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Yavin IV


Tarrian Skywalker

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They were by Roe'gall's side quickly. The tuk'ata was agitated, but less so from his wound than at the fact that his prey was escaping. Jaina dashed off in pursuit, but Emily held the tuk'ata back for a moment. "Hold still and let me look at that," she told him. The dagger was still sticking out of his leg, and she grasped it. With a quick pull, she drew it out and let it clatter to the ground. The wound was small, but deep, and bleeding profusely. Reaching into one of the pouches on her belt, Emily quickly removed a bacta patch, pulled off the packaging to reveal the sticky side underneath, and carefully applied it to Roe'gall's leg. "There." Something tugged at her mind, though, and she glanced back at the dagger. There on the hilt was a symbol she recognized. How many times had she seen it over the past few months, inscribed here and there on items belonging to the Cult? Ice filled her veins. There was no doubt now. The Cult was here. "Let's go get her," she growled.

 

The tuk'ata howled in agreement, and together, they dashed off, the scent of his prey in Roe'gall's nose. Emily used the Force to increase her speed, allowing her to keep up with the mutated monstrosity. They darted by a side room with a corpse in it, and Emily skidded to stop just in time to see Jaina slip through a hole in the wall, heading out to the jungle. "Jaina, where are you going?! Wait!!" But her aunt was gone. Silently cursing, torn for a moment, she hesitated, then tore off after Roe'gall. Her aunt would have to fend for herself. Kriffing cultists.

 

It wasn't difficult for Roe'gall to find Cassandra again. This time, he found her in a large side-chamber. Emily arrived hot on his heels, and when she saw the woman, her bronze saber lit with a *snap-hiss*. "Just where do you think you're going?" she threatened, her voice dark.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Atgriešanās...

 

Like a dreamer, following the course of a world which never began and would never truly end, she glided through surreal twilight. Here in the space between moments as the moon itself spotted its pirouette, the fragments of consciousness fathomed that which was infinite, and mere pieces of her soul could understand what had taken others lifetimes to comprehend. The Grey Goddess came to life with feverish joy, the tractor beam of her own anticipation pulling her to fulfill her promises, moving through light and darkness, water and earth, air and sky. With childlike wonder she followed obediently, to this place where death folded in upon itself and became no more, like a magic show or a trick of the light.

 

I cannot wake. The darkness is infinite, the light is omnipresent. Here, there dwell ages yet to pass, but time stands still in mourning. Yet where I am, you were not.

 

Eternity’s heat surrounded her as it had, shrouded in a tomb, lovingly crowned with the wildflowers of her childhood, dressed in the white satin of her pledge. So desperate she had been to find the fragments of her future that scarce a thought had been afforded to what unspeakable things she had seen from within the eddies of the Force.

 

I awakened in ice, afraid of being burned by the fire, and so I ran until I could run no longer. But when the fire melted me, and I became real, all that it became to me was the warmth of life.

 

The sound of running water, his whispers louder than the wind that rustled the trees, rattled the heavens. Like an addict, her body trembled in expectancy amidst the dreamlike movement of her own steps. The wind of his essence lifted stray tendrils of her hair, carrying a familiar scent on the breeze. It was the scent of the Dream, the endless place in which she had found herself on the other side of the veil.

 

From that which dies, life comes again.

 

Molecule by molecule, fragment by fragment, sinew and bone, his form began to take shape, as though he were growing from the very roots of the moon. Creation held its breath for the song her heart sang, the forgotten melody that would not consent to keep its peace. The unraveled threads of hope wove together on the loom of existence that which she had lost, that for which her bereaved soul clad itself in black until the end of time or the death of the eternal.

 

Were you deaf to the sound of my cries, or blind to the blaze of my longing? Suspended in dreamless sleep, what could have ever held you back from me?

 

The words could not be uttered aloud, lest the whisper of breath from between her lips should drive away his apparition like a wisp of evanescent smoke. All the galaxy evaporated, and the only reality was the beat of her heart that played for him as they stood, the Watchers reunited. Ablaze with life and light and timeless mysteries untold, hazel-grey eyes wide in wonder, the hand of the paradox reaching for her.

 

All of the yearning of centuries, satisfied in an instant; electric love bound the galaxy together as the new ancient skin of his fingers traced the riverbed on her cheek. She could keep her breath no longer, bound by mortal confines of oxygen and mitochondria. A whirlpool of desire forged within her innermost being at his touch, and as the quiet calm of his voice rent the heavens, she could bear it no longer.

 

Thirst crawled on her skin, the desperation of a starving soul denied sustenance, upheld in his memory. Shuttered away for decades, denied at every turn, the aridity of her existence saw an end in sight and collapsed into one singular purpose.

 

In a single motion, she crossed the distance between them, leaping into his arms with no thought but joy, every muscle in her body dedicated to the sole purpose of clinging to him, lest he slip away. The charcoal hood fell back from her face, the long tresses of her satin hair the veil of seclusion that preserved their private reunion from the stars themselves. Without reservation, without hesitation, her palms found his cheeks as his lips halted her from any reply.

 

Only when her lungs screamed for respite did she release him, pressing her forehead to his in wonder and disbelief, unsurprised to find her cheeks wet with tears but not even able to recall the sensation of crying. She searched for a reply where one would not come, the starlit Jedi Masters’ intertwined breaths punctuating the dawn.

 

Andon. Her Andon. This was no vision of the Force, no trick or test, no passing cruelty inflicted to eke another ounce of strength from her psyche. Like the missing component in a circuit, he had slid into place, and her soul was electrified. Weathered by time, there was nevertheless an evergreen vibrancy that pulsed from the core of his being, and both tempered and ignited her. Endless questions filled her mind, stilled by the singular desire, the need to lose herself in the infinity circle of his arms. Wit was the salt of his sweat, passion the strength of his sinew, truth and goodness ringing clear in the beat of his heart.

 

In his absence, Jaina had taken up his mantle and his burden, sending ripples of light and goodness into the Force. Now the truth came home to rest; they were bound in one another’s liberation, and for the first time that she could remember, the luminous soul inside of her hummed with the reverberating elation of true freedom.

 

“Not this time,” she whispered against the frame of his mouth, the violet pulse in her throat robbing her of vocal resonance. “Not this time.”

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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Do I regret it?

 

Alone he stood at the top of the world, an endless cascade of galaxies and nebulas and starlight explosions for as far as the eye could view into eternity. The heavenly bodies danced all about him and funneled downward, over the edge of The Precipice, into an eternal waterfall of universal creation and light. It was quiet at The Precipice, with only the lapping sound of The Veil waving in the currents of infinity to remind him of where he had come from. His little friends of shadow and light had accompanied him up the Staircase of Lifetimes, but they remained behind, none of them brave enough to cross the threshold into their Genesis Summit. His steps now tread where the last living creature between him and nothingness trembled at the thought of venturing further.

 

Do I regret it now, knowing all that it would cause?

 

He was now the captain of the gate, the last bastion of humanity in an all-expanding tide of countless worlds just outside of his reach. But he had a mission, and the Jedi was not easily undone. He stood at the edge time and starred downward at the waterfall of universal creation, watching as it formed into a salient tunnel of light and color and energy swirling below. The longer one starred into its depths, the deeper it drew you in, never to return. This is the path that would take him to anywhere and bring him to nothing. But he was a husband and father once; he would be again.

 

Do I regret it, knowing that I would send discord throughout all the cosmos?

 

He did not look at the stairs behind him, he simply he fell forward into time and out of the universe, never to be seen again. The great unknown was his only companion in these lands outside of the world: treading through the Valley of Always and Never to Be. It was an endless freefall though all of reality, and he could feel his mind beginning to slip away into the Epoch of All Ages. Here, he found himself being celestially undone. Andon gazed down at his own hands and watched the woven fabric of his being float away skin cell by skin cell, into the ethereal unknown.

 

Do I regret it now, seeing how I have broken Reality and mortally wounded Creation?

 

In the furthest corner of his mind, he ran from this cosmic thread being tugged and unweaving everything he had been and ever would be. Reaching deeper into the most reclusive sanctuary of his consciousness, he hid away the last treasure he could secure. In the place where no face or name of his wife could be found, he retreated into the void where he knew that it belonged and would be found again. He clutched the empty puncture tightly to his fading heart of flesh, as the last part of him was scattered to the furthest reach of forever.

 

The hell I do. I had a wife and daughter to find.

 

==

 

Through all that the Traveler had experienced and seen, in the inmost part of his being, he still clung true to that void where all his memories and love for Jaina had once belonged. And in this moment, the haze of the void began to clear, and outlines of all that he had lost began to stir and take form.

 

His arms clutched her tightly to his chest and he began to fear that he would squeeze the very life from her: yet he did not have the strength to lessen his embrace. He was weak, and she renewed him. For this was 100,000 legions of lifetimes in the making to experience the warmth of having her form meld against his once more. For he had become deaf, and her mouth was the only melody that could ever be heard, in this star-crossed tryst. Her lips formed themselves to Andon's, and the touch of her consumed him in a passion that awoke his shackled desire. The fires of his heart bloomed, and the furnace of his longing ignited. Outward in all directions, across the star systems surrounding Yavin, the chill of space evaporated and was replaced; all worlds there bid good-bye to winter and could only feel the warmth of a summer’s breeze.

 

As their lips parted, Andon’s forehead pressed to hers. Hands that had forged universes into being roamed along the canvas of her form, remembering the secrets of her beauty that time had tried so desperately to make our Traveler forget. Though there was no longer any mystery left in any world for him, Jaina was still his favorite story to discover. There was no moment that could ever enrapture him the way this had. She removed all fear that his was merely a dream. He took his wife’s face into his hands, and kissed her deeply, desperately, as if it was the first and last time they would ever share each other’s lips again. For all the time and worlds spent apart, she was still untamed beauty, unbridled passion, and the only pleasure worth knowing in all the universes. Jaina smiled at him, and he drank it in as the field does, during the shower that ends the long summer’s drought. His beard brushed against her cheek tenderly, as he spoke gently into her ear.

 

“I waited so long for you,” the words were hushed, hypnotic, and even. “I’ve searched so far, to places I could never dream.”

 

It was difficult for Andon to look at a being and experience them in the moment, for he comprehended their existence through the lattice of all their existences, simultaneously across every life conceivable. But he could see Jaina, in the here and now. And she was in pain. Conflicted. Lonely. Cold.

 

At the touch of her skin against his, the surface thoughts of her mind began to drift into his own. Were you deaf to the sound of my cries, or blind to the blaze of my longing? Suspended in dreamless sleep, what could have ever held you back from me? These are the thoughts of a wife to her husband. This was the legacy our Traveler had left for Jaina, in his journey of becoming The Boy Who Could Never Be. Andon had created so many impossible things, but he had left the love of his life feeling all alone. Torment flickered across his aura, but it disappeared across the expanse of all he had become. He did not doubt, not anymore. He did not mourn, nor did he regret. There was only truth. And the truth was that all things could be made possible by his hand.

 

He showed her the depth of the answer she had so desperately sought these long and lonely years. Why did you abandon me? How did you not hear my cries? Even now within the circle of his embrace, she knew that her Andon was never going to be the same. It shone like the sun on his face, that he was more than any Jedi could dream to be. He was absolute. Yet, he had still left her alone. He delved into the tapestry of eternity that flowed within his veins and whispered that which she longed to see.

 

Jaina’s pupils became opaque, and the vibrant auburn-green of her eyes began to pale as she viewed a transcendent excerpt from within the journal of his travels. Andon was there at the beginning and end of all things, for The Precipice was a gateway that took one anywhere. There was only one anywhere in all the universe he wished to go: he longed to find his girls. So, The Precipice took him there. His family had been hidden away throughout the vastness of time, so the gate took him to every corner of everywhere of everywhen to find them.

 

Within this revelation, the warmth of his light took one of the deepest agonies that had haunted Jaina’s mind for all these wandering years. Truth took the misery that had plagued her every chance of happy without him and tossed it into the furthest regions of creation, never to be seen again. She had not been left alone, she had not been abandoned. He had not forgotten her. He had searched far and wide, across worlds inconceivable for just the echo of her memory. Her longing for the man that had disappeared had been replaced by singular truth: Andon had gone to anywhere for her and paid every price it took. No matter the cost. There was a sadness about him now, of knowing where the story ends, even as the first sentence, of the first page, of the first chapter, has only begun to be read. She searched his mind, but she could not find the answer to his secret. He spoke and ended the world as she knew it.

 

“Wife... can you forgive me?”

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Dizziness began to set in as her mortal mind beheld things reserved for those elevated ubiquities. Never had she been able to see as Andon had, never had she perceived the eccentricities of the fabric of space/time with such clarity as to be able to influence it. Indeed, if the pursuit of such power, such vision, had removed him from her side, to begin with, it was scarcely something she had any interest in seeing for herself, and his soft words were the only thing that halted her from hastily constructing a mental barrier against the infinite that he showed her with the mere brush of his consciousness on hers.

 

But in the infinity within his eyes, concealed with the fibers of deoxyribonucleic acid, inhaled and exhaled with every halting breath, she could hear a crack that reverberated throughout time, the desperation of his soul that was always waiting for her. As though he had been carried back into the galaxy on the tide of the timeless Force, she saw herself as he had seen: the heart that yearned to interfere, held at arms’ length from her struggle, from the way that she watched the stars and hoped and yearned.

 

The flames that seared her flesh as she lay gasping on Altyrian duracrete, the blaster wounds that riddled her body as she struggled under the weight of the last friend who could remember the days when her soul glowed with peace and shadows did not lurk in every corner, the scream that had shattered the cosmos as the last fragment of Andon’s consciousness in the galaxy left her alone in darkness, falling, falling, falling through the endless forest of Kashyyyk, fighting, wrestling, grappling, clinging, scratching out the last fragments of hopes dashed one too many times.

 

Why now?

 

Well-trained muscles failed her, and were it not for the ever-tightening strength of his embrace, Jaina would have slipped to the forest floor, a black hole of amazement and horror growing in the pit of her stomach as she finally pieced together a story that could explain the endless torment of the last score of years. The hidden hand that snatched away her very breath of life had built the wall around his memories.

 

What, then, had measured the strength to draw her back from her eternal isolation?

 

The soft trace of the dark eyes from her taunting vision, grieving and adoring, and hoping, hope reborn with the first gasps of her newborn life.

 

Had Andon ruptured the fabric of infinity to interrupt such an eventuality? What force had undone the given word of powers more potent than Jaina had ever experienced? Reeling, her eyelids clenched together so tightly she did not know if she would ever pull them asunder again. The only mercy of the state in which she had found herself, months ago, shivering in Hapan satin, was that she was no longer a target, save to one, whose pursuit of her had yielded...

 

Pangs of guilt rolled in like waves of thunder, and Jaina finally collapsed into sobs, the mystery and the magic of the moment acceding to the mortal torment of the wasted years.

 

Across the cosmos, she had seen the pang of her husband’s longing, the ache in his soul branded with her name, but even the constancy of his desire for her did nothing to lessen the pain of endless years in purgatorial slumber. Forgiveness existed beneath her skin, but it was trapped under layers of armor she did not know how to remove, that to which even he did not hold the key.

 

Anguish pulsed in her veins as he asked her forgiveness, but words failed her once more, and all she could do was press her face into the soft black fabric of his shoulder as she folded in on herself in an attempt to stem the waning tide of their pain…

 

Their pain.

 

Silent sobs elucidated that which she could not say, that which she could not even deign to feel, that which she had no right to ask for. Petals of heartflower folded in upon themselves as joy and pain met in an endless feedback loop, a glitch in reality, and Jaina could not even bring herself to reach to that place within where comfort was always found for fear of the quiet resignation she would find there.

 

“Why did you come back?” she managed in muffled agony, desperate to hear him give an answer, to announce his intentions to the birds who held their peace and the stars that could barely watch.

 

This reality was too small for him, now, the confines of her existence, her passions given to things that were beneath his lofty attention. Even had he come back for her and her alone, crossing the galaxy and violating the laws of eternity for the sake of love, what did she have left to offer him, this godlike being who had returned on the crystalline steps of the Force itself?

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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When Cassandra had been hired on to study this ancient temple, she couldnt have dreamed of a better job. And since then her employers had supported her research with very little question, and only the occasional request on her part for samples or information about the temple. But the events of this day were enough to make her wish she had never taken the job. Hundreds of natives from the surrounding village had been slaughtered near the entrance of the temple, and now she was being hunted through the temple by some sort of monster that probably wanted to kill her too.

 

After she had managed to stab the monster and slam the door on it, Cassandra had quite literally run for her life deeper into the temple, weaving in and out of long corridors and open rooms until finally she had reached the room where the samples and tablet she had been studying were being kept. She had grabbed it all, hastily stuffing it all into the small locking satchel that was nearby, and turned to leave, slinging the strap over her as she locked the container. She briefly began hoping that she was going to be able to sneak back into the labyrinth of the temple corridors.

 

*snap-hiss*

 

"Just where do you think you're going?" a dark voice threatened from the doorway

 

Cassandra screamed in terror as she looked and saw the woman's rage filled face and the monster at her side, both illuminated in the light and shadows of bronze light. The terrified woman couldnt scramble back against the wall fast enough.

 

--------------

 

In the skies over Yavin IV, yet another ship appeared and descended down to the planet. This time however, it was a Gamma-class assault shuttle that came streaking in over the trees. bearing no identifying symbols, the shuttle was painted a neutral grey that was as common as ship paints come. It swooped down towards the Massassi temple that the occupants knew to be their target, scanning the forest around the temple for any signs of danger or anything that would be concerning to them. On the approach however, the pilots spotted the needle shaped shuttle sitting at the base of the temple. There was no scan conducted, nor was the ship properly identified before the shuttle's heavy blaster cannons opened fire without warning, pounding the Lost Child with cannon fire as the shuttle streaked by overhead, obliterating the ship and everything it carried in a massive explosion as the fuel cells ruptured. The shuttle continued past however, and streaked further over the treetops, having passed the temple now.

 

To an observer, it would have potentially seemed strange, until they realized that the assault shuttle had more targets, aiming for the open area on the outskirts of the small village that had taken root around the Temple itself. There sitting in the opening, were two ships that were still linked together. One of these ships, the Traitor's Hope was familiar to the group aboard the assault shuttle. They recognized it, and they had identified it the moment that the archiologist Cassandra had transmitted the images of the two ships landing. For the moment the second ship was unknown to them, but much like the Lost Child, that did not matter; they did not care. As soon as the ships were in within range, the cannons fired again on the clearing, only this time the full firepower of the assault shuttle was brought to bear, as a single concussion missile was launched with blinding speed at the clearing as well; with the targets being stationary, there was little need for tracking beyond simply aiming the launcher.

 

The missile exploded on target, and a moment later the shuttle streaked through the fireball, almost immediately arcing back around to head back in the general direction of the Temple, marked by the flames and smoke of the destroyed shuttle.

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

The rumble of an explosion topside tore Cassandra's eyes from the woman and monster that wanted to kill her as she looked up at the ceiling, which had released a handful of dust and dirt to fall to the floor between them. Once her brain processed that the ceiling wasn't going to collapse on her, her eyes snapped back to the woman, knowing that this room may still turn into her tomb.

 

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" she wailed in terror at the woman, half crying. "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! PLEASE, JUST LET ME LEAVE!"

 

Cassandra knew she was defenseless as her hands crawled over the stones that made up the wall behind her, searching for some measure of safety.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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He found himself tumbling deeper into the miasma of energy and thunderhead of colors that engulfed him within the tunnel’s humbling power. There was a deafening roar within this place of impossible realization, as the very tendons and skin of reality had been pierced and redirected by this unknown current. Andon could feel pieces of himself, distantly at first, being scattered to the furthest imagination of the most improbable dreams that could ever toil into being created. He could no longer be called man within this realm, for all that remained was his yearning for Jaina, evanescent tendrils of his last remaining will, clutching tightly to the speck within his heart where her face would be again one day. An impossible strength and scream without voice reverberated throughout this Wormhole of Wonder; this Traveler would not be denied. He would not be lost to the wind sheers of solar torment, he would not be lulled by the anthemic power of a cosmos that did not care. So, in this speck of his failing human heart that longed for Jaina, he became an entity of indomitable will.

 

His ethereal form fought against the boundaries of time and he catapulted himself to the tunnel’s wall, bearing down upon its horrific event horizon. And within the framework of its walls, he dared reach out and place his fading hand upon the barrier. It was warm, and he found a hand on the other side reaching for him. The collage of colors and frequencies were overwhelming, and his eyes could scarcely make it be seen, but a form was on the other side of the tunnel reaching out to him.

 

Downward through the spiral of infinity, he churned within the wake of eternity, but held tight to the wall and the phantom hand on the other side. He reached outward through the haze and drew the image unto himself. There, on the other side, Andon was face to face with… Andon. There was more than one tunnel, and he gazed at himself from the other side of the looking glass. The shape recognized it and gazed rearward, to the far wall of its own tunnel. The cascade of colors and images expanded outward, like a mirror endlessly reflecting itself forward unto dawn and past the sunset, never to return. Andon Prime struck the barrier in frustration and with a tumultuous groan, the tunnel waned and began to splinter.

 

The circle of lights faded, and at its horizon, there was only relentless black within the starless maw. Andon reached through the crackling and failing barrier, but there was no longer a hand on the other side to grasp. Out of the sanctuary of color and energy, he fell into darkness and was submerged. Gone was the roar, leaving only unrequited silence and his eyes closed for the last time...

 

***

 

He opened his eyes, recusing himself from the world that Jaina had painted within his mind. Behind his exit, she closed the Doorway to Her Inmost tightly shut, but he did not hear the lock click. Not yet. He placed his hand onto the frame way of her thoughts, and waited, patiently. He could feel her hand on the knob, but she would not turn it for him. He was unsure if it would ever be turned for anyone again. “Unsure” was not in his vocabulary, not anymore, but he found himself learning of its burden once more. Something deep inside the wavelengths of his dimensionally defying being cracked. He could feel it, a tear spreading throughout his eternity as something… broke.

 

He snapped back to reality. They were sitting on the forest floor now; Jaina leaning with her back against the great tree of blooms, and Andon sitting just across from her. The azure light of the fireflies draped across her brow as a crown, and he could only look in wonder. Lifetimes had been spent gazing upon the most indescribable beauties of heaven, and her visage now was the first time he was made to forget all their splendor.

 

Venom came within the strangest guises, and it poisoned him through five words: Why Did You Come Back. Five words that undid him.

 

This construct he had made to contain his essence flickered, its light fading abruptly as he winked out of existence, if only for the breath of a moment. She had... unnerved... him. He could not remember the last time his concentration had lapsed, but it did, for the briefest of moments. Andon was dangerously human around her. Even now, feelings that had spent eons in slumber began to stir and awaken within the dawn she was creating. Had she truly asked him why he had returned to her?

 

“Because all of it was meaningless without you.”

 

He understood there was no context to his words, it was simply abrupt. Blurting things out was not his style, but it was what he was feeling. For the first time in many lives, she made him feel vulnerable. In the dirt between them, he took his index finger and began to draw small circles in the sand-like ground.

 

“I opened many doors looking for you, but each room held no answer,” his voice was soft and delicate, mirroring the slow circles in the dirt he was tracing. “There were only more doors and more rooms.”

 

He stopped tracing circles in the ground and leaned his torso forward, bringing his face closer to the patterns he had created. He gently blew onto his ground images, kicking the loose dirt into the air. Actually, it was an incorrect amount of loose earth that now reached skyward, much more than what was on the ground to begin with. It hung suspended in time, like everything in this world since his presence had been first known. But slowly, the loose fragments of dirt began to swirl. Clumps of sand and dirt began to dance in intricate patterns and formed the shape of a planet.

 

“So, I kept searching, entering many doors and many rooms, seeking a way to find you.”

 

The soft earth swirled and shifted, creating the model of a solar system, with planets orbiting in tow around its anchor star. “Finally, there were no more doors and there were no more rooms,” and as he was speaking, the image changed and showed many star systems hurtling through the galaxy of the “Little Beyond” he had made.

 

“There was only one door, and it lead to but one room. And inside I found you… “

 

The intricate pattern of dust in the wind displayed a mighty cluster of galaxies, swirling about the heart of the universe. Within the heart’s rotation, an ever-expanding circle of galaxy clusters began a slow orbit. “But all of these things had already come to pass, and I could not find my way back to the place where I began. I searched for the Genesis Summit, but there is no return.” He gazed intensely at her, eyes that were full of years and out of time begging for her to understand why he had traveled so far and wide in search of any chance to be with her. His voice was little more than a whisper now, “There was no door leading back to you.”

 

Hazel-gray eyes came alive, with a flicker of power and absolution. “So, I made my own door. I broke through any wall that stood between us.”

 

His look softened, but Andon’s eyes remained locked with Jaina’s. He gazed at her for a long time, as if he feared that it would be the last time for a while before he would see her again. He had felt her reel away from the brush of the infinite that was now contained within the core of his being, but there was one last thing that he had to show her. With his right hand, he tenderly reached out and brushed her temple with the tips of his fingers. An image began to form in her mind as he spoke.

 

“You were the love of my youth; ever since I first saw you on Chad, I wanted you. Even when we were but teenagers, there was only you. I love you, I always have.”

 

There was a void of infinite black, but it began to retreat in the presence of light, as pinpoints of starlight began to erupt across the canvas of the great empty. And the darkness felt how truly awful goodness was, as it was moved by the Traveler's hand.

 

“I loved you till the death of the universe. And when it was remade, still, I loved you the same.”

 

The haze of light began to grow as more and more specks of light emerged from within the folds of space, and it began to form a silhouette. “I found a void deep in space, where not even the stars dare tread. I claimed it as my own personal solace. And in the embrace of the empty, I drew something.”

 

The shower of starlight gave way to the final image’s clarity. It was no longer a silhouette, but a face. Jaina. He had painted Jaina’s face in starlight, to be displayed across all the universe, as his place to call home. Forever. “I painted with stars the one thing I could never forget,” a single tear escaped down his left cheek, “the only thing that could make me remember what it was like to walk along the shore.” His fingertips retreated from her temple, and the image faded with it. There was only her husband now before her. His face scarred, but his eyes still vibrant. He exhaled slowly, but he did not remember ever breathing to begin with. There was still so much to show her, so much to tell about all the places he had seen. But that could wait.

 

“You’ve always been the good in me”, his voice sounded weak, for the first time in many years. “That is why now. Because it was the first moment I could…”

 

Hazel-gray eyes were still waiting patiently at the door, hoping to hear the handle turn.

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Had Jaina any idea of what was occurring elsewhere in time, the reverie of her starlit tryst would have shattered as delicately as a pane of Naboo crystal in a summer zephyr. The hope of escape, her one remaining home, the skeleton key that unlocked the galaxy for her: her ship had been irreversibly wounded. The stars themselves whispered the secrets of time's passage, as if capturing her attention might have been to halt the deed in its tracks, setting inexorable hiraeth in the future of the Jedi Master who called it home.

 

But Yavin IV had ceased its orbit, and the confused sentinel with her visage painted in eternal heavens was caught in the gravitational tide, blissfully--painfully--unaware of the time capsule of memory violated by dark intention.

 

As the dust formed galaxies and returned to dust, only a measure of peace brushed her soul. The steel-cabled portal within the shuttered place within her ached with the searing pain of Torment as understanding darkness whispered back. With their souls locked in syzygy, bound to one another, she could not open her mouth, speak, think, even begin to feel what Andon was showing her, so afraid was she of the ice that could quell the fire of the one with a binary beacon to her soul. She no longer remembered how to lift her defenses against either of them, and the strain of the heartstrings attached to hers threatened to tear her asunder.

 

Then, as one might shutter a window just as the aurora painted lovely, picturesque dawn, the atrophied defenses that had removed her from his sight for so long flickered back to life, with the only words that could have stopped her from impetuously clawing them to shreds. I yield to you...

 

Frozen in time on two fronts, the ice of her heart shattered.

 

Brushstrokes formed from the dewdrops of words that fell from Andon's lips, beginning to construct a world where everything was the hollow taste of longing, where infinity itself was absent satisfaction. The fingers that pressed to her temples plunged her into a formless void, drenched in wonder. Under the guiding hand of her customary curiosity, Jaina would have challenged any question with the fullness of investigation, with little thought to the consequence, a trait that had nearly resulted in her end more than once. But the warping, twisting vision of a realm she could not begin to measure the span of, depthless fathoms that returned no sound, struck a chord of fear into her already discordant heart.

 

Whatever infinite being lived inside the form of her husband, he had walked a thousand lifetimes without her, inhaled the first and exhaled the last atom of reality, seen the struggles and triumphs of the ever-expanding galaxy a million times over in search of her.

 

Mellifluous echoes began to hum ineffable mysteries in her ears as the soft voice of her husband--her husband--returned her to the earth on which she rested, her palms pressed into the cold ground. That abyss of isolation had tried to swallow her, its foul breath nipping at her heels, calling her into sweet oblivion, into nothingness where she was safe from all harms once more. Time had severed the lifelines that held her suspended over the abyss, taunting oblivion in its inability to claim her irreversibly. John, Sirvani, her mother and father, the bonds of the Force cut as time and injury had passed across them once too many times and they, too, fell through the darkness into the endless. This olympic deity that could show her the frame and figure of galaxies as simply as he could open his mouth to speak, while bearing the frame and form of her husband, felt through the Force almost entirely alien, pulsing with a power far beyond that which Jaina had ever seen in him before. Greedily, he and John had delved into the mysteries of the infinite, seeking to turn the tide of the Force, rather than merely asking its will.

 

Had he now become the Force itself? What power fed the cells of his existence? From a purely scientific level, a childlike curiosity arose in the little girl who tinkered with everything she could get her hands on, taking it apart to see how it worked. But she had a feeling that dismantling Andon would be like diving into the heart of a sun to feel what the heat of a summer's day was like.

 

It was only when he spoke, his voice sonorous with fallibility, professing the love into which she had yearned so desperately to dissolve, that Jaina could detect her husband in the majesty of the deity that had drawn her into these fey woods. Her trammeled heart gasped at the sudden oxygen of those words, as though a gust of wind offered encouragement to a smoldering flame, and she burst into life. Unable to keep herself in check any longer, unable to deny the tenuous balance in which she held these lifelines, crowned in starlight, instinct activated, and she began to come back to her senses, irrespective of the magic of the silent woods.

 

As she always did, she could run. Leave this behind, sheath the knife that would so easily plunge into the heart that she should never have asked to see; return eternity to its equilibrium, solve it all by denying herself her desires as she had become accustomed.

 

But her sandstone heart so yearned to be glass, to think that after all this time the breath of infinity could whisper fire to her heart once more.

 

As the door of Raynuk's heart latched in respect and deference to her, dispelling the constant haunt of the blackened memories that lingered, the door to Jaina's heart swung wide to release her to her husband.

 

Crowned in starlight, hollow pain and epochs of desire hidden behind her brandy eyes, she knelt before where he rested, the petrichor of midnight dew filling their senses. Her movements were shy, guarded, as though relearning even how to subsist under the gaze of his eye. Slowly, she stretched out her hands, meeting his gaze without looking away, even with the slow flush of red to her face that announced the tentative reach of her heart. So much of him was mystery, she barely knew what to say to him. The years reflected in the lines on his face did nothing to dissuade her from the pounding question in her heart yet to be answered.

 

"Follow me," she whispered, as she pressed her forehead against his, laying her palms along each side of his face.

 

From within herself, she drew what strength she could, from decades lost within the tides of the Force to years spent under its tutelage. Psychometry, discerning what had occurred where she did not know, was a skill that famously eluded her. But illusion had grown to become her strength. The forest around them faded away to a different kind of darkness, and from far across the miles of grassland, the nighttime bustle of a noble house could be heard. Tucked behind tall grasses, concealed behind the shadow of trees, she could always find him here. Barefoot, hair flowing as wild as a Dathomiri tempest, wearing the same starlit crown, the laughing second daughter appeared.

 

The wasted years would not be satisfied, and she knew that. But in the oasis of their youth, in the place of their first promises, they would learn each other again.

 

The clock would turn backward to set the stage for the last fulfillment of their reunion, and Jaina's heart could at last conceive of a hope of being unshattered.

 

If she could not admit Andon to that innermost place within, at least she could come forth.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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The woman’s terror was, Emily thought with some pleasure, perfectly right for her situation. Normally, Emily didn’t care to inspire terror except when it suited her needs, preferring to strike swiftly and quietly against her enemies, destroying them before they even knew she was there and disappearing just as quickly. But recently, her careful precision had vanished. The walls she had carefully built to protect herself from the ravages of the dark side had dissipated in her emotional upheaval, and she had shown herself more and more the former apprentice of the Warrior King. As this woman cowered before her, scrabbling against the immovable stone in a vain attempt to escape, Emily was reminded of Quietus’ master class in interrogation, performed not too long ago on another world drenched in the power of the Sith.

 

Her pulse quickened, and a haze of fire descended over her vision. The woman was a member of the Cult—her dagger had proved it. She represented all that was anathema to Emily, the source of the majority—no, all—of her recent pain. It was the Cult that had ransacked her childhood home. It was the Cult that had slaughtered her child. It was the Cult that had brought back a version of Quietus that didn’t love her.

 

“What do I want with you?” The voice that came from her mouth belonged to Darth Eris, harsh and cold as dry ice. Emily was dancing dangerously close to the edge, but she suddenly found that she didn’t care. Roe’gall, recognizing the dark turn in his mistress’ tone, growled threateningly in Cassandra’s direction, his red eyes glinting evilly in the low light of the temple. “I want you to tell me everything you know about the Cult that you are involved in. Why they were here. What they learned. What their plans are next. And above all…where I can find them.”

 

There was the sound of an explosion nearby, and Emily’s mind briefly flicked to Jaina. What the kriff was her aunt up to? But she didn’t let it break her concentration. Whatever had just exploded would have to wait.

 

Eris stepped closer to the crying woman, her lightsaber fencing her in from one side and Roe’gall from the other. “If you tell me everything, maybe I won’t let the tuk’ata eat you alive piece by piece,” she growled. To prove her point, a minute flick of the wrist neatly severed the outside two fingers of Cassandra’s left hand. Roe’gall immediately pounced, snapping up the morsels of flesh hungrily. “Well?”

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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The woman's voice, on top of Cassandra having run for her life and the monster at her command, had already been terrifying to Cassandra. But then the woman's voice changed, growing harsher and colder; Cassandra didn't think she could have grown more scared, yet she was on the verge of soiling herself. The growling from the monster doing nothing to ease her slow realization that she was likely going to die.

 

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the Cult that you are involved in. Why they were here. What they learned. What their plans are next. And above all... where I can find them."

 

Cassandra was now sure she would die, because she didn't have answers for this woman and her monster. Her mind began to race, scrambling for answers that she knew in her heart she did not have. Her mind didn't get very far before the woman closed the distance between them, brandishing her lightsaber as she spoke again.

 

“If you tell me everything, maybe I won’t let the tuk’ata eat you alive piece by piece."

 

tuk'ata... but those --

 

The thought was cut off, much like her fingers on her hand, by the explosion of pain that erupted as the woman flicked her wrist. Cassandra screamed out again, attempting to recoil away but with nowhere to go. She began sobbing uncontrollably, clutching her hand protectively against her and slid to the floor, making herself as small as possible. She had been reduced to incoherent babbling between sobs, trying to accept that she was going to die here.

 

"I dont know.... I dont know... Im just... just an arc...archaeologist... I didnt do... do anything..." She wailed. "I was just STUDYING the Massassi! FOR A PRIVATE MUSEUM!"

 

-------------------------------------

 

Outside the Temple, the Gamma-class shuttle swooped in low past the burning wreckage of the Black Sun ship, slowing to a hover a few meters off the ground in front of the temple. The ten side hatches facing the temple swung open, and from each door jumped three or four humanoids, dressed head to toe in green shock trooper armor that, like the shuttle they arrived in, had been recovered from the aftermath of the last Death Star. But perhaps more importantly, several of the troopers, spread out fairly evenly among their peers, were wearing the nutrient packs that would support the ysalamiri that rested on them; the effect was enough to cloak the entire platoon in the Force-less bubbles afforded to them by the small lizards. And last to step out of the shuttle, were two men who stood in stark contrast to the soldiers in their brown, hooded robes.

 

"Secure the entrance." one of them said, looking around as his hand played across a silver cylinder on his belt. His words caused the entire platoon to set into motion, and the shuttle lifted once more to adopt a more defensive position.

 

As the platoon spread to secure the area, the second man turned to him, his eyes glowing a dull, sickly shade of green beneath his upturned hood. The man did not physically speak, but yet the voice came to the first man's mind.

 

He is here... I can sense it... So too must be his desire.

 

"It is as you suspected Master; that ship was hers." the first man responded.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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“Off to a good start,” Eris replied. “Studying the Massassi. Now tell me where the Cult came in. You know, the ones who gave you that dagger? What did they want from you?”

 

If the woman was going to be compliant, then all the better for her. There was time to wait for the full story. The explosions seemed to state that her aunt had gotten into some kind of trouble, but the Gray Master didn’t sense any particular distress from Jaina, so she wasn’t too concerned, and all she got from the Force was a vague sense of unease.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Cassandra was still barely coherent as she continued to cry and clutch her hand to her chest in terror.

 

"I don’t.... know what you're .... what you're taaaaalking about," she managed before falling back into uncontrollable sobbing. "What CULT?! I told you I'm... I'm just an archaeologist! You're not making any sense."

 

The dull premise that she was absolutely going to die here continued to grow in her mind, until the point where it became a certainty. And that was when the fear melted away, and Cassandra gathered herself up. The tears stopped as she stared coldly at the ground.

 

"Why should I tell you anything..." She muttered after a moment. "You're just going to kill me anyway... Just like you murdered the villagers."

 

Cassandra refused to give the woman or her monster the satisfaction of looking her in the eyes.

 

Emily sighed. “Really? Now you decide to grow a spine?” She glanced at Roe’gall, who made a strange noise and glanced over his shoulder in the direction they had come. She frowned. Turning back to Cassandra, she gestured to the archeologist with her free hand. “You know I can take whatever I want, right? It’d be easier if you just tell me.”

 

Cassandra sniffled, still refusing to look at the woman. “I guess you’re not very good at listening. I don’t. Know. what. You. are. Talking. About! I came here, to study the Massassi, minding my own business, giving the villagers a wide berth, and then you monsters show up, and now all the villagers are dead and you’re acting like I’M the monster? Go skrog yourself…”

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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Now it was becoming a little amusing. Eris’ tone turned sarcastic. “You came here to study the Massassi. Yes, I know. And that dagger with the Cult’s markings just happened to be in your possession. Who do you work for, anyway? What private museum?”

 

Cassandra let out a disgusted sigh, “Why, so you can go kill them too over studying the remains of ancient civilizations that you think you lord over? And the dagger? I didn’t even want the stupid thing, but the leader of the research team that I hitched a ride with when I came here months ago gave it to me. He said he found it in one of the other temples south of here.”

 

She risked a glance down at her now mangled hand. “Why won’t you just let me leave, I didn’t do anything to you…”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Emily replied flatly. “But your dagger-loving friends did. Tell you what: tell me more about the research team and the museum and I’ll let you go. But if you don’t tell me…” she left the threat hanging.

 

“...You’ll kill me and feed me to your dog.” Cassandra finished spitefully. “I was only with them for a day when we first landed, they went their way, I went mine. They left the planet, and I stayed behind to do my job. All I know about the museum is it’s on Coruscant, and is run by Doctor Shomrot. So I guess you might as well kill me, because I clearly don’t have the answers you think I do. I don’t believe you’re going to let me go anyway you schutta.”

 

Emily considered the tear-streaked face of the other woman. “One more question then before you die: you said those researchers went their own way. Which way would that have been? Do you know what temples they were studying? And do you know when they left?”

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Cassandra rolled her eyes, clutching her hand even tighter. “They told me they were heading south to the next temple, and I came here. I saw them leave a week after we got here.”

 

“Thank you,” Emily replied with cold politeness. With that, she swung her lightsaber at the woman….hitting her soundly in the head with the pommel of her hilt, knocking her out cold. She knelt down and placed a hand on the archaeologist's temple and poured the Force through the woman’s mind, verifying that everything she had been told was true, and there were no further details that Cassandra viewed unimportant but would be critical in the hunt for the Cult.

 

Emily would find that the woman had not lied to her, but had neglected to mention that she was expecting a ride off planet to arrive soon.

 

“Well that seems ominous,” Emily muttered to herself. “Now for the difficult part. Sorry, Roe.” She refocused the Force into a scalpel, attempting to wield it in a way that the former dark lord of this planet had been infamous for. With some finesse, she scraped off the top layer of memories from Cassandra’s mind, erasing everything from the past few days. She might have accidentally gone deeper--she was no pro--but when she was done, Cassandra would find she had no memory of anything that had gone on here, save for perhaps a pair of glowing red eyes. Tuk’ata mutants were difficult to erase from the psyche.

 

“C’mon,” she told the tuk’ata. “We’d better go find out what trouble Jaina has gotten herself into.” She reached down and took the bag off of Cassandra’s shoulders. There’d be time to see what was so important when she got back to her ship and had access to a computer.

 

You dare to take what is MINE child…

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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The voice was cold, and darker than anything Emily likely had felt before. It echoed, both in her mind, and in the room itself as the limp form of Cassandra lifted her head, her eyes glowing a sickly shade of green.

 

A ripple of ice trickled down Emily’s spine as she stepped back a few paces. Every spine on Roe’gall’s back stood straight up, and he growled loudly. She slipped the pack over her own shoulders. She let none of her icy dread show, however, and instead, spoke calmly, addressing the voice. “Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Care to introduce yourself?”

 

The body of Cassandra lifted from the ground, not onto its feet, but floating above the ground like some sort of demented puppet. The head spun to Roe’gall, and a decidedly unnatural and very sadistic grin gripped her unconcious face.

 

No.

 

Without warning, and without the telltale motion that a true Force user would require, Roe’gall was ripped off his feet, and thrown clear through the doorway of the room.

 

This will be your tomb, Emily Zsahra-Skywalker… Darth Eris… Consort of Quietus. I will take what is mine from your corpse.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Outside the temple, the same two pair of hooded men stood watching and waiting at the temple entrance along with the mass of troopers The second man again turned to the first, his eyes still glowing unnaturally.

 

Destroy it.

 

The first man nodded, and glanced up at the shuttle. “Open fire.”

 

The shuttle wasted no time, instantly firing all of its heavy cannons at the entrance of the temple with the intention of collapsing it, even adding another of its concussion missiles to the mix for good measure.

 

-----------------------------

 

The temple shook violently as another explosion, much closer this time, echoed through the temple. But the sounds did not cease, and in a matter of seconds large chunks of rock were beginning to fall. The possessed form of Cassandra simply laughed maniacally as the room began to collapse.

 

The body of Cassandra was silenced soon after as a large chunk of the ceiling collapsed on her. The temple itself would not last very much longer at this rate.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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Your information is out of date, Emily snapped icily in her thoughts. But she was too busy to voice them. As soon as the entity sent Roe’gall flying, she went on the defensive, bringing her lightsaber around. But she stopped herself. There was no use killing Cassandra; it was unlikely that the entity controlling her would be harmed with her death. But maybe she could bring the unconscious woman with her…

 

The being’s next words were punctuated by the temple suddenly shaking. It was all Emily could do to stay on her feet. Jaina? she instantly thought. But she rejected the idea immediately. This was the entity’s doing, not her aunt’s. Abandoning the archaeologist, she dashed away towards where her tuk’ata had disappeared. Roe’gall was trained to shake off Force blasts--after all, it was a standard attack in any Force-user’s arsenal--but she had no idea how much power the entity could access, and Roe’gall was already injured.

 

She leapt out of the way as a large piece of rubble came crashing down where she had just been standing, and found Roe’gall in a corner, a little dazed, but on his feet. She darted to his side, throwing up a Force barrier around them to deflect some of the debris. “We need to get out of here, now!” she shouted.

 

The tuk’ata blinked, then let out a rumble that let Emily know he was hurting but fine. After a split second of hesitation, she threw herself astride the giant beast. He began to leap and bound, heading towards the last place they had seen a way out--the small opening Jaina had left by. What pieces he wasn’t able to evade, Emily deflected with the Force or cleaved in two with her lightsaber.

 

But the temple was coming down faster now, and Emily got a sinking feeling. They weren’t going to make it. Gritting her teeth, she reached out through the Force, seeking her aunt. "Jaina! Cult!" That was all the strength and focus she could spare. The temple crumbled around them, and it was all Emily could do to keep a bubble of air around the pair as they were buried under the ancient stones.

 

Eventually, all was quiet.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Jaina had haunted his days and eluded his dreams, but she was finally here. He could feel her now, his hand along her face and his touch across her heart. Jaina had become so guarded, even now he could sense the steep walls that had arisen around its pulse during the long years he had been away. Would they ever come down? He did not know. Would she ever let them? That too, he did not know, for sure. The touch of his mind ran along the intricate mold and form of that which she robed herself in, and he swore he could begin to feel the layers crack. Yet, they were not quite ready to be peeled back and reveal the treasure that had always been inside, for one bold enough to seek it. But Andon was a patient man, waiting many lifetimes for just the chance of her thoughts drifting to him. What was one more lifetime, if that is what it took?

 

The entire star system of Yavin surrendered to his presence, bringing about a stark hush to the star and all its worlds. No being moved or thought or dreamed within their tryst, for he did not will them to. It was their world for this moment and every moment to follow. Even the star, with all its smoldering fury, ceded to Andon’s desire. And by his hand, the star burned only for her now. Just as he did. A terrible power spanning the lifetime of universes beckoned from within his inner being, but he chose to retreat from it. For so long he had been focused on everywhere except where he was; on what he was doing. So much of what he had become was incomprehensible, an eternal riddle answered by none, and sought by fewer. He was always on the move, a limitless Traveler of Anywhere and Everywhen. Now there was nowhere else to be but by her side, and the essence of infinity that flowed within his veins fell to but a murmur as his wife crossed the span of dirt between them.

 

Jaina took his face within her hands, pressing her forehead gently against his. Follow Me. Slowly and deeply, he breathed her in, remembering days from long ago, lived within a lifetime without doubt or question for what was shared between them. He closed his eyes, holding both the memories and the girl close to his heart, forever more. He was a being of hidden ability, containing a presence of indecipherable power and will, within an ethereal signature that gave away nothing of what was just beneath the surface. Within, he was more of a force of nature than man, but her touch tamed the tumultuous currents that defined him. They quieted in her presence, falling to a gentle lull: the wash of a summer’s breeze that he opened to her. She brushed his heart, and they were whisked away…

 

***

 

His eyes were closed, but he could feel that warmth of the sun on his face, and the lap of the waves against his feet. The sand was soft as he squirmed his toes within the damp granules that made up the shoreline. Distantly he could hear the melodic call of the Devonshire flock, the native songbird that roamed the coastline of the Nasrin Sea. They were notoriously short-sighted, navigating purely by sonic vibration, as they called out to one another between the flaps of their wings. It was… hypnotic.

 

He is lying on his back, hands tucked behind his head, enjoying the embrace of the summer season. The sand is warm, the water is cool, and he is about to be in love.

 

A hand found his chest and he opened a single eye to look upon who would dare interrupt his, not so needed, beauty rest. The soft curls of brandy-brown hair flowed downward, framing the delicate features of her face, exactly how he remembered every line to be. She was different, younger, but had remained Jaina. He turned his head to face her, slowly opening his remaining eye that so desperately clung to sleep. He too had returned to his youth, with face unscarred and his beard relegated to mere stubble grown after many purposeful weeks. Andon smiled and drowned out the sun above them. Jaina squinted her auburn-green eyes, tilted her head, and smiled tenderly down at him; all the light in the galaxy failed to compare.

 

This is the moment Andon fell in love with his Jaina. It is the smile that would change the future of eternity.

 

He remembered this day well, starring up at her face, under the clear blue skies of Chad. Even when the details had been stripped from the forefront of his mind, he had carried it always. This was the empty spot within his heart that he had clutched so tightly, believing one day it would be known again. And after all this time, here it was before him. He could sense Jaina within the memory with him, tracing along the folds of yesteryear, seeing the world through his eyes, if only in glimpses. This was their shared retreat, away from everything that will be, returning to all that they have been, and could be again.

 

“Follow me,” she whispered, nipping at his ear.

 

In a flash she was up from his side and he could only see the blur of her white sundress and azure scarf streaking behind her as she made for the tree line. The corner of his mouth turned upward into a smirk before giving chase, his barefoot bounds dashing across the sand in pursuit of his desire. Andon’s heart rate fluctuated, and his breathing increased as he broke through the first of the trees searching for her. He quieted his breaths and remained as still as his adrenaline allowed, attuning his senses to any speck of her path. It would have been easy to simply reach out and observe the timeline, learning where she had gone. He envisioned transporting himself with a wink to her exact location, ending the chase and attaining his prize. But he chose not to, for it didn’t carry the same sense of adventure and excitement. No, instead he quieted his infinite mind and listened to his instincts. There was a crack of a twig from an errant footfall and he snapped his head in its direction, catching the faintest glimpse of a white dress. A smile spread across his face and he raced after her, between a pair of trees with weeping branches.

 

The foliage was much denser than it appeared from outside the grove. The heavy canopy of the branches diminished the light that could be seen within. His eyes scanned the surrounding trees and he saw the hem of Jaina’s dress peeking out from behind one of the tree trunks. Andon brought himself down to a crouch, making his footfalls velvet soft as he approached from an angle that could not be easily seen. He leaped forward, wrapping his arm around where the dress waved within the breeze, in a playful attempt to tackle her to the ground. When he stumbled awkwardly, he looked down at his arms to see her white dress… but without Jaina in it. And if he had her dress, then where was Jaina? Sheer and utter confusion overtook him about what had just transpired, making him oblivious to her approach from behind as she tackled him to the ground.

 

He felt the shimmering silk of her scarf along his face as she wrapped it about the top of his head, covering his eyes. He rolled over onto his back and could make out the rays of sunshine breaking through the canopy top. The azure fabric made his vision blurry, but he could tell that it was Jaina that now pinned him to the ground. Her smile was coy and her gaze longing. He nearly reached out with his senses to undo the haze of his vision, but again, he simply allowed events to develop without his influence. Somehow, it just felt right to allow the moment to happen. He enjoyed simply experiencing Jaina, discovering the plans of her heart. Jaina’s lips found his and she kissed him deeply, as if the very essence of life revolved around the spark that fueled their attraction.

 

Within him, a whirlwind of feelings began to bubble to the surface. Gone was the bravado and wit of Andon’s self-defense, he simply allowed himself to be. He reached out with his hands and traced her lines, as if for the first time. There was another first that he decided it was time to reveal.

 

“Jaina, I-”, her fingers touched his lips and stopped his sentence. Through the fabric, he watched her lean down and kiss the tip of his nose.

 

“I know,” she grinned. “Silly boy.”

 

She kissed him once more, and he lost himself in her touch. She giggled as she grabbed the scarf around his eyes and removed it, sprinting deeper into the grove before Andon could react. There was no call of the infinite in this moment, and the echo of eternity was oddly silent in its wake. In the memory of now, he was merely a boy seeking a girl. He returned to his feet and looked around, finding neither the dress nor Jaina. Her laugh could be heard in the distance and he gave chase once more, knowing it was only a matter of time…

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The conduction of warmth that painted her back, from the day’s worth of sun absorbed into the soft sand, began to slowly fade with the echo of adolescent laughter as the semi-dark of forest encroached on her tropical daydream. The fingers that pulled slowly away from Andon’s temples trembled slightly, as though they were loath to be parted from him, but could maintain the illusion no longer. Something had awoken within Jaina, the desperate yearning of a long-buried memory, and as the last vestiges of light faded from the illusion they had crafted, she could not quiet the anticipation that wracked her nerves as she studied him.

 

It seemed that whether the shuttered door within her heart was open or closed, the Destroyer-sized mantle of guilt she had borne since her footsteps carried her within the Ravenhammer would not abate. But she had made her choice long ago. What did it matter if lifetimes, epochs, eons had passed? Andon was the one who had pierced through the conflict within her to draw her into the light, the one to whom she was not disposable, the one she looked for first in every crowd.

 

Had it really been so easy for her to let that go?

 

The mighty leap her heart had given at the inkling, the whisper of his presence in her mind, was tempered by the painful labor of months her heart had undergone in putting him aside, accepting a galaxy without him, living for their daughter as the last hope of seeing the grace of his smile. With all that was within her, she wanted to recall, to embody the playful, carefree days of early womanhood, but they seemed somehow utterly lost. There was a depth to his power that she didn’t dare attempt to comprehend, a truth of what he had lived and seen that she could not bear to face.

 

I tried so hard to forget you.

 

But the sheer memory of their days in the sun was enough to cause her heart to quiver. Anything would be worth the taste of the reckless love she had felt in her youth, when they had risked everything for one another.

 

If she could remember how to be that girl, the one who had fallen so irretrievably for the renegade with his eyes to the stars; if she could make everything less important than the way his eyes shone when they rested on her; if she could play her part in the grand tale of unending romance that shattered infinity and ruptured creation itself, would all of the pain and loss and doubt and guilt be worth it?

 

There was only one way she would be absolutely sure. In this moment of frozen time, all the galaxy could wait, and a Jedi Master with vows of responsibility and a shuttered-door heart stole a moment she was not allowed.

 

Teach me to remember.

 

Solemnity glistening in her eyes, she reached out for him, cupping his face in hers. A bolt of soft green jacquard, from the traditional tabard she wore, wound its way around Andon’s eyes, as if mirroring the memory she had recalled to share with him. A shaky exhale of rarified air escaped her lips, and wordless doubts whispered to him as their breath mingled. Trembling fingers followed the line of his jaw, like a thief caught red-handed spiriting away a priceless piece of art through the back doors of a museum. In what galaxy did this man--but no, he was more than man--this demigod belong to her?

 

Shyly, her hand paused over the pulse of his heart, his chest surprisingly cool to the touch as she traced his skin with her fingertips. A flush she could not control spread across her cheeks, and the pace of her breath quickened as her desperation reawoke. It was as though she had been crawling through a desert, nothing but the briefest oases of respite from her cruel wanting, and here she had come upon an endless fountain. He had become the water of life to her once more.

 

Hesitation seemed foolish, for here where they were outside of time, there was no time to waste. Pressing her lips to the hollow of his throat, she curled up within the circle of his arms, lost in concrete surreal.

 

“You’re here,” she whispered into the oblivion of his skin as long-repressed ardor began to break free of its restless chains. “You’re here.”

 

Gentle hands coaxed her from the ocean of pain within which she had relegated herself to drown, and slowly, haltingly, with utmost care, as though flint met steel for the first time, the kindling of her soul caught flame.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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The gathering of soldiers and commanders did not display any level of fear or concern as the massive, ancient Massassi Temple that had stood for thousands of years practically untouched crumbled under the unforgiving firepower of the shuttle. As the rubble settled and the dust began to do the same, they all still waited. Only the vague movements of bracing themselves against the dust cloud gave evidence that they were not the statues they appeared to be. Only when the dust finally settled , allowing the light of the day to streak onto the pile of rubble, did the two cloaked figured stir. Together they moved forward, closer to the rubble. As they approached, one of them reached up to pull back his hood, revealing the face that, if the Consort of Quietus was still alive, would have instantly recognized as Zarl, wearing the same cocky grin that she had last seen him with. He produced a datapad and activated it, the display lighting up with a fairly simple radial tracking display.

 

The second man however, kept his hood up, a dull yet intense green glow from under the hood giving off enough light to make out the vague shape of a human chin. Zarl continued to walk forward until the datapad began to ping quicker and quicker with each step. FInally he stopped, turning to the hooded man beside him while he pointed to a spot in the rubble.

 

"There."

 

Zarl received no acknowledgement from the second man other than a very minor nod, at which point Zarl glanced back at the rubble with a nod of his own, giving a wordless waved command to the troopers. Two squadrons began to pick their way across the rubble pile towards the vague area that had been pointed to, spreading out in a loose semi-circle so that the several troopers carrying ysalamiri covered the area of rubble in question within the lizard's natural Force-negation fields. The hooded man took another few steps forward then, climbing atop the rubble himself before both arms shot out in front of him, the same cold voice emanating from the hooded man.

 

Tzihra iw ri drosar, timili negu nun, uzmani manai komandai, brodukai hal min, Diâ ri midwan Nu dzuontai

 

There was a flare of green light from the man's face, before twin columns of green power extended from his outstretched hands, worming and splitting their way into the rubble and wrapping around several of the large chunks of stone. In an instant, each piece of stone was thrown to the wayside by the mystical green appendages before each dove back into the pile of rubble to wrap around another chunk of the temple and likewise toss it all aside. A number of other stones were grabbed and removed in this manner, but almost immediately the appendages paused, and then dove into the rubble itself, worming their way down among the countless cracks and crevaces formed by the pile of rubble. The hooded man's arms jerked to and fro in tiny movements, halfway between twitches and subtle movements as the entity aimed the green power to its destination.

 

Three minutes passed in this manner before the voice returned.

 

I have what is mine.

 

In less time than it took for the green appendages to work their way down, they retracted like a rubber band, emerging from the pile of rubble with enough force to send more rubble flying as well. And there at the end of the worming tenticle of green magic was the bag that had belonged to Cassandra, it's shoulder strap completely torn asunder and sporting a few tears along the material that encompassed the lockbox stashed within. The entire object was deposited directly into the hands of Zarl, who looked down at it for a moment, ensuring the integrity of the lockbox's seal before looking up and nodding to the hooded figure, who stared back in silence as the green glow faded from his arms before they returned to his side.

 

"Time to make our departure..." Zarl spoke, backing away from the rubble pile for a few feet before turning, retreating back to where the rest of the armored soldiers were still waiting beneath the floating shuttle. As he moved, the soldiers who had converged upon the rubble pile itself also began to retreat from their locations, backing off the rubble to rendezvous with the others.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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The quiet didn’t last long.

 

As the dust settled in their rocky dome, Emily took a deep breath. And then immediately began coughing. Bad idea, she berated herself. Carefully, she looked around the small area, taking in the position of the rocks, and realized she could let up a little on her Force exertion. A few smaller pieces tumbled down, but overall, the structure held.

 

Her hands absentmindedly verified that Cassandra’s bag was still at her side. Whatever was inside belonged to Morthos, and she wasn’t about to let such a valuable clue out of her possession. Actually, she thought, might as well take a look right now, since it’d be safer to wait for Jaina to help get us out of this rubble. She didn’t want to accidentally bring a large piece down on herself or the tuk’ata through negligence.

 

She had just pulled out the artifact when she felt the Force flicker out around her. Sithspit, she cursed mentally. More of Morthos’ minions had arrived. And there was little she could do surrounded by rubble and stripped of the Force. Quickly, she visually scanned the lockbox, using the Force to attempt to open it, committing everything she saw to memory. But it was sealed with a strange seal, and it took her a few seconds to figure out how to worked. Unfortunately, the Cult moved fast. In those few seconds, an ethereal green tentacle pushed through the cracks in the rubble. Emily cried out in surprise—whatever this was, with the ysalamiri surrounding them, it couldn’t be the Force. The tentacle was joined by several more. Small pieces of rubble began to rain down on them again as the tentacles disturbed the carefully balanced chucks of stone. They seized the artifact. Emily held onto it for dear life, but the tentacles wrestled it out of her hands and disappeared. She cursed again, stronger this time, anger racing through her. But there was nothing she could do. The Cult had bested her again.

 

No. She refused to let them win again. She was the only one who was still in pursuit of the Cult, and by the Force, she would keep fighting until it killed her. She had lost too much to give up now. The rubble was threatening to completely collapse, but she kept her cool, waiting…and the moment the ysalamiri’s influence receded, she gathered her strength. So much for waiting for backup. “Hold on, Roe’gall,” she gritted out. In her mind, she envisioned a massive wall, and pushed with all the strength of the Force.

 

The rubble surrounding her exploded outward, raining chunks of rock on the retreating Cultists. Emily and Roe’gall dashed out of the hole with Force-enhanced speed, and Emily targeted the blank holes of the Force that were the ysalamiri. Rubble took out two of them, Roe’gall ripped the head off of one of the soldiers and crushed the lizard with his massive paws, and Emily’s lightsaber slashed through the remaining one, killing both lizard and solider. The Force, which had briefly flicked out as Emily approached, rushed back. Emily ran forward, Roe’gall by her side. There were more soldiers than she hoped for, but it wouldn’t cause her to hesitate. Making use of the abundance of rubble, she began hurling large chunks of rock towards the Cultists and their ship. A particularly large piece collided with the engines of the shuttle, sending sparks flying, and she aimed another one at it for good measure before returning to targeting the troops with her mental projectiles.

 

Meanwhile, her lightsaber was up in a defensive posture, and she ducked behind another large piece, thick enough to protect her from blasterfire, that had half-buried itself in the soil. She hoped Jaina would get here soon, but either way, she’d do everything she could by herself to stop them from getting away.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Floating through the starless maw, he had entered a realm of shadow, one that was darker to view with one’s eyes open. He had crossed into a plane where it made no difference to navigate with eyes wide open or closed indeterminately. It was cold, though he did not expect a place of creational void to feel any different. I don’t know what I was expecting. His thoughts echoed from all directions, as if he were performing a ballad for infinite patrons within an everlasting Great Hall. Only it was an audience of one, and he was unsure of even that. Andon felt stretched into an infinitely thin strand, tempered by time, and weathered to the verge of collapsing within himself. But he still clung to hope, that he would soon approach a dawn that did not begin and end with navigating a star-vacant sea of Never-to-Be. He knew it to be true, that he would create a new day that existed beyond breathless desire, left unrequited within the backdrop of his own odyssey.

 

Jai…

 

A ripple in the maw began a timid wave of energy. Through the void, he reached for it, feeling traces of warmth within this prison of absolute zero.

 

Soon.

 

***

He followed the touch of Jaina’s hand through the reverie of his own deep and wandering thoughts. There were only mere inches between the pair of star-crossed lovers, but auburn-green eyes gazed intimately into the very heart of who he had become, searching through endless cascades of time for an answer to her question she could finally deny. She searched him for a reason to leave, but he had none to offer. Not this time. This lifetime, he was here for the long-haul. The scar along his face softened as he relaxed his features, simply resting in the presence of her gaze. His heart reached cautiously outward and brushed against the walls that had become so familiar around hers; a soothing touch along the lines he could begin to feel opening between the layers. It whispered to her, words so faint, they wouldn’t dare to be spoken louder than a hushed promise.

 

I’m with you, until the end of the line.

 

There was a great shadow of guilt that surrounded Jaina, a terrible creature of burden that had wrapped its evanescent tendrils tighter around her, with each breath she took in his presence. Tenderly, he probed it with his mind, not to disturb, but to simply understand. Flashes of places and beings within her timeline that had been hidden to him were revealed. There were many new faces, and some unexpected ones as well, that had shaped her life without him. There was much sadness and doubt, marred by the weight of responsibility and loss. Through each of these moments was another presence, he could see it now. A white wolf. It was very distant to detect, but also very near, as if it was coming from both within her, yet also from points outside of her. There was a face within the gaze of the White Wolf, one he had not looked upon in many years. A curious tale to be told, indeed, when the time was right. But now was not that time, and he retreated from his stroll just outside the boundaries of the Guilt Wraith.

 

A fractional pang of loss pricked the inside of his heart as his wife’s gaze rested upon him, conveying she had felt him experience a glimpse of her burden and journey. She, like the rest of all those he held dear, had moved on without him. For the first time since their reunion of destiny, sadness haunted his hazel-gray eyes. Others had gotten on with their lives, but he had not forgotten: he could never forget all that he felt for her, and what it had meant.

 

Her touch once again shook him from this reverie, as he could feel the trickle of all she felt and had within, begin to slip through the minuscule fissures within her walls. There was something there, that had not been so, just a moment before. Love. She still loved him, the same as she always had, and now reached for him gently, in a way he had worried would never be again. She called to him, begging for him to teach her to remember all the ways they had loved, the way he had endeavored to never abandon, for it was eternally true and good. She looked at him with longing to remember the boundless love of their youth, so they could share it once more. Husband and wife, again.

 

Jaina took his face delicately in her hands, and he felt himself begin to warm. He stole a small smile for the just the two of them, as he watched her remove a length of fabric from her tabard and adorn it around his eyes, just as she had done so long ago on Chad. She exhaled all the doubts she could not bear to speak aloud, and he inhaled the breath of her longing, for they would now bear it together. Both had spent so long existing, yet not living. They each had fought and striven for insurmountable goals, but had survived in the absence of being human. Her mind wandered, looking for answers for how they could return, after so long apart. The answers were found by timid fingers that traced the lines of his jaw and found their rest just above the beat of his heart. The heart that had always beat for her. She explored him, searching for the unspeakable, knowing all that he had was hers. Her lips found his neck and he was alive again, in this world he had created, unbound by time, and limited only by their own desire. She exhaled, “You’re here”, and breathed him in, once more.

 

Andon held her for a long while, running his hands along her form, as if warming her, by degrees, from the long winter’s night Jaina had endured without him. An ancient and raw power that existed before creation, flowing freely within the ethereal currents of timelessness, now flowed through his veins. Yet, he quieted its call and brought his boundless power to little more than a dull rumble. For so long he had struggled with the endlessness of Infinity within and the longing mortal heart it enveloped. But today, it was not a struggle, for she made him feel entirely human. With her, he was simply Andon, again. He chose to be Andon: for Jaina.

 

His hand reached up and cupped her jaw within the web of his hand, between his thumb and forefinger. His thumb gently moved back and forth against the side of her cheek, caressing it in a slow tempo. Her skin was soft and warm, just as he had remembered. Andon shifted his hand, tracing the contours of her lower lip with a light and impossibly slow touch, taking in every part of how she felt. His touch was warm against her skin, sending ripples of longing throughout her being, as his heart whispered once more.

 

I belong to you. In this galaxy and the next.

 

His fingertips continued their impossibly slow journey of her form, traveling down the nape of her neck, and delicately tracing the lines of her collar bones. Her heart rate increased, and he found his own heart beginning to mirror hers. His touch led downward against her bare skin, resting along the beat of her heart, drinking in every note of its flutter; for the pulse of Jaina's heart beneath his hand was sweeter than any melody that could be fathomed. Her gaze caught his through the sheer fabric, beckoning him to continue. His fingertips renewed their impossibly slow, almost teasing, venture as they caressed and embraced the warmth of her skin against his own. Jaina’s breathing increased sharply, and Andon found his lungs burning for oxygen, as well, unsure of how long he had been holding his breath.

 

A Traveler of many places and infinite times, he was finally exploring the great adventure he had sought for so long. It was a desire that had kept him going, when little else could. Just the hope of her scent and touch, made him capable of things that dreams dared not wonder. Now that he had both, Andon was alive for the first time, again.

 

She turned to face him, slowly unveiling Andon’s eyes from underneath the fabric in which she had cloaked them. Jaina held the bolt of fabric between her hands and gently laid it across the back of her husband’s neck, pulling him resolutely downward into a deep kiss, pressing her lips firmly against his. The barest whispers of desperation increased, second by second, as time went on, he noted. That which she required from him became obvious, as her grasp did not relent and the sincere and haunting gleam of her eye told him all that he needed to know. She called the shots, and like a good husband, he followed her lead. They laid along the leaves and grass of the meadow’s ground, the azure hum of firefly light suspended above them, their only companion within this tryst of starlight desire. Andon wrapped one arm underneath Jaina, drawing her close to him as they fell deeper into their kiss and he leaned atop her. Their fingers entwined with one another, and he lifted her arm up above her head as they lay, gently pinning her hand to the ground. Though his lips lay claim to hers, he continued to whisper to her.

 

I never stopped being yours-

 

Jaina’s free hand ran her fingers through his hazel brown hair and tugged downward, breaking his train of thought and pulling his face closer to hers. There was no more time for words now, only the exchanging of heat, under the starlit night.

 

***

 

Andon did not dream, nor did he sleep; not since the Room of Infinite Thrones. But tonight, he did both. Our Traveler awoke to a reality that was so much better than any dream could dream to be. Wrapped around each other beneath the warmth of his cloak, he held what was most precious to him in all creation. He awoke before she did and drank every second with her. He had spent so many eons alone, he had nearly forgotten what it was like to feel: the sensation of her bare skin pressed against his, the pleasant tickling of her brandy brown locks as they draped across him in a tousled mess, and the gentle rise and fall of her slumbering chest against his. He had been to many places that have been described as “heaven”, but none of them compared to this moment.

 

Hazel-gray eyes traced every line and curve of Jaina as he watched over her. He dared not move, fearing any stirring would ruin the perfection of this moment. But all good things must come to an end, and he had hope they would have many more moments like this to share. The backs of his fingers gently brushed her hair out of her face, and auburn-green eyes opened to meet his gaze, giving him the sweetest sleepy smile in at least a thousand different timelines. He did the only thing he could: smile and kiss her. He met her gaze for a few seconds longer, before turning his head slightly to his right, in the direction of the temple. Hazel-gray eyes washed over with a momentary flush of opaque white, and his eyes squinted slightly, as if witnessing something beyond conceivable sight. He slowly exhaled, his eyes returning to normal.

 

“We have to get up,” his voice was calm, but purposeful. “Emily is going to need her Aunt and Uncle, soon.”

 

Years of instinct took over, and each stood to swiftly redress and prepare for what was coming. However, our Traveler was able to do so while exchanging several coy moments of eye contact; there was even a smile or two, go figure. They were ready in moments. Andon placed his hand on Jaina’s shoulder and caught her glance.

 

“We have to go back. Take a breath.”

 

From their perspective, the air around them became distorted and stretched with a dull flash of light. If one looked closely enough, tiny threads of reality could be observed unweaving themselves from the fabric of space and being rewoven into a different point in time. Gone were they from the Meadow That Held Its Breath in Time, and once more returned to the near boundaries of the temple. It was a sensationless excursion through existence, but startling, if one did not know what to expect. With lightsaber drawn and fury being unleashed, stood Emily Skywalker.

 

Andon surveyed what was happening in an instant, confirming everything he had already witnessed, taking a moment to understand the intricate connections being formed. Emily had destroyed the ysalamiri, but he reached out with his senses, searching for any creatures that may be hiding among the chaos. A few stragglers hid within the bowels of the shuttle and at the outer reaches of the battle; a twist of his mind undid them. The Force was going to be their ally on this day. Uninterrupted.

 

Her attack had demanded a counter, and a volley of fire erupted toward her direction. A sensation of threat surrounding Emily echoed in his mind; Andon extended his arm out toward her. Blaster bolts hung suspended in the air a dozen meters before Emily, in a wall of pinpoint crimson light. The magnetic packets containing the tibanna gas began to break down, causing a wash of steam to trickle out as contact was made with the humid air of Yavin IV. A flick of his wrist sent the blaster bolts back to their origin of deliverance. Whether or not the owners of the bolts were fast enough to dodge them was entirely irrelevant; he didn’t care what happened to them, only that his niece was safe. Through the background cacophony of explosions, Andon called out to Emily.

 

“I don’t know what’s up with the tin soldiers and creepy tentacle monsters in bath robes, but we’re here to party.”

 

Within the fog of battle, the outline of a man could be seen next to Jaina. The right-side of his face was scarred and his black cloak billowed in the currents of war. If Emily were to reach out, she would detect a Jedi Master, long-thought to be dead. If she looked closer, she would sense his Jedi soul imbued with the essence of a Sith from long-ago, carrying the darkside arrogance that could only belong to one John Skywalker. And if she delved further into his aura… well, that was a story for another time. Right now, there was a fight to win.

 

The Calvary had arrived for Emily: Aunt Jaina and Uncle Andon.

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Only the soldiers seemed to have been surprised when the rubble exploded upwards as they retreated, spinning on their heels to address the threat. A number of the retreating soldiers never got the chance to focus on the Consort's emergence as larger chunks of the rubble crashed down upon them, killing them outright. Zarl and the cloaked figure continued their silent march, giving the events unfolding behind them only a cursory glance as the shuttle lowered far enough for them to climb aboard.

 

She is of no consequence, stay your weapons.

 

The voice rung out in the minds of all those present, including Emily and Roe'gall. The soldiers that remained instantly lowered their blasters and turned to sprint fully back towards the landing area where the rest of the platoon was waiting. As the shuttle settled, a large chunk of the rubble was thrown towards the shuttle, crashing noisily into the outer casing of one of the shuttle's engines, the connection of metal and stone sparking as the rock fell to the soil of Yavin IV, crushing a helpless trooper under it. Zarl did not look back before he climbed aboard the shuttle, followed by twelve of the troopers. The hooded figure turned, watching as a majority of the soldiers who had progressed atop the rubble were crushed, slashed, trampled, and chewed to pieces. As a second large chunk of rubble was thrown haphazardly at the shuttle, the green tentacles again shot from his heavy sleeves, shooting into the sky and catching the chunk before it could find a target, then letting it drop harmlessly to the ground once more.

 

The remaining soldiers from the excursion to the rubble continued to flee towards him, even as the Consort of Quietus ducked behind a large chunk of rubble. The troopers used the respite to continue filing into the shuttle. Nine had been lost in the emergence of the Consort, and the hooded man stayed.

 

"Return the prize Zarl." The voice spoke from the man once more. Zarl nodded and yelled within the shuttle for the pilots to leave, and a moment later the shuttle was beginning to rise once more towards the sky, thrusting at full power even with the minor damage to its engine.

 

“I don’t know what’s up with the tin soldiers and creepy tentacle monsters in bath robes, but we’re here to party.”

 

It was the voice of the Celestial that caused the hooded man to turn finally, to appraise the new arrival. And from beneath the hood came a wicked smile.

 

"The mighty Celestial entity, at a loss for what is happening right under his gaze... how quaint."

 

As though the familiarity with the being that had once been Andon was not enough to unnerve, the hooded man reached up and pulled the hood back to reveal his face for the first time.

 

The very same face that the Celestial was wearing; scared right side of his face, hazel hair which was trimmed much more closely than the Celestial. The major difference however, was the where the Celestial's eyes were hazel-gray, the hooded man's were glowing a very bright green, to the point that the eyes appeared to be little more than bastions of green fire that spilled out onto the face of the man.

 

"So intent upon breaking existence to find her that you never thought to care what you unleashed in the process. Did you know? That she who you would break everything for, was dead when you began your tirade? But I suppose I really must thank you for setting me free after so long within that cage..."

 

The firey green eyes shifted to Jaina as she approached beside Andon, and the smile spread wider.

 

"Oh wait! The debt is already paid. You must know by now; you who can see everything, that it was I who brought her back from the death that she had embraced after you abandoned her."

 

The man's head shifted slightly, aiming more towards where Emily had chosen to hide, the voice growing louder so that both Emily and Jaina could hear.

 

"That's right Emily... Your precious UNCLE is the one who set me loose upon this galaxy, who allowed me to tear into your flesh and take from you what you held most dear..."

 

The eyes again jumped to Jaina, the smile twisting to one of hidden knowledge."...In more than one way it seems."

 

The man looked back at the Celestial, and snickered. "I'm afraid you'll have to party without me however. Clearly you all have much to talk about Too-de-loo.

 

The fire in the man's eyes flared out, revealing the hazel-gray eyes beneath as he momentarily stumbled in place. He glanced around panicked for a moment, catching sight of Andon, and Jaina, and the jungle that surrounded them. And then without warning the man screamed, grabbing at his temples, as he fell to his knees. Before anyone, even the Celestial could react, the green glow returned, emanating from the man's screaming mouth, his ears, nose, and began to creep in around the edges of his eyes. Then all at once, the scream was silenced as the man's entire head cracked like a nut along the scar that was mirrored on the face of the Celestial, before his entire head exploded in green fire.

 

By the time the man's body hit the ground fully, there was nothing left above the shoulders, and perhaps more crushingly the Gamma-class shuttle was gone from the sky.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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“Full disclosure, the most impressive thing witnessed was the first usage of “Too-de-loo”, by any being within the universe, in about nine centuries. Record was held by a Zabrak grandma leaving Church Bingo,” he casually shook his head in disbelief. “What a run.”

 

The statement was irreverent and highly inappropriate for the situation at hand: only confirming that it was truly the Jedi, Andon Colos, that walked among them now. If, Jedi was a comprehensive enough term to describe what he had become, that is. It wasn’t. The Traveler turned his head skyward, gazing at the departure vector of the Gamma-class shuttle as it disappeared into the upper reaches of the atmosphere. His eyes softened and the corner of his mouth turned upward into a lopsided grin, as if he knew the punchline of the joke, before the set-up had been delivered. The shuttle had escaped the atmosphere, but Emily’s assault had done more damage than previously assumed.

 

“Ruptured fuel line explosion in 3… 2… 1,” a tiny speck of light in the lower reaches of Yavin IV’s orbit plumed and winked out of existence. “And boom goes the dynamite.”

 

A few seconds later, faint streaks of light danced across the horizon, marking the debris of the shuttle being unceremoniously immolated as it re-entered the moon’s atmosphere.((Yeah, no. Not up to you to decide if the shuttle goes kaboom, Celestial entity or not. Sorry. --RM)) Andon called out to Emily and Jaina. “Guess we’ll never know what was in that fashionable satchel, now.”

 

It was easy to be lost within the elation of being reunited with his wife and niece, forgetting the burden that he had carried so long during his perpetual odyssey through eternity. He was alive, and his heart was full: it was enough for him. However, his joy was not a consensus shared between the trio that were left alone on the moon. A tangible anguish hovered in the air around the three, absconding away with the anticipation this moment should have contained, leaving behind only the shroud of doubt and pain.

 

“Emily...”

 

Hazel-gray eyes searched her over as he began his belayed and intrepid steps to approach her. Much had changed about her in the years they had spent apart, after she had last departed from him on Corellia. It must have been a strange sight for Emily to see her Uncle unchanged, as if he had become suspended in time, visiting from a memory of long ago. But it was indeed Andon, carrying the same essence of spirit and kindness of eyes that she had known her entire life. He titled his head to the side and his eyes gained an almost imperceptible squint as he looked upon her from but a few feet away. Emily carried a wound deeper than any scar a mortal body could bear. He stepped closer, with a gentleness even he was unaware was capable of being expressed, and slowly reached out to her. The tips of his fingers lightly grazed her stomach, tracing the lines of a saber mark that had pierced to the heart of her being. He mentally shuddered as the wash of what it entailed passed through him. Emily had been robbed of something sacred and intimate, in the most vile and cruel manner. Across the tapestry of time and space, every version of Andon experienced the inexplicable shattering of his heart for her. In its wake, a deep mourning lamented throughout the expanse of eternity.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

His fingertips retreated from the phantom pain left behind by the scar upon her womb, and he delicately placed his hand against the back of neck, pulling her into an embrace. He who had been gone among the stars for so long, had no right to affection from those he had left behind. Yet, a part of him was still human, and it was his niece. Andon could only offer her an embrace, hoping it still contained the same solace of protection that it did long ago, when Emily was but a girl with eyes too smart for her age. A flush of rage flowed through the currents of his aura as the haunting memory of Emily's torment became his to carry with her. The reckoning for this Cult was nigh.

 

He retreated from Emily, turning to face the body of Not-Quite-Andon as he lay collapsed in a crumpled heap upon the jungle floor. He stood there for a moment, midnight cloak billowing in the humid breeze as the stench of battle filled his nostrils, noting all the death and destruction that the Cult had left behind on this world. Utterly uncivilized, he mused. His right arm hung casually down at his sides, but curiously his fingers began moving in a rhythmic pattern to the tune of an unheard melody within the winds that blew through the valley. An even curiouser thing happened, as the body of Not-Quite-Andon began to stir and move, retracing the movements that had occurred just moments ago. The Traveler had created a pocket in time, recreating that events that had just unfolded. The body moved backwards in time past the emerald smoldering of its skull, unsplittling the head and making it whole once more along the foundry of the familiar scar. Andon manipulated time, reversing the direction of its current and observing its components as easily as one would play back a holovid at a data terminal. Andon paused at the moment the entity lowered its hood to reveal a face he knew well. The Celestial had become a curious being, indeed.

 

“See, this isn’t even a good likeness,” he turned to Jaina and Emily, pointing at the scar adorning the right side of its face. “This scar is an exact 90-degree angle, everyone knows my scar is off-kilter at an adorable 93 degrees of imperfection.”

 

He twitched his finger and the being progressed forward in this visage of time, giving its Dastardly Monologue of Insidious Intent. Boring. Andon bypassed it, going to the interesting part, where the skull cracked upon along the scar and revealed something within the all consuming viridian fire. There, he was sure had seen it before, but now it was clear to Emily and Jaina as well. There was an inhuman face within the hearth of the flames.

 

“Now, which one of these little cosmic pricks are you.”

 

The Traveler extended his arm out toward the entity, rotating his wrist so the palm of his hand faced skyward. His index finger curled quickly towards his wrist, beckoning the viridian energy forward from its paradox of time. Hazel-gray eyes became opaque within the folds of bending reality to his whim, gleaning that which he desired to know from the energy's depth. This small fragment of the entity submitted entirely to Andon's will, holding no sway or influence within the palm of his hand. It was detached from its master, a mere echo of the power it once exhumed.

 

“It’s definitely not a celestial. Its power is old, but it’s bound to the laws of this universe. It does not tread the Shores of Infinity, not like-”, he paused his sentence, thinking it better to not finish it.

He shifted the fragment of the specter from one palm to the next, looking deeply upon it. Andon reached into the depths of existence, searching for a moment that evaded the forefront of his mind. Something was unsettling about how familiar this creature was to him. He knew this entity. Our celestial hero exhaled, turning to face the girls.

 

“I met him in my travels,” his voice was distant, as if speaking from within the memory of a dream he could not quite recall. “There was a… structure… and within its bowels, was a chamber. Inside the chamber, was a cage. This entity was in it.” He shifted the energy fragment back into his right hand, titling his head to the left as he dwelled upon all the threads of reality that were woven to it.

 

**

 

His thoughts drifted distantly, to the Cage Within the Bowels of Forever. Andon had walked the halls leading to the door, almost afraid to open the chamber and gaze upon what was inside. He grasped the handle and turned it. A slow and visceral creak echoed throughout the hall, signaling the lock’s release as the door swung forward. Inside was a lone cage, containing a yellow songbird. A light shone upon it, without a source to be observed. The bird was facing away from Andon and when it heard his entrance, it turned its head to face him. Andon would never forget the smile that crept across the songbird’s face, when it gazed upon his scar...

 

**

 

His thoughts returned to the here and now.

 

“It beckoned me to set it free, with promise of a great reward. ‘The only reward worthy of me’, it had said.” A flicker of vibrant bronze cast itself across his pupils before fading, “It promised me Jaina… but I denied him."

 

The Traveler's eyes dropped to the ground briefly, as if recalling details better left in the past.

 

"There was something... unsettling... about him. So, I left him caged and locked the door behind me.”

 

There was no more to be learned from this moment. With the slithering orb of energy still within his control, Andon rubbed his palms together vigorously, breaking down the bonds holding the fragment of the entity whole. He drew a deep breath and blew outward into his palms, scattering the discarded molecules of the entity into the ether, never to be seen again. There was no more visage in time to see and the temporal paradox, too, returned as he had found it. Andon turned to face Jaina and Emily.

 

“Tell me more about this cult.”

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Emily was just about to lean out and block the flurry of blaster bolts that had been unleashed, when suddenly they froze in mid-air. Her head whipped around and she saw Jaina and—she caught her breath—Andon. His presence was bright in the Force, and he bubbled with power, wielding it casually. Morthos seemed furious but trying to hide it, his words attempting to sow doubt, but Emily knew better than to believe a word he said. The only hint of possible truth was that Morthos had brought Andon back. That was the logical conclusion, one that Emily herself had considered only half an hour ago. But that didn’t mean that Morthos had done so deliberately. No, she thought as the possessed being’s skull was rent in two by the being’s green tendrils. She got the distinct feeling that, despite having gotten away with the artifact, things here hadn’t gone quite as the being had wanted.

 

She shut down her lightsaber and returned it to her belt, waving Roe’gall back. Pushing strands of her dust-covered hair out of her face, she glanced at the sky. She knew she didn’t have time to make this a heart-felt reunion. They needed to get off this moon immediately and follow the shuttle before it got too far. Hopefully the debris she had flung at it would have damaged the engines enough for them to be leaking trace particles that could be tracked. But before she could open her mouth to get her aunt and uncle to go with her, there was a flicker of light, and the shuttle popped out of realspace. She sighed. Well, now there’s no rush. The particle trail would dissipate over time, but they had a good two hours before it’d vanish completely.

 

She turned back towards her aunt and uncle. Her delight at seeing him alive and in the flesh warred with the enormous sense of guilt she carried, and the conflict made her uncertain of her reception. But then Andon spoke her name, and for a brief moment, she was five years old again, playing games with him in the hanger on Raxus Prime. He approached slowly, pain in his swirled eyes--the only eyes in the galaxy that matched hers for color--and then she was back in the present, his fingers ghosting over the scars that no amount of bacta had yet healed. And as she met his eyes, she saw his sorrow, and she knew that he knew. So when he embraced her, she hugged him back. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry I abandoned you on Corellia, that I wasn’t strong enough to share your fate. I don’t know what’s happened to you in these past years, but I’m sorry you had to face it alone.” She gave him an extra squeeze. She was truly glad he was back, no matter what pain she’d feel when she inevitably lost him again. Maybe that’s the lesson after all, a quiet voice whispered inside her.

 

As they drew apart, Emily’s eyes flicked to Jaina. Her aunt had to be on top of the moon—or was she? Old loves returning from the grave was never easy; Emily knew that better than anyone else. But something in Jaina’s eyes seemed to indicate a sense of happiness, tentative maybe, but present. Emily’s heart went out to her, and she tried to send her an encouraging look.

 

Andon had approached the figure that had taken his face, and Emily moved over to stand next to her uncle. Nonchalantly, as if it were easy, Andon wiggled his fingers, and the scene played out again in reverse. The sheer amount of power running through her uncle astounded his niece. Whatever had happened to her uncle, whatever he had discovered during his sojourn among the stars, he had changed. These abilities…they weren’t natural. It fascinated Emily, and she longed to question him about it. But now was not the time.

 

She focused her attention back on the figure as it re-exploded in front of them. Andon seemed uneasy, sharing about his previous encounter with the being in some sort of extra-planar prison cell. He glanced at both of them, asking for more information, and Emily nodded. “His name is Morthos. This is the first time I’ve actually come face-to-face with him, as it were.” She paused, sorting through what they knew to display it in a logical progression.

 

“The Cult first came to my attention when I was on Korriban, several months ago.” Had it really been so short of a time? “I caught them doing a ritual, raising Darth Quietus back to life. They had intended for him to be a vessel, a host for Morthos. But they made two errors during the ritual: one, they assumed one of the relics that had been buried with him actually belonged to him, and two, they let me get involved.” The ghost of a smile crossed her face. If only things had stayed so simple. “Quietus returned as himself, and because of the relic, Jaina also was brought forth from death…with some other side-effects, too, apparently.”

 

Her eyes flicked to her aunt and back again to Andon. “We also discovered that they had been holding another Sith, Darth Alarune—the Lady Alora—captive. The information we retrieved from the Cultists on Korriban indicated several other locations where the Cult was working, or at least had visited. Tython, Lehon, Byss, Coruscant, Dathomir, and,” she gestured to the moon beneath their feet, “Yavin IV. We immediately began seeking clues to figure out what this Cult was up to. We found clues on Coruscant tying them to Faust, or rather, Faust’s ritual that he used to attempt to destroy the Force. It seems they found him to be a disappointment. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re trying to recreate something along those lines, but it’s difficult to say for sure.

 

“At that point,” she hesitated for a moment as bad memories washed over her, “the others went to Dathomir to follow up on the clue there, while I returned to Raxus Prime to find that the Cult had ransacked the place, searching for something in my father’s library.” Belatedly, she realized she had never followed up with Xae to see what the Cult had taken. She shook her head. “I was already on their radar by that point, but I was returning to Coruscant when they caught up with me.” Her hand ghosted over her abdominal scars. Whatever Andon knew about what had happened there was enough. She wasn’t about to go into it again. “After I healed, I met up with Jaina again to--” she changed what she was going to say at the last minute. Did Andon know what had happened to his daughter? “To come here,” she finished. “Clearly, the Cult was still interested in what was going on here. Morthos called that relic ‘his’. I wish we had gotten to see what was on it. But with the temple gone, I’m not sure there are any more clues left here.

 

“Oh,” she snapped her fingers, “one more thing.” She shifted her gaze to include both Jaina and Andon. “That woman, Cassandra, that we found in the temple? She was an archeologist for a university on Coruscant. I don’t think she was working directly for the Cult, but Morthos possessed her, too, so any items she had sent back would be suspicious.”

 

They weren’t left standing with many clues. They could follow up with the university, but other than that, it seemed like their visit to Yavin IV had pretty much been a waste.

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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Head spinning heart beating breathing alive, warmth and need and want and swirling and falling and bracing and arching and laughing and gasping and exulting.

 

There was no time to think, no space to pause, her chest constricted as her heart swelled to bursting, and yet, she could finally breathe. Desire crept along her skin, leaving burning footsteps like anchors embedded within her, faultlines causing tremors as her muscles quivered and her body shuddered. Lifetimes of cosmic longing were bound up in the salt of his kisses and the demand of his fingertips, and the celestial entity that had replaced her husband evaporated in response to her appetite.

 

The shivers of his whisper against her neck were all the proof she needed that Andon Colos was, indeed, human.

 

Like the twin suns of Tatooine, they rose and fell, chasing one another around the horizon for what could have been lifetimes or only the blink of an eye. The ichor of nirvana pulsed through her veins, and as Yavin kept its peace for them, Jaina forgot herself slowly and all at once, pulchritudinously immersing herself in the tide of Andon's affections, floating in his ocean, lullabied by his waves.

 

And when the storm within her had quieted, the sacred tenderness between them susurrated peace and stillness to her soul, the current of belonging carried her into the deepest sleep she could have ever remembered, curled atop his chest, as if the rise and fall of oxygenation were as the waves of an endless and infinite sea.

 

---

 

As usual, Jaina reflected sardonically, he constantly underplayed the severity of what had occurred before him, and he received the commensurate number of eye-rolls that such dismissive commentary deserved. The fiery green eyes of the not-Andon whose physical shell could not contain the spirit that possessed him had meant something to her that she could not put a finger on: that which seemed utterly unconcerning to him awakened a restless dread within her. Instinctively, she reached for the shuttered center of her heart, but found it still tentatively gated against her, a silence she could respect for the time being, as much as she still found it dissatisfactory.

 

Emily’s words about the Cult did not fully land on her ears, however, as the dust and rubble began to settle in the damp jungle air and she could see into the clearing where the Traitor’s Hope was berthed.

 

“No, no, no, no, no, kriff,” she yelled, breaking into a sprint, leaving Andon and Emily behind her as the Force enhanced her speed, as smoke and sparks erupted into the atmosphere from a grievous wound punched in the side of her safest place. A tight sense of panic twisted her stomach into knots as she paused before the YT-1930, staring agape at the curling black damage that wound its way around the side of the ship. Without getting into the belly of the ship, there was no way of knowing how much of the damage was reparable. A single trembling hand touched fingertips to her lips, determined tears welling in her eyes as she began to wade up the mangled landing ramp amidst shriveled metal and the burning scent of ionized air, her danger sense prickling uncomfortably.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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Morthos.

 

Yes, that was his name. He listened to Emily recount all the events that she and Jaina had with the cult and the adventure to discover where their true intentions led. His niece spoke of many individuals that he remembered, as if from another lifetime. In a fragment of a moment, Andon lost himself to his thoughts, a swirling cascade of faces from long ago drifting through his consciousness in a gentle rush of emotion.

 

Alora.

 

His thoughts went to the day they met, standing along the wake of the burning forests of Borleias. A game had started between the two of them, with the rules making for a consequence he could have never foreseen. This was the fallout of a brash Jedi Knight, full of power and lacking wisdom. The setting sun and smoldering tree line had framed the relationship they would share for as long as the other lived.

 

John.

 

As he listened to Emily speak of the Cult’s incursion into his fortress on Raxus Prime, a distant smile couldn’t help but form within the corners of Andon’s mouth. His friend. His brother. Andon longed for the days in which his left eye could view all that John did and recount his memories and feelings as easily as one could turn the pages within a journal. The journal was blank now and every time he reached out to stir the bond he shared with the Sith Master, there was only crushing darkness. Emily would never know how much our Traveler missed her father. He still thought of John often, hoping he had found peace within the folds of the eternity.

 

Jaina.

 

His heart leapt into his throat at the mere mention of her name. Though she was here with him now, ages had passed through the currents of time in which he could not even remember the letters of his wife’s name. Hearing it aloud was still melodic to him, a reassuring flutter that he could not quell, nor did he desire to see its impact silenced. Each time her name was whispered, he was alive again. A flicker of dread had scurried across the fringe of Jaina’s thoughts and he turned his head to face her. The Traveler tilted his head to the right, imperceptibly, as he looked upon the face of his wife. Andon was listening to Emily, but the touch of his mind brushed that of his wife’s. She had retreated within the walls of her heart and he found himself once more standing at the framework of the gate, his hand tentatively resting along the door. Waiting, always waiting.

 

An abrupt scream from Jaina broke him from the tracing of her thoughts, hazel-gray eyes peering beyond the debris and smoke of battle to note a Corellian freighter in the distance. His inmost was a tranquil and infinite ocean, but the sheer presence of his beloved had an unaccounted side effect: feelings. For a trembling blink within time, a flush of power escaped through a fissure along his boundless presence, before he was able to recall it. The very nature of humanity stood at odds with everything the Celestial had become in his travels across infinity. He had grown absolute, but love had undone all that. The tendrils of time wrapping themselves about his will and the expanse of the eternal that now dwelled within were eschewed by the ichor of mortality that had begun to stir when his eyes first rested upon her beauty. Under the azure light of the valley, Jaina had broken something within his resolve. For the briefest of instances, he had become unnerved. It was becoming clear that, perhaps, it would be more difficult to possess both the infinite and humane than originally assumed.

 

In a blur, Jaina had taken off toward the ship. A gentle squeeze of her uncle’s grip grasped Emily’s hand before he gave chase after his wife, taking his niece with him. Though the Jedi Master had used the Force to enhance her speed as she rushed toward the Traitor’s Hope at an impossible speed, the Traveler surpassed her footsteps, erasing the gap of her head start. Andon turned his head to gaze at her as she ran, her form suspended in time to his perception. Brandy brown locks flowed behind the Jedi, the strands frozen in a soundless vacuum that desperately attempted to keep pace with her sprint. Auburn-green eyes narrowed in focus and lips that made his heart race, formed into a thin line to hide the panic that simmered just beneath the surface. He slowed his footfalls and watched her dash before him, reaching the ship first. With a rush of wind, Andon and Emily arrived a few moments after her.

 

As she began to venture up the landing ramp into the ship, he was at her side in an instant. Jaina felt her husband reach out and take her free hand into his own: his hand was rough, but his touch was warm. Hazel-gray eyes simultaneously scanned the ship and the expanse of existence, gazing deeply into both realms, searching for something just outside his reach. Panels sparked with electric fury and debris lay strewn about the ship’s corridors, marring the haven that the Traitor’s Hope had been for Jaina. His mind wandered along the hull’s exterior, the blackened metal warped and agape from the attack of the shuttle’s concussion missile. Andon reached out and traced his fingertips along the fire-licked wall of the starboard side corridor, leaving lines in the ash that followed the path. The ship was not in good condition… she had been mortally wounded. Key word: had been. He smiled to himself.

 

The ship spoke to him, whispering to him about what it desired to be whole again. To his cosmic gaze, broken bulkheads were stamped with “WELD HERE”. Damaged wires, frayed beyond recognition called out with “SOLDER HERE” and “SPLICE TO REACTIVATE”. As he walked along the ship, ravaged electronics hummed “BYPASS THIS, WIRE HERE”. Exposed servos and stabilizers lured him in with “THIS GOES HERE, THAT GOES THERE”. Across the entire ship, she was speaking to him through the hurt, knowing she could be made to soar among the stars again.

 

Andon stopped before a gaping hole in the exterior hull that allowed a startling amount of Yavin IV's sunlight to shine into the corridor. A discomforting amount of twisted and jagged metal protruded downward, blocking their path moving forward. The is the wound that had pierced into the heart of the ship. He touched the first petal of steel with the tip of his index finger, effortlessly pushing it upward where it belonged. He did the same for each piece until the corridor was no longer blocked and the hole was mostly patched. Shrapnel from the hole had peppered other parts of the ship and some fragments had simply been obliterated within the initial explosion. It was almost impossible to repair. Almost.

 

He laid the palm of his hand flat against the re-positioned petals of steel that filled the gap of the hole. A quiet energy began to emanate from his touch, drawing the fragments of shrapnel that pierced the interior of the ship out into the air. They floated delicately upward, finding the gaps and slivers that they originally occupied before the attack. Ash and carbon drenched the interior of the ship, but small clouds of atomized particles began to lift themselves from the floors and walls. They too drifted upward, the particles recusing themselves to their homes of structural integrity. All across the exterior, interior, and surrounding area of the Traitor’s Hope, fragments and particles floated through the air and returned to where they belonged. The holes and gaps created by marred metal and transparisteel responded to the call of his touch, moving to the current of his will. With a groan and flash of soft warmth, the sub-atomic particles that provided strength and structure to the exterior hull were once again made whole. The YT-1930 was again worthy of breaking through the atmosphere and journeying into the depths of space.

 

The quality of the journey, however, still left something to be desired.

 

Andon let go of Jaina’s hand and entered the access hatch leading to the sublight engines and hyperdrive. He ran his touch along the machinery, feeling and listening for the ship to speak to him. The hyperdrive would require much work, but the auxiliary hyperdrive remained undamaged. They could still travel among the stars and use the time to repair the main drive. His hand rested along the sublight engines and they warmed to his touch, purring to life. He turned to look upon his wife and the scar along his face softened as his mouth grew into a lopsided grin. The grin quickly turned into a frown as the sublight engines sputtered and died, abruptly.

 

“That's what you think, sweetheart.”

 

A swift strike with the heel of his hand brought the engines back to life with a roar, before they settled into an idle. An idle that now possessed a disconcerting amount of vibration and a clunking sound that he couldn’t quite identify. It was ugly, but the Traitor’s Hope was worthy of the sky. Albeit, it would be closer to limping across the stars than it would be to gliding.

 

“We should probably take off while we can,” his voice was light. “We can fix the rest of the ship on the way.”

 

Jaina looked at him, waiting for him to finish the thought. He looked at her but was unable to tell what she was thinking in that moment. The smile from his face began to fade and the perpetual light within his hazel-gray eyes dimmed.

 

“Take me to Tirzah’s body.”

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Emily was nonplussed by Andon's complete lack of a response. He seemed a little scatterbrained. But she supposed he had just returned from death, and he was bound to be a little mentally jet-lagged. He took her hand, and suddenly they were Force-sprinting behind Jaina. But it was more than a simple Force-sprint. Emily couldn't put her finger on it, but it was almost as if Andon was tapping into a mere inkling of the vast power reserves he had access to.

 

As they arrived at the Traitor's Hope--or, what was left of it--she felt her anger stir again. Andon dropped her hand, immediately joining Jaina inside, leaving Emily to examine the ship from the exterior. Sorrow eeked through her, sorrow for her aunt's loss, and refreshed sorrow at having lost her own ship to the Cult. The Shadow's Shine had been her home, and her last connection to her mother. From what Emily understood, the Hope was just as much or more meaningful to Jaina.

 

Her glance fell to her own ship, parked next to the Hope. It was in worse condition. "Really?" she sighed. It looked like they'd have to take Andon's ship. The Hope could possibly be repaired in time, but her own brand new vessel was done for. Well, maybe we can salvage some parts.

 

A whine from Roe'gall caused her to turn around, and when she did, her gaze immediately was riveted to the Traitor's Hope. The ship was healing itself: bulkheads growing back together, severed wires reattaching themselves, clouds of ash extracted themselves and billowed away into the atmosphere. Her senses told her that this was a working of the Force, but it was deeper, more wild and raw than she had ever felt it. Curiosity and the desire to know how this had occurred clutched at her, and she found herself darting up the boarding ramp only to see Andon with his hand on an interior bulkhead, his eyes almost drifting closed and an expression of utter calm on his face. As if he hadn't just put a ship back together in seconds as if it were made from a child's building blocks.

 

Power like that...Emily had never encountered it. She had spent years studying ancient Force sects, hidden Force powers, and forbidden knowledge from both sides of the Force, but she had never seen anything like what her uncle had just done. It awoke a fire inside her, a desire and thirst for the knowledge he had. For a moment, the old familiar sensation took her by surprise. With all that had happened, she hadn't thought the pursuit of knowledge for it's own sake would be something she was ever interested in anymore. It was...good that she felt it again. It felt like some part of the old Emily still lived on.

 

She was about to speak up, when Andon killed the moment by asking to be taken to Tirzah's body. The Gray Master grimaced. That wasn't going to end well. But she supposed he had the right. "We also need to go to Coruscant to investigate that museum," she added quietly. "I'm not sure we'll find anything of use here anymore."

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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The casual display of raw power that her husband unleashed on the weakened vessel was overwhelming enough, as she watched the metal splice and rejoin like new skin growth below a scab. Reeling, her mind struggling to grasp what he had just performed before her, she stared at him, brows knitted together as though he were a foreign entity entirely, the words of his question barely making sense to her. For a fleeting moment, she swore that a flicker of hurt flashed across his eyes as she looked upon him like this, but it was too brief to note. Trance-like, she turned away from where Andon and Emily both waited for some word from her, some assent that she knew where to take them next. Her fingers absent-mindedly traced the wall as she walked, her expression blank, moving through the corridors of her home.

 

He knew about Tirzah; of course he knew about Tirzah. He had known things he had no way of knowing, he had done things he had no way of doing, there were things about him that she couldn’t possibly understand but he seemed desperate to show her. Would he do for Tirzah what he had done for the ship? Could he weave the fragile strands of their family back into a worthwhile tapestry?

 

Though the deadpan expression on her face did not fade, the spike of pain she knew was being magnetically drawn to the center of her core finally hit, piercing her heart slowly and completely. Tirzah was gone, and it was her fault. She wasn’t strong enough to protect her, wasn’t keen enough to find her, and what was worse, she had a massive target painted on her back now that she occupied such a visible role of power in the Jedi Order. The reality of her daughter’s disappearance and death, that which she had pushed to the rear of her consciousness, came back full-force with the investigation of Andon’s question.

 

Sinking into the well-worn pilot’s chair, she clutched a hydrospanner limply in her hand, trusting the readout to tell her the extent of the repairs still needed. It would be a welcome distraction, a needed respite--

 

The hydrospanner clattered to the floor as Jaina slumped over the control panel, her head in her arms, sobbing as though it would have some effect on the dull ache in her heart, the open wound in her soul that represented the child who had been ripped from her arms prematurely.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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The longer Jaina remained silent, the more Emily’s heart sank. She had hoped that Andon’s casual mention of Tirzah would be a blow that Jaina’s heart could handle, but she knew better. She knew that even on good days, wounds like that could be ripped open in a moment’s notice.

 

They followed Jaina to the cockpit, both of them watching her like she was a stick of detonite. Sure enough, Andon’s words had lit the fuze, and even Jaina’s strength wasn’t enough to overcome the emotional explosion. As her aunt slumped over the controls, Emily was by her side in an instant. Her hand found Jaina’s shoulder, and she sank into the copilot’s chair, not leaving any room for Jaina’s husband. She raised her eyes to his, finding that his gaze was already resting upon, gentle as ever. It was utterly irritating. Rather, she gave Andon a not-so-subtle glare for his lack of tact, and wrapped her arms around her aunt.

 

Her own tears stung the corners of her eyes, and her throat burned as she held the other woman. All the platitudes that she wished she could say and mean were left unsaid. They meant nothing anyway, and both women knew it. Nothing could ameliorate the pain of losing a child.

 

Finally, she said the only thing she could. “You have to keep trying,” she whispered, choking on her words. “Believe me, it takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart.”

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"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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A gentle pressure on her niece’s arm was all the acknowledgment Jaina could find it in herself to give. For the briefest flicker of a moment, the pain of her great loss was superseded by the reticence to appear before Emily in her current state. The comfort she had offered what seemed like mere hours ago was being paid to her in return, and it did as much for her as it likely had for Emily: which is to say, not much.

 

The whispered reassurances did spark a question in her mind, however, and as Jaina stood, turning to face Andon silently, not bothering to brush the falling tears from her cheeks, her eyes searched his for the answers she needed.

 

Stepping past Emily, her hand brushing her niece’s shoulder affectionately, she fell into Andon’s arms, pressing her face against his chest. “Can you find her?” she whispered. The thought had no relevance to the whereabouts of her body: Jaina knew that the girl’s corpse was tucked away in Skye’s care. Looking up to meet his gaze, in the boundless depths of the infinity contained inside Andon’s eyes, she searched for the hope she had dared not ask for.

 

Tell me that we can put it all back together, her heart pleaded, not caring whether or not he heard her. For her part, she wasn’t even sure if she was referring to the ship, their tentative reunion, or Tirzah’s life itself. Maybe all of it. Her broken heart, exhaling pain and determined beyond anyone’s assistance to do the right thing, was asking a question she had dared not ask anyone for fear of the answer. Wounded eyes begged for a reason to endure. Bid me to do the impossible, and I will.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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