This Is the Darkness In My Hand

[Kuzo]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNchOCVB1MQ[/media]

M A E N A

If it weren't for the ongoing sample work on Gideon, Irajah wouldn't have left Panatha yet. But this trip was necessary- she needed the data to continue her work, and it wasn't the kind anyone else could simply send her. She had to see the progress in the samples, had to record the differences, the details.

Then she could bring it all back to her study, locked in her suite, and pretend nothing outside of those walls existed.

Only a week had elapsed since the incident. She had changed her hair to cover her forehead, though even that couldn't hide the remnants of the deep, yellow and green bruises that were still fading. She was still acutely aware of the new cybernetics, her right arm, fingers on her left hand. Though the components for her leg had come in, they had not yet.... she grimaced thinking about it..... installed it. She had utterly balked at going back to the medical ward in Vain Hollow, even with her new personal shadows. It was too open. Too exposed. And not everything else had fully healed yet. She could still feel the ache where one of her hips had been crushed. No. In her professional opinion, until that completely healed, she would not be walking on her own even with the replacement leg.

She didn't admit, even to herself, that wasn't truly the reason.

Sitting in the repulsor chair that had been her only means of mobility, she started pulling up the data she needed. It would take some time to copy it all, and then add the new information.

Just inside of the lab, two masked Crownsguard, the royal guard of Panatha stood. She didn't know if they were always the same- she never saw their faces. But they were there for her protection, ensured by [member="Darth Prazutis"]. They were her shadows.

Irajah sat, shoulders hunched. She did her best to ignore her hands as they moved across the controls, eyes fixed on the screen. They still weren't *her* hands.

She didn't know if they ever would be.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

It was probably nothing, really.

Work had taken her elsewhere at the last minute. Her son had needed care...somewhere? There was something....she had to do....urgently....?

The reasons were running thin in Connor's mind as he sat in the cockpit of the beat-up Silver Jedi freighter he still called his own.

While Maena was still alien to him, he'd been her three times now - including this - and so didn't know the planet well at all bar what Matsu Xiangu had told him. He wouldn't have even found Doctor Ven's suite and laboratory were it not for the notes and scribblings in her now dormant apartment on Dosuun.

Through steepled fingers, he leant his chin on them and went through the events earlier in the day.

---

He had made it into the First Order, and the Knights of Ren.

Walking with confidence and a smile before his visit to the Citadel, Connor had one person to visit and thank for her help planting the seed couple of weeks ago. Irajah Ven. That wide-smile of hers to melt a thousand hearts, and a kindness unlike none he'd seen. Selfless, experienced and a pretty little thing to look at too.

The last time he had seen her and her friend, Jacob, he had really let her down. Parting before he could be of help, because he himself was a wreck. No connection to the Force, no idea where his future lay....a wreck.

Now? The Force was back, mild right now, but Matsu would soon help that flourish into a raging inferno. He felt near-human again, and was on the way up.

But her apartment was sparse.

Empty.

Abandoned.

Connor stood in the doorway, leaning in. No sign of life. Not even that creepy pet. No Boo. No Irajah.

It was clean on the most part, but it just felt empty. He gingerly walked around each room checking for any sign of life - or worse - but thankfully it was empty. Nothing broken, nothing evidently damaged or stolen. Notes and files were set about the place, a few clothes.

Through being curious and slightly worried, it was on her notes he found the location and coordinates of her Maena station. And a name he had come across. Prazutis.

Reading it, his eyes drifted up, and his stomach sank.

---

Thunder rolled up ahead in the dark skies as he traversed the rocky terrain towards the building that matched the location on her charts. It seemed well dug in, and quite imposing. Connor held his cloak down from the breeze as he navigated across the charred black and green rock and soil to the main doors.

A hatch opened, and a droid came forward fixed on an arm of some kind. Or was it a camera? It was an orb, but he couldn't tell.

Looking around the outside of the building, wondering how far into the ground and planet it went, he spoke into the orb.

"My name is Connor Harrison. I've come to see Doctor Irajah Ven of the First Order. We know each other from Avalonia.”

That was the truth, and it was all he could offer because right now that's all that made sense.

He didn't like this.

The Force swelled with darkness, but he didn't need it to tell him something was very wrong.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah flinched when the comm on the wall crackled.

"Doctor Ven? There is a..... [member="Connor Harrison"] here? He says he knows you....."

She blinked, breathing in sharply. No, no no no.... not here. Not now.

Not like this.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she breathed in deeply, trying to settle the thundering of blood in her ears.

"Doctor Ven? If you don't know him, I'm going to send out the guard...."

She swallowed, shaking her head. It took another moment to realize that the person on the other end couldn't see her. Clearing her throat, she had to start twice before finally getting the words out.

"S-send him down. I mean. Yes. I know him."

"Yes Doctor Ven."

Irajah sat back in her chair, dismay written clearly across her face. She looked down at her right hand, then to her left. Those looked real enough. But... even with the blanket on her lap, there was no mistaking that half of her left leg was simply gone. Her left hand plucked absently at the blanket for a moment before she realized she was doing it.

She went to rub her face with her right hand and stopped just as suddenly- It might look like it should, but the feeling of the cybernetic hand against any of her real flesh was.... deeply distressing still. She dropped both hands into her lap, staring at them like vipers.

By the time Connor would reach the lab she was working in, the Crownsguard would be flanking the door outside with instructions to allow him in. The only reason they had (grudgingly) agreed to leave the room at all was because the walls were made of glass- they could see anything that happened and respond in a moment if needed. She knew that true privacy was impossible, and in truth, their presence was reassuring. But she didn't need them hovering. Not right now.

She had composed herself as well, or at least, she thought she had. Her face was carefully neutral, yes- but her shoulders were hunched in a way they hadn't been the last times they had met. Her fingers fidgeted, where before they had been still. She had situated one of the lab tables between herself and the door, the table effectively blocking the view of the repulsor chair, at least when he first came in.

As soon as he came into view, she absently reached up, brushing at the new bangs over her forehead, making sure they covered the scar there. She offered a smile, but it was hollow, almost tremulous, when the doors to the lab slide open to admit him.

"Connor- this is a surprise," she said, "Wh-what are you doing here?"

 

[Connor Harrison]

Following the escort through the complex, the whole place reeked of darkness. Not that it was a bad thing, for this was Maena. It was just unsettling to know Irajah was here in a place built into the shadows, something the Irajah he had known never ventured into. She was always out there in the light with that smile, that energy and brimming with hope.

He walked deeper through, and down, until he came to the passage way with guards and a see-through....room? Cell? This whole situation was off. Connor walked, maintaining his stride and his confidence, and he saw a woman sat there. It looked like Irajah, sort of. His eyes narrowed a little, ignoring the guards flanking him as they moved for the door to open silently. They let him through, and Irajah Ven did indeed welcome him.

"Long time no see, Doctor Ven.”

Connor knew this was a place for business, not pleasure, and who knew what surveillance and recordings were going on. The greeting was familiar and non-intrusive, but it was another thing seeing the concern and shock on his face that the two guards wouldn't see from facing his back.

Moving into the room, Irajah had a low aura. Her confidence, her light, was snuffed out. There was nothing about her that would cast the same feeling of hope she had before bar that little smile that was sadly so fake.

"I came to your apartment on Avalonia but noticed it was near vacant, I hope you don't mind my coming here unannounced.”

Keeping his back to the doors as they closed, he folded his arms and stared at her for a few seconds.

It hurt.

"What have they done to you," he whispered to her mind.

He smiled, as best he could.

His eyes dropped down to her hands on her lap, and saw they were hers, but not. And on her lower body, the leg was missing. The blanket drooped where her limb would have been.

"How is your work coming along?”

This was painful. He kept her gaze and indicated to the side, towards the guards. He couldn't talk like this. It was awful seeing her like this, and he had to find out what had happened.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She couldn't keep his gaze. Hazel eyes cast down, to the side, not in nervousness, but because she simply couldn't stand the look on his face when he saw her. Her stomach roiled, right hand clenching the blanket for a moment as she looked away. This was her lab, there were things here to occupy her gaze, her attention as they spoke, she knew there was, it just took a moment for her to fixate on something.

"I came to your apartment on Avalonia but noticed it was near vacant, I hope you don't mind my coming here unannounced.”

"No-of- of course not," she said, shaking her head suddenly. She reached out, starting to sort a pile of petri dishes- it meant nothing, accomplished nothing, but it gave the illusion that she wasn't simply avoiding his gaze, but that she was working.

Irajah was a terribly liar.

"I'm sorry if that worried you- certain things came up, and I didn't really have.... the time, you know, to make all of the arrangements.... but everything.... everything's fine...."

She visibly flinched when his voice sounded in her mind, head whipping up to look at him as though she'd been burned. There was something new in her eyes then, something he hadn't seen before.

Fear. But not of him.

Nothing. It's- it's not like that.....

​She was an even worse liar this way.

"I-it's going well. I've made some real progress, I think. I'm just here to update a few things.... you- you caught me at just the right time. I won't be on Maena for long."

Irajah caught his glance, the slight nod of his head, and she gave a single, small shake of her own. The Guards were there for her protection. She didn't see them as a threat, if anything, she didn't know if she'd even be able to breath out here, in the open, without their presence.

"You're doing b-better? I can tell...... you look better."

She foundered, trying to find something to talk about, something safe.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Every time she spoke, she confirmed his doubts. His leg started to shake a little; the frustration and anger building up inside him born out of knowing what the hell was happening, why the hell she was here locked up and how the hell she had come to look the way she did now.

Her voice was broken and her aura almost dormant. Avoiding his eye contact or his concern, he was in a wonderfully awkward position.

"Oh me? I'm better than I have been in...” he noted her badly hidden head wound, "...ah, in a long time.”

Moving across closer to her, working out what she meant by the words in his head, he brushed the cloak back and took up a seat just off from opposite her and leaned forward. Every movement and word was going to be noted, and this was going to be a very dangerous moment for...for whom? Him? Her? Both?

What could he ask other than the painful obvious he wanted to hear?

"Irajah, what's happened to you? Remember when I came to you and you helped me by dropping everything nearly, putting yourself at risk? I think it's my turn for that now.”

His voice was quiet, but not a whisper to avoid sounding TOO much like some conspirator. Too much didn't make sense. Her wounds. Her aura. Her location. Her...fear. Just...her. This wasn't the Irajah he'd left on Dosuun weeks ago.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

She looked down at her hands, realized she was picking at the blanket on her lap and conscious stilled the motion. When he asked, point blank, she glanced back up, agitation clear on her face.

The truth and the 'official story' overlapped. The truth.... she was too terrified to tell him what had actually happened. There was not a single doubt in her mind that if she did, he'd know. And that he wouldn't hesitate to end her life as casually as someone else would swat a fly. There wasn't a force in the galaxy that had the power to break that silence yet.

"I was.... taken," she said quietly. This part was true, and came easily. "By someone who required my..... expertise. My knowledge of genetics and viruses. He had a specific bit of Sith Alchemy he needed to recreate...."

She paused, hazel eyes dropping to her hands. The red faced Sith had not hesitated to show his displeasure when she had not been a malleable as he had hoped. It wasn't difficult to lay the blame at his feet- she hated him. She had no qualms about lying as far as his sake went.

"I was..... difficult."

Also true.

"He did not..... find me particularly charming. So when I had completed the task he'd set for me....."

Here she trailed off. He *had* done his level best to show his displeasure. He had broken each finger on both hands, one by one, for her impudence. She'd watched as he'd tried to take away her identity as a Doctor, in that final act. But that had been the extent. A series of injuries healed when she had returned to Panatha.

This was where the 'official story' ended. The implication that this Sith had been the one to do this to her. Technically, everything she had said aloud was true. There was so much more to the story though- to the truth.

But she didn't dare give it voice.

"I've been told since that his name is [member="Vrak Nashar"]," she said, her voice quiet. "I managed to sabotage the virus I created for him. He should be realizing that sometime soon." A ghost of a vindictive smile flickered across her face. Another first. Her hands clenched in her lap.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor leant forward, for at times her voice dipped and she was hard to hear. That cheer and fire he remembered so well had been extinguished. His face was set with a stern expression of concern, thumb rubbing around the finger making small circles to keep his frustration at bay. A little curl of a smile formed on his lips for a second at her smile, but it was short-lived.

Were this a normal situation, or somewhere else, he would kneel before her and offer a reassuring hand or hug, a comforting word or two. But, this was no ordinary place or situation and he figured this was all linked in some dark way.

"I can't believe for a moment that you were difficult. Highly professional, yes, but not difficult unless faced with something morally objectionable, which has always been admirable of you.”

Frowning, working through a bigger minefield than ever at picturing words she hadn't spoken and images she dare not speak of, he laced his hands together and leaned forward a little.

"I'm just glad whatever happened led you to be brought here, and safe. That's what's important, and you will be ok soon. You're a fighter, mentally and physically.”

Glancing around the room, he took in the setup for her, so obviously her talent was now more in the grip of the Sith than ever. Was this Matsu's work? It looked like it, and he could see science, medicine and research being just her thing. But the bigger picture didn't add-up, and she wasn't telling everything.

Not that she had to, at all. It seemed both had changed in the time apart.

It was difficult.

"So...” he said, injecting as much false positive vibes as he could, "do you want to get some fresh air? Take a wal...”

Stopping himself too late, he hissed and hung his head.

"God, I'm sorry Irajah. That was stupid.”

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah grimaced.

"Oh. I was difficult all right," she muttered. "I.... might have told him at one point to, quote, 'Eat hemp and chit rope.'"

She paused for a heartbeat.

"He didn't like that."

Yet one more way her actions had consequences- at the time, she had expected retaliation. After all, that was the point. To make him angry *at her* so he wouldn't hurt Aerith. That, like so much else, had backfired spectacularly. If she hadn't done that, the other woman might be alive now.

Time and time again, it was driven home just how much she couldn't trust herself to act.

Safe.....

She winced involuntarily at that word. She didn't feel safe anywhere these days. Maena was only tolerable because she knew that [member="Matsu Xiangu"] was here.... and that [member="Darth Carnifex"] was not. Panatha? The despite the presence of [member="Darth Prazutis"] and his support and kindness, the looming spectre of the planet's king was never truly banished. And anywhere else?

No.

Irajah breathed in deeply as [member="Connor Harrison"] stepped right in it, letting out a long, low exhale as her eyes cast down to her lap for a moment. When she looked up again, she offered him a ghost of a smile.

"It's okay," she lied. "If you don't mind a sedate pace, we can go out. I'm waiting for a couple of samples to spin down anyway."

That was almost the old Irajah.

Manipulating the controls on the arm of the chair, she backed up. It took a moment to maneuver through the lab- it clearly had not been set up with this in mind. As the two left the lab, the Crownguard fell into step a bit behind them.

"What have you been up to?" She asked suddenly, awkwardly, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor hated being fed sympathy, and he knew how it burnt to know others were looking or speaking with it laced over. Hence why it was hard not to do anything that would echo a sympathetic look or comment as she struggled, her voice dipped and she took her time to move out of the lab in her chair.

He simply stood by, ready to move in and help if needed.

When they left to move down the long corridor that seemed to echo every noise they made, Connor glanced behind at the two brutes following and stared at them for a few seconds each as Irajah spoke.

"What have I been up to,” he repeated, before turning back and looking down to her, matching the speed of her chair. "You can say I am officially in the First Order now, just like I said I would back on Avalonia. It's been days, but I've been shadowing them for a while since we parted and I'm joining their ranks. And, you'll be happy to know, my hand is still doing fine.”

He smiled, giving it a flex for her to see.

"I left for Dxun after we last spoke and I can say things happened there that made the old go, and the new bloom. It's a slower process, but the old Connor is no more. I'm eager to start a new chapter in my life. Going forward, never back.”

Turning his head half again to see the distance of these two...bodyguards, Connor directed his voice to her and her alone.

"What about you? And please, don't lie. What's going on? Why are you here?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

Everyone, it seemed, was changing.

In the moments that she needed stability the most, she was finding no steady ground to stand on.

It left her unbalanced, unsure- and those feelings led to a resentment and even anger, though sorting through the layers of emotion logically was not possible for her at the moment. There was too much of it, weighing, dragging, to see clearly. So when her response came snapping out, heavily laden in sarcasm, it probably surprised both of them a little.

"Oh, well, you know, I'm here to gather daisies in the obsidian fields what in the Maw do you *think* I'm doing here Connor?"

The annoyance was writ clearly across her face. It bubbled from a place far deeper than his question, than this conversation. It held a thousand flecks of anger that had, in truth, very little to do with him directly. But it was still turned on him now.

"This is the only place I can research the Gideon Virus safely. The only place I have found that has the proper protocols in position to deal with a potential mistake. And no matter what else happens- any of it- I must find an answer to that."

She spoke with gritted teeth. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, but only the knuckles on her left hand showed white from the tightness of the hold.

The one thing that overwhelmed everything else she was feeling was the sense of powerlessness. But by continuing this work, this matter that was literally life and death for her- here, at least, she could take some of that back.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor had to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping back at Irajah. Always the way – he came into a situation, and things usually took a turn he didn’t expect. To be fair, neither of them probably expected anything like this.

Her studying the virus was a given. She had shown more passion for that than anything bar her son from the first day they met on Avalonia. But now? Strip away the virus and what was there. Nothing he recognised.

He kept walking by her side, noting the gleaming ivory armour of the hulking guards walking behind. That’s all they were. Guards. To guard the prize inside the cell – it wasn’t their place to interject until probably she gave the word.

Old Connor would stay quiet, shy away. He was dead, and so to hell with the consequences. He was worried and angry for her, and she didn’t deserve what fate had dealt.

"Fine. That.” He pointed to her lap. "Them.” Her hands. "And this.” He tapped his chest, for her heart wasn't bright anymore.

He gave her a firm, hard look.

"Study the virus wherever the hell you like, but I didn’t expect to come to your place and find it almost ransacked, and then trace you here to see you in a cell guarded by these two looking like you’ve been nothing but maimed! What are you? A prisoner? A project? What?”

He swallowed, voice rising. He blew a breath out and looked ahead.

"Look, Irajah. The last time I saw you, you told me things would be alright because I came to you and was there to help. And I’m in a far better place than I was then, so now, again, I am telling you, let me help you.”

It was on the cancelled trip to Panatha where Irajah had reminded Connor that if one were afraid of spiders, she wouldn’t take them to Kessel. Thankfully, the fear he once had was well and truly gone and he was here willing to go into the spider’s nest.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

As the tension in their postures and voices reached them, the distance between the pair and the Crownsguards behind them closed slightly. Irajah was accustomed to her shadows, and barely noticed.

When [member="Connor Harrison"] gestured to her lap she turned her head away sharply, closing her eyes for a moment. It made her physically nauseous to have those things pointed at. As if she wasn't painfully aware of them in every breath. Every movement she made. Every time she reached out to pick something up, or expected her hands to exhibit familiar dexterity, only to be met with programed apathy.

"They are here for my protection," she said, her voice low. "They are the only reason I can even bear to leave my suite on Panatha..... and even then, only just. Every moment here, in the open.... it hurts, Connor. I feel like I can barely breath for the weight of fear. Those two in the armor.... they are a crutch. I know that. But I was taken once..... and the idea that it could happen again is more than I can bear."

Irajah saw them as all of that. As surely as the chair that carried her.

In truth, it was far more complicated than that.

Yes, [member="Darth Prazutis"] had assigned her that guard, ostensibly to keep her safe. Not from [member="Vrak Nashar"], as she claimed aloud. But from their own King, [member="Darth Carnifex"]. So many lies layered upon lies- in truth, they were there to monitor her, report back to Braxus. To keep her safe, of course. But as surely as they were guards, they were in truth equally her jailors. The prison she inhabited had walls of fear- far more effective than any bars or locks could ever be.

"I'm not a prisoner. Or a project-" she said, telling the truth as far as she was aware of it.

For such a smart woman, Irajah was alarmingly blind in this regard.

Her voice broke slightly, dropping to barely a whisper. "And I don't even know what I need. I wouldn't even know what to ask of you."

 

[Connor Harrison]

Sighing quietly, he turned in mid-step and stopped before her and looked up to the two guards who were evidently closer.

"Hey,” he raised his hand, "just back off a minute, ok? Give her some space. Let her breathe without you two down her neck.”

With a frown, he then looked to Irajah, head down and picking her blanket. He knelt on one knee before her and suddenly felt her aura; it was a lot more...inward and corrupt than before. His mind played over a dozen scenarios, coupled with this less-than-ideal situation.

"Raj, who do you need protection from? What happened? You can trust me. I'm not the same fool I was back when I left Dosuun last time.”

He slipped his hand up out of the guards view in her lap and placed a hand on her left hand, and felt the change from flesh and bone to cybernetic digits. Closing his hand, Connor took a moment to touch on her broken bones, the bruised flesh and ruptured organs. His eyes opened sharply, and they were drawn to her head, and the nasty looking bruises hidden by her hair.

"Whatever you need, you tell me. Whatever you need.”

It probably wasn't enough, but the conviction in his voice and serious look in his eyes was as much as he could give her in their current predicament. She didn't deserve this cloud of darkness hanging over her, whatever or whoever had put it there without her will.

[member="Irajah Ven"]

 

[Kuzo]

His comments to the guards had literally the opposite effect than he desired. They actually closed the step further, one looking to Irajah for confirmation before they physically removed him from this space. She shook her head, one sharp movement and while they didn't back off, they also didn't come in to manhandle him.

"I don't recommend antagonizing them," she warned quietly. Her tone made it clear that it wasn't herself that was at risk in that case.

She physically flinched, her hand darting out of his when he reached into her lap. It was deeply reflexive, a mentally painful response to the stimulus of touch that hadn't been there before. She drew her head back, staring down at him for a moment, just a little too much white showing in her eyes. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, was afraid of him.

She didn't trust anyone right now.

Her hand went up to her forehead when his eyes did and she looked away, breaking eye contact.

"They are protecting me from [member="Vrak Nashar"]," she said quietly, repeating the lie that was the official story. "You can't fix this Connor. It's over. It's done."

It was never going to be over for her. Her words were tight, back teeth gritted.

"I just want to forget it ever happened......"

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Maybe the old Connor would take it personally, and take offence. He would no doubt push harder to be involved or to break through harder and harder into the resistance being showed. That did nothing in the past except exacerbate the situation.

The signs were clear; the guards moved closer, she broke eye contact, she made it clear this was ‘over’ and she had venom in her voice.

And also a name, a name he didn’t recognise but wouldn’t forget now. Vrak.

She was surrounded by forces far stronger than he, and people far more powerful. Looking at her for a few seconds, he nodded, refraining from offering a supportive touch or pat. That would, as before, make it worse and unload more anxiety onto the doctor.

"Okay. Alright.”

He gave a smile, one that was sorrowful – for her, and stood.

"I’m going back to my ship across from this building, and I’m flying out back to Avalonia. You have my com chip – maybe, I don’t know. If not, then the First Order will know where to find me.”

He shot a quick glance to the two imposing guards, their outfits and masks akin to that of the Stormtroopers he was allied with before looking back to her.

”I’m sorry, Irajah.”

There was nothing he could do or say that wouldn’t make her worse, and that wasn’t what he wanted at all.

[member="Irajah Ven"]