trans_9 | [ >( ] (open to anyone who wants to visit)

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[ >( ] (open to anyone who wants to visit)

[ooc: BENDYTIME, ACTIVATE! Anytime after the crew has returned to the ship.]

When the medics finally woke Steve up from his healing trance, he was not in the best of moods.

For one thing, the trance had left him feeling much, much better than before-- but had not done much for the virus. A good supply of bandages were able to conceal many of the external signs, but he couldn't very well wrap them around the green marks on his face, his fingers or both of his eyes. His levels were stable but until the virus had gone back into remission, he was stuck in quarantine.

For another, there was no news as far as what had caused GLaDOS to go off on him. No clues as to who found out about him, no sign of who might have done it-- just the knowledge that someone on this crew, who he was supposed to trust, was capable of attacking him like that and there was little to be done about it right now.

And of course, someone had to inform him that Zokez II had been nearly annihilated by the Ohm. The beautiful beaches, resorts and cities-- the places where he spent a happy week relaxing, feeling normal, and spending time with Miku-- were gone, destroyed, the people fled and with no hope of rebuilding. His week had been cut short anyway, but now it felt like the whole thing had been ripped away from him. Even the happy moments he had here on this ship were fleeting-- in the end, everything was now just a memory, stuck in the past and never to come again.

And furthermore, he'd slept through it. The first encounter with the Ohm, the stupid aliens who were the whole reason he was awake on this goddamned ship in the first place, and Steve was too busy sleeping off a virus outbreak that nearly stole his mind from him to help out.

"A mistake" indeed.

Steve was not in any kind of mood at all as he sat on the floor and leaned against the bubble, staring at the ceiling. His silhouette was visible through the dimmed bubble.

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Luke was tired, so tired that it was taking constant drawing on the Force to even be able to remain standing, but after he'd gotten back up to Stacy, he'd made it his goal to make sure all the Jedi were on board and safe, and that his family (adoptees included) was all right as well before allowing himself sleep. Mara would probably hound him for it, but she knew as well as anyone that it was in his nature to do something like this, and would hopefully only get after him if he attempted to get up before she thought he'd rested enough afterward.

But Steve was one of the more important people Luke wanted to see on this little bed check. As exhausted, banged and blown-through as he was, Luke's heart still twisted to see the teen who was like a son to him in his present condition.

"Hey, Steve," he called, putting a hand against the outside of the enclosure they kept him in, like he was dangerous or untrustworthy. "How are you?"

At least Steve had the freedom to control how dark the bubble looked from the outside-- hearing Luke's voice, he looked up over his shoulder and cued it to thin, making the membrane transparent so he could be seen. Not like Luke hadn't already seen him at his worst.

"Me?" he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned away again. "I'm great. Just peachy."

"Between you and me, I think we could take on some galactic beauty pageants now. We might even win," Luke said dryly. "Because I feel about like you look."

He hadn't let anyone treat the various scrapes, cuts, and bruises he'd gotten yet. Not out of any sort of martyrdom; Luke Skywalker did not fancy himself a martyr and never would. But there were, to Luke, much more important things to do with his time than sit.

"Did the trance help?"

Steve reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, though it slumped right back down over them again. Kid could probably use a haircut soon-- though that was the least of his worries right now.

"It helped. But not enough," he answered. "Now I get to rot in here until I look normal enough that nobody shoots me in the face if they see me."

"Honestly, I wouldn't want to go wandering around in public after that myself. Not because of appearances and uncomfortable stares," Luke continued, holding up a finger to stall any potential fit of teenage angst, "Though those wouldn't help any."

He leaned against the bubble. His legs were trembling a bit, and he needed a support. "What you went through--what you did to get yourself back--that was intensely personal and would leave anyone feeling like they'd been dragged out back of a speeder along the Dune Sea, and I wouldn't want to have to face too many right away with that kind of thing fresh on my mind."

Nice save, Luke.

Unfortunately, the angst was flowing in droves anyway. "I might as well get used to it. I could be stuck in here for the rest of my life at this rate."

Then he glared hard enough to bore a hole in the floor. "Why the hell would I want to face people anyway? I was stupid to let my guard down around here in the first place."

"You had no reason to be otherwise," Luke reasoned. "You couldn't know that someone--" someone who was going to have an irate, parental Skywalker to answer to when they were found "--had ordered that rogue AI to do what it did."

Luke sighed. "And I highly doubt you'll be stuck in here past when that shiny new appendage disappears, or is removed, or whatever's going to happen to it. Stars, Steve, I would stay in here if I had one of those poking out of me. And I'm... what do you call it? Zen?"

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