi over to get a look at it.

An older woman—perhaps in her forties, but Lera had never been a good judge of age—stared back at her. It only took the girl a minute to realize it was Nichyn's mother.