Time and Remembrance

[Michael Cline]

*His vision was blurred, his mouth dry, and there was an impossibly obnoxious thrumming in his skull. Michael Cline, former darkside adept, and as far as he was aware the personal assistant of Ms. Sasseeri Reeouurra found himself slumping against a grim, and disgusting alley wall, most likely staining his perfectly tailored suit.* T...the frell? *The words came out in a rasping cough, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He'd ran into... an old associate, had a confrontation and then... what? That was it. That was the extent of his memory. His 'brother' had assaulted him, there were brutal words tossed back and forth between them, a fight ending with him choking for air as his world went dark and then... this. This alley. No sign of the other boy, no idea how long he had been out, or what had happened in the time after he had gone under. His hands went to his pockets, searching for his belongings, he needed to get into contact with his employer immediately. Ms. Sasseeri was not especially patient.

Passionate, driven, amazing, but not patient. And as he scrambled through his quite obviously empty pockets, the realization dawned on him that this situation was far worse than he'd initially thought. Everything of value on him, from communication devices, to credit chits was absent. This was going to be a mark on his record, without a doubt.*

Of course... *he mumbled darkly to himself, vision starting to return as the ringing in his head dulled* of frelling course.

*Wobbly, he found the exit to the dimly-lit alleyway and raised his hands to shield his eyes from the artificial lighting, or what passed for it this far down on Coruscant. At least he recognized the neighborhood. He'd been to a restaurant here on behalf of Ms Sasseeri earlier in the day. He simply needed to return and use their commlink to get ahold of someone and explain what had happened. It wouldn't look good, explaining he had been assaulted and robbed, but he had no good alternative. At least there were a few blocks left to work on figuring out what precisely had happened to him... or would be if his eyes hadn't been drawn down the street. The very street he was certain he had come down earlier that day, alive and busy with activity at the time. All but deserted. His lips came together as he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck, something was very wrong with what he was seeing.*

... That's... not right.

*It came out much shakier than he'd have meant it to, though he hardly cared as he pushed the sunglasses up off his nose to rest in his hair. He was standing in front of the very restaurant he had eaten lunch at, he was sure of that. The windows were boarded, the door broken and battered from disrepair, and he could only assume looting. This didn't happen in an afternoon. It didn't happen in a day, or a week or even a month. This was... years of disarray. Panic started to set in his heart, looking up and down the street, sure he was missing something obvious, he was on the wrong level, or this was some kind of a gag that he simply wasn't getting the punchline to. The sound of footsteps interrupted his panic and he turned to see someone strolling down the street in his direction. He stepped towards them, voice trembling*

Pardon me... do you know the date?

[Damon Void]

1 or 0. 1 or 0. It was simply nature's law. Alive or dead. Active. Inactive. Worthwhile or worthless. Damon Void was a 1, as alive as any so-called person ever has been, for Damon Void was free. Oh sure, he was stuck here on Coruscant, hub of the Imperial machine, but where it mattered, man, he was free. In every system, in every terminal, any device that he could code, he could break. It was rare for him to leave his 'lab' down here in the slums of Coruscant, which was exactly where he wanted to be if you were truly free. You go far enough down, not even Imperials wanna be here, and with the right systems in place, you can turn an abandoned apartment complex into a fortress.

Oh sure, there had been attempts to break in, always some low-life looking for a place to crash or get high in. He'd turned it into something of a game. See how many floors of his building they could get through, how many traps, how many systems until they broke down and left, or just became part of the scene, another body to be forgotten. But even digital gods needed to eat, man, so he was on one of his rare trips from his abode when the red-hair rushed him, looking as out of place in an area like this as anyone could. And what a stupid question, who didn't know the date, just check your comm, or frell, anything else digital for that matter. What didn't have a clock these days?

"Get a watch." He smirked back, trying to push past, only for the red-head to stop him, gripping his arm with far more insistence, and honest strength than he was used to. Another reason he hated to go outside, there wasn't as much he could control up here.

"Come on, please answer the question." He heard the nothing whine.

What a pathetic little worm. Really needing someone to tell him the date? Whatever, he didn't have time for this. He wasn't about to waste time on some 0. He pulled free of the grip and fished through his pocket. He always had a million little gadgets in his pockets, slicing tools, both digital and physical. Knives, screwdrivers, pliers. He considered pulling one of the blades, and instead grabbed a small, out-dated data pad, he had dozens of these, he burnt through them like paper trying to brute force systems. This one didn't have anything important on it, couple of news sites, imperial propaganda and of course, like anything else should, a calendar and clock. He tossed it at the red-head.

"Here, first ones free." he snapped, and spun, not wanting to waste anymore time on the street, he had a kingdom to get back to, data to crack and steal and maybe a few holo games to get in. He didn't have time for distractions from e-waste like this, he mumbled to himself as he headed back down the street. The sooner he was home, the better. Nothing but crazies, losers and zeroes up top.

[Michael Cline]

*That had been a truly unpleasant experience, and exactly the type of riff-raff that Cline had once been. Wrapped up in his own little world, convinced of his own superiority and worried about nothing but himself. The other boy had been almost familiar to him just because of how similar he'd seemed to what Michael used to be like. Hell, in another world, he could have mistaken him for himself. Still it had gotten him something, a data pad, beaten and broken as it was, at least would get him the information he needed, so after a moment of being certain that the boy was down the street and not coming back he turned to the little device, tabbing through it until he got to the calendar, and his eyes focused on what he read, mouth going dry at the same time*

That. That is impossible.

*He flipped to a news site saved on the device, checking the dates for the stories posted, then to any program files he could find and their modification dates. He spent 10 minutes looking for something, anything that proved what he was seeing wrong, and finally felt his knees give out, collapsing to a sitting position as he stared at the screen, as broken as the device was.*

Five years. FIVE YEARS?! *He covered his mouth, not wanting to attract even more attention than he already had, if there even was any to attract in a slum like this. How was that possible? The panic was in full-swing now, his mind burning through every situation, every possibility and then snapping to one name. Ms. Sasseeri. He had vanished for five years, and he could figure out how later, right now the panic turned into soul-numbing fear. He had vanished for five years without a word to his employer, an employer who possessed the resources to have him disappear a lot longer than that, and in a much more painful manner. He had to get ahold of her, had to... had to run. He had to run, didn't he? He was probably written off years ago, and even passing her on the street may be enough to warrant a death sentence.

He looked off in the direction of the boy, who had seemed so familiar and wanted to cry. That may as well have been him walking, now. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd started to accomplish, to fix in his life was gone. He was going to be little more than a homeless nothing on the street, again. Just like when Ky had found him, just like when Ms. Sasseeri had found him. His temper flared, vision darkening and felt the datapad sizzle and crack in his grip as he snapped it in half. He'd done everything right this last time, and now he was going to lose it all at no fault of his own? It wasn't fair! IT WASN'T FAIR.

There had to be a way out of this, something. To at least have a chance to explain himself to Ms. Sasseeri, but he'd never even get close. It had been too long, he was persona non grata to her, and most likely the rest of the Black Sun. He blinked a bit, but there was an angle there, wasn't there? The Black Sun, its members were always looking for a way to look good, move up the food chain or just score some points. Hell that'd been what he'd wanted, to look good for Ms. Sasseeri. So all he had to do was convince someone else to get him to Ms. Sasseeri for their own benefit.

They'd be returning her property. It would be her call if she wanted him dead or alive, but he'd at least have a chance to explain himself. He stood up, straightening his suit and tie, slipping the sunglasses from his hair to his eyes and pushing them back in place. If his options were to go back to being the same worthless, homeless nobody that he had been, or risk his life at a chance at keeping the life he craved. Then the choice was clear. He was already walking towards the more civilized levels of Coruscant even as he started going over what he'd need to say, who he'd need to call. He had it all thought through by the time he got someplace with a Commlink he could borrow, and dialed. He breathed in deep, holding his breath as he waited for someone to pick up. He could only hope this was still a number that Kal Olorin used.*

[Kal Olorin]

The comm buzzed for a bit, and I fumbled the lamp off the nightstand trying to find it. I managed to catch the lamp by the cord before it hit the ground, and then eased it down gently to the carpet as my commlink rattled in the drawer. I retrieved it and answered with a yawning, "Olorin." What the hell time was it, anyway?

[Michael Cline]

Olorin.

*He was quiet a moment, everything he'd practiced and planned on saying immediately vanishing from his thoughts as the man actually picked up, before he was able to steady himself and, taking a deep breath start talking.*

Mr. Olorin, this is Michael Cline. I need your help.

*He waited for a response, unsure of exactly what he should expect on the other end, but steadying himself for the worst.*

[Kal Olorin]

I scrunched my eyes closed, then rubbed them and stared at the blurry chrono on the nightstand. "Are you sure? That you're Cline? Or that you need help?

"Well, if you are then you would, I guess." I yawned.

[Michael Cline]

*He had been anticipating just about any response, save that one. The yawn, though soft, gave away at least part of the problem. Michael hadn't considered just what time it was. He'd only just come to, afterall, and it hadn't really been the issue he'd been most interested in. Not in the face of losing five years of his life.*

Yes, Mr. Olorin, I'm very certain I'm Michael Cline. I'm also certain I need help, or at least I believe I do. *He weighed his words for a moment before continuing* Can you confirm something for me though? Before I continue with what I promise is going to sound like a completely insane claim, it has been five years, hasn't it?

*He had to rule out the possibility that he had been mistaken, if nothing else than to cement the reality of his situation in his own mind.*

[Kal Olorin]

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, shoving myself into a sitting position and leaning against the quilted headboard. The woman next to me rolled over and groaned softly, expressing her displeasure at my middle of the night conversation. I reluctantly got up and walked to the suite's sitting room, staring out the porthole at the stars beyond.

"Look, before you say anything, you got out, kid. Good for you. Are you sure you want back in?" I scratched at my chest.

[Michael Cline]

*He sighed at the confirmation, actively cursing under his breath, until Kal said the next words 'he was out'. He considered that idea in his head for a bit, options weighing on him again, and he just as quickly dismissed it as before. He didn't want 'out' that had never gotten him anywhere*

That's, that's just it, Mr. Olorin. I didn't get out. Here comes the part where I sound crazy. From my perspective this morning I got up and went to the lower parts of Coruscant with Tock, to oversee some of Ms. Sasseeri's assets... I don't know where I've been for five years. The last thing I remember was blacking out, and then nothing before today.

*The reality was starting to sit in, and saying it out loud made a chill run up his spine, there was panic creeping into his voice, and real fear* How is that even possible... *He half mumbled to himself, half said out loud*

[Kal Olorin]

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the couch. "You got one thing right - that does sound crazy. So, are you on Coruscant then?"

[Michael Cline]

Yeah... *He sighed a bit, chewing at his bottom lip* I'm on level 1312. Sitting outside a rather seedy looking club called The Sweating Hutt.

*He glanced up at the broken sign that marked the location, the 'SW' in Sweating having dimmed and broken, leaving the name displayed as only "eating Hutt" if this were any other time, he'd probably have gotten a good laugh at that*

[Kal Olorin]

"Well, you're in luck, Sassy isn't even in town. Either am I, for that matter. Your old apartment is empty, I think, but someone was living there until a few months ago." I yawned again, unable to help myself, and poured a finger of whiskey into a glass and downed it. Better. "If you have any money get a flight to Chandrila, my ride is docking there in a few days."

[Michael Cline]

*He had to admit, he'd expected this all to go a different direction, probably due to his own inflated ego and figuring that even now someone would have been in route to bring him in, or take him down, or something else to fit a cliche he'd imagined in his head. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. At any rate he had more time now to start trying to piece together what had happened, at least a few days while he figured out some way to get to Chandrila to intercept Olorin. He fished his pockets for the data pad he'd been given earlier, grateful that he'd at least be able to get some information stored as far as where he needed to meet Olorin, only to pull back a bleeding finger, cut on the broken halves of the device.

Right, he'd snapped it apart in his frustration. Well, that certainly made this more difficult. He'd have to figure it out along the way, then.*

Chandrila. *He repeated back* I'll find some way to get there. Anything else I should know? I am a little out of the loop as far as things go.

[Kal Olorin]

"Well," I said slowly, still half convinced this was some sort of elaborate practical joke. "You should probably find a holonet node and read up on some recent events. Frell, Cline, am I really your first call after what, five years of being in a coma or something? Do you have family anywhere?"

[Michael Cline]

*He breathed in sharply at the question. Family... was a sensitive subject for Cline. He rolled his tongue against the enamel of his teeth for a few moments before bothering to answer.* They're dead. *He finally breathed the response into the comm link.* Have been since before my apparent disappearing act, and the one former-friend I had left, is either potentially responsible for all of this, or dead himself. I have no idea where he would be in either case.

So yeah, you're the first call I've made. Because my options are to end up back as the gutter trash I was when Ms. Sasseeri found me originally, picking pockets for my next meal, or find some way to Chandrila to meet with you, and hope that Ms. Sasseeri is in an especially forgiving mood. *His temper flared at the idea of ending up on the street again, and he forced himself to calm down, the last thing he needed to do was snap at the only 'lifeline' he had left.*

The truth, sir, is I would very much rather die than go back to the nobody I was.

[Kal Olorin]

"Ookay," I said, wracking my brain for what I remembered about Cline. Not enough apparently. Hey, five years was a long time, don't judge me. "I think your accounts are inactive but still in one piece. Give me a few minutes and try a terminal, if you remember the numbers or have your card on you? I'll reactivate your employee account and transfer some credits into it. There might still be some in there from five years ago, but if you disappeared in the middle of a job then they were probably cleaned out."

I paused, then added awkwardly, "Hang in there kid. Get a ticket to Chandrila and we'll see what needs to be done next. And get yourself checked out by a 2-1B or something. I'm on the Morning Star, should be easy enough to find where the shuttles are landing if you go to Hanna City."

[Michael Cline]

*He tried not to sound as relieved at just how much help Kal was offering him as he probably did come across on the phone, but he finally felt like he had some breathing space. He'd have enough to work with, at least, to get checked over by a 2-1B, and hop a flight for Chandrila, and if he could get back to the apartment he had at one time operated from, he could get a night's rest as well. He rubbed the bridge of his eyes, leaning forward as he spoke*

Thank you, Mr. Olorin, I really can't thank you enough. I owe you in a huge way. *It was probably a debt that would end up being cashed in, as well, but he'd cross that bridge when it came* I'll see you in a few days.

*He hung up the Comm-Link and leaned forward on the stoop, letting out a breath. That had gone far better than he'd expected. He mentally began checking a list in his head. First he needed to get into his accounts and acquire the credits that Kal had been helpful enough to provide him with, then to book transport off Coruscant for Chandrila, hopefully leaving later in the morning so that he would have time to complete the rest of his list.

The first stop after booking the transport was to a 2-1B droid, make sure everything was where it should be. Five years had past after all, and it would be a very good idea to make sure there wasn't something even worse to worry about than his missing time. The second would be to get a hot meal somewhere, as he had quickly begun to realize that he was frelling starving, and finally to head to the apartment that Olorin had opened back up to him and get at least a quick nap in before he had to leave, as every muscle in his body still felt like it was on fire, frankly.

He forced himself to his feet and started down the street to complete the tasks he'd put in front of himself, he was going to get his damned life back, even if it killed someone.*