#xaja

Time was short, and Lana knew it. Casting a glance behind her, she strode up to the carbonite-frozen victim on Arcann's trophy wall, feeling the weight of a modified dart pistol in her hand. She trusted T7-01 to keep an eye on the corridor outside this chamber, but she was still anxious. If a Skytrooper patrol happened to come down here right now, or a Zakuulan officer, or (Force help her) Vaylin or Arcann themselves…

No. This will work. Any other outcome was not acceptable.

Lana tapped in a code on the side of the carbonite slab that was Xaja Taerich's frozen tomb and stood back. The data that Cipher Nine and Theron had found weighed heavily on her mind – the Zakuulans had botched the freezing process when they'd taken Xaja captive. Hopefully the Jedi was still alive in the carbonite.

“Don't try to move,” she said, her voice calm and soothing despite her concern, as the grey metal started to melt. If Xaja was alive and regaining consciousness, she would be disoriented and possibly on the verge of panic – perhaps Lana’s familiar voice would keep her calm. “You're dying.” She raised her hand with the dart pistol, taking aim like Theron had taught her. “I may have your cure,” she added as she got a glimpse of pale skin and red hair amidst the melting grey carbonite, “but I'm not going to lie – this will hurt.” She fired, and the dart of precious medicine shot into Xaja's newly-exposed shoulder.

The carbonite melted enough for the Jedi to fall to her hands and knees on the durasteel floor with a groan – she was clearly in pain, but she was alive and breathing! This rescue was off to a good start. Feeling a small, tense smile on her lips, Lana set down the pistol. “That wasn't quite so bad, was it?” she added, watching the smaller woman writhe through her pain.

Xaja raised her head at Lana's voice, green eyes (clouded with pain, but alert) honing in on the Sith. “Wha… who are you? Where are we?”

The smile fell from Lana's face. “You don't remember me? Blast it… you must be suffering carbonite freezing side effects.” Oh, this was a complication to her rescue effort. “What is the last thing that you remember? We're currently on Zakuul.”

“Za… what?” Xaja shook her head, then studied Lana as she unsteadily got back to her feet. “Your accent… you're a Sith…” She reached a hand for her belt, seeking the lightsabers currently on Lana's person as fear and anger made themselves visible in her eyes.

“I am,” Lana answered after a moment of hesitation, grateful that she held Xaja’s weapons herself. “But I am not your enemy, Xaja Taerich.”

Xaja's eyes narrowed. “How the hells do you know my name?”

“At one point, we were allies… dare I say friends, of a sort.” Lana felt herself paling. “Do you not remember anything? Rishi, Yavin Four, Manaan? The Revanites? Ziost?”

Shaking her head, Xaja straightened up, still holding a hand to her stomach as though she was nauseous. “Trust a Sith to tell lies,” she spat out. “I would never be friends or allies with one of you!”

Lana = telling truth, Teeseven beeped from the doorway. Republic + Empire = temporary truce on Yavin Four with Revanite crisis. Master Satele + Darth Marr = leaders.

“Teeseven!” Xaja sagged in relief. At least she recognised her astromech droid. “What's going on? Where's Master Orgus?”

She's asking for her master? The mentor who died a decade ago? Lana felt dread close in around her heart. How much of Xaja’s memory was gone? “He…”

The droid whistled sadly. Master Orgus = died years ago. Xaja = Jedi Master + Republic hero. Xaja =/= remember?

“... Master Orgus is dead?” Xaja, already pale in the dim light, went a shade more white. “That can't be… how did he die?”

Master Orgus = killed by Darth Angral. Xaja = destroyed Angral + saved Tython.

“Angral?” Xaja frowned, then looked sharply back at Lana. “Was he your master, Sith? Are you here for revenge?”

“I never met Darth Angral,” Lana truthfully answered. “I know you have a million questions, but we don't have time to restore your memory of the last decade. Do you still remember how to use these?” She reached for the back of her belt, unclipping Xaja's lightsabers and handing them over.

Xaja hesitated, looking at the weapons. “Those aren't mine…”

“You lost your first two weapons in Imperial captivity – which I had nothing to do with, and I'm trying to keep you safe from,” Lana answered. “These used to be your mother's before your father got them to you. Now come – I promised him that I would get you out of here, or die trying.” She sighed when Xaja continued to hesitate. “They aren't Sith lightsabers – the crystals are blue. Test them if you don't believe me.”

With hands that trembled, Xaja accepted the lightsabers, igniting one as she studied the hilt and cobalt-blue blade. “... They do feel right,” she finally admitted. “The crystals feel… familiar.” She deactivated the weapon and stashed both hilts on her belt. “Do you have a name? Teeseven called you Lana?”

“Lana Beniko,” the Sith answered with a nod. “I'll answer as many of your questions as I can, but we need to move before the alarm is raised. The man who held you prisoner here will not be pleased with your escape.” She started walking backwards toward the corridor door, keeping an eye on the wary Jedi.

Xaja finally seemed to decide that she had no better options besides trusting the Sith, and fell into step with Lana. Her footsteps felt uncertain, and she still looked pale and ill, but she was alive and physically as hale as one could hope for. “Where do we go from here?”

“I have a friend waiting with a shuttle to get us offworld,” Lana answered. “From there, we rendezvous with at least one of your brothers and figure out the next stage of our plan–”

Koth craned his neck to look up at the mistletoe and frowned. “Isn't it supposed to be in a doorway, instead of the middle of a room?”

Jonas groaned. “I spent long enough fighting to get it to stay up there without falling! Can't we break tradition just this once?”

“Nope. If we're doing a mistletoe set-up, we gotta do it right.” Koth jumped up on the desk chair and pried the thumbtack, with its precious burden of mistletoe, out of the ceiling. He paused and dubiously eyed the little pin. “... This will be a pain to stick into the doorframe.”

“Nothing some tape can't fix,” Lana said with a nod. She hurried down the hallway to her room, and returned a minute later with a roll of tape in her hands. “Just don't use all of it, mind.”

“You're the best.” Koth dragged the chair over to the entrance of the dorm lounge and clambered back onto the seat. “Am I centre-ish?”

Jonas stepped back and tilted his head. “Bit to the left… no, no, my left… smidge more… there, that's about as centred as you're gonna get. I'm too lazy to find a measuring tape to make sure.”

“Works for me!” Koth started taping up the mistletoe, making sure to leave most of it dangling in the doorway. “How's the rest of the decorating coming along, do you know?”

“Mako and Vette were working on what they say will be the most epic paper chain to grace a dorm floor,” Lana said. “And I think Kira and Xaja are in charge of paper snowflakes. A pity we have no space in here for a tree…”

“Or budget,” Jonas added. “Being that we're all broke college students.” He watched as Koth jumped back down from the chair, mistletoe in place, then grinned. “Shall we find covert watching positions so we can observe our handiwork?”

“Great, give them both performance anxiety,” Koth snorted. “They'll both appreciate that so much.”

Jonas snorted a laugh. “That's why I said covert, moron.” He sharply looked to the front door as he heard the sound of a keycard on the security panel. “Quick, that might be them!”

The trio scrambled for the shelter of the couches, and by unspoken agreement, all pretended to be intently interested in their phones. They could hear the sounds of two pairs of feet coming down the hallway, around the corner, and pausing at the entrance to the lounge…

“Oh, hell no,” Thexan's voice sounded. “Go ahead, Arcann, I insist.”

“Why do you insist I–?” There was a pause before Arcann groaned. “Ah. Yeah, there is no way in hell I'm kissing you, Thexan.”

Suppressing her disappointment that the intended targets weren't the ones who had arrived first, Lana looked up. “You know you two would have gotten a pass, right?” she asked. “Being literal brothers and all.”

“I dated a girl in high school who was really into a particular subset of the Supernatural fandom,” Thexan answered. “And I don't mean the Destiel shippers. I've had trust issues ever since I caught her quizzing Arcann on some very personal questions.”

“Ewww.” Jonas looked up from his phone. “Yeah, valid. Now shoo so we can wait for the actual targets.”

“You mean the two who were walking back from the cafeteria?” Thexan grinned. “You guys are not subtle at all about this. I mean, waiting for them?”

“Subtlety isn't working!” Koth complained. “We gotta go for the obvious now.”

“I still say we should lock them in a closet,” Arcann commented as he dropped his book bag by Jonas’ couch. “Or set up a blind date for each of them.”

“If they haven't figured it out by spring break, we'll try the closet,” Lana promised. “By then there should be enough sexual tension pent up…”

“What are we talking about with sexual tension?” A horned head poked itself into the lounge, a huge grin on its face.

“I thought I told you to fuck out of here and not come back again last week, Gault!” Lana snapped, amber eyes flashing angrily.

“I'm an invited guest!” Gault protested. “Hylo said I could come in!”

“Not if you two are going to lock me out of my room for three hours while you have sex and then have a blow-up fight!”

“That was one little argument–”

“At one in the morning, that woke both me and Torian up,” Koth interjected, scowling.

“So the timing wasn't ideal,” Gault said with a shrug. “Sorry for disturbing your beauty sleep.” He glanced upward and grinned. “Awww, but you lot can't be that hard-up about it! Look what's on the ceiling!”

“Not for you,” Jonas interrupted. “It's a trap for Theron and Xaja!”

“We’ll break it in for them!” Gault cheerily grinned, then darted through the lounge to Hylo and Lana's room, pounding on her door.

Lana sighed in frustration, jaw visibly clenched. “If he turns up dead one day, I had nothing to do with it,” she growled.

“We'll help with the alibi,” Koth nodded, watching as Hylo emerged from the room with her brow wrinkled. The frown turned into a grin from the Mirialan as she followed Gault under the mistletoe; the Devaronian took the opportunity to dip Hylo for a passionate kiss.

“Get a room!” Jonas hollered over when the kissing didn't seem to abate after a few seconds.

“And not mine!” Lana added indignantly. “Again!” She looked over at Jonas. “I'm much more sympathetic toward Theron now…”

“I don't lock him out that often!” Jonas protested. “And the one time I did led to him meeting his soulmate, so…”

Gault finally straightened up from the kiss and let Hylo up to catch her breath. “See? We're wingmaning for you, Lana–” His eyes suddenly went wide, and he booked it for the safety of the front door, fleeing Lana's wrath as the blonde started to get to her feet.

Hylo watched her boyfriend escape, then shrugged at Lana. “He's not wrong?” she said with a little chuckle. “It's just his way of helping – and look at that, I need to be in the library right now!” She fled after Gault, with a bit of a laugh, as Lana snarled something entirely unprintable at her back.

“... The library?” Thexan asked as the door slammed shut behind the couple. “She hasn't set foot in the library since term started!”

“You'd know, considering you live there,” Arcann commented.

“Very funny,” Thexan muttered, then looked over as the front door opened and closed again. “Is that finally them?”

“Get over here in case it is!” Koth hissed. “Act natural!”

“Gawking is natural, for having just watched Hylo and Gault apparently make back up,” Arcann commented with a grin. Still, he sat down on the arm of Jonas' couch, as Thexan hurried over to flop beside Koth. Still grumbling, Lana sat back down and scowled at her phone like it was responsible for her roommate woes.

And not a second too soon – Theron Shan was the next person to poke his head into the lounge, not realizing he was directly under the mistletoe trap. “Well, don't we look conspiratal,” he commented, looking at the cluster of students on the couches. “We planning evil things here?”

“Just concerning my roommate and the douchebag she's dating,” Lana grumbled. “Do you know of a good place to dump a body?”

“Xaja says she watches true crime shows,” Theron suggested, as the aforementioned redhead popped up beside him. “You got an idea for a good place to dispose of Gault or Hylo?”

“I owe Hylo one for that troubleshooting with my car the other week, so I can't help murder her,” Xaja said. “Gault, on the other hand, I can definitely help dispose of.” She paused, frowning at the widening grins being sent at her and Theron. “... What? Do I have something in my teeth?”

“Theron could help with that, if you do,” Jonas innocently suggested.

Theron promptly sputtered in mortified indignation. “I – what?!”

“Look up,” Thexan said with a smirk.

Both Theron and Xaja glanced upward – a second later, Xaja squeaked, her cheeks going as red as her hair. “Is that… which one of you assholes hung up mistletoe?!” Beside her, Theron seemed to be at a loss for words, eyes wide and mouth dropped open.

“Doesn't matter,” Koth said, grinning impishly. “To quote from the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie – just kiss!”

“It needs to be cleansed after watching Hylo and Gault make out under it,” Lana added in a mutter.

“But– we're not–!” Xaja yelped. “Hylo and Gault are at least a thing! Theron and I aren't!”

“Being a ‘thing’ isn't part of the mistletoe rules,” Arcann retorted, laughing. “Or are you two chicken?”

“We aren't chicken!” Theron piped up, indignant despite the flush to his cheeks. “We just… uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “... Which one of you assholes had this idea?”

“Does that matter?” Jonas all but cackled. “Kiss her already!”

Theron softly groaned, then turned to look at Xaja, who seemed to have become very focused on a random spot on his hoodie shoulder. “Erm… listen, I'm sorry about this…” he started to say.

“No, uh, it's… it's okay. It's definitely not your doing.” Xaja looked up from her visual examination of his hoodie, still bright red. She hesitated, then glared in the direction of the couches and the pair's eagerly-watching audience. “Do you fuckers have to sit there and watch like that?”

“What, do you have performance issues?” Jonas grinned evilly. “I'm reasonably sure Theron won't care about that–”

“Forget Gault – I'm murdering you,” Xaja growled. She looked back up at Theron. “You can look forward to a single room next semester.”

“Works for me,” Theron agreed, giving Jonas a malevolent glare. He shifted awkwardly, then quickly stooped to give Xaja a brief peck on the lips, seemingly before he could lose his nerve.

“Awww, come on!” Koth complained. “That barely counted as a kiss!”

“If you dumbasses weren't fucking staring at us…” Theron snapped.

Koth sighed dramatically. “Fine, if we all look away, are you two actually gonna kiss properly?”

“You know,” Jonas commented, “if you're the one with the performance issues, Theron, I'm sure Xaja will be happy to help you out with–”

“I will kill you dead, Balkar.” Theron glared at his roommate and former best friend, then caught Xaja in his arms and stooped to give her a dramatic, lingering kiss. She squeaked as she was pulled into his embrace, then seemed to wrap her arms around his neck and return the kiss, apparently trying very hard to ignore the whistles and chorus of “Awwww"s from their dormmates.

They finally came apart after a few seconds, seemingly trying to regain both breath and coherent thought before Xaja looked over at their audience. “Happy now?” she growled, more than a little bit of bite in her tone.

“Immensely,” Lana answered with a little laugh. “Now shoo so we can wait for our next victims. If that pre-med student Archiban comes in here next with this week's girlfriend…”

“We hate you all,” Theron announced, as he and Xaja tried to make their way to their respective rooms with as much dignity as they could muster. “Sleep with one eye open until the end of term.”

Jonas laughed, then as the pair vanished into their rooms, sobered up slightly. “I'm gonna die, but this was totally worth it.” He looked over at Arcann and Thexan. “Hey guys, can I crash with you for the rest of week so Theron doesn't kill me in my sleep?”

“As long as you're prepared to deal with Arcann's snoring,” Thexan said with a grin. He paused, looking at the mistletoe contemplatively. “... Did we overdo it?”

“Nah.” Koth laughed and stood up. “Someone got a picture of that, right? Kira will be so pissed that she missed it.”