Space

[Dashel Illioni]

Uriel impassively watched the monitor above the frozen form of a young woman named Petra, a former serving girl in the Palace of Onderon. Not beautiful by any standard, something cold lay frozen within her, a power waiting to be unleashed and Uriel knew where he would unleash that power.

 

Now, though, was not the time.

 

A few steps past the med bay led him to a ladder that led to the lower cargo bay. He stepped down the ladder and into the man cargo bay where a nude, unarmed Chiare toyed with a young man of twenty or so years. He looked at her in horror, backing up to stay away from her as much as possible.

 

Too lithe, too quick for him, she eventually cornered him in a corner of the bay.

 

“Playing with your food again?” asked Uriel.

 

“Always,” said Chiare in a pouting voice. “Do I have time to finish with this one?”

 

“Yes,” said Uriel.

 

He watched Chiare closed the already small gap between her and a trembling young man. The trembling increased 100 fold as she reached out with her delicate fingers and ran a long nail down the front of his shirt. Fabric ripped and the shirt fell away. Another stroke and the young man’s trousers split away leaving him naked. His hands moved of their own accord in a futile show of masculine modesty.

 

Chiare laughed, a sweet high note such gouged souls.

 

Uriel joined her in his deep bass and between the notes of exquisitely foul beauty the captives in their two foot by two foot cells froze into perfect, pregnant silence.

 

Despite everything when Chaire reached out to stroke the man as a lover might, his hands fell to his side and his eyes became clouded with fiery lust. He bowed his head to kiss her and found the truth of her when her magics announced themselves. Green mist past swirled, pooled and reached out with fingers of thin calamity that flowed through every one of the man’s orifices. The young man coughed once, then began to shrink rapidly, his essence drawn back in fat rivers of red and white that twirled over, under and through the thin green strands.

 

In minutes, she stood there, sleek and glowing with youthful health. She stooped to put on her clothes and looked down at the tiny figure that remained, a wrinkled shell of life with crimson eyes that bowed before the young woman. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms as one might a child.

 

“Thought that took longer?” asked Uriel.

 

“I was starved,” she said. “May I have another?”

 

Uriel thought the question over then turned to one of the holding pens where he kept the captives he needed as slaves, food, and test subjects. He reached into one and drug out a terrified young Irodonian whom tried to cower against the now closed door of his former holding cage.

 

Chaire considered Uriel’s gift to her for a moment then said, “Hmmm, this one is promising. I think I will take my time. If you come back in an hour or so, I think you will be very happy with your newest servant.”

 

Nodding his acknowledgement, Uriel strode from the middle cargo bay to the aft wall, where two doors led to the port and aft side cargo bays. He chose the port one and entered. Mounted on a pedestal and tended by a dozen of Chaire’s creations, stood the heart of Hoth. A collection of concentrated Force energy stolen by Chaire’s older self, the heart lay dormant, waiting to be plugged into the necessary receptacle on Hoth that it might again warm the Sith shrine that lay frozen and yet floated up Hoth’s seas of frozen ice.

 

One of the smallest and most intelligent of the creatures looked up with glowing eyes and hissed a question towards Uriel. Marveling he understood their variant of the Sith language, he replied back and the creature immediately turned back towards the stone and lovingly polished a spot on the artifact it perceived needing it. What the creatures saw constantly eluded Uriel, but then he didn’t worship the thing.

 

A smooth, modulated male voice, that of the Heart, sounded over the ship’s intercom. “Reversion in twenty minutes”. Uriel noted a new note to the voice, one that sounded an awful lot like the young Onderon whom recently occupied his cargo hold. Again, as many times since waking up to the three women standing over him, he wondered at the link between the Heart, the women and the enigmatic duranium and onyx ring on his left hand.

 

Stepping to a ladder next to the door he just entered he rapidly ascended to the main habitation level of his ship and stode forward to the bridge where he immediately occupied the pilot’s chair. Nubia soon loomed large in his viewscreen.

[Kala Ianauria]

As she waited aboard the 0Dawn Mistress, the modified DT-47 taken from an Imperial impound yard by her ‘Wild Bunch’, Kala and the crew reached a point where everything came down to routine. At some point, she found herself with a long stretch of off duty time and headed for the relative peace and quiet of a small, unused space aboard the tightly packed ship.

 

Stretching herself into the Force resulted in her hearing and feeling the notes of the Force-Song, allowed her to travel with the notes into a place of complete calm. Her emotions, her sense of self submerged completely, or as nearly as completely as an apprentice was capable.

 

In that moment of calm, she heard an indistinct voice singing in a unknowable distance, someone from far away and long ago. Farther back then her own doppleganger, but not by much. Stretching herself far far out, she touched just the faintest essence of the singer, a simple trill in the Force that served to say, “Hello”.

 

She waited for a response, not expecting any, and after hearing the other’s song fade out, started to submerge herself back into the full flow of the song. Then her trill returned to her along with five distinct notes took her three and added two more to it.

 

Excited, thrilled at making contact with another Exorcists, she sent back her three, the new five, and seven new ones. The resulting melody established a connection between them.

“Huh,” she thought, “now I am some kind of network interface.”

 

The spurious thought was buried when the voice of her new contact sounded in her head in a manner similar to that of Master Kyrie, only far stronger. A Master, if Kala understood the level of contact correctly.

 

“Whom are you?” asked the voice.

 

Kala thought things through before replying. She felt no malice, no hate from the being and decided that simply introducing herself might be a reasonable and friendly start.

“I am Kala ianauria, Imperial Knight and Exorcist, apprentice to Lady Kyrie.”

 

“Well met, apprentice,” said the Voice in a beautiful voice that made the listener want to meet the speaker in person.

 

“I am Exferren Ben-Havram, Master of the Confessing Order of Exorcists.”

 

Intrigued, Kala asked simply, “The Confessing Order of Exorcists?”

 

“Yes,” said Exferren, “We are researchers turned to warriors by necessity. Have you chosen an order yet?”

 

“Last time I checked, there weren’t enough Exorcists to have separate orders.”

 

The presence in the Force…smiled. At least that’s how Kala interpreted what she felt.

 

“Not in your time anyway, young Kala. In mine, while we were rare, there were enough that we could separate like unto like and reach a greater understanding together.”

 

“My time?” asked Kala, very confused.

 

“You are thousands of years removed from me dear. And yet I sense you are close in time to me too. How is that possible?” mused the voice.

 

Kala sat silently, patiently, not knowing how to respond. The idea of researching things intrigued her, of using that knowledge to create something new, something wonderful, of extending knowledge far beyond the closets frontiers

.

The voice of Exferren continued. “Ah, I see. Oh, how interesting young Kala. Thank you for bringing something new to me. That was unexpected.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“You will in time. Now, how about I begin teaching you?”

 

“Is that possible?”

 

“With the Force, all things are possible. Now relax, and let me see.”

 

“See what?” asked Kala, feeling confused and a little frightened.

 

A sensation of calm, of pure and good lightness rolled over, under and threw her fears until they burned way. As the negative feelings burned away, she felt another light join with hers, their individuals songs merged in the Force to create a stronger melody for a few fleeting moments of pure ecstasy.

 

Kala understood, fully and completely and felt further thrill and complete trust. Exferren was reading both her mind and her soul from somewhere in the far, distant past. She knew Exferren’s time as a time of danger, both present in felt about to bring great change to the galaxy. A time of peace like Kala’s time, at its final moments, but yet unknown to its inhabitants.

 

“A Healer, a creator, insatiable curious yet driven to take that curiosity and form it so that helps others. Not to mention a warrior’s spirit, one unyielding and faithful to any evil. I think I like you Kala, apprentice to Kyrie.”

 

That the Master read her very soul like an open book bothered Kala not at all. After all, she’d seen the bared power of her Master and accepted that a Master might be far, far stronger than a Knight. That strength, from her viewpoint, meant greater capabilities, some even unimaginable with her current level of understanding.

 

Something had to be taken and accepted with faith.

 

“Let me show you something,” said the Past Master.

 

The song changed and soon Kala felt herself both hearing the Force and seeing the vision of a being she’d never heard of before. Before her, she saw a living plant, one both mobile and sentient. She knew this through the Force, through the eyes of Exferren.

 

“Yes,” said Exferren, “this is an example of a Neti, most specifically Exorcist Yinnue of my order. Stretch your senses out and learn.”

 

Not knowing how she did it, Kala did as she was instructed, reaching out through time and space until she felt the notes of her song gently touch the young Neti and settle on the sentient plant. She wound her song around and through the being, guided and channeled by the notes of Exferren.

 

“What do you see, young Kala?”

 

Kala concentrated trying to form words from the incredibly vague images simmering through her consciousness.

 

“I see possibilities,” said Kala. “The cell structure, the cell structure can be adapted?” she asked softly. Adapted to what?”

 

“A question specific to you, I think,” said Exferren. “Research, you must. Notes to take, things to build, things that ask question your answers. Go now, young Kala. We will talk again.”

 

At those words, Kala felt herself both pushed and pulled back to her own mind, her own time. Light flooded her eyes even as a cool rush of pure oxygen entered her mouth and flooded her lungs. She stirred, fighting against the mask, wanting no part of it. A strong pair of hands held it in place and she resisted using the Force to push away those holding her down.

 

She stood and felt fatigue, hunger and exhaustion sway so strong she barely kept her feet.”

 

A young medic, a medical doctor in his own time, Warrant OfficerS Hwyvet looked at her in alarm.

 

“Ma’am, please calm down,” said Hwyet,”we just found you, you’ve been down her over a week.”

 

The truth of his words hit as consciousness of her body returned to her. She felt the film of filth on her body and in her hair that came from not bathing from multiple days. The smell entered her nostrils moments later.

 

The warrant officer jumped up and steadied her as she swayed again, both from weakness and embarrassment at her current state.

 

“I was meditating,” said Kala.

 

“I figured,” said the medic. When the Captain found you, he called me immediately because he knew I’d had training for just this eventuality where Imperial Knights were concerned.”

 

“What,” said Kala.

 

“Force Immersion, the kind where you forget your physical presence and risk losing your life.”

 

“Oh,” she said at a loss for words.

 

He placed his shoulder under her own and helped her from the room.

 

“If its okay with you ma’am, let’s get you to sickbay to get some nutrients into you. Should I bring you anything from your quarters?”

 

“A notepad, preferable one with Holonet access,” said Kala, “and my gear. Need to get it ready for the Operation.”

 

“Yes ma’am. But understand, I will be keeping a watch on you and if I think your overdoing anything before your fully recovered, I will put and end to it."

[Aidan Darkfire]

Their explanation roused something deep in the soul of the young Darkfire, a yearning he didn't know he'd had until it was practically laid out in front of him. It was as if his frustrations had simply untangled themselves, and his path was clear. Certain things resonated within him as he heard them, the brightest of stars burn hottest...to do the most good...to fight the hardest...a bearer of hope against the madness and the horrors of the Dark SIde.

 

This was it. He knew then that he'd made the right choice in approaching the Knights and the Empire. They were willing to do what the Jedi never did, to be proactive and take the fight to those who deserved to burn in their wickedness. In his youth, the Jedi had been responders, reacting to terrorist acts after they happened, never successful in their ventures, never caring enough or having the proper passion to track down the evil to its source and extinguish it for the good of the rest of the galaxy. To do what was necessary in the name of righteousness so that others might avoid that fate. To stand as a bulwark against the oncoming tide of the abyss, not once balking at what must be done, resolute in purpose and action.

 

He found himself with his eyes squeezed shut as those addressing him finished, the emotion welling up strongly inside him. This was what he was destined to do, this was the path he would take, to choose to take the harder road so that lesser beings wouldn't have to. He opened his eyes, and faintly they glowed silver, less from the fire of a trained exorcist and more from his lineage. In his now outstretched hand, however, there softly floated an orb of flickering silver flame. This was the representation of what he felt, this was the seed that they had planted (or was it there this whole time?). Ever so gently, he closed his fist, extinguishing it. The Jedi had taught him well to never learn or act hastily in emotion, but life had taught him emotion and passion still had a time and a place. His eyes met, one by one, with each of those present, eventually meeting Sandy's before finally settling on Kyrie, his gaze stony and cold.

 

"Teach me."

[DoctorOblivious]

Despite the efforts of the Imperial Knights, Sophia hadn’t been left behind and she had managed to race on board their vessel minutes before the preflight checklist was completed and the boarding ramp was retracted. The historian went to crew dormitory, panting and muttering something about needing to get back into shape--or any kind of shape--and that she was never going to be able to keep up with these soldiers and Jedi. The cordcam that she had misappropriated from the ship’s stores was folded neatly into a coil and tucked into an internal pocket within her jacket, which she ended up tossing into an untidy pile at the foot of the cot that she had borrowed.

 

Sitting on the bed, she took a second to check messages and alerts on her datapad, hearing the murmur of some conversation in the ship’s common room. Nothing unusual: looming deadlines, junk mail, alerts from a dozen journalists whose work that the historian followed. Her gut dropped into her bowels; the Galactic Alliance’s government was descending into authoritarianism. Everything that millions--arguably, billions--of sentients had fought and died for was being thrown into an incinerator by a kriffing fascist who was possibly exploiting a false-flag operation to seize power. The fracking idiot, the Force-damned autocrat had just desecrated the sacrifices of billions, and for what--his stupid, short-sighted ambitions? A personal grudge against the Empire? Blind obeisance to an utterly moronic, dumbfrack political philosophy that should have been left buried in the mass grave of history?

 

Seized by a sudden fury, Sophia grabbed the sleeve of her jacket and threw it against the wall of the dormitory. For a minute or two, she held her face in her hands, just breathing and willing away the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes.

 

“Come on, Soph, stow the self-pity and get to work. You can’t do any good from this bed.” The historian whispered into the silence, coaching herself into rising to her feet and quietly rejoining the Jedi in the common room. Standing just within the arch of the portal, Sophia watched as they conversed with a pair of holoprojections: the keepers of an ancient holocron, date undetermined but clearly from an era outside her area of expertise. Or the records from their time were woefully incomplete--not unusual given the age of the Order and the rather thorough attempt of Palpatine to erase all traces from galactic history.

 

“When did they live?” Sophia asked quietly, suddenly wishing that she had been a good deal more silent as she realized that she had probably spoiled a moment. Darkfire seemed to have just made a profound decision, the sort of choice that would define the course of his life for potentially decades--and the solemnity of the moment had just been ruined by an outsider who couldn’t silence her curiosity and appreciate the present.

[Sandy Sarna]

“I'm not really an envoy from the cou-”

 

And then the man added his input which stopped Sandy in her tracks. She gasped and slowly dropped to her knees in a typical Jedi Padawan learning stance. She folded her anxious hands in her lap and let her eyes widen as the two ghosts began their conversation. The man identified as Il-Andon brought up his palm to reveal a flame that glowed bright before the assembled group, reflecting in his sad expression, across grizzled features and a salt and pepper beard. Ben-Havram was beautiful and like her companion, dressed in robes, though over four thousand years old, were remarkably similar to Sandy’s own robes. The pain she projected was almost unbearable, but as lovely as the lined tattoos on her arms, the double eagle of the Tapani Freeworlds, surrounded by the forty-eight interlocked constellations making up the Expanse. The interlocking red lines between the small stars on her pale skin almost mimicked the bright pink scars on Sandy’s own arms, but more than that.

 

These were Jedi.

 

These were the heroes she had spent her childhood dreaming to be. Not diplomats, not tired old men in their halls of white, surrounded by peace and tranquility, ignorant of the pain and horror of the galaxy. They were warriors that sacrificed themselves for the good of the galaxy and were hated for it.

 

She was filled with the emotion of the realization, tears springing unbidden to her eyes, and with a few blinks to drive them away, they were falling down her scarred cheeks to land on her shallow chest. She caught the gaze of Aidan and smiled at him despite his hard expression, her emerald gaze watching him as he made his decision. She knew that she couldn’t ask to learn the Imperial’s ways but she would watch…

 

And learn.

[Raynuk Montar]

Once they were underway, in hyperspace, Raia unbuckled herself and returned to the galley, stopping to clean up the mess that the loose cup of water had made all over the table during their take off from Rish’naven.

 

She emerged several minutes later with the smell of spice in the air with two steaming hot mugs of tea in either hand.

 

“Here you go Tetis,” Raia said handing him the spiced tea she’d made for the two of them.

 

Raynuk merely grunted in as he accepted the steaming mug, placing it on the console in front of him for the moment. He had spent the few minutes he had been afforded alone to quickly scan through all the information he had gathered on the cult, and when Raia returned, he had been pulling absent-mindedly at his goatee while he read a datapad in silence.

 

Pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her palms, she held her hot mug of aromatic liquid between her hands and blew on it a few times before asking him, “What’s the plan?”

 

She didn’t share her thoughts about things appearing to be more dangerous for the Jedi than it might be to remain a Sith, but her curiosity tended to open her mind to him and he sensed it nonetheless.

 

Her actual question forced him to look up from his internal debate, but only briefly to look at her before his gaze drifted out to space before them. “I don’t have a plan yet. I find myself pulled in three directions at the same time. My dedication to the Sith, my desire to help Jaina and Tirzah, and my hatred of the cult are all demanding my attention, yet none offer clear paths forward. I have sent a message to the Dark Lord to see if he has orders for me, but until I hear back from him…”

 

And Jaina… he added to himself. “I don’t have a plan yet. Even the trail of the cult has grown cold, which is more concerning than anything else.”

[Raia Montar]

Raia frowned up at him, concern apparent on her young face as she placed her own mug of tea on the console then looked out at the mesmerizing swirl of stars beside him. She was silent beside him for several moments, before she offered, “I’ve never tried before but could it be possible to force a vision?” There was a slight note of hesitation as she voiced an idea that seemed to be a better idea than voicing it had been.

 

She still didn’t understand why the visions came when they did and why they showed what they did. Her last set had been unsettling, to say the least - war on a great scale, death, destruction, and her. A shudder ran up her spine and she reached out, picked up her mug, and took a few sips as though she were trying to warm herself up from the chilling recollection. It helped her feel better.

 

Then she smiled at him with a small giggle as she held up her mug, her mind shifting elsewhere as she tried to dispel her fear that he might agree to such an attempt at forcing a vision. “Tea. That vision I shared with Tirzah, you wore a funny hat and fought on the table. It came to mind just now. I guess not all visions are based on what’s going to happen. Sometimes they make no sense. I can make you something else if you like,” she offered. “Tea is just what my mother always made when we’d had a long day or if I was feeling sad.”

 

At some level, she'd known how conflicted his pronouncement about Tirzah had made him. It was why she'd made the herbal tea for the two of them. Her expression grew pained and her voice grew quiet as she mumbled, “I guess I just made it out of habit.”

 

She grew quiet again wishing she had more to offer him, but she was only fifteen and there was so much she still didn’t understand about the galaxy. It wasn’t like she could really even trust her visions anymore either. They’d been wrong about her helping Emily deliver her baby and the events that had unfolded during her and Tirzah’s shared vision defied any galactic logic that she’d come to see, even in her limited experience.

“There’s no way you can find them with the Force?” she asked after several minutes as Vex’aedr wandered over to give her a nuzzle. She reached up and ran her hand along his neck, meeting his dark, intelligent eyes. “They brought you back,” she ventured taking another sip, finding that the tea was helping to clear her head and relax her. “There wasn’t anything they might have left in your tomb?”

[Raynuk Montar]

By the time Raia spoke up and asked about tracking them, Raynuk had exhausted probing the depths of the information he had on the Cult, and he tossed the datapad onto the console next to the cooling mug of tea, nearly hitting the mug. He instantly felt regret over practically brushing off the gesture Raia had made, and reached for the mug before he answered.

 

He glanced at her again before shaking his head and taking a sip of the tea, testing it’s temperature. “That’s not how the Force works… Feeling presences in the Force is generally limited in several ways. There’s range for one; even the most skilled of Force users find their ability to ‘find’ someone to be limited to the same planet they’re on. I have heard of ancient Sith and Jedi being able to extend it further through deep meditation and trance-like states, but even then.”

 

He took another sip of the tea, noting to himself the unique hints of flavors. “That brings me to my next point. Usually, it is only others who are strong with the Force that you can find and identify through the Force. And from what I have seen so far, the cultist members are not strong with the Force at all. Emily mentioned they had one working with them during her… capture, but everything else I’ve seen points to that being rare.”

It has to be me. I only wish you could help…

 

Jaina’s voice came to him once more, and his eyes slid closed so he could embrace her presence. But this time the fear and grief that her words had been wrapped in previously was replaced by a feeling of steely, stubborn determination that was bonafide Jaina. Raynuk had to supress the smile that came from feeling her stubborn streak rise again.

 

Be careful then, for both our sakes… Or else I’ll have to tear the galaxy apart again.

 

It was all that he dared to send back towards her in response to her determination. Had they been having this conversation in person, he would have told her more than just those simple words. But for now he had another conversation to continue.

 

“The...connection that exists between Jaina and I is extremely rare, and I only have a general understanding of what caused it and how it works. Even then, I can’t pinpoint her across the galaxy.”

 

Taking another sip of the tea, he glanced at the datapad. “Anything that came from my tomb that I didn’t already have… was on the Shadow's Shine and likely destroyed when Emily was attacked. All I have are planets that were mentioned, but no leads on where on those planets the Cult may have been interested in. And even then, two of the planets? Lehon and Tython; two Jedi stronghold planets.”

 

He fixed Raia with a look that clearly expressed how bad of an idea going to either of those planets were.

[Raia Montar]

Raia’s mouth scrunched up as she tried to think of any other ideas that could be of some help to her father. “Is there anywhere else they’ve hit we could go? I don’t guess the Jedi would be willing to help us.” She tried to suppress a yawn while she scratched Vex under his chin. “Or maybe we both should get some sleep. It’s been a long day and I don’t think my body is used to all of the shifting of the days.”

 

She gave him a hug, “You look tired, Tetis. I hope you sleep well.”

[Raynuk Montar]

He offered her a small smile as she left, considering the answer to her question. “Goodnight meita…”

 

His gaze turned to Vex’aedr after Raia left giving his pet a hearty scratch of affection, who looked back at Raynuk with a look of ‘what now?’ before deciding to lay on the floor just behind Raynuk’s chair. He was no closer to an answer to that question than he was when Raia asked it, but was not going to be so easily swayed; Jaina had essentially told him she needed to deal with whatever was going on with Tirzah without his help, or at least deemed it not worth dragging him into it.

 

With Raia heading off to bed, Raynuk decided to take one last look through all the information gathered before him, figuring another run through couldn’t hurt. As though prophecy was at work again, as the minutes began to tick by, Raynuk did find himself feeling tired, just as Raia had claimed he looked. But wanting to get through the datapads before he did head off to sleep, he took another sip of the tea, before placing the mug on the decking to make room for the slew of datapads.

 

Unfortunately, the tea didn’t seem to be helping all that much, and at one point as Raynuk reached up to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, a datapad slid off his lap and clattered to the floor. Vex’s head shot up, looking at Raynuk.

 

“Sorry bud… Just tired I guess.” Raynuk soothed at the tuk’ata, and then reached for the mug once more.

 

Vex’s curiosity saw the tuk’ata sniff at the mug, but instantly began a low growl, and forcefully bumped his head against Raynuk’s arm as the Sith stooped over to retrieve the datapad after taking another sip of the tea.

 

“Okay, okay… Maybe you’re right.” Raynuk sighed, tossing the datapad onto the console in front of him, and attempted to sling himself to his feet; the data was the same as it had been the last time he looked, and pushing off the sleep his body was apparently telling him he needed wouldn’t help.

 

He almost instantly lost his balance as he stood up, catching the back of the pilot’s chair thankfully, and then shook his head harshly. Vex’aedr again headbutted him, and Raynuk grumbled and began making his way out of the cockpit slightly perplexed.

[Raia Montar]

Once the Ravenhammer had grown quiet, she stirred from her bunk, reaching out with the Force to ensure the tea had done its work. Without making a sound, Raia slipped from her bed and through the open door to the central living area checking to see that the ship had indeed stilled for the night. Closing her darkened grey eyes for a moment, the tattooed girl took a moment to still her presence within the Force to give the illusion that she was still sleeping.

 

Creeping across the living area, she saw that Vex’aedr’s door was shut and locked the room for good measure. As she turned, Raia caught her reflection in the refresher mirror in the room across from the one that had been modified to accommodate Raynuk’s precious pet. A twisted smile warped her face as she took in the now wholly black tattoo that stood out sharply from her pale skin, exposed entirely because of the white, thin-strapped tank she wore.

 

The elegant crimson and navy design that had initially been growing from the binding symbol at the base of her collarbones had warped into a more angular design. Pulling her loose, dark hair from the back of her shoulders, she turned to admire the lines as they now angled down her shoulder blades and along her spine. Satisfied for the moment, she moved toward the galley and quietly drew a long chef’s knife from the drawer where she’d seen them kept.

 

As she turned toward the door that stood between her and Raynuk, she halted as though wrestling with what she now felt compelled to do. The whisperings within her mind grew louder, reaching a crescendo as she reluctantly took a step forward, then another.

 

Raynuk had no reason to lock his door, primarily when she was the lone passenger on his ship, and he trusted in his abilities to sense danger coming from anywhere. At least he would have been able to under normal circumstances, but the tea she’d given him before they’d both turned in for the night had contained a powerful sedative and paralytic agent masked by the flavor of the spices. The dual agents would significantly dull his senses and considerably slow his movements, giving her just the window she’d need to complete the act that the warring voices inside her head promised would set her free of them.

 

Pressing her hand to the pad, the door slid open to the darkened room and from the dimmed lighting in the living area, she could make out his still form

 

“It’s me, Tetis,” she called quietly in a small voice. “I keep having nightmares…”

 

Slowly she moved to the edge of the bed, gauging his position and movement carefully.

 

The concoction she’d made seemed to be working since he moved as though he were still mostly asleep. It was a promising sign, so she sat on the edge of the bed as the internal war raged within her once more. Outwardly the effect would only echo the same dream-haunted looks he’d seen before.

 

As the forces within won out, the hand clutching the knife raised and moved swiftly toward its mark, deadly purpose evident. Her eyes took on a golden hue as she slashed out toward his throat leaving its mark along his flesh. It was enough to draw blood, but not placed in such a way that the cut would take his life, not yet anyway.

 

Her dark hair fell forward as she leaned to whisper in his ear, “I warned you about the dead wood, Quietus,” his daughter’s voice had grown deeper, and dual in tone as hers mixed with the one issuing from her throat. “At least this one is still malleable and has potential to be of use to me, unlike you. The Warrior King has grown weak, it seems.”

The knife rose once again, this time aimed at his heart as an unholy laughter erupted from Raia’s throat.

[Raynuk Montar]

Despite how tired Raynuk had felt in the few minutes before he succumbed to sleep, his slumber was anything but peaceful, filled with fevered-dreams and cold sweat. He saw visions of his own past, memories of the harsher moments of his life; killing his family, watching planet after planet fall to the scourge of the Tiamat insectoids, Zar’s death at their hands, the fall of Cloud City; all came back to him as intense visions spurred by what he could not yet know to be the drugs Raia had slipped him.

 

The sound of his door sliding open woke him, but the drugs and tormented sleep left him far more groggy and out of sorts than was normal. It was enough for a part of his mind to start throwing up red flags,

 

“It’s me, Tetis, I keep having nightmares…” He heard Raia’s voice, though distorted by his addled mind, enough so that he was struggling through the fog to respond.

 

She moved to the side of his bed, and he saw the haunted look on her face that lasted for only a few seconds, but then everything changed. The Force tried to warn him, slamming into the fog of his mind repeatedly, each time penetrating further, but those nanoseconds made all the difference as Raynuk, momentarily trapped within his own body, watched the knife rise and slash towards him. The blade connected with his neck, cutting through skin and drawing blood as was likely intended; not nearly enough for a kill-strike, but severe nonetheless.

 

“I warned you about the dead wood, Quietus…“

 

The voice that emerged following the slash was a voice that was decidedly not Raia; at least, not hers alone. Even through the haze of his mind, he recognized the second, layered voice.

 

"At least this one is still malleable and has potential to be of use to me, unlike you. The Warrior King has grown weak, it seems.”

 

And as Raia’s body twisted to make the second strike straight for his heart, he caught the light reflecting off her eyes to be golden; a feature that sealed the identity of the voice. For a brief second, it seemed Raynuk’s fate was sealed; to be killed in his own bed by his adopted daughter under the influence of a malevolent former Sith that he once called friend and brother, one who days before Raynuk and the other members of the Trinity had purged from Telperian and the Korriban temple as a whole. Or so they thought. But as proved before by his eventual failures and confinement, Ar-Pharazon had failed to take everything into account, and had miscalculated.

 

Raynuk’s earned title -- The Warrior King -- was not lightly given to him by any means. Both under his true name and that of Darth Quietus, he had earned the title by becoming the apex of the Warrior caste of Sith. And one of the cornerstones of his abilities, was to take injury, pain, and punishment against him, and to turn it and feed upon it to enhance his prowess. And now, the vengeful presence had forced his daughter to cut his throat.

 

It had given Raynuk injury and pain; it had given Quietus fuel for the fire. The pain and rush of blood at his neck ignited the fire within his mind, burning away what remained of the addled fog as the Force’s warning and embrace rushed back to fill every corner of his mind. With one slash, the spirit had undone all the carefully planned dulling of Raynuk’s powers.

 

But there was another within the room, who had not been so hamstrung by tainted tea. Vex’aedr, who had gotten a whiff of the tainted tea in the cockpit and sensing its nature, had refused to leave Raynuk’s side, even after his master had mistaken the tuk’atas warning filled headbutts and growls as suggestions to go to sleep. Vex’aedr had chosen not to return to the room set aside for him, and had instead found a spot on the far side of Raynuk’s bed, opposite from where Raia now was brandishing a knife.

 

And through his connection with Raynuk, he had felt the warning from the Force, which had awoken the beast. Vex’aedr looked up just in time to see Raia slash at Raynuk. And as he felt Raynuk’s pain, Vex’aedr reacted on instinct, vaulting from his position on the floor, to the edge of the bed, before snarling and slamming his full body weight into the smaller form of Raia.

 

Normally protective of Raia, in the tuk’atas mind, this thing was no longer the girl he guarded like a pup. The pair flew off the bed before Vex slammed Raia hard into the floor, nearly clearing the doorway back to the common area of the Ravenhammer, sending the knife slittering even further. When the body of Raia attempted to struggle, Vex’aedr harshly lifted and pounced back down, slamming her again against the floor and pinning her shoulders under each of his massive front paws, while his red eyes -- which seemed a darker, more angry shade -- stared down at the golden eyed presence that had taken over, snarling through gnashing teeth, ready to rid the galaxy of the tainted vessel if it dared to fight.

 

But Vex’aedr didn’t get that opportunity. From behind him, Raynuk came rushing out of the room in a storm of anger, and fury. With one hand pressed hard against his neck, stymying the blood pouring from within, he crossed to where Vex’aedr had Raia pinned, and then physically pushed the tuk’ata aside with his free hand. In a blur, he reached down and wrapped his hand around the girl’s neck, lifted her off the ground, and slammed her into the wall, holding her up off the ground so that her entire weight was supported only by the death grip he had on her neck.

 

“And I warned you about using others as puppets…” He snarled at the being that had taken over his daughter. “Poor little Ar-Pharazon… reduced to using teenaged girls to feel important. Still too weak and self-absorbed. I told you before you weren’t worthy of being associated with your own daughter… So you decide to try and take mine from ME?”

His voice was raising as fast as his anger. In those moments he wasn’t looking into the sweet face of his adopted daughter, but burning his gaze into the twisted face of a monster who thought himself god and paid the price.

 

Raynuk began to cackle, almost unsettlingly. “You’ve run out of places to run and hide… I will tell you again.

 

BE.

 

GONE.”

 

The last two words he practically roared.

 

Raynuk’s grip on Raia’s neck seemed to tighten, as he paused momentarily, struggling with the choice he had just made to himself. His intense eyes searched Raia’s face for a moment, and then he spoke again, his voice so level and even it was disturbing.

 

“Raia… I know you’re still in there. I need you to understand. I’m sorry. And I love you.”

 

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, even as her hands clawed at his futilely, before managing to blink just once.

 

He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. And then, less than a second later, wrenched his hand that continued to encompass her neck sideways and tightened his grip with all his might, intentionally snapping the neck of his adopted daughter to free her of her demons, before letting her body fall to the floor before him, his eyes sliding closed as she fell.

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

The cockpit of Jaina's old familiar YT-1930 may not have borne the dust of twenty years any longer, but it bore up against an uncharacteristic silence that made it seem hollow and deadened. Once, it had been filled with the chattering between two sisters, the witty banter of a beloved outcast, or the hum of clashing lightsabers as her trusted friend tested the fledgling skills of her daughter. Even the beeps and whirs of her astromech were ghosts in this sanitized air that yielded no trace of the life that had been lived within its walls. The Hope was not only shields and turrets, engines and converters, hyperdrives and power couplings. This had been her refuge, her home, her sanctuary and her temple. Opened, like her heart, only to those worthy of trust and affection, it was the key to the galaxy and quick escape. Andon had walked these corridors. Ashley had walked these corridors. Tirzah had walked these corridors.

 

Raynuk had walked these corridors.

 

How strange that the first time he should step foot on her ship had been in her absence. It was oddly fitting, given the circumstances of her return at his unwitting behest, fashioned out of the rib of his reawakening, but it did nothing to help the crawling she felt on her skin. Every few minutes, she became thoroughly unable to restrain herself from looking over her shoulder, even after a thorough examination with her senses announced that there was nothing untoward on her ship.

 

Trying to keep her destination out of mind, Jaina moved about the ship as it plowed through the glowing aura of hyperspace, busying herself first in the galley, then in the workshop tinkering with the confiscated lightwhip, then... standing alone beside the bench where she and Tares had traded stories over cups of caf late into the circadian night. It seemed that nothing she could do would put the silence the reminders of the ones she had lost. Uncomfortably, she dined with spectres of the soul, endured them beside her in her bunk, held them in the empty air of her arms as her hands rested on the captain's console. The Solaris technicians had even removed the reassuring hiccup of the Hope's hyperdrive. There was no comfort to be had in the long journey towards the danger and confusion that awaited her on Nhagathul.

 

The Traitor's Hope was haunted.

[Raynuk Montar]

For a long while, Raynuk simply stood there in that spot, as his rage, anger and blood fueled rush of power receeded like the tide of a great ocean. Long, sometimes ragged breaths flowed in and out of him, all the while his eyes remained closed, denying himself the sight of Raia, broken and crumbled on the floor at his feet.

 

Vex’aedr had calmed much more rapidly, likely having his own aggression shattered into confusion the moment Raynuk broke the Raia pup. The great white tuk’ata was now pacing around the room slightly, emitting low whines every time he got close to Raynuk. Vex’aedr didn’t know what to do with this situation now.

 

After what felt like an eternity in his own mind, Raynuk finally moved, turning and walking away from the point in his ship. He took a full five strides before he even dared open his eyes, trusting his own memory of his ship’s layout to not send himself careening over a chair or table in the common area. He said nothing, for there was no one to speak to besides Vex, who had already fallen into following Raynuk, albeit at a comfortable distance. The Sith descended to the lower level of the Ravenhammer, walking first to the compartment where 2-VSH stood, shut down to recharge in his dock. Raynuk slammed the button on the side of the recharge dock, and then turned to head to the medical bay, hand still pressed into his neck, not even waiting for the droid to fully come online again.

 

2V came online earlier than his internal timer had been set for. Having assumed that Raynuk and Raia were going to stay overnight within Emily’s compound on Rish’navin, the droid had set himself to shut down until morning, figuring that the two humans wouldn’t require his services or presence until then. But now the droid had been reactivated a full three hours ahead of schedule, and was presented with only the retreating form of Raynuk as the man passed through the doorway towards the medical bay. 2V began to move, then realized that he was still tethered to the port, meaning Raynuk had only gone so far as to awaken the droid but not disconnect him.

 

<> the droid vocalized, looking at the doorway again before disconnecting himself and beginning to follow where Raynuk had gone.

 

Whatever semblance of begrudging the droid had developed over being left tethered in those few seconds, was wiped as he entered the medical bay, and saw that Raynuk’s neck and entire right side of his clothing was stained and wet with blood. Raynuk was sitting on the medical cot, right hand covering what the droid assumed was a neck wound. And judging by the look on his master’s face, conversation was not going to be a positive experience.

 

So instead, 2V did what was likely expected of him; he remained silent, and moved to gather the necessary medical supplies to treat and bandage the wound, and set to work, attempting to ignore the near snarls that Raynuk emitted as the droid poked and prodded at the wound.

 

<>

 

The droid just couldn’t help himself, and Raynuk knew that. But that fact didn’t do much to prevent the death glare he gave his droid, who merely nodded itself back into silence in response. Eventually though, Raynuk spoke, oddly calm considering the circumstances.

 

“When we’re done here I need… I need you to go upstairs, and… and move her. Into her room.” He managed to say.

 

<>

 

“Raia. Somehow, she was possessed by the presence of Ar-Pharazon. Must have happened on Korriban, when I thought we banished him. He manipulated her into trying to kill me in my sleep.” He began explaining, the last portion being uttered through gritted teeth of anger.

 

“I had to… do something. I snapped her neck. Out of mercy.” He continued, sounding equally like he was attempting to convince himself that he had made the correct choice.

“She’s still up there by my room. So, again, I need you to go upstairs, and move her into her room. And shut the door.”

 

<>

 

Raynuk had rarely seen 2V at a loss for words, which just proved how strange and dire the situation was. But for the moment, he couldn't deal with seeing her broken by his hand, even as right as the decision had been. Until this was all sorted out, Raynuk knew one thing.

 

The Ravenhammer would be haunted.

[Kyrie Eleison]

The Ghosts of Ben-Havram and Rorik watched Aidan develop his fire, and their interest was also found in Kyrie, whose small smile portrayed the joy of a teacher in the accomplishments of her student. The Imperial General nodded to Aidan and reached out with the Force to probe the flames he held aloft, and the emotions that roiled beneath. Her voice was reflective as she spoke

 

“The Force has laid the foundations for your flame in your life already. For me it was the crucible of war which bound me to… Life and the protection of the innocent. I have felt, and still feel the passion of life rushing like a maelstrom through my veins.”

 

Il-Andon stroked his beard with one hand, and continued in instruction

“Passion. A dangerous word, with connotations that invoke the whispers of heresy and the “Dark Side” within the Jedi Ranks. It was with passion for life, with passion for those we love, we find the strength bind the darkness to ourselves. Emotionless drones are worthless fighters, and worth far less in the service of the light.”

 

The Imperial General leaned forward, casting her light about her as a cloak, and from its veil she wove the flame into stories. Her battle against the Sith Lord Lockjaw, the grimey Barabel, the servant of the Lord of Sloth. The clash of blades, her defense of the Jedi, a lone warrior against the horde of the Sith. It was not from emotionless peace she had found the strength to best her opponent, to cast down his sin and purify his evil from the land. It was from her passion, her love of her Master, and the will to protect those who would die without her intervention.

 

“Aiden, your legacy is in your hands, the lineage of abandoned forebears. Find what binds you to this life, and onto that fire throw all unnecessary things, and it will overpower the darkness.”

 

Il-Andon turned to Sandy, his eyes glittering like diamonds as he assessed her.

 

“A Jedi Knight falls to her knees? You have yet to break from the shackles of the weakness of your past. That weakness… Forged by your own hand or by your training has made you like glass beneath your pale skin. Begging for a shatterpoint so you can abandon your strength and run. Yet… Within you lies a fire which you have concealed with your fear. Love… Does not love lead to the darkside? Your training drives you to walk the knife’s edge of humanity and the Jedi. A paradigm of weakness, your division.”

 

His admonishment turned to kindness

 

“Humanity has far greater strength. To love is to rejoice in the very best this galaxy has to offer, to frolic in the fields of joy, and in that lies a strength. There is no more a courageous fighter than those who fight in their homeland, spilling their blood for every town and glen, to protect those whom they love. From love comes the will to lay down your own life to destroy the evil that threatens them…”

 

Ben-Havram’s voice added a small caution

 

“In love, there also lies a weakness, for in love unrequited there is the seed of bitterness where in springs the dark. Be cautious, young Sarna upon whom you bestow your graces and heart, but never deny your humanity. Your humanity makes you strong in the face of opposition. Your duality of soul will be your undoing. ”

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Exiting the repair bay, sweaty with the exertion of running through her lightsaber kata, Jaina's bare feet carried her to the cockpit, where she fell into the captain's chair with a whoosh of air accompanying a miniature dust cloud. A lengthy healing trance had done wonders for her physical state, which had been all but depleted by the time she departed Kashyyyk. But the downside of consciousness and solitude was that she had far too much time to think, and the more time went on, the more she was anxious about what she might find upon arrival at Nhagathul.

 

It had been utterly foolish to turn down the help she had been offered, but Jaina's pride was far too significant to attempt to reach out to her Jedi allies. It was absolutely certain that if Raynuk ever got word about where she was headed, he would either drop everything to help her or try to talk her out of it, and neither one was acceptable. He had Raia to look after, and Jaina didn't want her on Nhagathul any more than she wanted Tirzah there. Besides which, there were the implications of his last thought that rang through her soul, and the Jedi Master could not let her hopes drift there. Skirting the issue would have to be the modus operandi for the time being.

 

There was one more person who deserved to know what she was getting herself into, but Jaina found herself admittedly hesitant to reach out. Since deigning to remain silent following Emily's desperate messages on Corellia, she had been nervous to breach the gap between them. Their lack of communication had been a no-mans-land, and a comforting touch from far across the galaxy did little to assuage her reticence.

 

However, she had felt the same way about Raynuk, and all of that had evaporated the minute she stood across from him, the enmity of years evanescing in a single second. Perhaps the same would be true of her alienated niece.

 

On instinct, she pulled the lever, dropping out of hyperspace into seemingly infinite nothingness. She had a decently strong signal on the long-range comm, despite the blackness of the exterior, and toggled it to life.

[Emily]

Emily's voice answered the comm after only a few moments. "Jaina..." Emily's voice was cautious, but not cold. "It's been a while."

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Jaina sighed. Some part of her was hoping Emily would not answer, that she could have avoided the conversation one more time. Her tone was not exactly accusatory, but it certainly did not ooze with warmth or make it any easier to be vulnerable. Reconciliation would be harder over distance, but she had to try. Mind racing with a myriad of different ways to start the conversation, the silence grew almost unbearable when she finally blurted out, "I'm sorry.

 

"I should have been there for you, but I couldn't see past my own hurt."

 

It was a weak beginning, but an honest one, at least.

[Emily]

It was a start. Emily gave a small sad smile. "Thank you," she said simply. "I...I wish you had come. But I can't fault you. Things between us...they're just starting. But I’ve already set it off on the wrong foot. You know nothing of me but anger and jealousy, and I regret that. I wish we had been able to start off well."

 

She had more to say, but she was going to keep it simple.

[Pinckz]

The clunky poacher ship rolled out of hyperspace with a terrible lurch, sending Malin tumbling from the pilot’s chair to the cold deck plates. His greasy unwashed hair smooshed into his face and the back of his head punched the metal with an uncomfortable pop. His hat slipped a little but remained near the Smuggler’s matted dome.

 

“T’ain’t right. Glad no one saw that…” Malin said to the silence.

 

He used his arms to levy himself to his feet and ease himself back into the chair, just in time to see the large spaceborne junkyard sail into view. The words ‘Big Will’s Scrap Emporium’ hovered for a moment before the bloated ship carried on to the docking bay. Malin gripped the yoke with his gun-hand and, for a moment, his face contorted with discomfort. The grip was all wrong. The head of the yoke was designed for someone with bigger hands. It felt awkward in his mitted fingers. Still, it was decently sensitive and he maneuvered the whale at a decent pace before parking it in the scrapyard’s well-appointed pier.

Big Will huh? Sounds like ‘ole willy is over-compensating for something.

 

Malin limped his way to the airlock, wiping the sweat from his brow and keeping his head on a swivel. He dropped his spear crutch when he arrived and began locking himself in a vac suit because the scrapyard was open to space. He had to shuffle to a bench and pull the suit on with a lot more care than usual. But he managed alright. He winced a few times when the suit pushed against his wound and had to compensate for the pain, but that was to be expected. When the last seal was clipped on his suit, the smuggler stood up, grabbed his crutch and started the airlock procedure. He waited patiently and was surprised to find a welcoming party waiting for him, with guns drawn.

 

Malin stuck both of his arms up. His crutch dropped and the Smuggler almost fell to the ground again. “Hey there! I-uh… what’s with the guns fellas?”

 

Malin looked up at two very angry Weequays in vac suits holding T-21 rifles and aiming them square at Malin’s head. They didn’t respond. But, they didn’t shoot him either. Which was good.

 

A squirrelly figure walked through the center of the bookending Weequays. He was a half a foot taller than Malin and had a head of messy black hair obscured beneath his vac suit. His pure green eyes picked clear the smuggler’s veil and looked directly into Malin’s pale blue soul. Then, the scrawny man smiled. “Malin, as I live and breathe. What brings you to my side of Coruscant?”

 

Malin’s wearied face cracked a small smile, but his hands were still up. “Nothing much. The Weequays are new.” Malin said, pointing at the two angry aliens with his eyes.

 

“Yeah, with conflict ramping up in the galaxy, I needed a little extra insurance. Now, what brings Sergeant Wrynn to my humble abode.”

 

The rank made Malin’s face visibly cringe. He looked away from the scrawny fella and tried to avoid his gaze. “Like I said Billy, nothing much. I need to sell some things and I need to find a solution to my problem appendage. Other than that, I’m stopping for a moment to catch my breath.”

 

“Billy? Is that the best you got? Ha.” Will scoffed. “To and Bo, hold your fire. Watch him, but let him come in. If he has some business with us like he says, we’ll hear him out. In the meantime, I want to inspect the ship.”

 

“Oh,” Malin said. His mind rolled over the bloodstains on the deck plates, the smells of battle and the hidden cache of loot. “You don’t need to do that Willy, there’s nothing nefarious, I promise.”

 

“Yeah, well, excuse me if I don’t trust the word of a deserter. To and Bo, take Mr. Wrynn inside and make sure he’s comfortable.” Will said before turning to move his way further into the poacher’s ship.

 

Kriff…

 

Malin felt the strength of the Weequay as they picked him up and started carting him into the floating junkyard.

Edited October 15, 2017 by Guest

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Tiny hands wrapped around hers on the control yoke of the Rapture Star, and the giggles of the toddler on her lap drove Jaina's heart to a different kind of frenzy, swelling such that she thought it would burst. Raxus Prime loomed large in the horizon, and the disgruntled mutters from Vee, the protocol droid, echoed from the hold as he clanked around. But every lurch of Jaina's stomach was worth it as the ship, its inertial dampeners dialed down, bucked and rolled at the whims of the girl who had slept almost the entire way here from Corellia. Andon's firm hands held Jaina affixed to her seat, and hers in turn held tight to the little one, until at last Jaina resumed control of the ship and brought it in on its final approach into Emily's childhood home.

 

Jaina shifted the girl to her hip as she walked toward the ramp, balancing the child on her burgeoning belly. A hot, sticky palm pressed to her face as the familiar metallic scent of iron assailed her olfactory senses, and the little girl's wide eyes glanced up at her. "You stay with me, Aunt Jaina?"

 

Hot tears rolled thickly down her face and Jaina found herself instantly grateful that this conversation was audio-only. Swallowing several times to clear the viscous emotion from her throat, she finally managed to speak, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

 

"We did start off well," Jaina said quietly. "Sweetheart, we started off so well."

 

A shaking hand passed over her face. "So much has happened that you can't possibly be expected to know about, and I should have stayed, I should have explained it all, every last question, until you and I had no more secrets left. Instead I ran, like I always do.

 

"It's too easy for me to be selfish, and I should have been there. I never got to raise the baby I wanted more than anything, and when I found out that you..." Strangled by her pounding heart, she couldn't continue, the grief still too fresh, her anxiety too raw. Subconsciously, she reached for the strings of Raynuk's presence, desperate for some measure of comfort. "I want to be there for you and the baby, but I don't know how."

[Emily]

Jaina's reminder of their long past lanced Emily's heart. Tears, her omnipresent companion, found their way onto her face again. "Through it all, we're still family," she replied quietly. "You and Tirzah...you're all I have left. The baby..." she trailed off, then took a deep breath. It had been worse telling Raynuk; she could say it again. "The Cult of Morthos...they tracked my transmission when I asked you to come to Coruscant. They pounced as soon as I left the atmosphere. They captured me. I fought with every breath, but I failed. They..." she couldn't choke back the sob, "Aunt Jaina, they killed my baby. Tore open my womb and slaughtered it and dumped me on Carida."

 

She steadied herself, but her voice was raw and haunted. "Please...you're all I have left."

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

Roiling waves of nausea were like an earthquake in the foundation of her equilibrium. Its magnitude was relentless, cruel in the most vicious way, but nothing she could do would stem its tide. This was no attack through the Force, simply the fracture of a mother's heart and the overwhelming ever-present guilt.

 

The Cult had tracked her transmission. Followed Emily's ties to Jaina, took their vengeance on the niece before laying their clutches into Jaina's daughter once more. As they had stolen her from under the nose of three Jedi, they had sunk their teeth into Tirzah again. Raynuk's child had perished before it had even tasted the clear air of the galaxy around it. Emily, like Jaina, robbed of motherhood before she had a chance to hold her baby.

 

"They have Tirzah," she said with foreboding, when the implications hit full-force, and she repeated the words numbly. "They have Tirzah. She's trapped on Nhagathul."

[Emily]

"No!"

 

The exclamation was breathy, whispered in horror. It was too much. On top of everything they had done, now they had targeted Emily's cousin? With a flash, she remembered her vow on Carida--no one else will suffer as I have.

 

"No," she suddenly repeated firmly. "No, Jaina, we will save her! I won't let them take her, too. Not while I have breath left. Let me come. Let me help. Please. I know I've made a mess of things. I know I've hurt you and others and I have very few redeeming qualities...but I can fight, and I will fight, as long as I can, to protect Tirzah. For you, and for Uncle Andon."

[Jaina Jade Skywalker]

"You can't... I can't ask you to..." All the protestations that sprang to mind died on her lips. Hadn't she just been yearning for a companion, an ally on this doomed venture? Emily was strong in the Force, devoted to Tirzah in a way that no one except Jaina herself would have cause to be. It would be worse for her to be friendless, aimless, wallowing in loss, and wandering a wider galaxy that only wanted to make an end of her than it would be to follow Jaina into the nothingness of Nhagathul.

 

Glancing at the console before her, she assessed her current location. "I'm several thousand lightyears away from Rattatak. Meet me there?"

[Emily]

"I'll leave right away. Just--maybe don't tell Raynuk, if you talk to him. He wants me to rest and recover. As if I could sit by and let them get their claws on her..." Emily's voice trailed off. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't worry, Jaina. We're in this together."

 

There was a click, and the comm ended.

[Raynuk Montar]

Once his wound had been tended to, Raynuk and 2V headed back upstairs to the main level. Raynuk said nothing futher to the droid, merely diverting and heading into the cockpit, while 2V began heading towards the common room, but stopped.

 

<

 

“We’re going to get her to a cloning facility.” The answer was short, curt, and the only answer the droid would get. So, resigned to the directions it had, 2V proceeded to carry out Raynuk’s wishes.

 

Had the droid not been told specifically that the girl was dead, 2V would have mistaken Raia for sleeping, albeit at a very odd and uncomfortable looking position. Possessing nowhere near the sentiment that Raynuk and Vex’aedr had towards the girl, 2V simply bent over, grabbed her ankle, and began dragging her across the floor towards the girl’s room on the ship. A whine from behind him caused 2V to turn and noticed that Vex’aedr had followed the droid, and was now sitting in the doorway watching as Raia was dragged across the ship like a piece of furniture.

 

<>

 

 

Vex cocked his head to the side in what appeared to be confusion before 2V waved the pet off and continued with its task. Opening the door to Raia’s room, the droid continued in, initially intent upon just leaving Raia’s body in a pile on the floor just inside the room. But persistant as ever, Vex has followed, and was now nudging the droid and then looking at the bed, indicating his own thoughts on the matter.

 

His memories of having Vex and Roe gnawing on his arm sparking back to relevance, 2V uttered a mechanical sigh and scooped the body up in both of his long arms and placed it on the bed, then turned to the tuk’ata.

 

<> 2V said before striding out of the room, considering the task complete.

 

Vex’aedr watched the droid leave, then turned back to look at Raia’s body for a moment before hopping up onto the bed beside her. Over the course of the next few minutes, Vex gently nudged at the body in various spots, resulting in Raia’s body coming to rest in a position that was more dignified than the one in which 2V had deposited her.

 

Now lying on her back, her arms both resting on her abdomen, Vex finished his ‘input’ by licking at the sides of her face, slicking her hair back away from her face. And then, satisfied with his work, Vex carefully laid down next to Raia’s body, and rested his muzzle on her hands facing her face, as though he expected a breath of life to return to her.

 

----

By the time 2V had entered the cockpit, Raynuk had made several course corrections after settling on the location he would be taking the Ravenhammer and Raia to, and was now sitting in silence, fiddling with minor controls here and there. The droid clanked its way in and made its way to the copilot’s seat, taking its position there.

 

<>

 

Raynuk let out a sigh that physically shook him before he turned to look at the droid.

 

<<...Where are we going?>>

 

“The only place I trust enough to clone her, and keep us all off the radar. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the bounty on my head.” Raynuk answered, turning back to the stars that streaked by before him.

 

He felt the briefest of passing touch from Jaina, but restrained himself from reaching back to her; she had enough on her mind to worry about with Tirzah for him to burden her with the knowledge of what he had just been forced to do. Indeed, there was a tangible amount of shame that was draping itself over Raynuk, weighing heavily on him. Just as the demon had done before, Ar-Pharazon had manipulated Raynuk over matters of his heart, leading to the death of one close to him. Before it had been just before Raynuk’s eventual destruction of Cloud City, when Ar-Pharazon, along with Delta and Terra, had brutally murdered Emily at his feet, forcing Raynuk to allow it to happen. Now the demon had forced Raynuk’s hand to take the life himself.

 

But the choice had been his this time; a choice that he had to remain confident would free Raia of both the demon’s tainted presence, and from the tattoos that had been forced upon her by Furion that she despised so much.

 

“Is it done…?” He asked, breaking the hold the thoughts had on him.

 

<>

 

Raynuk simply nodded, and the cockpit fell back into silence.

 

------

 

With a near eternity of silence behind them, Raynuk reached forward and pulled the Ravenhammer back into subspace. The view before them filled with the darkness of space, a single planet of brown and greens, and a singular, large triangle shaped ship floating in high orbit, painted an almost gaudy shade of gold that reflected the light of distant stars.

[Aidan Darkfire]

Aidan nodded, thinking deeply about what Kyrie had just said. It was something that would certainly stick with him. He simply waited for further instruction.

[Sandy Sarna]

Sandy looked guiltily up at Aidan and quickly looked back at Ben-Havram, she nodded solemnly, her heart saddened by the words. But also a resolve formed there, not bitterness, but a love, no matter the future, she wouldn’t stop thinking of him. It would probably end in disaster, but she was bound to him in her own heart, and that bond would not break easily. Even for the words of a Jedi Crusader from Eons before.

 

“I fall to my knees to learn master Revanchist, I am weak, but I will grow out of it in time, to live to love, not self harm.” She winced to herself, and considered what the next teaching might be. Her emerald eyes drifting around the room from Kyrie to force ghost to Aidan and back.

[Delta73]

A comm comes for the beautiful lady Jedi Master JAINA JADE SKYWALKER

 

 

Hey are we still meating up on Manaan? If not lets meat up somewhere else? Also how is the kid? I can totally babysit her if there's some Jedi stuff going on.