Emily

As he tilted her head back, Emily’s eyes bored into his. And for the first time in years, she saw the eyes of her father. John looked out from Andon’s eyes, that knowing smirk that always haunted them there if she searched hard enough. And there was no way she could say no to those eyes. In that moment, Emily realized something about who she was. Yes, she was broken. Yes, she made mistakes. Yes, she drove people away. But there was one redeemable quality about her: she would do anything for her family. With that clarity came a sensation of rest, like the teasing of a fresh cool wind on a dry hot afternoon. She clung to it. Then Andon blinked and the moment was gone, but the memory endured. Whatever pain would come, it would come. She wasn’t going to let future pain stop her from salvaging whatever good life had left to offer her. She had just come to a decision when Andon offered one last bit of information. He tried… That knowledge was final confirmation. He had tried. He had failed, but she knew that some things couldn’t be changed. Some people couldn’t be saved. Slowly, she sank down on the bed next to him, and then slipped her arm under his, intertwining their fingers. “Thank you,” she said simply, her voice sad but steady. “I...I’m here for you as long as you want me. As long as you need me. And longer.” They sat in silence for a few more moments. Emily just treasured being near him after all these years. A few more heartbeats passed, and Emily gradually broke the silence again. “You know, it’s been 22 years today since my father died?” She untangled their hands and rose. Crossing the room, she grabbed one of her lightsabers and twisted off the end cap, revealing a small wafer. She tipped it out and crossed back over to the bed. Resuming her seat, she clicked the wafer with her fingertip and a holo appeared. It was the same holo she had had on her ship before it’s destruction--Andon and John stood in the center of the frame, twin smirks on their faces, while their wives graced their sides, grinning. “I think the Force has a wry sense of humor in it’s timing sometimes.” The image of the holo robbed the air from Andon’s lungs. He stared at it for a long while, the tips of his fingers hesitantly reaching out to graze the image of John and Sirvani, as if he could will them to life with but a touch. The trace of his fingers caused a slight distortion in the holo, causing his hand to cease its attempt and return to his side. He remembered that day well… it was the last day that the four of them were together. Before Hapes. Before The Precipice. Before The Room of Infinite Thrones. Andon draped his arm around Emily’s shoulders and pulled her close to him as they looked at the holo for untold moments together. “I miss your dad every day. It’s good that you’re staying, he would want it that way. “He’d want me to look after you.” He turned to face Emily, that familiar family smirk tracing his lips. “Because if you’re going to get into mischief, you might as well get into spectacular mischief.” No matter where he had been and what he had done, it was abundantly clear that somewhere beneath the layers of what he had become, her uncle was still the Andon of her youth. That was enough to elicit a small chuckle from her. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” She smiled wryly. “Yeah, I suppose we should stick together.” She hesitated for the briefest moment. “If only to keep all that Colos-Skywalker crazy in one place.” “Absolutely.” His smile was light and goodness, “can’t just let that kind of magic run around uninhibited. Entire worlds would revolt.” He turned his head to the wall, as if seeing something beyond the scope of Emily’s vision. Jaina was up and would be here soon. His smile grew. His wife would find them when she was ready, for now, he simply enjoyed Emily’s company.

She had just stepped out of the sanisteam when there was a knock on the door. Emily sighed. Throwing on some clothes, she heard his muffled voice on the other side of the door. She bit her lip. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now, but she had learned not to put off things like this. Besides, they were still in transit. She couldn’t avoid her uncle forever. With a gesture, she used the Force to trigger the opening mechanism on the door, her back to Andon as she brushed her wet hair. “Why shouldn’t I leave?” she asked. “Jaina doesn’t need me anymore, if she ever did. Not when she has you.” It was decidedly colder with the door open than it was with it closed, Andon had discovered. It was difficult for him to not view her as the little girl on Raxus Prime that had poured endless adoration upon him. However, he had missed most of her life, and he most likely remembered a girl that only existed within his mind when he did so. Emily was a woman, and had experienced much in his time way. Perhaps too much. “Because I need you.” His voice was tender, human in its uncertainty with how it would be taken. “I won’t make you stay, but I would like you to.” He entered the room and mindlessly traced a finger along the frame of the bunk, before leaning against it. “I’ve already missed so much of your life in my… travels. I don’t want to miss anymore with you.” There was an involuntary noise at the back of her throat, and she set the hairbrush down quickly. “You don’t need me,” she countered, trying and failing to hide the tremor of emotion in her voice. “No one needs me. It’s…” she paused, then finally turned to look him in the eye. “It’s my fault, you know. My fault that you were left to seek out answers alone. I could have gone with you. I could have helped you. And together, we would have found what you were seeking. But I abandoned you.” Her voice was full of regret and self-loathing. “Let’s be honest, all I do is make mistakes. And I care too much about you to drag you into my mistakes any longer.” Andon looked at her for a long while, processing all that Emily told him. “You know what hasn’t changed, is you’re a very bad liar.” His voice was light. “You can’t even convince yourself wholly that I don’t need you. I came back for my family, last I checked you were a part of it.” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know you would have gone with me if you could choose again. I would have taken you anywhere with me. Maybe even let you fly my ship.” Her uncle smiled as he spoke, as if old hurts had happened lifetimes ago from his perception. Perhaps they had. “But where I went… it was better that I was alone. There were many difficult choices, impossible choices, no one should have to bear the consequences with me.” Andon paused and exhaled, taking a moment to gather his words: it was uncomfortably human. “I could tell you of a great many mistakes with unimaginable catastrophe in their wake,” the cornea of hazel-gray eyes momentarily flashed a vibrant bronze before returning to their normal shade. “But life with you is not something I could ever count as a mistake.” The two were unique in the galaxy because of their eyes, the same two pairs of eyes searching the other now. “Besides, we both know I’m gonna get into trouble regardless of who I’m with. Might as well enjoy the ride with me.” Was it really so simple? Emily felt a war going on inside her. She wanted to believe him. She wanted more than anything to rekindle the familial bond between them. After all, wasn’t that why she was tagging along after Jaina this whole time? Why she was determined to help save Tirzah? Andon believed what he was saying, of that she had no doubt. But she was also practically a stranger to him. When he reached out and tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear, she hurriedly turned away. That one simple gesture set off a firestorm of emotion within her, and she almost sensed Quietus’ presence physically in the room. And with that hallucination came the other side of the argument. You’ve heard pretty words before. Promises, even. Promises that were broken once he saw who you truly are. Andon will do the same thing. It’s only a matter of time. In the end, everyone leaves. It would be better to just cut it off now. To not let herself get reattached. Better for him, and better for her. She was just opening her mouth to tell him that, when another thought occurred to her. Does that mean for the rest of your life you’re not ever going to attempt it? That you’re determined to live as a hermit, cutting yourself off from everyone left that you care about? Or are you brave enough to try? To risk getting hurt again, yes. But the moments in between the hurt...aren’t they worth it? Despite the pain and the mistakes, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t regret her time spent with Quietus or with Raia or with Nishant or even with her parents. She bit her lip. “Nothing will ever stop us from being family,” she said softly. “You’ll eventually see the truth of who I am, and it will become too much for you. I’ve seen it over and over again. But until then, you’re my uncle, and I’ll always be there for you.” She paused. “But...being near Jaina now...it’s like all my emotional wounds are being constantly torn into. She has gotten everything she ever wanted, plus everything I ever wanted on top of it. And it’s...I love her, but it’s hard to see. I don’t want jealousy to make me into someone I’m not, or to ruin what trust we’ve been able to build between us.”

The journey to Coruscant had been quiet. Emily’s desire to discover what Andon had learned during his exile had faded when she had heard the song of her dead cousin echoing throughout the corridors of the Traitor’s Hope. The melody stirred up a powerful mixture of hope, anger, and an overall creepiness that she normally associated with Sith on the caliber of Sheog. Jaina had given her a bunk, and Emily had spent most of the trip confined to it, healing Roe’gall before spending time trying to catch up on her sleep. Not that she had much success on the latter. Her heart was in turmoil within her. Eventually, she rose and headed back to the cargo area, where there was enough space for her to go through her lightsaber forms. The physical exercise had double benefits: it cleared her mind and gave her the space to work through her emotions, and it strengthened her still-not-fully-recovered body. As sweat poured down her brow, she finally realized just what exactly she was feeling. Jealousy. She wasn’t proud of it. In fact, labeling it made her feel ashamed. But there it was. Andon had returned and was dedicated to putting his relationship with Jaina back together again. One look at his eyes and it was clear how much he still loved and cared about her. And not only that, but he came back with the power to--hypothetically, anyway--bring Tirzah back from the dead. And he had focused his attention solely on his daughter without giving any thought to Emily’s own dead child. If he really has the power to bring her back, why would he only bring her back? Don’t I merit even the same chance at regaining what has been taken from me? The jealousy wiggled inside her like a flob-worm. She couldn’t help but notice that Jaina was well on her way to having everything Emily had ever wanted. She would get her daughter back, her husband back, and she had Raynuk on top of all that, in whatever way she wanted, with a special astral bond to boot. She even had belonging in an Order of beings she respected. Maybe the Force really is out to get me after all, she thought, spinning to avoid an imaginary blaster bolt. I probably deserve it anyway. But a quieter voice whispered comfort to her. That’s not how the galaxy works. It was nothing you did or didn’t do that caused all these things to happen to you. Well, maybe you should have handled things better with Quietus. But the Force is not out to make you suffer. She bit her lip. She wasn’t sure, but it was certainly tempting to believe that truth. Maybe I should leave. The thought had been crossing her mind frequently since they had left Yavin IV. She had already begun to feel like a little bit of an intruder between her aunt and uncle. Now, there would be the added bonus of not having to watch Jaina get everything at such a close range. Perhaps she should let them try to recover Tirzah on their own. Andon was uber powerful now, anyway. It wasn’t like they needed Emily’s help. She stopped, freezing her final form in place for a moment, then shut down her twin blades. She had finally taken the time to fabricate and install a crystal in the second one, and it seemed to be working fine. She hooked them back on her belt and headed back to her bunk. There was probably just enough time for a sanisteam before they landed and she’d have to figure out what to do next.

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.”

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?”

“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.

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?”

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.

The urgent caution in Emily’s eyes faded into dullness, and she leaned heavily against the rune-covered wall. For a moment, she didn’t speak, but she knew that it was only her words that could prevent Jaina from being put into a similar situation. She took a deep breath, then looked up, those dead eyes meeting her aunt’s. “They put me through hell. The Cult was hunting me. Because of my connection with Quietus.” Her voice was quiet and lacking emotion. “They tracked me down over Coruscant, grabbed my ship. I fought with everything in me, but...they captured me. Tortured me.” She swallowed and her voice dropped to a tremulous whisper. “Tore open my womb with my own lightsaber and slaughtered my baby…” The tears that had been her constant companion spilled over, but other than that, she showed dead hollowness as her only emotion. “Then they just...dumped me off with the Remnant. They assumed the Imperials would kill me or imprison me or brainwash me or whatever they’re doing to Sith these days, but one of the Imperial Knights let me go.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “Not sure she did me much of a favor.” A bit of urgency returned to the Garey Master’s face. “I won’t let them win again. They’ll hurt you if they can. They’ll hurt everyone Quietus cares about to try to get to him. And if they know about this bond you have…” She shook her head, and dropped her gaze. “Please. Don’t rush into this.” Wordlessly, Jaina crossed the gap between herself and her niece, wrapping the younger woman in an unreserved embrace. Quiet filled the ziggurat as the two women, bereaved mothers, clung to one another, simple understanding passing between them. There was something else at the root of Jaina’s urgency, but it seemed disrespectful, nigh irreverent, to Emily’s grief to brush aside the warning that she so desperately gave. “I’m not afraid,” she said quietly, the simple resolve of the light filling her words. Holding her niece at arm’s length once more, clasping both shoulders with her hands, Jaina smiled gently. “Besides, I have you to look after me.” “You will be,” Emily replied. “You should be.” Jaina’s attempt to cheer her up didn’t help at all. “I clearly am not able to look after anyone,” she retorted bitterly. “I couldn’t even--” her voice hitched, “I couldn’t even protect my own baby.” Grave sorrow filled Jaina’s features. “Neither could I,” she whispered delicately. Emily closed her eyes. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Jaina. I just...if we can do the research, find out what they were after, maybe it’ll give us a clue that will help us if---no, when--the Cult catches up with us again. Isn’t that worth a few days more of waiting?” A sudden scowl crossed Jaina’s features, and she held up a hand. At some point during the time they had been talking, Roe’gall had vanished from the room. Perhaps unrelated--perhaps not, there was a sudden spike of fear, amplified by the echo of the darkness within the Temple, that crossed her awareness like a firework shooting through the sky on Life Day. They were no longer alone. The presence she felt was distinctly different from the barely sentient natives who had so carelessly thrown their lives away in useless defense. A wary knot formed in her stomach, and without even thinking, Jaina found her lightsaber clutched firmly in her right hand. Locking eyes momentarily with Emily, she whispered through the Force. Looks like we have an eavesdropper, came the grave admission. Immediately, Emily’s eyes flew open and she straightened, her emotions locked up again behind a wall of ice. All business again, she mirrored Jaina’s pose in drawing her lightsaber, leaving it unlit in her hand as she reached out through the Force. From her blood-bond with Roe’gall came a primal satisfaction. “They won’t be hidden for long,” she returned confidently. “Let’s see what this is about.”

"The Cult aren't the only ones who have been here." Jaina's reply echoed in Emily's mind strangely. Perhaps it was simply because it was not the reply the Grey Master had been expecting; perhaps it was because of Jaina's hollow tone; or perhaps it was the sudden fire that she sensed ignite in her aunt. Perhaps it was all of those, or perhaps it was the sudden lump of dread in Emily's own gut. But overall, it felt like a blow to an already fragile foundation. Things were already bad enough--the Cult was prowling, Faust was back and undoubtedly trying to finish what he had started, and now there was something else, something that could make her aunt's very blood turn to flame? In how many different directions must they be pulled? Her fingers reached out and tentatively made contact with the symbol. Then she gathered herself. No time to fall apart. You've done too much of that recently. Reaching into a pouch at her belt, she pulled out her datapad. She'd take holos of everything here; there had to be a clue, if not to the reason the Cult had been here, then maybe to the reason this other group had been. Unless they were working together. The feeling of dread intensified. But in the next heartbeat, all the dread vanished into hope. There on the screen of her datapad appeared a face she knew; a face that she hadn't seen for almost a decade. She started and in her surprise, the datapad tumbled from her hands and clattered onto the stone floor of the temple. But it was no mere data short or crossed wires; for a moment, her uncle's face wavered also in her mind's eye. "I am alive," he said, his voice echoing with time and distance. And then he was gone, and Emily found the courage to meet Jaina's eyes. Jaina was weeping, tears of hope and pain and desperation, and Emily did the only thing she could think of: she reached out with trembling hands and slowly embraced her aunt. "He's alive," she echoed, adding her own joyful tears to the mix. "Oh, Jaina..." How can it be? How is it possible? she thought as she squeezed her aunt. But really, why I am surprised? Why is the Force always doing this? Someone leaves, someone returns. Someone dies, and someone is reborn. Suddenly, a terrible thought struck her, and she stiffened and caught her breath. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh, no." She drew back, and wiped away some of her tears. "Jaina...I want this to be a good thing. I really, really do. And to some extent, it is. But..." she was hesitant to bring it up. But Jaina deserved full openness. "It's just that, the last time someone came back, it was you. And if you look at everything that's happened, really everything...and where we are now..." She realized she was rambling, and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Jaina, what if the Cult brought him back? What if it's a trap?" Now that she had said it out loud, it seemed obvious that that was the truth. Her lower lip trembled. "I want to find him. We need to find him. But we need to do this the right way, or we'll be walking right into it." She was forcibly reminded of Quietus' agony, debating whether to go after the Cult or after Jaina, and his eventual decision that the Cult was more important, despite the fact that everything in his heart was pulling him the other way. It had been the right decision, she knew. But clearly the Cult had learned how difficult of a decision that had been for him. When Emily had gotten on their trail, they had tormented her. And now that Jaina was tracking them, too, they were doing their best to distract and destroy her. Well, not on Emily's watch. "Don't let the Cult win. Andon's return is amazing, and incredible, and wonderful beyond words...but not if you let them use him to manipulate you."

Jaina seemed distraught. It was curious to see firsthand. Never before had Emily been in a situation where she could see what brushing the dark side did to a Jedi’s psyche. Honestly, she found it a little ridiculous. The Force was the Force. Yes, there were different ways to harness it, and different ways it would respond, and Emily believed it made a difference mentally, but deep down it was all the same power. Light and dark were really just labels. From that perspective, Jaina’s hesitancy was strange, especially since Emily knew Jaina had once trained as a Sith herself. But no matter. Emily stowed her lightsaber and turned her focus down to the creature in front of her. He was beyond agony and was simply in shock, his eyes glazed. There was no use trying to converse with him. Instead, Emily used the Force to plunge a mental dagger into his mind, searching for information. Images flashed before her eyes. Beings in shadow attacking the village seemingly without provocation. Superior weaponry and strange Force magicks. And, tellingly, corpses of those they cut down rising again and turning to tear at their own former family and friends, their eyes haunted by a misty purple glow. The survivors had fled deep into the underground caves. They hadn’t been pursued. One month passed, then two. Eventually, they had dared to send out scouts. This man laying on the floor before her had been one of those scouts. She saw through his eyes as he watched the Cultists center their attention on the ziggurat, moving equipment in and out. Once, by night, the temple was lit from the inside with an unearthly white glow. Then one day, all in a hurry, they packed up their equipment and vanished back into the sky. But there was one last memory that Emily honed in on. A report from another scout, just two rotations around Yavin ago. Reports of a strange woman, an offworlder, camping deep in the brush. The report had thrown the village into uproar. They had gathered their things and prepared to leave. But then Emily and Jaina had come. And when they had stepped foot into the temple, the man had heard a buzzing noise. He had felt a build up of pressure in his brain. And suddenly, there was nothing but rage. At her feet, the man twitched and let out a sudden scream of agony. With one quick application of the Force, Emily stopped his heart, and the scream broke off. “Jaina,” she said suddenly. “The Cult did this. And I think they’re still here.” She turned and quickly headed over to the brunette, sharing what she had learned from the being’s mind as she walked. “We need to find out what they learned, and we need to find this watcher,” she finished. When she saw Jaina’s face, however, she reached out a hand and touched her aunt’s shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

Battle was simple. It was precise, it was clean, it was cold efficiency. Life or death. Black or white. Emily’s mind was clear and free for the first time in what felt like a long time, and she reveled in that icy plain of the Force. Extraneous thoughts faded. Her body responded to her will, becoming a tool with which she could achieve her desires, the lightsaber and the tuk’ata mere extensions of that tool. She cleaved the arms off of one man as Roe’gall tore another in half, spattering the temple floors with blood. The temple itself seemed to react in glee at the offering, and as the Force swirled within the Gray Master, it found an outlet in a spurt of fire that tossed itself from her opposite palm. As she danced, some other awareness tugged at her. For a moment, her senses contracted, and she knew without a doubt that somehow, Quietus had arrived. She couldn’t deny the swell of joy that immediately came with that sensation, but as her feet spun her around to face him, she saw only the lithe form of her aunt. The shock almost caused her to stumble. She had been so certain he was here. But there was no doubting her senses; the feeling of his presence had come from Jaina. She swallowed the anger and regret and, yes, jealousy, feeding it into the Force. It was just a trick, another manifestation of that inexplicable bond between her aunt and her ex-lover. A bit of dark pleasure coursed through her as Jaina suddenly realized it too, but the pleasure vanished as Jaina’s guard dropped. Emily was by her side in an instant, ready to defend her, but Jaina responded to the situation by throwing out a blast of energy. Emily rolled to the side, and Roe’gall leapt high above the blast, landing by Emily’s side on all 6 legs with a thump heavy enough to leave a small crater. In the wake of the blast, there was a sudden silence, broken only by the hum of the purple and bronze lightsabers and the breathless panting of the horde. For a moment, there was no movement on either side. And then whatever spell had been on the attacking beings broke. They scattered and fled for their lives.

Emily was surprised when the horde seemed to hesitate, but the pause was momentary and fleeting, and this time, she felt Jaina’s resignation. “Nice try,” she muttered. Then with another flourish of her bronze blade, she threw herself back into the fray. Reaching out, she drew on the Force to send three attackers flying until they hit the wall with a crunch. The ease of the gesture surprised her. Size and number didn’t philosophically matter when it came to using the Force telekinetically, but practically, the mind didn’t easily disassociate the results with the effort required. But here, the Force felt magnified. The stormwinds of power that whipped through Emily’s mind seemed focused and channeled in a way that she hadn’t encountered before. With a start, she realized it was the temple itself. The ziggurat was designed to amplify a Force user’s power, and this one particularly amplified the dark side. She grinned. If the dark side was extraordinarily powerful in this place, that gave her an advantage. She stepped up her attack, spinning and slicing, slaying only when she had to, intent on leaving at least some of them alive as witnesses and interrogation subjects. Roe’gall had no such inhibitions. The monstrous tuk’ata was in his element, tossing these semisentients around like hay with a pitchfork, tearing them in two with his teeth and razor-sharp claws. His strength meant that they could barely touch him, and his speed helped keep any from getting away.

Even through the haze of aggression that had settled over her, Emily was aware enough of her surroundings to realize that Jaina wasn’t attacking. She mentally rolled her eyes. What was it with Jedi? Pacifism was one thing, but refusing to defend oneself when attacked was folly. Her aunt’s Force command echoed through her mind, and although it wasn’t directed at her, she nevertheless picked up on the desperation Jaina was feeling. Emily hesitated, then shrugged. We can get information from them after they stop attacking us, she thought. And the quickest way to make them stop is to show them the futility of continuing their attack. Nevertheless, she spun her bronze blade in a circle, switching to a slightly more defensive posture, hopefully allowing Jaina’s message to reach these ferals without proving to the contrary. But she didn’t reign in Roe’gall. The tuk’ata was having too much fun.

Emily was drawn forward when Jaina discovered the rune-covered wall. Something about them was familiar... But she didn't get the chance to investigate. Her danger sense triggered and she cried out, but Jaina was already evading the dart. Emily's lightsaber was in her hand in a flash, and as Jaina tossed the man to the wall, she spun to engage the other attackers. A bronze glow ignited the room, illuminating the scene and giving everything sharp edges. Emily's focus became as sharp as the quills of a Klatooinian razor-rodent, and she immediately joined her mind with Roe'gall's. The tuk'ata howled, and then their attackers were upon them. Roe'gall barrelled out from the right flank, sending beings flying. Meanwhile, Emily stepped forward and engaged them, parrying wild attacks, slicing through weapons and limbs alike. For a moment, she was back on the Cult's ship, surrounded by assassin droids, her only thought to survive. Roe'gall picked up on her feelings, and joyfully and ferociously turned and bounded back into the center of the fray. Emily took a few steps back until she could plant herself firmly next to her aunt. She knew Jaina would hold her own, but she also knew that they would work better together than apart. She didn't care who their attackers were, or why they were attacking, although in the back of her mind she knew it would be useful to take at least one or two alive for questioning. Her eyes flashed wildly as she spread her feet, taking a dominate and challenging posture. "Let's go, then," she growled.

Jaina's self-deprecating jibe caused a half-smile to skitter across Emily's lips. It lingered only a second, but it nevertheless helped put her earlier nerves at rest. Indeed, just doing something, breathing fresh air on a world she had never before visited, was enough to brush the cobwebs from her mind and put her back on her game. Here was something she could focus on. "Do you know the history of this moon?" she asked Jaina as they walked. "It was a stronghold of one of the most powerful Sith of all time. I have no doubt you're sensing lingering echoes of his influence." Emily could sense it too, a general unfriendliness in the atmosphere of the Force. But that was such a familiar taint that it didn't bother her in the slightest; indeed, Korriban felt much more malevolent. "Anyway, we may need to speak with the settlers, but let's see what we can uncover on our own, why don't we?" It didn't take long to reach the ziggurat. The massive stone blocks fit together smoothly, but showed the wear and tear of age. Vines and growth covered the beige stone, and as they drew closer, Emily saw that in many places, thick moss usurped the mortar. Silently, she put a hand on the stone. It was cold and slick, and Emily could feel the weight of the millennia these stones had seen. Edges had been worn, and cracks had been made, but the stone endured. It maintained it's shape and purpose, a firm and unchangeable testimony: no matter what the years had thrown its way, it endured. After a moment, Emily pushed her wet hair out of her face. "C'mon, let's go inside." The inside of the ziggurat was large and surprisingly cool. As they stepped farther away from the entrance, the sound of the rain faded, leaving only a very still silence. Quietly, the two masters lit glowsticks and walked through the main floor, looking for clues. Emily pointed to some dust on the floor. "It's thinner in the middle," she said, finding herself whispering. She knelt down. "But not just in the areas where there would be draft from the doors. Looks like someone has been here, although I don't know enough forensics to say how long ago." They continued their circuit. The silence was oppressive, and the deeper they got, the more Emily got the sensation she was being watched by unseen eyes. Suddenly, there was a massive clatter, and she jumped, spinning around, her hand dropping the glowstick and reaching for her lightsaber. But it was just a woolamander, disturbed by their intrusion, skittering from it's nest in the corner. She placed a hand on her rapidly-beating heart and took a deep breath. "Sorry," she whispered. "Jumpy I guess." She hooked her lightsaber back on her belt and picked up her glowstick again. "Should we go up a level?"

The great glowing orange orb of the gas giant Yavin filled the viewport of the Traitor’s Hope as the ship emerged from hyperspace, obscured only by the dirt encrusting the transparisteel cockpit that somehow no number of trips through the void of space were able to completely burn off. The two women both looked up from the controls for a moment, letting their eyes drink in the sight of one of the most famous planets of ancient history, each lost in their own thoughts. After a moment, Jaina swung the ship around, aiming for the tiny fourth moon. “Keep you sensors active,” Emily said uneasily. “The Cult was here at least a few weeks ago. There’s no knowing if they still have people here or not.” Jaina’s fingers moved deftly over the controls, her pilot’s mind obviously keenly active. “No sign of any traffic, but there are several settlements down on the surface. Shall we take a look?” The Grey Master simply nodded. Now that she was face to face with the possibility of running into the Cult again, she was a strange mix of emotions. Eagerness and rage intermingled with what she had to admit was trepidation. She bit her lip, hating herself for the latter. It was normal, and she knew psychologically that it was okay to feel that way given their last encounter, but it was unbecoming in a Sith, and she knew most of the people she knew would scorn her if they knew what she was feeling. They don’t matter, she told herself firmly. Anyway, they don’t care about you, so why should you care what they think? Nevertheless, she set her countenance. She was not going to be afraid of the Cult. If she was, that would give them exactly what they wanted. The Traitor’s Hope came low over the treetops of the jungle moon. The coordinates Quietus had taken from the cultists’ navicomputer pointed them towards the outskirts of an old massassi settlement near the northern polar region. Emily was secretly glad for that; it would mean that they would be able to do their investigation without sweating through their clothing in the first five minutes. The village was like most of the settlements on Yavin IV--a small pattern of overgrown ruins surrounding one large ziggurat, with paths leading east and west to two other, smaller, triangular temples. Jaina brought the linked ships down for a smooth landing in a relatively open area. Rising, Emily quickly crossed over to her ship--I still need to give it a name, she thought absently--and grabbed her father’s ax and her shuriken. Her working lightsaber was already on her belt, but she clipped the empty hilt of her other one in its place, despite the fact that it didn’t yet have a crystal. She lowered the boarding ramp, but hesitated. It felt strange going out without her armor. But the armor had been lost during her captivity, and she hadn’t replaced it. Honestly, she hadn’t been able to face replacing it. That armor had been the first gift Quietus had ever given her, and for a long time, it had been a physical reminder of all he had taught her. But now, she wondered if it would be more than a bad memory. Shaking herself, she made her way down into the sodden jungle air, Roe’gall sniffing and investigating every new smell as he came heavily down the ramp behind her. Jaina was already outside, and Emily stepped up beside her. “What do you think?”

Jaina's reaction astonished Emily. Her aunt didn't deny her heartbreak, but instead of raging against it, she accepted it and strove to move on. And in turn reached and tried to comfort Emily. It was unthinkable to the Grey Master. She had paid again and again and again, but she had never stopped fighting against that price. To just...accept it? To move on when something so dear had been taken away? Deep down, part of Emily knew that there was nothing she could do to prevent the Force from taking more from her. She had never been able to in the past, and no matter how powerful she grew, she knew the Force didn't work in a way where you could make it do or not do something. That, after all, was the folly of the Sith. So maybe there was wisdom in the sort of acceptance Jaina was displaying. But on the other hand, didn't that...sense of disconnect mean that one would have to view everything in one's life like that? To always hold oneself at a distance, to never allow oneself to get too attached in case the Force demanded it from you? In Emily's mind, that, too, was wrong. Jaina finally met her eyes. Emily looked back. "Haven't we paid enough?" she asked rawly. "It's always one more thing. When will it ever end? When will we finally have peace?" She paused. "Sometimes having the Force feels more like a curse than anything else." Jaina's words about vengeance caused her to slowly nod. "I...respect that." But letting go of her own desire for vengeance was too much. If she let go of that, what would she have left to live for? She'd have no reason to exist. Realization swept over her as Jaina turned away to send a comm, leaving her momentarily trembling. No reason to exist...for so long she had judged her mother for giving up, for ending her own existence. She had come to terms with it, but never thought a place would exist that was so dark and empty that death would be a release. But now, her own price had climbed so high that she finally understood. In losing John, Sirvani had paid her price and it had been enough to cause her to give up everything else. Emily had paid and kept paying. Perhaps that meant that she was stronger than her mother had been. Perhaps Sirvani's true weakness had been that she wasn't strong enough to face more loss. And really, Emily couldn't fault her for that. With effort, she attempted to push the thought away. Now wasn't the time. Jaina had turned back around and was asking Emily to accompany her to Coruscant. For a moment, Emily vacillated. From a logical standpoint, it made sense. The Cult had access to Jedi planets too, and Emily and Jaina were the perfect link to investigate those connections. But part of her wondered, in light of what had just happened, that if she grew closer to her aunt, she'd simply be putting Jaina's head on the chopping block of the Force. But then Andon's face swam in front of her eyes, and she knew that if she didn't go with Jaina now, she'd regret it, no matter the outcome. So she bit her lip and nodded. "Yes. I'll help you. We will stop them together."

Throughout the journey, Jaina was distant. But that didn’t surprise Emily; Emily had already proven she was a wild card, and the first few tentative steps at reconciliation were more than she could have hoped for at this point. It was going to take time to repair something like this. Emily was willing to invest that time—and invest more, as she hoped her presence here would prove—but that meant that sometimes, there was nothing to do but wait. While Jaina occupied herself by tinkering with non-critical systems onboard the ship, Emily actually spent some time meditating. She had never been a fan of just sitting and thinking, but recently she had begun to value the emptying of oneself and the clarity it brought to her clouded, troubled mind. The moment she stopped meditating, all her problems would come rushing back, but there were moments where she was truly able to forget herself and let her consciousness merge into that of the universe—the Force. She couldn’t help but envision an ocean, placid but powerful, the tides constantly ebbing and flowing. The sound of the waves. She had never seen a real ocean in her life, but she had heard it described and she had seen holos. There was something innately soothing about the image, and it was a drastic change from the cyclone of power that was the image she normally encountered when using the Force. Whenever she wasn’t meditating, she was training. She still hadn’t fully gained her strength back after her ordeal, and she knew that she would have to be better than she had been before. She pushed herself through strength exercises and physical conditioning, working with her new lightsaber, and refreshing techniques with Roe’gall. The tuk’ata had gotten a little lazy tagging along behind Raia, and Emily drilled with him for several hours during the voyage. Finally, there was a chime from the cockpit. Emily rose from where she had been doing some stretches and headed to the cockpit in bare feet. Her aunt was already there. Jaina pulled back the lever and the ship dropped out of hyperspace…into an empty void. Both women stared at the emptiness for a moment. Jaina began to double check their position, and Emily felt a twinge of dread crawl up her insides. She suddenly had a massively bad feeling about this. Suddenly, Jaina reeled. Emily was there in a flash, stretching out with the Force, trying to figure out what was amiss. Was Jaina under some sort of Sith attack? She immediately sent Force-strength to her aunt, attempting to shore up the other woman’s mental barriers, while at the same time reaching out and probing the surrounding area. Perhaps Nhagathul was here after all, and just lurking invisibly? But how could you hide an entire planet? Jaina cried out, a wounded moan, and then, suddenly, Emily knew. She knew that sound. It was the sound her heart had been making for the last several weeks. The sound of a mother’s heart broken in two. “No,” Emily whispered. She took a step back. “No. No! NO!” She was shaking her head violently. Anger descended on her like a red haze. It couldn’t be. It was just so incredibly not right. It wasn’t fair. “Haven’t we paid enough?” The rhetorical question came out as a broken, anguished whisper. She knew the answer. There was no such thing as enough. Not for the road Emily—and, she sensed, to a certain extent, Jaina—walked. Andon had known it. John had known it. It had ended up costing both men their lives. And now it had cost the women their children. Emily’s head whirled. Every time she regained a modicum of hope, it was dashed. She had just discovered her cousin. And now, before Emily even had the chance to know her, she was taken away. The anger reached a boil. This was the point of no return. Dark siders had done this. She knew it. They had attacked Tirzah, they had dangled hope of rescue in front of Jaina, and then they had killed her simply because they enjoyed making people suffer. How had Emily ever allied herself with scum like that? She understood the nature of the dark side. She had been there. She knew what Darth Eris would have done. So why had she allowed herself to believe that they would stand a chance at rescuing Tirzah in the first place? In her tumult, she had focused solely on herself. Now, she remembered the other woman in the cockpit. Weakly, she turned to her aunt. “Jaina,” she croaked, “I…I’m so…sorry.” Unshed tears sparkled in her mismatched eyes. “I…we will make them pay.” Her list of beings to take her revenge on was getting long. But she wouldn’t give up. No matter how long it took her. They deserved to pay for the pain they had caused. Their torment would never equal what they had put Jaina through—as the Cult’s would never equal what they had put Emily herself through—but Emperor’s black bones, she was going to try.

Emily held her aunt's gaze. Then she shook her head. "No," she replied. "That's it. Let's go save my cousin. I'm with you to the end. I won't abandon you like I did Andon." The food Jaina had been cooking had gone cold, but Emily didn't really care. She hadn't been hungry anyway. She grabbed a slice of the meat and fed it to Roe'gall, who had been sitting behind her. He gobbled it eagerly and eyed the rest of the plate. She reached back and rubbed his head. "Did you get to meet Roe'gall?" she asked Jaina. "My loyal partner through thick and thin, he's someone I can count on. And he'll protect you, too, if it comes to it." She fed him another slice of the meat, then took one herself. There was a chime from the navicomputer, indicating that it had finally accepted the coordinates Jaina had given it and plotted them a safe course. Emily raised an eyebrow in mild amusement, trying to lighten the mood. This ship certainly was old if it had taken that much time to find a route.