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The tousled head of chestnut hair bobbed as the girl Hayley greated the Prince in all his dignity. He seemed like any other dignitary, a smile heavy with coy charisma, but a mask of true intentions. She extended her hand and shook the man’s much larger one. He dwarfed her in size, but she was not afraid.

 

“We go to the world of Wookiees then, to meet our mutual master.”

 

She passed the Prince a datapad of navicomponets, as well as a coding beacon so they would be annihilated when they came out of Hyperspace.

 

-To Kashyyyk-

 

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Exodus moved towards the child and appraised the desperation of emotion that took over her facial expressions. She suffered no hesitation to such vile actions, and as she finished, her moral compass was void and her famine worsened. This one was far different than that of the last apprentice, this much was sure. The Dark Lord of the Sith brushed passed the basins of blood that now imbrued the small feet of Telperiën. With his left he clutched just beneath her jawline and pulled her face forward, measuring the primal look inside of her eyes. With his opposite hand now, skin as cold as solid frost, he traced through the rivulets of blood that ran down her face. Exodus was drawing, primitively so, a ritualistic Sith pattern. The red blood-paint was plenty, and the illustrations began to drive the appearance of a mythical evil spirit. “Your want is instinctive dear child, like these animals, they live and die on impulse desire— A third man rushed into the chambers, stepping passed the two troopers with haste. He lifted his hand quickly to emphasize the importance of what he had to say, and then strangely paused. “My Lord. What.. happened?” His blue face was twisted in horror, disgusted with the amount of blood that covered the floors, in awe of the prisoner with his neck torn out.

 

“The child had quite the appetite,” Exodus laughed briefly, the trace of sarcasm was hard to notice. “You had a message for me, Advisor?” His voice stern this time. “Yes, my Lord. Urgent.” The Chiss Advisor leaned forward and handed him an outdated communications unit, a unit bridged to a channel unused for many years. Exodus accessed the cached message and listened thoroughly to a thinly familiar voice. His expression did not change, but the information that quietly poured forward was shocking. The doors to the medical chambers remained opened and were guarded by the same pair of iconic S-Troopers that had slowly started to crop up in the months of Exodus' ascension and rule. The rest of this place was uncharacteristically quiet, even now despite how this apprentice had stirred. Suddenly, the blue-skinned advisor nodded and retraced his steps back into the halls from whence he came. The pair of guardsmen also nodded towards both Exodus and Telperiën, before returning to their posts. The aura around the Spider had changed thoroughly. "Little apprentice. You will find your private quarters towards the Eastern Wing. Gather your things," His gaze was still tangled in the attention of another matter, but Exodus stepped from the room and signaled one of the guardsmen to show her the way.

 

 

  • "You will prove yourself yet, Telperiën. I have a task for you."

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The Justice streaked through hyperspace.

 

"I can't believe I missed all of that!" a feminine voice squeaked. The source, a tiny droid about the size of a human's palm, was floating in circles on a repulsorlift around a humanoid one who sat at his station in the cockpit. "They nearly adopted a little girl?!"

 

"Mistress Ad'Goran was quite insistent that you remain powered down throughout the vacation and emergency foster period," 2277 replied in his usual tone, which was flat, frank, and borderline-condescending. "You know that she finds your commentary irritable at best."

 

Flirt spun almost frantically around, animating her little droid version of frustration despite her inability to make a face. "But it was a little girl! I could have been so helpful!" she lamented. "You have to tell me all about her! Was she cute?"

 

2277's mannerisms also successfully conveyed his attitude -- one of dismissal. "I am not qualified to comment on her appearance. I am simply relieved that Galactic Alliance Security was able to locate her relatives," he explained. "Master Fett's willingness to consider adoption was unmistakable, perhaps due to the influence of Mistress Ad'Goran which at times I must question. He has even gone so far as to ask that I continue to investigate her new living arrangements and her past."

 

"Sometimes I think you don't know anything that matters, 2277 dear," Flirt responded. "Allow me to lend my processing power to the task. You focus on whatever horribly dull other projects you have and leave little Aerri to me."

 

2277 considered for an instant. "I will permit you to assist," he conceded. "However you will do so with my oversight and direction, and I will determine what findings are of sufficient note to raise to the Master's attention."

 

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

 

Back in the main living space and oblivious to the droids' conversation, Fett had hooked a diagnostic tool up to their newest acquisition -- the powerful beskar-clad MAD-01, currently powered down -- and was viewing the full systems readouts. Its armor was pocked with blaster burns from the fighting on Manda'yaim, proving that it was quite capable of taking a beating, and within its computer core it stored detailed information about its service record including a list of confirmed kills. Which proved that it could deal out punishment as readily as it could take it. Mirdala was on the other side, giving it her own inspection.

 

"Have the location of the Shadow's Gambit's next stop," Fett said. "It doesn't have to be ours if we're not ready to commit, though."

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Like crashing waves on a black sand beach, the revulsion and disgust roiled forth from the pair of Sith troopers. Though for their credit they kept their disgust to their thoughts alone. She fixed the closest with a ghoulish stare into his blank visor and slowly smiled. All teeth and wicked blood stained canines. The Dark Lord’s hand surprised her as it grabbed her chin and pulled her towards him. His fingers were surprisingly soft, if deathly cold as they traced long curling lines from her forehead to her eyes to her chin. She let her ghoulish grin turn into a sweet smile and licked her lips. Tasting the last bit of her victim before she was dismissed.

 

The Chiss was even more disgusted by her than the Troopers had been, the shock and disgust etched visibly on his face and in his aura. Telperiën stood silent, back ramrod straight, at attention like Ca’Aran had taught her as she waited for her Master to continue his lesson. She wished she could read over his shoulder, or perhaps read the mind of the Chiss, but she did not. If her master wished to tell her something he would. So she stood in a puddle of blood and considered her actions. Her biological father would be proud she knew, even her mother would be, and she now had an unlimited tap into the knowledge of the darkside without having to sleep her way there. Yet. Telperiën’s hand trembled slightly as the adrenaline and force high began to wear itself out and the fire began to sap at her own will and strength.

 

Why did it have to be so fleeting?

 

Exodus had finished with the Chiss and the trio of non force users made their way out the door. Telperiën looked up expectantly and nodded at his instructions. She gathered her equipment into her arms and walked slowly towards the east wing. Trying her best to not let the trembling show.

 

A task!

 

She finally let the giant smile stretch over her face as she climbed into the refresher’s shower unit. She hit the hot water switch and stepped into the brutally hot stream. Then a strange thought popped up when she saw a message pop up on her comm link that was at the edge of the shower. Her birthday? She was ten. Ten. How strange. She shrugged and let the comm go to voicemail as she let the last bits of her victim wash down the drain.

 

She climbed out and looked in the mirror, she raised a small shaking hand and traced the blood red tattoos on her face. They looked stunning, and brutal. She grinned from ear to ear as she slipped on her repaired armour and pulled on her utility belt. She took a few deep breaths until her nerves were stilled and then walked back into her quarters. There she knelt and began to meditate until her master or his servants would find her.

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This thing is certainly built for destruction, Mirdala mused as she fussed with some of the connections feeding into her datapad where she was reviewing the droid’s actions during the Battle of Keldabe. “There’s certainly enough here to work with, though I don’t think I’d want to completely overwrite his initial personality matrix. Maybe box it in a bit so it’s dormant. Could come a time when we want to unleash a one-droid demolition squad. Ahzinger knows his weaponry, I’ll give him that.”

 

She disconnected the datapad and considered the tangential information her husband relayed to her.

 

Was she actually ready to go Sith-hunting again? There was no personal connection this time like there had been with Ariyan when he’d given into his darker impulses as Darth Ares. She certainly felt like she was on more solid ground emotionally than she’d been in the quicksand of events following her ordeal with the slavers and all that had followed. The fact that he was even offering an alternate option made her feel more at ease about the whole thing.

 

The image of Ab’ki pouring lightening into Kandor in the crystal caves of Shogun flashed through her mind before she could brush it aside. From practically the onset if their marriage they’d been fighting against some great evil or another. They hadn’t even been able to escape it on Borleias. Granted, it was a large part of who they both were, but did that mean it was wise to barrel headlong into the next great enemy so soon?

 

She needed more information. “What else is there? Take a contract? Red Dawn holds no appeal for me. I’m free to move about with my Constable commission since I’m not officially attached to any particular JP jurisdiction. I didn’t figure you’d want to go back to CoreSec anyway.”

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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The Chiss from before made his steps towards the private quarters of the apprentice. His wardrobe cleaned up, and his red magistrate uniform sharpened to a tee. His bluish mane was held in proper shape, and his appearance restored from the shock he had suffered from the medical chambers. His whole attire was exquisite, decorated with opulent brass tacks. “Lady Telperiën,” He locked his dark red eyes onto her small frame as she meditated. “Lord Malac—Lord Exodus sends his words.” He hesitated, only slightly, and then walked forward with his head bowed ever so little. He placed a small device just in front of where she sat, and then bowed deeper before the child. “My lady..”

 

 

  • The advisor smiled, and then left the room.

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"Nayc," Fett answered. "Not going back. Only way from here is forward. Ultimately the goal is to found the organization. The Quietus bounty would provide credits, which we're going to need. Otherwise we could start getting our names in the right peoples' kovide."

 

He tapped a few buttons on the diagnostic device, synching the data with the Justice's onboard computer and giving 2277 access to it for his own analysis. "We already have ties to CorSec through Delavvo and the JPs through yourself and your aliit," he continued. "We could use a more business-oriented conversation with CoreSec or even the Galactic Alliance military. Even the jetiise are building a fleet these days and, although Kirlocca is dead and my history with Trevelian is mixed, they are potential allies. Just as much as we need these connections for data feeds and opportunities, we need partners. Good people who believe in what we're trying to do and have the skills to contribute."

 

Mirdala considered those options for a minute before offering, "What risk would we run if we did wait on Quietus? Do we even know if he’s been back to the Gambit recently, if at all?

 

“I don’t mind opening a dialogue with CoreSec. I’m understandably nervous about the Jedi, but you’ve had more experience than I have,” she continued, following two lines of simultaneous thought as they figured out the best course of action.

 

"The chief risk of waiting on Quietus is that someone else could find him first," he answered. "With a price that high, half the beroyase in the oyu'baat must be looking for him. Networking can be done almost any time."

 

“That’s true,” she agreed. “I think the Shadow’s Gambit is our best course, then. Same level of cover as Hapes or a different tack? I’m not advocating we face Quietus without our gear, but until we can set the battlefield maybe it’s best to take a more subtle approach. From what you know of him, is he likely to go to ground or grab the nearest group of kids as hostages and blast his way out?”

 

Fett scratched his head. "I don't think he will actually be aboard the ship, since he knows that others and myself with access to KDY can associate it to him, although it's a risk," he said. "I can't guess what he might do if he received news that we showed up in full beskar'gam." Some dar'jetiise would perhaps take it as a challenge, but Quietus could just as easily disappear somewhere.

 

He considered for another moment. "The Gambit is our only lead on him. I might have the best chance getting the right person to talk if I'm in armor. If you go plainclothes, you might be able to avoid attention and make him think I'm alone while you and Flirt see if you can find anything useful by poking around in their files."

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“So he’s not quite as predictable as the other dar’jetiise we’ve encountered together.” She frowned weighing their options. Not being able to gauge how a target would react made it difficult to move in anticipation of them to close the trap. “I’ve still got those discrete plates, so I wouldn’t be wholly unprotected. I still think keeping a low profile initially to give Flirt some time to work would be prudent. We might lose our edge if we go in full beskar’gam as we set up shop. Maybe even take it in rotations?” He could tell from her tone that she was thinking out loud, now as almost immediately she dismissed the idea.

 

“You’re still largely believed to work solo, right? Two Mandos showing up in the same time frame on the Gambit might lead to suspicion...or it might not considering our people’s reputations. I’m not nearly as known by my armor as you are. Interestingly enough it’s my face most would recognize.”

 

She glanced back at him as Vi’ika gave a short bark from where she was lying near the corridor to the cabins. “You’ll not get left behind again, though I don’t know if the Gambit’s policies prohibit animals or not.” Then an idea struck her. “You don’t think my status as Constable might get us anywhere on this mission, would it?”

 

Now Fett frowned. "What do you have in mind?"

 

“This place is supposed to be mostly legit, right? As in most people don’t know that it’s owned by a Sith Master. Maybe I could canvas as a constable and potentially get some of the crew to cooperate, or at least get in with them. Might make things easier. We’ve got a description of him, right?”

 

He shrugged. "If you can find someone that recognizes the authority of the Journeyman Protectors," he said. "Outside of the Sector and certain other worlds I wouldn't expect much. Might be worth a shot though."

 

Mirdala laughed. “I’ve found if you flash an official-enough looking badge and project authority, it usually takes people a bit longer to catch on. Besides, it’s a casino ship, no telling what leads and connections we might find.”

 

Fett nodded. "Reasonable plan. Get in, poke around for leads and see what happens. The usual beroya bit."

 

“And hope we don’t knock over the red jacket’s nest in the process,” she countered before heading into the cockpit.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as the Chiss made a hasty retreat. She had known fear for all of her life, fear of her mother, the Nightsisters, Kirlocca, the Dark Lord, but this was the first time that she had detected fear in the force from reputation and past actions. She had understood the trooper’s fear when she had butchered their prisoner, but the fear of her after the fact was rewarding to itself. She drew on his fear as he hastily closed the door behind him, adding it to her meditation, cultivating it, enhancing it behind those dull red eyes of his. She release her hold as he continued to walk away with a pang of guilt. He was an ally afterall, and there was nothing to be gained from distilling fear in an allies heart.

 

Her black gloved hand reached out and grabbed the small device, she knew what it was, a headset and when she pushed the device into her ear she heard a long sentence, descriptions, and a mission. She nodded to no one and spoke a few words in return. Her voice solemn and hard.

 

“Yes my master.”

 

She stood and dusted off her knees from where she had been kneeling and walked to the comm station discarding the headset to clip in on her belt. She typed in a comm number with practised efficiency and bowed before the shimmering image of her adopted father.

 

“Blood Prince..." He voice carried the disdain many Sith held for the Warlord though she did not know why. For the moment she saw his fatherly look, his mass produced face, his love, she hated him. "...you are requested to stand by at the following coordinates, tell no one your plans and prepare for immediate action stations.”

 

She cut the comm off before he could respond, indicating that it was an order, not a daughterly request. The pain she saw in his blue eyes brought a boiling kettle of emotions to overflow in her stomach and she retched for a moment before focusing the disappointment and guilt into rage, a most helpful emotion, and one that was driving.He had no right to be angry or disappointed in her, he was a criminal, a failure of a father, and a pawn to be used and thrown away. Her mother had known it, and so did her Master. How dare he. She punched her fist through the screen several times before the rage had passed. Bloodening her knuckles and wrist and completely destroying several thousand credits worth of machinery in the fit. But when the rage had dissipated into hate and she was able to control her breathing, she walked silently from the room to the shuttlebay, where she boarded the Lambada Karlsruhe and departed for the Axis held world of Onderon.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Alora stayed by Raia’s side as Draken headed to the cockpit to get them underway. She had left the medbay door open so that the Tuk’ata could see Raia since he wasn’t allowed in but would close it once the droids had Raia ready to be operated on. The Sith Mistress had to smile as another mournful yowl sounded from the doorway. Shadow had discovered that Alora was in there and wanted to come in as well. Vex was preventing the young cub from entering which made the Sith Mistress smile, “Sorry Shadow, you can’t come in either. You can meet Raia later.” She did relent a little, going to the doorway to pet the panther cub and to place a reassuring hand on Vex’s head, “She’ll be fine Vex, it will just take a little while.” With another pat for Shadow, Alora went back to the sink using the sterile wash before moving back to Raia’s side.

 

Alora stood back as the droids prepped Raia for surgery. Once they had entered hyperspace she briefly moved to Raia’s side to reassure her, “I’ll be here watching over you and will see you once you’re awake once more.” She moved back to allow the medical droids to operate, taking a seat while she watched and waited. Alora smiled as Draken re-entered the medbay, “As far as I can tell, it’s all going well.”

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Darth Alraune

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Raia was uncertain of how much time had passed as her overall memory since the droid’s injection at her neck was hazy and fragmented at best. She vaguely remembered flashes of being loaded onto Draken’s ship, Alora and Vex at her bedside, and floating in a tank. Her entire body still hurt, but the pain was manageable.

 

It was a few hours after Draken had issued his order to the medical droid that Raia finally opened her eyes and woke with any semblance of true consciousness. As she stirred with a soft groan and tried to sit up, Vex’aedr’s head appeared from nowhere and gently nudged her back down against the soft pillows. “So Tētis sent you to mind me, huh, Brālis?”

 

The clothes she had been wearing were long since disposed of and replaced with some kind of loose-fitting garment that she vaguely remembered as wearing during her first encounter with what the rest of the galaxy considered modern medicine just after her fight in the Spite Station Arena. Unlike then, she didn’t feel panicked about her surroundings.

 

A lot had changed since that conversation with Rose had led her to confront the plans Furion or the other Sith might have had for her. For one thing, she was now on the ship of the very first Sith that had posed a direct threat to her life. Her first meeting of Draken Shadowlord had not been a pleasant one as the man had come bursting into Qaela’s quarters looking for blood. While not the true target of his ire, it hadn’t taken Raia long to piece together that remaining around Qaela was likely to get her killed. The woman had made far too many enemies of the Sith at the time.

 

This was also the same man who had once assisted what had once been her clan during a Nightsister raid. Even as Mitral had spun her lies and sewed her seeds of deceit among the Raging River Clan of Witches on Dathomir, Raia remembered the role Draken had played in keeping her from the Nightsisters’ sinister grasp.

 

Or so her memory told her.

 

It’s strange. That Raia is dead, yet she is still in my memories, alive. Her hand found Vex’s snout as one of the droids came over to scan her. I died, and nearly did this time as well.

 

“Tētis is going to kill me,” she groaned, looking up at the ceiling of the med bay. “I lost his hammer and...that...shooting...thing. Why did I get it in my head to leave the Ravenhammer? Why couldn’t I just stay put, Vex?”

 

The great beast leveled his gaze at her as though to offer an “it would have been easier.”

 

Now you know what we as Sith face at times. Now you have something to convey your future training against meita, and you will be stronger for it.

 

Raia offered Vex another scratch just under the snout as she contemplated her father’s words along with the glimpse she’d been given of one possible path in millions. Emily had given her a choice and brought her into the greater galaxy from the relative safety and solitude that the two years on Spite Station had afforded her. Choosing to go with Emily had set Raia on a collision path with the man she now called “Tētis”, a concept that had been utterly foreign to her barely three months before. She was now the Warrior King’s daughter and realized that the choices she’d made (and didn’t make) on Kashyyyk had led her to where she lay now.

 

Hiding onboard the Ravenhammer would have been the easier path, but how much knowledge did she gain through her rather large misadventure? She might never have known what a “Wookiee” was or seen for herself how capable their warriors were. Raia certainly wouldn’t have found herself within the call of the battle mind, not that she fully trusted it. Being possessed by malevolent and enigmatic Force-entities tended to put one off simply opening themselves to whatever Force-mind melding was happening.

 

<> Raia looked over at the droid curiously but ultimately decided to turn her attention back to Vex, finding a small measure of comfort in his steady presence.

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The thin metal walls of the small transport shuddered with the rigors of space flight as the small bedroom chamber within was filled with short heavy gasps. Within, the Trandoshan mercenary contorted his body into the varied shapes of strenuous physical exercises, training his body for the conflict he flew toward, and more importantly temporarily relieving the boredom of deep space travel. With no companions save a single pilot, who spoke neither Dosh or basic, and a damaged protocol droid, stuck repeating simple phrases for hours on end.

 

He grunted with particularly fury as he dropped the final weight onto the cold ground, his thoughts drifting to his would-be companion on this adventure, the small girl Terra. Unfortunately for him, the girl had left him behind, taking her own ship, and so he was stuck in this damned transport. There would be words when he arrived in Onderon.

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With the surgery complete, Vex settled in beside Raia’s bunk and when she underwent bacta treatments, he lay near the tank. Krakis too spent a great deal of time in and around the med bay checking on Raia. Draken chuckled as he watched the two interacting around her while she slept. She would be up and able to walk albeit slowly and painfully in the morning and would likely be in pain for several weeks to come. He looked over at a chrono mounted on the wall, a few more hours till they reached Serenno.

 

He stroked his beard for a moment as he thought about it, perhaps he should delay the arrival over Serenno so that she was awake. He turned to one of the medical droids. “Inform me when she wakes.”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

Krakis turned as he heard Draken’s voice and padded silently over to him and headbutted his hip roughly. “Whose fault is it that you spent so much time with Raia and couldn’t have your neck and behind your ears scratched?” Krakis coughed in what seemed an accusing manner and Draken couldn’t help but chuckle. “Come on then, let's grab you a steak and see if we can get you a neck scratch or two.”

 

—————

 

A few hours later he heard from one of the medical droids. “Master, she is awake and should remain so for a while.” Draken nodded and left the galley for the med bay.

 

“Hello Raia, welcome back to the world of of the conscious Your surgery went very well as did your bacta treatments. How are you feeling? We are few hours away from Serenno if you want to see the planet from space.”

E nomini patri, et Fili e spiritu sancti.

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Alora spent some of her time sitting next to Raia’s bed with a large black ball of fur on her lap. The Sith Mistress knew that it wouldn’t be too much longer before Shadow would be too large to be a lap cat. She nearly was now. The rest was spent with Draken or meditating or working out, running through her lightsaber forms in the hold.The black cub was her constant companion and Alora had to laugh at the antics Shadow got up to. She was getting good at sneaking up and pouncing on on Vex who surprisingly put up with alot from the young feline. One thing Alora was having fun with was creating a small ball of lightning and using it as something for Shadow to chase - always careful not to let the cub 'catch' it. The cub almost turned herself inside out leaping after it which made Alora laugh.

 

Hearing the droid announce that Raia was awake, Alora headed to the medbay and ended up following Draken in. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek before looking at Raia as he told her they were a couple of hours out from Serenno. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Shadow creeping up on Vex once more. She brought it to the other's attention then broke into a laugh as the feline pounced at Vex, Krakis giving the cub a do you have to? look while Vex turned his head and grunted almost indulgently at her. With a loud meow Shadow launched herself up at the Sith Mistress, expecting to be caught since Alora wouldn’t let her jump up on Raia’s bed. If she had of, Alora had no doubt that Shadow would have curled up with her and remained there. Grinning at the young girl she spoke, “It’s good to see you awake Raia. Someone here has been very eager to meet you and was jealous because you met Krakis first. This is Shadow.”

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Darth Alraune

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The journey to Coruscant had been quiet. Emily’s desire to discover what Andon had learned during his exile had faded when she had heard the song of her dead cousin echoing throughout the corridors of the Traitor’s Hope. The melody stirred up a powerful mixture of hope, anger, and an overall creepiness that she normally associated with Sith on the caliber of Sheog.

 

Jaina had given her a bunk, and Emily had spent most of the trip confined to it, healing Roe’gall before spending time trying to catch up on her sleep. Not that she had much success on the latter. Her heart was in turmoil within her. Eventually, she rose and headed back to the cargo area, where there was enough space for her to go through her lightsaber forms.

 

The physical exercise had double benefits: it cleared her mind and gave her the space to work through her emotions, and it strengthened her still-not-fully-recovered body. As sweat poured down her brow, she finally realized just what exactly she was feeling.

 

Jealousy.

 

She wasn’t proud of it. In fact, labeling it made her feel ashamed. But there it was. Andon had returned and was dedicated to putting his relationship with Jaina back together again. One look at his eyes and it was clear how much he still loved and cared about her. And not only that, but he came back with the power to--hypothetically, anyway--bring Tirzah back from the dead. And he had focused his attention solely on his daughter without giving any thought to Emily’s own dead child. If he really has the power to bring her back, why would he only bring her back? Don’t I merit even the same chance at regaining what has been taken from me?

 

The jealousy wiggled inside her like a flob-worm. She couldn’t help but notice that Jaina was well on her way to having everything Emily had ever wanted. She would get her daughter back, her husband back, and she had Raynuk on top of all that, in whatever way she wanted, with a special astral bond to boot. She even had belonging in an Order of beings she respected.

 

Maybe the Force really is out to get me after all, she thought, spinning to avoid an imaginary blaster bolt. I probably deserve it anyway. But a quieter voice whispered comfort to her. That’s not how the galaxy works. It was nothing you did or didn’t do that caused all these things to happen to you. Well, maybe you should have handled things better with Quietus. But the Force is not out to make you suffer. She bit her lip. She wasn’t sure, but it was certainly tempting to believe that truth.

 

Maybe I should leave. The thought had been crossing her mind frequently since they had left Yavin IV. She had already begun to feel like a little bit of an intruder between her aunt and uncle. Now, there would be the added bonus of not having to watch Jaina get everything at such a close range. Perhaps she should let them try to recover Tirzah on their own. Andon was uber powerful now, anyway. It wasn’t like they needed Emily’s help.

 

She stopped, freezing her final form in place for a moment, then shut down her twin blades. She had finally taken the time to fabricate and install a crystal in the second one, and it seemed to be working fine. She hooked them back on her belt and headed back to her bunk. There was probably just enough time for a sanisteam before they landed and she’d have to figure out what to do next.

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

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The chestnut haired girl looked toward the sound of Draken’s voice as her hand continued to scratch Vex under the chin and shrugged. “As okay as I can be, I guess,” she admitted as Vex’aedr pulled his head away, distracted by something below Raia’s line of sight.

 

A loud meow followed by a black blur leaping into Alora’s arms caught her attention as the Sith Mistress introduced her panther to Raia who smiled at the playful feline.

 

“Master Draken, you told me on Kashyyyk that we were there to help them, but then Delta and his ships burned that world just like they did Dathomir. Is it because they fought back? You said you’d seen the same thing before when you were young. What happened?”

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“Their world was burnt as a warning to other worlds against siding with the Jedi. Without a punishments there would be no law and no order, although many of our brethren would sooner side with the chaos theory when it comes to Galactic Affairs. It is true that the Wookiees will suffer for a few years but under our rule they stand to come out stronger then they were before their planet burned.”

 

He was silent for a moment then pulled a chair near her bed before sitting down. “Yes, I’ve seen this before, I was younger then and it happened on the world that we were living on. Then as now I was a member of nobility, My family was part of the diplomatic core representing the Council of Serenno on the planet of Vjun, I was 12 years old when they came, the Jedi. On Vjun it was a day of rejoicing when the Jedi came as most families saw it as a way for their children to have a chance at a better world.

 

“I was attending the Imperial academy at the time and we were taken to the main square as were kids in other schools across the planet. They lined us up and ushered those parents that lived in the capital into the square to watch the gathering. There were four Jedi in the square, a Master and three Knights. They strode through the rows of kids, placing their hands on each forehead and those they chose would be moved to another area of the square to the cheers of proud parents and occasional cry of sadness from gathered parents. But it was when one of the Knights placed his hand on my head and pulled me from the rest of the children that things took a turn.

 

“I heard my mother’s scream and felt the anger and fear from her as she lashed out with the force. She snapped the neck of the Jedi Knight that had touched me and was cut down from behind by the emerald blade of the Jedi Master. I don’t remember everything that happened after that except for myself covered in blood and holding crushed lightsaber hilt of the Jedi Master in my hand and seeing his mangled and deformed head on the ground in front of me and one of the Knights impaled on a nearby piece of scaffolding while the second was kicking his heels on the ground as he slowly asphyxiated, the crushed larynx showing the indentation from a lightsaber hilt.

 

“The Council of Serenno recalled their entire diplomatic corp, any world that Jedi had rights to select children for training were considered sanctioned worlds and had their embassies closed. I was returned to Serenno and lived with my father who had been offworld at the time for a year before he died from a illness contracted from his time in the outer regions in Imperial Service. So I was placed in the care of the council and spent the remaining years of my youth as a among the noble families as their ward. So yes, I have seen this before.“

E nomini patri, et Fili e spiritu sancti.

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((Co-written))

 

“And I’m to be your ward?” Raia asked as she absorbed the information. “I don’t understand what nobility is. It’s the rulers, right? What’s to be expected of me on Serenno?”

 

“It is much like a Clan Matron, except that there are varying levels of nobility," Draken explained. "As it stands I am the ruler of the Serenno, then there is the upper nobility which used to comprise six families. However, due to an assassination attempt nearly twenty years ago, one of the six families were annihilated and the 'Queen' at the time was too weak to carry out justice. There is still a gap in the council. Upon taking the throne, I carried out swift justice and had the heads of the family that planned the assassination executed. Those that survived were stripped of their titles and lands. Your father will be taking possession of their former lands and titles.

 

"A ward is similar to an adopted member of the noble family that is treated as if they were a blood relative. As my ward, you have the same status the children of the Noble Council and will be treated accordingly or at least you will after the investiture.”

 

Raia's brow furrowed and she looked at Alora then back to Draken. “It sounds complicated. But I am here to learn what you will teach me. And what of your own bonding with Alora? Is that happening too?”

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Had it been anyone else who set their hand to the control of Jaina’s pride and joy, she would have relieved them of the privilege of having hands at all. In this case, however, the Traitor’s Hope had responded to Andon as a friend from distant memory, and the old girl hurtled into hyperspace.

 

“Skye has her, on Coruscant,” she managed finally, as the gas giant of Yavin disappeared into blue oblivion behind them. “Emily and I followed the trail to Nhagathul, but the planet itself was gone when we arrived.”

 

The weight of her admission brought a flush of shame to her cheeks, but she said nothing of the sense of failure that consumed her soul at the abandonment of that mission. “How can you see her, where I can’t?”

 

Her gaze met Andon’s, hesitantly at first. He stood before her robed in cloak and mystery, a being on many levels that was entirely foreign and alien to her. Yet, simultaneously, his very essence felt like approaching home after a long journey, that was previously thought to have no end. Her husband, no matter how far removed from what he was, could still make Jaina feel the warmth of sun-kissed sand from their youth on Chad. She searched the depths of hazel-gray eyes for answers, furrowing her own brow as the scar upon his face tightened with the change of his features. He was serendipity with a lopsided grin, and he made her heart feel things she had not dared to experience in these long years alone.

 

Andon turned his head, staring through the steel of the bulkhead, almost as if he could see the tapestry of hyperspace weaving before him in evanescent threads of transpatial matter. As her question hung in the air, a smolder of haunting loneliness whispered outward into the depths of space from the deepest recess of his aura. It was easy to forget that this god-like being before her was still reassuringly human beneath the surface of all his wonder and ability.

 

Having found whatever he was looking for within the currents of hyperspace, Andon’s gaze rested upon Jaina once more, as only a husband could look at his wife. For the first time in what felt like decades, she could trace an ache of sadness along the lines of his features: imperceptible, to anyone but his wife.

 

“I can see many times and places, beyond what I could before.” His voice was dangerously soothing and easy to get lost within. “I couldn’t for a long while, but I have traveled to many worlds searching for you both. I finally found one that could grant me the ability to see you. That is why I’m here.”

 

An answer so simplistic, but drowning in the weight of substance and understanding that was surely too impossible to ever be real. Her Traveler of many times stood looking at her, as Jaina turned her back and recused herself to fix the hurt of her ship, overwhelmed and confused by the quantum insinuations of his words.

 

---

 

Wedged into the small space in the hyperdrive access bay, Jaina found herself hanging upside down by her knees, covered in grease, tinkering with the alternating sequence module. Andon’s cursory metaphysical repair job had been effective to spur the machine into its function, but synchronized with her ship as only a true pilot could be, Jaina had abandoned all else to the task of moving through the ship and tweaking what she could to her own likings and specifications. The comforting hiccup of the hyperdrive, sterilized and removed by the Solaris techs who had retrieved it from its paralysis in deep space, had returned as a result of the cult’s plasmic abuse, as suddenly--and possibly as destructively--as Andon’s return into her life.

 

If she built walls of the Force around herself, stifled her senses to the brilliance of the beacon of his presence on the ship, it would almost be possible to imagine that it had all been a dream. The life she had built for herself in his absence seemed to ring hollow, and yet, she could not excuse herself from the burdens she had chosen to shoulder. If there was a chance to rescue Tirzah, did she not already have permission from Darex to pursue it? She had given up hope once her daughter had gone beyond sense of recall, but now the haunting whisper of the nursery rhyme that echoed on a Netherworld battlefield seemed to ring through the corridors of the Hope, sticking in her mind, replaying over and over to a bereaved soul. Had she been wrong to turn from the hope of family to shoulder the burden of the Order? Was she wrong now for tending to her family, believing in the hope of a real reunion, instead of returning to Felucia and pulling her weight as a member of the Jedi Council? She could not, would not, allow the galaxy to crumble on her watch. The Force demanded balance, and her work was endless, her spirit tireless.

 

But such questions seemed too large to hold in her thoughts or in her heart, so Jaina’s mind centered on the task at hand. Solder here. Splice there. Hydrospanner to the alluvial damper. That was easier than addressing the chill she felt at the core of her being.

 

The return of her husband had brought a weighty joy to Jaina’s soul: not the elation of a butterfly-ridden gut, a child’s vain imagination, but an inspiring hope that bore conditions. Once again, it was possible to build the future of which they had dreamed as children. But it bore none of the naivete of her girlhood, the innocent eyes that hoped for the redemption of all things. Reconciling the disparate strands of their pasts into a cohesive future was sure to require intensive labor.

 

In various ways, he had tried to show her where he had been, why his mind had been robbed of her very essence. His words were nonsensical, and yet spoke truths of eternities searched and uncovered. Up until now, she had barely allowed for the things he had been telling her to be the truth. How could he have formed galaxies around her image? More importantly, if his hand directed eternity, why now? Why here? Why her? The answers she imagined were not ones she wished to know. Her curiosity ebbed, hindered by an unspeakable force, something she refused to bring into the light. Why had her apprehension precluded her desire to see?

 

Raynuk. Of course it was Raynuk.

 

The bond that united them had gone still. What used to pulse with comforting presence, the encouragement of understanding, was now a vacuum of silence. Respectfully, he had given her space to reunite with her husband. And she had felt the need to hide him from Andon, to conceal the importance he held in her life, to guard against the animosity that had always existed between them. How could she reconcile the fervent affection she felt, for this man whose very existence was tethered to hers, with the reality of her heart’s desire materializing before her, her estranged husband who could at last breathe her name in recalled whispers?

 

How could either of them ever understand how she needed the other?

 

A stray spark from the fusion of superheated metal landed on her wrist, jolting her out of her musings. Reflexive application of the healing warmth of the Force melted away the prick of pain before it could fully materialize. Pushing up the face shield, she righted herself in the bay, pausing for a moment as the blood rushed back out of her head and pulsed to her extremities. Assisted by her supernatural abilities, she lifted herself gracefully to the grated deck plating above. The curiosity that burned within her at his return simmered under her skin like the spark that had singed her, and the impulse to shield the knowledge of the existence of the unspeakable bond she bore within her paled in comparison with her desire to understand.

 

The hum of sabers was detectable from within the repair bay as she followed the anchor of his luminosity through the corridors, moving past the swirl of Emily’s presence--something she would be glad to have Andon’s assistance with--and came upon her husband, bent over the life support systems in the corridor off the cockpit.

 

“It’s like you’re not even real,” she blurted out without preamble, her eyes filling with confused tears that she had been withheld by the sheer wonder of his reentry into the galaxy in which she lived. “In some moments, you’re the man I remember, and in others, you’re this demigod, this thing, and I don’t understand at all where you’ve been, what you’ve seen, what you’re talking about. I don’t know if Emily’s right, and you’re just something brought back by the Cult to torment and distract me, but I have to do what no one else seems willing to do in this kriffing galaxy, if I’m the best person they could find for the job, and I still don’t know why you weren’t there for Tirzah, and what anyone could have done to you to make you leave everything you ever cared about and forget me entirely, and, and, and why the hell are you messing with my ship?”

 

Angry tears spilled out over her flushed cheeks, the Jedi Master trembling in her pain as she stood silhouetted in the doorway, no longer willing to be assuaged by ethereal promises, as much as she was desperate to believe them. The measure of her self-control was slipping, her walls slowly crumbling as she strained and yearned to grasp what he had shown her, exerting her control over that which she could reasonably call her own.

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Right. Oxygen. Suffocation. These are still things. I should probably fix that…

 

Jaina had made no attempt to respond to his last revelation, so he departed her company and wandered to the cockpit. While he was waiting for her to sort out whatever existential longing had gripped her spirit tight, he would ensure that the Traitor’s Hope didn’t catastrophically decompress and kill everyone inside. The horrific deaths of everyone would put a certain damper on the reunion. If I can actually be killed. As of yet, all signs pointed to no. He sighed, mindlessly tapping on the computer screen as the terminal performed its self-diagnosis of the ship.

 

The Traveler felt the burning warmth of Jaina’s presence as she approached him. A swarm of feelings and emotions began to boil over as the emotional currents of her inner storm began to churn and shudder. His face was hidden from his wife as she entered the cockpit, the weight of her footsteps screaming her frustration, as they always had in their frantic clatter. Despite himself, Andon smiled, if only for a moment. She was still his Jaina.

 

No foreplay, straight to business, as she unloaded the verbal assault that had been building since Andon first entered her life again, cavalier and full of magnificence as only a celestial scoundrel could. He had traveled so far and overcame odds that would have driven any other being in the depths of endless despair, spiraling into irrevocable madness. As he listened to her pour out the wellspring of her heart to him, Jaina’s words wounded him more intimately than any trial could. The brilliance of his presence wavered in her crumbling walls relaying the bitterness and agony that had been haunting the length of her days in his absence and the beguiling ache of his return. Her last sentence shattered all that.

 

Did she honestly ask me about touching the ship? A smile broke out across his face and it took all his eternal restraint to stifle a warm-hearted chuckle, staring at her in all her rage, covered head to toe in hyperdrive grease. She was definitely still his wife.

 

“Are you for real right now?” His smile was warm and reassuring. “Are you seriously upset about me fixing your ship?”

 

The furrow of her brow flickered for a moment, as though she had expected him to respond to her flurry of frustration in kind. Her auburn-green eyes darted to the lit panel behind him, then back to meet his, suddenly seeming drastically less sure of herself. “Yes?” Her chest heaved an exasperated sigh that was laughably familiar. “You just--you came out of nowhere--like you can fix everything--but I can fix it just fine, I just--” her words trailed off in a sputter of backfiring emotion and irritation as she pressed a hand to her eyes.

 

He closed the gap between them and rested his hand along her face. The touch of his fingers were light and warm as he brushed the stray strands of her brandy brown locks out of her face, taking in the softness of her skin against his. With a delicate tracing of his fingers, the chestnut strands of Jaina’s hair were tucked tenderly behind her ear. Andon held his hand there for moment, taking in the sheer experience of being near her once more.

 

“I know.” His words were soft, whispering all the affection he could not speak in this moment. “You’ve always been strong, but we’re better together. We’ve always been stronger as a team.”

 

Andon’s hand brushed aside a patch of grease that had collected at the corner of Jaina’s chin. “You and I… it’s the most irreplaceable feeling in all the universe.” Hazel-gray eyes carried a flicker of something within his gaze, a hint of understanding waiting just beneath the surface.

 

Irascibly, Jaina swiped at the same grease spot with her sleeve. Though obviously intent to rub it out of existence, the movement only resulted in leaving a new streak along her jawline. “For anyone else, that would be merely superlative,” she shot back waspishly. “For you, I’m not at all sure. Maybe you’ve been through the universe looking for that same feeling.” The pettiness of her sharp words belied the flicker of insecurity that blossomed in the recesses of her murky eyes.

 

Andon studied her eyes for a long while and his smile grew after finding what he sought. “This universe, that universe, many universes. Did you know you’re irritatingly unique in all creation?”

 

She was not amused.

 

“Don’t patronize me, Andon,” she said, a spike of pain echoing through the Force as she folded her arms across her chest. “You could mend every facet of this ship just by looking at it, somehow, and you’re only letting me put my hand to it to begin with.”

 

He reached out and removed the streak of grease that Jaina had managed to smear even further across her jawline. She showed him no warmth, but did not recoil nor prevent his touch. “Let’s be honest, no one LETS you do anything.” His eyes squinted ever so slightly, with a hint of teasing. “Not now, not ever.”

 

She had, somehow, become even less amused: a monumental achievement in doghouse dwelling.

 

The choleric glint of her stare hardened. “Did you just up and disappear from this galaxy to seek your fame and fortune as some interstellar quantum ship mechanic? Being a Jedi wasn’t good enough for you?”

 

She had wiped the kind smile from her husband’s face and replaced it with a coy smirk.

 

“You got me dead to rights. The whole Hero and Husband thing just lacked a certain pizazz. Changed career paths and traveled to the far reaches of the universe to be a flight jockey and mechanic extraordinaire.” He turned his back to her and began rummaging through a nearby storage compartment, withdrawing a somewhat clean rag. He tossed it to Jaina, for it was decidedly less filthy than her currently.

 

“Even had my own show on the Holonet, very popular in syndication.” His eyes looked past her, towards the hyperdrive, and his smirk grew. He snapped his fingers and the ship dropped out of hyperspace. “By the way, you crossed your dampening capacitors on the hyperdrive, we were three seconds from implosion. Not a big deal for me being… a thing. A terminal gravity shear wouldn’t even affect me.” A wave of his hand hurtled the ship back into depths of hyper travel. “You know, quantum mechanic intuition. You’re welcome.”

 

The light in his eyes dimmed and the emotion fell from his face. “Is that honestly what you think, that Jedi just wasn’t good enough and I left?”

 

He turned to face her once more, taking several strides to stand before her. “Go ahead, Master Jedi, ask.” Not even his celestial resolve could mask the hurt in his voice. “Ask me why I left.”

 

The frigid, stony resolve on her face contorted in response to his cutting sarcasm, and the rag he had tossed to her became the scapegoat of the torrential emotion that spilled out from inside the buttoned-up exterior of his wife, wrung mercilessly between her hands. The pointed barb of his final words had pierced the shield of her rage, and the frost in her eyes melted into runoff that erupted onto her cheeks as she shook her head, unwilling to meet his gaze, obviously struggling to collect herself into words.

 

As though she bore heavy weights around her neck, it took a concerted effort for his wife to meet Andon’s gaze. The hollow sadness that emanated from her deep eyes painted a grand mural that he could read, the time and space she had inhabited without him displayed as a work of art painted in fresco, dried into the plaster of her soul. Unspeakable loss wove its way to the forefront, and the fear that colored her thoughtless jabs spilled out from between trembling lips.

 

“You left me nothing,” she whispered pleadingly, pressing the rag into his chest. “There was no word, dead or alive, no one who could tell me anything about where you’d gone. All I wanted was--something--some word, anything--” Pain strangled her words into nothingness as Jaina and Andon locked eyes, all pretense set aside. Breathlessly, achingly, she pressed her hands into his chest as though she could make him more real.

 

“Why did you leave?” There was no accusation in her voice, just the phantom of her lonely sadness.

 

Her words extinguished the fervor of his anger, but he wasn’t quite ready to let it go entirely. The anamorphic display of all she contained behind the walls that had become the shelter of her trembling heart had fallen to the touch of his forceful display of wit. He had expected the razor of her fury and the guile of her venom; however, the tenderness of his wife’s heart had struck him as decidedly unexpected.

 

Unnervingly unexpected.

 

He tilted his head to the left as he searched the cascade of her auburn-green eyes, unable to reconcile why she had chosen this moment to reveal her depths to him. There was no answer he could comprehend, that would make rational sense. Though when it came to navigating the waters of feminine rationale, such concepts were not always necessary.

 

“I had nothing to leave you with.” His voice was decidedly more tender than the last time he spoke. “There was no goodbye, no grand farewell, no kiss good night… because there was no you. There was no memory to leave it to.”

 

The hands of his wife that were pressed into Andon’s chest were taken into his own, his fingers entwining with hers: both now shared hands of grease and grime.

 

“The Grey Goddess robbed me of any feeling and thought that our family ever existed. She exorcised my longing and desire, casting me into exile and forcing me to wander without any notion that I had a wife and daughter. Meeting Emily on Corellia that day ended everything for me.”

 

Her face looked up to him longingly, the warm tears of her remorse carving deep trails through the grease on her face. It was utterly endearing, in the most Jaina way possible.

 

“I didn’t leave. I searched for you and Tirzah, for some answer to why I couldn’t even picture your faces. I traveled and learned many… unnatural abilities… but none led to you. And when this galaxy no longer had any more answers, I ventured outward.”

 

Andon reached up and cupped his wife’s chin in his hand.

 

“I didn’t abandon you, there are places I went that one does not simply leave. I got lost and searched for a way back.” He could feel his own tears begin to well now, reliving where he had gone through the lense of Jaina’s loneliness. “I entered a threshold that was meant to never be crossed… and then I could see you and Tirzah again.”

 

She had finally undone him.

 

“That’s why I came back. It’s why it had to be now and here that I am with you again. It was the first moment I could. Everywhere I’ve been… it’s not like what you think. It’s not an infinite cycle, it’s a series of choices and doors to navigate.” Andon’s voice became infinitely soft. “Sometimes it takes you places that you don’t want to go. But I found you again.”

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Like the constantly changing storms of the lost world Kamino and the restless trees of Kashyyyk, the plans of space militaries rarely lasted through the first meeting with unexpected forces. With the sudden orders and the ending of the event by the Supreme Leader of the Galactic Alliance himself, Head of State Zinthos had quickly called back the spread-out storm troopers together, the Imperial Guard already standing by, exiting the scene of the tremulous events to the almost peaceful silence of space.

 

Tallin sighed as he boarded the shuttle, happy to leave the frivolous event which had strained the early relationship of the factions more than the actions of their enemies or the struggle of opposing ideals. The time had finally come again for more training, for preparation for the war to come and fulfill his duties to the Remnant.

 

He stepped up beside Zinthos as she stood on the bridge, "Where to now, my Empress?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

When the Lambda-class shuttle retreated into the comparative safety of hyperspace, Armiena began to lean back in the pilot’s seat and close her eyes. Her eyes shot wide open and she threw herself forward the moment the wounds on her back and hips made contact with the seat. The numbing effect of her adrenaline rush and the painkillers had begun to fade, leaving the veteran Jedi with the realization that everything hurt--scalp, shoulders, arms, hips, legs… even the back of her eyes.

 

For the entire duration of the jump, she just leaned into the control boards and shivered. The next few hours were an incoherent nightmare for her, fading between the relief of unconsciousness and the stark agony of awareness.

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At some point shortly after Armiena had initiated the jump, Xae-Lin had called in one of the other operatives and advised them where they might be able to find a blanket for the emaciated Jedi Master. While Armenia fitfully slept, Xae-Lin reached out to the other woman through the Force and called forth the pure energy of the Lightside to help bolster Draygo, glad they all had made it out of the mission alive.

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Kota sat within the pilot's chair of a Lambda-class shuttle that held the current name of Moot Aklay. Taking his time, he was very careful to change the ID signature, along with the name and historical logs of where the ship had been. It was a priority for him to make sure that upon coming to Coruscant, that he wouldn't be picked up the port authority almost immediately upon landing. He needed to have time to find his way to someone who could help him get his sister back from the filthily slavers. After about a good hour had past, Kota was finally able to change the name of the vessel, along with it's history of where it's been and locked the navicomputer. It was now called the Lazy Mynock, and it belonged to Kota Ni.

 

Now was his time to walk around the ship and get comfortable with it before he landed on Coruscant. The overall layout had changed from the main standard style of Lambda-class shuttles that he had seen. The bridge held only 4 chairs instead of six. The back area held four sleeping quarters, a refresher, a dejarik board, some side storage panels, and then the access to the back gunner position. It was unique enough, yet now far more roomy for long term travel. This was a ship that was well worth stealing. The back area held room for some extra storage area if he ever needed it, but he doubted that whatever job or occupation he was able to find on Coruscant would be something that would require such a need.

 

After a very detailed inspection, the cockpit beeped at him letting him know that he was coming upon Coruscant, so Kota moved back up to the bridge to prepare the exit from lightspeed and it's decent towards one of the busiest planets there was.

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Leaning her forehead against his chest, irrespective of the persistent grease that still marred her features, Jaina willed her questions into silence for the space of a moment, simply to drink in the truth of what he said: whatever the past had held, whatever lay beyond in their future, he was here, now. That hope alone had been enough for her to cling to in the past: it would certainly be enough for the present. Curling her fingers around his, she exhaled the anxiety that rested on her shoulders, releasing the strife and accusation that welled up within her. There would be time enough for explanation and understanding, time enough to mine the depths of what he had endured to make his way back to her, time enough for her to share the wounds and triumphs of her months without him. Gratitude surged in her heart: for now, the moment would be enough.

 

Turning over in her mind the name that he had given as the cause for his inexplicable and selective amnesia, a familiar vision sprang unbidden to recall, striking chill to Jaina’s bones and sending shivers up her spine that she could not attach to any logical source. Irrespective of the grease smeared across her garments, she pressed unconsciously close to Andon, desperate to soak in his warmth. Her mirror image stared back at her from the aether, half solemn and kind, half malevolent and fiery. An open palm extended on one side, on the other, a vengeful fist, the entity that bore her face snarling and soothing, carrying within her the extremes that Jaina herself had explored so fruitlessly.

 

This, then, was the Grey Goddess.

 

The barbaric mistress that bore her features had robbed Andon’s mind of her memory. The thought was ironic in its cruelty. As with all things, though, she needed a reason, in order to still the churning of her mind.

 

“What is she? And how do you know she won’t do the same thing again? And why, out of all the galaxy, does she have it out for you?” Exhaling shakily, she looked back into the security of Andon’s features. “I don’t--it’s just--I don’t think I can survive losing you again.”

 

He took a breath and held it for several moments, a look of contemplation on his face concerning how he was going to word the miasma of revelation contained behind his gaze. “She is an Anathrope… a being of instinct that has gained sentience and will through the ages. She is old, very old, and has learned to covet.”

 

His lips found the crown of Jaina’s head and the kiss of her husband fought against the trembling dark that threatened to undo the moment of solace she had just called her own.

 

“She is not like me, like what I have become. There are few beings that carry my lineage.” Hazel-gray eyes became momentarily distant, as if remembering an encounter from a previous life. Andon turned his head, occupying the same space against the bulkhead that held Jaina’s own vision captive, as if he, too, was able to see the visage of the Goddess bearing Jaina’s face.

 

“She came to me one night, wearing your face.” Andon’s voice became cold. “She offered herself to me in your form, asking for my allegiance in return. What she did on the Dejarik Board was but the first step in the greater legato of her maleficent symphony. She desired me to be the Commander of her Legion; an army of some kind. I declined and she saw that which was intimate and sacred be stripped from me.”

 

Andon’s hand roamed up and down Jaina’s back, the warmth of his touch waning the ache and chill that was trying so desperately to claim her. He stood in silence, almost as if allowing Jaina a moment to process all that he said. All the while, his gaze bored into the image of the Goddess.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid of her anymore. I have eclipsed her in the hierarchy of the… unnatural.” The hand of her husband rested along the back of the Jedi Master’s head, tenderly stroking her hair. “She can’t harm what she is running from in fear. I’m surprised the echo of her visage is even here, knowing that I intend to kill her.”

 

He exhaled in the direction of Goddess and the haunting image of the entity faded away, as if he had banished it from his presence.

 

“My life is yours.” Warm fingers wiped away the tears that clung so desperately to Jaina’s cheeks. “The only place for me now is by your side.”

 

There was a vibration of strength that seemed to emanate from his words as he spoke, and though she had no grounds on which to base the tales he spun or the claims he made, her heart reverberated with the truth of his admission. He had pledged his love to her already, what seemed like entire lifetimes ago on Corellia. Somehow, the simple promise he made ran deeper than that.

 

Andon Colos, the boy she had watched grow to manhood, the man she had followed into masterhood, the master who had gained a modicum of power that she had no metric through which to comprehend, was transfigured before her. The shell of mortality seemed translucent, belying the true nature beneath. There were lifetimes within him she had yet to know, and the challenge of searching them out awakened a fire within her. The lineage into which he had been grafted promised the power to change the course of the galaxy, if only it could be grasped, and yet--

 

And yet, he offered his existence wholly to her, putting aside all other pursuits. Through all the ages of time he had seen across all the universe, in all worthwhile endeavors, she had been his dream.

 

To say the thought was humbling was overwhelmingly understated.

 

Her hands trembled within his, and as she tipped her chin back to meet his gaze, she couldn’t restrain a musical burst of tremulous laughter at the amount of hyperdrive grease that had transferred from her matted hair to his face. There were no words she could offer to match the promise he had made, but the glimmer of sincere love that shone from the depths of her eyes as she brushed fruitlessly at the grease on his features with the increasingly filthy rag bespoke the resonance such a pledge earned within the core of her being. The cloth fell from between her fingers, and she was pressing her palms to his cheeks, reaching for his lips with her own, the soaring demand of her soul to be as close to him as possible echoed in every imaginable expression of every molecule of her body.

 

There was no more time for words.

 

The demand of his embrace lifted her into the air as her form molded to his. The lips of her husband lay claim to hers, and there was an intangible aroma that suggested that the desperation in his kiss did not capture the depth of his desire. The weight of his form pressed her against the wall, and in the haze of his yearning, she swore that they had departed from the life support corridor and had arrived in the Captain’s quarters. She did not remember walking through any entrance to either section of the ship; it was almost as if they had merely passed through the wall and arrived within the room. It did not matter, for the demands of Andon’s longing had enveloped her beyond the point of contemplating such things. She ran her fingers through the shaggy locks of his hazel brown hair and the smile he rewarded her with stripped the room of any further distraction.

 

She lost herself to Andon’s touch, for at this moment, the quietude of his whisper awakened a nature within her that had been kept stilled and quiet, relegated to the forgotten parts of her past, the irreclaimable darkness of loss. The boundless ocean of the celestial’s adoration led her into the private refresher room. Their cloaks were discarded, along with the need for any further words within this stolen moment. There were only instinct and steam to keep husband and wife company, now.

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

May the Forth therve you well...

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Within the jaws of Creational Zero, cast asunder from the Waterfalls of Endless Realty, our Traveler had been isolated within the Empty In Between of all that would ever exist. He pondered if he had made a catastrophic mistake in his process of being infinitely undone, wondering if it would have been better to let the tunnel finish its task of floating away all that he was. Atom by atom he had been scattered into the unknown, yet the smallest speck of his failing heart would not yield. That tiny, stubborn fracture of consciousness that could not bid goodnight to the light of Jaina’s love, was the catalyst that marked the end of the omniverse’s curtain call and became the prelude to Andon’s great Encore of Creation.

 

Deeper down he sank within the maw, tendrils of warmth grasping desperately to his ankles, taking him down 20 Million Leagues Below the Sea of The Endless. There was no shaping this current, nor steering its intent to conform to our hero’s will. For this, he was a mere passenger, terrifying in its own right to the boy who would be king. Hands desperately clawed for any notion of grip within the tides of ethereal empty, revealing no foothold for which to brace himself upon. Downward he went, reaching skyward toward a plane that bore no skies, only to find his hand breaching the break of lavender waves and and depositing him upon a beach of pale azure sand.

 

There was no sun on this world, he soon realized, as he gazed upon the horizon and found dozens of small moons that refracted light from an unknown source upon the shore. How so many satellites in close proximity did not shear the planet into fragments with the multitude of contrasting gravity pulls, he did not know. But in this moment Andon did not care, for he exhaled in relief that he was somewhere. He did not know, he was in fact *many* somewheres, but that is a tale for another time.

 

For now, he reveled upon the world in which he found himself on. He never envisioned that his life would take him to such a place, but he realized that it was, indeed, a good place to find himself. Movement in the distance drew his eyes from the horizon, down to slender forms that vanished as their gazes met his. Something here was alive with him…

 

***

 

Andon opened his eyes and found that he was no longer staring at the waves of lavender ocean, but was laying in the Captain’s Quarters of the Traitor’s Hope. He no longer dreamed when he slept, if such a thing as sleep could describe the quiet motions of his mind in slumber amongst the tides of eternity. Jaina stirred in the bed next to him, and he smiled, realizing this too was a wonderful place to find himself in. Reluctantly, he unraveled himself from the form of his wife and the endless plush sea of blankets she was now surrounded in, and stood up from the bed.

 

It was good to be home.

 

He walked over to the bulkhead wall that was shared between the Captain’s quarters and life support control room… something had caught his eye when they had passed from one side of the wall to the other. Hazel-gray ears looked upon a particular panel for a moment, before he squinted his eyes and the panel slid back, revealing a hidden compartment. He did not find a smuggler’s bounty of treasure within the walls, but to Jaina it was a treasure, indeed. In this sliver of the ship, hung neatly pressed shirts and pants. Clothing that belonged to Andon, specifically. He turned his face toward his wife and smiled, for no matter how hard she had tried to remove the Jedi from her thoughts, Jaina had kept that which reminded her of her husband close and safe. Finding that his current robes would be in need of a deep scrubbing after Jaina’s escapades in repairing the hyperdrive, Andon was glad to have something else to wear.

 

From the hangers, he removed a charcoal gray, long-sleeve button up shirt and black pants; the clothing still immaculately tailored, just as he remembered. Black boots with a surprisingly recent shine and an onyx colored thigh-length long coat completed the outfit change. Andon did not wake Jaina when he exited the room, for she would know where he had gone.

 

Emily.

 

He began to walk toward her quarters, sensing the increasing confliction of his niece’s thoughts. The perpetual struggle to go or stay: she was more like her Aunt Jaina than she realized. Andon stood before the door leading to her room for a moment before knocking, gleaning from the air the chill of jealousy and ache that echoed within the corridor. He lightly rapped on the door with two knuckles, knowing his presence had already announced who was on the other side. It just wasn’t polite to simply barge into a lady’s quarters, after all. There was no immediate answer to his request to enter.

 

“The answer is stay. Don’t leave…”

 

It was abrupt, yet intimate in tone. One day, Andon would have to work on answering questions that only existed as thoughts in the minds of others. But today was not that day.

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She had just stepped out of the sanisteam when there was a knock on the door. Emily sighed. Throwing on some clothes, she heard his muffled voice on the other side of the door. She bit her lip. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now, but she had learned not to put off things like this. Besides, they were still in transit. She couldn’t avoid her uncle forever.

 

With a gesture, she used the Force to trigger the opening mechanism on the door, her back to Andon as she brushed her wet hair. “Why shouldn’t I leave?” she asked. “Jaina doesn’t need me anymore, if she ever did. Not when she has you.”

 

It was decidedly colder with the door open than it was with it closed, Andon had discovered. It was difficult for him to not view her as the little girl on Raxus Prime that had poured endless adoration upon him. However, he had missed most of her life, and he most likely remembered a girl that only existed within his mind when he did so. Emily was a woman, and had experienced much in his time way. Perhaps too much.

 

“Because I need you.” His voice was tender, human in its uncertainty with how it would be taken. “I won’t make you stay, but I would like you to.”

 

He entered the room and mindlessly traced a finger along the frame of the bunk, before leaning against it. “I’ve already missed so much of your life in my… travels. I don’t want to miss anymore with you.”

 

There was an involuntary noise at the back of her throat, and she set the hairbrush down quickly. “You don’t need me,” she countered, trying and failing to hide the tremor of emotion in her voice. “No one needs me. It’s…” she paused, then finally turned to look him in the eye. “It’s my fault, you know. My fault that you were left to seek out answers alone. I could have gone with you. I could have helped you. And together, we would have found what you were seeking. But I abandoned you.” Her voice was full of regret and self-loathing. “Let’s be honest, all I do is make mistakes. And I care too much about you to drag you into my mistakes any longer.”

 

Andon looked at her for a long while, processing all that Emily told him. “You know what hasn’t changed, is you’re a very bad liar.” His voice was light. “You can’t even convince yourself wholly that I don’t need you. I came back for my family, last I checked you were a part of it.”

 

He reached out and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know you would have gone with me if you could choose again. I would have taken you anywhere with me. Maybe even let you fly my ship.”

 

Her uncle smiled as he spoke, as if old hurts had happened lifetimes ago from his perception. Perhaps they had. “But where I went… it was better that I was alone. There were many difficult choices, impossible choices, no one should have to bear the consequences with me.”

 

Andon paused and exhaled, taking a moment to gather his words: it was uncomfortably human. “I could tell you of a great many mistakes with unimaginable catastrophe in their wake,” the cornea of hazel-gray eyes momentarily flashed a vibrant bronze before returning to their normal shade. “But life with you is not something I could ever count as a mistake.”

 

The two were unique in the galaxy because of their eyes, the same two pairs of eyes searching the other now. “Besides, we both know I’m gonna get into trouble regardless of who I’m with. Might as well enjoy the ride with me.”

 

Was it really so simple? Emily felt a war going on inside her. She wanted to believe him. She wanted more than anything to rekindle the familial bond between them. After all, wasn’t that why she was tagging along after Jaina this whole time? Why she was determined to help save Tirzah? Andon believed what he was saying, of that she had no doubt. But she was also practically a stranger to him.

 

When he reached out and tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear, she hurriedly turned away. That one simple gesture set off a firestorm of emotion within her, and she almost sensed Quietus’ presence physically in the room. And with that hallucination came the other side of the argument. You’ve heard pretty words before. Promises, even. Promises that were broken once he saw who you truly are. Andon will do the same thing. It’s only a matter of time. In the end, everyone leaves. It would be better to just cut it off now. To not let herself get reattached. Better for him, and better for her.

 

She was just opening her mouth to tell him that, when another thought occurred to her. Does that mean for the rest of your life you’re not ever going to attempt it? That you’re determined to live as a hermit, cutting yourself off from everyone left that you care about? Or are you brave enough to try? To risk getting hurt again, yes. But the moments in between the hurt...aren’t they worth it? Despite the pain and the mistakes, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t regret her time spent with Quietus or with Raia or with Nishant or even with her parents.

 

She bit her lip. “Nothing will ever stop us from being family,” she said softly. “You’ll eventually see the truth of who I am, and it will become too much for you. I’ve seen it over and over again. But until then, you’re my uncle, and I’ll always be there for you.” She paused. “But...being near Jaina now...it’s like all my emotional wounds are being constantly torn into. She has gotten everything she ever wanted, plus everything I ever wanted on top of it. And it’s...I love her, but it’s hard to see. I don’t want jealousy to make me into someone I’m not, or to ruin what trust we’ve been able to build between us.”

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

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Her words hung in the air and all that was left unsaid reverberated between the walls. For the briefest of moments, Andon turned his head to face an empty spot within the room, as if another person had entered it. Curious. His gaze held the spot for a moment, before his shook his head and returned his attention back to Emily.

 

“I understand”, his voice was noticeably heavier. “You’re not our prisoner. I won’t keep you here, if that is what you wish. I don’t want to cause you pain by keeping you too close.”

 

Andon no longer leaned against the bed frame, but moved toward Emily. His index finger found her chin and gently turned her face to him, their eyes meeting once more. “But we’re all that we have left. Trust me, it’s so much lonelier out there then any of us could ever realize. We’re here, together, now. That’s more family than the three of us have had in our entire lives.”

 

His voice softened, no longer carrying the carefree humor that it possessed earlier. “So don’t go. Stay with me. Stay with both of us. I’m asking you to stay, for me. I’ve done things that have… changed me. I need you to be around, I need your help to remember what I once was.”

 

Her uncle’s voice trailed off, as if even he was at a loss for words to describe all that he had been through and seen. “Stay for Tirzah. She wasn’t there to be a part of any hurts that may have been caused. She needs her cousin…”. For the first time in years, his voice sounded sad as the last sentence left his lips and floated outward into the air. He knew that the mere mention of Tirzah would draw about an agonizing loss from Emily that he would not be able to understand, as a man.

 

“But I need to tell you something if you’re going to stay, something you should know.”

 

Unconsciously, he reached out with his hand as if to trace the scars upon her stomach, but withdrew his hand. She had not taken it well the last time he had shown such affection, and didn’t want to cause her any more confliction.

 

“On Yavin IV, when I … understood… what happened to you. When I touched the marks on your womb, I- I tried to change what had happened.” Andon dropped his gaze to the floor, ashamed to look at her. “I tried to save your child. But I couldn’t. For all I’ve become, there are still some things that I cannot do. What happened with the Cult, it was a fixed event in time. Not even I could change what happened… I couldn’t take that hurt from you.”

 

He sat down on the bed, resting his chin within the web of his hand. He was dangerously mortal in this moment, and became unsure for the first time in many lifetimes. “I tried, but I couldn’t save you from that. I’m so sorry…”

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As he tilted her head back, Emily’s eyes bored into his. And for the first time in years, she saw the eyes of her father. John looked out from Andon’s eyes, that knowing smirk that always haunted them there if she searched hard enough. And there was no way she could say no to those eyes.

 

In that moment, Emily realized something about who she was. Yes, she was broken. Yes, she made mistakes. Yes, she drove people away. But there was one redeemable quality about her: she would do anything for her family. With that clarity came a sensation of rest, like the teasing of a fresh cool wind on a dry hot afternoon. She clung to it.

 

Then Andon blinked and the moment was gone, but the memory endured. Whatever pain would come, it would come. She wasn’t going to let future pain stop her from salvaging whatever good life had left to offer her.

 

She had just come to a decision when Andon offered one last bit of information. He tried… That knowledge was final confirmation. He had tried. He had failed, but she knew that some things couldn’t be changed. Some people couldn’t be saved. Slowly, she sank down on the bed next to him, and then slipped her arm under his, intertwining their fingers. “Thank you,” she said simply, her voice sad but steady. “I...I’m here for you as long as you want me. As long as you need me. And longer.”

 

They sat in silence for a few more moments. Emily just treasured being near him after all these years. A few more heartbeats passed, and Emily gradually broke the silence again. “You know, it’s been 22 years today since my father died?” She untangled their hands and rose. Crossing the room, she grabbed one of her lightsabers and twisted off the end cap, revealing a small wafer. She tipped it out and crossed back over to the bed. Resuming her seat, she clicked the wafer with her fingertip and a holo appeared. It was the same holo she had had on her ship before it’s destruction--Andon and John stood in the center of the frame, twin smirks on their faces, while their wives graced their sides, grinning. “I think the Force has a wry sense of humor in it’s timing sometimes.”

 

The image of the holo robbed the air from Andon’s lungs. He stared at it for a long while, the tips of his fingers hesitantly reaching out to graze the image of John and Sirvani, as if he could will them to life with but a touch. The trace of his fingers caused a slight distortion in the holo, causing his hand to cease its attempt and return to his side. He remembered that day well… it was the last day that the four of them were together. Before Hapes. Before The Precipice. Before The Room of Infinite Thrones.

 

Andon draped his arm around Emily’s shoulders and pulled her close to him as they looked at the holo for untold moments together.

 

“I miss your dad every day. It’s good that you’re staying, he would want it that way.

 

“He’d want me to look after you.” He turned to face Emily, that familiar family smirk tracing his lips. “Because if you’re going to get into mischief, you might as well get into spectacular mischief.”

 

No matter where he had been and what he had done, it was abundantly clear that somewhere beneath the layers of what he had become, her uncle was still the Andon of her youth.

 

That was enough to elicit a small chuckle from her. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” She smiled wryly. “Yeah, I suppose we should stick together.” She hesitated for the briefest moment. “If only to keep all that Colos-Skywalker crazy in one place.”

 

“Absolutely.” His smile was light and goodness, “can’t just let that kind of magic run around uninhibited. Entire worlds would revolt.”

 

He turned his head to the wall, as if seeing something beyond the scope of Emily’s vision. Jaina was up and would be here soon. His smile grew. His wife would find them when she was ready, for now, he simply enjoyed Emily’s company.

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

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Jaina's return to consciousness was slow and hazy. While she was dimly aware of the stirring of her husband beside her and his subsequent departure, she clung to the momentary peace and buried her face into the softness of the pillow, absolving her eyes of the burden of their work and letting the dark rhythm of hyperspace continue for a little while longer. The oaky scent of Andon's hair seemed to fill the shreds of wakening, and there was a peace in the Force that seemed to whisper that all would be put to rights. The hope that she had sought fruitlessly and shouldered as a bond of her soul now came easily, a glowing contentment that eked out of her every pore. Space itself seemed less cold now that he had returned.

 

Like a feral jungle cat, she stretched sleepily, gracefully, willing herself to conquer the task of waking and determined to set about making caf before their landing on Coruscant. As her feet hit the cold decking, she crossed to her small closet, but a feeling that something was out of place halted her, and she did a double-take at the seal on the hidden wall compartment. It was closed, but not entirely, suggesting that Andon must have divined its existence--how, she had no way of knowing, but neither was she surprised--and a sudden catch in her throat choked her to tears.

 

How many sleepless nights had she returned to that compartment, desperate for a reminder that he had existed beyond a distant memory? How often and how fondly had she buried herself in the scent of him, torn in every decision, soothed by the reminder that he had trusted her and it was worthwhile for her to learn to trust herself? And now the mementos she had kept had exhausted their sentimental purpose, returning to a practicality she had long determined to be impossible.

 

A calm that she had long attributed to getting lost in the eternal waves of Chadra tides settled into her bones, and a secret smile she could not suppress crept its way onto her face as she dressed and moved to the galley to obtain her requisite elixir.

 

Clutching the steaming mug of caf between both hands, she ducked through the doorway to the cockpit, and what she saw gave her momentary pause. Tucked under the central control console, a pair of tall tuskcat slippers slumped lazily sideways, as if they had gotten bored waiting for her. The quiet smile became wistful as she pulled them over her bare feet, the residual chill of her toes dissipating into the furry warmth. The barrage of emotion that came with the simple act was halted by the proximity alarm, which startled Jaina enough that she nearly spilled the caf into her lap. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that neither of the ship's other occupants had been witnesses to her maladroitness, she toggled the hyperspace lever, and the Traitor's Hope hiccupped out of hyperspace. The tunnel of stars came to an end, letting them out at a familiar sight: the grey and neon ecumenopolis of Coruscant, hanging poised in nothingness, clad in the sheer negligee of its shimmering planetary shield.

 

All things considered, it didn't take altogether too long to break their way into the atmosphere, following the never-ending queue of ships toward the familiar destination where her computer readout told her she could find Skye. So much history had happened here...

 

...but it was not the time for reminiscence. Tirzah was waiting.

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

May the Forth therve you well...

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