After defeating Darth Jadus, Imperial Agent Linar Frill and his companions, take a small vacation. Unexpectedly, Linar finds himself in vulnerable position, and he has to deal with deep buried emotions, and forgotten memories. All triggered, by a simple piano.
The flat was as Imperial as it gets. Quiet, empty, sickly clean. Colour drained from the walls and the floor, and a bright, cold light. It was hard to call such a place home, and yet, it was.
Linar rarely came here, and it was his first time back since his appointment on Hutta. Nobody was waiting, so there was no point coming back to an empty place. Actually, his ship felt more like a home to him than this, but he couldn't just float in space, waiting for the Keeper to contact him about his next mission. He had some free time, and so he figured he could spend it on some solid ground.
Kaliyo quickly found her way around the New Adasta cantinas. Linar hadn't seen her a lot, nor knew what she was doing, and he preferred it that way. Vector… He hasn't seen him much either. For the few days that they spent on Ziost, Vector usually just walked around the outskirts of the city, or stayed in the ship, though at least, he always told Linar where he was going. Wise, considering his Joiner nature, and the Empire's common xenophobia.
Now, he was alone in his flat, cleaning, that was the only thing he thought of doing. He felt uncomfortable, not having a task to do.
There was a storage room. The last time Linar opened it was when he moved in. He didn't remember what was there exactly. So he opened it, and now most of the things there were laying in boxes, ready to be thrown out, but there was one thing he was not sure what to do with. A piano.
It was small and withered, and Linar was sure that if he'd touched it, something bad would happen. Now he was staring at it, unsure. The piano wasn't exactly his, but there was no one to give it to, and he couldn't bring himself to throw it out, like it was nothing.
He hadn't touched it for another hour. He threw out the junk and cleaned the rest of the flat, while the piano still stood there, and Linar couldn't help but look at it every time he was near, and when he was finished, he walked towards it and looked for a while.
He didn't know why, but he touched it. One key. It made a sound. It was out of tune, but it didn't matter. He touched another one. And another. And he played a song.
It was a slow tune, but a deep one too. Strong with emotions, sadness, soaked in a last bit of hope, fading with every note. Like stars, dead, but bright, and forever there, but always out of reach. And it was getting heavier, and heavier, and heavier. Painful, like a nasty headache. And by the end, Linar was holding his breath, not to disturb the sound. Broken, unclear, but still, what a sound! And what a feeling! Linar had forgotten that he could ever feel like that. And it brought back memories he didn't want to see, and then he thought he needed to destroy that instrument. And yet he hadn't moved, not an inch.
“Your song is sad," he heard behind him, and turned quickly, “What is it?” Vector asked, standing near the door.
“It's… just a song," Linar responded, trying to compose himself. Vector noticed it.
“Apologies," he said. “We did not meant, to cause you any distress—”
“You didn't. Nothing happened” Linar quickly shut him down, and walked to the kitchen. Vector followed.
Linar still couldn't quite get him. He got used to being able to read people fairly quickly, learn how they ‘work’. He didn't even need to try, it was natural for him, and yet Vector remained a mystery.
He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water. He drank it quickly, spilling a few drops onto himself.
“Are you alright, Agent?” Vector asked, with clear concern in his voice. In fact, he was concerned the moment he got to the flat. First, he knocked on the door, and got no response, but heard a noise, so he walked in anyway. And then he heard that song, strange, and sad. And he saw Linar playing the piano. He had no idea that he could play. Linar never said anything about it. And now he was acting strange.
“I am fine," Linar responded, though it was obvious he was lying. It shouldn't be obvious, he thought. He was an exceptional liar. “What are you doing here, Vector?”
“We came to see you. We were worried. You haven't left this place since we came to Ziost.”
“I like to be alone" Linar responded quickly, but Vector didn't believe him, neither did he say anything.
Silence surrounded them. Vector was looking straight at Linar. Linar was looking at Vector's shoes. A rare occasion, when he didn't know what to do, so he did nothing.
A few minutes had passed, when Vector walked away, Linar thought he was going to leave, but instead he walked to the piano. He touched it, and Linar once again heard a broken sound of the instrument. He walked towards it.
“It belonged to my mother," he said to Vector, “She taught me the song. I don't know the name of it”.
Vector looked at him. It was the first time Linar told him anything about himself. Something more than just his job.
“She has great taste," Vector said, looking at Linar.
“Yes," he heard as a response. But Linar wasn't looking at him, he was looking at the piano, “I want to throw it out."
Vector looked puzzled, “Why?”
“I don't need this. I don't have time for this," Linar answered. He had no idea if ‘this’ was the piano, or its meaning, but he couldn't allow himself any distraction. He had a purpose, and he could start to feel, after he achieved it.
“Vector," he said, after another moment of silence, “Go away."
Vector was confused, to say the least, but he complied. He saw Linar’s face and what he was trying to hide, but Vector saw right through him. The sadness, the anger, and the guilt. Vector didn't know much about Linar Frill, but at that moment he realised that under that stoic mask of indifference, there was a human. And he wanted to be alone.
After Vector left, Linar sat down in front of the piano for the next few hours. He didn't change his decision, but he was afraid to act. It was already dark when he finally stood up, took the instrument, carried it outside, and left it near the waste sheds.
He went back to his flat, took off his clothes, laid on his bed, and fell asleep.
He dreamed about a lively house, near a small lake.
