A Lesson in Fear

[Orenth]

Run. Hide. Stay away.

They were Orenth's thoughts, but they were not aimed at himself. They were not broadcast either, not pulsed out into the aether. Instead they flowed through him, rippling like shockwaves of electricity down his veins and nerves, coursing through his palm and into the hand wrapped around it.

Orenth ducked and dodged, weaving through the abandoned, destitute corridors. Shen's hand was locked tightly with his, but she was not trailing behind him. This was not Orenth leading her to safety: this was the two of them, perfectly in tune, turning and halting and vaulting over obstacles in perfect unison. The feeling was hard to describe, as the Keeper had not taught him the proper words, or proper concepts. The closest that Orenth's mind could recall was something that the Keeper had shown them once. Sounds. Instruments. Rhythmic sequences played at once, combining into a greater whole. The Keeper had called it music. Harmony.

He squeezed Shen's hand a little tighter.

More of the Keeper's teachings found their way into Orenth's mind. It was like something he and Shen had learned of in recent days, out in the atmosphere of a planet instead of the closed surroundings of their once Home. Orenth had known the word breeze, but had never felt it. Nor had he felt the warmth as the light of a star radiated down upon him, emerging from behind the condensed water vapour in the air. Sunlight. Clouds. He knew the words, and knew the definitions, but only now did he understand.

The thoughts breezed into his mind, teachings from the Keeper to use their surroundings, to move silently, to bend the Force around them for concealment and stealth. More stray thoughts followed in their wake. Being here felt different. It felt wrong. It was not as the Keeper would have intended. He would have not sent them to a place like this; not abandoned them in a place like this. Orenth did not know the name of this world. He did not know their purpose for being here. The Keeper would have told them. The Keeper would have kept them safe. The Keeper would have saved them now, just as he had at their Home.

Saved them from the Monster.

[Shen]

A task turned to crisis that should not be, that was the precarious situation they found themselves. They had been sent to release an asset, to give purpose to the caged, but something had gone wrong. They had failed and were now hunted for their mistake.

This was not due punishment, however. Shen did not wish to believe they had made such a costly error to be placed into a trap of this nature. Orders had came from another, someone new, someone she did not wish to trust but had been instructed to do so. This was their reward, or perhaps the reward had not yet come and rather this was a test by their new conjuror. It was wrong to feel a sense of betrayal at that, those that had taught her did not include such things, but the feeling was there regardless. They had been treated as pawns, expendable, worth little more than fodder by the one who had sent them here. The Keeper wouldn't have allowed such a thing but they had been reassigned, moved, granted to another who did not see their worth.

This resentment was a new emotion and it came unwanted, Shen did not wish to question her superiors - it was not her intention. Those that were responsible must have known the risk, however, knew how mere man would become Monster if even slightly provoked. So they were to blame for yet another new experience for her - Fear. There would be no appreciation for these experiences, of that Shen had made certain to place in her mind; she did not like these emotions, they were not hers to have.

We must seek higher ground.

The projection to her other was not calm, but it did not carry the weight of the frantic messages he conveyed. She would not let the unwanted control her, could not. Attempts to soothe her counterpart were near constant, gentle waves that brushed against his mind and flowed down through her arm o interweave between their fingers.

[Orenth]

Higher ground. A notion easier to propose than to achieve.

Had this been a mission from the Keeper, he would have been here. Not beside them, perhaps, but they would have felt him nearby, and could have drawn confidence and reassurance from it. They would have heard the Keeper's voice, providing them with instructions. He would have directed them through this maze; helped them find their way to safety. He would have been here.

Their new Caretaker did none of those things. Orenth had felt the difference with every word, and every action. At Home, Shen and Orenth had slept in glass rooms, so that they could see each other always; so that the Keeper could watch over them, always. Their new Caretaker did things differently. Shen and Orenth slept in the same room, but it was dark and windowless, with a sunken floor and a bed only for one, surrounded by cramped and angular corridors. They knew better than to ask questions, better than to speak out of turn; but even without answers, Orenth knew the truth of their situation. Things were impermanent. The Caretaker did not expect to keep them in such a manner for long. Perhaps that meant the Keeper would return soon. Perhaps that meant a new Home was being prepared. Orenth felt a forbidden feeling - Hope - at such things, but he knew the truth was likely more bleak. Today confirmed what he had calculated.

The Caretaker does not expect us to live.

Something new - Regret? - surged through him even as the number tumbled from his mind. It was strange and confusing: what reason was there to conceal his thoughts and feelings from Shen? They were two who functioned as one, their minds as entwined as their hands were now. There were no secrets. There was no hiding. Yet he felt the compulsion to. He felt the urge to shield her from his thoughts, to keep his fears from adding fuel to her own. That he had tried to, and wanted to, filled him with an emptiness that he did not like.

The two turned a corner, moving swiftly down an adjoining corridor that came to an abrupt end. A grid of metal replaced a segment of the hard surface of the walls. Vent. His mind conjured the words from the Keeper's teachings. Recessed into duracrete. Behind it, an air duct. Many buildings had those: avenues for air to convect through the levels, avoiding stagnation and helping with the transfer of temperature. Aboard ships, they often doubled as maintenance crawlspaces, providing access to conduits, networks, and pipes. On some worlds, ducts were small - too small even for Shen - but it seemed that the native species of this world were larger than humans. Even Orenth would fit.

Perhaps the Monster wouldn't.

With an emotion that Orenth understood as reluctance, his hand released Shen's, fingers wrapping around the metal grid. The vent cover resisted his efforts to pull it free, so Orenth asked the Force for assistance, wrapping around the materials, feeling the edges of the duracrete void, sheering through the fastenings until the vent could be pulled free. He set the grid down, leaning against the wall beside them, and for a moment allowed his hand to take hold of Shen's again. Words flowed from one to the other: not a question, nor an order, merely an understanding between them.

You will scout. I will follow.

[Shen]

It was a wise course, the most given for success, she had even suggested it; yet, there was hesitation on the edge of the air duct. If she were to go first, it would put the other in harms' way should the Monster find and choose to follow them. She would be unable to assist. Not utterly, but enough that it gave her pause.

Shen's eyes lowered as her vision focused on their joined hands before returning to meet those of her other. While her actions were hesitant, the emotions - still so raw and new - were shared freely. The worry, the concern over his well being over her own. It was the same thought process that had sent her to his side back Home when the one filled with rage had attacked.

There was no time, however. They could hear the Monster's rampage nearing and there was no other option that would suit the both of them.

Yes. I will go.

Her hand releasing his, a spin of her heel that brought her back to the air duct, a quick pull to enter them - the movement was as one, fluid and natural as if it had been practiced hundreds of times before. While they were not made to cower, to run, they had been made to act, to move, and Shen was like water when needed. Training at the hands of the keeper and a lithe frame made navigating the tight space effortless, a hand reaching forward to pull, a shift in hips followed with a push from her legs. The enclosed space went on for far too long and while she attempted to move with minimal noise, the reverberations could not be entirely avoided and they created a cacophony that made it difficult to tell which sounds and vibrations were made of her own efforts than those of her other.

Their hands were no longer clasped, but it was not so with their minds. Every decision to go right rather than left, every dip or compromised path was relayed. They could not move as one here, but Orenth would benefit from every small experience as she attempted to find their way; senses reaching ever before her, probing for an overseeing office, a way to scale and drop down to a catwalk above them, anything to put them from harm's ever real reach.

[Orenth]

Orenth felt his heart pound in his chest. He felt Shen as she moved through the ducting. He felt the gentle flow of the air in the corridor as it drifted back and forth. He felt the dry air of this planet drawing the moisture from his skin. He felt the vibrations of distant violence. He felt the fear of bystanders as they fled in all directions, and the encroaching determination of lawmen as their speeders carried them through the sky.

He felt the anger as the Monster approached. He felt it struggle through doorways; felt it sniffing; searching; feral in the way it sought to follow their trail. He felt it's mind, screaming and flailing in a cage. He felt it's instincts snap into focus, their Force-scent filling his nostrils. He felt the Monster descend, from two limbs onto four. He felt the rage shaking the ground as it began to walk, and then run, growing closer and closer.

Fear boiled inside him, all his effort taken to hold his feet in place. The Monster was coming, but Shen was not far enough. If Orenth followed too soon, if Orenth climbed after his other while the Monster was still far away, it would find them. It would roam the corridors and be waiting for them; trapping them in the ducts with nowhere left to flee. He must wait. He must let the Monster get close; trap it, struggling to follow them into the ducts where it would not fit, so that Shen would have time to escape further ahead. It was what the Keeper would have him do. It was what the Keeper did have him do, back in their Home, when the Hunter came.

His eyes closed for the briefest moment, reaching out beyond the walls, beyond the sky, beyond the stars: hoping that once again the Keeper might come; might save him. He was not afraid to die. He had learned that phrase, learned that sentiment, and it was true. He did not fear it: it would happen, and there was no controlling it. But a new notion struck him: a desire not to die; not for his own sake, but for hers. His other. If he lived, she would live.

The growl of the Monster echoed through the corridors. Orenth gripped his lightsaber - the one the Keeper had given him - and hoped he would not have to use it.

[Shen]

Ever onward she pressed, letting senses stretch and reach to find the way. She pushed too far, however, and that same probing brushed against something else. Her instinct was to recoil, and Shen allowed it but halted when she felt her hand slipping from the edges of the ducting.

No.

The Monster, it was moving in fast, much too fast. Orenth was not yet enclosed, not yet safe, he was... waiting?

You must move!

The thought came with no halt of her own sense of urgency. She knew what her other was doing, his reasons, they were as tangible as if he was near enough to grasp hold of and refuse to allow him to bring his thoughts to fruition. Briefly she considered allowing herself to extend once more, to follow through with the very concept, to take hold of her other and forcibly pull him to safety. He had made a choice, however, and it was not her place to unmake it for him. This was not the attack on their Home, she could not rush to his aid and stand with him in a show of solidarity and care. Only her feelings could reach him, now.

One thing was for certain, she did not like the notion. She did not like what he was doing. Fear spiked in the pit of her stomach once more, clutching and clawing at her chest as she felt the Monster suddenly surge forward, it's blind rage engulfing her, causing an outward agonized cry.

"No!"

[Lúka Jibral]

* * *

Lúka felt the foreign presence the instant his eyes snapped open. Immediately he shifted, one hand reaching for the light controls, the other for the slugthrower beneath his pillow. He didn't get the chance. With a click, the light beside his armchair blinked on, a blinding second of brightness quickly fading into a familiar shadowed and haggard figure.

A sigh visibly escaped, bare shoulders and bare chest subsiding as Lúka abandoned his efforts for the light. His fingers stayed wrapped around the slugthrower however, eyes blinking a few times to adapt to the light, checking Khalid's hands and posture to be sure he wasn't similarly armed.

Jibral's eyes glanced towards the doorway, hidden from view of his bed by the krenth-shaped footprint of his apartment. There was no glow of light seeping in from the corridor beyond, but he hardly expected to see signs that the door was left wide open. Part of him hoped that Khalid had been forced to resort to something as brutal and simplistic as breaking down the door; but his continued slumber, not to mention the lack of alarm from triggered security measures reinforced Khalid's continued success in circumventing his efforts at preserved privacy.

"I believe it's customary to knock before you break into someone's home."

There was an edge in Lúka's words, but it came mostly from tiredness and surrender than from any feeling of threat. If Khalid sought to do him harm, he surely could have done so already by now; and Lúka had his suspicions that Khalid was not the sort of man to do such things with his own hands, nor in such an inelegant way. When Lúka met his end by Khalid's design - and when felt more likely than if - it would be by way of an accident, or a mission gone wrong, and not as a bloody shirtless mess in a Coruscanti apartment complex.

"What is it this time?"

[Khalid]

Khalid's typical self-assured expression lacked it's usual luster. The smile that came with it was not smug and superior, but almost sad. Most telling, his hands lay empty: no cigarette, deathstick, pistol, or alternative held to stall for time or agonise his contacts with ponderous theatrics. It was as close to the appearance of urgency as Khalid allowed himself to get; and the matter that had brought him here to Lúka Jibral's apartment in the dead of night, so soon after their last encounter, felt like the very definition of the word.

"Please forgive my intrusion."

While Khalid's body language didn't cultivate delays, his voice could not resist it. There were only so many sacrifices that could be made, even at a time such as now: only so much undermining that his carefully constructed air and aura could withstand before it began to crumble and collapse. Tonight, Khalid walked a fine line, straying as close to sentiment as he dared. His life's work was of the utmost importance, and the checks and balances that guided his actions, weighing the intrinsic value of all things to resolve the equation of what action to take, were not something to be lightly dismissed and ignored. But there was a grey area, a margin of error in the calculations where approximation and better judgement came into play. Now was one such time: a time where Khalid was forced to choose how many decimal places the value of certain assets ran to.

"I am afraid our associates from the Archives have done something unwise."

There had been no time for encrypted datapads. No time for mission parameters calibrated for Agent Jibral's eyes only. Yet, the matter was not so urgent, the equation not so out of balance that Khalid could run the risk of speaking freely. What lengths the Imperial Knights, the Security Bureau, Intelligence, or any other aspects of the Empire had taken to monitor and ensure the loyalty of their lightsaber-wielding enforcers, Khalid could not be entirely sure; but after a life lived in secret, the abandonment of such precautions went against every fibre of his being. That was his challenge: to convey the appropriate matters to Lúka Jibral, without ever stating them outright.

"They have uncaged the Hunter. It went as you warned, and now your Children are in danger."

The flash of recognition in Jibral's features told Khalid that he had succeeded in his attempt. There was barely a pause before the bedsheets were flung aside, Lúka on his feet, prowling the apartment in an instinctive pattern to retrieve the tools that had been strategically concealed. No effort was made to hide his hiding places from Khalid, the futility of such a thing was well understood. That same acceptance preserved the Knight's silence, no attempt made to solicit more information than was offered. Khalid waited, unmoving, doing Lúka a faint courtesy by not straying his gaze from the bed the Knight had abandoned. From his eye's corner, he watched a jacket hastily shrugged onto Lúka's shoulders; a blaster, slugthrower, and lightsaber each attached to their designated places on his hips.

"I have sent all I can to our Fourth Friend," Khalid added, as Lúka readied himself beside the door. A momentary pause followed; a moment of eye contact between the two. Khalid's voice turned soft, mask slipping the slightest fraction more. "Force speed," Khalid offered, and without further hesitation Lúka disappeared into the corridor, and beyond. Silently, Khalid finished the archaic saying for himself.


Force speed to you, young Jedi Knight;
And by it's Grace, may Hand and Heart,
Guide your Path as Wills the Light.

* * *

[Shen]

Shen felt cold. Not in the traditional sense, she had experienced that before; the sensation of frost against her skin as it slowly lowered her body temperature. There was no external change to warrant this sensation, however. It was not numbing, either, nor she she shiver. Still the word remained. Cold.And yet... she also burned.

Was this what it was like to be overcome by your emotions? If it was, it was another experience from this day that Shen did not wish to repeat. As unfamiliar as the sensations she was experiencing were, her task was not. Gentle hands guided over damaged flesh, her perceptions allowed to extend to see her other to his fullest extent. The gentle verdant haze that flowed within and about him marred with pain from injures caused by the Monster. Injuries that may have taken him from her if she had not disobeyed his request and aided him to the proper place at her side. Her will radiated forth, care and caution taken to put things proper, to knit and stitch and mend. This was her gift, her true gift. Yet the task was not as simple as it had been in prior practice. There were... distractions.

The Monster was still looking for them, she could feel that as well, like an ever watchful pair of eyes always searching and seeking. Shen shied away from it's probing, sought to cover her other with her protection as well. If the continued echoes of feral rage were any indication, she was only marginally successful. It knew they were still here. A sharp intake of breath from the other returned her full attentions to him and she felt her face contort in worry. A kindly yet soft shhh passed from her lips, one hand staying in place to channel the process while the other went to place a comforting gesture against Orenth's forehead.

I am going as fast as I am able, please remain calm. Remain here with me.

[Orenth]

Remain.

That was the word that stuck in Orenth's consciousness, jabbing into him like a splinter.

No, no, no. Don't remain.

Shen was not supposed to remain.

Shen was supposed to leave.

His other was supposed to be safe.

Pain stabbed through his consciousness, but it felt dim and distant, as if he was remembering feelings that were not his. The Force knitting it's way through his flesh. The pain of broken bones and punctured organs. The touch of a hand on his forehead. They were all there, and yet Orenth felt as if he was not. He was elsewhere. Lost. Separated. Drifting in and out, awareness flickering like a candle in the dark. Some moments he was here. Some moments he was out roaming the corridors. Other times he was there, and then, reliving the rage and the anger, the way the Monster flung him against walls and floors, the way he clawed at Orenth's flesh, and pounded at his bones.

You should be safe.

The thought crept out amid a brief moment of clarity.

You should have left me. I wanted you to be safe.

[Shen]

I cannot leave you.

There was no further explanation needed. Orenth was as a limb to her, one that could not be removed without consequences, one that was vital to her.It was something she thought that her other would have learned when their home had been attacked, but apparently it was a lesson still needing to be repeated to reach it's full understanding.

Shen was not certain why it had been made so, she had learned that there were others who were not so dependent on another being, and it was true that she had performed tasks without Orenth and would no doubt be called to do so again, but it was different when a threat was present. The concept was troubling. She would willingly risk herself time and time again for her other, she had even told the Keeper as much yet he had not corrected her on it. Just how far would she go to save him without being instructed to do so?

The thoughts had to pushed aside again as Shen came across a more delicate space of tissue that needed repairing. She let her mind seek out her other's again, sending impressions of comfort and ease despite their precarious surroundings.

We are not to be abandoned.

[Orenth]

But we have been abandoned.

A painful breath stabbed through Orenth's chest, and his body made the unwise decision to move, a spasm trying to tear him away from Shen's healing touch. His hand came to rest atop hers, careful not to interfere with the Force that she channelled through it, to steady himself as much as anything else. Her thoughts in his mind helped, the comfort she offered as soothing as a compress against his brow; but pain demanded more from him, and such contact was a conduit that that carried their shared thoughts more strongly.

They left us here.

The tightness constricting around his heart was something new, a sensation never experienced before. He had no word for it, wondered if it was some fresh new wound the Monster had left him with.

The Keeper does not know to come.

It worsened, squeezing his heart into an emptiness that seeped out through his body. He felt it creeping through his bones, trying to take him over, trying to pull him downwards into the floor, away from his Other. It bled upwards into his mind, sending images of pain and Monsters dancing across his thoughts, flashes of memory that he could not push away. He felt them trembling through his arm, racing like lightning towards where his hand rested against hers. He wrenched it away, feeling the images shake angrily in his fingertips, surging back to his mind worse than before as punishment for not letting them spread. They taunted him with his own thoughts, and Orenth had no choice but to let them be shared.

You should have left me.

His eyes opened, struggling to see her, his vision darker than it should have been.

But now he will find us both, and he will hurt you, because I could not keep you safe.

[Shen]

No. He won't.

There was certainty there that should not have been. Shen had no way of knowing for sure what the Monster would do or what the future held, yet for some reason she felt that what she had spoken through their mental link to her other was the truth.

We are stronger together, you know this.

Her eyes held his even as she continued to treat his wounds, absolute trust placed in The Force that it would guide her in that aspect. It was dangerous, she knew, to divide her attention like this, but it was clear that Orenth's body was not the only thing needing mending. Wounds had been created that were deeper, and she was not entirely certain that the Monster was to blame for them.

Those charged with tending to us have failed in their mission to do so. But I will not fail. You do not keep me safe, we keep us safe.

Her hands switched, the one at his brow moved to help channel the healing through her while the other quickly snatched his hand back to contact.

Do not pull away. Do not lose abandon what we have learned.

Somewhere in the building below them the Monster roared in challenge to her words, but Shen kept focus on her other.

We will endure. It cannot defeat us if we do not allow it.

[Orenth]

He felt Shen's words, and the truth that she imbued them with. Despite his doubts, he still felt himself believing them, if only a little. A pang of something dark tugged at his chest, as he tried to see the situation through her eyes. To him, it was easy to choose the other over the self; but to Shen, he was choosing her over the binary. By sacrificing himself he was breaking the way of the world that she understood, and forcing her into a new one that she would have to learn to understand alone. The thought of losing his other filled him with dread; but his intent at sacrifice must surely inspire the same fear in her.

I am sorry.

The thought was uttered quietly, and a new feeling coursed through him, one that matched with Orenth's understanding of shame. This was the second time such a fear of loss had been inflicted upon her, and this time he did so by his own choice. He had brought harm and hurt to his other: hurt her inside, just as surely as the Monster had hurt his outside.

I do not wish to leave you. It is only -

He struggled to even rationalise the complex thought that tangled within his mind.

You cannot come to harm. I cannot allow it. I do not know why it is so, but I know that it is. You are my -

What was the word that the Keeper had used? What was the sentiment that he had conveyed?

- Sister. I am your Brother. I must keep you safe. It is the way of things.

[Shen]

Why?

The question came boldly yet gently, not an accusation of wrongness but a sincere query.

Why must it be so? Why must you be the one to keep me safe? Why must a brother protect a sister only, can it not be the other way? Can I not protect you?

It was a genuine question to her. The Keeper and others who had spoken to them, taught them, had not elaborated on such relationships and workings. There was no defining who was designated as the one who protected another, at least not as far as Shen's education had concerned. Perhaps Orenth had received different instructions that lead him to this belief. Perhaps that was why it was so hard to challenge him and make him view things as she did.

You have done your job before, you have protected me in the past. Now it is my turn.

An audible sigh left her as she finished mending the soft tissue injures that she could handle with her gift. She had begun working on a fracture along one of her other's ribs but found the results unsatisfying. Bone was difficult, more exhausting, beyond her for now. It was something to work on and improve, but not here, not without control and another who could monitor her and ensure she made no mistakes.

We cannot stay here, we need other help.

Shen found herself biting her lower lip, the action strange, unmerited, and immediately she halted it. She would need to find materials capable of stabilizing the breaks and fractures that Orenth had sustained until another could properly tend to them.

I must go, though not how you wish.

It wasn't necessary to point out, her thoughts were shared freely with her other, he already knew her intentions.

I will return and together we will leave this place.

[Orenth]

There was no room for protest. Perhaps he could have tried to stop her, but it was unlikely that he would have succeeded. She had been trained as well as he had, and while he was stronger, she was faster; physically at least, though with the Force as their ally, such distinctions often faded. In his weakened state, he would not be able to restrain her, not be able to prevent her from leaving now that her mind had been set to that course of action.

She was right, of course, to question why Brother was different from Sister. Orenth's certainty stretched beyond that, though. It was not merely that he was Brother and she was Sister, but that he was Sixth and she was Seventh. It was the way of things. Orenth, Shen, Thesh. A sequence. An order. His precedence came with an obligation: he was to protect those who came after, just as those who came before would protect him, were they here. There was a simplicity to it, a clear path that he understood. The why did not matter, it was simply the way of things.

Yet here, and now, he could not do so. He could not protect his Other, and now she was forced to protect him, to deviate from the order, to reverse the way of things. It did not feel right. It was not as things should be. That much was true of all things this day, however. The way of things had changed. Perhaps, alone, it was up to Orenth and Shen to find a new way of things for themselves. Perhaps that was the purpose. Perhaps that was the lesson.

Resignation settled across his heart.

Take me with you.

It was not a request, nor did the words mean what they meant. It was the truth of them: they took each other with them, always. Even when they were parted, they were together, an unbreakable bond that joined them together in the Force. It was more than just a bond between their minds: with concentration, it was as if they walked beside each other, as if any distance between them folded into nothing whenever their minds turned to each other. He would not be able to see her surroundings, only her: not a guardian, nor a sentinel, but merely a presence at her side. It was as much as he could offer, as much as he could do; and worst of all, he did not do it for her. Selfish. The concept stabbed into him like a dagger, but he did not reverse his request. Through the Force, his hand reached out towards her's.

Please.

[Shen]

She considered the request for a mere instant, felt her Other reaching for her before her hand physically took his in hers and she leaned forward to rest her forehead against Orenth's. It was an unnecessary gesture to link them as he had asked to be, something that could have been done without even a glance, but Shen had been taught that the symbolic was often just as important as the actual.

Her eyes closed and her hand compressed, a gentle pressure applied to the similar belonging to her Other.

Always.

She felt the connection form between them, a merging of her own self with his in a way and when her eyes reopened and Shen pulled away from Orenth, she perceived the viridian nature of his self entwining with her own. It strengthened her, as surely as if her Other could stand beside her.

I will return.

The truth was reiterated as Shen stood and looked towards the door of their feeble sanctuary. A glance back towards Orenth was given before she forced herself to step through that door, to the dangers beyond, to search for items that would allow her to make good on her promise.

[Orenth]

Though Shen's gaze focused on his body, Orenth's own perception was behind her. He reached out with a hand, settling it on her shoulder: an action that was nothing, and yet meaningful, an imaginary representation of a sentiment that he conveyed through their link. Though his words emerged from the lips of his projected self, they existed only as concepts within Shen's thoughts.

I will be here.

It was strange, to see himself in this way: to see himself as she saw him. Orenth did not possess the words to describe how the connection was. He was unsure if the Keeper would possess such words either, or indeed if such words existed. It was as much emotion as it was sense. He saw, and yet didn't, a mixture of what Shen's mind comprehended, and what the Force whispered to Orenth across the distance. As part of their learnings, Orenth and Shen had watched recordings of soldiers on missions, visions captured not by the eyes of those experiencing, but by some technology upon their body. It was like this, in a way, except not; for it was the Force, rather than some device, and the information streamed to him not through the Force but through Shen's mind, coloured and augmented by her experiences.

From here, Orenth looked so different from how he imagined himself. He imagined himself as strong, capable. a protector; like the Keeper, perhaps, in a way. As he looked upon himself now, his perceptions filtered through Shen, he felt worry for himself. He saw his injuries as they were, not as the lesser that he imagined them to be. He felt Shen's concern, her affection, her desire to protect, as if they were his own.

The hand on her shoulder lingered.

Do not worry. We will keep me safe.