Chapter Ten
4 Years Later
"Students, they will break your mind with their psychology and leave you a babbling shell, giving you no choice but to take your own life. Therefore, Students are by far the more dangerous of the two Classes of Irk. Despite this, it is a tragically common occurrence for such a dangerous Student to want, and to commit, suicide. For many, it seems the only way out of a repressed existence that was much too painful for the wretched individual to continue on living. And for the many who have committed this act, irony does not desert them, for, often, it seemed that a great, and wondrous change was only hours away from reaching them."
-Scholar Ressut Trev, 322298
"And it doesn't bother you in the slightest that you'll have to step down soon?"
"Nope."
"Oh come on! It does too, you old faker."
"Hey, you'd be glad to pass on all the padwork too, if you were me."
Min shook his head. "With that attitude, Regert, you should make the shortest Boss, instead of the Tallest," he laughed, taking a sip of his ahki. He felt lighthearted for the first time in a long while.
Lidge was coming home today. Her four years on Devastis were over. Most of West Jihi had pitched in on their days off to keep her apartment and belongings in order during her time away, and now were celebrating on West Jihi's workfloor with well-earned drinks. Regert had, obviously, no problem with reinstating Lidge to her former position. He couldn't wait, in fact, to turn over the responsibility to the younger Irken. All he had to do was wait for her to arrive. He had even invited Swar Aman to join in the revelry. The slender scholar kept a hand on his thick arm most of the time, a bit unsure of herself among the ranks of the familiar celebrators. A glass of amrinae was perched daintily between her fingers.
The party had spread up to the boss's platform, as some mechanics had become more and more impatient for Lidge's arrival. Min was one of them. He paced, his head nodded forward, studying the floor beneath him, and his hands twitching slightly with each step. Orange eyes followed him from their owner's perched position on the railing. Kaml sighed, tightening his hold on Shil's small waist. "She'll be here Min... don't you worry..."
He looked up abruptly, gray eyes widening a fraction. "I'm not pacing because of her, Kam. Pira went-"
"She went across the room."
Now his eyes flashed. They calmed before he spoke again. "You'd never understand what's gone through my mind. Never. You'd never understand what my life has been like," Min muttered, making a visible effort to keep his voice level.
Kaml just sighed, studying the toe of his boot. His student had been snappish of late, a condition the teacher had attributed to both Lidge's long absence, and the general moodiness Min had somehow absorbed from Jendai. Like teacher, like student, it was said, and no one ever questioned how it happened. Traits were constantly being passed down along name lines, gathering recognition until what one needed to describe a Student was, more or less, only his name. Kaml hoped this recent run of irritability would vanish as soon as Lidge showed up. He noticed Shil about to reprimand the smoldering gray-eye and quieted her with a frantic squeeze.
"Teacher Kaalae!"
It was the voice Min had been waiting for. He fairly sprinted to the head of the stairwell watching every limping step his student took with a worried look that was evident even in his posture. Eight years old now, Pira had learned to deal with her limp with an ease given to her through her robotic limbs. She was confident, moving up the stairs carefully, with a proud lift to her head. Turquoise eyes sparkled at those gathered on the platform. There was nothing visible in her face, or the way she carried herself that showed she had been defeated by the injury of four years past. It was quality, that untamable spirit, that heartened Min. It was the only trait of his name he wanted Pira to have, and she had adopted it. She reached him now, displaying a bottle of fruit juice for his approval. "It was the last one," she said, smirking sheepishly. "I dunno why. No one else here drinks it."
On impulse, Min grabbed her, pulling her close. She squeaked, the high-pitched noise dissolving into a gentle laugh. "Maybe you drank them all, Pint-size," he whispered, trying to raise his voice a little. For a reason unknown to him, he felt a surge of pride towards his student, merely because she had done something as simple as walk up a staircase without tripping.
"Probably," she agreed, rolling her eyes slightly. "There weren't even that many to begin with." Pira shot a soft smile towards Kaml, and the rest of those gathered on the platform. "Hey, when's she coming? They're getting restless down there."
"That's an understatement..." a low voice replied. The group turned to the stairway, facing someone they hadn't noticed until now. Cerol Haye stood at the top of the stairs, taller, leaner, and more imposing than anyone had ever seen before. His good eye glittered in the light, sparkling coolly at them, while his blind eye stared through them, harder and far more distant than ever. "You don't want her to come. When she comes, there will be pain."
For a moment, no one spoke, not even Min. The mismatched eyes flicked over each of them in turn, coming to rest on Pira's nervous face. In an instant, Cerol changed, his entire mannerism becoming one of calm friendliness, rather than the daunting air he'd had earlier. He walked over, gracefully, and set a light hand on the youngster's shoulder. "You look well, Pira," he said, softly, almost so as not to frighten her. She looked up at him, giving Cerol a timid smile. "I'm glad..."
Shil's dark green eyes never left her former student. She worried about him more than ever now. He hadn't recovered from the incident of Impending Doom. There was always a haunted, terror-stricken look lingering in the backs of his eyes. Even when he seemed to be happy. Her hand tightened on Kaml's. He held her close in response. She wanted to go to Cerol. There had to be something she could do for him. Even something so mundane as to have him come to her apartment for a drink. Anything to chase that deeply rooted look of hurt in his eyes. Unfortunately, at the moment, her student had become involved in a muted conversation at the head of the stairs with Min, the gray-eye obviously attempting to do what Shil herself could not.
"Don't worry," Kaml whispered, hopping lightly off the railing, supporting her all the while. "Min always cheers him up."
It seemed to be true. Cerol's antennae had risen a bit, and he was more relaxed than Shil had seen him since Impending Doom. The two continued to speak until West Jihi's huge front doors swung open, hydraulics hissing, to reveal a ragged form with an escort that was nothing short of startling.
The Lidge that entered the door was nothing like the one who had left. In fact, the only thing anyone could recognize about her was her uniform, freshly washed, with a few holes patched with material that wasn't exactly the same color as the rest of the garment. Her pants were threadbare, more gray than black, hanging on too-thin hips. No one said anything, but her boots were missing, her feet painted black to hide the lack of footwear. The bones in her face stood out, framing magenta eyes that still, despite her sentence, burned with a vengeful flame. Her antennae perked, she strode into the building, gazing around at the familiar faces, a slight smile forming on thin, pale lips. Behind her, the Soldiers under the command of none other than Rael nodded to the mechanics, and left, turning away on an unseen signal.
Kaml was the first to her side, sweeping her up in an embrace that knocked her off her painted feet. Her arms wrapped around his neck, murmuring something quietly that only her teacher was able to hear. Min was next, grabbing Lidge in much the same fashion as Kaml had, the only difference being that Lidge pressed her mouth rather roughly against Min's and it was a longer time before they separated. More mechanics surrounded her, each one demanding a story, or a handshake, something to tell them that it really was Lidge that stood before them, and not some bizarre creature thrown in from a backwater planet.
"There's so much I have to say," Lidge murmured, breathless at seeing them all once again. Joy sparked in her eye, undiminished by vengeance. "So much I have to tell you all." Her arms wrapped around Min again. The motion wasn't noticed, as chatter began again in earnest. Questions came, mostly about what the conditions had been like, and were answered with a teacher's patience that the Lidge who had left West Jihi had never possessed. The only time she did become annoyed was when someone mentioned Cerol Haye had attended the party. When closer inspection revealed that he had vanished again, Lidge settled back into a state of calm relief. She resumed answering questions until, at one point, Regert brought her an ahki. Lidge's eyes had lit up and the drink had to be taken from her momentarily to prevent her choking on it. This incident worried Kaml, but he refused to voice his concern. It was a happy occasion that shouldn't be marred by fears.
It was then that West Jihi's main video line beeped, silencing the party.
Confused voices rose, some demanding the beeping be silenced, others wanted to know who dared interrupt this celebration. Regert moved through the crowd, uttering little excuses, to get to the console. He pounded on it with a fist to televise the transmission to West Jihi's large screens. Orders were usually posted there on workdays. "West Jihi," he said, voice reverberating through the room. "We're closed today so if you could just wai-" Regert stopped mid-sentence. "Sir! Erm... what can West Jihi do for you?"
Tallest Red's face appeared on the screens. This alone should have been enough to startle the viewers. Yet, what surprised them the most was his appearance. There were slight rims around both of his eyes, and his lower lip had a deep impression in it from the Tallest's own teeth. His red eyes were pale, worried by something other than the usual affairs of the Empire or the Armada. Red's voice was distant, monotone, as if his mind were not anywhere near their conversation. "Employees at West... Jihi workshop..." he began. He spoke heavily, careful to pronounce every word with painful, almost uncertain clarity. "It... It is with regret... that I have been charged to inform you of an... incident involving a... a previous employee."
Several intakes of breath were heard at that. Lidge's gloved hand sought Min's. Scarcely anyone dared to move, lest it break the tension mounting in the room and bring the focus on them.
"It was a week ago... that I... received the transmission from one Soldier Zim... who... brought us this news. It... seems that he was on the same planet as the previous employee... who was in exile..." Red's discomfort with the information was so obvious it frightened some of the younger mechanics. "Apparently... the... two of them were familiar with each other... and so... it... Zim... he felt it... necessary to... inform both Tallest Purple and... you," he gestured roughly to the assembled Irkens. "that the employee in question... er... by Irk, this is... difficult..."
An apprehensive silence followed as Red gathered his thoughts for the main point of his transmission. The Students may as well have been made of stone for all they moved. There was not a fallen pair of antennae in the room.
"Eh... the exile in question... Jendai Kaalae... took his own life a week ago."
The reaction in the room was subtle, yet those who where there felt it instantly. An intake of breath was heard throughout the group. Hands were clasped as shock took hold of some, tears bitten back as grief overtook others. No one spoke a word, nor did they allow themselves to release any sobs. Not while Tallest Red looked down on them. He finally took pity on them, terminating the transmission, his antennae uncharacteristically flat against his head.
Turmoil had subsided into silence when night fell over West Jihi. Almost everyone had gone home, retiring to their dreams to forget the day's events. It was a small consolation that some of them had been too drunk to even grasp the depth of the situation. For those who had been sober, however, the news was almost too much to bear. There were few employees who had not known who Jendai Kaalae was, and had not grieved for him when his banishment had been made known. They grieved for him more now.
Lights from passing ground transports, as well as the shop's own exterior lamps cast long patches of illumination over the floor of the workshop. Inside, it was dark, save for the areas near the windows where the light filtered in. It was in one of these patches of light that two slim figures were framed, their eyes, gray and turquoise, glowing in the dimness. Before them was a small table that had been cleared of all tools, paperwork and other such debris. Resting on it now were several small holographs of the deceased mechanic, surrounded by a few stunted lumps of what had once been a waxy substance. The lumps had strips of oily rags shoved roughly into them, serving as wicks to keep the makeshift candles burning. Such a tribute had been Cerol's thickly voiced idea.
The so-called candles cast a warm, comforting light across Min's deeply lined face. He could see why they had been used so many years ago for this sort of thing. The little flames danced, reflected in sunken gray eyes, lending what cheer they could to any observer. They were happy little flames, content to simply flicker where they stood, shining almost painfully into his eyes.
Pira whimpered softly, snuggling closer to him. He stroked her antennae mechanically, his eyes riveted to the one picture on the table of Jendai smiling. Min's thoughts wandered desolately from one memory to another. He wasn't really thinking of anything in particular, just seeking an escape from his reality. Yet his thoughts kept coming back to Jendai. How short a time the pair of sad blue eyes had stared down at him, how his miscellaneous and bizarre creations were scattered across desks and tables at random, his teaching, however little of it Min had been subjected to... it all came back to him now.
He looked down at Pira, her gloved hands each closed around a fistful of gray uniform, regarding her fondly. The heir to a legacy of suffering, she was. How would he be able to give her all that he had gotten from his Kaalae teacher? It didn't matter how long you were with a teacher. What mattered was what they taught you in the time you had with them. He would never be able to express his thanks to his first teacher. Never be able to show him Pira's abilities or her blatant determination, which he knew the deceased Kaalae would have admired. Now he knew he should have thanked him, that night in the eerily desolate jail cell, for more than just the name. If Jendai hadn't been banished... hadn't died... how would his bleak eyes view his student...?
...What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance...
For the first time in his life, Min found himself gazing skywards towards more than just the distant stars and vibrant moons. The fractured belief other Students had in the faded deity known as "The Mother Of Irk" had never seemed to hold anything worth his interest before. Now however, his gaze was reverted to whatever lay beyond the glittering suns of other worlds. For the sake of easing his grief, he had to believe there was something out there for the Irken souls to live in. Something safe, welcoming, and forever without the pain he knew Students so keenly felt. Maybe the "goddess" herself waited for you, to usher you down pathways free of earthly woes and needs. Fleetingly, he wondered if anyone else had come to the same thoughts and ideas as he had. Maybe if he let them know... some of Lidge's agonized tears would ebb.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
What would Jendai have thought of him? That nagging thought kept coming back, no matter how many times he tried to stave it off. The question haunted him now. It never had before, while he'd known his original teacher to be alive. Why now? It didn't make sense. Although... as he sat there, clutching Pira to him in the semi-darkness, a strange sort of idea started forming. All his life, he had tried in vain to be utterly and completely different from an Irken he had known all of three days. In realizing his failure, he had, subconsciously, become more like his teacher. Because of this, Min rationalized, he wanted approval or disapproval of any and all of his actions. Especially, his involvement in the Uprisings...
...So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance...
By Irk, why did Jendai have to be as stupid and suicidal as the fanatics in the Uprising? He had left too many unanswered questions, too many loose ends, too many friends behind. It was the first moment, that Min could clearly remember that, he felt he truly needed his teacher with him, alive, safe and whole, to teach him and to guide him. He needed to talk to him, to explain himself to him. He'd known, all this time, deep in his subconscious, that he had been loved. Lidge had been loved, as had Kaml, Regert, Swar, and even Leeri, the traitorous female. For someone who had seen so much pain, he mused, his teacher had trusted so many. Thinking back, Min bitterly reflected that such a trust had ultimately led his teacher to his death.
...And if you were with me tonight,
I'd sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big,
god wouldn't let it live...
"Go home. You need sleep," his mind ordered. No... he wasn't ready to leave. He couldn't be tired yet. It was impossible to think that he could be subjected to such a mundane a need as sleep in this moment of lonely contemplation. There was too much he had neglected to mull over, too many thoughts left locked away in the vaults of memories repressed for a reason now unknown to him. But still... He had Pira to think of. She needed to be home. She needed to be as safe as he could keep her until they were finally forced to go their separate ways. Though, he vowed their separation would be far less painful than his had been. Carefully, he stood, holding her close to him. There would be plenty of time in the morning to talk, to ease the burden of their friend's parting.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
West Jihi's heavy doors parted a fraction to let him slip out. For a long, tense moment, he stood in the doorway, staring out at the street beyond. Out there, life continued at its safe frantic pace, oblivious to the tragedy that fractured so many seemingly normal lives. He stared up at the stars, the one place that seemed to quietly echo the sorrow of both Classes and those of West Jihi. There had been too many deaths of late, and the very stars themselves mourned each Irken's passing. All of it, in Min's mind, could be traced back to the strands of trust that wrapped themselves throughout one's brain. The Uprisers had trusted Lidge... and died. The Soldiers had trusted their commanders... and died. Jendai had trusted Leeri... and consequently... died. However, the stars trusted nothing. They were dimmed by the artificial lights of Irk, but were never fully extinguished. He supposed, they were the ultimate goal for an Irken. To be a star, to find the midpoint where trust and distrust aided you equally.
He wished Jendai had found that midpoint. Then, maybe, all this death may have somehow been avoided. Then, maybe, the stars would not have to weep.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
Silently, he gave one careful glance backwards, towards the makeshift monument, a shadow from a passing transport hiding his face. There was more he would think about tomorrow... when Pira was safe at home, and all his duties as a teacher fulfilled. There was so much he wanted to say to Jendai... so much he never would...
...May angels lead you in...
Min Kaalae turned back towards the street and disappeared up the stairs to the voot docking bay, Pira asleep in his trembling arms.
4 Years Later
"Students, they will break your mind with their psychology and leave you a babbling shell, giving you no choice but to take your own life. Therefore, Students are by far the more dangerous of the two Classes of Irk. Despite this, it is a tragically common occurrence for such a dangerous Student to want, and to commit, suicide. For many, it seems the only way out of a repressed existence that was much too painful for the wretched individual to continue on living. And for the many who have committed this act, irony does not desert them, for, often, it seemed that a great, and wondrous change was only hours away from reaching them."
-Scholar Ressut Trev, 322298
"And it doesn't bother you in the slightest that you'll have to step down soon?"
"Nope."
"Oh come on! It does too, you old faker."
"Hey, you'd be glad to pass on all the padwork too, if you were me."
Min shook his head. "With that attitude, Regert, you should make the shortest Boss, instead of the Tallest," he laughed, taking a sip of his ahki. He felt lighthearted for the first time in a long while.
Lidge was coming home today. Her four years on Devastis were over. Most of West Jihi had pitched in on their days off to keep her apartment and belongings in order during her time away, and now were celebrating on West Jihi's workfloor with well-earned drinks. Regert had, obviously, no problem with reinstating Lidge to her former position. He couldn't wait, in fact, to turn over the responsibility to the younger Irken. All he had to do was wait for her to arrive. He had even invited Swar Aman to join in the revelry. The slender scholar kept a hand on his thick arm most of the time, a bit unsure of herself among the ranks of the familiar celebrators. A glass of amrinae was perched daintily between her fingers.
The party had spread up to the boss's platform, as some mechanics had become more and more impatient for Lidge's arrival. Min was one of them. He paced, his head nodded forward, studying the floor beneath him, and his hands twitching slightly with each step. Orange eyes followed him from their owner's perched position on the railing. Kaml sighed, tightening his hold on Shil's small waist. "She'll be here Min... don't you worry..."
He looked up abruptly, gray eyes widening a fraction. "I'm not pacing because of her, Kam. Pira went-"
"She went across the room."
Now his eyes flashed. They calmed before he spoke again. "You'd never understand what's gone through my mind. Never. You'd never understand what my life has been like," Min muttered, making a visible effort to keep his voice level.
Kaml just sighed, studying the toe of his boot. His student had been snappish of late, a condition the teacher had attributed to both Lidge's long absence, and the general moodiness Min had somehow absorbed from Jendai. Like teacher, like student, it was said, and no one ever questioned how it happened. Traits were constantly being passed down along name lines, gathering recognition until what one needed to describe a Student was, more or less, only his name. Kaml hoped this recent run of irritability would vanish as soon as Lidge showed up. He noticed Shil about to reprimand the smoldering gray-eye and quieted her with a frantic squeeze.
"Teacher Kaalae!"
It was the voice Min had been waiting for. He fairly sprinted to the head of the stairwell watching every limping step his student took with a worried look that was evident even in his posture. Eight years old now, Pira had learned to deal with her limp with an ease given to her through her robotic limbs. She was confident, moving up the stairs carefully, with a proud lift to her head. Turquoise eyes sparkled at those gathered on the platform. There was nothing visible in her face, or the way she carried herself that showed she had been defeated by the injury of four years past. It was quality, that untamable spirit, that heartened Min. It was the only trait of his name he wanted Pira to have, and she had adopted it. She reached him now, displaying a bottle of fruit juice for his approval. "It was the last one," she said, smirking sheepishly. "I dunno why. No one else here drinks it."
On impulse, Min grabbed her, pulling her close. She squeaked, the high-pitched noise dissolving into a gentle laugh. "Maybe you drank them all, Pint-size," he whispered, trying to raise his voice a little. For a reason unknown to him, he felt a surge of pride towards his student, merely because she had done something as simple as walk up a staircase without tripping.
"Probably," she agreed, rolling her eyes slightly. "There weren't even that many to begin with." Pira shot a soft smile towards Kaml, and the rest of those gathered on the platform. "Hey, when's she coming? They're getting restless down there."
"That's an understatement..." a low voice replied. The group turned to the stairway, facing someone they hadn't noticed until now. Cerol Haye stood at the top of the stairs, taller, leaner, and more imposing than anyone had ever seen before. His good eye glittered in the light, sparkling coolly at them, while his blind eye stared through them, harder and far more distant than ever. "You don't want her to come. When she comes, there will be pain."
For a moment, no one spoke, not even Min. The mismatched eyes flicked over each of them in turn, coming to rest on Pira's nervous face. In an instant, Cerol changed, his entire mannerism becoming one of calm friendliness, rather than the daunting air he'd had earlier. He walked over, gracefully, and set a light hand on the youngster's shoulder. "You look well, Pira," he said, softly, almost so as not to frighten her. She looked up at him, giving Cerol a timid smile. "I'm glad..."
Shil's dark green eyes never left her former student. She worried about him more than ever now. He hadn't recovered from the incident of Impending Doom. There was always a haunted, terror-stricken look lingering in the backs of his eyes. Even when he seemed to be happy. Her hand tightened on Kaml's. He held her close in response. She wanted to go to Cerol. There had to be something she could do for him. Even something so mundane as to have him come to her apartment for a drink. Anything to chase that deeply rooted look of hurt in his eyes. Unfortunately, at the moment, her student had become involved in a muted conversation at the head of the stairs with Min, the gray-eye obviously attempting to do what Shil herself could not.
"Don't worry," Kaml whispered, hopping lightly off the railing, supporting her all the while. "Min always cheers him up."
It seemed to be true. Cerol's antennae had risen a bit, and he was more relaxed than Shil had seen him since Impending Doom. The two continued to speak until West Jihi's huge front doors swung open, hydraulics hissing, to reveal a ragged form with an escort that was nothing short of startling.
The Lidge that entered the door was nothing like the one who had left. In fact, the only thing anyone could recognize about her was her uniform, freshly washed, with a few holes patched with material that wasn't exactly the same color as the rest of the garment. Her pants were threadbare, more gray than black, hanging on too-thin hips. No one said anything, but her boots were missing, her feet painted black to hide the lack of footwear. The bones in her face stood out, framing magenta eyes that still, despite her sentence, burned with a vengeful flame. Her antennae perked, she strode into the building, gazing around at the familiar faces, a slight smile forming on thin, pale lips. Behind her, the Soldiers under the command of none other than Rael nodded to the mechanics, and left, turning away on an unseen signal.
Kaml was the first to her side, sweeping her up in an embrace that knocked her off her painted feet. Her arms wrapped around his neck, murmuring something quietly that only her teacher was able to hear. Min was next, grabbing Lidge in much the same fashion as Kaml had, the only difference being that Lidge pressed her mouth rather roughly against Min's and it was a longer time before they separated. More mechanics surrounded her, each one demanding a story, or a handshake, something to tell them that it really was Lidge that stood before them, and not some bizarre creature thrown in from a backwater planet.
"There's so much I have to say," Lidge murmured, breathless at seeing them all once again. Joy sparked in her eye, undiminished by vengeance. "So much I have to tell you all." Her arms wrapped around Min again. The motion wasn't noticed, as chatter began again in earnest. Questions came, mostly about what the conditions had been like, and were answered with a teacher's patience that the Lidge who had left West Jihi had never possessed. The only time she did become annoyed was when someone mentioned Cerol Haye had attended the party. When closer inspection revealed that he had vanished again, Lidge settled back into a state of calm relief. She resumed answering questions until, at one point, Regert brought her an ahki. Lidge's eyes had lit up and the drink had to be taken from her momentarily to prevent her choking on it. This incident worried Kaml, but he refused to voice his concern. It was a happy occasion that shouldn't be marred by fears.
It was then that West Jihi's main video line beeped, silencing the party.
Confused voices rose, some demanding the beeping be silenced, others wanted to know who dared interrupt this celebration. Regert moved through the crowd, uttering little excuses, to get to the console. He pounded on it with a fist to televise the transmission to West Jihi's large screens. Orders were usually posted there on workdays. "West Jihi," he said, voice reverberating through the room. "We're closed today so if you could just wai-" Regert stopped mid-sentence. "Sir! Erm... what can West Jihi do for you?"
Tallest Red's face appeared on the screens. This alone should have been enough to startle the viewers. Yet, what surprised them the most was his appearance. There were slight rims around both of his eyes, and his lower lip had a deep impression in it from the Tallest's own teeth. His red eyes were pale, worried by something other than the usual affairs of the Empire or the Armada. Red's voice was distant, monotone, as if his mind were not anywhere near their conversation. "Employees at West... Jihi workshop..." he began. He spoke heavily, careful to pronounce every word with painful, almost uncertain clarity. "It... It is with regret... that I have been charged to inform you of an... incident involving a... a previous employee."
Several intakes of breath were heard at that. Lidge's gloved hand sought Min's. Scarcely anyone dared to move, lest it break the tension mounting in the room and bring the focus on them.
"It was a week ago... that I... received the transmission from one Soldier Zim... who... brought us this news. It... seems that he was on the same planet as the previous employee... who was in exile..." Red's discomfort with the information was so obvious it frightened some of the younger mechanics. "Apparently... the... two of them were familiar with each other... and so... it... Zim... he felt it... necessary to... inform both Tallest Purple and... you," he gestured roughly to the assembled Irkens. "that the employee in question... er... by Irk, this is... difficult..."
An apprehensive silence followed as Red gathered his thoughts for the main point of his transmission. The Students may as well have been made of stone for all they moved. There was not a fallen pair of antennae in the room.
"Eh... the exile in question... Jendai Kaalae... took his own life a week ago."
The reaction in the room was subtle, yet those who where there felt it instantly. An intake of breath was heard throughout the group. Hands were clasped as shock took hold of some, tears bitten back as grief overtook others. No one spoke a word, nor did they allow themselves to release any sobs. Not while Tallest Red looked down on them. He finally took pity on them, terminating the transmission, his antennae uncharacteristically flat against his head.
Turmoil had subsided into silence when night fell over West Jihi. Almost everyone had gone home, retiring to their dreams to forget the day's events. It was a small consolation that some of them had been too drunk to even grasp the depth of the situation. For those who had been sober, however, the news was almost too much to bear. There were few employees who had not known who Jendai Kaalae was, and had not grieved for him when his banishment had been made known. They grieved for him more now.
Lights from passing ground transports, as well as the shop's own exterior lamps cast long patches of illumination over the floor of the workshop. Inside, it was dark, save for the areas near the windows where the light filtered in. It was in one of these patches of light that two slim figures were framed, their eyes, gray and turquoise, glowing in the dimness. Before them was a small table that had been cleared of all tools, paperwork and other such debris. Resting on it now were several small holographs of the deceased mechanic, surrounded by a few stunted lumps of what had once been a waxy substance. The lumps had strips of oily rags shoved roughly into them, serving as wicks to keep the makeshift candles burning. Such a tribute had been Cerol's thickly voiced idea.
The so-called candles cast a warm, comforting light across Min's deeply lined face. He could see why they had been used so many years ago for this sort of thing. The little flames danced, reflected in sunken gray eyes, lending what cheer they could to any observer. They were happy little flames, content to simply flicker where they stood, shining almost painfully into his eyes.
Pira whimpered softly, snuggling closer to him. He stroked her antennae mechanically, his eyes riveted to the one picture on the table of Jendai smiling. Min's thoughts wandered desolately from one memory to another. He wasn't really thinking of anything in particular, just seeking an escape from his reality. Yet his thoughts kept coming back to Jendai. How short a time the pair of sad blue eyes had stared down at him, how his miscellaneous and bizarre creations were scattered across desks and tables at random, his teaching, however little of it Min had been subjected to... it all came back to him now.
He looked down at Pira, her gloved hands each closed around a fistful of gray uniform, regarding her fondly. The heir to a legacy of suffering, she was. How would he be able to give her all that he had gotten from his Kaalae teacher? It didn't matter how long you were with a teacher. What mattered was what they taught you in the time you had with them. He would never be able to express his thanks to his first teacher. Never be able to show him Pira's abilities or her blatant determination, which he knew the deceased Kaalae would have admired. Now he knew he should have thanked him, that night in the eerily desolate jail cell, for more than just the name. If Jendai hadn't been banished... hadn't died... how would his bleak eyes view his student...?
...What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance...
For the first time in his life, Min found himself gazing skywards towards more than just the distant stars and vibrant moons. The fractured belief other Students had in the faded deity known as "The Mother Of Irk" had never seemed to hold anything worth his interest before. Now however, his gaze was reverted to whatever lay beyond the glittering suns of other worlds. For the sake of easing his grief, he had to believe there was something out there for the Irken souls to live in. Something safe, welcoming, and forever without the pain he knew Students so keenly felt. Maybe the "goddess" herself waited for you, to usher you down pathways free of earthly woes and needs. Fleetingly, he wondered if anyone else had come to the same thoughts and ideas as he had. Maybe if he let them know... some of Lidge's agonized tears would ebb.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
What would Jendai have thought of him? That nagging thought kept coming back, no matter how many times he tried to stave it off. The question haunted him now. It never had before, while he'd known his original teacher to be alive. Why now? It didn't make sense. Although... as he sat there, clutching Pira to him in the semi-darkness, a strange sort of idea started forming. All his life, he had tried in vain to be utterly and completely different from an Irken he had known all of three days. In realizing his failure, he had, subconsciously, become more like his teacher. Because of this, Min rationalized, he wanted approval or disapproval of any and all of his actions. Especially, his involvement in the Uprisings...
...So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance...
By Irk, why did Jendai have to be as stupid and suicidal as the fanatics in the Uprising? He had left too many unanswered questions, too many loose ends, too many friends behind. It was the first moment, that Min could clearly remember that, he felt he truly needed his teacher with him, alive, safe and whole, to teach him and to guide him. He needed to talk to him, to explain himself to him. He'd known, all this time, deep in his subconscious, that he had been loved. Lidge had been loved, as had Kaml, Regert, Swar, and even Leeri, the traitorous female. For someone who had seen so much pain, he mused, his teacher had trusted so many. Thinking back, Min bitterly reflected that such a trust had ultimately led his teacher to his death.
...And if you were with me tonight,
I'd sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big,
god wouldn't let it live...
"Go home. You need sleep," his mind ordered. No... he wasn't ready to leave. He couldn't be tired yet. It was impossible to think that he could be subjected to such a mundane a need as sleep in this moment of lonely contemplation. There was too much he had neglected to mull over, too many thoughts left locked away in the vaults of memories repressed for a reason now unknown to him. But still... He had Pira to think of. She needed to be home. She needed to be as safe as he could keep her until they were finally forced to go their separate ways. Though, he vowed their separation would be far less painful than his had been. Carefully, he stood, holding her close to him. There would be plenty of time in the morning to talk, to ease the burden of their friend's parting.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
West Jihi's heavy doors parted a fraction to let him slip out. For a long, tense moment, he stood in the doorway, staring out at the street beyond. Out there, life continued at its safe frantic pace, oblivious to the tragedy that fractured so many seemingly normal lives. He stared up at the stars, the one place that seemed to quietly echo the sorrow of both Classes and those of West Jihi. There had been too many deaths of late, and the very stars themselves mourned each Irken's passing. All of it, in Min's mind, could be traced back to the strands of trust that wrapped themselves throughout one's brain. The Uprisers had trusted Lidge... and died. The Soldiers had trusted their commanders... and died. Jendai had trusted Leeri... and consequently... died. However, the stars trusted nothing. They were dimmed by the artificial lights of Irk, but were never fully extinguished. He supposed, they were the ultimate goal for an Irken. To be a star, to find the midpoint where trust and distrust aided you equally.
He wished Jendai had found that midpoint. Then, maybe, all this death may have somehow been avoided. Then, maybe, the stars would not have to weep.
...May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in...
Silently, he gave one careful glance backwards, towards the makeshift monument, a shadow from a passing transport hiding his face. There was more he would think about tomorrow... when Pira was safe at home, and all his duties as a teacher fulfilled. There was so much he wanted to say to Jendai... so much he never would...
...May angels lead you in...
Min Kaalae turned back towards the street and disappeared up the stairs to the voot docking bay, Pira asleep in his trembling arms.