A Kick In the Pants

[Adia Issoris]

Adia’s morning start did not vary from day to day. She woke at exactly 0600, dressed in running gear, washed her face, used mouthwash and jogged out the door. This process took exactly 7 minutes.

The air outside was cool, and only other early risers were starting to mill about. The sun had broke the night, but bright stars and planets nearby shone defiantly in the western sky against the coming daybreak. She gave one of the culinary droids a wave while it returned with supplies from the stock rooms. It paused, acknowledged her with one of it’s free arms, and continued on. She took a winding, almost spiral route that took her past nearly every building on the, well, she supposed it was a campus. It was an appropriate designation for a place geared to learning. She waved and smiled at her fellow early risers when she passed them. Otherwise, she took in the changed details from the previous days. A weeded garden, a dried cloak, a fire pit that had seen use. Small changes. Calm, focus, and a little apprehension colored her perception of the Force. As she drew closer to the edge of the Jedi’s colony an unusual feeling of dread washed over her. She continued her jog, somewhat disquieted. Something was wrong. She examined the entrance for each dwelling, and noticed that someone had shuffled in front of Morgan’s stoop. Whoever it was had large feet.

Morgan’s small dwelling was normally empty. Her son, the first new Jedi Knight since the last Skywalker, was not well. Adia knocked on the door.

“Morgan?” She waited a minute, but did not hear anything through the door. She knocked again.

“Morgan? It’s Adia. Mom. I’m coming in.” She tried the handle. It was unlocked. Aside from a glass on the counter, there wasn’t any evidence of recent habitation. “Morgan?” She asked again, although with her extreme proximity, she knew he was there. She pushed through the bedroom door and was worried immediately. Morgan looked sickly. His lips were cracked.

“Morgan, wake up.” Adia gave him a tap on the cheek with an open hand. His skin was clammy. A mid tone moan escaped his parched lips. His eyes fluttered.

“I can save them go back go back back no no I can save more.” Emerged in a hoarse whisper.

“Kid, up.” She gave him a slap on the shoulder, but all she got for the effort was another mournful moan and a clumsy shake of his head. Adia had seen Morgan injured before, but this was altogether different. She put two fingers to his aorta. After thirty seconds his pulse remained erratic. She paused, but only to determine how best to carry him. She opted to pull him over her shoulder. It was the easiest way to maneuver two meters of comatose Jedi.

What had started out as a normal day was quickly becoming anything but. Her son was back, yes, but he was clearly afflicted by some sort of illness. At best, he was severely dehydrated. Adia carried him to the medical building and hoped that someone other than the medical droids were awake.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

The infirmary was a quiet place in the small hours of morning. Draiya found herself drawn to the solitude and the opportunity to self-reflect. The small hospital held a dozen beds, but only one was presently occupied by Ganduu Wray, sleeping heavily through a bout of Gordian flu. It left Draiya with only trivial tasks of cleaning and restocking, and much more time to read and meditate. The Syragori padawan currently buried her nose in one of the old books from the library, encouraged by Master Laran to pursue her independent study of the illusive arts. Her focus was also sharpened in keeping her body balanced as she spread both legs into splits, so that she maintained a precarious perch by each ankle atop two medical cots as she straddled the gap between them. Intense focus was required to remain in the moment of both mental and physical demands. At first, it was challenging, but Draiya now found the exercise soothing.

A chime at the door broke the moment, and Draiya carefully closed the old book, setting it aside on one cot as she carefully dismounted. Her soft-soled boots moved soundlessly over the floor as she headed towards the infirmary entrance. A tap of the panel released the door with a soft pneumatic sigh. The sight that greeted the padawan in that moment brought immediate concern to her dark eyes.

"Morrgan?"

She looked to the woman who'd slung the lanky jedi over her back like a ruck.

"Come, get him inside. What happened?"

[Adia Issoris]

"I don't know. I didn't even know he was back. I was out for my morning jog and when I went by his cottage I knew something was wrong. He's dehydrated and he's not responding to most stimulus. I think he'd been in bed for at least a day." There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Since his experience on the Novgorod Morgan had been uncommunicative to almost everyone. Doubly so since his latest mystery. His reports to the council were detailed, but he'd refused help multiple times. Adia was concerned, but wasn't able to voice it. Morgan had actively avoided personal contact with everyone, and even if he wasn't teleporting to do it, he was effective at dodging everyone.

Draiya led Adia to an empty bed furthest from Wray.

"Let's get an IV into him and go from there." Adia carefully unrolled Morgan onto the bed. She found the IV kit next to the bed and sifted through until she found the vibroneedle. She turned it on to break through the graphene layer just under the skin and then turned if off. A combination of practiced combat medicine and Force-bound insight were enough to find a vein.

"I don't even know where he is until after he files reports to the council."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya worked quickly, but practiced the care that Master Laran had taught her as an infirmary assistant and learner. She quickly hung a bag of electrolytes in solution to feed through the IV, which would help to counteract the dehydration. From there, the Syragori girl remained still and quiet, her eyes closing as she took in the shape of Morgan's living presence in the force. It didn't take long before she opened her eyes again.

"He's barrely herre with us. Mentally, I mean. I can't be cerrtain, but it feels like he's intensely focused on something elsewherre."

Of course, there were ways to pull those layers back, but Draiya had long-since learned to exercise restraint when it came to plying through the thoughts and experiences of others.

[Morgan Evanar]

It was one of the few times in Morgan's life that he felt geographically lost. He stared at a map of the Abroganto Scientific Research Precinct and could not relate it at all to where he was. He'd been walking back and forth between two intersections and each time something seemed to change. The walkways were labled but when he'd get to a point indicated on a map, it would be different. Or maybe the map was different?

He started to count his steps and do small things to alter the environment. He moved a trash can and made note of it's specific location. A tree's unique shape. Morgan would get three turns away, check the map and then his mental markers and they were gone, like they were sand dunes in a desert.

He dodged through the people, his tall frame flowing like fluid under moderate pressure. Rapid through empty space, dynamic through tighter ones. Not always graceful, but efficient. Organic, even. Despite his tens of thousands of very long steps, when Morgan sat, he was almost certain this was nearly where he started. He felt tired, and hungry and thirsty. The slicer-come-Jedi stood and took one distracted step into a tall, lean blue Twi'Lek, fashionably dressed and had tatoos of wildly varied quality. She rewarded him with a violent slap in the face.

"Ralentissez et regardez où vous allez! Imbescile!"

"Sorry." He stammered. She spit on the ground and stalked off in combat boots. Morgan stood stupidly. His face didn't hurt, then it did, then it felt cold instead of hot and then hot again. She dissapeared into the crowd, and he felt even more lost.

Two young women emerged from the crowd. They were not adults yet, but not quite children, either.

"Mister, you look lost." One said. He looked down and shook his head.

"I'm not, I just haven't figured out where I am or where I am going. Thanks, but I think I'll keep moving." He replied. His stomach rumbled and his mouth felt dry. The young women looked disappointed, but shrugged. Morgan kept walking.

Days passed. He knew this because he had counted the day and night cycles. His mouth felt like sand paper, and his stomach had declared war against itself. He sat but found himself too weak to return to his feet.

Another tall woman came. This one was athletic, almost muscular. Her hair was red, her eyes green, and her gaze fierce. "Morgan you are an idiot. Pay attention and ask for directions!"

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Frustration knit on Draiya's face. The stimuli and feelings were strong, but glimpsed from afar they were formless and muddy. She looked up at Knight Issoris, pushing a stray tress of brunette hair over her ear.

"It looks like a drream state, but that isn't exactly rright. I can feel him rreacting morre strrongly than he should."

There was a possibility, and one that she was reluctant to use. Perhaps the situation called for a more direct approach.

"I can...err...trry to find him. I mean, I can at least perrceive his awarreness in his prresent state. That's not norrmally something I would do without perrmission, but I think the cirrcumstances warrant it."

Of course, it was a gross invasion of privacy to do so, and Draiya had wrestled with the ethics of the more applied aspects of her unique gifts in the force.

[Adia Issoris]

Adia closed her eyes and tried to follow along. Draiya was right, Morgan... wasn't all here. He was exhausted, despondent and distrustful. Instead of the sharp shapes of conciousness, these were distant, blurry impressions. She ran a hand through his dishelved hair. The IV had brought some color back to his body skin and his heartbeat had steadied.

"Wake up, son. You're safe here. You can come back to Ossus. We'll figure it out together." She said quietly.

She looked at Draiya, and was about to say something when Morgan went into REM. He began to mutter indistintively. Gradually the words became more coherent, and his heart raced.

"comingbackcomingbackcomingbackcomingbackagainagain again." before the words drifted back into incoherence and his heart rate calmed.

Morgan stopped REM and ceased mumbling. Adia had seen many strange things in her years. This didn't particuarly rank on that scale, except Morgan had, in her experience, almost no connection to the Living Force. This wasn't a fever dream. Morgan saw something specific.

"Morgan? Wake up." She said, and caressed his face. He was still distant.

"I think he saw something."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Do it."

One Zabrak. Military or paramilitary based on posture. A medium sized Hutt. A human. She was short, probably middle aged, and nondescript. Probably Imperial. They gathered in a broken room on a dead world. The Human and Hutt sat while the Zabrak paced. Static lightning crackled in the distance from the dust and debris swirling in the atmosphere.

He was about to ask why when his attention ripped away, and then recoiled in horror. The life slaving lizards had returned. No. What they had encountered had been a vanguard. Even as deaf to the Living Force as he was, Morgan could feel the echos of terror and panic as worlds beyond the Outer Rim were converted into batteries.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

Draiya drew in a long inhale, then screwed her eyes shut. She saw Morgan's luminescence in the force, and threw herself into it. The kaleidoscope swallowed her senses until shade of color was banished save for soft white. Draiya turned around, and around again. Knight Issoris had vanished. Definition of form and shadow was slowly taking shape in the white, but nothing appeared distinct.

"Masterr Evanarr?"

[Morgan Evanar]

Again...

Alarm klaxons filled the air. Morgan ran harder, his breath ragged, and dropped another one of Mara's satchels into what looked to be part of the ship's power system. He turned and met the charge of a saurian attacker. Morgan dodged the rows of teeth and claws, and grabbed the creatures arm as it reset for another attack. The Jedi gave the enslaver a feral grin before they disappeared from the ship into the vacuum of space. He kicked away, and the pair drifted apart. The Ssi-ruu thrashed.

The Ssi-ruu came to terms with it's new reality, a hundred meters from the ship they were just in. Morgan stared, and then winked from existance.

10 kilometers away, the crew of of the Novgorod fought to keep the ship and it's squadron of A-Wings intact against another wave of Swarm droids. Morgan appeared on the bridge. The Sii-ruuk light cruiser listed oddly in the distance before the ammunition stores detonated and tore the ship apart from within.

"Sir, we're out of missiles for tubes four through eight."

"Cirr, Captain, I can get another one." Morgan said after a deep breath. Sweat poured off the Jedi. His right jacket sleeve had been torn to shreds. He bled from multiple wounds: a gouge just above his right elbow, a puncture in his left thigh, scratches on both forearms and across his back.

The Captain's ears dropped. The retrofitted Corvette was tough, but the shields were being worked to critical levels. The ship shook from another blast.

"No. The A-wjings are nearly out of shjields and so jare we. Helm, ready for ljighspeed. Sjingnal the squardron."

Morgan ground his teeth and gripped the edge of the E-War console. The interceptors dove for cover behind the wide rear structure of the Marauder class corvette and quickly disappeared off the console.

"Fire all mjissjiles. Helm, Hjyperspace."

Morgan's hands tightened further, and the metal began to protest before he let go.

Again...

This would loop dozens of times. Draiya watched him run down a thousand Ssi-ruu corridors. He'd rescue the same, almost hundred people. He'd plant the same eight bombs.

Until Draiya granted him quiet. He was alive, but no longer tortured by the conscious.

[Draiya Naaianeya]

They were stuck in a moment, like flies in the amber. The first time through, Draiya flinched at the images as if they were happening to her in real life, but the second time she started to understand what she was seeing. Again and again, the same moment came and went, with nothing changing from the previous iteration. After a few dozen iterations, Draiya pressed back against the vision, pushing it back into the white, until there was nothing remaining but her, and him.

Draiya watched Morgan's projection of himself react to the sudden oblivion. He seemed momentarily eased, but still under duress.

"Masterr Evanarr, can you hearr me?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Don't you see? I could have done more. I should have. Wretched lizards sucked the life out of people and I could have done more." He spoke as if he was speaking to someone or something. There was someone here, and it was giving him a headache.

"Go away. I'm trying to figure this out." Morgan was at his workbench. Before him was a semi-organized array of parts that were also information and pictures. Some were sharp and clear. Others were out of focus.

Draiya could feel his frustration build after each failed iteration. Frustration built again when he realized there were gaps in the information. When his hands trembled and he could no longer pick up the pieces he lowered his head onto the table.

"Morgan. You're not alone." It was Adia's voice, distant.


"When death comes we are. This poison from the dart is my death. My body is my tomb. Let me die in peace, with my failure."

[Draiya Naaianeya]

The circumstances were unfamiliar, but the core of it was something Draiya had come to understand. Failure. How to be a Jedi and confront moments when you fail. Fail others, or fail yourself. She tried to reach him in that moment, but he'd pushed her away, drawing deeper into the fabric of his memory. It occurred to Draiya at that moment that she might be doing more harm than good trying to push him out of this moment, or to swim against it. Instead, maybe she could reach him through it instead. Draiya focused on his thoughts and memories, looking for someone tangential...

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"What arre you lookjing forr herre?"

Cirrsseeto looked over the workbench, turning over a few of the contents as his attention stayed on Morgan.

"The past can't be changed. Norr should you ljive jin jit."

[Adia Issoris]

"I failed the past, failed the present."

Adia could feel the echo of his thoughts, but she was focused on examining what was wrong. They had hybrid optical/electrical nervous systems, because the optical was faster for gross motor movement. It seemed the optical part was working. The electrochemical was failing below the blood/brain barrier. He might be able to heal in time, if she could get him to rest.

Adia took her boy's head into her hands. His skin was clammy and cool. His stubbled scraped against her palms. She brushed his hair off his brow. She closed her eyes.

"You aren't being honest with yourself. It's not your responsibility to fix everything. Why did Serena send you with Ndonsa and Draiya?"

[Morgan Evanar]

His thoughts reluctantly turned inward. Morgan knew the answer. He felt like he failed again, in a way. But Draiya and Ndonsa had been insightful and helpful.


"I need to learn to trust others. I've only trusted three others for a long time." His mind quieted.


"I'm tired and everything hurts. They can't always be there. Tell Draiya and Ndonsa I apologize."