Space

[Slicer]

Slicer suddenly woke up from his light nap. A thought had hit him during his slumber. Besides wearing the armor possibly forever more he would have to make and all of it's equipment like a second skin. Jumping up he adjusted the gravity to twice that of what he normal kept. Where oddly enough was 3 and sometimes four times as much as what was nomrally kept in some ships. Streching he rolled his head back and began to breath a little hard just due to the strain. Then giving it a shurg he began doing his normal ship exerisce routine. At first it was indeed quite hard for him. However after a few constant hours of training with breaks in between he could feel his muscles ripping apart and his body trembling under the strain. Smiling or more like grimicing he continued many of the exerisces until he was far to tired and in far too much pain to move. During these time periods he would rest, read up on the sword as well as other things and claen his armor. Then as soon as he saw an hour or so had been up he went right back into it. Anybody who had been watching would have though he was out of his mind.

[Andon]

As he listend to her talk, he smiled slightly at the fact of how much she had matured since the last time they had been like this... his smile humbling itself as the thought traced across his mind at how much he must have matured to her. In the break between their conversation the Knight reflected on all that she had told him, happy to just be in her presence... grateful for being able to be in such a close vicinity to her.

 

"If what say is how you feel, then we truly are meant for one another..."

 

The softly spoken statement hung in the air as he placed his hand on top of her stomach and smiled as she turned her head to look at him.

 

"When John and I came back from that... plane... everything was different. When I awoke on Raxus Prime I couldn't tell friend from foe... in fact, I came near to hurting John and his fiancee, Sirvani. In fear I shouted for one of their servants to back away from me and in doing so the weight of the Force in my voice nearly collapsed an entire wing of their complex."

 

It was feint, but he felt himself holding her slightly tighter as if he was trying to seek some kind of comfort.

 

"Since coming back I have a hard time controlling my Force powers... my connection is so much stronger then it was before that plane and most of the time I can barely keep a handle on them. I'm almost afraid that if I speak too loudly I'll rip the ship apart."

 

He paused for a moment as his face glassed over from the brooding look he had gained to that of one of contentment as he lightly kissed her neck before continuing on.

 

"Just before I found you, Ara released me of my duties as a Council member and active Jedi... she basically released me from the Order. I wanted to stay, but I know I wouldn't be able to... I'm too different now. It is impossible to be bound to an Order when your presence reeks of a being who is half-Jedi and half-Sith."

 

Ever so slowly he started moving his hand against her stomach, his touch delicate, almost as if he thought that if he pressed to hard she'd shatter away from him.

 

"I... I don't see things in terms of light and dark anymore. I don't know what I believe, but I know it is beyond such petty names as "Jedi" and "Sith... we are so much more then the names we hide behind. My fate is no longer tied to those that place emphasis on something that doesn't matter to begin with."

 

Andon slouched slightly down in his seat, leaning his head back against the top of the seat as he let out a contemplative sigh. His hazel-grey eyes staring aimlessly out into the streching stars that encompassed hyperspace as he thought over what he was about to tell her.

 

"I don't know if you could technically call me a Knight since I abandoned the Order, but I'll always stay with you."

[Bad karma]

Silence.

 

A darkness that stretched out for seemingly ever lay just feet from where Trowa sat cross legged. There wasn't a single movement throughout the entire ship. His apprentice lay at rest in the bacta tank and the other boy he had picked up was in one of the bunks. Such a quiet was something that had been long forgotten to the, still young, Sith lord. So few things he had wanted as a young boy and he had found them all for a brief time.

 

"How things change, so swiftly."

 

And so it happened yet again, the silence was broken by a few words. A small flare of anger seeped outwards as he recalled all the times he had tried for such a serene quiet at his own home only to be thwarted by some minor Sith or Arrogant Jedi.

 

A familiar sweet scent filled the air of his chambers, gracefully moving through the air and over towards him. It was diluted by the mask over his nostrils, but it was there...the fragrance, the smell, it had seemed like forever since she had been around him....Trowa's hands slipped upwards and pulled the mask off of his face and slipped his goggles towards the top of his head.

 

He had been within her grasp when the Sith had called upon him. It had taken so long for the peace to fall over his estate, but when it finally had...it was all ruined by a Sith. Always and forever they would ruin things for him it seemed. The air in the room began to chill, Trowa's breath becoming visible as his anger took a form outside of his body. It would seem that there would only be two Sith he would tolerate. Those two being Shy-Ree and Lord Exodus.

 

The rest would have to be taken care of, though it would need to be done in a most subtle way. He would need to perfect his control of the dark side before he could complete his task. With the deed he was about to commit, the Sith were sure to forsake him and push shame onto his name, but that didn't matter. He would stick to his word, for his word was the only thing he could truly give anyone.

 

Even still, he may owe the Jedi a favor, but that didn't mean that one day he might not once more seek out one Jedi in particular. The Jedi seemed to elude death every time they had met, but he couldn't be that lucky forever. He had caused the fall of the man's padawan and he would cause a deep corruption in the Jedi...it would be his new project.

 

Slowly Trowa drifted into a state in between sleep and wake. His mind escaping rational thought and moving into the stream that is the force. It slid along, scenes of death and destruction passing his view.

 

"Annihilation is to one the means to an end"

 

The blue fire that had rained down with a power that was close to surpassing that of an orbital bombardment slipped into his view as he watched it from what seemed like a birds eye view that could only be in space. The screams of millions filled his ears as he slammed his hands over them trying to stop the noise...

 

"armageddon the war to end all wars, the extremists' end"

 

The Coruscant streets plagued his mind. The bodies of storm troopers, rebels and so many innocents coated the entire place. The street had been carved into a crimson river. A deep pain burst into his chest causing him to collapse forward. His vision stopped, his face ached now as it lay at rest on the icy cold floor of the ship.

 

He placed his hands onto the floor frozen floor and pushed himself up. His lungs burned like never before, his nose ached like it had so long ago. An animalistic growl escaped his lips as he shoved his frustrations with everything to the surface. He had no need to kill so many, to express a power that he knew he had. It made no difference if anyone else knew of or respected his power. He didn't need the Sith, if anything they needed him!

 

Trowa stood up and pulled out his light saber. He ignited its fiery crimson blade and held it slightly above the floor, lowering it only to cut a symbol into the floor of the ship. It wasn't deep enough to slice into anything important, but it was deep enough to get the job done. Once this was complete Trowa bowed down onto his knees in the circle, commanding the force to come to him and flow all around him. With his lungs burning, his body aching, and his mind laden with a guilt he shouldn't have felt he began a low chant, allowing it to get steadily louder...

 

"Darkness beyond blackest pitch, Deeper then the deepest night, King of Darkness who shines like Gold upon the sea of Chaos."

 

He paused, pulling a greater amount of the force into his body. It flowed through him, giving him a greater power then many men would ever fill. So many would kill just for a taste of the power he had and yet, he wielded it with such grace.

 

"I call upon thee and swear myself to thee! Let the fools who stand before me be destroyed by the powers you and I posses!"

 

The circle around him was consumed as the particles around him accelerated creating a light bright enough to ruin anyones eyes without proper protection. The light seemed to enter his feet and slowly and painfully crawl up his body. A searing pain shot through every muscle and bone in his entire body, he stifled back the scream of pain by gritting his teeth. It was only when the pain reached his lungs that he threw his head back and let out the howl of pain, his eyes bursting open when the white hot feeling reached them. His once pitch black eyes seemed to have a glow coming from the edges of them as the light passed through his body before completely leaving it.

 

He stayed up as he had been for only a few brief seconds before his body gave out and collapsed under his weight in exhaustion and great pain of mind, body, and spirit.

Edited December 4, 2005 by Guest

[Menthu]

Procs silently fumed lost inside of his own head. He was incapaticated and he had no idea where he was. The blame he decided can rest easily upon the Sith order. It seems he had been twarted yet again. No matter what he always seemed to get torn up in some way shape or form due to the Sith.

 

With his first encounter of the Sith he had gone seeking the same power he now sought. He had been a little greener and little more foolish. he had stolen a ship for the trip. Only to have the ship destroyed... That was the first strike. As he searched for a way to unlock the very power they had they inadvertly caused his first death. He had been slain due to the political instability of the Sith Stormtroopers had surrounded him and executed him on the spot. And for what he hadn't done anything wrong he hadn't even met a Sith yet. But STILL he had died for the Sith cause for no reason what so ever. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had been close to oh so very close to taking his steps to power so long ago. It had taken him a long time to recovery after getting rid of the debt he had incurred simply for being cloned.

 

Now look at him once again he had been torn up due to the Sith cause a cause he really didn't believe in. He had no true hatred for Jedi. Which what seemed to drive the Sith. He had watched reports it seems that the Sith always assumed the role of the dark rivials of the Jedi. Doing foolish things just to bring Jedi down on top of them.

 

Here he was possibly sprawled somewhere in the lower levels of coursant possible getting robbed and he could do nothing about it. And Why simply because he had once again fallen while in service to the Sith. His supposed Sith breathen cared nothing for him they did not even acknowledge his prescence unless he was in the presence of his master. Even then he was nothing more than background noise. A warm body to be thrust out into the line of danger as they simply watched as he was cut down. As it stood now his legs were parylized he body had been blasted and he had, had some sharpnel lodged in his gut from a grenade he had lodged toward enemies of the Sith. However they weren;t his enemies he had never had any contact with them prior to that and he possible might never have had any contact should he had simply not been in service to the Sith at that time.

 

Rage threatened to tear him apart as he struggled away from the blackness that engulfed his mind and body. Silently he forced his way through the pain. Oddly though it seemed his pain was subsiding. His Spider Silk armor had done nothing for him. Whell it had kept the laser bolts from killing him however he could possibly now be a crippled. and all because the Sith had decided to use him before the had even trained him. They wanted him to fight their battles while leaving him defensless.

 

Suddenly his eyes snapped opened. Reflecting in the glass in front of him were two eyes blazing with a fury so deep it was beyond the animalistic rage that a person may get from a fight with a love one or a blaster shot that left one crippled. This rage was one much deeper than those. It was a one caused by a betrayal. A betrayal that in a way he had forced upon himself but at the same time did not desire. He detached himself from the bacta tank and opening it up lethimself out from the top. Replacing his spider silk armor back on his body he felt the cylinder still in his pocket.

 

His pain was gone and he smelled of bacta. Looking around he figured he must be on some sort of ship. Then he spotted his master laid out upon the floor. He reterived a med pack and returned to his master. Not really sure what his master's condition was he simply proped him up against the bulkhead and placed a calming agent on Trowa's head. Perhaps that would wake him. The concentrating he forced his anger and rage back. To show what one felt was a weakness instantly targeted. then leaning back he found some water and drank it down to cool his raging thirst.

[Skye Organa]

The Destiny's Dream shot into hyperspace, travelling to it's destination. Skye checked on her patient, making sure he wouldn't wake until she was ready for him to.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

But I'll always stay with you. But I'll always stay with you. But I'll always stay with you. Always. Always. Always. Always.

 

For Jaina, the only absolute in that statement was that it was always misused. It was a word that sent her head reeling: "always" was no longer a part of her vocabulary. Her blood chilled, that same fear of rejection welling up inside her, forcing her to shrink from his touch. The mood had changed from a civil discussion between reunited lovers to a game of spiritual hide-and-seek. Jaina retreated mentally into herself, setting up the walls that would keep him out.

 

It took some time for her to reexamine the rest of his statements, questioning the validity of each in her mind. "Andon," she whispered finally, "I'm sorry - but promises mean nothing to me anymore." She narrowed her eyes, a serious of faces flashing before them before she continued. "You'll have to do better than that."

 

He drew his hands away from her, sitting up straighter as she was thrown slightly with the movement of his legs. His mouth was just beginning to form a response when she began to plead her case. "I've undergone so many broken promises - I just can't accept them the same that I could. I want to trust you, Sparky, I really sense that you're sincere..." she closed her eyes, looking down at her hands. "But something in me just doesn't respond to 'always' and 'forever' anymore."

 

"Jaina, please," he started, a hurt look crossing his face. "You have to remember who you are to me, who I am..."

 

"I know who you are, dammit," she whispered, wincing. "You've renounced the name of the Jedi and reject the teachings of the Sith. Good. So now we're on the same page." Cynicism began to creep into her tone unintentionally, the bitter woman inside of her crawling to the surface. "The Force has rejected you just as it has rejected me."

 

Her face took on a pale color, her eyes wide and seeming to glow. "Have you seen it, Andon? Have you seen the Force? Have you closed your eyes and seen its glory enveloping your soul in a pleasant torture?" She was in hysterics, half-turning in an attempt to face him. "Have you fallen on your knees, pleading with a silent judge that dictates your life and yet will do anything to please you?"

 

As she began to calm down, her breathing easing to its normal pace, she leaned her stiff spine back onto her makeshift seat. "Don't you even talk to me about having a hard time with Force powers. You don't know the half of it."

 

Obviously fatigued, she groaned softly as he shifted to once again wrap his arms around her. "Jaina Jade, love," he whispered into her ear, holding her tightly to himself. "You have to let go of your past; you have to trust me. Trust that I'm not who I was - trust that I'm not who hurt you."

 

The words hit closer to the mark than Andon knew: shaking the foundations of her false premises. The half-Sith part of Jaina shied away from him, hiding her heart and emotions from view. The half-Jedi part wanted to sit in silence, meditating on what she could do to solve the problem at no risk to herself and no hurt to him. And yet the odd combination of the two of them that rested inside of her, ever-bickering, the angel on one shoulder and the demon on the next reached a different solution.

 

The same girl witnessed by John and Andon in their separate plane of the Force, the goddess who grasped the universe by the tail, was before Andon now: not as a goddess of the stars but as a humbled, struggling individual. Half of her seemed to be clad in the whitest of satins, her hand extended in a gesture of friendship, innocent eyes smiling up at him. The other half was adorned with the darkest of blacks: her blood-covered, closed-fishand accented by the malicious grin on her face. In both, she was almost too beautiful to look at: shame and glory, in light and darkness.

 

"Andon," she cooed, as a goddess descending to her shrine. "I have naught left to learn of the Force. I am the Force, and the Force is me. For good or for evil, for better or for worse, here I am." She fidgeted enough to turn sideways on his lap, staring unblinkingly down into his face. Hauntingly; coming from afar as if not her voice, the Goddess looked up into his eyes. "Jaina Jade Skywalker is no more - she has been remade, just as you shall be remade."

 

The momentary vision died away, and in its place sat a completed woman, much unlike the one that had been sitting in her place just moments before. She was clad simply: dark black undergarments with a simple brown cloak over them, a lightsaber and a whip both strapped to her side. And as simple as she appeared on the outside, the inside of her was more complex than an infinite amount of time over an infinite amount of star systems. For she contained in her soul all the simplicities and complexities of the Force: remade as unto the Force. Jaina Jade Skywalker sat before him, a pure and unadulterated embodiment of the Force. In all its flaws and all its strengths: she was the light and the dark, the good and the bad, the angel and the demon.

 

"Do you see now, Andon?" Her voice still carried an ethereal, mythical quality to it. "The balance between Jedi and Sith is the edge of a knife. It is possible to carry oneself exactly on that edge, neither Jedi nor Sith while still being Jedi and Sith. To fight for both sides while fighting for neither. To dance with death and pray with peace. Become the Force: and you will be omnipresent and nonexistent. I am what I am, immortal in my own right. Cut me, I bleed, and yet if I use the fullness of my knowledge and intuition, there's no way you'll get the chance."

 

"And yet even as what I am, in all of its fullness," she murmured softly, running the back of her index finger along the scar on his face, "I can't dampen my love for you." Her memory flew back to a blood field at Mimban: at which she stared out at him from the chained safety of Raynuk Montar's arms as he held her sister similarly in his. Her heart pounded then: not for the nearness of her master, not for the departure of her sister, but for the wounded eyes that convicted her across time and space. The depths of his wisdom she did not understand then, not until the cave at Malachor. Yet through all the wisdom that had been granted to her there, she had the audacity to long for this renegade who sat beneath her, the confused Knight who pleaded with her to love him.

 

Noting all the negative advice that came to her when she mentally acknowledged her passion for him, she threw wisdom out the window and leaned in towards him, gathering his face gently in her hands and pressing her lips firmly against his.

[Bad karma]

It didn't take long for the young man to come around. He shook his head slightly, feeling out his surrounds through the force. Every inch of the ship became mapped out before his minds eye at his command, alerting him to his apprentice that sat just to the left of him and to the other which still lay in the bunk.

 

Something between a growl and a grunt was emitted from between his pale lips, his face contorting in pain as he did such. His lungs ached with a fiery passion deep inside, he needed his mask and at the thought of needing it it sprung to life and slipped across the room and onto his face. Trowa took a deep breath through it, relishing the feeling of fresh clean air.

 

He leaned his head back, his face staring up at the ceiling of his ship. His eyes hurt still, but it wasn't a hurt that bothered him. It was more of the bitter embrace of death and the sweet tinge of life all at once. Truly a bittersweet pain it was that coursed through him. When he finally did open his eyes, they were circled with light. It shone outwards his once pitch black orbs now held an amazing light just behind them.

 

"This sucks..."

 

Trowa got up from his seated position and moved towards the cockpit, using the walls to keep his balance. It would be a very short time until they arrived, but after that he didn't know how long it would take for Faust to show up with the Jedi leader.

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian's ship shoots through space. Blah dee blah dee frickin blah.

[Bad karma]

The room around the young man began to turn, slowly at first. The colors of everything blended into an almost hypnotic show. He held firm though, his eyes never leaving Ara's. He forced the force around him, his volatile dark nature hitting its peak, which in his current emotional state and rank of power would rival many masters in shear command of the force.

 

The room had not been sufficient enough to distract him from his task, but when his body began to change and shift he stumbled back looking at his hands in shocked awe. His fingers shortened down to their normal length and his arms began to slim up slightly and take on an olive tone. He turned sharply, coming to face a mirror that stood still even as the room around it was swirling faster and faster still. As he looked into it his skin shifted from the pale deathly grey to his normal olive tone. The light that seemed to be just behind his eyes was pulled into the center of his eye, reforming his Jade pupils he had so long ago possessed. It had been a long time since his body had its natural form.

 

When he turned back to look around the room and towards the table Ara's body had rested on, it wasn't there. Rather he was in a pure white room, the walls so white they almost seemed to glow around him. The only offshoot of color was that of his body and his dark pants. Slowly the young man moved to the center of this room, glancing all about curious to his location.

 

"Well...if there was padding on the wall I would think I found entrance into the wrong mind..."

 

Almost as if by power of his thought the walls began to move outwards slowly, forming padding all around him. He moved over towards it and run his hand along the fine lines of it, testing how real it was. A lock of his brown, previously black, hair drifted into his eyes. A genuine smile crossed his face at the sight of it. He delicately brushed it away, fearing that any wrong move would take it away from him. It was then that he realized...something was wrong with the force. He couldn't grasp it, something was diverting it away from him...siphoning it away. Perhaps it was the amount of concentration it took to venture into this beings mind, whether it be his own or Ara's or perhaps it was simply that this room had something within its walls that prevented the darkness from being dominant within here.

 

"Hey....anyone there...?"

 

Music to his ears, his original voice sang outwards, echoing off of the walls.

[Ara-Lai Kaipi]

A girlish giggle bounced off the walls after his question, and in a flash, Pinku was in front of him, her rose-colored cloak half-open to reveal a dress shirt, black tie, and dark pink pants underneath. Two small rose scars were under her eyes, and a pair of pink-tinted lensed goggles sat atop her unruly long blond hair.

 

"Silly! Thought ya'd like the padding!" she said, poking him lightly on the shoulder. Pinku laughed again, dancing around him. "I can do whatever I want to this room! Watch!" The walls around them slowly began to swirl and turn pink, blue, and purple in shifts, though they were still padded. Quite suddenly, the shifting ceased, and the room returned to its original state, unpadded and white.

 

"Pinku, I thought I told you not to do that," another voice said. Shiro, resplendent in her white robes, wings folded behind her, stepped next to Pinku, looking slightly cross. "Particularly when we have company."

 

Pinku pouted and plopped down in one of the many chairs in the room. "You're no fun."

 

Shiro sighed. "Sorry about that. Pinku is rather...exciteable." She winced as Pinku giggled shrilly. "Quite. In any case, that's Pinku, and I'm Shiro. I suppose you could call me Ara's...soul, her purity, her innocence, her kindness. What drives her to remain the way she is despite unfavorable circumstances." Shiro took a deep breath. "You are...rather opposite of that, but you mean well at the moment, thus why you were allowed any entrance at all."

 

"He's got the right idea about things, Shiro, you should listen to him," a rather gruff voice put in. Shiro scowled and glanced behind Trowa.

 

"I thought I told you to put their gags back in!" She swiftly crossed the room, and Trowa's eyes followed. What he saw was enough to scare anyone at least a little.

 

Besides Shiro and Pinku, there were eight other Ara look-alikes, each in a different color robe. The two most of note were currently chained and tied to chairs, handkerchief gags laying half-tied around their necks; one wore black robes, the other wore red robes, and both had kohl-lined eyes.

 

"You let him in and don't let us speak?" the black one shouted. "That's hardly fair, little miss 'kindness!'"

 

"I told you before--ugh!" Shiro helped the brown-robed Ara tie the gag back around red's mouth. "Trowa, yes? This is Aka, and the black one is Kuro. You won't hear much of them," she reassured as Kuro's gag was replaced as well. The two chained women yelled through their gags to little avail, as once again, they were muffled and quite unintelligible.

 

Shiro coughed into her hand. "In any case. Allow me to introduce Ara's other...pieces." She began to point out the others, starting with the brown-robed one, "That's Chairo," green "Midori," purple "Murasaki," yellow "Kiiro," gray "Hairo," blue "and Ao." They all bowed to some degree, Chairo bowing the deepest of all of them. Shiro took a deep breath, turning back to Trowa. "Your powers are muted here, mostly because of Ara's spirit--me, I mean, so you won't be able to do anything. We control what precious little is left of Ara's mind at the moment. I'm not even sure she'll be able to recover," she said quietly. She shook her head. "Anyway, you're here to help, though it seems to be more obligation than kindness. You need a place to go with her so she can try to recover."

 

She pointed across the room, back next to the bouncy Pinku, where there was now an elegant oak door. "Her memories lie in that direction, though what you see you may not like. We will help you try to navigate as much as we can, but as I said before..." Her bright eyes dimmed somewhat. "...her mind is in shambles right now. It's not very safe, nor very sensible, to a point. This is the only room we are entirely secure in, our retreat to save ourselves, to save Ara. The rest..."

 

The door swung open slightly revealing silver and blue flames along a white hallway. More doors lay outside the room, lining the hallway, many covered in the flames themselves, and some decidedly darker in color than others.

 

Shiro looked almost as pale as her robes at this point. "...the rest are currently like this. And those flames are not just for show." She looked back to Trowa, watching him closely. "It will affect both your mind and your physical body. Are you willing to do this still?"

[Bad karma]

Trowa shifted only slightly when the giggle bounced off of the wall. He winced slightly as it did, recalling the giggle of his own daughter...it had been so long. The young female looked almost just like the Jedi he had left on his ship and when she started to make the walls swirl in color Trowa stepped back slightly, hopping some of his drugs hadn't slipped into his blood stream.

 

The young man turned to face the voice of another, almost angelic in nature and once he laid eyes upon her in appearance He watched the two, almost identical, females speak to each other. When the one called Pinku plopped down Trowa mumbled more to himself then anyone else.

 

"I didn't mind, it looked rather nice..."

 

He winced slightly at the shrill giggle, not from the noise itself, but from the thought of what it would do to him in his normal body with his hyper acute sense. The angel like Ara spoke to him, introducing herself as the Jedi's soul...her purity, innocence, kindness, all of the good things a person would have. She wasn't lying in stating that he was the opposite of that, though he hadn't always been such...He had once been as pure an innocent as anyone else, only wanting a good life...

 

But that was the past, no sense in living within it.

 

Trowa turned to look behind himself after hearing the gruff voice of another. He was surprised to see two more figures chained and tied up sitting in the chairs. It wasn't the sight of those two that caused him shock though, it was the sight of the rest of them all together. Anyone else would have jumped out of their skin at seeing the combined ten Jedi Masters, all different in one way or another.

 

It was...intriguing to say the least to see all of them. From what he had gathered they each represented a different side of the women. The two in bondage representing some of the more darker aspects of the woman. Trowa's lips formed together tightly as he tried to hold his tongue, but failed.

 

"You know, by having them tied up you are practicly making the same mistake that we Sith make. Some of us deny our lighter aspects, which is wrong, but it is just as wrong to hide away your darker aspects. Unnatural, it is."

 

Trowa paused, taking in a small breath as she began to introduce each of the other. He attempted to commit each of them to memory as to not forget which was which and get mixed up with them. He was rather relieved to be told that it was them muting his powers here, rather then some other unseen force. Trowa looked towards the ground as she mentioned the fact he was here more out of obligation then kindness.

 

"I am a Sith, What do they expect!"

 

A sigh escaped his lips, going unnoticed by the rest of them as they turned towards an eloquent oak door. He listened intently to her speaking. He would do what he could to help, if for only the fact it would prove an interesting study. The blue flame brought up memories of Coruscant and the terrible destruction that was had there with a flame like that, he could only hope these weren't as strong.

 

He turned to face Shiro, looking into the eyes of the woman as he spoke to her. His voice holding a slightly deeper tone then was normal.

 

"The body you see before you is my old one, the way my mind sees it. My current one...is quite odd and I am sure it can endure a bit more punishment if it means better understanding this entire thing...." He paused stealing a glance at the hallway before turning back and speaking..."...and perhaps even saving Ara's mind as a whole. My mind...is fragile, yet powerful in its own way. It will hold."

 

Trowa moved towards the hallway...moving to take his first step into the first door of many...

[Ara-Lai Kaipi]

Shiro nodded, understanding. "Darker aspects...they are heard by Ara well enough, despite the precautions, but were they to be free like you or I..." She let out a shuddering breath. "I believe the galaxy would not survive the outburst." She steadied herself as Trowa committed himself to the task, if merely out of curiosity more than anything, and followed close behind the man as he passed through the first door--one of Ara's more recent memories.

 

The whole entourage followed, even Aka and Kuro, who floated along, their gags spit out once more, much to Shiro's chagrin. Luckily, they both remained silent as the scene unfolded past the door.

 

Ara was in the first interrogation room of Faust's, just waking up from being kidnapped, Reagan taunting her and throwing water over her head. Shiro winced. "I fear it was our fault for that mishap. She couldn't remember which language was the right one, and though we tried to tell her, something in the knock-out drug made it hard for her to hear us initially."

 

Shiro walked straight through the table to watch the continuing conversation. "I believe you know the Hunter, and his beloved, Reagan. This was the first thing that happened when Ara awoke after the kidnapping...quite mild in comparison to the later torture Ara was put through."

 

Even the normally cheery Pinku sombered up visibly at this mention. She shivered, stepping gingerly behind Ara's speaking form. "I tried to keep her occupied, really, I did. We made puppets!"

 

There was a deafening silence amongst those congregated, save for the oblivious recall of Ara's interrogation, which went on like a holo, unhindered by anything happening around them now. Chairo shook her head from the doorway to the memory.

 

"Yes, you made puppets. You sang and made puppets," Chairo sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

 

"Something in the lack of the Force made Ara adapt, made us adapt," Shiro said quietly. "Through us, she can manifest some things, make things happen, by merely the sound of her voice or the notes of an instrument." She paused. "Though she doesn't know it's us yet."

 

"She'll never know it's us," Midori whined. "She takes us for granted."

 

"She doesn't even know we exist!" Ao cried onto Midori's shoulder. Kiiro jumped and hid behind Hairo.

 

Shiro watched solemnly as the scene continued to play out. "I don't think she should know we exist, piece by piece. We should be one whole being, but...things have changed. We remain as such to protect her. To stay untainted." She looked at Trowa. "I don't know if any of this--" she waved at Faust and Ara battling things out verbally "--will help you, but perhaps you can gain something from it that we cannot."

[Andon]

And then there was pain. Endless pain.

 

No tears could ever be wipe cleaned. No prayer could ever answer the plea. Andon Colos found himself in a barren wasteland that he kept close to his heart”¦ the place that his dreams died and the home in which misery itself weeps from the sin. A vacuum in which hope failed”¦ this was the place Andon called home now. This was the place that the love of his life, Jaina Jade Skywalker, had exiled him to in this moment”¦ her words were killing him by degrees. There was so much sorrow in her voice; so empty from what he remembered it to be. She tried so hard to block him out from her emotions and thoughts, but he was there to receive every last one of them despite how hard she tried to cloud him from the clarity of her.

 

Emotionally and mentally he was on the verge of collapsing and in a cruel twist of fate a feeling of a different kind of pain drifted to him from across the stars. It was all over”¦ every muscle ached and every joint creaked as physical torment plagued his body and a vision of a far off fight crept into his thoughts. John”¦ Brother”¦ what fate have you stumbled upon”¦ he had no time to reflect on the bombardment of body, mind and soul; the other-worldly siren of the Force Goddess's voice turned his blood to ice. Jaina”¦ the voice was coming from Jaina. He stared at her wildly as the Goddess used her as vessel to get at Andon once more; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

 

As quickly as the voice came it left”¦ leaving only the woman he loved behind. Once more things shifted before he had time to come to terms with them as Jaina leaned in towards the Knight and pressed her lips against his, kissing Andon soundly. One arm was wrapped around her back as the forearm of the other laid itself across her lap; his hand resting along her hip as the vixen deepened the kiss. His hand moved down from Jaina's hip and slipped itself underneath of her thigh as he lifted the leg up and swung it towards him. He moved to do the same with the other leg, Jaina already wise to his idea as she placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up as Andon shifted the placement of her lower body. Placing his hands on her hips, she lowered herself down into a sitting position, her knees pressed against the outside of his hips as she straddled his lap; the two now facing each other.

 

They looked into one another's gaze as Andon broke their kiss to speak. ”œYou paint the walls with flames and call it your mirror”¦ yet you hate it. You can't recognize the symptoms of truth”¦ but you still think it's you. Promises and forever are just words to you”¦”

[Menthu]

Procs had fallen back asleep during the time it had taken for his master to wake up get the Jedi Leader and come back. Matter of fact he had no clue that any activity had gone on during his little nap. He found it odd that after coming out of bacta he would have fallen asleep however it had happened and he though about it no longer. Not really sure what was going on he wondered if his blaster and kinfe were still where he had left them. Not really caring at the moment he yawned still exhausted fom his mental battle and closed his eyes...

[Bad karma]

Trowa watched, his face expressionless. He wouldn't betray a single emotion, he didn't dare do such a thing in the mind of another for fear of what lasting or brief reprocussions his own thoughts and emotions would have upon the other. The language that Ara was speaking was one Trowa had never heard throughout his vast travels and studies. Even though Trowa had never met Reagan or the Hunter known as Faust, he had heard of them as sure as anyone else whom didn't live in a cave somewhere in the outer rim had.

 

Trowa grunted when Pinku spoke up about the puppets they made. His eyes, however, stayed glued to the session before him. He couldn't seem to turn away for the second, absorbing all of the information before him. When the different Ara's began to speak up about her odd power through the sound of her voice he returned his attention to them. Curious as to what it was she could do...

 

Thoughts began to brew in his own mind. Could these things be something of everyone? Or were they simply something a deranged Jedi leader thought up in her insanity to help comfort herself. He feared to see how his own similar creations would interact, if in fact these was a hidden aspect of everyone. Perhaps he had a few of his own self-images restrained as the Jedi did...something he would surely look into if given the chance.

 

"Take me to the next room, I've seen enough here."

 

A hint of compassion tainted his once cold, careless voice. It would be hard for anyone to endure torture, but for someone who isn't used to others lashing out with words and weapons, inflicting gushing gashes upon the mind and body it would be so much harder. The people he had killed, most of them, had been granted swift deaths. It was not a cruel way to die, but death was death no matter how you at it.

 

The group stepped out of the door and into the hallway once more. Trowa glanced over his shoulder at the women behind him, taking in the sight of them before recalling the body of the actual Ara and the condition it had been left in. A most subtle and unwanted shiver ran down his spine as he reached out to open the next door and venture that much deeper into the mind of a woman his opposite...

 

____

 

One of the Cy's moved through the ship quietly, checking over the systems and everything else. He came upon Procs sleeping figure. The large humanoid swiftly moved over to the young man and picked him up rather roughly. He waited until the man was fully awake and looking at him before leading him out of the room and towards a computer terminal. He pointed at the screen, indicating the young one to go over everything on it.

 

It held the different styles of armed and unarmed combat of the galaxy, though not a complete list. As well as the styles of lightsaber combat, the different styles of sabers, and the fighting forms.

[Wookiee Jedi]

*Kirlocca in his borrowed ship from Onderin raced throug space on a special mission that the jedi master gave himslef.*

 

Next stop, the new Elite Jedi Squadron base...

[Ara-Lai Kaipi]

Shiro nodded and gestured for the others to head out the door before her, leaving Trowa and Shiro alone in the room for a moment. "I know you wonder what we are...not all beings have aspects such as us, but something in Ara made us possible. Not anything 'deranged' or because of 'insanity,' but because of who she was, who she is," Shiro amended. She had Trowa follow her out of the room and back into the fiery hallway, the two gingerly dodging flames as they crossed to the next door. "She's...we exist because she exists. That's the only way I can explain it."

 

From up ahead, Aka was grinning wildly at the door in front of her, the fire reflecting eerily off her dark-lined eyes. "This next part was fun." Kuro nodded in agreement, her teeth looking more like fangs as she smiled.

 

Ao shook her head, loose hair whipping around her sullen face. "It was awful, horrible what he made her do."

 

"He forgave her, before the end," Murasaki said with a quiet half-bow. "That is all that matters." One of her wooden sandals clicked as she stepped back to let Shiro and Trowa to the door in front of her.

 

Shiro silenced the whole brood as she opened the door to reveal the next scene. Ara, a horrid mask covering most of her face, knelt on the floor, a boy bound and gagged on the opposite side of the room, a knife at her knees. Shiro ushered everyone in and closed the door behind them. She pulled Trowa around so they could get a better view of what was to come.

 

"Faust arranged this horror," Shiro explained. "It's also where we were first able to help Ara better, as the mask on her head made it impossible for her to call the Force to her will."

 

Ao and Murasaki bowed their heads down, unable to watch, while the others held back, none of them watching, not even Aka and Kuro, as Ara sang lowly after the boy had made his decision, putting him to sleep and ending his life to save the others. As the blood flowed, Shiro winced, turning her head away, tears in the corners of her compassionate gray eyes. "...but we couldn't help as much as we had wished."

[Menthu]

Procs found that being hostile proved to be quite the protection cause most to back down however oddly enough when he was awaken so roughly he felt no need to be hostile. He had the itch feeling of blasting it however with out a blaster, knife, dagger, sword, blaster rifle, hell even a fear stick he was pretty much not feeling up to fighting something hand to hand while still half asleep. Being led to a computer he looked and understanding what it wanted him to do leaned back in a chair and began to read through the stuff. Quite a few of the unarmed combat techniques were familiar to him. After all a guy needed to know how to protect himself. A lot more armed combat techniques were familiar to him then the unarmed one. However what really caught his attention was the lightsaber combat. Despite all of the crap that had happened to him w hile in service to the Sith he had seen one thing that he had wished to see since around the age of 5. He had for the longest time wished to see a lightsaber in combat. It was this section he paid the most attention two aftera while he had commited to memory almost all the computer had told him about the lightsaber, it's combat forms ext ext. the unarmed combat he followed up with then the armed combat. While it was slow at first he began to see how each one could either counter or help another one.

 

After a while he reached into his pocket and pulled out the lightsaber he had captured. Holding it far away from him for he had no desire to kil himself he pressed the button that looked as if it would activate the thing. As the reb beam of light sprang out he was suprised at the weight distrubtuion. It was like he was only holding the hilt. Feeling quite unbalanced he gave it a few swuings before turning it off and pocketing it once more. Perhaps he would be building his own soon.

[Capt. Phillep]

An Interdictor II found its way out of Coruscant's atmosphere, it was followed by what remained of capable Imperial fighters. The vessels entered a number of hyperspace jumps before vanishing...

 

If the pathetic Rebellion wished to consider it a victory, numerically, they were entitled to it. It was funny... a rag-tag bunch of fighters from a practically unprepared feint made them run. If anything, the Admiral had regained his pride... if only to be horribly upset, he hated the Charybdis III and decided to return it to Vjun to have it dismantled and rebuilt into an actual worthwhile ship... fortunately, he had learned enough about his enemy in battle to realize a few things that would work to his advantage and in his wake, he had decimated the population of Coruscant.

 

He inhaled again, feeling the sweet nicotine attach to his pleasure centers...

[Skye Organa]

Skye just smiled at his small joke, her eyes encouraging him to ask his questions, indulging the wide eyed youngster.

 

"We can't read anyone as such, although a seer might. I do get the odd premonition. Tzeentch gifted me with another insight though. Look into my eyes and sit still."

 

She placed her finger tips on his temples, looking deeply into his eyes, into his soul. He wasn't consumed by darkness, just alittle grey around the edges. She didn't want to influence him but she didn't want him to be lost totally to consuming darkness either. She planted a seed of thought that he might follow... that of a lighter version of the sith if need be...

 

"I don't think you are as dark as you think you are. Don't let the darkness rule you young one. Even the shadows are enough to live by. Don't extinguish the light completely... please."

[Oblivion]

The process was interesting, feeling an invisible hand touch his mind and just as quickly release. Releasing his hands as he heard her speak, the young man ruffled with his eyes a bit before leaning back and looking up at the ceiling..

 

"Eh, you may be right.. My Master is far beyond me in weapon prowess and in the aspect of the Dark Side. I know that is a very hard life to follow.."

 

His voice was very emotional, showing the effort taken into the discussion with his full heart. Then, something inside him reset, clicking back to normal function. Eyebrows fixed over his eyes, now coping to the comment in a completly different way..

 

"Or you might be full of crap. Either way, I'm intrigued.. Let's make a promise.. If I can make it out of here alive, then I'll follow what you said about the shadows and the light. Deal?"

 

Even though he took to the conversational so casually now, there was something about his voice that redeemed his qualities in some way; a kind of message that no matter how evil or wicked he could possibly amount to, could never lie about such a thing like their topic.

 

He even went as far to stick out his left hand to meet the distance between them, eyes now locked in a solid stare with her own.

[Skye Organa]

Skye again smiled at him as she stood up and moved through to the galley. She fixed herself a nutrient shake, putting icecream and fruits in with milk. She made enough for two and poured the thickened mixture into two tall glasses.

 

"Like one?"

 

She placed one infront of him at the table and took a seat. She had purposely let the topic drop, letting the seed mature in his mind, but the decision would ultimately be up to him regardless of what she suggested.

 

"You're life is your own Tethyn, don't let anyone tell you otherwise... and you will 'make it out of this alive' as you put it. My quarrel is not with you. But it is with your Master. How he could put your life in danger like he did with that bomb, as well as the lives of countless others."

 

She shook her head.

 

"You didn't deserve that treatment. To be made carry that bomb with little regard for your life."

 

She didn't know how Fynn was fairing, though she did hope he was going well. She was sure he would be injured from his duel, and she very much hoped that he lived, that he wasn't killed senselessly like Rizzy had been. She would grieve properly later, though she knew he was one with the force. She would miss her old padawan.

 

"Your Master has a lot to answer for..."

[Oblivion]

"Yes, thank you.."

 

Generously taking up the fruit shake, he hung himself over the cabin area, trying to relax as best as possible. The whole ordeal did take something out of him, but he tried to stay resiliant for many different reasons. Every once and again, he'd pour a small portion down his throat, consuming in a much more polite fashion then the ravenous frenzy before..

 

"Whelp, that's a good thing to know you won't kill me. But I still don't look down upon about what he did to me. It was an honor for me to carry the bomb, to feel a purpose in life to do someone's will for a greater cause then myself.."

 

"Despite his appearances, he is a good man.. Atleast I think. I'm not sure sure now, but I know he is brave, cunning, and powerful; aspects I admire. As for his past, I am not sure.. I'm not quite sure about alot of things anymore, come to think of it."

 

For a while, he fell silent, absorbed in thought, taking in what she said earlier about his life being his own. For the longest time, it never felt that way; even now..

[Skye Organa]

"Maybe he has a fair side, though from what I've seen and felt, he doesn't. I take it on another level perhaps. The Knight he killed I had trained, and the other he was fighting when we left was another of my former padawans. The reason I took you from the temple was to get that bomb dismantalled without it being set off and to save lives. That you happen to be his apprentice... I guess it would seem as out of spite or revenge. I took you to Tzeentch because I knew the bomb would be removed without lives lost."

 

Skye finished her shake and put both mugs back in the galley, cleaning them and setting them to drain. She turned again to him.

 

"Just relax for a moment."

 

She headed towards the cockpit, I-Nine meeting her before she could leave to tell her that they were almost ready for the next direction change.

 

"Set a course to Trulalis, put the shields up as we come out and head to a tropical location once we arrive."

 

I-Nine responded affirmatively and headed back to the cockpit to set in the new course. As Skye turned back to her guest, she pulled out her comm link again, sending a comm to Anoon. She spoke again to Tethyn

 

"Won't be long now till we get to our destination."

[Bad karma]

With but a portion of his questions answered Trowa followed the young woman out of the door. He skirted around the flames, taking care not to catch himself within them. He cast a curious glance up ahead at the one they had deemed Aka, drinking in her eerily dark eyes, the fire dancing within them tossing around the glee of a child. The flames caught upon her sharp teeth, causing them to shine slightly.

 

The young, olive skinned man shrugged away the girl before the door, ignoring her appearance and words to the best of his certainly mediocre ability's. He twisted his head around in a futile attempt to catch the last of what the others were talking about. The door slipped open revealing a most odd sight. Trowa stepped forward, barely glancing at the Ara before him with her mask tightly clasped onto her innocently pure face.

 

The voice of Shiro was translucent, barely heard by the ears of an evil man, he was obviously wondering about the boy and the screen behind him. He watched as the Jedi master made peace with her victim, despite how she took his life he remained such. A gently song, voice of the angels, drifted from within the ghastly mask.

 

The battle harden Sith choked down his own saliva as the song reached out to him, even as a memory. It was only then that the final note hung in the air for what seemed an eternity to him. He could only imagine how long it would have seemed to Ara...The blood gushed out, missing the Jedi and seeming to pass through Trowa hitting the wall. It was a most surreal moment, affecting the man more then any of the others around him could imagine.

 

It was somewhat in this manner that his wife had been killed, slain before his eyes. Brutally, unforgiving...they had taken her from him as he ran to stop them, only to catch a spray of her blood across his body. It was the one moment of his life he wished to forever cleanse himself of, but the one moment he would never forget.

 

A visible shudder slipped through him, unnoticed by himself. He couldn't help to stare at the young boy as his life's fluid seeped out of his body slowly, agonizingly slow. He wanted to find a button to speed it along, he couldn't watch it anymore. He turned to face the females and moved swiftly towards them, his voice a mere whisper as he passed them.

 

"Enough, lets go."

[Ara-Lai Kaipi]

Shiro nodded, understanding the man's feelings on the matter. "Sorry for any duress this is causing...we're only hoping you can wake Ara again, perhaps help bring her to sanity somehow. Otherwise, we'll be stuck in that room or just outside her body, watching her waste away." She frowned. "And no one else will see us, either. Quite frankly, I didn't know you'd be able to see us, even in here, but in any case..."

 

She glanced sadly at the lifeless young man and to Ara before lifting her hand and snapping her fingers neatly. The scene seemed to fastforward, the blood dripping down the walls in triple-speed, Ara pacing around the room at the same speed. Shiro looked momentarily at Trowa. "There's more to this scene that you should see. It might answer some questions you have." She snapped her fingers again, and time slowed back to it's normal pace for the memory, with Ara leaning quietly against the wall.

 

Pinku seemed in better spirits, and hopped over next to Ara, sitting down beside her. "I love this song! I sang it with her, even if she couldn't hear me," she said, closing her eyes and weaving back and forth to the slow beat of the melody. At the same time, Ara and Pinku broke into a soft, quiet song, a prayer, a hymn.

 

Soon enough, the others joined in, one by one, even Aka and Kuro in their rough-edged voices, all adding harmony to Ara and Pinku's lead. Shiro watched demurely, taking Trowa by the shoulder and pointing around the room.

 

"The smell of the blood, it got to Ara, and we felt we needed to help again," Shiro explained, just audible over the singing. The blood began to fade from the walls, from the boy's clothing and skin, his wound closing. "She couldn't use the Force to do something, so we tried to make it so we could help again, and..." There was a ringing moment of silence as all the singing stopped, leaving Ara to look around the now clean room in wonder.

 

"Even in sorrow, we managed to help her," Ao said softly.

 

Murasaki nodded. "We know she had no choice, that she regretted what she had to do to save the others. She needed to know she was not alone in this."

 

"So we helped," Kiiro added meekly from behind Midori.

 

"My best guess is her heart helped more than we did," Shiro said. "Her train of thought, her desparate want to be able to do something to help..." She began to head for the exit, motioning for the others to follow. "It let us break free of her mind, giving us more power while she sang, at the least, to help her with more than just spirits and hope. Before that, we had always been inside her, giving her guidance and letting her guide us."

 

"A bloody symbiotic relationship, eh?" Kuro put in crudely. Her voice had taken on a rough English-type accent. She swung her chair around in front of Trowa, her eyes boring into him. "'Cept we hardly get much say in anything, Aka and me."

 

"The last time you did more than speak, she ended up with a busted door and quite a few hurt family members," Hairo recalled. She slunk out of the room, not looking at anyone as she passed. "A very busted door..."

 

"And that," Shiro clarified, "was before she could use the Force. She swore never to do it again, after she saw how much it hurt those she loved, so Aka and Kuro were...restrained." Everyone had exited into the hallway, and Shiro shut the door behind them. "It's been that way ever since."

 

"Do we have to keep going?" Ao asked. She was standing just outside a particularly charred-looking door, shivering dangerously close to the flames.

 

"In order to help Ara, he has to underst--Ao, move!" Shiro said suddenly, pushing Trowa out of the way and running to Ao. The blue girl blinked before leaping into the air with a yelp. Shiro quickly whisked off Ao's outer robe, which had become engulfed in flames, and tossed it down the hallway, where the silver fire ate it up completely. Both forms relaxed, letting out long breaths.

 

"Sorry," Ao said, a blush rising to her otherwise pale cheeks.

 

Shiro waved it off. "It's all right." She looked to Trowa, knowing he'd want some sort of explanation. "The fire hurts us differently. Murasaki was badly burnt when we first saw it...it almost killed her." There was an unspoken addition to this statement: The fire can kill even us.

 

Murasaki grunted, folding her arms across her chest, tucking her sleeves close in to her. The barest of burns could be seen on her wrists, just under the sleeves, but she quickly covered this up, looking almost sheepish. She headed to the door where Shiro and Ao were catching their breaths and quickly opened it, striding in.

 

Shiro shrugged and brought everyone else in, only holding Trowa back just before he entered. "This is...what Faust did, even we could not help." She seemed to scowl momentarily. "The rum and cloth didn't help, but in any case, perhaps you can gain something from it." She pulled Trowa in and closed the door, looking at Ara where she lay on the rack, her eyes almost blank. "This was the beginning of the end for Ara's sanity, really..."

[Vladimir Faust]

As the transport carries Faust and Reagan to their destination, he calls her aside and in the presense of a group of "volunteers"- slaves they shanghaied along for this small voyage, confined to a wide, open and otherwise empty cargo bay.

 

Faust and Reagan watch from the far end, making the one they picked out for today's test stand at ease (the rest otherwise confined on the ship). In Reagan's ears, Faust gives simple instructions, whispering. The slave looks at the duo as if they were live serpents, coiled to strike.

 

"This exercise is fairly simple," he notes. "You've gained some empathic sense- now all you need do is use it to control that poor, simple minded dolt over there. Sense the emotions, then bend them to your will. You can see his explosive collar on. Use the force to convince him it would be in his best interest to take it off. He will resist as the attempt will surely kill him, but..." the Hunter shrugs. "I trust your skills in this rather menial mind trick."

[Togorian Hunter]

Sarrah's Nimbialis streaked through hyperspace along with the rest of the Death Striker task force. It was easy to see that the Togorian was perhaps a bit nervous, even edgy at the prospect of going into battle.

[Mandalore]

Mandalore locked outside of his cockpit at the white lines that made up the stars around him. He wasn't sure if the other DeathStrikers had plotted the same course he did, due to his three micro-jumps that his computer plotted as being the quickest way to his destination. During his time in transit, he ran a internal check of his suit and made sure all his weapons were primed and ready.

[Amidala Skywalker]

The YT-2400 Freedom's Reprise streaked through hyperspace on it's way to Coruscant.

 

Inside the ship, Indy was getting ready. She put on her armor, and made sure all of her weapons were fully charged and ready to go. She felt personally responsible for the lives of the four others, and she knew she should feel that way. This was their first full-fledged run, and Indy wanted to make sure that the Death Strikers would not fail. And she knew they wouldn't. She had full confidence in them. But she would not let aything happen to them, no matter what.

 

The ship continued on it's way...