Hostile || Cal Kestis

03 | A Fortunate Prospect

"hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness." - Desmond Tutu

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The Mantis came to a quiet stop as it settled on the landing bay of the Polis Massa base. Through the windshield of the ship they could see countless asteroids drifting amongst the stars. Their arrival had stirred little motion outside, but Cal still remained defensive with the hilt of his lightsaber on hand and BD-1 on his shoulder as he stood in front of the exit of the ship. Merrin stood beside him as she used her powers to carry Trilla. They had already agreed that Greez would stay behind to ensure they could escape safely.

The door opened with a hiss and they were met with three Polis Massans, all of them with their gray thick skin and thin bodies. But the most remarkable thing about them was their flat, pale faces were featureless apart from a pair of black eyes. And even then, their eyes expressionless.

"How can we help you?" The voice asked softly, in his head.

Hairs on his neck raised in response, unnerved by their form of communication. This wasn't the Force - this was something else. Something he couldn't explain, which probably explained his uncontrollable reaction.

He couldn't deny that he had expected hostile beings but he was surprised that they were rather compassionate ones considering that they were helping strangers. Cal approached them, withdrawing his lightsaber as he did and Merrin followed, moving Trilla's body with her.

"She needs help," he responded. "She has a lightsaber wound, it's deep."

The Polis Massans shared a look and two GH-7 droids appeared from inside the base.

"We will help. These droids will carry her to our medical facility. If you will follow us, we can take you there."

"Thank you."

Merrin looked at him strangely as he spoke to them, unaware of their telepathic communication. He only nodded at her, showing his trust in these people and she handed Trilla over to the droids. They placed her on a white stretcher, speedily taking her inside to begin their medical analysis with one of the Polis Massans accompanying them. Cal and Merrin trailed behind the two Polis Massans as they led the way to wherever the medical facility was.

"I'm Cal Kestis," he offered. "This is Merrin."

"It is nice to meet you Cal Kestis and Merrin, I am Xelif Tuff and this is Dznori Xamuun, we are exobiologists on Polis Massa. Otara Scal is one of our physicians who will help your friend."

Merrin looked at them, her head tilting in much interest as they spoke to her. Cal was only concerned with her disinterest with how they communicated - had this not been the first time someone had spoke in her head?

"What is her name?"

"Trilla Suduri," he answered. He waited a moment before asking, "Will she be alright?"

"We have a high-quality medical center which is highly equipped and skilled physicians here. There is little to worry about."

They reached the medical facility, the corridors were gray and simply lit with tubes of light across the them. Above them was a barrier of glass and it was immaculately clean, enough that he had thought that there was no ceiling at all. When they had reached her room, he could see her lying on a bed with Ostara and the two droids inside, continuing to analyse her wound and spraying something on it. Trilla was attached to many machines, each making their own unique beeps.

One of the GH-7 droids exited the room and approached them.

"She is in no fatal danger. The wound is deep, but we are reducing the risk of infection by cleaning it. For reasons we can't explain, she is still unconscious."

"Will she wake up?" Cal asked worriedly.

The droid turned to him. "It is still unclear. We will do everything we can to heal her wound."

He let out a resigned sigh.

She was alive and she would survive this, but that didn't mean that she would be awake. And he needed her to be awake and to be here. He didn't know why he needed her conscious so desperately. Maybe it was because he needed to know for certain that she was okay or maybe it was because he still felt alone despite Merrin and Greez's presence.

"Do not fret, Cal Kestis. Let our physician do her duties and you will see your friend soon. In the meantime, you can rest and eat."

They began to lead the way to what he assumed was some type of lodging or canteen for them, and Merrin began following them but he still stood, rooted to the spot.

"Cal?" Merrin asked in a concerned tone.

"I'm going to stay here. Just in case." She waited for a few more moments, unsure whether to question his decision but he nodded at her to follow Xelif and Dznori. He looked at her reassuringly with a smile. "You go ahead."

"I'll be back soon."

He nodded.

When they had disappeared from view, he looked back into the room. Watching as the droids and Ostara worked effortlessly in the peripheries of his focus, his eyes only on Trilla. She no longer emanated the darkness of her pain and suffering, like waves crashing against a rocky surface. Instead it was soothed by her unconsciousness and more importantly by her decision to turn on Nur. He had never seen her so tranquil and at peace until now - it was mesmerising to him.

He only hoped that she would keep that peace when she awoke.

○

It had been a week.

Cal sat on the chair beside Trilla's bed. BD-1 was trying his best to take his mind off of her, but with every little exchange they had and any attempt to make him laugh he was hit with that silence. He didn't realize quite how deafening the absence of sound could be. It reminded him of Nur, drowning in the darkness of the water while barely clutching onto her - and Cere.

There were moments, and he was ashamed to admit it, that he forgot. He forgot how much it hurt, the dull sting of grief. At least he knew why it hurt more now than before. Forgetting had only made the realization a heavier burden to bear. It lulled him into a false sense of ease before striking, kicking him to the ground until there was nothing left but the hollowness of his own guilt.

Merrin was worried about him. He knew she was keeping an eye on him, though he was unsure if it was because of her own determination or because Greer had told her to. She had offered several times over the week to take watch so that he could eat or sleep or do something other than sit in that damn chair waiting for her to wake up. But nothing could change his mind. Not when it came to her.

"You haven't eaten in days. What help will you be to her if you are weak?"

He remained quiet.

"They told you that they are doing what they can. Sitting there won't change anything," Merrin argued again for the twelfth time.

"You don't know that."

"Cal..."

He sighed, deflated by her attempts. "Just, just let me do this. Please."

She looked at him for the longest time before she shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she exited the room. The door shutting with a louder slam than usual.

BD-1 turned to him with a beep.

"Not you too," he muttered frustratedly.

He took his head in his hands.

Sitting there won't change anything.

She was right. It didn't change anything for Trilla. But it helped him in some strange way. Like being in her presence, sensing her Force and recognized the turmoil and the peace in his own, calmed him. He couldn't explain that to his friends, he wasn't sure if he could clearly explain it to himself. But that didn't matter.

There was a sound.

He took his head out of his hands and looked towards Trilla.

Did she...? Or was he imagining?

He shook his head and leaned forward, his hand stretching out to adjust the blanket that was over her but was stopped by a hand. Trilla's hand.