Their shuttle was tractored into the vessel’s hangar. As soon as the vessel lost manual control and was instead manipulated by the capital ship, the door to the room he laid in slid open and Ainam entered. He said nothing, did not even cry. He silently pulled up a chair, sat next to Zark’s physical body, and began to mutter in his native Noghri tongue. It did not take long for Zark to realize that the Jedi was praying.
Knowing some of the alien’s history, Zark could not help but wonder how long it had been since Ainam had spoken those words and actually meant them. He reached forward to place a comforting hand on the Noghri’s shoulder, and half-marveled when it went straight through his shoulder and his entire body. Waving it around a little, Zark realized his out of body state was complete.
He said nothing, not bothering to test and see if the Noghri could hear him. What purpose would it serve? Only to confuse those who entered to take Zark and Ainam into custody on board the capital ship. As he thought on the subject, there was a sudden shudder as the ship set down onto the docking bay floor. The landing ramp depressurized and lowered itself automatically, and soon after Zark could hear the clanking of footsteps in the ship.
The door slid open at last and in came…droids. Five humanoid shaped droids. But they were more advanced than any Zark had ever seen before, save perhaps the ultra expensive HRDs that were enjoyed only by the rich and famous of the galaxy. Their limbs moved fluently, akin to humans more so than jerky protocol droids. Each held in their hands blaster rifles of a design similar and yet wholly different from anything Zark had ever seen before. Their eyes glowed with an understanding that unnerved him.
He fully believed them capable of wielding the weaponry effectively.
And, lastly, came someone who was not a droid. Someone Zark had been waiting his whole life to meet but did not know it. Someone who bore such a striking resemblance to him…to the body he once had…that it was a wonder they were not twins. Someone altogether deserving of the Askrima name in a way that even he never could be. There was an understanding in the man’s eyes. Not cold and methodical like the droids surrounding him but…compassionate and honest.
The first time he had ever laid his eyes upon his brother and he was unconscious, unable even to say hello.
“Please, you must help him!” Ainam cried, “I’m trying as hard as I can to keep him alive, but he needs medical attention!”
For the first time, Zark realized exactly what Ainam had been doing. The prayers had served as a focus, channeling the Noghri’s thoughts toward healing Zark with the Force. In his out of body state, his connection with the Force was weak. He could not sense things as easily. Ainam and his brother were faint blips on his radar and the droids, usually a strange and simplistic flutter, were untouchable. As if they weren’t there.
Zark turned toward Michael, and could tell that a million questions were floating in the man’s head. But instead of stopping Ainam to question him, he motioned to two of the droids.
“Quickly, bring the stretcher,” he commanded, and the droids obeyed, filtering silently out of the room. Two more droids entered soon after to take their place.
“Thank you…” Ainam managed.
“You said you’re doing your best to keep him alive,” his brother said, “How?”
Ainam sat there, hesitant. His eyes betrayed his unwillingness. Zark focused his mind on Ainam’s, channeling all of his thought power into the Noghri’s. He hoped that he could get the message through, if it were simple enough.
Tell him. he screamed inside the Noghri’s head.
Whether the Noghri had gotten the message or not, he did.
“The Force,” he admitted, his eyes shimmering, “I’m using the Force to heal him.”
“Jedi or Sith?” the man’s question was immediate, almost as if he had been expecting the previous answer. And it was straight to the point.
“My master and I do not believe in such archetypes,” Ainam explained, “But if you must use them to understand where we lie, we would be Jedi.”
“Protectors of truth and justice throughout the galaxy,” his brother said aloud. Zark grinned to himself. Then he had been taught well of such matters. He was a good man.
“We do our best,” Ainam grinned in spite of himself. In spite of the situation.
The two replacement droids backed out into the corridor, and the two originals came in bearing a stretcher and an IV. They set it up quickly and efficiently, and held it parallel to the table on which Zark lay. Obediently, they waited for further instruction.
“Help me get him on the stretcher,” his brother asked more than told Ainam.
One of the droids started forward, as if alarmed. Zark furrowed his brow. A remarkably human gesture for a droid.
“Stand, VCM,” his brother commanded, “They are friends, and guests of the Protectorate.”
The Protectorate? Zark had thought this was Hapes Consortium space. Ainam and the man lifted his body onto the stretcher, and one of the droids injected the IV into his arm. All of the sudden, a feeling unpleasantly similar to a hangover overwhelmed him, and the entire world as he saw it evaporated in the blink of an eye. When his eyes reopened, he was looking up from a laying position at the back of a droid.
He realized that he had regained conscious temporarily with the injection of the IV. His hand swung out, but it was clumsy. He was losing control of his motor functions. His hand found its purchase, however, on the arm of his brother. The droids all around him tensed up, their grips on their blasters tightening. His brother halted them, however, and leaned in close. He understood. Perceptive man.
“Your…” he gasped out, struggling with each word, “Your…name?”
“My name is Michael,” he smiled, and through the curtness of his expression Zark could feel a warmth there beyond his expectations, “You should rest.”
“Michael…” Zark echoed, his voice weakening, “I…am…Arix. Arix Askrima…I am your…brother.”
“Then rest, brother,” Michael said replied, gripping his hand tightly, “Rest.”
He did not believe him. At least not completely. But he would, Zark knew. And with that thought in mind, he lost consciousness.
