The Molting Cicada

[Ireen Cole]

With cruel speed, the shuttle left, engines glaring. When it was but a pinprick of light, it dove, knifing into the atmosphere. It was a world of great steely blue oceans, expansive blushing continents, and vibrant swathes of green; it was a healthy world, and, as far as Ireen was concerned, it was a nameless world. She watched from the viewport as the last survivors of the Eris Latombe Orphanage of Nashal embarked on a new life together. They would play in fields under bright blue skies, they would make new friends, they would grow old and have families of their own. She wondered if they would keep in touch with each other.

The guards kept their distance, and borne their weapons with lethargy; she was of little interest to either of them, and even less of a threat. Once she’d answered every question, Ireen was assigned personal quarters and a security detail of her own. To begin with, the proximity of new weapons in new hands had put her on edge, forever wondering when, if ever, those lazy trigger fingers would awake. The questions had been answered in a similar state of panic, with the words vomit tumbling from her lips in an incoherent mess. But, by the time she was able to accurately relate the tale of the orphanage to her captors, Ireen had come to accept her inevitable end. She only hoped that, when it happened, it would be quick.

Still, she waited.

On the third day, she washed, and dressed in borrowed clothes. Scoff was snoring on her bed when she left her room. Though the corridors lacked the heavy glare of Imperial white, the floor was just as unremarkable. Nobody would meet her gaze, she decided. She would not be looked at in the way she had looked at Doctor O. If she closed her eyes, and listened to the steady clip of booted feet behind her, she could be back on Nashal. The only thing that had changed was the colour of her cage. What were they waiting for?

She opened her eyes. The speck of light was gone and the nameless world was still. Reflected in the immaculate tranparisteel she recognised a familiar face. The leader. She would call her bluff and be done with it.

“If you’re not going to kill me, let me go.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Perhaps I wish to slice a small piece off of you every day until you beg me for the release of death," Lilaena said mildly. She nodded to the Mandalorian guards and they returned the gesture, turning and leaving the pair alone in the passage.

"What would you do, if you were released? Where would you go, that the Empire and their Knights would not find you eventually?" The Dark Jedi master kept her voice carefully neutral, as if she were merely talking about the weather. This Ireen Cole was complicit in the worst of crimes - experimentation on Force sensitive children - but she had been coerced, and blackmailed into participating. She still held a deep concern for the fate of her family; their lives were held in the balance by the Empire, and if she was not found among the wreckage of the lab under the orphanage it was really anyone's guess what the Empire would assume.

Why was she keeping Ireen alive? Because she deserved the same choices that Lilaena gave to all Force users she came across? She had already made some choices that would condemn her in any court of law, but there was something... something that made Lilaena stay her hand. Perhaps it was the way she had interacted with the children, her obvious compassion for them despite the horrors she was responsible for.

[Ireen Cole]

Home.

It was the answer on the tip of her tongue. It was the word around which all other thoughts orbited. It was, Ireen suspected, the bait at the heart of a vast web, a web in which this spider had ensnared every eventuality with the most casual of questions. She suspected this because, no sooner had she considered her answer, than she herself was made painfully aware of the obvious truth: there were no uncertain destinations down that road. She could never see her family again.

She stifled a gasp. Shallow beaths. She would not spend her last moments a quivering mess.

"There is half a galaxy beyond the Empire's reach," she said, suddenly understanding the difference between belief and faith, "I can start again."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"There is half a galaxy that is politically beyond the Empire's reach," said Lilaena, a bit of steel in her voice. "You would be wise to know the difference between something that is impossible, and something that is merely more difficult than it was before."

They stood facing each other in the passage, and she folded her arms across her chest. She was wearing clothes in the style of the Jedi, a moss green tunic with black accents, obi belt and pants to match. There was a black cloak to match, but it was a bit much for inside the ship. Ireen was intimidated enough without throwing on a hood and intoning about the powaas of the daaark side or anything like that.

"You could go to the Jedi." Lilaena raised an eyebrow. "You know you have some potency in the Force. They could take you in and train you in their ways." Her green eyes sharpened, intensity rising as she stared at the girl. The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, a trick of the Force making the atmosphere oppressive and limiting. "Or you can remain here, and explore the full potential of the Force." She dismissed the heaviness of the air with an absent wave of her hand, granting relief.

[Ireen Cole]

Ireen's gaze drifted from empty space to empty space, as if she would be able to see the uneasy pressure as it receeded back into whatever gloom it emerged from. Of course, she could see nothing, but the presence had been so real, like the hand of some giant heavy upon her shoulder, that she really wouldn't have been surprised if she had seen something. It wasn't until things returned to normal that she even realised the woman had spoken to her: she was offering her a choice, but her actions spoke more clearly than any words could.

"Why did you do that?" Ireen asked, prickling with anger, "Are you trying to frighten me? Is that it?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Ireen, if you're not already frightened, then you haven't been paying attention." Lilaena let a trace of a smile filter through before she tightened her lips.

[Ireen Cole]

"My life, as I know it, is over." Ireen heard her voice crack, so she took a moment. She shook her head. "I'm a little past the point of fear, right now."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"What do you think I should do with you, then?" Lilaena asked. "You were complicit in atrocious crimes against the innocent. Why do you think that you are still alive to have this conversation with me?"

[Ireen Cole]

"What you shoud do with me?" Ireen repeated, incredulous. Questions bubbled to the surface, but she was grasping at the dark, with nothing but smoke for answers. Her eyes narrowed in a challenge. "I don't even know who you are."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"If you haven't grasped by now that I am the leader of an army of highly skilled Mandalorians and Force users, then there may be no hope for you," she said, clearly irritated. "You're a smart girl, Ireen, and you know what the Empire was doing ...what you were doing to those children. You wonder why I spared your life? To give you a chance to right the wrongs you've committed.

"You've been very forthcoming with what information you know, and I do appreciate that. It makes this an easier choice for me - whether to abandon you to the galaxy and probably the Empire's embrace, or to take you under my wing, so to speak. You said your life is over; I say that it's just beginning. Your new life starts now, here, in this ship."

Lilaena took a breath, and let her irritation slip to the background for the moment. "Do you want to join me, and make sure that something like your little lab of horrors never happens again? We can train you to use your latent abilities. But the choice... is yours."

[Ireen Cole]

There was still a part of Ireen that doubted, that waited for the other shoe to drop, for the click of a blaster trigger - it was no more than she deserved - but, despite her doubts, there was also a part of her that knew she did not want to anger this strange woman before her. It was the part that wanted to live. Yes, it existed, and it kept her from insulting the proposal with another question.

"Well, Miss... Leader of an Army of Highly Skilled Mandalorians and Force Users, I am grateful for your offer - really, I am - but... I'm not a soldier."

Even as the words tumbled out, she winced.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"My name is Lilaena De'Ville," she said, not for the first time to Ireen. It had been...chaotic in the Orphanage, of course, but the scientist's response was a bit too sarcastic to take at face value. "And I'm shocked to learn that you are not a soldier!" Two could play this game.

"I don't need more soldiers, Ireen. Are you trying to tell me that you're not interested in trying to make up for what you've done?" There was a dangerous edge to her voice.

[Ireen Cole]

"I didn't say that," Ireen began. For all the rhetoric about a new life, it was becoming plain how little choice she actually had. The walls were closing in around her. This Lilaena woman presumed to appoint herself not only as judge and jury, but also rehabilitation officer - it was the natural progression, Ireen supposed, when one became the leader of an army of mercenaries. To take issue with her ways was about as pointless as bemoaning the setting sun - in the end, they will both do as they please.

"If you think there is something that I can do to help you and... your people, then I will do it." She recalled the sterile smell of the operating room and the gleam of cutting tools. "Within reason."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"That is all I ask," Lilaena replied. "You will not get your freedom immediately - I do not sense duplicity from you, but even so you will have a guard for the time being. You may go anywhere on this ship except for the bridge and the engine rooms."

She paused, and added, "Do you want to be trained in the use of the Force? You have the gift."

[Ireen Cole]

"Uh... sure."

The answer squeaked like a mouse, daring to peak out from its hole. And, though Ireen stumbled over her words, inside she was dancing. For the longest time, she had known - there were only so many times the scientific mind could willfully ignore the evidence before their eyes, no matter how outlandish - but she never thought she'd actually meet someone who could take this mystery, and help her unravel it. On an intellectual level, the promise of discovery was thrilling, on a personal level, she was as giddy as a school girl. A galaxy of possibilities awaited, and she was ready to dive straight in - but she stopped herself.

Was this what she feared? The glimmer of hope before the end? Could anyone be that cruel?

The panic shaped her eyes into moons. Breathless, she said, "Really?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena's eyebrow quirked up a bit at the scientist's reaction, and she said, "Yes, really. The best way you can help - yourself, or future children the Empire will hurt - is to learn how to unlock your full potential. And I will help you do that, in exchange for your cooperation."

[Ireen Cole]

"My full potential," Ireen repeated, distracted momentarily by exactly what that might mean. She had heard the stories and, after the events at the orphanage, she had seen first-hand the sort of talent Lilaena and her kind possessed. Lightswords were cool and all, but Ireen had difficulty picturing herself with something like that. But she was getting ahead of herself, and when she dislodged herself from those drifting thoughts, she offered Lilaena a wisp of a smile.

"Okay. So, what do I do?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Have an open mind," she said. "The Force is a mystical energy that surrounds and binds everything in the galaxy. We are all connected to each other and to our surroundings with it. Adepts can learn how to manipulate the Force in order to change the reality of things around them.

"Walk with me," Lilaena said, and it was not a question. She started off down the passageway, and Ireen followed. "To start with, think of what you are good at. Are you unusually lucky, or unlucky? Good with computers?"

[Ireen Cole]

"I know my way around a computer terminal. Sure. But that has nothing to do with luck and everything to do with my aversions to sunlight and fresh air."

Ireen's lips thinned, it was more of a wince than a smile. Not that it mattered: Lilaena wasn't troubling herself to look over her shoulder or accommodate her less certain steps. And she was difficult enough to read as it was. What did she expect from her? Laced fingers snapped apart as she renewed her pace.

"I don't have any interesting anecdotes to share about hidden talents and, as a scientist, I don't put much stock in the mystical at any rate. But... I have a certain... intuition." Her tongue rolled over parched lips, a pause to season her words with taste, "In my field of work, imagination is a rare gift, it is the essence of discovery. And it sounds like I'm going to need it."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"And what is it you have done with this... intuition?" asked De'Ville, slowing her pace to make sure Ireen kept up.

[Ireen Cole]

"I have made significant advancements in my field of research," she said, somewhat forcefully, as if she could drive home the importance of her achievements. And then, diminishing, she added, "It is the reason why I was taken by the Empire. My intuition allows me to see doors where most only see walls."

Now in step with Lilaena, she cast her a sideways glance, "That sounds like the Force, right?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She nodded. "It does." Lilaena looked at Ireen as they walked together. "I have copies of other Imperial research projects that I have...come across. I would like you to look them over, see what your intuition tells you about them. Perhaps they can be useful, or perhaps not. Maybe the information can be reworked in some way."

She stopped walking, and pressed her hand against a set of door controls. The door slid open, revealing a set of officers quarters. "Holonet access is limited to download only. I am sure you can circumvent the firewalls, but I have some talent in slicing and I will know if you tamper with it. These are your rooms."

[Ireen Cole]

Well, that was unexpected. Ireen took a tentative step forward, and peeked inside. There was a large bed, with space on both sides. There was space everywhere. A footlocker and some fancy cabinets, an adjoining room, which was, presumably, the fresher, and sure enough, there was a work space, with her very own computer terminal. Her mouth fell open.

"Oh, wow. This is sooo much more than I had expected. I mean, I was happy with the box room I was in..." Suddenly, she snapped upright, and turned owlish eyes on Lilaena, "Not that I'm not grateful. I am grateful. Honestly, I'm just relieved you're not blasting me out of an airlock. Is that air con!? Oh, my gosh! Scoff is going to love this place!"

Ireen clapped with excitement, and, giddy, she tore her attention away from her new quarters for a second time. Hands clasped, she regarded Lilaena again, and all of the silliness melted away.

"Thank you, Lilaena. I don't deserve this, but I will earn it."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Yes," she said, without menace, "You will."

Lilaena regarded the space she'd given to the scientist, and met her eyes again. "Your ...Scoff... will be delivered to you shortly. I'm not going to tell you to keep it in your room, but make sure it isn't running wild in the ship. My Mando'ade may try to eat it." A trace of a smile crossed her face, though it was only half a joke. "In the morning, report to the main medical bay. Draylshy'a will put you to work." The young Mandalorian woman who served as the ship's doctor was incredibly smart, and pairing the two together would probably be good for them both. Along with Mirshe, the chief engineer, Draylshy'a had manufactured and overseen the transfer of De'Ville's former apprentice, Hawkins Grime, into his new exoskeleton (http://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?21485-Scales-of-the-Basilisk-(complete)) a year or so ago.

The Mandalorians were used to second hand equipment, refurbished a hundred times, and their ship was no different - an old Hammerhead class that they had put together themselves. They had some who were skilled in robotics, having maintained their basilisk droids for centuries over generations, and many more had learned what they needed in order to keep the Aranar in flying condition.

[Ireen Cole]

The next day, Ireen rose early. That in itself was uncharacteristic of her, but all night, her stomach had roiled with a cocktail of the fear of the unknown and an eagerness to impress. She dressed simple, and appropriate for a medical bay. Her hair was tied back because it was always tied back. Typically, when she worked, Scoff was loathe to join her, however, following Lilaena's warning the day before, she wasn't prepared to let him out of her sight. A sharp snap of the fingers and an I-mean-it glare was enough to persuade him to flop from the bed and waddle to her side. She imagined they made for a peculiar sight as they passed the armoured men and women, and the hard-faced officers in uniform. Ireen didn't wish to appear timid, but her arms might as well have been glued to her sides the whole time. Scoff grunted and kept close whenever someone walked by.

It wasn't difficult to find the medical bay - it only took forty minutes without asking for directions - and she was still early. The doors gasped open, and Ireen stepped inside.

"Hello?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Draylshy'a looked up from where she was sewing up a cut on Hel's shoulder, the acolyte sitting stoically and watching while the needle passed in and out of her flesh. "Ah, hello." She smiled, her brown eyes friendly. "I'll be with you in a moment."

There was an ancient medical droid in the corner, it's original designation lost to time. Draylshy'a called it Duck, that is what her mentor had called it, and his mentor before him. It turned it's head to watch Ireen as she walked further into the clean and tidy medical bay.

[Ireen Cole]

Ireen smiled and gave the doctor a small wave of acknowledgement. Scoff took shelter beneath an unoccupied bed while Ireen permitted herself to wander the outskirts of the medical bay, hands clasped behind her back with the composure of a nosy health inspector. The facility was worlds away from her last medical lab, in more ways than one, but then, the absent spectre of Imperial malevolence was a welcome change. It was somehow... homely, in a neat and sterile kind of way.

When she passed by the doctor and her patient, Ireen couldn't help but notice, and recoil a little at the sight of the wound being stitched by hand. It was something she assumed only ever happened in old holovids, and the thought that she herself might have to learn to stitch flesh, like some sort of gruesome seamstress, put her stomach in knots. She couldn't help but wince.

"Yikes. That's quite a wound. What happened?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Hel smiled, a scar on her cheek stretching as she did. "I was too slow in the battle circle. Tiktik got me with her knife."

Draylshy'a tsked, tying off the last stitch. "I am done. Keep it clean, Hel, or I will see you again and you will get bacta."

The warrior bared her teeth. "Then I won't get another pretty scar." She winked at the newcomer, who seemed a little taken aback, and shrugged into her boma skin leather jacket. "Thank you, Draylshy'a." Hel put her fist to her heart, and then prowled out of the medical bay.

The doctor walked to the sink, washing her hands while she talked over her shoulder to the other woman. "You must be Cole. Manda'lor told me you were coming to help?"

[Ireen Cole]

"Manda'lor?" Ireen repeated. The word rang a bell, "Do you mean Lilaena?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Draylshy'a raised an eyebrow as she dried her hands. "Yes. She leads us, Manda'lor is her ...title." The Mandalorian woman turned to face Cole as she pulled the bit of elastic from her brown hair and redid the ponytail. "I have some questions for you." She beckoned the other woman to follow her, and walked over to a small plasteel box marked with a black plus sign.

The twenty-three year old pulled open the top, exposing a layer of modern medical tools and supplies, all carefully packaged. "Tell me what these do."

[Ireen Cole]

"That looks like a portable anabolic stimulator." From the box she lifted an instrument that was fifteen inches long, and light enough to hold in one hand. She gave the top a twist, and half of it detached with a satisfying pop. A second cylinder was removed from the box, and snapped onto the bottom half of the instrument. "Ah! And now it is a dermal regenerator."

At risk of patronising the doctor, Ireen brandished the tool and its detached other half, and explained, "In the field, this facilitates tissue regeneration - torn veins, gashed arteries, damaged nerves, even muscle fibers - buying valuable time to get the patient to surgery. The other one mends simple flesh wounds."

Since the doctor remained silent, Ireen decided to continue, unsure whether she was genuinely interested, or merely testing her knowledge. It wouldn't surprise her to discover the Mandalorians actually preferred Draylshy'a's needlework over modern machines - they took pride in their scars, it seemed. Perhaps they were less partial to nasty infections, so Ireen pointed to a bulkier instrument that had a wide conical appendage.

"Spectral sterilizer. It uses a frequency of radiation to sterilize wounds. You need the proper stand, power supply and computer systems to operate it, though. Next to that, you have a few rolls of cautergauze: it works like normal gauze, except once exposed to tissue, it will apply a deep heat that can will cauterise wounds over time. And it stings like hell."

Finally, Ireen lifted out an instrument that looked a bit like a blaster but with a small screen on top. She aimed it just below the doctor's neck and squeezed the trigger, and from the device came a friendly buzzing voice:

"Humanoid female. Healthy. Collar bone, intact, no evidence of tissue damage or dermal abrasions. Recommended treatment: a big hug and a smile."

Ireen promptly stuffed the tool into the box, and gave a nervous laugh.

"Heh. That's the MedMate 2. It... well, you see what it does."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Draylshy'a picked up the dermal regenerator, turning it over in her hands. "This technology is impressive." She sighed, putting it back into the box. "I have been taught all of the knowledge that my ancestors knew of medicine. Unfortunately the First, those abandoned for dead on Dxun," she explained as an aside, "had only a field medic with them. We learned more from those in the City, but access to proper equipment has never been easy. Now I have this," she gestured at the medical bay and it's rows of emergency beds, "And just Duck to explain it to me."

As it was mentioned, the ancient medical droid lifted it's head. The Mandalorian waved it off, and the droid returned to standby mode. "I do not even know how old he is," she confided in Cole, and smiled. "I can do everything my people need, but it can be done better, and I need to learn as much as I can. You will help me." Draylshy'a added, "I know you are not a medical doctor, Manda'lor told me, but together I am sure we can figure all this out."

[Ireen Cole]

Ireen listened intently to Draylshy'a's story. She welcomed the fleeting insight into the history of these people - sure enough, they dressed like Mandalorians and behaved, well, they behaved as she had always imagined they would. As a child, she read about the Mandalorian warriors and the great civil war; stories of epic battles with ferocious dogfights, and warrior women that rode into battle on great droid beasts, and the marksmen that could take to the skies to rain fire down upon their enemies, it all bubbled to the surface of her thoughts. Manda'lor, she remembered. Of course. There was a flicker of a smile, borne on the wings of childish delight, and of admiration for Draylshy'a, and her simple, yet noble, ambition.

"I'm sure we can, too."

In truth, Ireen sounded more confident than she felt, but the last thing she wanted to do was dampen the doctor's spirits. The logistical challenge of becoming a self-made doctor was a little staggering, but she braced herself with a breath, and dove right in:

"So what kind of learning resources do we have?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"As far as I know, just this." Draylshy'a held up a bulky looking piece of tech. "It's a medical interface visor (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Medical_interface_visor). It will tell you everything you need to know about someone's injuries. Still, some of the commands it suggests are not... easily translated to my current knowledge level." The Mandalorian gestured to the decrepit droid.

"And then there is Duck." She gently set the visor on the table in front of her, almost reverently. Such a piece of tech would have been priceless on Onderon among her people. "If there are other training devices here, I have not discovered them."