The Genesis Saga Chapter 211

To Jyn’s surprise, the firepit was already occupied by Adrian and Reya. The pair were in the process of coaxing a small fla into sothing more. Jyn found the sight oddly symbolic of the two for but a fleeting mont before approaching.

Both Reya and Adrian looked towards Jyn at the sa ti. Neither one of them seed surprised by his sudden arrival. It was as though they’d been expecting him. For a mont, nobody spoke. Jyn took advantage of the silence to sit down in one of the empty chairs around the firepit.

Adrian was the first to break the silence. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, looking Jyn directly in the eyes. “You saved once again from gru’ul experintation and brought back to Reya.” Adrian gave Jyn a long, searching look.

Jyn didn’t know what Adrian saw, but he did notice the deep sadness that surfaced in his silver eyes. “You’re welco,” Jyn said simply. A hatred hotter than the growing fire smoldered deep within his chest when he thought about the cost he’d paid to save Adrian. It was the most prominent emotion he’d felt since leaving the ship. Jyn knew that if it hadn’t been for Adrian, he would’ve never suffered so.

“And I’m sorry,” Adrian continued. “You were exposed to the orange chemical because of . Countless others were as well, from what I’ve heard. Many more died so that I could return ho back to peace and happiness. That wasn’t fair to you or to them.”

Silent tears welled in Jyn’s eyes. “It’s your fault,” he accused harshly, passing his judgent. Adrian hung his head low in sha, but the sight wasn’t enough for Jyn. “Everything that’s happened was your fault. The secrets. The war. The countless deaths of my people,” he said. “Their suffering and loss. Their pain,” he continued. “My pain,” he finished hoarsely. “I could’ve avoided it. If only it weren’t for you.”

Adrian had nothing to say to that, for he knew it to be true. Just as the deaths of his fellow test subjects back on Earth had been his fault, so too were the deaths of the countless naless others that had died to the gru’ul. If only he had died at the facility, everybody else could have lived. The thought weighed terribly on Adrian, and he knew it forever would. He’d robbed entire generations of their future.

All because he’d been a success. The only true success.

Adrian tried to speak, but no words ca out. He had nothing he could say that would relieve Jyn of his experience. Of his pain. The two n remained, eyes locked, while Reya finished with the fire. She sat down in one of the chairs and regarded the pair carefully. “That’s enough of that for now,” she said. “Have a seat and then we can talk more.” The sun was setting and it would soon be dark. A chill from the cool mountain air had slowly made itself known since she and Adrian had been outside and the closer they all were to the fire, the better they’d be able to truly speak to one another.

Adrian imdiately obliged, glad for the small reprieve from Jyn’s uncomfortable accusations. Jyn hesitated but ultimately obliged and sat across from Reya and Adrian, though close enough that they could easily continue their conversation. Reya nodded in satisfaction once everybody was as comfortable as they were going to get. She knew it would be a difficult conversation and had prepared a few drinks. She reached into the cooler behind her chair and offered a small blue bottle to Adrian, who gladly accepted it. When she offered one to Jyn, she saw the doubt in his eyes.

“It’s not going to help,” Reya openly admitted, “but it will bury the mory of it, if only for a little while.” Jyn accepted and she reached back into the cooler and got herself a drink. “We’ve each got two. That’s all you’re getting tonight.” Originally, there was ant to be three each for both her and Adrian, but with Jyn’s arrival, she figured Adrian wouldn’t mind sharing. The others might’ve be against the alcohol had they known Jyn was going to have any, but Reya knew they would never understand.

Not truly.

Jyn popped off the lid and imdiately kicked back the drink. Reya and Adrian slowly sipped theirs and waited patiently for Jyn to finish. It was only his bottle was over half-way empty that Jyn stopped. “Will it really help?” he asked morosely while staring at the bottle. “Or is it just another lie like everything else?”

Adrian and Reya shared a look. “No,” Reya repeated. “Not for long. You don’t have enough to truly feel anything unless you down both of them right now.”

Jyn didn’t bother raising his gaze, his eyes still trained on the bottle in his hands. Without another word, he silently chugged the rest of his drink. Once it was empty, he place his bottle on the grass and motioned for Reya to pass him his second drink. Reya obliged, knowing full-well that that was all he was going to get from them for the evening. Given that Jyn had just truly snapped out of the after-effects of the orange chemical, she wasn’t comfortable giving him more even had she had the option.

Again, Reya and Adrian silently waited for Jyn to finish with his drink. They didn’t mind. They could talk once Jyn was done trying to escape his mories. Eventually, Jyn finished. He finally looked towards Reya, his eyes pleading for more, but Reya simply shook her head. “Even if you think it will, it won’t truly help. There’s no point in having more right now.”

“That’s not fair,” Jyn said bitterly. “You got to drink by the fire. Why can’t I have more?”

“We were near Kell and had everybody watching over us should anything happen,” Reya responded. “Not only that, but I’d been lucid longer than you by that point. I don’t want this to beco a crutch.”

“Fine,” Jyn spat. He could feel his cheeks warming as the alcohol did its work and opted to sit in silence for a few minutes just relishing in a feeling other than that all-consuming pain from the chemical. It was only once his cheeks numbed sowhat that he felt ready to speak. “I saw the video,” he said softly, staring at Adrian. “But not even that was enough to prepare for it.”

“Nothing could ever prepare you for it,” Adrian replied. “Not for that.”

“Why would the gru’ul ever conceive sothing so vile?” Jyn asked, his voice quavering. He just didn’t understand what any being would purposefully want to inflict such pain upon another. The gru’ul were monsters to him in a way nothing had ever been before. Not even during his combat missions after they invaded Verilia did he truly feel so strongly about his newfound hatred. Not even after seeing the destruction, bodies and mutilation of his people. Sure, he’d been angry and hated the gru’ul at the ti. But never in the way he experienced at that mont. It was a hatred unlike any other.

“Because they were afraid,” Adrian said. “My people aren’t as advanced as the a’vaare, so there was nothing to fear. But your people? You were closing the gap and the smaller that beca, the harder it would be to continue their experints. After they forced the purple chemical upon , I lost any hint of defiance I had. I was the perfect puppet for their cruel desires. I imagine they thought a less lethal alternative would work just as well against your faction.”

Jyn furrowed his brows. “What do you an by less lethal? I’ve seen the bodies of people exposed to the orange chemical. Their faces displayed pure agony and their bodies were contorted in ways that made no sense.”

Adrian nodded. “The orange chemical was their refined version of the purple one. When they used the purple one on , I died. I know this, deep in my bones.”

“Then how are you still here, speaking with if they killed you?” Jyn asked, still confused.

“Because they brought back,” Adrian said bitterly. “The gru’ul controlled my life and even my death. I wasn’t allowed to die. Whatever they had in that facility let them reanimate , ti and again. I don’t even rember how many tis they killed . And I couldn’t tell you if they did so by accident or on purpose after they used the purple chemical on .”

Jyn blinked. “That’s fucked,” he said, still not fully believing Adrian’s claims. His cheeks numbed further and he could tell that the alcohol was affecting him more. It was the extra safety net between him and his mories that he hadn’t realized he’d needed. His eyes flicked towards the bottle in Adrian’s hand and Jyn knew he needed more.

“I’m pretty sure I was their first test subject for the orange chemical,” Reya said, speaking up. “We don’t have any way of knowing just how concentrated the dose used on was at the ti.” She thought for a mont. “Or on you, for that matter.”

“Does the dose even matter?” Jyn asked. “Even a single iota of that evil thing is too much.” He shuddered involuntarily. The growing haze of alcohol still wasn’t enough. He would have to change that at one point. Just to see if it truly helped the way he thought it would.

“We know,” Reya said heavily, changing the atmosphere in the blink of an eye. The air around the campfire transford from uncomfortable to somber. The tone of her voice stole Jyn’s attention imdiately, bringing him out of his thoughts and back to the present. “The others never truly will, but we do,” she continued. “What the three of us endured fundantally changed us deep in our souls. It’s not sothing we will ever recover from.”

Jyn went quiet as he mulled over what she’d said. “I already know that,” he said sadly once he was ready to speak again. “It will haunt for the rest of my life and there’s no running from it because it’s who I am now.” He let out a short, broken laugh. “There’s no running from yourself, no matter how hard you try.” He looked back up towards Reya. “Does it ever get better?” he asked, clinging to a hope he already knew was false.

“No,” Reya said, shaking her head. “It doesn’t. The best you can do is distract yourself and co to terms with what happened.”

Tears welled in Jyn’s eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” he asked, his teardrops spilling over and rolling down his cheeks. Reya and Adrian made no comnt and passed no judgent. They’d both been there and knew Jyn needed the release. He also needed to hear the truth of what was to co. “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“You don’t have to,” Adrian said softly. “We chose to distract ourselves with music. If no word in any language can properly express how we feel, then you use sothing that can. It’s why it beca so important to and Reya once we received the replica instrunts. Music cos from the soul.”

There was a ti where Jyn would have scoffed at such an absurd claim. Music had no purpose. It didn’t build bridges or ships. It didn’t grow food or tend the fields, nor did it provide any inherent value. But Adrian’s words struck a different chord within Jyn this ti when he heard them. Reya’s haunting lody and Adrian’s many tunes had made him feel sothing when they first played them for the group. “Could you show ?” he asked reluctantly, afraid he would be ridiculed for even considering it.

Adrian nodded. “Yes,” he said. “How about we take a look together tomorrow? We’ll have all day to explore the instrunts and try them out.” Inwardly, Adrian was quite pleased. Learning an instrunt had been incredibly therapeutic for Reya and he hoped he could offer the sa relief to Jyn. It would be sothing the three of them could work on together. A safe space where they could freely express themselves in ways that language failed them. He didn’t expect Jyn to take to it the way Reya did, but he knew it would help, even if only slightly.

Sotis that was all that was needed to get through the day.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Reya exclaid, ecstatic over the possibility of having another one of her friends take an interest in her work. “There’s so much to do and learn. I learned how to play a bass, and if you learn an instrunt we could all play songs together!”

Jyn was taken aback by the sudden proposal and change in the couple’s countenance. Their excitent was infectious and Jyn couldn’t help but flash a small smile. Perhaps if the two of them could express such joy, he could learn to do so again as well. He didn’t know if he would like it, but he figured it was worth a shot. “Tomorrow it is,” he said. “I have nothing else to do, so why not spend so ti seeing why you’re both always so excited about this.”

Reya deflated, her enthusiasm dwindling at the reminder of Jyn’s new status. “We heard you were discharged,” she said, trying to carefully broach the topic. “General Nessah did the sa to . I didn’t believe her at the ti, but it truly was for the best.”

“I worked hard to earn my rank as a Captain,” Jyn said. “And now it’s been taken away from under the excuse that it will be for my own good.” He was still sour about the Tribunal’s decision to terminate his career when he’d more than proven himself, especially in the recent months. He never thought a single injury would be the end of his life’s work.

“I felt the sa way at first,” Reya said empathetically. “It sucks, I know. But you’ll realize one day that they were right. I don’t want to ever be near the gru’ul again where experiencing the orange chemical is a real possibility.” She reflected on Verilia’s state for a mont. “Not that anywhere is truly safe anymore,” she added.

A violent tremor passed through Jyn at the thought of being exposed to the orange chemical again. “What if they find us here?” he asked. Suddenly, the very real threat of enduring it again ca crashing down on him. Reya’s words echoed in his head. Nowhere was safe. Not even the main base. “What if it happens again?” Jyn whispered, his voice stripped of all emotion save a primal, naked fear. “I can’t,” he said, quivering despite the fire’s warmth. “I can’t go through that again,” he said. “Not again. Never again.”

Jyn’s wild eyes t Reya’s calm stare and her heart broke. Though she was still upset at him for having mistreated Adrian for so long, not once had she wished the orange chemical on him. The past petty squabbles and posturing no longer mattered. Both she and Adrian were intimately familiar with Jyn’s fear for they shared it as well. It kept them up at night and haunted their dreams. Not even their thoughts were a refuge that granted peace.

“Then let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Reya replied softly. “We’re hidden here. It will be hard for the gru’ul to find us in such a remote location.”

“They found Adrian underground,” Jyn retorted. “They could just as easily find him here.”

“Maybe they could,” Adrian said, “but even if they know where I am, I do not believe they truly need anymore.” For yet a third ti, he’d been turned into a living experint, his life once again in the hands of another. “On Earth, they prid . In the facility, they remade . This ti, they took from .” He gave Jyn a level stare. “They wanted samples to study. They may have injected with more dubious substances, but they no longer wanted to turn into sothing different. No,” he said softly, “this ti they wanted to replicate their proof of concept. After all they did to , I don’t believe I’m truly necessary to their plans anymore.”

“You don’t know that,” Jyn said hoarsely.

“Call it an educated guess,” Adrian said dismissively. “I know everything they did to . On the gru’ul’s ho world, they experinted on other gru’ul ­—­ sothing I’ve never seen them do before.”

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” Jyn said.

“It doesn’t” Adrian acknowledged. “Maybe I’m wrong. I just have to trust that the others will keep safe this ti.”

The constant fear slowly took its toll on Jyn. He tired of the pointless guessing. If the gru’ul found them, Jyn would have no weapon nor armour. He would be helpless. Just the thought was enough to send him spiraling, but the haze from the alcohol muddied the intrusive thoughts. Before things could get worse, Jyn decided to call it a night. “I need so ti to myself,” he announced.

When neither Adrian nor Reya made any move to keep him trapped in the conversation, Jyn simply stood up and ambled back towards the house. It wasn’t long before he disappeared, the soft click of the back door shutting the only indication he’d ever been outside to begin with.

It was only once Adrian heard the mumblings between Jyn and Kell followed by quiet footsteps ascending to the second floor that he spoke. “I hoped this day would never co,” he said. “Jyn doesn’t deserve what happened to him.” He shook his head. “Not this. Never this.”

“I know,” Reya said. She stared into the fire, hoping to find answers as to how to help her old teammate, but they eluded her, despite her best efforts. “I just hope he finds peace one day.”

They lapsed into silence once more, both of them lost in the past. But unlike before, they were no longer alone. As one, they turned towards each other and locked gazes, each one seeing the deep, hidden pain behind the other’s eyes. They were both broken people and broken they would remain until the end of their days. But behind the pain was an acceptance of who the other was and a love for the person they saw now and not who they’d once been. It was more than they’d ever hoped for and for them, that was enough. Words weren’t needed between the two of them.

Not anymore.