Chapter Eleven: Visitors
The room was quiet. Serene. There had never been much to the Academy's medical facilities. Treatments were reserved for faculty, staff, and security. Students could only expect the most basic triage. Acolytes were expected to prove themselves against the dangers of Korriban, and it's hard for the overseers to send them to their deaths when they have a steady supply of kolto.
But the room Lorrik found himself in was not meant for a student, especially one who hadn't even been admitted to the Academy proper. The structural design and the equipment it housed suggested he was in an area near the apprentices' suites. And like the suites, Lorrik knew he was there at his master's behest.
As his senses returned to him, the inquisitor's overall stupor began to fade. And as it left him, a pain began to surface. What began as a feeling of hunger quickly turned into a sharp churning of his insides. As the pain persisted, Lorrik cringed, involuntarily shifting his legs. The resting Pureblood immediately stirred from his resting place, raising himself from his seat and talking hold of his partner's shoulders.
"Lorrik! You're awake! Are you okay?" Jresh hastily asked, shifting from surprise to excitement to concern in the span of a few seconds. Lorrik's hands clutched at his gut as the pain slowly lessened, but never totally disappeared.
"Yeah, I'm… okay," Lorrik replied, not entirely sure of his answer.
"You had us worried," Jresh stated, calming himself and slowly lowering himself back to his bedside seat. Though he had resumed his usual stoicism, not was all right in the Pureblood's eyes. His usual rigid and upright stance was lax as his head hung low.
The Human chuckled. "I'm sorry if I gave you a scare. To be fair, you had me worried too. But look, we're both fine now."
"Lorrik… that was five days ago," Jresh hesitantly explained.
"Heh… good one," Lorrik dismissed with another chuckle. As he continued to stare into his companion's eyes, he slowly realized the Pureblood's seriousness. Panning his gaze up and down, Lorrik only now noticed that Jresh had exchanged his battle attire for a set of casual robes. The inquisitor sank in his bed, staring blankly into the distance as his head fell to his pillow. "Five days? What happened after I blacked out?
"Syrosk carried you back to the Academy, managed to secure you this room," Jresh answered.
"I guess he isn't as detached as he says he is. So much for not caring if any of us die."
"Here's the thing, the Academy staff declared you dead on arrival," Jresh explained, almost whispering. "You weren't breathing. You had no pulse. Even Syrosk couldn't sense any part of your mind. Everyone thought you were gone. Everyone except me."
"Were you awake? Last I saw you were… screaming in pain," Lorrik stated, a subtle whimper in his voice.
"It was nothing," Jresh firmly said. "Pain fades. But as I was treated, I saw the medical staff giving up on you. They thought you dead, but I knew better. I could still sense your presence, however faint it was. I sensed your pain. Your numbness. I knew whatever transpired had taken its toll on your body, but you were not beyond saving."
Lorrik rested in silence, expressionless eyes still transfixed upon some distant spot on the far wall. Eventually he muttered, "If it weren't for you… I'd be dead."
"My part was insignificant, it was your strength that allowed you to pull through," Jresh assuaged.
"No. No it wasn't. The only reason I'm alive right now is because of our bond. Through the Force, our lives are interconnected."
"That's truly remarkable," Jresh admitted, unaware such a thing was possible.
"Yeah… remarkable," Lorrik replied, lacking any modicum of enthusiasm.
"Did I forget to mention you've just come back from the dead? You seem rather displeased."
"None of this this should have ever happened in the first place. I tapped into something beyond my control, and I was punished for it. And now you share that punishment. That… power… consumed parts of me, parts of you."
"I already told you that you needn't worry about me," Jresh reminded. "Wounds heal."
"Physical wounds, yes. I don't know about these," Lorrik admitted. "That was pure dark side energy, from a technique I hadn't even realized I learned, from a holocron that almost broke my mind. I should have been able to predict this. But I let my lust for knowledge take control. I wanted to win, no matter the cost. I wanted to prove myself to Syrosk, the other students… and most of all, you. I didn't want to be a disgrace during our first genuine bout with the master. I thought I was above that petty Sith nonsense… I guess not."
The two apprentices heads dipped as the room was consumed by silence. For the first time, Lorrik had been utterly defeated. Jresh saw no vestige of his companion's usual light. It had been darkened. Smothered. No more optimism. No more persistence. No more vigor. And the only person Jresh knew could lift someone from this state, was the afflicted himself.
"Lorrik. This is not the first challenged we've faced. And it will not be the last. We'll get through this and move forward, just as we always do," Jresh declared.
"This is different. This isn't something we can just casually overcome," Lorrik muttered, turning his gaze toward his bandaged right hand. "What's happened… what I've done… I don't know if we-"
"It's in the past. Our pasts are merely a sequence of events that shape our path. They don't define it. And they certainly don't define us," Jresh recited as he lifted himself from his bedside seat. "Get some rest, I'm sure everyone will want to know that you're awake."
The Pureblood laid a comforting hand on his partner's wrist one final time before heading toward the exit. As Lorrik lifted his gaze he was greeted with the disconcerting sight of his companion's gait. The physicality of his left foot was covered with garb, but the pain wrought with each step was readily apparent. Lorrik realized that he was responsible for the most lasting wound Jresh had ever suffered.
The inquisitor's heart sunk. He had caused irreparable damage to both himself and his partner. With a deep sigh, Lorrik was alone, accompanied only by silence and his own thoughts. Thoughts that were almost universally directed toward his injured hand. The Human stared at the wrapping, contorting his covered fingers. He moved his free hand toward his forearm, scratching at the skin that bordered the bandages. Scratching turned to searching, and the inquisitor looked for a way to undo his wrappings. Starting at the base, he began to unfasten and unroll the fabric, working his way upward toward his hand. As more and more flesh was revealed, he saw a paleness begin to emerge. Paleness which eventually turned to calloused and cracked skin.
His hand fully revealed, Lorrik saw that he had suffered no ordinary wound. Dark lines were visible under his skin, branching and converging toward his fingers. But the most disconcerting thing of all rested in the palm of his hand. A large blot covered the interior of his hand. Not a scab, but a tainted blackness that appeared to have emerged from within.
As Lorrik rested in his bed, he couldn't take his eyes off of the injured hand. Calming himself, he attempted to focus his mind. It was a wound. Wounds could be healed. The inquisitor attempted to channel healing energies through his right hand to no effect. It refused to shine with the usual radiant light, and no matter how hard he tried, it remained as pale and blackened as ever. Taking his mind off the injury, Lorrik tried the same with his other hand. He delighted as he saw his left hand glow with a soft light. With a deep breath, he guided it toward his injured hand, but the instant they touched, he experienced a sharp pain unlike any other. What was once numb reacted violently to the healing energies, forcing the Human to withdraw his other hand. As the pain subsided, Lorrik saw that his effort were for naught.
The inquisitor's head sunk into its pillow as he rubbed his eyes with his normal hand, the other falling to his side. As the minutes passed, Lorrik sat in silence, trying his hardest to cull the thoughts brewing in his mind.
The silence persisted until there was a knock on the wall near the room's entrance. Lorrik perked up to see Ryloh standing in the doorway. He waved the Twi'lek in, who took a seat in the bedside chair. The other inquisitor's blue face attempted to convey a sense of comfort, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes.
"How are you doing, Lorrik?" Ryloh asked.
"I'm… fine," Lorrik answered.
"No… you're not," Ryloh corrected. The Twi'lek tried to force a smile. "Remember, I've been in your position before. Out in the wastes, sacrificing my body and mind for the sake of my partner. You know, I never got around to thanking you."
"For what?"
"For not telling Kar'ai the… details of what I did out there," Ryloh clarified. "I wanted to tell her myself after we returned to the Academy. Didn't want her to worry before we were safe."
"How did she take it?" Lorrik asked.
"She was… surprised. She wasn't used to other people going through so much for her benefit. We're not really conditioned to appreciate sacrifice, are we? She chastised me, said I never should have done that, but eventually we both came to terms with what happened. She thought she owed me something, took a while to convince her she didn't. But in the end, we were closer because of it."
"So what are you saying, everything's going to be just fine?" Lorrik muttered.
"No, it won't. We both know we abandoned any hope of normalcy long ago. To this day, my mind has not fully recovered. I still suffer from bouts of pain, confusion, disorientation. But not for a moment do I regret my actions. I took on that pain because I knew it would spare Kar'ai."
"And what if you discovered you didn't spare her that pain? That despite all your sacrifice, you ended up making things worse?" Lorrik asked.
"Then I would endure until I set things right," Ryloh answered.
"And what if things couldn't be set right?"
"All things can be mended with time," Ryloh declared as he raised himself from his seat. "It's simply the nature of the mending that must adapt."
As he exited the room, he shot the Human a quick smile before nodding toward the hall beyond the entrance. As Ryloh exited, his partner Kar'ai took his place, entering and approaching the inquisitor's bed. She took a seat beside the inquisitor, locking her eyes with his.
"Lorrik," she spoke up,
"Kar'ai," Lorrik shot back.
"So you're finally up… relatively speaking," Kar'ai joked, an awkward chuckle punctuating the Rattataki's words. "You know, we were genuinely worried that you had died. All of us, even the less than pleasant apprentices. Are you doing okay?"
"Well, aside from my insides being rearranged, and my hand…"
"I meant emotionally," Kar'ai corrected.
"I don't know. And I didn't think you'd be the one to care," Lorrik admitted.
"That's understandable. You know how us warriors are," Kar'ai stated. "I guess this is coming from a place of empathy. I think I understand some of the things you're going through."
"Do you?"
"The feeling of guilt, the feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that you should have been able to do more, do it better, do anything to change what had happened. Am I that far off?"
"I suppose not," Lorrik quietly admitted. "So you've come to terms with what Ryloh did?"
"Crippling himself with pain so that I wouldn't have to suffer through your healing methods? I guess I have. To be honest, I was furious with him when he told me. 'How could he put himself through that for me'? 'Why is he suffering when I'm perfectly fine'? Things you think are going through your partner's head right now. You think you've burdened him with something."
"Who's to say I haven't?" Lorrik stated. "This entire situation is my fault. It all could have been prevented if I had bothered to think for even a moment. Now I owe him my life and all he has to show for it is the loss of a functional leg."
"We've been here, what, a decade? You've been partners with Jresh for almost two years now? Tell me, after all this time, how could you have forgotten something so simple? The fact that Jresh is a warrior."
"I have not forgotten," Lorrik muttered.
"You haven't? Then you know that he doesn't care about pain. He doesn't care about injuries. Warriors care about one thing, and one thing only, and use their passion toward that thing to drive them forward regardless of whatever obstacles try to impede them. To give those obstacles a second thought, would be unbefitting a warrior. You could take so much away from him, and he would still only care about that one thing. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, you cannot stop him. If you knock him down, it's up to you whether or not to pick him back up, but he will eventually rise, with or without you. But knowing Jresh, I think he'd vastly prefer it to be with you."
Lorrik offered a solemn nod as Kar'ai raised herself from her seat. "I want to thank you and Ryloh for stopping by."
"No problem, Lorrik," Kar'ai declared as she headed out of the room. "But we're not the only ones who came to see you."
Without another word, the Rattataki exited, leaving a puzzled Human sitting in his bed. A few seconds later, however, and two new figures entered the room. Isorr and Arlia. The Zabrak and Twi'lek approached the Human, opting to stand, leaning casually against the wall nearest the patient.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Lorrik admitted.
"We could say the same," Arlia joked. "We all thought you were dead. Well, all except Jresh. But then Ryloh starts trusting what your partner says, then Kar'ai starts believing him as well. Then Syrosk thinks you can be saved, so he dunks you in the kolto tank. Of course, your injuries were mostly internal so it required full immersion, but then again you weren't using your lungs anyway."
"Well, that's always nice to hear," Lorrik muttered.
"You know, you're going to have to teach me that technique sometime. Never seen anything like it," Arlia admitted, genuinely intrigued.
"To be honest, neither have I. But I'd avoid it if I were you. Rather unpleasant," Lorrik admitted, raising his right hand. The two visitors look at the injured hand with wide eyes.
"I must say, Lorrik, I am impressed," Isorr spoke up. "I'd wager even Syrosk isn't capable of conjuring such power."
"Given my current state, I'd say neither am I," Lorrik stated. "It was more than my body could handle, and parts of it were consumed in the process."
"Altered, not consumed," Isorr offered. "The Sith are dynamic. That is what your partner once told me. Change in is the nature of the dark side, and it is in our nature as Sith to control it. You displayed great power, and have earned our respect for it."
"Power? I crippled Jresh and left some of my insides out there on the dueling circle. You call that power?"
"I call it potential," Isorr declared. "Potential I did not think you possessed prior."
"You stop by to say all this?" Lorrik asked.
"To tell you the truth, Jresh asked us, well, told us to visit you," Arlia informed. "We thought to object, but then again, we had nothing else to do. Our studies sort of hit a roadblock after your little ordeal."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, Syrosk hasn't emerged from his quarters since he dropped you off here," Arlia explained. "We've taken the initiative to meet up ourselves, us and the other students, have some light duels…"
"Jresh spent most of his time in here with you," Isorr added. "Although he did manage show up for the second day."
"You mean he was in fighting condition?" Lorrik asked, the most interested he had been all day.
"Turns out kolto can't fully heal whatever it is that happened to you and him," Arlia explained. "They took you out of the tank after you showed little improvement. Jresh though, he up and walked out of here after his first day of treatment. He favored the other leg but managed to do just as well in our practice bouts. Even Isorr couldn't beat him."
"They were practice bouts, it wasn't about winning," Isorr hastily defended. "Without training sabers, we seem to be a bit more cautious with one another…"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Arlia said, digging her elbow into her partner's side.
"Wait, so what has Syrosk been doing these past few days?" Lorrik asked.
"Honestly, we're not sure," Arlia admitted. "Maybe he'll emerge now that you're awake."
"Hopefully. I'll not see my training stalled because this one refuses to get up," Isorr declared.
"Ah, there's the Isorr we know and love," Lorrik joked, regaining some of his usual vigor. "Well, as awkward as this must have been for you, I appreciate the visit."
"Oh, if you think this was awkward," Arlia chuckled as the two made their way out. Lorrik responded with the quick arch of his brow, followed by a widening of his eyes.
"Wait, you mean…" Lorrik started, before watching the last two apprentices walk in. Nesk and Vurt. The Trandoshan took his place against the wall whilst the Nikto took a seat at the bed's side. Lorrik slowly panned his gaze between the two figures, both of whom offered their own cold stares in return.
The three apprentices remained silent for what seemed like a minute, before Lorrik finally spoke up. "Well, this has been great guys, but…"
"Lorrik," Vurt finally spoke, to Lorrik's surprise. His voice was utterly deep, with a smoothness that contrasted the natural grit of his partner.
"I… honestly couldn't remember if you spoke Basic…" Lorrik admitted.
"I have spoken to Syrosk when appropriate," Vurt stated, each word drawn out and precise. "I speak only to those who have earned my respect. You are the fourth person to do so."
"I… see."
"Before coming to the Academy, I was born into a cult known as the Morgukai," Vurt explained. "Nesk was brought up in a traditional Trandoshan hunting culture. Both belief systems call for a deeper understanding and appreciation for death than you might find in a typical Sith. You are the first being we have met capable of overcoming it. And for that you have our respect."
"Well, uh, I'm honored, but really, I have Jresh to thank," Lorrik admitted. "I think it was him calling to me that actually kept me alive."
"Death is for the unwilling," Vurt coldly stated. "Jresh alone could not have saved you. You are alive, because you willed it to be so. You could have given up. You could have ignored the call. But you didn't. Jresh may have extended a hand, but it was you who took hold. You have unfinished business here, whether you realize it or not. Some part of you refused death."
"Why are you telling me this?" Lorrik asked.
"Confidence is measured by merit," Vurt declared. "We follow Syrosk, because he is strong. When he abandoned us to the wastes, we followed you, because you managed to prove yourself. Should we find ourselves abandoned again, we know who we will follow."
Without another word, the two figure removed themselves from the room, offering one final nod of confidence to the Human as the departed.
"Well, I suppose that takes care of the visitors."
Outside the Academy halls, the lands that stretched before the facility found themselves burdened by the usual rays of sunlight and heat. Business proceeded as usual within the training grounds, acolytes vying for the attention of overseers, apprentices fulfilling the wishes of their masters. The activities continued uninterrupted even as a shuttle passed closely overhead. The gray passenger vessel touched down at the nearest landing pad, releasing a squeal as its landing gears pressed against the metallic platform. The ship's doors opened and ramp extended, a new batch of acolytes slowly making their way off the ship. After them, however, a lone figure emerged, unique from those who preceded him.
The figure made his way toward the Academy with a casual pace, the tail of his vibrant red coat bouncing with each step.