#teff'ith

[cipherix-art]

ookay so whilst i still try and process like . everythjing in Maul Shadow Lord ITS MAY 4th YAY!!!!!!!!!!!! so as a very self indulgent thing i drew them :3

[blueburds-but-swtor]

wait i think i'm onto something hear me out

[cipherixx]

THEM!!!!!!!

[understorysunflecks]

The Trouble with Underworld Contacts is that They Pop Up When You Least Expect

Rating: Gen.

Characters: Theron Shan, Teff'ith.

Word Count: 2,435

Summary: After the fall of the Order of Zildrog on Nathema, Theron finds himself, against all odds, alive and back in the Alliance's fold once more. His desperate success and much-needed relief doesn't make the gradual healing any easier. A familiar face breaks up the monotony.

~

Laying on a slab in the windowless medbay, the room lit mostly by the dials on the wall-to-wall equipment and the glowing blue of the kolto, Theron passes the time staring at the blank gray ceiling, mulling over whether he’s ever felt his bloodstream so carbonated. Sure, he’s spent a week in and out of a tank for broken bones, lacerations, blaster burns, internal bleeding—just run-of-the-mill wounds practically a guarantee for the average spy. A lightsaber through his abdomen apparently requires more intensive sessions—like ‘sedated and left to soak for three days straight after emergency surgery’ kind of intensive. Though no longer in critical condition, he’s still stuck with the intermittent kolto baths. He’s opted to just go shirtless; quicker when all he has to remove are pants and the bandages.

The wound itself has healed slower than he wants, but his team of doctors and medical droids insist that he’s healing well and that he’ll avoid complications arising from the melted organs. That's still weird to think about. The lingering ache can be pushed to the back of his mind with painkillers, but the itching is hard to ignore when there’s little else to occupy his thoughts.

The tank itself bubbles quietly off to his left even without an occupant. Theron’s still not permitted far from the bed they’ve set up for him here, between the healing baths and the necessity of a sterile environment to recover from the organ transplant, a combination of flesh and cybernetics that Doctor Oggurobb was a little too excited to reveal to him.

He appreciates the consideration of the setup, he does. But he’s spent the last few months sleeping in his shuttle, occasionally surrounded by a group of highly suspicious enemies, pursued by the friends he tricked everyone into believing he was betraying. Not to mention the relentless guilt and ever-present anxiety dogging his every thought.

Needless to say, he’s gotten less sleep than usual, and a foam-covered slab attached to the wall of an otherwise open room with only a paper-thin sheet to cover up with is just depressing when he knows his bed, something he’s actually grown quite fond of over the past few years, is less than a few hundred meters away.

Warm. Comfortable. Not to mention private. Stars, what he wouldn’t give for a single night curled up in his own room under a blanket or three.

He sighs, his head thumping back on his pillow as he reminds himself that it’s all worth it—the danger, the pain, the longing for his own space. The threat has passed, and he’s back in the fold, even if he suspects he has a long way to go to actually make it all up. The Commander’s safe, the Alliance is safe, and that’s… he still feels a tremor take over when he thinks about what Atrius and Gemini 16 might’ve been able to do. What he… what he might’ve lost.

He can handle a few more days with his medical droid chaperon and the occasional visitor to keep him from truly climbing the walls.

He can.

A small groan escapes Theron as he tries to relax, shifting his stiff shoulders and flexing his fingers; he resists the urge to pull his datapad out of the bag stashed on the little table to his right. It’s not like he could actually do anything with it; his access to Alliance systems is still restricted. He has a sneaking suspicion the thing’s signal has been blocked as well. There’s ways around both these things, which could theoretically help him occupy himself, but he’s trying to rebuild trust here. Lana mentioned the restriction was only to keep his focus on healing and to prevent him from trying to play catch-up on work, but… he can’t really blame them if it’s more than that, can he? And he certainly doesn’t want to make anyone rethink welcoming him back just because he can’t meditate through his restlessness anymore.

There’s a hiss as the door to the medbay entrance slides open, though he can’t see it from his little room, even though his "door" is just an open archway. Theron quiets a flutter of nerves, hoping it’s just Lana showing up a bit early to continue where their last “Why didn’t you tell me?” conversation left off. That he can take, but… well, he’s not ready to face the rest of the Alliance yet, selfish as the thought might be.

He's pretty certain he's actually getting that black eye next time he sees Hylo.

A single set of footsteps echoes off the walls, and then there’s a voice—feminine, though he can’t make out more than that—followed by a response from the medical droid. A machine beeps, and a scanner whirs to life. His guest must be at the sanitizing station, his assumption confirmed when he hears water run, then the air dryer kick to life thirty seconds later. The footsteps grow louder, approaching the open doorway that leads to the little room he’s resting in.

The woman who enters isn’t Lana as he expects, but rather a Twi’lek, brown eyes set beneath penciled eyebrows, solid yellow lekku trailing down her back. Even with the mask obscuring the lower half of her face, he has no trouble recognizing her. She stops in the doorway as she catches sight of him, narrowing her eyes.

“Teff’ith,” Theron says, though even to his own ears, it sounds more like a surprised observation than a hello.

“When we warned you about Order,” Teff’ith begins by way of greeting, “that wasn’t suggestion to get killed.”

He supposes he should’ve expected as much—he hasn’t exactly touched base with her since running off with the tip she brought him. “Yeah. Things went a little sideways.”

“Hmmph,” Teff’ith grunts, and she approaches his bed, taking position at the foot of it and flicking her eyes up and down, clearly not pleased by what she sees. “You look bad.”

“Feels that way,” Theron admits, then lets his curiosity get the better of him. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Sith friend been in contact. Wanted us to help hunt you down. Told her we knew nothing.”

A bit of warmth seeps into him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Rather than accept his appreciation, Teff’ith stiffens further. “Course we did. Someone had to cover your tracks.”

“To be fair, the plan was to have them follow me,” Theron points out, and he knows it’s the wrong thing to say even before her eyes inflame. “Look, you’ve got every right to be mad. I know I put you in a tough spot, and I—”

“We used to you making crazy plans, but those times, you have a plan,” Teff’ith interrupts, crossing her arms. “Why you run after Horizon Guard with no friends? Is that not point of making Alliance?”

A wave of exhaustion washes over him, and he rubs the back of his neck. He knows he doesn't have the right to complain, but he's tired of having this same conversation.

“You were the one who gave me that holorecording of an Alliance meeting they shouldn’t have had access to,” Theron counters, ignoring her eye roll. “I couldn’t stop them from listening in, so I had to keep everyone in the dark.”

Of course, that’s only half the truth, conveniently leaving out the days of relentless panic, stress sending him half out of his mind the longer he went unable to even pinpoint how they were watching. Terror that no amount of mental fortitude could quiet at the thought that he was already too late.

In hindsight, he can admit some of his more questionable actions were fueled by little more than panic.

“Stupid,” Teff’ith is saying, a sneer twisting her expression. “So what if they know you onto them? You smart enough to work around it.”

“Not if they could anticipate our every move.”

“So you tell Commander it happening. Then you do your own thing. Quiet. Where they can't see.” Teff’ith shakes her head. “But you don’t make Alliance your enemy, then run into real enemy’s arms. Too risky. Way too risky.”

He shifts on the bed. “Well, it worked out.”

“Only because Commander forgave you.” At Theron’s silence, Teff’ith uncrosses one arm to motion at his still-bandaged torso. “You almost died. We see that. What if Commander not accept explanation? Who bring you to medbay? Who pull you out?”

Theron can’t meet her eyes, his gaze on his right hand, fiddling with the sheet resting over his legs, keeping Teff’ith solely in his periphery. "It worked out, Teff’ith.”

“Stupid,” she snarls, pacing back and forth at the end of the bed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why you throw life away like that? What wrong with you?”

Nervous energy, spindly and electric, pulses to his fingertips, and he drops the corner of the sheet, flicking it from his grip so that it lays flat on the mattress again. “Look, I admit it wasn’t my best idea, alright?”

“Not best idea?” Teff’ith throws her hands in the air. “Not idea at all!”

“I get it. You’ve made your point,” Theron says flatly. “I’m aware of how reckless it was. It didn’t feel like I had much choice. Telling the Alliance risked everything.”

Teff’ith draws herself up, and she makes several aborted attempts to speak. After a moment, she seems to give up; she massages her temples, pacing back and forth in front of the bed with more and more frantic energy. He thinks about interrupting her, and he thinks better of it. A frustrated noise erupts from her as she whirls on him once more.

“Forget Alliance. Why not tell us?” she snaps, shoving a pointed finger at her chest with her eyes wide, and Theron is alarmed by the tremor that’s taken over her—slight, but visible. “We pull you out. Like last time. Why not let us?”

“Did you miss the part where I couldn’t tell anyone because they were watching? Pretty sure I said it twice.”

“Cult didn’t see us give you recording. Didn’t find us after we stole it off their drunk idiot.”

Theron massages the bridge of his nose. “We don’t know that.”

“They mention us, then?” Teff’ith demands, motioning to herself. “When you joined?”

“No—not exactly, but I didn’t bring you up, either, so it’s hard to say—”

“They knew everything you did? Every message you sent?”

Theron huffs, the tail-end a little shakier than he anticipated. “No, I managed to keep a few things from them.”

“So why not tell us? Call us in where they can’t see?”

“My plan was to rejoin the Commander and the rest of the Alliance, so I didn’t need—”

“We know big plan was to rely on forgiveness. Smarter plan was to call us,” Teff’ith insists. “Even if you hid truth, we don’t care if you betray Alliance. Should’ve brought us for safety.”

“I didn’t think—”

“That much clear to us,” she says, adding a little shake to her head as if to ensure he understood she was mocking him.

“Oh, don’t be so—” He cuts himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. It was hectic, alright? I had to move fast because I was already so far behind.” Teff’ith makes as if to speak, and he plows over her. “Not to mention that association with me would cause problems for you.”

“With Alliance?”

“Yeah.”

“No worse than Sith Empire.”

“That—those times were different.”

“Why? No friends in Empire?” When he doesn’t answer, Teff’ith scoffs. “Afraid we kill your Commander?”

“I… admit I didn’t want a confrontation,” Theron says, then rushes to continue when Teff’ith moves to speak, “and even if I’d told you the truth, it was inevitable. If I got killed pulling my shots, that’s one thing. I couldn’t ask you to take the same risk, and I didn’t want to see anyone hurt.”

“Except you?”

“I—” His bristling causes his wound to flare up for a moment, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “I didn’t want to get hurt, I—”

“Just think it best if you only one who does?”

“Well, yes—no. I don’t know.” Theron groans, massaging the space between his eyes with his thumb. “You make it sound worse than it is.”

Teff’ith’s chuckle is dark, her gaze on the kolto tank he’s spent most of the last two weeks in, and when she finally looks back at him, she points an accusatory finger at him. “Told you to quit big brother act, didn’t we?”

“When have you ever known me to do what I was told?” Theron manages weakly, the joke falling flat even to his own ears.

“That why we make new rule,” Teff’ith says, and an uncharacteristic uncertainty takes hold of her. She seems to hold her breath a moment before speaking. “If you brother, you let us be sister.”

He frowns at her. “I thought I was.”

“No. Only let us be watched over." She crosses her arms, then, shifting awkwardly and focusing staunchly on the corner of the room. "Like you don’t need us to care.”

Maybe it’s the stress of the last few months, maybe it’s the excess of time alone with his thoughts, or maybe it’s the exhaustion—a lump wells in his throat, his eyes stinging, and it takes several swallows to clear it. Theron’s not entirely sure what to say, unable to tear his gaze from his own hands, the only sounds in the room the kolto tank’s quiet bubbling and the slight quiver at the end of his next breath.

There’s no anger left in Teff’ith when he turns back to her, but none of the intensity has left her, even as her posture is still a little too stiff. She seems to struggle to hold his gaze as much as he does to hold hers. “Agree?”

Theron nods slowly. “Agreed.”

“Good,” she says, She takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing; then, nervousness bleeding from her, she holds out her right hand, palm up.

“What?” Theron asks, glancing around for what she could possibly want.

Her look could wither a cortosis-plated droid. “Ran out of last meeting. Never paid us for tip-off.”

“Hey, I never promised payment for that,” Theron protests.

“Was understood.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

As they fall back on more familiar roles, Theron feels a piece of himself settle into place. In the end, he knows he’ll cave, knows a part of him doesn’t even mind, but in the meantime, he relaxes into the age-old argument, the room already feeling warmer.

[incorrectstarwarslegendsquotes]

Gnost-Dural: We finished the mission, didn't we? Jace Malcom: Yes... Theron Shan: So what's the problem? Teff'ith: Should we start with the part where you're stranded in the middle of nowhere, or the part where you have no clothes?

[reconstructionlegacy]

Ngani Zho Coerced Custody Of Theron

[Zho] had told the Jedi Council and the leaders of the Republic military that he had sent Satele on a vital mission— something he could not speak of for fear of endangering her life. Given Master Zho’s impeccable reputation, none had questioned him. Now, however, the mission was over. It was time for her to return; the Republic had fought too long without their champion. The Sith Empire’s relentless advance had gone too far. She could no longer ignore the Republic’s need. [...] “You promised you would take him,” Satele said softly, gazing down into the child’s wide, wondering eyes. “I will,” Ngani assured her. “If that’s still what you want.” “What I want has nothing to do with it,” she muttered as she reluctantly handed the child back to her Master. [...] As he took the child from her arms, the moment of greatest joy she would ever know ended.

— Star Wars: The Old Republic: Annihilation

BACKGROUND

Ngani Zho trained, according to Lost Suns (admittedly according to Zho the manipulator), Satele Shan, Syo Bakarn, Jaric Kaedan, and Bela Kiwiiks. Obviously, that is not possible for full Padawans, and Satele was under Kao Cen Darach's mentorship in the first trailer (and then he died), so my theory here is that Zho stepped in to "foster" mentor at least some of these promising young Jedi (and gain influence with them).

WHAT HAPPENED

Zho was somehow trusted by the Council (maybe because he partially trained a third of them). Satele became pregnant, went to Zho for advice, and rather than saying "let's talk to the Council, the normal Jedi support structure, which trusts me," he said "I will cover this up. For you." Like a favour.

He said to the Council that she was on a mission, which put a time limit on the 'plan' ("Always with the plan, aren't you?" Zho asks Theron in Lost Suns). By lying to the Council on her behalf, he made it impossible to go to them for support, or at the least heavily implied to Satele that her pregnancy was somehow wrong or shameful.

By isolating Satele from everyone but himself, and putting a time limit on her seclusion, he arranged for her to have no real choice but to give him custody of Theron. (The scion of a powerful bloodline... and possibly even blackmail material against the future Grand Master.)

Then, having secured the custody of Theron, he proceeded to isolate him as he had isolated Satele, and thoroughly abuse him. This is detailed in Lost Suns, and I will not detail it here; suffice to say it began at the earliest when Theron was five, and Theron's life was endangered by Zho, who abandoned Theron upon realizing he was not Force-sensitive.

(SOME OF) THE AFTERMATH

Years later, when Theron is an SIS officer, under convoluted plot circumstances (that is: the plot of Lost Suns), he reencounters Zho. Zho takes another young person, Teff'ith, under his wing, which Theron is unhappy about. (Teff'ith asks Theron, who has used the term 'childhood trauma' about Zho by this point, and will later elaborate with horrific detail that I, once more, decline to repeat, "Scared of him?". Theron says 'no' - you know, like a liar. Anyway -)

(My theory is that Zho was Star Cabal, Revanite, or both, and wanted complete control of the training of the Blood Of Revan... but fuck knows why he did any of this. Your guess is as good as mine.)

I do think, in the text, Zho's treatment of Theron is framed as abhorrent, especially given the cited and open trauma and abuse. There is also a line in Annihilation about him glaring at Satele in a way that reminds me of Theron's textual panic attack when Satele mentions Zho to him elsewhere in the book. Given this, I think it is an entirely reasonable conclusion, even ignoring the fact that he is baby-stealing Jedi georg, the only Jedi known to have actually stolen a baby, that he mistreated Satele, too.

CONCLUDING THOUGHTS

At any rate - Ngani Zho coerced Satele into giving him custody of Theron. Theron does not know this, and assumes Satele chose freely to gave him up.

We can't know what her decision would have been, because she didn't truly get to make one. She may have chosen to give Theron up. She may not have. But as it was, as it happened, she did not have a genuine choice.

TL;DR: Tie-in material makes it quite clear that Ngani Zho, the "Master Zho" in one of Theron's combat lines, coerced Satele into giving the infant Theron into his custody. This was terrible for everyone involved, except Zho.

[storyknitter]

Look, I think I'm funny and that's all that matters

[magnetarbeam]

I just reached the scene in Annihilation where Theron describes Teff'ith as "like a kid sister," and looking back on their various arguments I really can see a sibling dynamic.

This book is about the only TOR thing I've ever experienced, so I don't really know how close they were when Ngani Zho apparently took her in, but adopted sibling relationships in Star Wars have a special place in my heart.