Liv

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! A shrewd, strong, wrinkled hand – akin to a bird’s talon – gripped the loose leather of Liv’s jacket and cranked her shoulder up until she sat bolt upright. It was harsh and precise. The crude durasteel chair that she was crammed into dug into her back and she groaned. Red marks lingered on the pale flesh of the teenager’s forehead and a small strand of drool hung from her lips, but she didn’t notice. All she noticed were the two tiny green daggers boring into the side of her head and the feeling of foreboding that lingered all around her. Her appointed legal representative stared at her; stabbing, piercing and relentless. It seemed his patience was running thin. She couldn’t blame him really. Her patience had run out a long time ago. Her thoughts were scurrying around like tiny Jawas without a hydrospanner. And the prevailing notion that tugged incessantly at her exhausted mind, was a strong desire for Carsunum. The name alone made her jolt in her seat. But need was just the beginning of Liv’s nervous withdrawal. Her body twitched with every sound that thundered through the cavernous room and she struggled to focus on the proceedings. Reality dimmed a little and her head swiveled about at irregular intervals. Fail. Liv pushed her eyes closed and furrowed her brow in concentration. Then she sat and tried to focus on the back of her right hand. She scraped the thin membrane of her fingernails across the wood of the desk in front of her and endeavored to center her mind on the sensation. Drip. A small pool of liquid gathered on the desk right beside her hand. Drip. The cold thatch of limp brown hair that hung in front of her face started to gather and irritate her eyes. Drip. Cold sweat mingled with the still drying bacta in her limp mohawk. And the dingy brown mop, instead of standing as it should, was now plastered to her forehead. It stole what little focus she garnered and robbed her efforts, rendering them futile; misplaced. Her predicament – like her hair – was colorless. And it would likely stay that way until she could afford to recolor it. Apparently, bacta removed hair dye. Huh… An over-large black Bothan huffed behind a bloated podium and shifted his glasses. He cleared the phlegm gathered in his throat and looked hard at the young woman that idled next to her state-appointed representative. “Olivia Strong, did you or did you not murder Ted Cudgel?” It was a simple question. But Liv’s mind was a blur. In fact, the past twenty-four hours felt like a strange blur. The last thing she remembered, after being pulled out of the bacta, was being dragged into a courtroom. She vaguely recalled Aira, Aelyn, Samuels, and Hopkins standing around her bacta tank, saying things that she couldn’t make out. She even saw her mother amidst the crowd. But she couldn’t reason with what they were doing. Her mind felt distant from it all. A spectator of her own life, Liv couldn’t fathom what the delirious vision meant. What she knew was: the crazy voice in her head was gone, each piece of jewelry tingled when she put them back on, she was feeling much better than she had been, and she was now subjected to a pointless arraignment about the murder she’d committed. The Bothan judge’s patience wore thin. The teenager’s silence was grating on him, but he grunted audibly and reserved his irritation. He was to remain impartial. That was his duty. “I ask again. Did you or did you not murder Ted Cudgel?” Her Corellian legal representative was still looking at her with malodorous intent. But Liv was unaffected by his threats, however unspoken they were. The murder in question swam to the forefront of her brain fog and her stomach contorted at the thought. The figure of ‘the Shuffler,’ looming over her, morphed and altered by the drugs coursing through her mind, was something out of a nightmare. The feeling of his stench and aura consumed her and threatened what little safety the teenager clung to. She acted with little discretion and ended the wastrel’s life. Did she know what his intent was? No. Did she want to know? No. Did she care? A little. But that didn’t do anything. The guy was kriffing dead and there was nothing she could do. “Yes,” Liv said, bowing her head a little, refusing to look at the judge and not bothering to face her representative as he slammed his hand on the desk in frustration. He looked to her, attempting to halt her confession, but Liv didn’t want to deny it. She didn’t want things to get tied up and become more complicated than they needed to be. She did it. She knew she did it. And she wasn’t going to barrel around the moof milking truth just so she could try and escape the consequences. “I killed him. He was trying to jump me for some reason and I lashed out at him.” The teenager bowed her head further to look at the wood of the desk once more, the surface of which was now a colorful arrangement of her musings. Scratch marks, drool marks, bacta drippings and indentations littered the broad desk. It was a visual depiction of her wasted time and scrambled brain. The Bothan cocked his head to the side a little. The stern edge of his expression muted as he looked at the teenager. “Alright. Were you or were you not in possession of an illegal substance?” Impressively, Liv’s expression soured even more than it had. Her expression was a far cry from sheer derision, but it mocked the sentiment with biting undertones. “Yes. I had Carsunum. I stole it from Tyros Kavesh, a pirate that holes up on Nar Shaddaa.” Liv’s legal representative was close to slamming his head on the desk in frustration. He kept trying to interrupt and prevent the teenager from speaking, but she persisted through his continued interception. The judge’s bushy grey eyebrows raised at her candid admission and some measure of curiosity snuck into his equally bushy mustache. “I-uh. Alright. Knowing your history of delinquency, and following this line of malfeasance, I have no choice but to senten-“ “Wait, your honor.” Phillip Pierson interjected. Her Corellian representative’s head was considerably redder than it had been, but he was remarkably skilled at controlling his temper. “Yes, my charge has done terrible things. But, I would like to propose an alternative sentence, if I may.” The judge halted his gavel and waited, eyes open, for the defense attorney to offer his counter sentence. “Thank you,” Phillip said, bowing slightly to the judge and moving in front of the desk with his arms folded behind his back. Liv was a little baffled by his posturing, considering they were the only ones in the room, but she wasn’t going to stop him. “Olivia Strong is the quintessential representative of a misguided youth. Her parents are gone and she has no structure in her life. To put her in another place that is chaotic and unstructured, would be to invite further chaos in her life. Instead, like her father, why not give her to the Galactic Alliance military? They are looking for new recruits and Liv could use structure.” Phillip stammered a little, but maintained his pace and took a deep breath before continuing. “The proposed sentence would carry a clause with it. That, if Liv doesn’t reform and come to some measure of discipline after five months, she will be sentenced to jail time. What do you say?” The teenager gawked at the suggestion. The military? What would I do there? I? What? Who? Huh? The judge raised one eyebrow above the other and looked at the state-appointed representative. The Bothan’s matted fur was heavy with mottled gray tones and bristled slightly at the sudden affront to his decision. But, he admitted, the idea had merit. The weight of each decision was obvious in the Bothan’s eyes and the gap that built in the silence stretched to unbearable levels. The frills of the judge’s mustache twitched as he wrestled with his decision until he finally chuffed through his snout, adjusted his glasses and smiled with contentment. “You make a good point counselor. Though, I remind the representative that his conduct is ill-befitting his station. And that, next time, he should address the situation with proper decorum before proposing a counter sentence. Olivia Strong, you are hereby sentenced to service in the Galactic Alliance military for five months. At that time you will be given an assessment by your commanding officer and they will determine if you are fit to continue as a Cadet, or if you will be sent to jail. The court is adjourned.” Just like that, Liv’s life shifted again. Everything was set into motion and Liv was caught amidst it all; a small weed caught in a torrential rapid, struggling to grip on to something.

Liv, you need to forgive yourself. There are people who care about you. I have seen your past. I know it's messy. But everyone's is… Liv… Whatever of you is left in that shell, you must know that I forgive you. You must know that I don’t hold you accountable for my death. You will always be my little Rominaria Flower. Know that, I missed traveling with you and that I will always love you. Please, let it go. Just let it all go… Liv, it's never too late. There's no point of no return. I'm studying to become a Jedi, and things are changing so fast. Things are becoming commonplace that I thought were impossible, and though part of me is clinging to my old reality, I'm finding out that when life-shaking events happen, we have to adapt, and how we do that reflects our character far more than our history… You have a chance now, probably the best chance you'll ever get, to make a positive change. We may not be able to forget the past, but neither does it have to control us forever. Please, try to look for peace. We're all here to help you… Warmth poured through the pores of glass that separated Liv from the rest of the CoreSec outpost. It pulled through the thick bacta fluid that surrounded her and suffused her troubled body with a dizzying brilliance. The teenager’s eyes were clamped shut, but she felt all the figures that stood beyond the glass. Even… Mom? Liv’s flailing body started to intensify. She was gaining strength and the regret that festered inside was trying desperately to hang on. It was afraid of letting go. It didn’t want the girl’s self-loathing to cease and would do whatever it could to maintain the affliction. But… The teenager’s eyes opened; an emerald fire that shined in the depths of healing fluid that surrounded her. Liv’s thrashing stopped and glowing green streaks fell from her face. Tears of luminescent fluid fell upon her pale cheeks and her body rocked with gentle sobs. Mom… You too? A little girl with long curly brown hair ran through tall amber. The sun was setting on the horizon, and it licked the tops of the foliage as it left. A warm breeze brushed across and pushed the grass around like a massive brush, filling the moment with a natural artistic wonder. The little girl flew across it all, defying fear. She was tumbling with glee and celebrating her youth with fits of giggles. A woman stood near, tall and beautiful. Her emerald eyes creased in joyful observation. Her smile was wide and before the little girl could reach the far side of the field, the woman joined the girl. They fell into each other and rolled around in the grass, tickling each other and exploding with happy sounds. Here we are again you little miscreant! Liv shouted from center stage. Her gilded, wicked, dual-necked instrument shined bright in the stage lights that grew brighter as the music continued. Her outfit was just as garish as before and her words were just as vulgar. The music was loud and with passionate fire, she pushed the decibel limit. Words came from the audience that pumped the music even louder and with every moment the concert came closer and closer to blowing the house down. But, Liv wasn’t alone this time. Aira’s mane of dark hair played the drums on stage left, Aelyn’s compassion was playing keyboard on stage right, shadows of two familiar women stood as backup singers, a white-haired shadow stepped in as the second guitarist, and the ghost of Liv’s mother stood beside her daughter on center stage. Her beautiful alto voice, that Liv could recount almost perfectly, carried the cavalcade of colorful characters to the apex of music artistry. Shrieks of shrill fear and regret were drowned out in the crowd. The pain and misery that plagued her body was fleeing with rapid efficiency and Liv’s metaphysical body brightened exponentially. She smiled with euphoric glee and the vision faded out with the drawn-out explosion of the neon stage lights. Liv’s body smiled. The thrashing stopped, her eyes closed and her mind quieted. Her wounds were still in need, but they could finally see the aid that they needed. The outline of Liv’s mother turned to Aira and Aelyn. She smiled and then slowly dissipated, leaving Aira, Aelyn, Samuels and Hopkins alone in the room.

Alone… So alone… Livvy, Livvy, Livvy… Feeling desperate again are we? Go away. That strength you keep holding onto won’t last forever. The last brick in your foundation will crack and I will take complete control. You keep holding on to that hope that someone else cares about you. You’re a rotten child and you always will be. You swear, you do drugs, you’re sloppy, and you don’t care about anybody except yourself. Liv’s voice was hard and emerged from the thick cloud of her mind without her control. A picture of her, rage-filled and obstinate, positioned itself on one side, projecting its voice at the empty air. Fine! I don’t need to travel anymore! And I don’t kriffing need you! The words dripped of malice. They stuck pins and needles in her arms that burned and threatened to tear her apart from the inside out. But she had to hold on, she had to keep… What are THEY doing here?! Liv’s eyes opened in the translucent liquid. It was hard to make out every form beyond her steel cell and any sounds that made it through were dull imitations of words, but the outlines of Aira and Aelyn were visible. The expression on Liv’s sullen face brightened a little and her pallor lessened. See, someone does care about me. Your optimism disgusts me. If they knew you, as in actually knew you, do you think they would really care? I don’t know, but any of that is worth fighting you. Liv’s body contorted painfully. A sharp stabbing pain wreaked havoc at her side and stopped the healing that took place. The sensation of sand on the exposed wound started to rankle her brain. Shrieks exploded in her mind and Liv’s eyes closed in exertion. Ghost sensations emerged, simulating explosive dilution of the blood with water from the lungs. This dilution simulated the rapid failure of the blood's ability to carry oxygen, making Liv’s body think that it was deprived oxygen in critical areas and generating similar stimuli to asphyxiation. Liv’s consciousness reached out in vain to try and prevent the sensations from causing any more harm, but she was too weak.

At the close of Aira’s last vision, a spark of blue fire bloomed from her fingers and all the jewelry stopped glowing. It was as if the lack of Aira’s touch had turned off the cosmic light switch and the spectral heat vanished without a trace… A moment of silence followed as Samuels looked on. He made to escort her from the evidence room and walked into the antechamber where Wilcox was sleeping again. Before Aira left the evidence room though, a tall blue feminine outline manifested at Aira’s side with her hand on Aira’s shoulder. The emerald eyes from before were now glowing with a blue wispy energy. Her sad expression, her bob cut, and her outfit were all the same as they’d been in the vision. But, when she considered Aira’s deep black eyes, her mouth spread into a gentle smile. Thank you for sharing those moments. They are special to us. My daughter regrets my death. She thinks it’s her fault. Her last words to me were crueler than she intended and she never got a chance to say goodbye or take back the words she said in anger. Her regret and longing took shelter where our love used to be and twisted into the darkness that afflicts her now. Only she can break the hold it has. But she’s weak. With your help, your support and your words, you can convey the strength she needs to let go. I will help, as much as I am able. I don’t have the strength to move beyond objects or to touch corporeal things, but if you could take one of the rings with you, I may follow. With only an echo to her name, the wisp of Cara Strong faded away. Her presence was still in the room but to a much lesser extent… Samuels, who stood gawking in the doorway, shook himself out of his bewildered state and tried to straighten himself. “If you’ll follow me Ms. Cadan, the bacta tanks are in the back of the building. When we get there, I’ll be able to find you a bacta patch for your fingers.” ________________________ Liv’s body floated listlessly in the bacta. Her eyes were closed and her form was still, but her mind was torrential. Storms of chaos spread across her frail thoughts and swept them away. Guilt was all she felt. Cold, slimy, unrelenting guilt worked its way through her gut and into her head. The pain of her body was penance; her punishment for being a terrible daughter; her punishment for being a terrible person. The voice from before was implicit. Her presence sang in the searing pain of Liv’s body. Numbing agents had been applied to help soothe the girl’s pain, but the darkness inside refused to let Liv ignore the pain. It refused to allow her respite and kept pushing her into the torrential waters. But, despite her agony, despite her predicament, Liv had to hold on. No matter what. Every bit of strength was reserved to prevent her mind from getting completely overwhelmed.

Samuels was a little confused by Aira’s display. The middle-aged CoreSec officer hadn’t witnessed much in the way of Jedi tricks, but he knew enough about them to know that when they said they were fine, they were fine. Plus, because of her, he felt like he’d slept three days away. His energy levels had skyrocketed and he only had them to thank. For that, Samuels backed away and let the Captain take as much time as she needed. He kept an eye on her just in case anything happened, but he wouldn’t intercede unless he felt it necessary. ____________________________________ Meanwhile, Cadet Hopkins stood nervously shaking next to Aelyn as she observed the surveillance video. The video itself was a bit out of his scope. He’d seen it before and couldn’t piece it together. No. The focal point of his attention was on the young lady’s shining red hair. Her fair skin and freckles lit up with amazing clarity in the low light of the surveillance room and his heart fluttered with a sensation he’d never felt before. She was very pretty. And Hopkins, like most young men that leaned that direction, was caught in a sea of indecision and awkwardness. His tongue was a little inconsistent and he stuttered when he was trying to talk with her. The young cadet knew that it was unprofessional, but he couldn’t help it. Inwardly whacking himself on the head, trying to regain control of his flailing hormones, Cadet Hopkins listened to the young woman’s request. He tightened his posture in a feigned gesture of confidence and took a big deep breath. He stood at attention and held fast as he patiently absorbed the information she requested. But, in the end, he shook his head. Which was difficult, because his skull felt like a three-hundred-pound weight, sagging as it was, refusing to make any negative gesture to a lady. Especially a lady that was as cute as she was. “U-u-unfortunately, Aira is-s in the evidence room and I don’t have clearance there. We c-c-could try to find another officer that does? Or I c-c-can take you straight to Liv’s room? Sh-she’s in the b-back of the b-building where our b-bacta tanks are.” Hopkins stammered. His eyes looked down at the floor with discomfort, but he knew he wanted to help. He just didn’t know how. His eyes glittered a moment and he pushed himself to look at Aelyn again. “If-f what you s-say is true, then your friend will probably go t-to Liv’s room next. If we go, we can meet up with her when she catches up? I will escort you there when you need. But I can’t get you into the evidence room. Sorry…” His failure to adhere to her demands looked as if it physically hurt the officer. But he did what he could to hold to a consistent posture. It was still his first year on the job and he didn’t want to mess anything up.

Officer Samuels felt like someone shot him with an arc of electricity; either that or thirty hours of make-up sleep that he sorely needed. He stood ramrod straight, his eyes perked up and his thoughts were pouring in like a crazy out of control waterfall. Immediately, he became aware of the heavy beard that grew on his chin and the array of officers around him that were dragging their feet. He had been one of the zombies creeping through the facility, but now that he could see everything around him, he was uncomfortably aware of how far everything had gone. Barb’s eyes were so sullen that she could give the former Emperor Palpatine a run for his money, which was saying something. “Oh-righ-wai-what?” Officer Samuels tried to say in the slurry of thoughts that assaulted his mind. With a second of time to re-organize his speech and an extra sip of caf for good measure, he tried again. “Of course, Ms. Cadan. Apologies for the disorganization. This facility is rarely used, and CoreSec has suffered major losses recently, so we are all still trying to recoup. Everyone here has worked upwards of eighteen hours and counting. Anyway, Aelyn is it? The surveillance footage is right in that room over there.” Samuels pointed to the second door on the right, down the main hall. “Officer Hopkins, the resident cadet, and the only person that was able to grab some shut-eye will be able to help you with it. Ms. Cadan, follow me to the evidence room and I’ll show you the objects in question.” Before receiving any sort of argument or resistance, the rejuvenated Officer made his way down the main hall and past a few side hallways. When he came to a large metal door on the left, he pulled out a ring of key cards and flipped to a card with a glowing red bar on it. He waved it in front of the door and it opened with a small ding sound. Officer Samuels proceeded through the door and held the door for Ms. Cadan until they were both inside the small room. He then closed the door with a click and approached the window that stood right in the middle of the room. The old Officer that rested on the other side of the window was snoring quite loudly. Samuels was almost jealous, but he didn’t really have time for pleasantries. “HEY WILCOX!!” Officer Samuels yelled. He was kind enough not to do it right next to the man’s ear, but the intensity suggested his urgency. The exhausted officer jolted upward and bonked his head on his desk lamp. He harrumphed and rubbed his right index finger through his thick graying mustache. The milky white film over his eyes subsided temporarily and he looked with some cognition at Officer Samuels. “W—wwhat? What is it, Samuels?” Officer Samuels bent his head in acknowledgment and indicated the door on the other side of the small room. “We need to get into evidence. You should have some documents indicating that this woman is authorized to enter as long as she is escorted by an Officer.” Wilcox looked as if he started sleeping in the middle of their conversation. But, with the barest hesitation, Wilcox shuffled through the papers on his desk. Mumbles and grumbles were the only audible noises from Wilcox for a few minutes. He seemed intent to take as long as possible. Officer Samuels started to tent his fingers a little and crack his knuckles. The energy in his body started to pull his attention around the room and he began to get a little impatient before the door on the other side of the room clicked open. Samuels showed his badge to Wilcox and Wilcox nodded before he plopped his head on the desk and fell to sleep again. Samuels moved toward the door and once again held it open for Ms. Cadan. Together they entered a big room with several racks filled with contraband. A veritable smorgasbord of guns and drugs littered the racks that sat before them. There were a couple racks that were completely empty, but those weren’t important. Samuels avoided the racks altogether and walked to the south side of the room. A large table sat against the wall. A few hazardous canisters sat in a line along the border of the wall and a small pile of jewelry glowed in the center of the table. Some jewelry glowed brighter than the others, but all of them were hot to the touch. Samuels took a position by the table and indicated with his head. The brightest glowing pieces were two silver earrings, a cortosis earring, one white opalescent earring, an obsidian earring, and a jade tongue ring.

Liv’s fever dream broke and she found herself in a plain of snow. Her curiosity forced her to double take. Last, she checked, she was in a bacta tank. She was fighting a manifestation of something and she was on death’s door – so to speak. The scenery was so unreal that the teen thought she was having another dream. It wasn’t a hugely implausible conclusion, but the snow felt real. The cold biting at her toes and at her legs was starting to get to her. She wrapped her leather jacket tighter around herself and trudged off in the snow, grumbling to herself. She wondered where Aira and Aelyn had gone. If they really wanted to help, she would confide in them and try to reach common ground. But whose right was it to say what their intentions were? Liv had only known strangers to be cruel. She had no idea what their intentions really were. But this cold was intense. Whatever she needed to do, she needed to do it quickly. Off in the distance, Liv thought she could make out a small installation. It was squat and unassuming, but if it was shelter, she would do anything to get inside and try to work out whatever this was. ((1))

When Aira Cadan and Aelyn arrived at Kimble General, a few – still shaken – orderlies that sat outside the ruin of Liv’s hospital room instructed them to the local CoreSec outpost. If inspected, the hospital room would yield an intriguing but perplexing mess. The room was destroyed: holographic displays were smashed on the floor, glass and pools of dried blood littered the tile, instruments were splayed, the bed was smashed against the south wall, and all the cabinets were caved in. But the destruction fell short of the door. There was a clear line that separated the room from the rest of the hospital. Even the walls showed signs of impact and wear, but the destruction didn’t leave the room. The orderlies were poor witnesses. Their stories were brief and clipped because none of them wished to discuss what went on. And truthfully, none of them saw what happened. The CoreSec building, when Aelyn and Aira arrived, would just be setting in for early afternoon operations. It was a squat one-story building that took up four city blocks and sat a few blocks away from the hospital. The exterior of the building was colored in a simple slate gray and had a few CoreSec emblems emblazoned on the walls. The emblems looked sun dried and the paint on the walls was flaking, badly. The shrubbery on the outside of the building was overgrown and the patrol officers stumbled about in the breaking light. Their eyes were dull, clutching caf in their hands and their wit was not apparent in any capacity. None of them registered the Jedi as they approached. The two ladies were left to find their seats in the lobby and it took ten minutes before a front desk official arrived. Her face was sunken and surly; her expression moreso. When the I.D scan of the women registered on her computer, Barb, the secretary, paged Officer Samuels to come to the lobby. Officer Samuels was low on the list of CoreSec regulars. He was the guy that you drug out of bed when you needed something. The other higher-ups were too important to deal with the druk assignments. He’d been up for the past eighteen hours and he was starting droop in his seat. His eyes were half-lidded and he almost slipped nose-first into his eighth cup of caf when Captain Cadan entered the front lobby. The page alerted him before the boiling hot liquid hit his skin and he slapped himself to try and appear more ‘awake.’ It was a futile exercise, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about presentation even when his thick beard and shaggy hair argued with his decorum. Officer Samuels ambled into the front lobby and took stock of the two Jedi. He tried to slog together a cohesive response. He looked around the room for a second and felt gravity dragging him down. His glazed green eyes blinked a few times and his left hand was struggling to pick words from the blurry air. The spectacle looked a little silly and Officer Samuels was dimly aware of it. The Officer only managed to find his words after imbibing the caf that he still held in his right hand – he wasn’t crazy; most days – and holding his ground, despite all hints at the contrary. “H-Hello again ladies.” Officer Samuels slurred. “Your friend is in the med bay. As I said. At least, I think I did. We moved your friend from Kimble when she had a wacko reaction to whatever. None of us are sure of what happened. All we know is that the crazy managed to stifle itself, which had all of us scratching our heads. Normally psychotic breaks lead to lethal consequences for the patient and others. But this… This was something completely different. We just labeled it psychotic in our records because we have no galactic standard for this behavior.” Samuels slumped into a nearby chair, gravity finally having its way with him. He spilled a little caf on the floor, which earned him a stern look from Barb, but he didn’t notice. When his seat was firmly planted on the cheap flaky cushion, he continued. “We didn’t have a lot of options to call for emergency contacts. Cara Strong, her mother, died a year ago. And her father, Marcus Strong, went AWOL from the Galactic Alliance military in the same time frame.” Samuels cleared his throat a moment and took another swig of his caf. It was getting cold; ugh. “Our only reason for calling you Captain Aira, aside from your presence yesterday, is the fact that the young woman called for you personally. Unconscious on a metal slab, the teenager said, ‘where is Aira, I want to see Aira.’ If you can explain why that is, that would be great, but it’s not important. As an additional perplexity to this weird case, her facial jewelry, the jewelry confiscated from her at the hospital, is glowing red hot. The orderlies tried to remove them and they got seriously burned. We had to remove them with hazmat gear and large metal tongs. The objects in question are locked up in evidence, but just ask and I’ll give you access. You may also have access to the hospital surveillance logs, but you may not want to look at it. It… doesn’t look right. Like a demented yo-yo, she seemed to prevent herself from leaving her room while destroying it all the same.” The Officer reached his left hand up to scratch at his greasy hair. Samuels’ eyes were starting to get heavier and he was once again drawing close to plopping face-first in his caf. He did what he could to prop himself on the bent metal arm of the waiting room chair that he sat in, but it was the pain that kept him from completing his uncomfortable facial.

Long frigid claws of darkness gripped Liv's fragile consciousness as the hospital fell asleep for the night. Her wan expression imprinted itself on the cold fibers of her drool-moistened bed rest. Orderlies made passing appearances, adding to her IV and checking her vitals, but aside from minimal monitoring, Liv was left alone to sleep. Like a dirge, haunting her dreams, an oppressive force of dread drifted into the room and hung over her, adding to the corona of energy that gravitated to her prone form. Her consciousness drifted deeper. The velvet black of her eyelids embraced her cold reality and left everything drifting in a void of clarity. Everything drifted, listless and unformed. A voice, quiet at first, rang out in Liv’s mind. "Poor Livvy. All alone. Again. Except... you have me." The voice said in sing-song cadence. A ragged child-like form emerged, lit only by a dim beam that shone from the void. The invader’s faded blue floral-patterned dress was torn and tattered. Its face was dirty and bruised, but its expression was predatory: its big green eyes were wild and intensely focused on Liv's projected form. Its mouth was crooked in a lethal half-smile and its features were sharp and gaunt. The added damage took nothing away from the sense of foreboding deja vu that grew deep in Liv's heart. "You always have me. Those girls; they don't deserve you. No one deserves you. You are a force all on your own. You don't need them." Its voice was melodic, but harsh; musical, but cold. "They wanted to help me," Liv responded. Her voice was weakened and frail to reflect her current maladies. "Sure, they did, that's why they left you here; alone." Liv's thoughts were troubled. She stirred under the covers of her hospital bed and groaned when the pain lit anew; a fire in her mind. "All they did was take your spice away. They gave you words and denied you joy. They don't *really* care about you. They only care about themselves." "No. they said I could get better, that they would help." "Yes, they did, but where are they now? What actions have they to show for their empty words?" "They took me to the hospital. They stood by me when I needed someone." "But where are they now?" the invader repeated. "They asked if you wanted to be helped and then ran away. They don’t see the pain you’re in. They don’t want to help. They told you what they wanted you to hear. Only I know what’s best for you. Only I can give you the joy you deserve. Only I can take away the pain that, even now, squirms its way through your brain." "How?" "Watch and learn." Liv's body drifted away from her. The world around her stirred with sound, but the pain in her body slowly muted. She smiled at the cathartic release. To silence the stinging crescendo of pain, even for a moment, was refreshing. But amidst the euphoria, a small sensation tugged at the back of her mind, attempting to show her the shadow that lurked beneath. Anxiously, Liv tried to brush her left-hand through her matted down mohawk, but the synapses failed to run the length of her nerves, ending instead, at her elbow. A cackling bout of laughter sang from deep within her in response to her attempt and sickening popping noises filled her ears as her crippled body rose from its resting place, like a demented marionette tangled amidst its strings. Liv's puffy eyes lit up with red smoke, and a twisted smile morphed her lips. Her body stood upright on the cold tile floor, but it slumped at an impossible angle. What are you doing!?! Liv thought, emphatically. Having fun... The invader breathed. Each word pressed into Liv’s mind like an ice cube on her spine. Spikes of fevered panic shot to her brain and she did whatever she could to regain control. The invader scoffed at her efforts and left Liv to her own devices. What could she do? Liv’s body’s feet moved forward at an involuntary trudge. Its arms pulled the IV out and proceeded, unhindered, toward the nearest orderly. NO! A blast of furious energy smashed outward, destroying the electronics in Liv's room and violently slamming her bed against the transparisteel window opposing the open doorway. What? The invader started to lose control of the teenager’s flesh. The strings were cut one at a time and Liv’s body sunk deeper to the floor. The invader fled back to Liv's mind to try and wrestle control from her. But what it saw, was perplexing. Neon fluorescent stage lighting brought a dynamic theme to a previously dreary horizon. The invader saw Liv's metaphysical manifestation standing at the center of a grand stage, holding a wicked looking dual-necked guitar that breathed fire with every note. "What!? Why?" The invader stood, interrogating the scene before her. Liv, playing a riff before scowling in defiance, spit toward the edge of the stage. Her outfit was garish and shiny, glittering gold in the powerful stage lights. Her guitar roared flames into the illusory sky and smoke filled the darkness as invisible fans rooted her on. "You forgot one thing Princess Stoopa. This is my mind!" Liv sang, slamming into a crazy lick and swinging her mohawk up and down. The raging inferno of her guitar seared technicolor burns into the black, inciting more cheers from her phantom fans. "You were weak, tired... How did you muster this much energy?" "Because I'm an obstinate schutta and I don't give a flying kriff what you think," Liv yelled, warring against the pain that shot back at her with every bit of control that she seized. In Liv's room, the teenager was sliding around like a drunk gungan on a terrible Friday night. From the outside: she smashed into the counters, slammed into the broken machinery, hit the transparisteel window, and flailed with wild seizures all around the confines of her modest room. Any time her body tried to leave, it hit an invisible wall and ran straight back in. On the inside: Liv was wracked with pain and coordinating a battle of the bands with the force that was trying push her out. It was hectic and stressful, but after a time, Liv's strength waned and her body fell to the floor, pierced by fragments of broken glass and battered by hospital instruments. Copper smells filled the room as what was left of the teenager’s vitality spilled across the debris. Her will warred in silence while the shrapnel of her body tried to rest. The orderlies that caught Liv out of bed a few minutes after her episode started, but were too terrified to enter, called CoreSec and emergency services to remove her as soon as possible. CoreSec’s response was swift if a little laggy due to the time of day. ___________________________ Officer Samuels scratched his head. It was the second time, in less than twenty-four hours, that he had been called to deal with this particular teenager. But this time, he really had no clue what to make of the situation. They moved Liv to a heavy duty durasteel bacta tank located inside the nearby CoreSec outpost. And a diligent staff was monitoring and fixing her wounds to the best of their ability. Considering the damage she did to the hospital room, the heavy steel shielding of the tank was more for their protection than hers. Officer Phillip Samuels found no wounded or deceased at the scene, aside from the young girl. But the property damage and severity of her wounds prompted immediate action. It was the next step that confused him. Samuels rummaged around in his desk for a few moments and found the number he was looking for. It belonged to the ladies that found the teenager yesterday afternoon, and when he was ready, he sent them a message outlying the situation: "Hello, Captain Aira Cadan. The young teenager you brought to Kimble General Hospital hospital the other day had a psychotic breakdown last night. Or at least, that's how this incident is being documented. The cameras show an interesting story. But the most interesting of all is that it seemed like she was actively stopping herself from leaving her room. She's a bit worse for wear I'm afraid, but we're doing what we can for her in an outpost a few blocks from the hospital. We have her effects in our custody, but we had to use hazmat gear to remove them. Each piece of metal is burning hot to the touch. You may want to check that out. The last piece of information we have for you is that, before we moved her, she mentioned you by name."

Do you think that's something you can do?You can't keep running from the pain It will always catch up with you until you deal with it She felt feelings of warmth and comfort emanate from their votes of compassion, but those concepts were distant to her. She didn’t know what either of them looked like. They didn’t know who she was. What was their motivation? Who even were these people? Why was she here? What was she going to do now? Where would she go? How did she plan on doing anything? Questions defied answers and continued to swim violently through her pounding head. She cursed inwardly at her scattered brain, but there was very little she could do. Her body was distant and unattainable. All she could smell was rubbing alcohol. And she was in immense pain. A strong part of her still wanted Carsunum. The familiar sensations of pleasure and burning that ran hand in hand through her nose were now unpleasant and scratchy. Her throat was a bed of sore acid and it only worsened with time. She tried to open her eyes again but found only resistance. I just want to curl up and die right now… Is that what you want mom? Is that why you left me here? To feel the pain you left behind? To feel the pain that I inflicted on you? Well, it sucks. It kriffing sucks and I want it to stop. But that’s just it. It won’t stop until I stop. That’s what ‘whoever’ just said. I can’t stop the pain unless I stop the pain. It seems like a weird idea, but I must learn to let go of you. I have to let you out. It’s the only way I can get through this. Liv’s eyes, or the puffy masses that stood in their place, welled with tears again. Hot liquid stung her wounds and Liv’s sobbing rocked her body against the hospital bed. “I can tr-y.” Liv started to say. Her voice cracked under duress. She was about to renew her answer to see if she could muster a more convincing response when her body seized up and violent tremors started to shake her. The heart monitors started to beep violently, and before long, Liv was pushed back into unconsciousness. A voice slithered from Liv’s quiet immobile form. It was cold, dark, and strangely, musical. It was the voice of a little girl. You can’t have her. She is mine. Her pain is mine. She is a menagerie of despair and it fits my needs.

Liv grasped at the offered capsule and desperately inhaled the small particles held inside. Her nostrils were still recovering and screamed at her with renewed sensation, but she silenced the painful vote of conscience as best she could. It was what she needed. It was what she wanted. But it wasn’t enough. Her mind started to soften. Perception started to grow fuzzy, but the pain was still pushing through. Desperation shook the capsule for more, but it was clear that this negligible high was all she would get. Tragically, she felt her eyes sting as the hollow capsule brushed air across her cheek. It wasn’t fair. Why did this happen? When did this happen? You only have yourself to blame. She tested her arms again, but neither of them wanted to move. She tried to sit up again, but her back cried out. It was maddening, and if Liv’s throat wasn’t already burning, she might have tried to push her way out of her neo-comatose state. She wanted more. She wanted the pain to go away. She wanted her ghosts to stop haunting her. She wanted her mom. Why did she have to leave? Why did she have to die before I could tell her how I really felt? Tears streamed from Liv’s eyes, making it even harder to open them. Her tremors slightly intensified, but she managed to stay on the bed due to the bed restraints. She tried to speak through the tears, but it was hard to form words at first, so she waited until her tears subsided a little before trying again. “Y-you don’t understand. I need it. I need to let go. I don’t want the pain to come back. It’s… It’s too much.” Liv coughed. Burning fire seared the inner lining of her throat and she winced at the sensation, falling back to cold headrest. When the intensity of her pain extinguished, her expression softened beneath the red puffiness of her tear-strewn face. Why keep everything from these people? They seem nice enough. You sure about that? No. But I’m not sure of anything anymore. “I was looking for someone and I ran out of scratch. I needed to get more, so I hooked up with a smuggler's crew. It was pretty swell at first. I had no idea what we were haulin'. But that didn't bother me. When a few of the others were trying the ‘stuff,’ they offered a little to me. I wasn't sure at first, but it started to bug me. I wanted to try some, so I gave it a hit. And that was where all of it went to a pile of steamy dwang.” Liv’s speech was pockmarked with staccato coughs and stuttering. “After that I tried to steal a case of the stuff and was beaten til I was bleeding and out of breath. Then they kicked me from the crew. I scrimmed a handful of capsules, but they had most of it. I managed to keep my jewels though, which… was nice. As far as why I ended up here, my mom and I used to come here. She reminded me that there were places I could go if I was in trouble. But, as high as I was, I couldn’t remember where they were, so I ran to the dwang district capital of Borleias to hide from the authorities. Carsunum ain't exactly legal y’know…”

The little girl with long curly brown hair, consumed by grief, looked to the distance with a maniacal gleam beneath her puffy red eyes. Part of her smile perked into an unsettling grin as tears continued to run down her face… Despite attempts to drown out her pain, Liv’s subconscious clung to it. Addictive tendrils embraced the need for relief. Her delirious state created cracks in her body’s natural resistance and the dark side of the force slipped through the cracks, fusing the pain she felt to every muscle in her body. Regardless of drug use, she would feel pain. But she only saw the ebbing need for spice as it rose to the surface and claimed her vulnerable consciousness. Liv’s eyes were still hesitant to open. One of her eyes physically couldn’t open; at least not until the bandages were removed. And because pain limited her momentum, she stayed lying still on the hospital bed, letting fate poke at her brain like a toddler with a giant foam finger. Okay, H-h-hospital. That explains the Bandages. No painkillers. Maybe that’s why I feel bad. Who are these people and why do they care? Aira and Aelyn. So, there are two people here with me. Heh, AA. Relevant. In regard to Aira’s(?) question, Liv did remember. She could see the Shuffler in her mind’s eye, even though the image was a little blurry at the time, and she saw her arm shoot out, ending his life. The moment was chiseled into the bedrock of her mind as one of the worst moments of her life. But it was necessary. He would have done the same. It was kill or be killed in the slums. That was how things worked. She recognized the last voice. It was the same voice that called out to her in the warehouse and the same voice that tried to calm her down earlier. It was gentle. Liv couldn’t tell if it was trying to make peace or prove a point. But Liv also didn’t know who was who. She admitted that her intensity may have been a bit harsh. But she wanted her things. They were the last pieces she had to remember the good times. If she lost them, she didn’t know if she’d ever go back. She still didn’t know if these two stole her things, but if she was in a hospital, her coat and jewelry might be kept on a counter nearby. Above all of that, haunting her attempts at cohesive thought, sat the blubbering force of addiction that collapsed on her head. It tried to compromise her motor functions and send her body into tremors. But, due to pain, her brain sought preservation over the outward expression of need. But Liv’s thoughts, not tied to hospital bed, fled to carsunum. “I-I remember. He tried to take my stuff. He tried to take advantage of me and might have killed me. But I killed him first. It was the only thing that they understood. They were afraid of me because I screamed. They were afraid of me because they didn’t know me. But when they thought I was weak, they moved in to finish it.” Liv’s voice was congested by the bandages around her mouth and the stifling desire that built in her mind. “I-I… do any of you have any carsunum? Did you happen to get my capsule? I think I dropped it.”

Liv's awareness was dim: Muffled sounds pounded the side of her head with terrible raucous music, stabbing tiny needles into the meat of her brain. Pain wracked her lower back when she tried to move, and her stiff muscles were crying with every attempt to sit up. She made to open her eyes, but they recoiled against the bright fluorescent light. It was a chorus of discomfort, accented with occasional tremors. Cold sweat clung to her forehead. Her palms were clammy and she felt a light pressure in the crook of her left arm. She felt her right-hand climb across her body. Small callused fingers poked, prodded, and groped, trying to assess the damage. It was an odd feeling, a spectral hand creeping over her skin, but the calluses were familiar and helped to remove the picture of a spider from her unconscious mind. She found bandages covering her skin. Bandages? Did someone pick me up? She found a needle in her left arm. A needle? Is someone drugging me? She found that her piercings and jacket were missing. OKAY… NOW I’M KRIFFING MAD. Liv strained against her bed. A huge surge of adrenaline made the monitors go crazy and her heartbeat accelerated into rapid fluctuations. Beyond the pain of her injuries, and beyond the hazy delirium of her withdrawals, her mind twisted with agony and loss. Olivia? It's alright. You're okay now. The words were soft. They were meant to calm. But Liv wasn’t calm. Her pain was back and digging into her mind. Her possessions were gone. And she was in a strange place with someone she didn’t know. Liv figured it was safe to say that things were not fine. Things were not, ‘alright.’ Her mouth was one of the only places not crippled by the pain in her body. So, it wasn’t very hard to conjure up an effective response: “Okay?! By who’s kriffing measurement?! … I don’t know where I am. People have taken my things and I am in extreme pain. I would wager that, 'fine,' is a far stretch from whatever THIS is. Also, its Liv. Only my mother called me Olivia.”

Her mind was muddled. She tried to move a hand, a foot, or some other extremity. But access to her body was cut off. It was dark, everything was dark. A little girl with long curly brown hair, ran through tall yellow grass. The sun was setting on the horizon, and it licked the tops of the foliage as it left. A warm breeze brushed across and pushed the grass around like a massive brush, tickling the world with another natural artistic wonder. The little girl flew across it all, defying fear. She was tumbling with glee and celebrating her youth with fits of giggles. Something stirred underneath the grass. The ground rippled and a palpable hue of discomfort took hold. Before, where the field was filled with yellow vitality, it was replaced by the red of dried blood. The sky filled with darkness and shrieks echoed off in the distance. The little girl cowered with barely contained fear and tried to scramble away from the malaise. Bits of colored dust flew from the ground and obscured the way, but the girl kept running. She cried, Help me Mommy! But no answer came. She fled tirelessly until she tripped over a lump on the ground, a cough catching in her throat. She turned to look at the lump and her peach-white face drained of color. Her mouth hung open and she crumpled to the ground with heaving sobs. She didn't look at the world. She didn't want to. Somebody.... Please, help me.

The sudden light from the open door startled Liv. It magnified in intensity and for a moment she was dazed. A few of the drifters made to take advantage of the distraction, but Liv’s weary subconscious seized control and moved her body out of the way. They ran past, not registering the change, and slammed into the metal wall with meaty thumps. Liv swayed a little. Her body was not accustomed to the sudden movement, and her head was still light and fluffy. But she still clung to herself as best she could. She felt her feet on the ground and clung to the stability in their grip. Her mind was still a crazy cloud of pink confetti. But it was something. "Maybe we can talk about this?" The voice was soft; very indicative of someone new. The others didn’t talk much. They acted. It was a writhing pile of impulse and need and talking would often get you killed. Any distraction, any hesitation, and any misstep, could lead to death. Liv saw it. Liv knew it. And Liv regretted it. Others around the warehouse started to wake. When they saw the newcomers, the unwashed masses milled like rag-covered vagrant zombies toward the open door. Liv couldn’t make them all out. But she was slowly regaining touches of sobriety. Her body shook with every tremor of drug loss. She tried to reach for the spice in her right hand. But her mind still fought for control. She was still in shock. Slowly, as the time grew, Liv’s tremors became more violent. She dodged to avoid another violent transient and shook. Her right hand shifted too much and upended the capsule grasped between her thumb and forefinger, spilling spice all over the floor. Liv’s good eye widened again. Rage and need desperately fought to the surface of her mind. And her thoughts, for what they were, aligned in one single moment of clarity. I could mop it up. I could sniff it on the ground? NO. THEY TOOK THIS FROM ME. She shrieked, sending a wave of energy through the warehouse and straining her vocal chords once more. Vagrants that pursued her were knocked to the ground with a violent push. All the milling zombies were pushed roughly to the warehouse walls. Their weakened bodies groaned under the pressure and a few of them tried to stand again. But they were weary. Any strain caused their bodies to wither back into unconsciousness. Liv struggled too. For all her blustering and knife slashing, she was on her last legs. The pain in her body was catching up to her: memories, wounds, trauma. All of it somehow more painful than it had been before. She couldn’t shake the searing agony deep inside her as it ignited in a beautiful flame. Sorry mom… Then, with a single sigh, Liv fell to the ground. Her body twitched. Extreme exhaustion drug her into an unconscious state. And she lay there, turbulence broiling deep in the riot of her mind.