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Daiyu was loud, bright and Cal loved everything about it. Sure, it was raining and not especially warm, but it was so busy and happy. And the food! He especially loved the food. He could eat here every day for the rest of his life. He’d never had anything so amazing in his entire life. Spices that ignited in his mouth. Desserts that melted on the tongue. Vegetables that didn’t taste only of being boiled but snapped and crackled with every bite. In fact, he was so enthusiastic, Greez promised to pick up a cookbook titled Daiyu’s Greatest Street Food.
In fact, Cal was so fixated on how amazing the food was, it took him a moment to notice something was a little… off.
He could see a squiggle. There, in the corner of his right eye. Whenever Cal looked around, he saw it, flickering away like a piece of static caught in his vision. Blinking didn’t clear it. It also meant every time he tried to read the neon signs around him, the squiggle got in the way. His eye didn’t hurt so he couldn’t have something stuck in it. Still, there it was.
The squiggle.
Weird.
Shrugging it off, Cal finished his dinner (and Cere’s leftovers). He figured he and BD-1 could do some exploration on their way back to the Mantis. Greez and Cere agreed, seeing as they had some business to finish up (apparently Cere had a made several solid investments and that was how she funded pretty much everything they did). Cere’s business sounded unbelievably boring to Cal and BD, so they headed off. BD-1 suggested they could pick up some food for Merrin who, overwhelmed by the sheer busyness of Daiyu, had opted not to leave the ship. Cal understood her feelings, even if he didn’t share them. Dathomir was the literal opposite to this place. Daiyu was a lot to wrap your head around.
To Cal, Daiyu was like a louder, brighter, slightly cleaner version of Bracca’s downtown district. If Bracca was dedicated to hard work, Daiyu offered nothing but fun. On the surface, anyway. Cal might be young, but he wasn’t naïve. Still, he couldn’t help comparing the two loudest places he’d known outside of Coruscant. Bracca had the occasional musician busking until they were moved on by stormtroopers. Here on Daiyu music thrummed through the air, melding into a solid, thumping beat. Cal loved it, even if the rhythm did seem to be literally banging against his skull right now. He’d have to try and add some of the tracks to his collection.
Daiyu was a place where people lived out loud. Even the way they dressed screamed and shouted. Cal had never seen so much colour on so many people. And what was the point of all their accessories? He’d seen a guy wearing a pair of platform boots that had to be at least ten centimetres high. No way could he run in anything like that. One of his friends had a bunch of bangles around their wrists that surely pinched their skin. Why? And people’s hair. How did they fit through doorways with it sticking out like that? And why have it hanging over one eye like that? Wouldn’t that just get annoying? Whatever. Cal already loved Daiyu. He’d happily spend days here if he could. The Force swelled with all the happy, buzzy life of people out for the night having a good time. It coated everything lurking under the surface. When they’d first landed on the planet, Cere told him to shield himself, that his restored Force connection would easily overwhelm him in a place like this. Maybe he did feel kind of giddy, like all the city’s energy buzzed under his skin. Maybe that’s what the squiggle was. And the heaviness in his head. An overreaction to all the people teeming around him. Their joy had infected him. He could see them in their groups, laughing and jostling, heading into clubs and bars, dancing and drinking, not a worry in the galaxy. Well, some of them. Others needed a little chemical help to get there. However they managed it, their happiness frothed around him.
The Empire wouldn’t think to look for him here among all these bubbles.
Something jabbed his back. Cal jumped, realising it was only BD-1 trying to get his attention. Cal had wandered into the street and jerked back before a speeder could knock him down. The horn screeched in his ears. The crowds around him didn’t seem to notice. Why would they? Plenty of people strolled around like vehicles would simply dodge them. BD-1 squawked at him, demanding an answer.
“Sorry, BD, got kinda carried away.” A twist of dizziness sent a gush of nausea through his stomach. “I spaced out.”
This answer did not please BD-1, and he took great care to tell Cal in as prim a tone as his vocaliser could manage.
Cal rolled his eyes, regretting it immediately when the motion made his head give a dizzying throb. “Yeah, yeah, okay, Cere was right. She’s always right.”
Moving back to the nearest sidewalk, Cal took a deep breath and centred himself. He pulled his perceptions back, raised walls around himself. The city lost some of its life and light, even though the neon still glowed against the night sky and bounced off the rain puddles.
His weird squiggle stayed put.
“Hey, BD?”
BD-1 stuck his head over Cal’s shoulder.
“Is there something floating around me? Like a fly or something?”
The answer he received was not reassuring.
“I guess I could be hallucinating,” Cal said, clamping down on the immediate panic that inspired. BD-1 fired off a rapid series of questions. “Uh, no, I definitely haven’t knowingly consumed any illegal substances and the drink I had with dinner tasted totally normal. Same for the food, too. No one’s spiked me. I feel good.”
The worst he’d had recently was an inability to sleep more than a couple of hours for the past two nights. That in turn left him lethargic, although Daiyu’s vibrance soon washed it away. Maybe sleep deprivation was catching up with him.
BD-1 offered to run a scan. Cal turned him down. They couldn’t attract attention here. The Empire didn’t have a strong presence on Daiyu (yet – give them a chance), but they would know if anything stood out, anything like a wanted Jedi. As it was, Cal had been forced to endure a haircut (turned out Greez had a talent for it) and dressed in clothes that were less Bracca rigger and more ‘guy who spent a lot of time travelling’. His missed the pockets his old clothes had, the practicality of his poncho, and the reassuring weight of his chestplate, but he couldn’t deny that his new clothes were less ragged and fairly stylish. His lightsabers were separated and hidden in a pouch in the small of his back. His tattoo, which could’ve been easily hidden by a sleeve, was instead concealed with a longer bracer. He had a whole thing about sleeves. He liked them long, but only so he could roll them up. BD-1 liked it. Greez understood. Cere let it go. Merrin was unimpressed.
BD-1 beeped out a new question, once again dragging Cal’s attention back to the present. He reached up and gave his friend a pat on the head. “Nah, I’m fine. Guess I’ve got something in my eye. I’ll fix it on the ship.”
He kept walking, weaving around the heaving crowd. Credits rattled in his pocket, a gift from Greez to spend on anything except ponchos. Cal had no intention of buying anything. What could he possibly need that he didn’t already have? Besides, shopping could be a dangerous past-time for him. The last thing he needed would be to touch something and have an echo overwhelm him in front of a bunch of strangers and –
And why couldn’t he see people’s mouths?
Cal came to a dead stop in the middle of the market’s path, people bumping into him. BD-1 asked if he was okay before yelling abuse at those jostling Cal.
The people without mouths.
Slipping to one side, Cal stepped under the awning of a stall selling tourist junk like mugs and t-shirts with ‘witty’ slogans scrawled over them. My friend went to Daiyu and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. Did people really buy this stuff? What for? The colours were brash and nauseating. Cal turned away. Maybe Merrin had the right idea after all.
Cal turned back to the street, wincing as the light from the signs caught his eyes wrong. His squiggle gave a sudden flare, gaining blinking lights as, without warning, it curled like a worm around the outer edge of his vision. He waved a hand in front of his face.
His worm squiggle stayed where it was.
A group of people stared at him, laughing and pointing. “Someone’s having a bad trip,” one of then tittered, their voice painfully loud.
“Uh, BD? I think something’s wrong after all,” Cal said.
Worried, BD-1 suggested they get back to the ship. Fast.
Cal nodded. Carefully. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
He could, even if his right eye had lost half its sight, and the mouthless people no longer seemed to have eyes either. Why couldn’t he see properly? It was like a weird haze had fallen over everything.
“Something’s wrong with the whole world,” Cal muttered.
BD-1’s announcement that, actually, something was wrong with Cal was not what Cal wanted to hear. Because if something was wrong with him, it had to be pretty serious if he was going blind, and he was doing so in a strange city.
A strange city full of screaming people, roaring engines, throbbing music, pouring rain…
“Okay, BD, we’re going to the Mantis.” Cal reached for his jacket’s hood, pulling it over his head. There, that blocked some of the light. One hand strayed to his forehead, massaging his temples. He closed his eyes, only to find his squiggle stayed put.
BD-1 gave him a nudge.
“I’m going.” Cal forced his eyes open and started moving. “Just tell me if I go the wrong way.”
Cal barely held back a sigh when BD-1 informed him getting lost here would take a special kind of stupid because it was a straight line back to the spaceport.
The lights hurt Cal’s head in a strange, hard to define way. They were a buzz ricocheting off the insides of his skull, too bright when they’d been just right earlier. However, the real issue was only being able to see out of one eye. It meant his depth perception was totally shot. He tried to use the Force to guide him, but that just made everything brighter, louder and frothier again. He shut himself off and listened to BD’s worried chirping.
“I know, I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me either,” Cal said as he crashed into a man whose balance was worse than his and who had to be one of the drunkest people Cal had ever encountered. The guy roared a ‘Waheeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!’ in Cal’s face, dancing around him, apparently finding the whole thing hilarious. The sound of his voice, coupled with the foul blast of booze-soaked breath going directly into Cal’s face, nearly ended Cal there and then. He staggered back, trying to laugh it off so the jolly man didn’t flip and get violent like the drunks back on Bracca usually did. Thankfully, the guy was too caught up in his night out and went bouncing after the rest of his group, raving and cheering. All of it battered Cal’s heavy, nauseated head.
With an ear-piercing series of beeps, BD-1 told him to keep going. Cal caught his balance on the edge of a stall selling clothing. BD-1 warbled with concern, the sound of it cutting a blazing path across Cal’s head. He hushed his friend and pushed himself off the stall.
They needed to get back to the Mantis quicker.
BD-1 started guiding him, beeping fretfully whenever Cal came close to walking into another person, another stall or, in one memorable incident, a wall. They made it to the spaceport unharmed, although Cal forgot he needed to show his pass until the port agent gave him a look that suggested she’d dealt with enough drunk idiots in her time to know what to do with them. Not that he was drunk, but he didn’t feel like explaining that to her.
Digging his pass out of a pocket, Cal held it out. The woman scanned it, looking bored.
As she waved it back and forth, the scanner caught Cal’s fingers.
“Please help! They’re after me. I have to get out of here. I’ll go anywhere, do anything, just please let me through.”
The woman stared at him. Then her eyes trailed down to the scanner he had grabbed. He saw his bloodied, swollen hand. Maybe he had broken bones when he’d punched out that guard. “Where’s your pass?” she drawled.
What was she talking about? “I don’t have a pass!” His voice crept higher. “I just got out of a lab.”
The woman guffawed. “Yeah, you sound like something that escaped a lab.”
“You have no idea what it’s like! Please, let me through! If they find me, they’ll kill me!”
His shrillness didn’t help. His voice cracked. The woman tried to yank the scanner away, except he wouldn’t let go. He needed to make her understand. She glared at him. “Show me your pass or get lost.”
Tears spilled down his cheeks. “Why won’t you help me? I – ” A deep, frosty chill passed over him. He looked over his shoulder.
They were there. Two droids and their master, who was bigger and carrying more weapons than either of the killing machines standing either side of him.
He turned to the woman, tears blurring his vision. His lips quivered. “If you don’t let me through, they’ll kill me.”
“Not my problem, kid. Should’ve thought about that before you got involved with Death Sticks.” She shoved him away and wrenched the scanner free. “Get lost.”
“Hey! Move on!”
Cal jolted, head spinning, stomach churning. He staggered past the woman, not entirely sure who he was or when. BD-1 beeped but Cal couldn’t focus. With one eye now totally blind, he’d finally realised what this was.
Migraine. Bad, terrible, horrible migraine, with a lingering echo draped over the top of it.
They’ll kill me.
Cal and BD-1 made it back to the Mantis. Merrin looked up from where she worked at the galley table. She’d clearly been studying the flight technical manuals again, completely serious about learning basic piloting. She frowned at Cal.
“You are paler than usual,” she said. Then, tactful as ever, Merrin added, “You look like death warmed up.”
BD-1 hopped down as hot, sweaty heat roiled through Cal. He needed to lie down, right now, or he was going to throw up. He didn’t care if he was in the middle of the deck. He couldn’t stay on his feet. He crouched down on all fours and slowly lowered himself to the deck.
Better. That felt better. His stomach settled, his headache dulling. He could stay here and everything would be –
Droids and their master coming for him. They’re coming. No. No, no, no please, no, they couldn’t take him back when he fought so hard to get out. He won’t go back there. No!
Cal dry-wretched himself back to the Mantis, to the present. “Shit,” he breathed.
He heard Merrin hurrying over, felt every vibrating of her footsteps through the deck. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He was okay. He knew what this was now. He’d just never had a regular migraine and an echo migraine all at the same time.
“What is it?” Merrin asked, her voice louder than thunder. “What happened?”
“Migraine,” Cal said, keeping his voice low.
Clearly unimpressed with Cal’s half-truth, BD-1 corrected him. Every beep, every whistle, stabbed into Cal’s head. “Stop, BD, please,” Cal moaned. “Too loud.” He pressed the heel of his hand against his blinded eye, willing the pain to subside.
BD-1, horrified and apologetic, brought his volume down and instead pressed his cool head against Cal’s burning one. Cal sighed. The cold felt so good.
“I will call Cere,” Merrin announced.
“No, no, no, shhhh,” Cal said. “Please, don’t worry her.”
Merrin sat at his side and, like BD-1, kept her voice low. “You require medicine.”
He required darkness, silence and –
He needed to get through. He had to find somewhere to hide, find a way off Daiyu. Why wouldn’t this woman help? “I don’t have a pass!”
Warm hands closed around Cal’s. Merrin’s voice filled his mind, cutting through the echo. “Focus on my voice,” she said. “Stay with us.”
Cal heard BD-1 chime in with a soft trill.
“Sorry,” Cal breathed.
“You were gone for a minute,” Merrin said. “I have called Cere. She will bring medicine. She said you’d be more comfortable in bed. Can you move?”
Could he? Cal considered it. “Not yet.” He was on the verge of throwing up. Maybe fainting. Whatever it was, it’d be messy. If he let everything settle for a few more minutes, he might be okay.
“What was the echo?” Merrin asked.
Talking was not helping, but he didn’t want Merrin worrying. “Someone running away.” He paused, feeling the Force closing around him, bringing the echo back. “I think he was – ”
They’d found him. They’d found him and this stupid woman wouldn’t let him through. He turned back to her, and only his Jedi training kept him from using the Force to shove her out of his way.
“Cal?”
He jolted back to the present, to his own life. His stomach lurched, and he barely kept his food down. His eyes sprung open, Merrin’s blurry, half-obscured face filling his vision. She looked worried. She reached for his hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.
“You keep drifting,” she said. “Is this normal?”
It took a lot of effort to speak. “S’bad echo.” A powerful one. It wouldn’t let go. Cal closed his eyes again. Everything was too bright. He wanted to focus on the echo so it would pass, but he couldn’t do it. Instead, he was caught in the memory of a lost and desperate Jedi. What if he was still here somewhere? What if this had happened recently? Cal couldn’t get a feel for it, couldn’t work out far into the past he was seeing.
“Can I help?”
He twisted his hand in Merrin’s grip so he could squeeze it back, because the answer was very much ‘no’. He just couldn’t get it out unless she wanted to run the risk of being thrown up on.
Cal tried to save that for the people he didn’t like.
Over the next few minutes, his stomach settled. Feeling brave, he opened his eyes and found his sight fully restored. He shaded his eyes against the light trying to scoop eyeballs out of his skull with a rusty spoon.
“Sorry,” Merrin said. “I do not know how to dim them.”
Cal realised he didn’t either.
Thankfully, BD-1 did, and Cal didn’t even care that he’d be risking the Wrath of Greez when he whistled, took off, and the distinct sound of a scomp link filled the air. Next thing Cal knew, the lights all dimmed. He let out a sigh of relief. Better. That was so much better. “Thanks, BD.”
BD whistled a quiet response.
With his eyes open and his stomach relatively calm, Cal made up his mind. “I think I can get up.”
“Slowly,” Merrin advised. “You are still very pale.”
Merrin helped him up, and he shifted himself to the nearby couch. BD-1 bounced onto Cal’s lap, keeping quiet. Cal let his head fall back against the cushions.
Get away. Get away! Don’t let them catch up. No going back. He couldn’t go back.
“Can’t go back where?” Merrin asked.
“No, not me,” Cal said. “The echo. The guy was a Jedi.”
Cal’s head gave a nasty throb. Sitting up was not a good idea. He eased himself onto his side, BD-1 moving until he sat himself beside Cal’s head. “Please do not scan me,” Cal told his friend. “No lights.” He raised an arm and dropped it over his eyes. He needed pitch black. He needed to –
He knew he was going to die.
The Force, like the Jedi, had abandoned him.
Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Cal reached for the Force to release the echo. He snapped back with a soft cry. The Force was too much, too full, too frothy, and his head couldn’t take anymore.
Merrin and BD-1 both dodged when he finally lost the battle his stomach.
“You are fortunate my magick can clean this up before Greez returns,” Merrin said, her power brushing up against his Force connection no matter how much he shielded himself. “He would not be quiet.”
“Sorry,” Cal grunted. He rolled away, the smell almost tipping him over the edge again.
Both Merrin and BD-1 told him not to apologise. He couldn’t help having a migraine or the aftereffects of an echo.
Aftereffects? The echo wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t get rid of it.
“BD, perhaps you should wait on the ramp for Cere and Greez,” Merrin said. “You can tell Greez he must stay quiet when he returns.”
Naturally, BD-1 thought this was an excellent idea and took off immediately.
Alone. He was alone. There wasn’t another Jedi left in the galaxy who could help him.
Cal pulled his knees up to his chest. He couldn’t stand it. A Jedi, trapped and alone and…
And no matter how many times the echo replayed, no matter how deep it clawed its way in, it had no ending. Just over and over and over. A Jedi on the run with no one to help him and nowhere to go.
Caught by the very person he wanted to escape.
Maybe. The echo wasn’t conclusive.
Frustration crackled in Cal’s gut no matter how hard he strived to remain calm. He really didn’t need to be emotionally overwhelmed right now.
“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have the past open up like it does for you,” Merrin said.
“Usually it’s fine,” Cal said. He massaged the back of his sore, aching neck. “Today it sucks.”
By the time Cere and Greez returned, Cal had rolled onto one side and attempted to will himself to sleep. He was eternally grateful everyone stayed quiet, even if he felt bad about forcing it upon them all.
“Cal?” Cere sat carefully at his side. “I’ve got some painkillers for you. I think we should get you to bed before you take them. You’ll be more comfortable.”
Walking – moving other than breathing – was not an option.
Watching him. They were watching him. They didn’t need to make a move because they knew he had nowhere else to go.
This was the end.
Cal’s breath caught in his throat. The other Jedi’s fear rattled around inside him. He couldn’t get free himself of it. His body tensed, ready to run.
Except he didn’t need to run. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to.
“C’mon, kid, we can all see you’re suffering.” Greez spoke softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I can get him there,” Merrin said.
She didn’t wait for anyone’s permission. One moment Cal was on the couch, the next he was on his bunk in the engine room. He closed his eyes as the ship did a barrel roll around him.
“There,” Merrin said, green fire fading from her fingertips. “In bed.”
“A little warning next time?” Cal asked, trying not to throw up again.
“I just got out the lab. You have no idea what it’s like!”
“Yeah, you sound like something that escaped a lab.”
“Please, let me through! If they find me, they’ll kill me!”
A sharp bite at Cal’s neck preceded a sudden, chilly rush of pain relief. He released a deep sigh. “That feels really good.”
Cere chuckled. “I’m sure it does.”
Cal cracked open an eye. “Thank you.”
“We will leave you go get some rest,” Merrin said.
Tension bled out of Cal. He heard BD-1’s feet tip-tapping across the deck, felt his bed dip when the droid landed next to him. He rolled over onto his other side, and finally felt enough pain drain away to allow him to relax. Moments later, a cold compress came to rest over his head. It felt so good it brought tears to his eyes.
Sleep followed shortly after.
Cal awoke to darkness, the ship’s emergency lighting the only active source. It was exactly what his still aching head needed, darkness bathing him.
“BD?” Cal called.
He heard nothing in response. Unexpected, but not totally unusual. Someone had probably told BD-1 to leave Cal alone, let him sleep off the worst of the migraine and the echo. Looking over, he saw that the engine room’s door was shut, the control panel beside it glowing. Everyone had to be in the lounge. Standing, Cal waited for his equilibrium to settle. His head gave a lethargic, half-hearted thud. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to stop him. It wasn’t even in the same league as his earlier pain.
He felt halfway Human again.
Preparing himself for an onslaught of light and sound, Cal tapped the control to open the door. It slid back.
Darkness waited beyond.
The others didn’t need to go this far for him. Cal stepped out of the engine room.
His foot didn’t hit the deck. It hit bare concrete. Cal frowned and looked down.
It wasn’t the Mantis beneath him.
This wasn’t the ship. It wasn’t any ship.
…where…?
Looking up, he saw a grey corridor, lit only by a single flickering light. A door waited for him at the far end. The air reeked of sharp chemicals, every whiff bringing tears to Cal’s eyes. What was that? You could strip an engine with chemicals like that.
Cal kept moving, closer and closer to the door. He became aware of a sound coming from the other side. Voices. Loud. Angry. He felt a strange prompt from the Force.
Turn back.
Run.
Get out of here.
Go!
Now!
Cal stepped back.
The door opened.
Three figures stood on the threshold, silhouettes bathed in blinding light.
“I knew it. Of course it’s you. It had to be. No one else can do what you do,” a voice said, choked with the smoke of a thousand Death Sticks. “You leave what you took, and this doesn’t end in you being beaten to death.” A crooked, phlegm-drenched laugh. “It ends quicker. Blaster bolt to the head. Hah!”
Cal was suddenly aware of a weight pressed against his back. He reached round, hand closing on a package wrapped in cloth.
Death Sticks.
He’d –
– seen them on –
– helped manufacture them on –
– Bracca.
– Daiyu.
“What’s it gonna be, fool?”
Cal turned and ran, fear and need screaming through him.
Fear of what would happen.
Need to escape.
Go.
Go, go, go!
Cal ran.
The voice shouted after him. “I knew you’d run! Just like a coward! Guess them Jedi morals got the better of you after all!”
Another door waited for him at the other end of the corridor. A figure stood in front of it. A security guard. Cal didn’t think, he reacted, his fist smashing the man’s face. Bone cracked, blood exploded. The Force soured as the life went out of the guard in a heartbeat. Cal didn’t have time to let the emotions kick in. He had to go. Cal burst through the doorway, found himself in the city’s streets, surrounded by people who didn’t have a clue. Didn’t get it. Came for fun when all around them people were desperate and dying. They laughed and shouted and danced. They formed a wall of flesh whether they meant to or not.
He shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and pushes. There were hands everywhere, grabbing and tugging, slowing him down, stopping him.
“Let go!” He tore himself free of one person, only for another to grab him.
What’s your problem, man?
Yeah, chill out. This is Daiyu!
It’s a party!
Yeah, who died?
Slow your roll! Have a drink. Shit, have ten! You are wound tight, mate!
They pulled and dragged and crushing and –
“Hey, hey, wake up!”
– and she won’t let him through. She’s the reason he’s going to die, after everything he’s –
Another hand grabbed him. Cal ripped his arms free, a wordless cry of frustration breaking free. He turned, ready to fight.
“Whoa, hey, there he is!”
Panting for breath, Cal snapped back to reality. Dim lights revealed the ship’s familiar sights.
He wasn’t crushed in a crowd. It was Greez shaking him awake.
“Steady, Cal,” Greez said, making a space for himself on the bed. “Breathe, okay. Just breathe. You’re safe.”
Slowly, Cal got his breathing under control and with it felt his heartrate drop. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I know you can’t help this stuff. C’mon, let’s get you up for a minute.” Greez grabbed Cal’s arm, dragging him upright. “You were out for hours. We left you as long as we could, but all that talking got me worried. Sounded like a rough nightmare. You okay?”
Blinking hard, Cal tried to ground himself. It wasn’t working. He still had one foot firmly in a dream world. “I… I was…”
Escape.
Get out!
Greez ran a pair of hands up and down Cal’s back. “Wake up a bit more for me and –”
Slumped over, Cal scrubbed his eyes. He didn’t feel very awake at all. He felt stuffed full of wool, his head too light as it pulsed every so often with an unexpected wave of dizziness. Had he ever felt this bad after an echo? He didn’t think so. Then again, he’d never had a migraine before an echo… He reached for the Force, only to push it back. No, nope, nu-uh. Way too much.
And what was that weird, warbling noise filling the air?
Oh.
It was Greez talking. At least he had been talking. He’d paused, waiting for a response.
Cal blinked at him. “What?”
“Ah, Cal,” Greez sighed with obvious affection. “I asked if your head still hurts.”
Cal considered this question. “Feels better,” he eventually decided aloud. He yawned and let his eyes close again. Another thought hit him. “You kept the lights dim.”
“Yeah, I did. Either that or BD would’ve locked me out my own damn cockpit. We’ve had words.”
The idea of Greez trying to lay down the law with BD made Cal smile.
“Think you’re done with your echo?”
He could feel it falling away, albeit kicking and screaming. Distance meant he could sense now that it wasn’t recent, that there was nothing he or anyone could do to find or help the Jedi who had tried to escape.
It didn’t really make him feel any better.
“Cal?”
“Oh.” He opened his eyes. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“I was gonna try and get you up, but maybe you should stay right here,” Greez said. “I brought you some water.” He reached down and plucked a bottle off the floor. “Get that down you and you can go back to sleep.”
Cal did as he was told, easing himself back against his pillows as soon as he’d had his fill of water. Eyes closed, he let Greez fuss, pulling a blanket over him and putting a fresh cold compress over his head.
“Okay, kiddo, back to sleep.”
Cal did not need telling twice.
Cal had absolutely no idea what time it was the next time he woke up. He just knew he needed to pee and not going was not an option. He made his way to the ‘fresher in an almost straight line. He took care of business and even brushed his teeth to freshen up. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, saw his pale face and wild hair. Whatever. He did not care. He made his way back out and teetered his way out to the galley, bumping into the bulkheads. His brain wasn’t quite awake enough yet to clear the blur from his eyes. At least both of them were working again, the squiggle now just a memory.
He found BD-1 on the galley table. In his excitement, BD-1 let out a loud whistle. Cal held out a hand to hush him. “Shhh, not so loud.” At least the lights were still dim. The tightness in his head told him bright and loud were not acceptable yet.
BD-1 whispered an apology.
“It’s okay,” Cal said, opening a cupboard and reaching for a glass. He was so thirsty. “Just not ready for much yet.”
“Good morning, Cal. How are you feeling?”
He nearly launched a glass at Cere’s head.
She held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry.” She smiled. “Still a bit out of it I see.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah.”
BD-1 chuckled and suggested Cal sit down before he broke something.
“BD’s right.” Cere plucked the glass from his hand. “Go, sit. I’ll get you some water.”
Figuring he was likely to trip over his own feet if he tried to go down any stairs, Cal dropped into a seat at the galley’s table. He used his arms as a pillow. He was still exhausted in a weird, floaty way. His thoughts had to trek through soupy mud. “How long was I asleep?”
“Twelve hours,” Cere said. She placed the now full glass in front of him.
“Oh.” He sipped the water, relishing the cool liquid as it washed away his thirst. “Needed it.”
“Yes, you did, and if you need more you can go back to bed,” Cere said.
“M’okay,” Cal mumbled.
“Of course you are,” Cere said. “So, the echo. Is it anything to worry about?”
Cal traced a finger down the glass, condensation finding every groove in his skin. “No. He was a Jedi, caught up in the drug trade. He tried to escape. I don’t think he did. I’m not sure though.” The echo didn’t exactly have a neat and tidy ending. “It feels far away now I’m not stuck in it.” He watched air bubbles gathering in the water. “It’s hard to tell what was real and what I dreamt now.”
“We’ll never save them all,” Cere said.
“I wish we could save more,” Cal replied.
“I know.”
He felt her hand press against the back of his head, fingers raking through his hair. He leaned into her touch, feeling himself relaxing. He could feel himself drifting back off to sleep.
Until Cere spoke again.
“Your hair looks like all those people I saw last night going in and out of the bars. You’d fit right in.”
BD-1 buzzed with laughter.
Groaning, Cal buried his head in his arms. The very thought of listening to music right now, of being in a club with thumping music and flashing lights, made him want to crawl into the darkest, quietest hole he could find and never come out.
“Maybe we’ll go clubbing next time,” Cere said.
BD-1 let out a curious beep.
“Oh, I know a move or two,” Cere replied.
“Have those moves been used in the past twenty years?” Cal asked.
“You know maybe I will turn on every light,” Cere said. “And I should probably check in with the Empire’s communications network, loudly, make sure I haven’t missed anything.”
Cal sat up enough to finish his water. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Probably for the best,” Cere said.
Cal stood up. BD-1 took his usual place. Cere hovered in case Cal lost his balance.
“Stay in bed until you’re feeling better,” she said.
“Better enough to go clubbing?” he asked, plodding back to the engine room.
“Sounds like a plan.”