A Private Chat and a Ship
The abandoned apartment felt a bit crowded with five people in it, especially when two of them took up as much space as Konshu and Zaalbar did. Steven sat himself in one of the chairs, far away from where Konshu had settled, cross legged on the floor. His head was still pounding from whatever the Jedi had done.
He was having a hard time focusing on the conversation between Layla and Konshu. They were arguing about how to get off the planet, with Layla clearly not liking the way she was being talked down to. Steven wanted to step into the conversation to back her up, but he couldn’t seem to move. It was like he was watching his own body from the outside and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d blinked.
Layla threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, turning her back on the impassive Konshu. “It’s been a long day. I’m not talking to you anymore now.” She snapped, walking over to Steven. “I cannot believe him! How is someone that stuck up a Jedi? As if he has an actual plan.”
I like her.Me too. He thinks a little dreamily.
“You doing okay, Steven?” Talking seems like too much, so he just nods. “... I guess you did just wake up this morning. Maybe you still need more recovery time.” She mused, brows knit in worry.
His heart twisted. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want her looking at him like this. “I’m just tired.” He manages. “Like you said, long day.”
She nodded sympathetically. “I’m going for a walk. Need to burn off some temper before I go to bed.” She shot a glare over her shoulder at Konshu, who was either meditating or napping. It was impossible to tell which.
“[I will join you.]” Came Zaalar’s growl. Steven translated automatically, in case Layla didn’t know. His eyelids flickered even as he spoke.
“Rest, Steven.” Layla put a hand on his shoulder for a moment and he leaned into the touch. He didn’t remember her leaving or closing his eyes.
***
Steven was in a small, plain room with no windows and no door. The metal walls were tarnished with a few clean spots reflecting Steven’s own face back at him. He didn’t take the time to wonder how he’d gotten here or panic about being locked in, too distracted by the room’s other occupant. There was a cot in the center of the room and laying on it was a man. He was battered and sick looking, his breathing so shallow that his chest barely rose and fell. He was shirtless, with someone having balled the garment up and placed it under his head as a makeshift pillow. His face was twisted as if he were in pain or having a nightmare. Also it was Steven’s face.
Oh, this is a dream. Steven thought, a little relieved, as he crossed over to the cot. Even though the man had his face, Steven was sure they were separate entities. It was the kind of conviction that only came to him in dreams.
The man groaned in his sleep, his whole body shuddering in either pain or fear, and Steven’s heart twisted. He wished, more than anything, that he knew how to soothe the man, comfort him in some way. He looked around. The room was empty except for the cot and the two of them. Nothing to help him make the man more comfortable. The sleeper took a sharp breath, clenching his fists so tightly that Steven saw a trickle of red between his fingers. He quickly knelt on the floor and took one of those scarred hands in both his own, massaging white knuckles to try and relax the other’s fingers.
“It’s alright, mate. Just a dream.” He whispered. Somehow, he knew he shouldn’t be loud. This was a fellow who needed sleep, however unsettled it may be. To his surprise, the man relaxed almost immediately at the sound of his voice. His breathing evened out, though it was still worryingly shallow. His face, brows still knit and eyes still tight shut, turned towards Steven. On instinct, he rested a hand on the man’s sweat soaked hair, rubbed his thumb between his brows to try and relax his face too. “You’re okay. Not alone.” It just felt like the right thing to say, even if the not-him couldn’t hear.
“How did you get in here?” A sharp voice came from behind him, making Steven yelp and fall on his ass as he jerked away from the sleeper, like he’d been caught doing something wrong. Scrambling to his hands and knees as he turned, he met the irritated gaze of… another him. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” The second man with his face said crossly. He held himself differently from Steven, back straight and body tense, like he was expecting an attack. Dark eyes flicked between Steven and the sleeper, his jaw working.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come in, but I opened my eyes here. I can’t control where I go in dreams, mate.” Steven slowly got to his feet. Something told him this was not a man who appreciated sudden movements.
The tremor in his voice had an instant effect on the man, who shook his head and held up gloved hands placatingly. “You’re right. Not your fault. I know that.” He circled the room so that he stood on the other side of the cot, looking down at the occupant. “I thought he was getting better… actually spoke to him today. But then he went out again.” He sounded small, lonely.
“What’s wrong with him?” There were other questions Steven knew he should have, but the man’s condition, his pain, had captured all his attention.
“He got hurt.”
“Obviously.” Steven rolled his eyes.
“I… shouldn’t be talking to you anyway.” The man shifted uncomfortably, looking more like Steven in that moment. “Get out.”
“I don’t know how. And I can’t just leave him like this.” Steven protested.
“You being here ain’t gonna fix him.” The other snapped, then he looked down at the sleeper’s more relaxed features and his shoulders sagged. He looked resigned. “... I gotta go have a conversation with the bastard anyway. You can stay for now. Not like he’ll let you remember.” He turned away and Steven heard him mutter “You’re better at this shit anyway.” Then he walked directly into the nearest wall and was gone.
***
Layla returned from her walk, looking thoughtful. She’d gotten a message and met with the mercenary from the under city, Candarus. Apparently, he was dissatisfied with his boss and wanted to steal Davik’s ship to get off world, past the blockade. The plan he’d suggested was risky, but they didn’t have any better options. That was becoming the motto of her life.
She and Zaalbar entered the apartment just as Steven sat bolt upright in his chair, eyes wide and staring. He focused on her and his mouth twitched spastically.
“Welcome back.” Mission said brightly, putting down the computer spike she’d been working on.
“We might have a way off this rock, but… it’s a little involved and we have to team up with that man who led the salvage party.” Layla said right out.
Konshu turned his head towards her, curiously. “Explain.”
“A crime boss named Davik has a fancy ship that Canderous thinks he can help us steal, but he needs launch codes to get it past the Sith blockade. To get those, we have to break into the Sith base. When we get those, Zaalbar and I are supposed to meet up with Canderous, go to Davik’s mansion and pretend to look for work. We get the ship, pick you all up and hopefully don’t die.”
There was a short silence as everyone considered this. Konshu broke the silence. “Very well. We must leave Taris as soon as possible.” He stood up, unfolding himself joint by joint. “I will accompany you to-”
“No.” Layla interrupted. “You’re very… obvious. You’re also a Jedi they’re actively hunting for.”
Konshu glared at her. “I am still commander of this mission.”
“And if you don’t defer to those with more espionage experience than you, we’ll all get caught.” Layla kept her voice even, looking up into those massive black eyes without fear. She would not be intimidated by the self important Jedi.
“She’s right.” Steven spoke for the first time since they’d returned. “Konshu and I would just get in the way.” His voice sounded off, but she couldn’t put her finger on how.
Konshu looked at him for a moment, then to everyone’s surprise, nodded. “The wor- he and I will stay here. I should trust you to do something as simple as steal a ship.”
That had been resolved quicker than Layla could’ve hoped for. She glanced at Mission. “I don’t want you coming to Davik’s estate, but I think you can help us get the codes.”
The young Twi’lek was getting to her feet, grinning. “Of course I can.”
“But you’ll be coming right back here afterwards.” Layla warned. Mission didn’t seem to mind that, since she was being trusted to break into a dangerous military base. She didn’t feel underestimated.
Layla really wanted to sleep before beginning, but knew they didn’t have time. She glanced at Steven who was watching Konshu with the strangest look on his face. It wasn’t fear or curiosity. She hadn’t thought he could look so cold.
As Mission and Zaalbar prepared, she went over to him and spoke quietly. “Are you alright? Will you be alright with him?”
Dark eyes flicked to her face, surprise registered. It took him a moment to respond, as if talking were difficult. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. All better.” His smile wasn’t the usual, nervous one. It was strained in an entirely different way. “Good luck, Layla.”
She smiled and touched his arm, blinking when he stiffened instead of leaning into the touch like he usually would. “We’ll be back for you both soon. And Mission will be back earlier, so you won’t be alone with him the whole time.” Layla could’ve sworn he’d started to roll his eyes and stopped himself. Instead of speaking again, he just nodded.
***
As soon as the door closed behind them, Jake stood up out of the chair Steven had been curled up in. The body was still sore from the escape pod crash and exhausted from their eventful day. While Jake was more than used to physical discomfort, he wasn’t used to the mental strain of being co-conscious for so long. He couldn’t trust Steven to not get himself in trouble without someone looking over his shoulder. Jake was determined to look out for Steven and the body until Marc was better. If he ever got better. No. Not thinking about that. That is not a possibility.
“The worm is gone, I take it?” Konshu spoke, sounding bored.
“For now. He’ll be back. And his name is Steven, imbécil. Try using it.” Jake crossed his arms glaring up at the tall Jedi.
Konshu shook his massive head. “You are not who I wish to speak with. Where is Marc Spector?” His face was impossible to read, but his voice conveyed a good deal of emotion. He was getting irritated.
“Marc is unavailable. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Why is that?” Konshu sighed.
“The brain damage and force shock had to be handled by someone.” And the stupid, self sacrificing, guilt ridden Marc had taken it on himself entirely, denying Jake the opportunity to do his fucking job. He was still furious about it
“Then, if you are not Marc Spector, are you aware of what he promised in exchange for me saving your wasted lives?”
“Yeah. I was there.” Here was the awkward part, one of the many reasons he wished Marc would just please wake up. “Unfortunately, I don’t know how they got to the Starfordge. I don’t even really know what it is.”
“The Jedi council of Dantooine will punish you for your actions, if you cannot give any insight toward defeating Ammit!” Konshu snapped, shoving his beak far too close to Jake’s face. He didn’t allow himself to flinch at the invasion of his personal space.
“I never said I- we couldn’t help.” Jake told him through gritted teeth. “Steven helped her and Marc find it the first time. He can do it again.” Marc would hate this plan. It wasn’t what he’d wanted for Steven, not what he’d told Jake to do during those last moments of consciousness, but Marc wasn’t here to fix it.
“So, ask the wor- Steven Grant where it is.” His voice dripped with contempt when he said Steven’s name, his tone overly patient.
Awkward part number two. “He doesn’t know either.” Several small items scattered around the apartment fell over or were thrown back, away from where they stood, as Konshu’s temper spiked. “Woah there, that’s not very on code of you.” Jake felt a cocky grin tugging his lips and suppressed it with difficulty. “Marc did… something to him.” And if I try to undo it, he might break… He wouldn’t be saying that out loud. “You wouldn’t understand it.”
“I was told that he is clueless as to your identity when the medical team released you to our custody on the Endar Spire. Apparently, when things were explained to him, he did not remember any of the conversations minutes later. I admit, I was not convinced of it until I tried to touch his mind.”
“Right.” Jake said through gritted teeth. He’d been fronting for the entire recovery period, desperately suppressing Steven. “Well, I’m 80% sure with a few… nudges, he’ll be up to finding his way again. It started on Dantooine. Take him there.”
Konshu let out a long sigh. It lasted long enough to be humorous, considering how much air his lungs could hold. “The council will have questions. And doubts. As do I.” He stepped back and Jake relaxed a fraction. “We shall try this… foolish idea of yours, but remember this: none of you would be alive without me. I bound you to me, kept you alive when you were facing the end you had so richly earned. If this fails, we shall see what happens to your mind if I cut that tie.”
Jake wanted to hit him, but settled for gritting out “I can really see why the council never approved of you.” With that, he stalked back to the chair, sat down in the same position Steven had been in, closed his physical eyes and opened his inner ones.
Back in the room Marc kept whatever was left of his consciousness, Jake found the alters right where he’d left them. Steven had actually fallen asleep, sitting on the floor with his head resting on the cot and one hand laying on Marc’s knee. Marc was resting more peacefully than usual and Jake wished he didn’t have to disturb the scene. Shaking off both sentiment and loneliness, he walked over and poked Steven hard with his toe.
“Oi! What was that for?!” The other man jerked awake, wiping drool off his chin and glaring up at Jake.
“Don’t be a bitch; that didn’t hurt. It’s time for you to go.”
Steven’s brown knit, looking equal parts confused and irate. “I don’t want to. I’m needed here.” He wanted to stay with the sleeping man until he felt better, wanted to wait for those eyes to open so they could talk. He really, really needed to talk to the sleeper, he knew. But he didn’t know how he knew.
Jake hauled him upright by the shirt and dragged him to one of the walls. “Don’t let that stupid bird push you around. Wake up.”
He shoved Steven through the wall, but the other managed to say “Jake, don-” before he was gone. Jake felt ice enter his veins. Steven wasn’t supposed to know his name. Marc had made sure he wouldn’t know either of them. With a groan, he went to sit by Marc’s sleeping inner self. Surely he could trust Steven to sit in the apartment alone for a while. He just needed to rest his mind for a few moments…
***
“I’m back!” Mission’s voice brought Steven out of sleep.
“Have you any news?” Konshu rumbled as Steven sat up, running his fingers through his hair. He tried to remember his dream. It hadn’t been one of the usual ones… Someone in pain? The feelings slipped out of his reach as Mission threw herself into a chair beside him.
“They’ve got the codes. Layla says to sit tight.”
“Codes?” Steven asked blankly. “Sorry, but where’s Layla?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Konshu shaking his head.
Mission gave him an odd look. “They went to steal the ship? Remember?”
He didn’t. He had no clue. The last thing he remembered was Layla telling him to rest while she went for a walk. How long had he been asleep?
“Steven? Are you okay?” She asked, worried.
“Yes. Of course. I just… I was still half asleep.” He said quickly. His memory problems were getting worse all the time, it seemed. He would’ve thought he’d be able to focus in such dangerous circumstances, but his brain was always betraying him.
“If you’re sure.” Mission didn’t seem entirely convinced. After a few minutes of silence, during which Steven drank a bit of water, Mission began telling him all about the inside of the Sith base she and the others had apparently gone to. Steven tried to keep his expression attentive and free of confusion. He had to ignore the panic that was making his chest tight. Why didn’t he remember volunteering to stay behind? It wasn’t like he’d just slept through the discussion of this plan, he’d blacked out entirely. He was relieved when Mission turned her attention away from him, focusing on Konshu.
“Do you ever use the force just for fun?”
The unnerving skull-like head swung towards her. “What?”
“You know, like trip someone up when they’re ticking you off or-”
“Of course not!”
“How come?” She was unfazed by the Jedi’s indignation.
“We are meant to have enough wisdom to realize that such a petty waste of effort is… childish.” Steven glanced at Konshu. Was he teasing her?
“Is that a crack about my age?” She straightened in her chair. “If you’ve got so much wisdom, why are you still so rude?”
“Wisdom and manners have little correlation when it comes to dealing with-” He paused, seeming to reconsider his choice of words. “I merely have other concerns.” He finished delicately.
Mission grumbled something about old men telling her what to do.
“Unfair. I’m nowhere near as old as he is.” Steven said with feeling.
“How do you know?” She asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Intuition.” He told her flatly.
“If you two are quite done,” Both Konshu and Steven went rigid, the latter's eyes going wide as he looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see through it. “We must go outside!” Konshu ordered loudly. Steven was already on his feet, grabbing the few items they would want to keep.
“What’s going on? What are you two-?” He grabbed Mission by the arm and hauled her out the door. Konshu was right behind them.
They were at the building entrance when the first laser cannon blast hit, six blocks away. Within seconds there were dozens of explosions, people screaming and running, trying to get away from the destruction. Steven was still looking up, eyes wild.
“Th-the blockade is firing on the city!” He yelled to be heard by the other two over the chaos. “How can they- there’s so many people here!”
Konshu had been steering them towards a balcony, using the force to keep a wide enough space around them that neither of his shorter companions would be swept away by the panicked throng. At Steven’s words, he paused for a moment. He looked about to ask something when Steven’s head whipped around.
“Layla’s coming!” He pointed. A small star ship was speeding in their direction, weaving between the buildings.
“How-?” Mission started, but Konshu cut her off.
“It is them.”
The ship couldn’t land on the walkway without possibly crushing someone and the ground was getting increasingly unstable as destruction rained down. The pilot, presumably Layla, instead backed to the balcony as possible, and opened the loading ramp. Steven was about to try and gear himself up to jump the few feet over a certain death drop when there was a mighty shove from behind him and both he and Mission were thrown across the space, well into the ship’s interior. She landed on top of him, which was probably for the best because he could tell his whole side would be black and blue from hitting the metal flooring so hard.
Konshu came rushing up the ramp, roaring that they were all on board. His voice, unpleasantly loud at the best of times, filled the whole ship. The door shut and the ship accelerated upwards. The sounds of destruction were still loud in their ears. Steven squirmed out from under Mission and lurched to his feet. It took a few minutes of running around to find which hall led to the cockpit, but when he got there, he saw Layla in the pilot’s seat, face grim.
“They’re bombing the city to ash!” She gritted out, eyes too bright and fixed on the sky before them.
Steven looked out the window, helpless rage filling his being. So many people were dying at that moment, he knew. The knowledge was so clear he could’ve sworn he felt their lives being snuffed out.
“They- they can’t do this.” He whispered.
“It is not the first time. It will not be the last.” Konshu spoke from behind them. He was bent almost double. At first Steven thought he was trying to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, but no, the Jedi was clutching his chest as if he were in pain. “The Sith, with Ammit as their leader, will do this again and again until they are destroyed.”
Steven forced himself to look out the window again and, for the first time in his life, really understood the desire, the need, to kill someone. Some people were just too evil to exist.