Private Lie Between The Lines

[Morrow]

New Vertica - Mainframe Cantina
Some would rather see you die than be free...
Talin Treicolt
​

It had been over a week since Talin departed from On The Mauve with 'important Jedi stuff' to do. Morrow didn't ask her to elaborate; he had his own important things to do. Though his errands were wrapped up in the Black Sun's wont. Something she'd warned him about, but he'd neglected to heed. More specifically, it had been one day since she'd contacted him, asked to link back up, or rather, announced that she was coming. Thankfully, Morrow had concluded all outstanding tasks, because her insistence didn't seem flexible to rescheduling.

It came at a strange time. Morrow had been grappling with a strange feeling, a notion that seemed to maintain that something had happened. What something? He couldn't figure that out. Morrow wasn't one to worry, so when the feeling refused to leave his gut, he knew it had to be something. His gut was scarcely wrong about anything. Talin's communication had been the confirmation he needed that it wasn't an overabundance of thought. Before, their correspondence had been sparse, mostly confirmations that they were alive or not in any significant trouble. Then, suddenly, it became urgent, like the Jedi stuff had concluded, or maybe didn't matter anymore.

Thankfully, his meeting with Mauve du Vain took some pressure off the bounty looming over his head. Or so he thought.

Morrow stood at their meeting place, just in front of the Mainframe's bar. He watched a bolo-ball game on one of several massive holoscreens, though he was largely uninterested in the outcome. The bartender droid served him something dark, fizzy, and faintly alcoholic. In between sips, he scanned the patronage, waiting for that mane of blonde to come his way.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Eyes followed her as she broke past the crowd loiterin' outside and stepped through the doorway. Maybe she looked lost, or just plain wrong to be in a place like this. Or maybe they could see the shadows left by her encounter on Atrisia. Unfit for human consumption, Talin loathed every step forward. Two days in the stars had left her with a lot of time to think - for all the heartache and pain to fester. By the time she had landed, the roil in her chest was a burden too heavy to bear. She could have rolled over and died in the gutter of Nar Shaddaa, if not for the glimmer o' grace at the end of her journey. There was one person she knew would never lay guilt at her feet and demand judgement. He was guilty, too.

Shuffle shifted to stride when she spotted him. Just him standin' there, provin' so unreliably reliable, was enough to let her breath again. There were no greetings when she crossed the distance of the room. The intensity of her gaze left nearby patrons starin', like the two might pull their blasters and start shootin'. Instead, Talin flung herself at Morrow, arms wrapping around his neck to draw him in. Her lips searched for his.

"Ya don't know how much I've missed ya." She murmured when they broke apart, buryin' her face into raven locks.

 

[Morrow]

Morrow's drink was nearly knocked from his hand with Talin's sudden surge. He set it down just in time, half-reciprocating her embrace at a lesser angle. Whatever distant anxiety he was drowning faded further into a remote corner of his mind when the kiss came. No words met hers initially; silence lingered in the embrace. Morrow kept one arm across her lower back, receiving faint whiffs of her hair with each breath.

A point was scored in the bolo-ball game, and the patrons around them erupted in conflicting reactions. It was a good cue to separate.

"I had this weird feeling, as if..." he trailed off, not entirely sure why he was bringing it up immediately. He gave her a slow look over, eyes scanning up and down. Scooping one hand, then the other, he held them up halfway, checking her over. She didn't look hurt, though the back of her right hand had the unmistakable signs of a melee. "...something happened."

It was a far-off feeling of anguish that he somehow associated with her. Her anguish? He couldn't pin it as pain, loss, or something else. It was hard to understand, and even harder to explain. There was a small notion that it was the Force, something like what she'd shown him not so long ago, but he wasn't keen on entertaining the suspicion.

Blue eyes stared down at her expectantly, anticipating some kind of explanation.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

"Weird feelin', huh?" Doubt colored her gaze. "I..."

How did she explain all that had occurred in the span of a week? With a stiff drink. Pullin' away from him, Talin turned to lean against the counter, eyeing the bottles on the wall. The droid greeted her inspection silently. She was more thinkin' about what he said than her order. A weird feeling. A lucky blaster. There had been no doubt in her mind since she put it together about the dreams. Convincin' him was gonna be another story.

"Whiskey, neat." Her attention flickered back to Morrow sidelong. "Ya know what that sounds like, don't ya?"

The words were only half teasing. When the bartender brought her glass, she took it before it could be set down and knocked half the thing back in a single swallow. The burn brought with it enough emotional numbness to move forward with her recap.

"'Nother Jedi confronted Jon 'bout the Drop. Wasn't lookin' for trouble, just wanted to know, I guess. Boyfriend was the human shield. Talsin started some chit tryin' to arrest Jon afterward."

Highest level, missin' the worst of it and the anger beneath the surface. Her glass rose again to be drained of its contents.

 

[Morrow]

Morrow knew exactly what she thought it sounded like. He didn't humor it, meeting her assertion with a soft lour. "It was just a feeling," he contended.

The explanation that followed made it seem even more so. That didn't seem like the kind of thing someone would have a half-baked premonition over. Why would the Force care about some trivial dispute? Maybe it was just worry. Yet another thing unlike him conjured up by the strange feelings Talin stirred up. He clenched his jaw just thinking about it.

"You punched him?" Morrow asked, jaw still stiff. He'd extrapolated from the state of her knuckles.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

“Yup.” Fingers splayed with the confirmation like they remembered the feeling. “He was gonna take Jon, and then started all this talkin’, and..”

Talin’s torso seemed to writhe with the recollection. Eyes shut, her body rolled, as if she could get away from the memory. The revelry of the wider bar hid the hushed words between them.

“I lost it. About shot him. Jon lost it, too, after. Talsin was real bad off. Probably won’t heal up pretty… and I don’t think Su will ever forgive me.”

If Talsin was dead, she was pretty sure her and her sister’s relationship went with it. If he wasn’t, Tansu mighta been able to find mercy in her… but Talsin would never let them forget well enough to mend the wounds. The droids programming must have been keyed to pick up anguish and provide the remedy, because another glass was delivered without request. Talin finally opened her eyes and took a slower sip.

“You shoulda heard him, Morrow. He thought Jon was a monster for a single weequay. What does that make us?”

Something so much worse, she knew.

 

[Morrow]

Subtle disgust crept its way across Morrow's face, nostrils flaring and lip threatening to curl away from his teeth. An acrid twinge of jealousy surfaced at her mention of going to bat for Jon. That man, who looked at Talin with a longing in his eyes that made Morrow want to pluck them out. He'd first noticed it at The Drop, but couldn't have cared less at the time. Morrow had forgotten all about it until Serolonis, where it had struck a particularly wrathful cord. It likely didn't help that neither of them had elaborated on their relationship, whatever it was supposed to be. Only the crew of the On The Mauve had any inclination of what was going on. Even worse, she was out there, doing her important Jedi stuff with him?

A crack rolled up the glass in his hand, the sound of its splintering drowned by the din of the Mainframe's patrons.

Morrow cleared his throat, forcing composure to return as he set the drink down. Somehow, it didn't leak. They should have taken him, thrown him in a pit somewhere to rot—was what he wanted to say. Not that he cared for Jon snagging the weequay for cover. Morrow didn't think he could be blamed for that. COMPNOR was there to kill them all; survival was all that mattered. It was an envious rebuke. One better kept locked away.

"I don't care what Talsin thinks," Morrow dismissed. And why would he? Had Talsin ever been shot? Had Talsin ever felt his life slip away from a bolt to the ribs? What value did his opinion have with such ignorance? Who was he to moralize survival? Sounds like he got what he deserved.

"I might have done the same thing, had I thought of it," he confessed in regards to the weequay. "Beats getting killed."

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Confusion rolled across her brow like tumbleweed. He didn't care what Talsin thought - but there was anger simmerin' beneath as she told the story. Was it simply because he knew it upset her? That didn't seem likely. There was somethin' Talin couldn't decipher underneath She'd let him keep that secret, and turned her lean to face the crowd instead. Human shield wasn't her style - she'd sooner dive in front of the plasma - but there was somethin' comfortin' about knowin' he agreed. It wasn't her and Jon standin' in defiance just 'cause.

"I only care what he thinks 'cause Su is gonna listen to him." A grimace formed across her lips. "Me and him had bad blood already 'bout that."

Whatever team this corner of the galaxy supported scored another point. Talin watched as the joy came so easily to their faces, undeterred by anything beyond these four walls.

"Dunno if I'm goin' back to the Jedi. Might drop in and help every now and again, but..." That planet wasn't big enough for both sides, and they belonged there more than she did. Any master would easily spot the darkness creepin' at the corners of her mind. "What're you doin' on Nar Shaddaa anyways?"

 

[Morrow]

Cloak-shrouded shoulders shrugged, "Want me to kill him?" Morrow asked outright. No sign of jest resided in his timbre. Tansu couldn't get her convictions from a corpse.

An expression not usually seen framed by his black half-curls couldn't contain itself when she mentioned not returning to Jedi obligations. It almost looked hopeful, though it was awkward from unfamiliarity, and just as fleeting as the words Talin spoke. It was hard enough to ask her to stay last time; he couldn't fathom bringing up that she could keep flying with him now. The timing felt terrible, and the jury was still out about how the crew of the On The Mauve had felt about her previous tenure. Pleased wasn't the word he'd use.

Nerve burners. They were jealous.

"Work," Morrow replied. "Pretty good cred out here." He'd be paying her tab tonight. From the sound of it, she was likely to run it up.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

"Hmphm." He wasn't joking, but the callback still made her snicker. "Would just make it worse."

Work. Something she didn't even want to consider. The book still hadn't fully recovered its reputation on Denon, and too many of their regulars had found another bookie in their absence. Rolling the dice of steppin' on someone's turf here wasn't somethin' she wanted to try - Nar Shaddaa was too foreign.

"Guess I should try to pick somethin' up, too. Back to huntin'." Then, as casually as she could muster, despite the internal conflict: "Ain't this Black Sun turf, though?"

 

[Morrow]

"Yeah," Morrow croaked.

Dark liquid bubbled as he moved the drink again. The beverage ran precariously over the thin crack in his glass with his next sip. It was slow, delaying the confirmation of what he knew she'd already gathered. What was left of it fizzled inaudibly when it was reacquainted with the bar, bubbles dancing in a thin puddle at the bottom.

"That's why the cred is good."

She'd warned him not to get mixed up with Black Sun, but there wasn't much of anything else to get mixed up in. Misdeeds had become his business, and around here, business was good.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Morrow was spared any lectures, but her worry didn't cease. He was damn well smart enough to know what he was gettin' himself wrapped up in - and Talin had already warned him. At the very least, if he was gonna hang at the gallows, she'd be there, too. Huntin' left no choice but to circle the fringes of the syndicate. They had the best contracts. That knowledge soured her mood further. A hand beckoned for a double round, while she downed the remainder of her glass. The fresh quickly followed, then the remainder of Morrow's drink, too.

Sorrow refused to be drowned in drink.

It was suddenly all too much. It was all wrong. The crowd, the thought of Morrow being wrapped up with them again. Huntin'. That's what had sent her chargin' across that line between light and dark the first time. She was supposed to be a Jedi. That's why she had come to the core. And most of all, Tansu. She kept seein' that same look of contempt twist her sweet sister's features play in her head, before piercing her heart with the question that had sent her running.

"I need to get outta here. I gotta room."

Emotion was threatenin' to spill over, but she choked it down, silent lest speech break her restraint. Leading Morrow by the hand, Talin navigated their way to the door, stumblin' only slightly. She let him catch up in the streets, leanin' on his cloaked shoulder for support. A neon moon's light painted them on their short walk. Stagnant air filled her lungs. Even breathin' wasn't clean here.

Her senses weren't so dulled to forget the way, though at one point they had to loop back and go the other way. The place wasn't anything fancy. She fumbled with keypad, incurring errors twice before the doors slid open. Outdated, the accommodations offered bare necessities with stained carpet. A small living area made up of a couch and two chairs surrounded an industrial table. Beyond an open wall, the bed was in view. Talin took a few steps forward, paused, turned, and collapsed into Morrow. Her face buried itself into his neck while both arms squeezed his rib cage.

"I'm sorry." A muffled voice managed before a silent sob racked her chest. Then, when it finally released her from it's seizure, quieter: "I don't wanna be alone."

 

[Morrow]

Disgust.

The stains, the rust, the musty atmosphere. On The Mauve was in port, they could have gone there. Talin had insisted they didn't, and now he was spending the night in a garbage can. Admonishment welled up in Morrow's throat, a split second from asking her what the hell she was thinking. "Wh-!?" Then, before it could lash out, Talin squeezed the air out of his lungs. Moisture grew uncomfortably on his neck as she sobbed into it. Taken aback, he blinked rapidly, momentarily frozen across the rest of his body.

It was fortunate Talin couldn't see the apprehensive cringe that twisted Morrow's face. Ambivalence was nearly paralyzing. Revulsion battled with... Sympathy? Compassion? It felt gross, whatever it was. Yet, every time she sobbed, it got worse. Revulsion wasn't winning. Eventually, his arms would slowly come up for an embrace. Talin was likely too absorbed in her whimpering to notice the obvious hesitation. For a moment, he'd hold her, one hand idly stroking her hair. Meanwhile, he was staring at a spot on the carpet, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.

His throat rumbled quietly, the death throes of the reproach that never made it past conception. "Come on," he directed, taking her by the hand and leading her toward the dingy couch that he loathed to sit on. Stygian fabric was loosened around his shoulders, the cloak discarded across the back of the chair. When he joined her, he tried not to think about what exactly he might be sitting in. Then, a slow arm wrapped around her. Still no words as he didn't actually understand what had gotten into her. Too much to drink? Or was there more to the Jon and Talsin story?

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Without hesitation, she followed. First to the couch, pullin' her knees up, wipin' away more tears. Then, surrendering to the sanctuary of his chest. It flowed without relent - heavy sobs laced with anguish, followed by periods where it hurt too much to breathe, where every muscle tensed under the weight of grief. The perfume of liquor danced between them with each of her exhales. His heartbeat beneath her ear, steady and anchoring. The noise allowed her to relax enough to push the words that needed to be said out.

"She's never gonna... forgive me." Talin heaved. "I-I W-was..."

Her jaw flexed over his chest as she worked to finish.

"I was-s gonna k-kill him. Sh-shee knew. Y-ya don't... she's n-never killed someo-one. A-and.."

Another harrowing noise.

"I can't-t feel her an-nymore, Morrow."

 

[Morrow]

Morrow was decidedly nonplussed by Talin's weeping. Pity continued to grow, though with it came commensurate impatience. Foremostly, he wished she would stop; that she would take a deep breath and get over it. Nascent concern was at odds with that wish, reining in his impulse to tell her to shut the hell up already. Now he was stuck, vacillating between the callous instinct and sympathetic yen. The former was easy, natural, but the latter felt insurmountably mystifying. He would sooner learn to fly a Star Destroyer.

An uncertain hand returned to the slightly disheveled mane of blonde, now deflated into a pitiful pile over his chest. A different spot on the carpet grabbed his attention now, anchoring him against zoning out entirely. Talin's lamentations distracted him from the recurring thought of how disgusting this place was.

"Talisn should have known better than to provoke you," Morrow affirmed. You should have killed him—he wanted to add, but didn't. Even with the mettle to speak finally coming, the emotional dithering hadn't ceased.

Talin's harrowing noise struck like a knife. Morrow's face twisted, and not in the unamused and impatient way it had been all night. Hearing her grieve was painful. It was an unfamiliar feeling, an empathetic pain on her behalf.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not knowing how to reply to her final keening. All the while, he wondered with indignance why he even cared.

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Touch and words of comfort quieted Talin, but did not cease the storm. For several minutes, her eyes stayed locked on the door's control pad, her mind systems away from the room. She felt so stupid for as many times as she had pushed Tansu away - but another part reminded her this woulda happened anyways, and it hurt less like this. There wasn't a single moment, runnin' back through time, that had put them on this collision course. It went beyond Talsin. How easily she had pulled that gun on Dax in that shipyard. When they were just girls, and Pa had made her promise to stand up for her sister, because he recognized himself.

Even the force had tried to warn her, with those dreams. The thought prompted her to sit up. The shaking had stopped, finally, though rogue tears still carved silent streams down either side of her face. There was a hole in Talin's heart where her sister oughta have been, and it hurt when the wind whistled through it. But she wasn't alone. Ocean found cerulean, and the tension in her brow relaxed.

"You might be the only person in the galaxy who doesn't hate me for it. I can't lose you, too." She whispered.

Talsin and Tan saw all o' her, and couldn't stand to look any longer. Jon, Kyr, Auteme, the entirety of her family back home - they all had some idealized version in their head, carefully curated parts o' her picked out to meet whatever need they saw fit. The wretchedness that festered in her chest, when bared, would drive them away, too. Morrow had been the only person who, when faced with every flaw and all the worst bits, still had her. That knowledge was clarity, but she still needed to hear it. The same affirmation she had made to him. A far grander scale.

"Promise you'll stay?"

 

[Morrow]

Lose me? Morrow wondered. What am I? What are we?"

They had been something for a while now, but neither had them had ever given it any life with words or acknowledgement. Until now, with her assertion that he was something she could lose. It brought up the memory of the dreams again, where her obsession seemed endless, and their bond felt imperishable. At least, from her perspective.

A strange feeling presented itself. Emotionally, it was chaotic. It was an indescribable whelm of feeling he'd probably never attach a word to. With it came the physical; an odd sensation in the stomach coupled with lightness in the chest. Morrow forced a lump down his throat, lost to any method of coping with whatever was happening to him.

There was guilt, too.

"I will."

 

[Talin Treicolt]

Slowly, she nodded, as if the words took a few seconds to process. He'd stay. She didn't have to be alone. Finally, she could breathe again. Either hand rose, pullin' cloth sleeves out of the brim of her jacket, and wiped away the remaining tears angrily. The full scope of how suddenly and brutally she had crashed out was beginnin' to dawn on her. Talin had never been one for tears, and especially not with a witness, save her sister. Morrow makin' his promise despite watchin' her writhe under the weight of it all was a miracle.

"Sorry," She muttered half-heartedly, as if that would fix it.

Face dry, though still red-nosed and puffy, Talin moved her forehead to meet his. She coulda have lingered forever there. Warmth radiated through their shared space, dragging her outta the horrors of the past few days and firmly placing her in the present. Desolation and fury finally gave way to something much more powerful. Taking him by either side of the face, passion bloomed when their lips met.