The Spiral

[Teagan]

On a ship, the passage of days meant little. Time was marked by chronos and the subtle shift of light dimmers that kept up with Galactic Standard Time. The latter mostly confined to crew quarters and their own personal preferences. Of course on the rest of the ship, the glowpanels remained on their brightest setting, and had the annoying habit of piercing one's retinas and stabbing right into a person's brain if they weren't careful. Some times they seemed even brighter; an annoying thing to think of, especially when one was already in a muddled state of mind.

In one cabin a woman slept. She shut out the world in a desperate bid to forget. It was a gambit, and one that only delivered release on occasion. Unfortunately, even her dreams haunted her most nights, and she often wrenched herself from the world of slumber. Sometimes she disturbed her bedmate, and other times she did not. No real matter. Deep breaths, a far off stare, and sleep eventually grabbed a hold of her once more to pull her into her subconscious.

The sound of an alarm dredged her awake. It was silenced, despite her eyes never opening. She felt the bed shift, and curled further inward, neck craning downward as a hand pulled the soft covers up to nearly her forehead.

An eye cracked open, watching.

She wanted the bed to swallow her and never let her remember. She wanted freedom from her memories. She wanted...

What did she want?

To forget. To forget everything.

She groaned, letting out a mumbled string of words in Cizeri before once more closing her eye.

One hand reached out to gently grasp the tail tuft as she mumbled out a barely coherent sentence.

"Come back to bed."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"jIt'ss tjime to wake."

Untaaura slid away from her lover's hold, beginning the ritual of the morning stretch. Morning was such a fluid vaguery. In space, unshackled from the tether of sun and moon alike, morning was simply a number on a chrono. It annoyed her now, just as it had when she'd once been a Jaani'saar - a royal marine of the Pride. In those days, she longed to have a shore billet. Some place where she could orient her wake and sleep by the movement of those heavenly bodies. By the feel of warm sun on her skin.

Untaaura stretched, a motion that began in the fingers and ended much later in the toes. The ex-marine had not let civilian life soften herself - far from that. She still maintained a fighting figure that would be the envy of her younger peers. Taut arrays of muscle flexed and relaxed as she bent to the deck, pressing her palms flush against durasteel as her back bowed. Her tail was the only part of her that was languid, as it eased out of Teagan's grasp to fall to the floor.

When Untaaura righted herself, the first thing to greet her was her reflection in the grimy mirror across the room in the privy. To her, she looked the same as she always had, but perception was fickle. She'd gotten older, she knew. There were more lines on her face than there once were, even through the scar tissue that ran from her cheek across the right side of her face, and to her wounded and cropped ear. She'd make peace with an occasional crease here and crows feet there, just as she'd made peace with the scar. It reminded her of where she'd been, a visible sign of who she was.

Untaaura glanced back at the moping pile of Lupine still languishing in the sheets. Teagan s'Ilancy was more than a lover. She was a friend. And Untaaura had almost none of those.

"Come on."

[Teagan]

Her features screwed into a grimace, eyes refusing to open. In fact, it seemed as though she retreated further into the depths of the comforter. But, it was a momentary reaction, and the Lupine let out a sigh aas she made a show of halfway sitting up. It was a poor imitation. After all, things had been going on in this fashion for a while now. She holed up in Untaaura's small quarters, sleeping away the days one by one. And when she was awake, it was a strange mix of happy and distraught that met the Cizerack woman. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it, and she'd not divulged the reason for the sudden change. Not too long ago she had been as she always was; full of life and excitement.

But now? She was a bare slip of a woman, buried beneath layers of blankets as though they were the lid of a coffin. She was breaking into pieces, and she couldn't bear to even tell the one woman she cared most about why.

She was spiraling into despair and darkness.

Teagan let her eyes drift then, shifting from Untaaura to the wall, then to the comforter that covered her.

"I just need... I just need to rest."

It was rote now. The same as so many other mornings.

Lapsing into Cizeri, she went on.

<"I need quiet,"> drowsy, unfocused eyes met Untaaura's crisp blue gaze before her head once more fell to to rest on the pillow, <"I'm too tired.">

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"jYou've rressted almosst the entjirre cjycle."

Untaaura glanced back over her shoulder with a taut expression. She didn't dwell, moving to the dresser to slip on the day's clothes. Sleeveless compression shirt and shorts were peeled onto her wiry frame, and the Cizerack went to the second order of the day - the morning cigarette. Sparking in front of the mirror, Untaaura exhaled a quick jet of purple smoke, continuing to roll her shoulders to limber them up.

"We have a bussjy dajy ahead of uss. Thosse asstrro drrojidss need to get ssold."

[Teagan]

She made a face that was unseen, hidden by the covers she'd pulled over her head. Moments later the Lupine pushed everything away, feet kicking the once inviting comforter and throw blankets down to the foot of the bed.

Her skin was pale, a far cry from the once tanned hues that it had once been. A grumble, and she rose to sit, then swung her legs over the side of the bed with a heaved sigh. Nude, Teagan rolled her neck, eliciting a series of pops. Next came her shoulders, but it wasn't long before they slumped low, and she looked at Untaaura's back with a passive expression.

"I thought you sold those a week ago," she muttered in the midst of a yawn.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"We ssold two. Of twentjy."

Returning to the common area of the master bunk, Untaaura pinched her cigarette between her lips, pausing momentarily to slip boots on. With a tap to the side of each, the shoes automatically snugged to fit. She righted herself, exhaling a puff to the ceiling.

"That'ss barreljy enough to fuel the sshjip and uss, and not much elsse."

Untaaura didn't want to have to say it, and she'd pushed new levels in patience waiting for Teagan to come to the conclusion herself. They were barely making it out here. It had been naive to think that this would work. The business on Taltimant went south. Prospecting on Oord Mantell didn't pan out. They were lucky to escape Concord Dawn with turned out pockets. Fortune was the provenance of Saanjarra, but they'd been in the shade of the Goddess for far too long. And whatever was happening with Teagan was not helping.

[Teagan]

"Oh."

Looking to the side, Teagan let out a long breath as her brain tried to play catch-up. Tried... and failed. Only two droids? She thought they'd sold more, but if Untaaura said only two, it was most likely the truth.

"So then... "

She trailed off, not exactly sure of where to go from there. It was an open-ended start that she couldn't find the will to end. Licking her lips, the Lupine settled for counting the scuff marks in the thinning deck carpet. There were a lot.

"Maybe we should... "

No.

The thought of going back to her parents was squelched into nothingness just as soon as it had sprung to life. A hand came up to push unruly blonde bangs from her eyes as she gave a shake of her head. She couldn't go back; ever. Not after what'd happened. She could still see those horrid yellowed eyes, that hunched form that was her brother, perched over-

And it was all her fault. It was her actions that'd begun this, and her actions that had brought her back here, to 'Taaura. But... what if she'd been wrong about it all? What if she was simply overthinking everything? She had only done what she thought was right. And now she was a wreck. Adrift in a sea of muddled emotions, a far cry from the Jedi that had been once so full of life and eagerness.

"Never mind."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"No, don't neverrmjind."

She wasn't going to withdraw in another sullen bout. She wasn't going to go quiet and sulk in their quarters for half a day again. Untaaura gave Teagan's upper arm a squeeze, then lifted up the Lupine's chin until she was looking at her.

"Talk to me."

Teagan was one of the few people that Untaaura actually wanted to talk to, and it seemed that she'd been so withdrawn lately.

[Teagan]

There was a stunned moment of silence that followed as she felt her chin held up, eyes locked with Untaaura's. Still sitting on the bed, Teagan felt one hand constrict around a fold in the bedsheets as she licked her lips. She breathed through her nose. In. Out. In. Out.

And then she screwed her eyes shut, leaning forward to wrap lanky arms around the Cizerack's middle and holding her close. A tear escaped to travel down one cheek.

For a long while she sat, clutching Untaaura, her body shaking ever so slightly with silent sobs.

And when she found her voice, it came out in a bare whisper. For nearly a cycle she had lived with the guilt and shame, suffering in silence. She had tried to make amends, but the Lupine was convinced that it had not been enough. That it would never be enough.

She could still see him. Still see the terrible result her actions had caused.

"I... I almost killed Zem."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

That wasn't possible.

Teagan's adopted father was deeply loved by the Lupine. Even if she got past that, there was the fact of the matter that Zem Vymes was a powerful master of Jedi arts. Untaaura would never understand the force the way that Teagan did, much less the likes of Zem Vymes, but the thought that even in his old age that his daughter by choice could do that?

"Don't ssajy that."

Poor Teagan. Why did she feel so deserving for self-inflicted wounds?

[Teagan]

"It's the truth," she mumbled.

She felt like a little girl all over again, overcome by those terrible feelings of being perpetually lost. She could still remember those first days after her real dad had died, and the disbelief. The immense sorrow that had fallen over her.

But, in the wake of that tragedy she had found someone who cared for her in a way that Dan Thrule never could. Zem Vymes had showed to her what a real father was, and the limitless love that came with it. She had latched onto him, pouring all of her hopes and dreams into him, and he'd returned in kind. It was so wholly different, and so wholly wonderful. From the day that he'd adopted her and Markos, he had become their father not just in word, but in action.

Which was why - now - she couldn't help but feel desperation and anxiety. It ate at her psyche, chipping and gnawing away at her resolve. It was dismantling her from the inside out.

"But it was an accident, I swear."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"Then jyou have nothjing to worrrjy overr, Kurra."

As serious as Teagan claimed this all was, she'd done nothing of ill intent. Untaaura knew the family she'd grown up in. It wasn't perfect, but she'd never wanted for someone who loved her.

"Have jyou sspoken to Zem ssjince?"

[Teagan]

"I... no... "

She had left Khera'Va'ss'io quietly, slinking away in disgrace. At least Rocky had taken Markos, the two inseparable friends taking the King and going off to... well, do whatever it was they did. And for as much shame as she felt over Zem and her mother, there was just as much at having placed her younger brother in such a horrid situation. Neither sibling had made efforts to contact one another, which Teagan was secretly glad for. Perhaps she would talk to Markos again. Someday. But now? No. Not now.

"I ran away," she whispered in answer. The 'to you' didn't have to be said aloud.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"Teagan...don't let the doorr closse ljike that. Whateverr jyou feel ljike jyou have to rrun frrom - whateverr jyou feel ljike jyou need to make amendss forr - jyou need to do jit whjile jyou sstjill have tjime."

Untaaura thought about her own family history. The way she'd parted ways with her mother...there wasn't any way to go back from that. She'd watched that bridge and others fall to ashes, horrified by the price she paid just by being who she was.

[Teagan]

Finally she heaved upwards, off the bed and moving toward the small dresser that held a smattering of stuffed-in clothes. Along the way she scooped up an oversized shirt from the floor, pulling it on. It was an old shirt, faded from so many washings.

A drawer was opened, and the blonde rifled through its' contents in search of an acceptable pair of trousers. Pulling a pair out, dark grey with blue piping, she pulled them on in one fluid motion.

"It's not that easy," she grumbled.

Her hair was pulled back, then let go to fall over her shoulders once more.

She bit her lip, the looked sideways to 'Taaura.

"It's a long story, anyway, and you said we had droids to sell."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

It wasn't easy for Untaaura to wear her heart on her sleeve to begin with, and Teagan getting to the task at hand felt comfortable to her. She knew that Kurra was deflecting, but she didn't feel like making a stand here. Certainly not when they had work to do.

"Alrrjight. Asss jyou ssajy." Taut-liped, 'Taaura exhaled smoke through her nose, ashing into a coffee cup on the dresser.

She wasn't going to fight over this. Not yet.

"We'rre comjing up on Dantoojine. Not much to look at, but we sshould be able to ssell ourr warress."

The ex-marine made her way to their ship's cockpit, still bathed in the blue kaleidoscope of hyperspace. She strapped into the pilot's chair, doing the last few checks ahead of the proximity klaxon.

[Teagan]

Dantooine. It'd been a while since she'd been to the planet, and at her last recollection, it had been to visit Uncle Cirrsseeto. He'd changed so much since her ealry years aboard Layla. Going from a mechanic to a ship's captain to... what even was he now? Youngling wrangler? Salty granddad? She could only guess.

"You know," she ventured, "... I bet Uncle Cirr could use some more droids on his farm."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Untaaura looked back at her mate, ears rising askew in surprise.

"Yourr uncle? jI djidn't know jyou had famjiljy on Dantoojine."

Honestly, Teagan discussing the matter at all was more surprising than Untaaura discovering new relations. There were times when she gushed about her family and there were times when Teagan fell frustratingly silent.

[Teagan]

For a moment she stared at 'Taaura. There was slight disbelief that registered on her features before the Lupine blew a breath out the side of her mouth.

"Uncle Cirr," she repeated, having followed the older Cizerack into the cockpit.

Rather than immediately fall into the co-pilot's chair, Teagan draped her lanky frame over the back of her partner's chair, resting her chin on the top of Untaaura's head.

"You know, Cirrsseeto... " her hand snaked around to tickle an ear.

"The male-in-the-uniform. We've talked about him before, remember?"

Of course, it'd also been a fair stretch of time since she'd last made mention of him.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"Oh..."

It came back to Untaaura at Teagan's retelling. She remembered the photograph, though the sight of the man in uniform had faded from her mind long ago. More troubling was that this wasn't the first instance of something inconsequential falling through the sieve of her memory. Names, faces, usually inconsequential, but it had been a hidden trouble that was getting worse.

"Rrjight." Untaaura smiled, glancing up at her unseen partner as she took her hand.