Private Sleeping Beauty

[The Hyacinth]

Outer Rim circa 890
Nar Shaddaa - Underbelly of Lethe Night Club


Somehow his joints felt stiff.

How that was possible when many of them were constructed from various metals and wires and circuits, he wasn’t sure. But, he was sure that he needed a drink and food. As would his guest, once he was awake and functioning well.

Hyacinth lounged in his personal office while he waited for a strong drink and hearty food options to arrive. In the meantime, he turned on a datapad that hadn’t seen the light of day in who knows how long. It took a while, buffered endlessly and to his frustration, until it finally displayed its home screen. Maybe it was best that he hadn’t had a drink yet because he might have spit it out on the floor when he saw the pad display the year:

890 ABY​

For a time, his mind reeled trying to grasp the number of decades that had passed since their sleep was induced. Whoever maintained that for decades on end certainly had deep pockets and, it seems, a pointed interest in the twins. Not that the purpose mattered right now. Bearings needed to be established first.

He blinked several times, setting the tablet on the polished stone table with a dull clink and rubbing his forehead just as the door hissed open to reveal an armed, red Rodian. “Boss, Charon’s awake,” came the noncommittal reply as roast pomork, a few starch options, a veg or two, a bottle of honey-wine, and two places were set across the desk’s surface.

Who the feth — Wait… Charon, Charon… Asphodel. Brother.

A bark of a laugh escaped his constructed throat. “Yeah? Well, send him in. Don’t disturb us again, unless it’s urgent,” a sly but genuine smile crossed his lips as his voice modulator attempted to reconstruct his brother’s voice before returning to his own. The Rodian left with a nod.

By the time the door opened again to reunite the twins, Akhlys had already made a large plate of food with the spread that was laid out for them. Bright eyes seemed to glow that much brighter at the sight that greeted him as he looked towards his partner in crime. A glass was raised and tipped towards the door.

“Rise and shine, highlighter.”

The Asphodel​

 

[The Asphodel]

For what felt like the briefest of moments, Asphodel knew peace.
​

Sweet darkness had kept his mind blank, at ease. And for once, the computers in his head also went dark. He floated in an abyss of nothingness, unbothered by the galaxy, untouched by time.

And then it was bright. And loud, too loud, as if the sounds of a lifetime were hitting him all at once. The chirp of birds, the screech of metal against metal, a lover's laugh, the hum of a lightsaber, and above it all, a voice riddled with panic. His voice, but also not. A cacophony of alerts ran in his skull - system updates, vitals warnings, other messages he simply couldn't take in amongst everything else all flashed before his eyes, the unskippable ones just about blinding him from his return to the waking world.

So he lay there, trapped in a new kind of hell as the mechanical parts of him caught up to the biological. His limbs were heavy, both from disuse and the deadweight of updating mechanics. He remembered vaguely that such updates had happened before, though never of this magnitude, even when he'd pushed them off til the last moment. Screens of blue flashed before his eyes with percentages and warnings for what felt like an eternity before finally he was left with just one final message.

Welcome, Charon.​

With a grunt that would've been unlike him in a different life, he rose to a sitting position, taking note of his surroundings. Most of his weapons were gone - the ones his master had known about, anyway, he could still feel the weight of his favored dagger hidden in an extra seam of his pants and a couple more stowed in his boots. Beside the pod he was sitting in was another of the same size and make. Brother.

He wasn't alone, either. An individual in a stained lab coat watched his movements with a trained eye. Yes, trained...but not trained enough. Asphodel moved like a serpent (albeit, not as fast as he'd like), grabbing the human by the front of their coat, his favorite dagger at their throat. Before he could begin an interrogation, the individual spoke up with a voice calmer than what he'd expect from one at knifepoint. "Akhyls waits. Down the hall, last door on the right."

He left the - Scientist? Doctor? It hardly mattered - unscathed for the moment, spurred on by the familiar callsign. Surely the elder brother would have answers to the ever-growing list of unknowns that screamed to be answered. Impatient as he was, he still made note of each camera he caught in his peripheral, clocking their range of vision and blind spots. It wasn't lost on him that this could still be a trap.

As the door opened to the near-mirrored face, a wave of relief washed over him. His stomach rumbled as the smells of the spread of food hit his nose. An eyebrow rose at the nickname, a return of a signature smirk began to spread across his countenance.

"Apologies, dear Perennial. You know how I need my beauty sleep."

The Hyacinth ​

 

[The Hyacinth]

His smile widened. “Yes, yes. You slept well, I take it? Or, rather, woke well?” He made a gesture to the seat across from him, as well as to the food and wine laid out for the brothers to enjoy. If they were anything alike, especially when waking from their lovely induced sleep, Asphodel — hell, anyone — would want food after not having a proper meal for as long as the pair had gone without one.

“How are you now? Still catching up to yourself? You look tense, dear. I definitely am.” That was a gross understatement. His systems may have stabilized themselves in short order, his body may have adjusted to sitting and standing and walking again, but his organic mind had yet to grasp their full reality just yet. How had their operation continued running all these years? Was Garo still alive? Who kept their observers in a job for so long? Who ran operations for Kairos while they were gone, if Garo wasn’t around? Why was his head pounding? It began as a secret for the brothers. Hopefully, it remained such.

He took a measured bite of the roast and starches on his plate, regardless of whether his brother accepted the invitation or not. He also chewed on a hunk of bread that was, quite honestly, a bit stale at this point. But, beggars couldn’t be choosy.

In a continued moment of shock, he dropped the bomb. “It’s been nearly 30 years, Flower.” At this, he did not elaborate. He couldn’t elaborate. Which was infuriating and frustrating and saddening, all at once. His systems flashed a warning over his eyes, causing a sigh to come out before he took a healthy swig of wine from his cup. “Beauty sleep or not, we’ve missed a lot and we have a lot of time to make up for. Maybe starting with all of this,” he made raised his fork and made a twirling gesture to the surrounding room, club, and operation at large.

He didn’t remark on much else at present. His mind was too occupied with trying to fill in blanks and gaps. Memory and time are fickle. Even moreso when that length of time had passed in what internally felt like mere minutes at best. Forgetting, even temporarily, was a cruel lot in life. But, perhaps, it had been necessary for them to continue to be them. The fear that presently gnawed at him from the darker corners of his mind were that it wasn’t necessary. Not even for the sake of preservation.

“Not that it all needs to make sense right at this moment, anyway.”

The Asphodel ​

 

[The Asphodel]

"Like the dead." He'd laugh if it wasn't true. "And waking was worse, as I'm sure you know." The cybernetics that had saved their lives were boons nine times out of ten. Being locked in a hellscape of updates was the one. He took the gesture towards food with enthusiasm, filling his plate perhaps a tad more than what his stomach was currently feeling. It was a habit long formed by their years of training - take what food you can for you know not when your next meal will be. A couple bites in told him he was indeed hungry, too.

"I've definitely been worse - we both have." He didn't need to elaborate, not if this was indeed Hyacinth and not some impressive recreation. Asphodel doubted as such, not with the nicknames and the presence he'd known since before memory, but the unknowns that piled up couldn't completely outrule the possibility.

"It's been nearly 30 years, Flower."​

The words brought him to a halt, eyes widening and jaw dropping mid-bite. His head spun with calculations, slower than he remembered, but the belated math was nevertheless staggering. "How?" he asked, though logically, he knew answers were unlikely. "And why?" In a rare moment of genuine emotion, Asphodel was hurt. Had they done something wrong? Probably, the twins were never ones to shy away from mischief or bending rules. But had they done something so wrong as to merit thirty years lost? To wake up with not a word from their master? The Teevan felt heat gather along his eyes, steeling himself before it could turn into a sting that threatened tears.

They were abandoned, rendered obsolete. It did not sit well with Asphodel. There was opportunity, sure, maybe operational freedom they could only dream of had they not been left asleep. Still, a question weighed heavy on his mind. "Do you think - once we reestablish ourselves - do you think he'll come for us?"

The Hyacinth ​

 

[The Hyacinth]

“Of course waking was worse….” He took a bite of the meat and scraped the vegetables around his plate. A wave of nausea rolled through his body. What was left of an organic mind and body triggered salivation and a repulsion to the feast in front of them that made him lightheaded and confused, bile wanted to claw its way up his throat but he pushed it down. He shook his head as his breath became shallow and slightly quickened. His eyes dimmed to a deeper green tone as he stared off past his brother and the table in front of the pair.

He poured a large glass of water for himself and tried to drink, forcing the mechanisms that made up his hands to remain steady. They didn’t listen so his trembling was displayed in the fast disappearing contents of the glass. He put it down harder than he meant to, startling himself and causing his head to jerk to one side twice in rapid succession. Hyacinth hadn’t allowed himself to think about it since waking. He was too busy trying to situate himself, waiting to see his brother, hoping Asphodel was alright. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized that he remembered nothing. One moment, they were starting an operation on Nar Shaddaa and Apprentices together… and the next, they’re simply awake, conscious three decades later with nothing to guide them. No one to even check up on them, except those stupid, impersonal scientists.

The next words were a frightened whisper. “I don’t like not knowing, Asp…”

WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLOAD IMMINENT​

He didn’t hear his brother’s next questions about how and why it all occurred. He barely saw his face, he couldn’t see the glint of his light in his eye as tears threatened to spill. His mind raced and fought against the impossibility, trying to scramble and flip through nonexistent memory files that should have filled in the time they lost. There was naught but black void and questions to fill it with. And why couldn’t he remember? He should be able to remember. Asphodel should be able to remember. They didn’t deserve this… He wanted to rage, to scream, to break himself or his surroundings.

He could only sit and practically vibrate in his chair from the tremors that seized his body as he finally cried. He pushed the plates and glass aside and tried to lay his head down and breathe, manually forcing breath in and out of his body to try to cool his system and calm his emotional state. His chest heaved and a dull ache settled there and in his throat as his system lost the battle to maintain its delicate internal balance and succumbed to grief. Machinery ground against itself in an imitation of constriction. His breaths came in labored pants and were permeated by the sobs that he could no longer control or hold back.

What had they done to deserve this?

Asphodel’s voice cut through his distress. The mention of him caused him to slowly push himself up in his chair, flesh flushed where it existed on his face and tears rolling and burning the skin it rushed down.

Hyacinth shook his head, both to the question and in disbelief once he had a moment to process the words that made their way from his brother’s mouth to his ears through molasses in the space between them.

No, Maliphant wouldn’t come for them. Why would he? Or, perhaps as he would ask: why should he? They were out of practice, behind in every way. Yes, they retained memory of before but they weren’t entirely the same. They would have to train their bodies again. They would have to train their minds again, too. Train was light and too gracious... They would have to experience trauma again, really. Rage slowly began to build within the elder twin as he thought about the possibility.

No, that was not something to want to go back to. They shouldn’t want that. Even if he was all they’d ever known in the way of a teacher. He was a cruel one. They all were and Maliphant was no exception. He inflated their egos, he praised them publicly, lauded them above his other Apprentices. And in the next breath, the moment they stepped a hair over a line that moved ever closer and higher, they were cut down.

Spying on me is unacceptable.

Oda, if you believe I punished you - then you will soon learn.

You will fight each other until one of you falls - I don't care what the conditions are, but you will fight. Attempt to toy with my command, and I will see you both dismantled.​

Grief, sadness, and rage mixed to become a weight in his being that he couldn’t let go of.

No, he would not come. He had not in 30 karkin years. He probably thought they were dead and deserved to be so for failing. Even star pupils are disposable. Even if they’re helpful or useful or perfect, they still get thrown aside. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. It was always rigged. There was never a chance that they were going to succeed with him.

Not even if they made something decent of the rest of their lives.

“No. We shouldn’t count on that. If he wanted us, he would’ve found us and taken us back.” Hyacinth blinked through another onslaught of tears that set off miniscule clang! noises as they hit his cheeks and the metal underneath his pants. “He doesn’t want us, Asphodel. Stop thinking that he will.”

“We have to save ourselves now.”



The Asphodel ​