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Corellia


Darth Jade

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Skye's request, normally, he would have brushed off as an overreaction, but something in her eyes belied the severity of the situation. He nodded wordlessly and broadcast the landing request for the incoming Serenity to any CoreSec personnel that remained on the ground near Coronet HQ. Before long, the speeders came into view of the large plume of dark smoke that marred the otherwise glistening Coronet skyline.

 

When they arrived at the scene, little was left of what had been the central building of CoreSec's Corellian complex. Without wasting any time, Tenebris marched his patrol to one of the outbuildings where they had begun to set up an interim command center and triage--eerily like the situation on Coruscant that he had come here to investigate. The team set up a perimeter outside the makeshift headquarters, but Tenebris turned to the pair of women behind him, gauging them with his eyes.

 

"Master, I could use your help establishing an effective triage of all wounded citizenry using your ship as an onsite medical center. Your provisional identification should allow you to move through our lines without delay," he asked quietly, grave sincerity echoing from his eyes.

 

Turning to Lux, he debated momentarily dismissing her from the investigation, but instinctively he knew that was not the right call. "As for you, Lux," he said in an equally calm and quiet tone, "I am willing to allow you to accompany me as a second set of eyes, but you must be no more than a shadow until I ask for your assistance. This whole investigation just got a lot more complicated."

 

Holding her ebony gaze for a moment more, he tamped down on the flicker of sorrow that threatened to bubble up when he thought of the brothers and teammates he had lost over the past week, first on Coruscant, now here in Coronet City. With a gruff exhale, he turned on his heel and disappeared through the flap of the massive tent.

 

The Lieutenant in charge was a harried Sullustan with a bandage wrapped in a cockeyed slant across his wide head. Tenebris had to interrupt his chattering no fewer than four times before getting a decent summary of the attack, insufficient as it was.

 

"One more time, Lieutenant Niib," he said exasperatedly. "And slow down, if you please."

 

The Sullustan clapped a shivering hand to his head and prattled on in his native tongue once more, slower, but still fast enough that the only words Tenebris could effectively discern were "madman", "speeder", "saber", "blood", "dead", and "Faust".

 

Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest. "No remains of the attacker?"

 

<"His broken and burnt body remained,"> the Lieutenant answered shortly. <"But the autopsy reveals nothing out of the ordinary, only the wounds one would expect from one who had endured such a crash and firefight.">

 

The information gathered from the deceased assailant's home, as well as the security holos, were presented to Tenebris in short order. Almost immediately, he knew he was out of his depth, his gut sinking. No, this was no prank. The naive question he had posed to Skye came back to mind tauntingly as he surveyed the flash of the blue saber as it cut through his men--good, loyal men--is there an evil nature to this power you wield?

 

Glancing up at Lux, he pulled his comlink from his pocket. "Master Organa, please return to Headquarters. There's something here you should see."

 

It seemed mere moments before she reappeared, and he skipped any introduction as he gave a sweeping hand gesture to the motion of the crazed saber-wielding man--one Gavo Malako, a perfectly ordinary Corellian citizen--replaying on the holoprojector behind him.

 

"Faust I know, Luciferian I know, even the infamous General Vaklu," he said somberly, "but Morthos? What do you make of all this, Master Organa?"

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The scene that met them once they arrived at CoreSec HQ was as bad as the Jedi Healer had expected. She noticed that I-Nine had put Serenity down right near the triage area.

 

"Master, I could use your help establishing an effective triage of all wounded citizenry using your ship as an onsite medical center. Your provisional identification should allow you to move through our lines without delay."

 

Skye gave a sharp nod to Tenebris turned and headed towards the triage officer who looked extremely stressed out. “I’m Jedi Healer Skye Organa,” she told him as she moved in amongst the wounded. “I want the most serious patients closest to my ship, the stable patients here and the light injuries over there. They can be transported to the nearest hospital.” Skye pointed out the areas. The officer heaved a sigh of relief that someone medical was there to take charge. As he went to organize the triage Skye made her way to her ship. She went through the decontamination scan and grabbed her medkit. As Skye left the ship she noticed the other medics moving through the wounded. She gave instructions for I-Nine to help the doctors bring in the most severe casualties and signaled for Flitter to come with her as she made her way back through the wounded. Hearing a shout for help, the Jedi Master looked up, seeing that they were trying to get another of the wounded out from the rubble though it was very precarious. She could see how the rescuers were concerned about more rubble falling onto the trapped and injured Agent. Flitter extended an arm to take Skye’s medkit which she relinquished quickly, her hands motioning in front of her to ‘grab’ the pylon as it teetered and slid forward, “Quickly, get him out!” she ordered when they saw it stop mid air and turned to stare at her. “She’s a Jedi!” several of them murmured before they sprang back into action. Once they had got the injured Agent out she lowered the pylon to the ground and moved to examine him. Skye let the Force swirl around her, her hand hovering a few centimeters above him. It didn’t take long for her to find the internal bleeding, “Take him into my operating theatre in my ship and prep him for surgery. I-Nine will show you the way. We need to hurry, he is bleeding internally.” As they called for a hover stretcher she headed straight for her ship, going through the decontamination and into her room to change out of her armour and into her Healer scrubs. Moments later she was in the theatre working on her patient with her micro Force focus with a nurse and doctor working on the patient as well. Flitter hovered above displaying the Agent’s vital statistics by way of a holo projection. Time seemed to slow as she narrowed her focus to fix the damage, on another holoscreen the internal damage was shown, showing a live feed on the damage being corrected through the Force. This allowed the nurse and doctor to see what she was doing. While her hands were above the patient, they glowed with a soft blue light with the intensity of Force concentration.

 

Just as she was finishing up her comm. sounded. "Master Organa, please return to Headquarters. There's something here you should see." She answered affirmative and turned to the nurse and doctor that had assisted her. “Can you take it from here? I-Nine will prepare for the next patient. I have a ward set up for observation and then when the patients are stable we can transfer them to the hospital.” They were glad to have her well set up facilities at their disposal. Following her instincts she turned to ask I-Nine to set up another holoscreen as she wanted Flitter with her. Skye removed her surgical gown and wrapped her utility belt around her waist, her saber hanging from it. She was done with hiding the fact that she was a Jedi Master. It was time for the Order to make itself known to the general public once more. Besides which, the rumors stating she was a Jedi were already circulating. She made her way through to where Tenebris and Lux were, only having to flash her Provisional ID once to be shown straight through.

 

As Tenebris showed her the footage she watched it through completely before asking for it to be played again, only this time she had Flitter project footage of Faust in battle to play alongside the footage of this incident. “Slow down the speed… look, see how the movements are almost identical? It is Faust. He was controlling this Gavo Malako.” She looked at the other evidence provided and took in the holo images that had been taken. "If you don't mind, I'd like to do my own autopsy as well. With the Force guiding me I may find something that has been missed. Can his body be brought to my ship?"

 

"Faust I know, Luciferian I know, even the infamous General Vaklu, but Morthos? What do you make of all this, Master Organa?"

“I haven’t heard of this Morthos either. I’ll send Master Kirlocca a comm. I need to report to him regardless… maybe he has heard something about who this Morthos is. I will need to send him a copy of this comparison too.” Skye looked back at the holo projections, paused on the clearest image from both lots of footage, old and new. “I’ll send Master Kirlocca a comm. now if you will excuse me a moment. Flitter, process a side by side comparison to send please,” Skye murmured to her hover droid as the two moved to a reasonably quiet corner so she could send the comm.

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((Roene))

 

With his business done and the approach of afternoon hot on his heels, Roene made his way to Coronet General hospital. It was well past the time he planned to arrive, but the diversion was well worth his time. He looked forward to exploring a promising future with miss Kismet. But a looming question still hung in his mind like a dreary leech. Why was Miena’ma here, and what did this mean?

 

He looked to the Corellian star as it hit the apex of its rotation. The cold air of the morning slipped into a warmer afternoon breeze that licked the side of Roene’s cheek, feeding a chord of anxiety that was deep in his gut. Sweat covered his brow and uncertainty clouded the breadth of his mental capacity. The more he mused about it, the more his mind congested. His steps became uneven and one of his hearts drew heavier beats than the other. It was insanity, which was unusual for the level-headed Cerean, but Roene hardly thought about his family. Cereans are a dying race, and those that don’t go home and procreate are looked at shamefully. He hadn’t thought about his egress for years, but now the stress of it all started to come back in silent waves.

 

Each step toward his grandmother was a painful reminder of the decision he made. And Miena’ma was the only one that supported his decision to leave. She was one of the most adamant when it came to tradition, yet she could see why Roene wanted to leave. It was an odd sort of irony. And one that Roene fought to bear.

 

The calloused pads of his feet found the entrance to the hospital clear of any crowd. Tyue was off to the side, looking up at the Cerean’s approach with a pugnacious expression. It seemed a little uncharacteristic for the small animal to view him in such a way, but his irritation was well founded. Roene told the pup to meet him here a few hours ago and the Garral had been understandably impatient. He was fidgety and liked to run. The thought of standing still and waiting was counterproductive to his biological need for playtime. Seeing the distress that this decision caused him, Roene dismissed Tyue and walked carefully into the hospital. Or, at least he tried to.

 

A stammering silver-plated protocol droid on the right side of the door stopped Roene from moving further into the building. The smell of hygienic chemicals pushed against the Cerean’s sensitive nose and he began to feel the presence of his grandmother on the second floor. The protocol droid held a hand out and was looking at Roene’s feet.

 

“Yes?” Roene asked politely, knowing full well what the droid was going to say, and smiling warmly in response.

 

“S-sir, this is a hygienic facility. You can’t come in here without shoes!” The droid said, stuttering.

 

Roene regarded its apprehension. It wasn’t every day you saw a Jedi walking cavalierly into a hospital, but in the end, the droid’s anxiety was unwarranted. After all, Roene wasn’t aggressive and would not lift a finger against anyone in the building unless he saw no other option. Roene figured he might have this problem though, so he packed some thin moccasins in his belt pouch. It was a simple fix. And, when the thin cloth shoes were sufficiently affixed to his weathered feet, the droid nodded and let the Jedi continue through the facility unhindered.

 

Dr. Methilue, a small brown-haired bothan, was pacing back and forth in an operating room five doors down from the second-floor entrance. Roene had to talk his way through multiple checkpoints to get there. Which, he thought, was a little excessive. But Roene knew that, with the terrorist attacks going on, one couldn’t be too careful with security. When Roene walked through the door, Methilue looked up and took note. A swift nod was all she needed. She moved closer to Roene with a small mechanical device and started to inspect him. She ran the medical device all over his body and gave him a small shot to his leg. It was a bit abrupt and all-of-a-sudden. Roene suddenly regretted being so permissive. Yet her body language and demeanor suggested nothing out of the ordinary, and if she was protecting his grandmother, then a few mildly invasive inspections were fine.

 

“Hello Mr. Givr-” the doctor started.

 

“Please, just call me Roene.” Roene interrupted, bowing his head out of respect.

 

“Okay. Well, Roene, it seems your grandmother has come down with a mysterious illness. It isn’t lethal, as far as we can tell. But we think that, if left untreated, it will lead to fatal symptoms.” Methilue said, her voice never straying from a doctoral coldness that Roene was somewhat familiar with. “That isn’t all, however. It was clear, before she and I left Cerea, that this plague is present on the planet in all the major population centers. If not solved, or treated, this ‘plague’ will lead Cerea to greater tragedy than has already befallen their declining population.”

 

Roene could feel his shoulders sink. He looked to his grandmother who was splayed out on a medical table and shuddered when he saw the damage. The veins that ran from both her hearts were starting to turn a sickly green color. Her breaths were labored and shallow. The skin on her forehead was clammy and her temperature was way beyond the galactic standard.

 

A hint of sorrow touched his brow as he neared his ill grandmother. And, as if triggered by his presence, she awoke and smiled at him. The film of her foggy, deep blue, eyes stared listlessly into his sky-colored gaze. “Hello, Roene… My, how you’ve grown.”

 

She seemed somewhat oblivious to the affliction that took hold of her. Her greeting was warm and familiar. But her voice cracked. Roene could see the struggle she took to come up with the words and move from where she lay. It was heart-wrenching to watch.

 

“Yes Miena, I have,” Roene said. His smile was weak, but he offered one as a comfort for his grandmother. Her smile grew in response and she fought to prop herself up. Roene rushed to her side, providing a ballast for her to gain stability. When her body was finally erect, she reached her arms around Roene and gave him a deep hug.

 

She felt frail in his hands. Her body was weak and trembling. Like a baby, Roene cradled the fragile body of his grandmother, his sorrow deepening with each new realization.

 

“How could this happen? Why did this? When?” Roene’s questions were rapid and without direction. Apprehension littered his inquisition and frantic urgency motivated his desperate mind. Emotional turmoil bubbled beneath the surface, begging to be unleashed. But he wouldn’t lose control. There was no logical explanation for this and losing control would be tantamount to an irrational childish tantrum. No. Roene needed answers. He needed to find what was going on and he needed to find out how to fix it. When he could afford to move his face, Roene turned to look at Dr. Methilue. The sheer blue of his eyes glinted with a determined fire.

 

“You said this happened on Cerea?” Roene asked. Methilue nodded. “Alright, if you can take care of my grandmother, I think I might be able to figure something out. How much time do I have?”

 

Methilue looked over her notes for a moment and crossed the operating room to look at a few readouts on the wall. “Judging by my analysis, I would give this sickness a month before it reaches fatal implications. I will do my utmost to care for your grandmother. But, as I said, if the sickness becomes fatal, there is only so much I can do.”

 

One of Roene’s minds questioned the doctor. It looked at the doctor’s mannerisms and questioned the efficacy of her claims. But if the future of his species was on the line, he owed it to his family to get to the bottom of this. He owed it to his grandmother. He owed it to himself. Ultimately, if he was chosen to find the answer, he better find it fast. It was a twist of ironic fate that led a prodigal son of Cerea to be its savior, but Roene shrugged any doubts from his mind. It would not help him when the time came.

 

Roene paused, and gently placed his grandmother back on the hospital bed. He wrapped her in her blanket and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead -- as she used to do for him when he was a child.

 

“Don’t worry Miena’ma. I will find what ails you, and I will help our people.” Roene said. He turned to leave, small bits of saline welling up at the corners of his eyes, and took one passing look at the doctor before he left. She performed another test or two before permitting Roene to leave, but he hesitated in the door frame and lingered on the doctor’s expression.

 

“Please make sure nothing happens to her.”

 

The words were terse and clipped. And when the doctor acknowledged his comment, he left the medical facility. He sent a message to Tyue through the force and fled to the meadow he showed Ms. Kismet, to clear his thoughts.

 

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((Lux))

 

Lux barely got off her speeder before life seemed to barrel forward without clear direction. The desire to help was strong, but with everything that was swirling around her, she couldn’t find a single thing she could effectively help with. The destruction that was wrought - the merciless element to it - reminded her of her own sorrow and did something to renew her grieving. But she didn’t have time for that. Tenebris didn’t have time for that, and Skye didn’t have time for that. Lives were on the line and if Lux was going to serve as a helpful tool in this investigation, she needed to keep her wits about her.

 

In the meantime, Lux followed behind Tenebris at a moderate pace. She acknowledged that her presence might have been a hindrance, and sought to provide space in between them and give him room to operate. This was his show, she was just here to watch. She didn’t know as much about the situation as she would have liked, but she didn’t want to question it either. If she needed to know, she would have been told, right?

 

Lux walked a pace or two behind Tenebris when he entered the massive tent. She listened as well as she could to the rapid mumblings of the sullustan lieutenant. But, as with Tenebris, the Sullustan’s mumblings were very difficult to decipher.

 

Her eyes were still trying to adjust to the light, or that was her rudimentary justification. In truth, she had no idea what was going on. The rainbows of five minutes ago, turned into blobs of color; reds, blues, purples, and yellows to be specific. Each person was a blob of red with yellow in the middle while the area around them was varying shades and hues of the same. It was distracting, but she did whatever she could to let it go for now. Then, right about the time that Skye came back, Lux’s eyes shifted again and all she could see were talking skeletons. A pounding headache accompanied each transition and when all she could see was bones, her skin started to crawl. It was like she walked straight into a horror holovid that she couldn’t turn off. Her stomach turned, but she refused to mention any of this. It wasn’t important to the mission. And Tenebris told her, unless he asked for her assistance, to not interrupt.

 

She was aware that she might be stubborn at times, but she knew when enough was enough. His fury would do him no good in this situation, so her intervention would bring nothing but more complications. Instead, Lux stood in the place she was, a pace or two back from him, and held her hands at her sides.

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A Comm message came in for Skye Organa from Ossus. The encryption was light, as Kirlocca did not care if people knew he was on Ossus.

 

 

<< Skye, I have heard none of those names before, nor are there any mentions of them in the archives. I think a little more light on the situation would be helpful. As a member of the Jedi Council, I think you are a wise fit to pursue a lead on this. I must visit Carida and meet with Head of State Raven Zinthos. Please send me any more information you can collect on those two names. Also, be weary on your travels. Xae-Lin Ardel has reported word of a cultist group that took out a library on Raxus Prime. I would urge caution if you head towards a location that is similar. May the Force be with you. >>

 

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While Skye excused herself to send a message, Tenebris was left alone with the shreds of information his team had been able to gather. Glancing back at Lux, a mirthless smile twitched at the corner of his mouth as he nodded at her. The Thyrsian had been true to her word: nary a peep had come from her since they had arrived at the command center. He was just about to speak to her when one of the corporals, a man Tenebris did not know, approached him with sallow eyes. "Major E'lann, sir, we just got word from our teams sorting through the wreckage. Commissioner Antilles was killed in the blast."

 

"Send word to the next ranking officer on site to inform them that they will be henceforth serving as commissioner," he began, but the corporal immediately shook his head. "Sir, I'm afraid that the next ranking officer on site is you."

 

Sighing, Tenebris ran a hand over his face, scratching at the shadow that had begun to mar his chin after a long and trying pair of days on since the Coruscant hospital attack, and leaned on the conference table before him. One thing after another, he thought darkly. With a heavy exhale, he stood upright, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow. Commissioner for the Corellian branch. The unorthodox promotions kept coming.

 

"Thank you, Corporal," he said quietly. "Will there be anything else?"

 

The titch of hesitation in the corporal's actions was foreboding, but he nevertheless handed over a datapad. "This just came over from Logistics. They analyzed the combat style of the attacker."

 

"And?" he said calmly, but bracing against the answer as he flipped through the datapad.

 

"Faust," the corporal blanched. "Unmistakably."

 

Kriff.

 

He tossed the datapad on the table. They had next to no leads, a dead Corellian whose life bore no visible connection to the dead maniac that tried to turbolaser the galaxy, two headquarters' full of dead CoreSec agents, and every reason to believe that something was afoot in the galaxy. It was maddening. But if they only had one lead, they would use their one lead.

 

He turned on his heel to look at Lux. "Are you seeing this through with me, or am I taking you back to Coruscant? If the latter, you will forget everything you just heard, and speak of it to no one. If the former..."

 

His sparkling blue eyes themselves seemed to sigh as the weight of his decision settled in. The search for Relmis could continue at a later date, or once the chaos of the attack on Coronet settled down, he could assign some of his personnel there. His voice raised in volume enough to include the returning Skye in his next statement, the question being essentially posed to both of them. And for some reason, he could not seem to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that whispered hope that the sable Thyrsian, even in all her impulsive chaos, would come along.

 

"Then pack up. We're going to Onderon."

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Roene sat, his brow covered in sweat and his thoughts moored to a stress filled pier. He could not shake the misgivings that lay untampered in his mind. He could not shake the doubts that littered the pathways of his consciousness. He could not stand to the torrent of despair that befell his people and their culture. But, he could hear a bird chirping off in a distant glade. He could feel the caress of the grass against his hands. He could hear the groaning of the trees as they wrestled with the early afternoon wind. And he could regulate his breathing and his nerves.

 

He was a Jedi. He was a Cerean. He should know how to handle this trouble. And he would make it, regardless of the weight and regardless of the plague of ill confidence that haunted his footsteps. He had passed severe trials before; personal trials that begged sacrifices bigger than this one. He had devoted his life to the scholarly pursuit of the Jedi and their ways. And he would not back down from this challenge. He refused to.

 

Roene sat, his robes jumbled on the ground underneath him. Eyes closed and hands out, he touched at the long grass near the brook. It was hours before he was meant to meet with Joelle and he spent his time in solitude, musing over his troubles and attempting to iron out his misgivings.

 

But trouble awoke his meditation.

 

A violent rumble in the force gave way to a physical sound and sharp escalation of distress throughout his thoughts. Death. Destruction. Pain. Misery.

 

The distress muddled his self-doubt and catalyzed his body. He leaped to his feet and turned in the direction of the disturbance, interrogating the empty space that sat beside him. He let out a small message to Tyue before departing and took off with a puff of smoke in his wake. Leaves rattled from above and cracked beneath his feet, but no other disturbances accompanied him. The force sang through his body with every inhalation and pounded with him at every beat of his heart. His worries shuffled and his focus set. This was his new target, whatever this was. The diversion was necessary. Veins surged with the breadth of his power and carried the weight of his exertion throughout his body, balancing his stride and carrying him to the edge of the city.

 

At the edge, he slowed. Joelle taught him a very valuable lesson and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice; even if that mistake led to a very pleasant meeting. Because of this, it took him a little longer to reach his destination. From the signal, it wasn’t clear how much time he had. It could have been something small and fierce or it could have been something painful and prolonged. What was clear, was that no one was in any real hurry to calm down. The disaster was reaching the barest edges of its fever pitch when Roene arrived. He bore witness to multiple paramedics and officials rushing to and from various trauma sites. He even thought he saw a Jedi or two running around in between the ranks of medical personnel. But for the moment, Roene was reduced to useless spectating.

 

So, not wanting to feel like a withering piece of flotsam, Roene rolled up his sleeves and immediately set to work. He walked toward any injured folk he could find and started to examine them with the force. Triage was practiced on those that had fractures and more severe breakages. Pain relief and comfort were given to those that were recovering from more serious interior wounds. And Roene was at the center of it all. His experience with healing was not as adept as Master Skye Organa’s, but he wasn’t a slouch at it either. Several times the doctors and nurses tried to escort Roene off the premises, but his procedures were helping more than hindering and his calm tone and demeanor helped to condition their frantic nerves.

 

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Lux’s vision returned to relative normalcy – although, blue tinges plagued the edges of everything she looked at. Her head tilted toward Tenebris and her gaze creased a little. His thoughts were coming apart at the seams and stress was besetting his mind. And, as much as Lux wanted to help, she didn’t really have a cohesive strategy to help him with his problems. Even careful optimism, when uttered at the wrong time, could just make things worse. But help – good help – was often hard to find, even if the problem seemed obvious. Sometimes taking a risk and pushing yourself into a conversation could yield better results than prolonged silence. And sometimes, silence was the preferred option.

 

When Lux felt a break in the conversation, she looked at Tenebris and gave a small smile. It wasn’t a pleased smile, so much as it was an attempt at positive thinking. So much death and despair surrounded them. Lux wanted to find some ground to stand on that wasn’t littered with bodies.

 

“Majo – Commissioner, I guess,” Lux stammered, trying to remember the odd promotion he just received. “My mother always used to tell me: ‘whenever you find yourself lost in the dark. Always try to find the light. No matter where you are, there is always something to be found.’ I know it can sound a bit hoaky. But those words carried me through years of harassment from my male peers, and words of hate thrown by Echani females that thought I wasn’t good enough to train with them. But, I stood my ground and have stood my ground ever since I came to Coruscant.”

 

The Thyrsian’s lips contoured into a more convincing smile and her confused gaze turned into a more convincing glance of reassurance. “I know we can do this. I’ll see what I can dig up in the bank’s records about Vaklu and Faust. My superiors have also approved my vacation hours. Which, since I haven’t needed a vacation in a while, have stacked up quite a bit. I will come with you to Onderon. I’ll get my things ready and report back to your ship.”

 

And with that, Lux nodded her affirmation and awaited further orders before scurrying back to Commisioner E’lann’s ship.

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As she waited for the reply, Skye walked back to Tenebris and Lux, arriving just as the Corporal told Tenebris that he was the next ranking officer and then that their Logistics had confirmed the combat style as Faust. “Congratulations Commissioner,” she murmured before adding, “I’ve sent a message to Master Kirlocca and will hopefully receive a message back soon.” No sooner had she said it than her comm. chirped signaling an incoming message.

 

<< Skye, I have heard none of those names before, nor are there any mentions of them in the archives. I think a little more light on the situation would be helpful. As a member of the Jedi Council, I think you are a wise fit to pursue a lead on this. I must visit Carida and meet with Head of State Raven Zinthos. Please send me any more information you can collect on those two names. Also, be weary on your travels. Xae-Lin Ardel has reported word of a cultist group that took out a library on Raxus Prime. I would urge caution if you head towards a location that is similar. May the Force be with you. >>

 

As she listened to the message her eyes widened in surprise. As a member of the Jedi Council… Since when had that happened? Skye gave herself a mental shake, concentrating on the rest of the message. It was interesting what he had to say about Xae-Lin’s report about a cultist group. She would send her a message and ask what she knew of this cult. She would also ask if Xae had heard of Morthos or if she’d heard anything about Faust’s activities.

 

"Then pack up. We're going to Onderon." Tenebris’ voice broke through her musings regarding the comm. she’d just received. “That was from Master Kirlocca.

He hasn't heard of Morthos, nor is there mention in the archives. Serenity is still being used for the wounded. Once the patients have been stabilized they can be transferred to the hospital and we’ll be set to go to Onderon,” she paused before she continued, “Looks like you’re not the only one with a promotion. I have just been informed that I’m on the Jedi Council. I also have word that Xae-Lin Ardel is warning about a cultist group. Being that you are now a Commissioner it is only right to inform you of it. I’ll send Xae a comm. to see what she can tell us about this cultist group and I’ll ask her if she’s heard of Morthos or if she’s heard about Faust and his activities.”

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With a calculating nod, Tenebris regarded the blue-armored Jedi Master. His initial impression of her as a meddlesome magnet for conflict was beginning to wear thin, and something in her calm and easy manner soothed the disquiet he felt in patching up the aftermath of such an attack. "Perhaps," he said moderately, with a warmth playing at the corners of his eyes, "we are beginning to understand one another, Master Organa."

 

Taking note of Lux's retreat towards the spaceport, he escorted Skye towards the triage center that her ship was now hosting, intent on surveying the situation for himself before he rallied his troops for an excursion into Vaklu's territory. As they approached, it became obvious that the Corellian peace corps had arrived in full force, and all spare medical personnel--not spread thin like they had been in the wake of several major terrorist incidents on Coruscant--were coming out of the woodwork to lend assistance.

 

There was one public servant in particular who stood out among the rest for his strange dress. Cereans were known as peace-loving and intelligent beings, but this one in particular was dressed to the nines in what could only be described as a Holonet-accurate, stereotypical Jedi. Gesturing with his chin as he broke his at-attention stance to lean down towards Skye, Tenebris indicated the Cerean in question. "A friend of yours?"

 

It seemed as though the process of relocating the wounded to local hospitals had begun, and the fully stocked surgery on board the Serenity was becoming redundant. Picking his way through the stretchers, he reached a hand toward the Cerean in greeting. "Commissioner E'lann of CoreSec. Thank you for your assistance, Master Jedi."

 

The words sounded almost strange coming out of his mouth, and he had to guard against turning to survey the expression on Master Organa's features. He had learned more about the mysterious cult of saber-wielders in a week than he had his whole life previous, and while he still found himself somewhat guarded, a newfound respect that he had not quite acknowledged leeched into his speech.

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The essential elements of biology were similar; cell structure, in its basic elements, and the basis for viruses and treatments were very consistent. Biologically, however, humanoid species were a little more complicated than plants and animals. As such, it took Roene more time to decipher what a normal Jedi healer would. He had to reassess the damage multiple times and spend extra time on a wound before it would fully heal. It was an ordeal of patience and one that Roene bore gladly. Jedi were guardians and protectors. It was their job to help if they could.

 

Eyes wide and hands open, Roene moved his palms over the patient’s prone body. She was breathing, but her efforts were labored. The third and fourth ribs on the left side of her body had broken in when a piece of rubble slammed into her side as she walked passed. Helen Saveera was on her way to the supermarket and had only recently regained consciousness. Now, she was murmuring to herself and trying to stay calm. Roene noticed the anxiety and moved a hand to her head. He projected feelings of peace into her mind with one hand and started to fix the damage with the other. Spinning threads of silver light between his fingers, he slowly attached the threads to each of the broken ribs and gave slight tugs. He administered a small sedative to the area to dull the pain and continued to maneuver the bones with careful dexterity. Deep breaths calmed wiry nerves. Intense focus weeded out doubt and emotion.

 

Each tug was another risk. If he pulled too hard, he could kill her by tearing her skin open. If he didn’t pull hard enough, he might overcompensate and risk the same damaging effects. Slow and steady was the aim. It was a thought that he internalized and repeated in his mind.

 

In the end, the procedure lasted only around ten minutes. But, to Roene, it felt like a lifetime of care. When the bones were in place, Roene administered additional force power to the region to help the broken pieces fuse together. Then, when they were attached at a basic level, he adjusted them a little and kept adding power until he felt confident that the patient would heal well enough on their own. He nodded to the doctor when he was finished and made to move down the line to the next patient when he was approached and greeted by officials.

 

"Commissioner E'lann of CoreSec. Thank you for your assistance, Master Jedi.” The Echani approached, clearly troubled by something. The man wore his emotions on his sleeve and held very little to his chest. But that was none of Roene’s business. He stuck his hand out to shake and Roene mirrored the gesture in kind. He’d been around human’s long enough to understand their traditional greeting.

 

The Cerean nodded his head with a wide smile. He exuded feelings of comfort and peace. And when the shake was concluded, Roene bowed deeper. “You are welcome, commissioner. Good luck on your travels. A shame that these men and women suffered, but all should be well soon.” He looked at the woman trailing behind him and bowed to her as well.

 

“I am Jedi Knight Roene Givrah. I was here on another mission and felt my assistance would prove useful. Thank you for your patience and hospitality.” Roene finished. With another smile, Roene turned back to the patients and continued to work.

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Master Tares, her mother, and Celedon had been unconscious for most of the journey back through silent space, leaving Tirzah to watch the bumbling medical droid trying to stabilize them and repeatedly informing her that such injuries were too severe to be handled in the ship's limited surgery. Upon arrival, then, Atlas had summoned a speeder to take them to the hospital. But there was smoke on the horizon as they sped through Coronet. The bodies that had been carted through the double doors of the emergency facility at Tyrena Medical Center were horrific, some of them mangled nearly beyond recognition even to her dim and wispy vision. As they had been waiting in this sterilized lobby, she had caught snippets of conversation centered around some kind of explosion, and even one Zabrak nurse who she had overheard saying "Coronet General is full, these are transfers".

 

What had happened on Corellia in the few short days they'd been away?

 

The Codru-Ji orderly peered over the front desk to stare down her long nose at Tirzah. "Start over for me, at the beginning, and tell me what happened, little one."

 

The girl's face fell, her eyes glassy with tears and shock and fatigue. Turning, she gestured to the trio of hoverstretchers floating behind her, swaying under the weight of her own body. "Shot... burned... gone," she said, somewhere in the back of her mind frustrated by the awareness that her words were making no sense.

 

A moment later, her face contorted and she retched, vomiting on the floor in front of the desk before everything went black.

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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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"Perhaps, we are beginning to understand one another, Master Organa."

 

Skye inclined her head, “Perhaps indeed, Commissioner.” The Jedi Healer followed him through the triage area, seeing the Cerean at the same time as Tenebris. "Commissioner E'lann of CoreSec. Thank you for your assistance, Master Jedi." Skye smiled at Tenebris, it seemed she was having a positive influence on him. He hadn’t used his sarcasm for a while now and she welcomed the change in his perspective of Jedi.

 

“You are welcome, commissioner. Good luck on your travels. A shame that these men and women suffered, but all should be well soon.” He looked at the woman trailing behind him and bowed to her as well. “I am Jedi Knight Roene Givrah. I was here on another mission and felt my assistance would prove useful. Thank you for your patience and hospitality.”

 

“Well met Knight Givrah, a shame it can’t be under better circumstances. I am Healer Master Skye Organa. I would appreciate if you could continue to oversee the triage area until all of the patients have been transferred to a hospital. We have to follow a new lead in our investigation. I’m unsure if you have heard or not, though this attack was instigated by Faust. It seems he is still around and not as dead as we thought he was.”

 

As Roene went back to his patients Skye turned back to Tenebris, "I'll check my ship and see if everyone has been transferred or how close they are to being so. You are welcome to come along if you wish." Skye added the latter since Tenebris hadn't seen the interior of her ship as yet. As they entered through the hold, the automatic decontamination scan halted them only for a moment before they had access into the hold proper. I-Nine spotted her straight away, Flitter hovering over to begin a stocktake of what had been used. “How is the transfer going I-Nine?” The protocol droid indicated the four patients still in the beds of the ward, “These four will be transferred as soon as the air ambulances arrive. They will be here soon, Master.” Skye nodded before telling her droid, “We will need to leave for Onderon as soon as they have been transferred. I’ll go with Commissioner Tenebris and you can restock Serenity and wait for my call. I’ll rejoin you once we have completed the mission unless I need you.” Turning to Tenebris she added, “I’ll just pack and I’ll be back.” As she left the hold the ambulances arrived, the teams coming in to retrieve the rest of the patients. It didn’t take her long to pack a bag, adding a large medkit and a few other items that might be needed. If necessary she would call I-Nine to bring her ship if the need arose. She returned to the hold seeing the last of the patients being taken out. She gave her droids some additional instructions before she turned to Tenebris, “Ready when you are.”

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Without any additional ado, Tenebris led the way back to the Raisonneur, the YE-4 gunship having been refueled and restocked with necessary supplies. Corporal Mithwyr, the pilot, saluted him and fell into step as he made his way up the landing ramp.

 

"Hey, Sarge," he began, but Tenebris held up a hand to interrupt him upon entry.

 

"It's Commissioner, now, Corporal. It seems, unfortunately, like our would-be terrorist picked a strategic time to blast headquarters sky-high."

 

If the Zabrak was startled by the news of such a promotion, he did not show it. Gesturing to the room adjacent to Lux's, Tenebris turned to Skye, pausing his conversation with his subordinate.

 

"Master, these are your quarters. I expect they will prove suitable. If you need anything, you have my comm." With a respectful nod, he turned on his heel and continued moving through the ship to the bridge.

 

"As soon as the ship is ready, get us out of here," he commanded Mithwyr. "I have already informed the appropriate personnel of my destination."

 

Or at least, some of the appropriate personnel...

 

"Faust" was a name he had hoped to never include in an official communique since the man's apparent death six months prior. But nevertheless, it appeared as though it would be time to contact the appropriate authorities within the Alliance.

 

But there would be time enough for that when they arrived on Onderon. Until then, he would retreat to the captain's cabin, mull over all this new information, craft strategies for their incursion into the sordid past of General Vaklu, and figure out what the kriff he was expected to do.

 

There was no one to ask for orders. For the first time, Tenebris found himself conflicted about the correct course of action.

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Muffled voices. Who?

 

Slits of hazel-green appeared. Lights too bright. They retreated back underground, relegated to hot-pink shade.

 

Dusty, dirty ground, heavy robes, a pulsing rhythm she could not exorcise from her mind.

 

Satisfying crunch of metal, sputtering drippings smothering breathing permacrete rising reign of fire rasping breath ringing ears

 

Black.

 

Intoxicating cologne of velanie flowers, clammy pale heartbeat, waxing and waning of the bronchial tide. Don't leave me alone here, you're all I have now.

 

"IT'S NOT HIM."

 

Ringing, ringing, ringing, tumbling down the dark hole back to the endless jungle, chasing the kitterpat, jakrab leaving scars in its wake.

 

Ssurian's roar from the little girl's open mouth. "GET AWAY FROM HER!"

 

Trembling in his nearness, does he dare notice? Skin melts away in purifying conflagration until all that's left is raw beating heart, exposed and vulnerable, what she swore she would never be again.

 

Not to him.

 

If she is not his enemy, what is she? Better flee than find out.

 

Coward.

 

"I am proud to call you sister."

 

She is a Jedi Knight, or what's left of one. She is a sister, or what's left of one, her family's bodies crumbling into dust beneath burning Almanian wasteland. She is a wife, or what's left of one, covenant ripped in twain by sinister ignorance. She is a mother, or what's left of one, her infant daughter ripped away from her grasp, ripped away from childhood, ripped away from encasing love that could have shielded her from the hardened heart that finds everyone eventually

 

because it is work to stay soft.

 

Sudden flashes of light jolted her out of her thoughts. It was all too confusing. How could she reconcile the aftermath of such a hopeless journey?

 

Adi-Wan's voice, distorted tremolo across forgotten years of memory. "In all the confusion, you must keep your mind clear."

 

Clarity. That was the trick. Haunted by the ghosts of her past, she could never be clear.

 

Clear. Clear. Clear.

 

"CLEAR!"

 

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

 

Jaina lay in the quietude of her hospital room, Corellian countryside out her window, the darkness of her countenance echoed in her grim mood. Their task had been an utter failure. She had pushed Tares to his search, and now he swam in bacta across the hall, unresponsive, feeling through the Force like a shell of the bright silver sun he had been. Tirzah was safe, her dehydration and shock treated by caring and grieved medical personnel, slumbering in the bed that shared Jaina's room, the curtain removing her from sight but not from senses. Celedon was across the hall with Tares, or so they'd told her.

 

For the first time since her arrival in Tyrena, Jaina was sitting up in bed, allowed to eat some gelatinous substance artificially colored to be as brightly violet as her saber. It utterly failed to tempt her appetite. Forlorn, she passed the hours breathing, listening, praying to the Force that Tares would reappear in all his strength to her senses.

 

The only interruption came with the arrival of a Selonian nurse who brought in her comlink. "We found this among your things, and figured you could use the down time getting caught up. No Holonet service in the Unknown Regions, huh?"

 

The jest fell flat, and Jaina refused to acknowledge it, even as the Selonian's face fell as he backed out of the room. She held her comlink limply in her hand. Maybe it was better not to be tied to the outside world. Simpler to disappear inside herself.

 

But those were not the actions of a Jedi Knight. She could be stronger than that. She had to be. For Tirzah's sake, if not for her own.

 

With a slow exhale, she flicked her comlink to life, and the data alerts came streaming in.

 

Carida. "We do not comply." Coronet, and the smoking remains of CoreSec Headquarters. Whispers of the name Faust. More messages from Delta, advances she was halfway tempted to comply with because of the gaping wound of self-loathing that had been carved into her equilibrium like the blast to her abdomen. And one final missive that she was most apprehensive to acknowledge: a voice message from Emily.

 

Jaina's heart had been shattered at the loss of Tirzah; ground into dust at the loss of Andon. When she listened to Emily's message, her glass-dust heart became a cyclone, scattering its pieces to the wind, the crescendo in the final movement of her emotional fragmentation.

 

Too exhausted to cry, too broken to adequately feel, she simply thumbed the comlink off, set it quietly on her bedside table, and stared out the window into malapropos summer sunset, her face a statuesque masterpiece of hollow agony.

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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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Distant pounding of two sets of padded feet. Who?

 

A warm, sticky object on the side of his face? And growls?

 

Something touches his torso, skittering about. Small hands?

 

He struggles to open his eyes, greeted by blinding, dizzying light.

 

Three shapes hovering over him, shapes he cannot coalesce with memories.

 

A panicked voice, yelling? No, not at him. Another voice… distant. Mechanical?

 

A conversation; one he’s not a part of he manages to understand.

 

I’ll just rest then... the thought comes forward with the darkness.

 

A distant feeling of being moved, jostled. Another impact across his entire body. More yelling? Closer this time. But its more comfortable here he decides.

 

But now the comfortable darkness is warm, inviting. He decides to embrace it, to fall asleep within it. This isn’t so bad…

 

A faint buzzing, like an insect at his ear.

 

Dreams. Things he knows he recognizes but cannot quite place. Large stone structures that give him a sense of pride. Faces that are muddled, but bring feelings of family, friendship and purpose. But there... faces he can see. A tall slender man with white hair, standing almost regally regarding him. A woman with fire red hair, standing next to him, her arm hooked through the man’s, with a coy smile as her eyes shift back and forth between the two. They stand out among the crowd of faces, of people he should know.

 

More movement, pushing back the warm darkness.

 

Another dream, or is it the same dream? Less people, less faces. A smaller figure, a teenager maybe? Skinny, but with dark brown hair, looking afraid back at him before two masses flank her and morph into hulking beasts, one white, one black. All three seem to be worried...

 

Even more voices, repetitive flashes of light. Wonder what everyone’s so worried about. he thinks sleepily.

 

A new dream. Darker, filled with anger and broken ground, leading to a faraway cliff overlooking fire. Only one shape this time; tall, with long black hair. A woman, one who has turned her back to him, walking to the edge of the cliff, holding something in front of her, as if she is about to let it fall into the depths of the fire below. He cannot see her face… yet he knows her? That uncertainty bleeds into certainty of another kind; she forced him away; a choice had to be made.

 

Something pokes his arm, a new facet of the pain that is still there, that never seemed to go away.

 

Another dream? No, this one feels different than the others. He can see more; Details, objects. He understands more. A quiet room, painted comforting shades of white and cream, with a large window on one side. A view of countryside outside? But no, that’s not the focus. There’s a bed; a hospital bed maybe? A woman laying within, but sitting up, turned to look out the window. Deep chestnut brown hair splayed out over her shoulders. He can see… wait, he can feel … she is sad; upset, defeated. She is lost? She does not face him ever, not like the others. He doesn’t exist in this dream?

 

A smaller hand on his hand, a gentle pressure of a squeeze. The faintest whisper of words; You have to be okay...

 

The same dream again this time. The woman in the bed, turning to face a new figure that enters the room, a Selonian. A nurse? The nurse hands her something, speaks to her. But he cannot hear their voices, though she does not answer? The object; he can see it now in detail. A commlink that she turns on. And then he hears. Names of locations he knows. Reports of destruction. And one name that feels recent, yet is burned in, past the comfortable warm darkness; Faust. The name pulls at the warm darkness more than anything else, but is swept away quickly by a wave of emotion. His emotions? No… hers. Stronger than before. Her anguish, her sadness, her loss He struggles to keep up, realizes he feels more than her emotions. He can feel her pain; physical and mental. But its… familiar? He knows the pain… it’s been part of what he has felt the entire time. Even before…

 

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

 

Raynuk startles back to consciousness, and it takes a good three seconds before his mental capacity to grasp the situation catches up with him. He is lying in a hospital bed, much like the woman in his dream.

 

Jaina.

 

He knows now it was her. She was -- No. she is still he decides – in a hospital bed too, and she is nearby. She is on Corellia too. And just like that, all the pieces collapsed into place. He had been heading to Corellia to follow the lead Faust had offered up to him. But the closer he got to the planet, the more pain he felt, pain that didn’t match his own injuries suffered on Dathomir, which wore on his mental capacity to fight off his own injuries, until it was too much for him to handle. It was phantom pain that was Jaina’s. It was pain she felt; it was injuries she had suffered. And now he had ended up in a hospital as well, an IV sticking out of his arm.

 

Much like Jaina in his vision, he was propped up in his hospital bed, although he was not fortunate enough to have been given a room with as nice of a view as she had been; his window merely looked across a small plaza at another tower on Corellia. What he did see however, was that Raia was sleeping, half curled up in a chair that had been pulled right up against his bed. Her head was resting on his bed by his hand, with one arm acting as a makeshift pillow, while her other hand had found its way under his own.

 

He spent a moment, pulled back from the visions he had in the wake of his collapse, and just watched Raia. The poor girl apparently couldn’t catch a break, going from one scare to another. He wanted to let her sleep, but knew the second she sensed movement from him she would wake up. Thankfully, he didn’t necessarily need to move. Spotting a medical chart hanging at the foot of his bed, he reached out with the Force and pulled it clear of its hook, and floated it closer. The next few minutes were spent attempting to make sense of the chart itself. He was not exactly a medical doctor, but managed to get a fair amount of information from the chart regardless.

 

Raynuk had been admitted to Tyrena Medical Center fourteen hours ago, under the name Ezra Montar. The use of Raynuk’s long dead older brother’s name was enough to confirm that 2-VSH had enacted one of the protocols Raynuk had given the droid; masking his identity. But the chart also had a name listed under ‘next of kin’;

 

Raia Montar.

 

Apparently, the teenager had taken Raynuk’s last name as her own, if for only to ensure she was able to stay at his side, which caused a small smile that he couldn’t quite hide; she was at least quick thinking. He continued to examine the chart further, finding that when he was brought in he had been diagnosed with something called “Glomerulonephritis”, a medical term that even Raynuk was not going to attempt to say out loud, among other things; Bruised ribs and several contusions among them. The long, unwieldly word was circled several times, but then underneath it was “Third?!”. While he tried to think of what that meant, he continued examining the chart and came to another series of notes scrawled in what could only be a doctor’s handwriting.

 

--confirmed presence of secondary lateral kidney; case forwarded to specialist

--Emergency Simple nephrectomy performed successfully

--no sign of natural occurrence; secondary organ not efficiently tied to human renal system

--patient showed signs of recent lateral abdominal trauma and healing (accelerated?)

--case files copied for future study

--kidney forwarded to donor pool per patient’s medical wishes

--Patient sent to recovery

--Question once awake

 

It was mostly gibberish to Raynuk, but it was hard to miss the mention of a ‘secondary lateral kidney’, which he guessed he had Raia to thank for as well. The dull pain at his side spoke to the emergency surgery he had been given in an attempt to rectify the problem, and given that Raynuk was now conscious and aware, it had apparently been successful, even though he still felt like he had been hit by a speeder.

 

A few more minutes of looking over the chart revealed little more to Raynuk, who eventually decided to put the chart back, using the Force again, and then gently shook the hand that Raia had wormed under his own.

 

“Hey, I hope you’re not planning on sleeping forever; someone needs to tell me what the hell happened.”

 

At the same time, Raynuk couldn't help but stretch his consciousness outward, seeking the other presence he was sure to find in the area.

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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((Suggested Listening))

 

Weightless, she floated in a silent sea, the only sound her own breathing. Curled up, the motherly embrace of her womb-like surroundings warded off her pain. Subtly, rolling waves in her haven jostled her to and fro, and she consented to be rocked to sleep.

 

Here, in her watery home, the only thing visible the red of her own eyelids, she could at last forget.

 

A slow and gentle caress, whispered reassurances, all-too-knowing eyes, a thumb against her cheek, brushing away liquid evidence that yes, she can still feel.

 

Modināt.

 

As if in response to the command, Jaina's eyes snapped open. A scene in watercolor swam before her eyes, and the weightlessness did not abate with consciousness. Was she yet in a dream? No, she could not be.

 

Dreamless sleep did not retain the painful memories that now assailed her.

 

Tares' last whisper to her mind--her name--haunted her. He still had not awakened and gave no indication to his caretakers that he ever would: locked in a netherworld of his mind absent the touch of the Force. Emily's face, scarlet and pained, swam before her mind's eye. For a brief shining moment, she had been relieved that Emily held no ill-will towards her, and she wondered if taking such a hasty leave of her niece's company had caused more problems than it had solved. Then they began to wash over her: waves of words, red-hot as lava, searing agony carving a deeper wound than the blackened kisses from a blaster that marred her skin ever could. Pregnant... Raynuk... I don't have anyone else... Please don't tell him... I can't do it alone... Please... Help me...

 

The harder she tried to burn the thoughts from her mind, the more Jaina's sense of anger and injustice rose. The harder she tried to gain control of her thoughts, the more they festered in her belly.

 

Why was Emily allowed this shining chance at motherhood of which Jaina herself had been robbed? Unstable as they were, the timbre of her relationship with Raynuk would prove a disastrous environment for raising a child, especially if, as Jaina inferred from Emily's teary message, they had already gone their separate ways. Part of her knew she had a promise to keep to Sirvani, and the Jedi way would be to put her own feelings aside in order to comfort and support her niece.

 

But Jaina was not all Jedi, and this level of injustice could not be borne. So the appointed time window that Emily had given had come and gone, and Jaina could not bring herself to reach out to her niece at all. Instead, she found herself floating in a womb of her own, nearly as naked as an unborn child except for the barest coverings. Bacta cleansed the third-degree burns on her leg that rendered her unable to walk, the searing infection in her arm, the surgical scar in her abdomen where they had removed the kidney that had necrotized as a result of being shot. But while her body outwardly convalesced, inwardly, a blackened grief, coated in acidic jealousy, ate away at her fire and resolve.

 

So she hung, seemingly endlessly, in the little world of her own, biding her time, hoping that when she recovered enough to leave this place that she knew something about where she was going.

 

You must finish what you have begun...

 

The ghostly whisper echoed through her mind again, a presence she knew too well and not at all reaching for her, and a spiral of images took her out of herself.

 

Decrepit creatures in a jungle valley, charging at her with bared teeth. The brilliant blaze of an orange saber. Collapsing to the ground on a ship whose deck was sparkling new and startlingly familiar. Small fingers in her own. Raynuk, lying in her hospital bed.

 

Wait, her hospital bed?

 

Once again her mind became her own, and Jaina's face drained of blood, ashen and pale. No, not hers, his own. He was here. And he already knew that she was too.

 

Her mood grew even darker, the mounting weight of the secret she carried like a millstone tied around her soul, numbness threatening to overcome her completely as a tiny tendril of tenderness whispered reminders to stay soft.

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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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Breathlessly, Tirzah waited outside of the operating room. After her mother's latest dip in bacta, the chipper Selonian nurse had returned with fortuitous tidings as Tirzah slurped down both her own and her mother's violet gelatin meal replacement.

 

"Good news," he chattered. "A kidney has just become available from a donor here at Tyrena, and it's a match!"

 

They had promptly wheeled her away into the operating theater with barely a second glance at Tirzah. Hurriedly, she tossed her extra blanket around her shoulders, grabbed the pole that held the bag of saline dripping into her veins, and tottered down the hall after them. When she had been discovered, the nurse made to send her back to her room, but a withering scowl seemed to melt his resolve, and he instead brought her a chair and sat her just outside the window--though so far, she had not been able to get an adequate glimpse of the proceedings within. Now, all there was left to do was wait.

 

Her worries seemed to forget the passage of time. It could have been minutes or hours, she wouldn't know, but eventually, Jaina's limp body on a hovercart made its way past her, charging back toward the bacta laboratory. The surgeon, directed by the Selonian who pushed the hovercart, stopped to address her as he exited the operating room.

 

"All finished, mostly routine. We removed some damaged tissue around her wound, and she'll probably carry a scar, but it looks as though her body's going to take to that new kidney just fine. A nice long soak in bacta helps with the organ adoption."

 

She nodded, wordless, her face impassive as she absorbed the information. His professional demeanor cracked just slightly as he leaned down toward her in some display of empathy, and she felt a flash of resentment at his condescending tone. "Hey kid, feel free to take a walk around, okay? You've been through a lot, and some fresh air might do you good."

 

Nodding again, she wrapped her hand around the pole and silently, obediently, her feet began to move through the hallways.

 

Before long, she found herself standing at the bedside of the still-immobile Tares, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Pulsing monitors sounded in her ears, a sure sign that while he was alive, he was not well. As she opened her senses, he still did not feel like should in the Force or shine to her vision as she was accustomed. She put her small hand on his and gave it a delicate squeeze before ducking back out into the hallway.

 

Something nagged at the back of her senses as she had reached into the Force, something utterly and strangely familiar. For the first time since arriving back on Corellia, Tirzah's curiosity outranked her melancholy apathy. Wandering the halls, her white blanket and hospital gown gave her an eerie resemblance to some kind of pale ghost. Following the curve of a ramp down the adjacent wing and two floors down, she finally recalled the face that attached to that particular presence lingering in her mind.

 

It was the dormouse-girl, Raia, with whom she had gotten lost inside their minds. But what was she doing here? Jaina had said that Xae would take care of her. Was she hurt because they left her behind with the Sith? Her padded footsteps quickened down the hallway; her resolve bolstered, and as she locked on to Raia's presence in her mind, the Force bade her halt outside a door marked 327.

 

Clinging onto her IV pole with one hand, with the other, she reached out and rapped her small knuckles four times on the closed door.

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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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As the next patient passed through Roene’s rudimentary inspection, a small feeling flicked the edge of his nose. The Cerean looked around, trying to decipher the source of the queer sensation, but nothing registered as a probable candidate. He attempted to forget about the feeling and return to his work, but just as his weathered hands moved to complete yet another treatment, the flick returned. It was stronger this time. And he began to realize that his quandary was within the force, not a mundane twitch or gesticulation.

 

Roene bowed gently to the nurses that took his patient away. They loaded the stretcher onto a shuttle bound for Tyrena and Roene saw to their safety before they were transported. But, something wasn’t right. He opened his mind to the world around him and immediately felt a strong sensation shoot through his leg and his abdomen. It was foreign. The sensations weren’t real. They didn’t belong to him. But they belonged to a powerful surge in force energy. Shining on the horizon, the surge of power peered out to him from where it was. It seemed a perplexing ambiguous mishmash, and Roene couldn’t decipher the energy's purpose or pinpoint its precise origin. All he found, was a confusing problem, and he resigned himself to the curiosity it wrought.

 

Normally, Roene would let something like this go, but with the aftermath of tragedy tugging at his coattails, he felt it necessary to investigate this conundrum lest this tragedy continue. Looking through his mind’s eye, he saw that the foreign energy came from the west; the same direction his patients were headed. The Cerean cursed inwardly and shook his head. He was obligated now. He promised Skye that he would overlook the safety of these patients as they were transferred. And if this mysterious energy was the culprit, he owed it to them to find it and prevent further problems.

 

The Jedi walked over to a few officers that were still handling the cleanup and asked them to deliver a message to a woman named Joelle if she should show up and assist with the relief effort. They looked at him like he was crazy, but he continued anyway and hitched a ride to Tyrena via a medical shuttle. He cited a medical supervisory reason and used his menial influence as a Jedi to secure passage. It was a tiny abuse of power he didn’t know he had, but he documented his guilt for later and would deal with that when he found the time.

 

Mentally, Roene projected a message to Joelle before leaving Coronet proper:

 

Joelle, this is Roene, I am on my way to Tyrena. I have sensed a strange disturbance in the force and wish to investigate before it risks becoming something serious. If you wish to join me there, you are more than welcome to do so. If you wish to stay in Coronet and meet at the meadow as planned, I might be a little late.

 

Roene’s mind clouded with uncertainty. He knew little about the path ahead. Even when the shuttle landed and he was escorted into the lobby, he wasn’t sure what to expect. The power was strongest here, but he couldn’t possibly see why. Was it evil? Was it good? Was the energy even entombed by the limited knowledge that mortals held of morality? Was it just ambiguous?

 

Roene approached the main desk in the Tyrena Medical Center. He smiled a genuine smile and exuded sensations of peace and calm. He cleared his throat and bowed a little to the orderly. “Hello, my name is Kro’Roene’Givrah. I don’t know exactly how to phrase this, but I have a feeling something bad might happen and would like to investigate the hospital. Would that be entirely possible?”

 

The orderly was receptive to his smile, but his question drew a rather indifferent expression from the older bothan that sat behind the front desk. “Ummm… Do you have a badge? Are you official medical personnel?” She said, skeptically.

 

Roene stammered a little, realizing his folly, but also realizing it was too late to back out of it. “No, no, merely a concerned observer.”

 

“Then,” she responded with a sigh. “I’m afraid I can’t let you into the hospital. Unless you are a patient, medical personnel, approved relatives, CoreSec or CorSec, we can’t let you proceed.”

 

Roene’s smile weakened, but he felt that halting his search for the moment was more conducive than persisting. “Do you mind if I sit in the lobby a while? I have some acquaintances in the hospital that I would like to wait for.”

 

Instead of an answer, the Bothan nodded her head at a chair as if to say, ‘Sure.’ Then she wandered off to file some paperwork away in the back.

 

The Cerean went over to a group of chairs and sat on the floor amidst them. He let his arms rest on his knees and he looked at the surge in the force with perplexed amazement. It was huge and unlike anything he had ever seen before. That alone drew his attention, but what did it all mean? Why was it here?

 

The Cerean held his mind open and tried to explore each possibility, keeping his thoughts objective and observational. He took mental notes and paced around through the force, trying to ascertain what this presence was.

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Raia unbuckled herself as soon as the jolt indicating the ship touched down occurred and heard the tell-tale sound of Raynuk’s droid coming to the medical bay to collect him.

 

<>

 

The droid picked up Raynuk as though the Sith were nothing more than a bag of parts, and slung the man over the droid’s shoulder, then turned and exited the medical bay, and crossed the lounge to descend to the lower level. It was there that the droid’s movement was halted by both of the tuk’atas, which looked at him curiously; it did have their master slung over its shoulder.

 

<> 2V attempted to order the tuk’atas, to no effect. There was a mechanical mixture of a sigh and a groan before the tall droid turned to Raia.

 

<>

 

Raia took a deep breath of her own and moved forward to the great beasts, placing a gentle hand on each of their snouts as she spoke, “You’re job is to protect us, right? You were raised as guardians.” Tentatively she reached out to them with the Force as she’d felt both Emily and Raynuk do and felt their grudging acknowledgment.

 

“Then you must stay here. I sense...” Raia paused and glanced at 2V who merely blinked his photoreceptors at her, “...I sense that Master Raynuk would say the same if things were switched. I promise I will be his guardian where you cannot. I don’t want to lose him either, and we’re wasting time.” She drew herself up and said with far more confidence and authority than she felt, “Now move.”

 

Their warm breath as they both snorted their displeasure tickled her hand, and for a moment she wondered if she’d overstepped with the dangerous mutant beasts. Roe’gall was the first to take a step back, then Vex followed his older brother’s lead and permitted the Raynuk-bearing 2V to pass with Raia at his side. The tuk’atas saw them safely off the ship. Raia cast a look back and saw them settle in to wait as the airlock doors secured the ship.

 

--------

While not as bustling as Coruscant had been, Corellia’s buzz of activity was still just as overwhelming as Raia stuck as close to 2V as possible, working her way through the crowd that almost readily parted for them as the droid pushed his way forward and into the emergency center of the building.

 

“Please sign in and we’ll be with you as soon as…” began a bored-looking woman with fluffed up auburn hair whose eyes widened at the sight of the massive droid bearing a limp body of a man once she finally glanced up from her holonovel. Quickly, she waved over one of the medical droids with a hover-sled for the patient before restarting. “No unauthorized droids. You may sign in here…”

 

Raia looked up at 2V in a panic, her Dathomiri accent growing thicker, “Authorize then. You have to help us. I need him...to... translate. Please.”

 

“If you need a translator droid,” the woman began, pushing up her glasses to the bridge of her nose and leaning across the counter to hunch over the girl, “one can be arranged. Now please leave the patient here and fill out these forms.”

 

“NO!” Raia stamped, earning several looks from those nearby including those from some of the on-duty CorSec unit. “He fell on the ship. You help him. Now! She hadn’t gone through everything on Dathomir and before to be stopped here and now, potentially losing Raynuk because of Force-knew-what. “You will fix him and the droid stays,” she hissed, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

 

The woman sat back in her chair slightly at the force of the girl’s statements and her eyes took on a glassy far-away look. “We can fix him,” she answered dully in her increasingly annoying nasally voice. She waved over one of the nurses who came over to see what was going on. “Your droid may stay to help with paperwork.”

 

That seemed to set the agitated teen somewhat at ease as she took Raynuk’s hand again once 2V had settled him on the stretcher. A male doctor with mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes came over and began checking his vital signs. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And what’s your relationship to Mister…” he prompted.

<> 2V interjected before Raia could answer.

 

Raia hid her confusion at the false name by pretending to look down at Raynuk in worry which prompted the doctor to inquire who she was again. “Raia...Montar. Daughter. My Basic is not good. He is a trader. He fell on the ship. You can help him?” Her Basic had been getting better, but something told her the more she played up the backwater trader persona, the easier things might go for them.

 

“Fine you can stay, but your droid has to go. He’s too big and in the way, understand?” He turned back to the readings and flicked the screen twice as though to jolt it into working properly. “Kriffing weird…” he muttered under his breath.

 

Raia looked up at 2V who’d efficiently completed the required paperwork to the nurse’s satisfaction who waved the droid back out the door. 2V took a few steps, then paused and turned back to place a comlink into Raia’s hand, before adding in Dathomiri, <

 

Raia clicked it on and back off again, and nodded. “She showed me before.”

 

Satisfied and likely feeling they’d already nearly attracted too much attention, 2V took one scanning glance around the waiting room, his photoreceptors coming back to fall on Raia. He gave her a small nod.

 

<> The droid said as he sauntered out the doors without so much as look back.

 

-------

 

Over the next hour Raia found herself peppered with question after question, more often than not shouted at her in slow and deliberate Basic, and even then she didn’t understand anything that was going on. They kept shunting her from the room to examine him, only to have one of the nurses come out and start questioning her again.

 

“Was he transporting anything dangerous?” The tall mousy-haired man asked again for, what seemed to Raia, the thousandth time. She stared back up at him defiantly. At some point, he had told Raia his name, but things being as hectic as they were, she hadn’t been listening.

 

“No.”

 

“Has he had any recent surgeries, possibly unlicensed or registered?”

 

Raia shook her head, frustrated to the point of tears with the staff and herself for not being able to help more.

 

“Doctor Janspear!” a voice called sharply from down the hall. Raia looked past the jerk of a doctor to see a woman just passed middle age with blonde hair standing in the midst of the hallway, the look of a mother that had just caught her child doing something against her wishes on her face.

 

“Give the kid a break. Didn’t you see in the chart she needs a translator droid?” the woman said, starting to walk toward Raia and this ‘doctor.' "That’s her dad in there, and she’s probably scared out of her wits, and you’re not helping a lick. Leave her to me, and you get back to your patient where you might actually do him more good than his daughter.”

 

He looked down at Raia one last time and shook his head before turning to the other woman. “If she even is his daughter. Can’t get much of anything out of her. Something’s not right, and I’d place bets that whatever he’s mixed in, it’s illegal. You should see some of his recent injuries. Not the kind you’d find on legal supply runs if you catch my drift.”

 

He thumbed over his shoulder at the girl standing behind him. “Look, Nurse Smith, the kid has tattoos, doesn’t speak Basic, seems especially wary of us, and doesn’t know anything about his medical history and won’t answer how he got those injuries in the first place. How do we know this isn’t a trafficking situation?”

 

“And if it is that, you think she can’t understand you? Or that you’ll be able to help her if you scare her even more?” Nurse Smith interjected as she crossed her arms, fully prepared to stand her ground with the doctor on this. “If you feel your capacity to treat this patient has been compromised on the mere appearance of things and how you wish to shape them, then maybe you should continue on your rounds and I can find another more professional doctor to take over this case.”

 

They were speaking far too quickly for Raia to follow everything that was being said, but she could easily catch the tone. “Please...He is all I have. Don’t let him die.”

 

That, at least, pulled the attention of the nurse, who suddenly turned to look at Raia entirely, her face suddenly losing all the rigid determination she had been using against the doctor. She pushed past Doctor Janspear, almost purposely elbowing him aside as she stooped down a little to look Raia in the eyes, her hands on her knees to support her.

 

“Hey, hey… Don't worry. We’re going to do absolutely everything we can to make sure your dad is okay. I promise.” she said, sounding much kinder to Raia than she had been before.

 

Doctor Janspear shook his head and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I’m done. His readings don’t make sense. Someone else can handle him once his labs and tests are back.”

 

Raia and Nurse Smith watched the doctor walk away, and then once he was a safe distance away, the nurse turned back to Raia.

 

“Raia, right? I’m Nurse Smith.” the woman said, extending a hand to the girl with a smile. “We have to wait for some tests to come back, but then we’ll have a better idea of what is going on with your dad okay? I’ll stay with you until we know more, all right? In the meantime, do you need anything? Are you hungry or thirsty?”

 

Raia nodded and tried to ignore that the tattoo had tried to make trouble for her once again. “I don’t want him,” she answered solemnly. “Not allowed.”

 

“He’s not helping us with your dad anymore. I promise. Let’s get you a snack though,” She extended her hand toward Raia.

 

“Not far?” She asked.

 

“Not far,” Nurse Smith promised, pointing to the nurse’s station just a few meters down the corridor. Finally, Raia took her hand, and the two of them walked down the hall together.

 

“You do understand Basic better than you can speak it, can’t you?” the elder woman asked gently.

 

Raia nodded again, surprised to find comfort in this woman’s presence, “He is not bad. He is good. He is all I have.”

 

-----------

 

Nurse Smith had done as promised and stayed with Raia once it was identified that Mr. Montar had somehow grown an extra kidney and was now being taken into surgery. Though she’d been reluctant to allow it when the girl had asked to watch the surgery, she’d finally relented only on the condition that Raia stay with her in the observation room.

 

Throughout the surgical process, it had surprised Nurse Smith that the girl didn’t flinch as the surgeons worked her father to remove the extraneous organ. She only stood there, unmoving except for the quiet, purposeful muttering in whatever language was her native tongue, almost as though the girl were praying to whatever greater power she believed in that he would come through the surgery alright.

 

It endeared her to the young lady and made Nurse Smith want to ensure that everything turned out okay. She already knew this was going to be one of those cases in which she was going to take a personal interest in.

 

Once Mr. Montar was moved to recovery, she walked the girl to the room, and did her best to point out directions and signs along the way of places and things Raia might need; the cafeteria, the snack machines, and tried to show her how to find her way back to her dad’s room.

 

“See there? That sign tells us that rooms 301 through 350 are down this way, and 351 through 399 are that way. Your dad is going to be in room 327. Got that?” she asked, turning to Raia as they walked to ensure the girl understood.

 

Once again Raia nodded, then, after a moment, repeated the number, and then nodded again. “Three. Two. Seven.”

 

They continued walking down the hallway until they got to room 327. Nurse Smith pointed at the small plaque with the room number by the door and smiled, and for the first time all day caught the faintest glimpse and ghost of a smile cross the girl’s face before it disappeared and Raia’s eyes fell to the floor.

 

Nurse Smith opened the door, revealing the room inside, which was darker than the brightly lit hallway, and beckoned for Raia to enter. But the girl looked into the room and then suddenly backed up a few steps, shaking her head rapidly, her hands balled into tight fists.

 

This was something she’d done; the result of her wild healing Force use on Dathomir. People were only supposed to have two kidneys and she’d given Raynuk three. She was the reason he was hurting.

 

“Hey, hey…” Nurse Smith said softly, reaching her free hand towards the girl. “It’s okay. There's nothing to be afraid of. You saw the surgery, he’s just sleeping okay? I’ll come in with you and make sure everything is good.”

 

Slowly, Raia’s hands unclenched, and then one arm lifted up and took Nurse Smith’s hand.

 

“There’s a brave girl.” She guided Raia into the room, a gentle hand on the teenager’s shoulder, urging her forward until they reached the bed that her father was sleeping in. The teenager seemed transfixed on the sleeping form, and Nurse Smith took that opportunity to pull the chair out from against the wall, and slide it up next to the bed next to Raia, then crossed the room to one of the cabinets and pulled out a white blanket and a pillow, which she brought back and placed on the chair.

 

“He should be awake soon okay? You can stay here until he wakes up. Here’s a pillow and a blanket if you get cold okay?” She said to Raia, whose eyes still seemed locked on the sleeping form of Mr. Montar. It took another hand on the girl’s shoulder to get Raia to focus on her again.

 

“I have to go check on my other patients okay? But I promise; I’ll come back and make sure you and your dad are okay. Just hang tight,” she smiled lightly at Raia.

 

Before she could leave, however, the girl quickly embraced her muttering a quick “thank you” before curling up in the chair at the side of his bed. As Nurse Smith left and closed the door behind her, she took one last look at the teenager, silently wondering if everything was going to be okay with her and her father.

 

---------

“Hey, I hope you’re not planning on sleeping forever; someone needs to tell me what the hell happened.”

 

Raia stirred slightly, her arm having long ago lost feeling. Her body was quick to remind her as the sharp prickles of what felt like a thousand stabbing needles began to run their way back up her arm. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

 

She looked at him, frowning as she tried to get used to his new look. Her mouth opened and she was just about to answer when a soft knock came from the door. “That must be Nurse Smith. She can explain better than I can.”

 

Rising from his bedside, she crossed the short distance to the door and opened it, then stepped back in shock. “Tirzah?!”

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Impulsively, Tirzah flung her arms around the other girl, letting her blanket fall to the ground. "You're safe!" she said immediately. "I was worried..."

 

But she trailed off when she realized something: there was another injured presence inside that was equally familiar to her. Master Quietus was lying in a hospital bed on the far side of the room. While she had grown somewhat accustomed to the feeling of sick and injured people to her senses, her mother and Raynuk seemed to be especially aswirl with something she could not manage to describe. There were no words for the confusion, pain, and darkness that ran through the Force when she reached out to either of them.

 

"Are you okay, Raia? My mom said that Xae was taking care of you," she said as she stooped to pick up the blanket again, feeling the chill around her ankles. Peering around the other girl to where she could sense Master Quietus' presence on the other side, she asked in a much smaller voice, "What happened to you, Master Quietus?"

 

She hesitated a moment before adding her last question, remembering the brief exposition she had been given on the identity of the furious, spitting woman when she emerged from the shared Force-dream. But curiosity once again got the better of her. "Where is my cousin Emily?"

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

May the Forth therve you well...

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The icy off-white tile floor that bled through the simple cloth of his robes, bit softly at Roene’s skin. The air handling system that rocked to life, vented slow dry air five feet from his head. The ruckus of overwhelming activity that resulted from patient oversaturation, assaulted Roene’s ears and barreled through the hospital. But they were buzzing flies. Their influence was passing and the Cerean paid very little mind to the mundane stimuli that threatened the serenity of his meditation.

 

His legs were crossed, his robe set out behind him, and his hands rested gently on his knees. The light movement of air shuffled the inert forms of his white beard and hair but otherwise failed to move any light fabric that the Cerean wore. His posture was granite and the weight of his full robes didn’t seem to register. The thick clothing that layered his shoulders with earthy hues, stood out from the vibrant whites of the hospital atmosphere and lay around the Jedi like a pool of mud. Yet, despite the odd juxtaposition, if you didn’t look directly at him, the Cerean stood out about as much as the waiting room furniture…

 

…Because his presence wasn’t wholly there. The Cerean’s consciousness ‘stood’ twenty feet away and marveled at an anomaly of unknown design. The force glittered in streams and rivers of brilliant azure light all around him, but this energy glowed different than the rest. It was a bond, of that Roene was certain. It was a very strong bond between two disparate individuals. However, these individuals were weakened, guarded and directionless. It gave an ambling color to the mystifying energy that Roene marveled over. The Jedi couldn’t tell who the individuals were that gave power to such a perplexing manifestation, but he could tell that the bond itself was stronger than any other bond he had ever seen; so much so, that the bond seemed unnatural.

 

It stood like a massive opalescent ribbon, binding two foundational pieces together. When Roene had first seen it, the structure seemed somewhat mundane. But, after Roene probed it, he found the second layer. The ribbon drew closer, revealing an intricate tapestry with complex threadwork. The spindly filaments were kept so close to one another that the Cerean had to concentrate very hard to find each piece. And even when he divined one piece and its origin, it flew right into another and grew even more complicated. The process was mind-bendingly monotonous, but it was something Roene had never seen before and his curiosity far outweighed any and all frustration. Plus, Cereans had two minds to bend. So, when one mind was exhausted, the other could pick up where it left off.

 

He was fast at work with dissecting his new project when he felt a sharp tug at where his shoulder was supposed to be. It jarred his effort for a moment and kept his hands from continuing to tug. His concentration soon regained its hold, but the tug was repeated and Roene found his mind snapping right back to where his physical body sat. Thoughts slammed haphazard against the walls of his head and the Cerean had to pantomime finding balance before he could look at what was causing the disturbance.

 

Which, apparently, was a very bored, very irritated and very concerned looking woman with fluffed up auburn hair. Roene’s slight wrinkles spread into a smile. And the woman’s expression softened a little. The daggers that she bore down at him through her old circular spectacles retreated and were replaced with small sticks. Her concern was evident as she tugged at his shoulder. And when it was clear she had his attention, she cleared her throat before drawling at him with a nasally alto.

 

“Sir, may I ask what you are doing sitting in the middle of the lobby floor?” The woman asked. She tried to mask her scorn behind a veil of apathy. It didn’t work. The Cerean picked up on the woman’s hostility but did not respond in kind. It wasn’t befitting of a Jedi to do such things, especially in a hospital.

 

“My apologies. The bothan front desk agent permitted me to sit here as I wait for my acquaintances to finish their treatments. I did not wish to be a bother.” Roene’s eyes grew softer and his expression refused to harden. His tone was consistent with a smooth baritone brogue and he nodded his head in a sign of acquiescence.

 

“Well sir, Shava was giving me a break, and she informed me of no such thing. What, ‘acquaintances’ are you waiting for and why aren’t you staying near them?” Her temperament was not improving much. Her tone was persistent and slightly upset. Roene thought to change tack, but didn’t wish to cause conflict. And any improvisation at this point might be perceived differently than intended.

 

“I was the attending physician to a lot of patients that were taken from the CoreSec incident that occurred earlier today in Coronet city. I am here to make sure that they leave the hospital in one piece and that ill omens do not follow them. I promised another medical professional that I would stand vigil and ensure that they were taken care of. However, as I do not possess a medical ID, because Jedi don’t tend to carry such things, nor am I a relative to any of the patients, I was relegated to waiting in the lobby. If you wish me to move, I will do what I can. My name is Knight Kro’Roene’Givrah by the way. Forgive my manners,” Roene said. His tone was cool and his pale blue eyes stared carefully into the deep brown of his interrogator.

 

Pam, a woman that had seen a great deal today and was just about at the end of her rope, decided that this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. Her expression changed from accusatory to something resembling resignation and she went back up to the front desk. With a small nod to Roene, she started typing away at her computer and filing paperwork. “You may stay, just… Try to avoid being right in the middle of the waiting room. We are reaching max capacity fast and need all the room we can get.”

 

Roene nodded to Pam and stood carefully. He examined the loss of feeling in his right shin and gracefully compensated until he was in a chair at the eastern edge of the waiting room. It wasn’t as convenient as the floor and it wasn’t as comfortable a meditative stance, but it was manageable.

 

With a curt affirmation from Pam, Roene resumed his meditation.

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Raynuk watched almost placidly as Raia stirred awake and frowned at him, and that was enough to make the Sith's brow furrow in confusion and concern; it was not quite the reaction he had expected. But before either of them could say anything more, there was a series of four quick knocks on the door and Raia rose to answer the door.

 

"That must be Nurse Smith. She can explain better than I can." She had said before crossing the room. As far as Raynuk knew from the few times he had been in a hospital that he wasn't attacking, doctors and nurses usually knocked and then entered, or at least announced themselves, neither of which this person had done. But before the concern could form into words, Raia was opening the door, and then suddenly stepped back in surprise.

 

"Tirzah?!"

 

Next thing Raynuk saw was a blanket flutter to the ground, and someone smaller than Raia throw their arms around Raia. "You're safe! I was worried..."

 

Now it was Raynuk's turn to be surprised, as the smaller figure stepped back and he saw that it was indeed Tirzah. "Are you okay Raia? My mom said that Xae was taking care of you." The girls almost meek voice questioned. Clearly the young Tirzah had come here looking for, or at least expecting to find Raia, for it took her another moment to peek around Raia and meet Raynuk's gaze.

 

"What happened to you Master Quietus?" Tirzah asked, her voice even smaller as though she wasn't sure she should even be asking, "Where's my cousin Emily?"

 

Raynuk winced only slightly, holding up a hand to Tirzah the way one does to pause the other. "Raia, close the door please?"

 

He waited until the door latched shut before he continued, his arm falling back to the bed. "I would prefer that "Master Quietus" not be used while I'm still here in the hospital. That name spreading through these halls would likely not do any of us any favors. If you must, call me Master Montar... That is my real last name after all."

 

There was a hint of a smile that played across his face as the appearance of Tirzah simply reminded him of Jaina. "But pardon me, you asked questions; Raia is, it appears, in better shape than you." he nodded towards the girl's IV pole and hospital outfit. "As for me... Well, I basically fought an entire army, and then a rancor... and stabbed myself with my lightsaber. It was quite a series of events really."

 

Mustering some of his renewing strength, Raynuk pulled himself up, sitting taller in his bed as his eyes narrowed at Tirzah slightly. He could feel that she was barely holding together herself. "Your mom... she got injured pretty bad too didnt she?" he ventured, gauging the girl's reaction as he continued.

 

"A couple blaster shots? Here, here, here, and here?" He asked, pointing to the corrosponding locations on his own torso where he had felt the phantom pain on Dathomir, and again when he arrived at Corellia, places that Raynuk was now sporting some fresh circles of pink skin as though he had the exact same wounds that had been healed over. "Some severe trauma to her leg... What was it, burns?"

 

He paused, wanting to go slow and give the girl time to understand what he was saying, and not wanting to send her terrified and running from the room.

 

"And... they probably found she somehow had damage to one of her kidneys right?" He asked, lifting up his own shirt to reveal the stitches in his side from where his own set of doctors had removed his magical third kidney. Then he pulled the shirt back down and sighed, shaking his head; the girl's non-verbal physical reactions and the ripples to her presence through the Force confirmed it all.

 

"Im sorry Tirzah, I dont want to scare you... Suffice to say, I think your mother and I, ended up here in part, because of each other." His eyes shifted to Raia, who had been pretty silent the whole time since Tirzah showed up at the door. He knew what he had just told Tirzah was a surprise to Raia as well, and he wouldn't have been surprised to find a bit of anger brewing within his 'daughter' at finding out like this.

 

I can feel things that happen to her; injuries, really strong emotions, things like that. I think she can feel the same from me. Even when we are really, really far apart. And since we were both injured fairly badly on our own, feeling the other pushed us beyond what we could handle." He said, sounding half like he was figuring this all out right now himself.

"I think though, this is a conversation that Jaina and I need to finish, together... with both of you." He turned back to Tirzah and took a deep breath and sighed, having decided to answer this question last. "As for where your cousin is... She's not here Tirzah. After the last time Raia and I saw you and your mother, Emily got very, very mad at me, and we had a fight. She left soon after, and I have not seen her since."

 

His own eyes fell to the floor, his thoughts awash with a mixture of failure, sorrow, regret, and a bit of residual anger. It took him a moment to compose himself enough to look at Tirzah once more.

 

"If I may ask... Where is Jaina? I think I'll want to visit and check on her when I'm feeling a bit stronger." He then turned to Raia and offered her a bit of a smile. "I won't hold it against you if you want to go and spend time with Tirzah... Im sure she'll be better company than this old man."

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May the Forth therve you well...

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Raia did as she was bade, still slightly in shock at the other girl’s appearance and at little at the fact the two of them hadn’t wound up in a coma again. The mention of Emily’s name sent a mixture of guilt, pain, and worry through her and she winced slightly.

 

She was still trying to make sense of what Raynuk was saying to the other girl when he offered to allow her some time with Tirzah. The older girl moved as though to shake her head, but paused remembering Raynuk’s words from the ship. Who and what do you want to be?

 

It was the same thing here, he was giving her the freedom to choose and being kind enough to point out that there was an option to be had in the first place. If Raynuk thought it was safe enough, then it probably was. Tirzah had hugged her and nothing had happened. Raia looked down at the younger girl once more and nodded.

 

“You’ll comm me if you need anything, right?” she asked, still worried about his safety.

 

-----

 

Awash with conflicted emotion that she had no way to channel appropriately, Tirzah simply listened solemnly as Master Quietus--Master Montar, she reminded herself--filled in the blanks of her knowledge since Acrid. Fear spiked in her as she considered the implications of what she was being told: why had the wounds of her mother had put Master Montar in mortal peril, and vice versa? She knew very little about her mother's relationship with this man before her, though at one point she had mentioned something about the Dark Lord...

 

His question caught her off-guard, but she saw no harm in redirecting him to her mother. After all, they had worked together to great effect when they were trapped within her own mind. Raia seemed concerned for him, but Tirzah did not fully understand why, as he would be under the scrutinizing care of the hospital staff no matter where he went.

 

“My mom is in the bacta chambers on the fifth floor,” she interrupted before Master Montar could answer Raia’s question. “She was hurt, just like you said, and they said there’s usually a waiting list for a kidney, but right after they did surgery to take out her bad one, they said a match became available.”

 

Quirking her head to one side, she frowned at him, squinting as though to see better--though that had never helped before and certainly didn’t seem to now--but dropped the question that occurred to her mind, dismissing it as unlikely and irrelevant.

 

Glancing at Raia, she could think of a million more fascinating questions. She had never had many friends in any of the Jedi Temples, preferring to keep to herself, and her classmates never seemed too put-out by the lack of her company. But having shared the strange dream experience with Raia, she smiled for the first time since she could remember as she thought about the wild fight the older girl had shared with the Ssurian. It would be nice to have a companion who could understand feeling out-of-place in the same way she herself did.

 

“Want to go for a walk?” she said tentatively, a mischievous glint in her pale chocolate eyes.

 

-----

 

Raia cast a look at the blind girl, her eyes widening as she pieced together the possibilities. “Master, you don't think…”

 

With a quizzical wrinkle in her brow, Tirzah shook her head fractionally. “What?”

 

“I...accidentally over-healed him from his lightsaber injury,” Raia admitted, her eyes flitting to meet Raynuk’s. “Part of the reason he also required surgery is because he grew an extra kidney…”

 

Tirzah’s eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “That’s…” she said after a moment’s pause, “that’s amazing! You can do that?”

 

A second later, Raia’s insinuation seemed to sink in and the amusement on her face was replaced by astonishment. “Wait… did my mom get Master Montar’s extra kidney?”

 

Raia bit her lip before shrugging. “The timing fits, and it's certainly possible...It feels like that's right…”

 

She looked to Raynuk for confirmation.

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Raynuk’s brow furrowed as Raia answered him regarding the choice to go accompany Tirzah.

 

“You have a comm now?” He asked quizzically, only slightly confused. Did I give her one?

 

Raia held the device up, showing it to him, at which point it made sense; 2-VSH had given the girl it’s comm that Raynuk had given to the droid. He merely nodded, then looked at Tirzah as the girl began speaking again, momentarily forgetting that the girl was blind and probably didn’t even see the silent ending of the conversation about the comm.

 

As she spoke however, Raynuk was caught between amusement and concern; he had connected the dots, or potential dots, before Raia could even voice her own realization. When she finally did, Raynuk waited for her to look at him for confirmation or input, but she never did, instead seeming to avoid looking at him as she talked about healing him. And it was then that Raynuk saw the regret and worry that Raia had been trying not to show. And suddenly he knew that Raia was back to blaming herself, this time for him ending up in the hospital. The pair of girls exchanged looks as they continued to put it together. Only then did Raia finally look at him for confirmation.

 

“The way you describe it Tirzah… with a kidney suddenly becoming available; either it is indeed true, or someone else knows your mother is here and pulled some strings to get her a kidney. And I feel that such a manipulation would be more concerning.” He answered, looking at neither girl as he thought about the situation. But he suddenly shook his thoughts away, and turned his attention back to them both.

 

“But that should not concern either of you for right now. Go, enjoy the company of the other. Explore the hospital, and try not to get into trouble?” he said, giving just a bit of parental emphasis on it before a smile cracked his face. “Or at least… don’t get caught. I'd hate for Jaina or I to have to bail you out explain why our two charges destroyed something. If I need anything, I will let you know.”

 

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

 

Raynuk decided to rest more after the girls left his room, knowing the merits of recovery following intense injuries. But he did not let the time pass idlely, using the holonet display to catch up on what he had missed over the past days. The first thing he came across was what had apparently marked the first incident connected to Faust’s return; the Holonet broadcast.

 

Even Raynuk felt a finger of dread crawl up his spine at hearing the voice again combined with the cold blue eyes. But he was less paying attention to the voices the man spoke, than the way he spoke. Much like when Faust had revealed himself to Raynuk on Dathomir, he caught the hint of injury lurking behind the voice. But even then, certain parts of the speech stuck out to him.

 

…But I'm patient and willing to encourage other... enterprising parties... to attempt to complete the work I started while I recover from the flesh-wounds dealt to me...

...Those seeking to take on the Vanguard of a new era should be only those already schooled in the arts of Nadd and Amanoa.

...Once... or perhaps if... you've discovered the secrets left therein amid those flames, such as they were, we can talk anon as there are certain artifices you may need in your quest.

 

Faust was practically counting on the Cult of Morthos to follow in his steps and bring the galaxy close enough for Faust to deal the final blow that he felt had been robbed of him. In fact, the speech almost seemed to be directed at the cult, pointing them in certain directions. Perhaps the only thing that Raynuk knew would work against Faust’s plans was an aspect of the Cult that he had learned up to this point. To the Cult of Morthos, Vladamir Faust was a failure; a false god who was not worthy of the powers he tried to wield, and that he paid the price for it. They would not be so accepting to even acknowledge his returned existence. But it was valuable information none the less, and would give Raynuk and Draken more things to research.

 

He had just begun to read the news reports surrounding the attack on the CoreSec HQ when there was a single knock on the door. It was not the same knock that had come from Tirzah, and Raynuk’s senses quickly spiked at this new potential threat. But a second later the door cracked open, and Raynuk heard a voice that he swore he had heard somewhere before… in his delusional dreaming?

 

“Mister Montar?” a woman’s voice came into the room, a moment later followed by a face and blonde hair.

 

Apparently seeing nothing to give her further pause, the woman pushed the door open more and stepped in, flashing a smile at him as she propped the door open again before turning back to him. Raynuk’s heightened senses dissipated, momentarily frowning t how even that spike had brought with it a bit of fatigue now, as he realized it was merely a nurse.

 

“I’m glad to see you’re awake, are you feeling better?” She asked as she crossed the room and stood near the foot of his bed, carrying a pile of charts in one arm. “Im Nurse Smith. I'm not technically your nurse, but I saw how anxious your daughter, Raia was while you were brought in. And… if I’m being honest, the doctor who first took up your case probably was more harmful than helpful with easing her worries. So, I stepped in to comfort and keep an eye on her.”

 

She paused and looked around before she continued, “Where is she? I told her I’d come by to check on both of you. Didn’t think she was going to leave your side unless I dragged her or bribed her out.”

 

Raynuk nodded as he answered. “Yes, I am thank you. And thank you for keeping an eye on Raia; I know how… overwhelmed she can get at times. This is really only her second time on such a populated planet, and without me to guide her, I imagine she was akin to a krahbu in headlights. As for where she is; a friend of mine is also here, and her daughter came by to visit Raia and I. I sent her off to spend some time with the other girl; I imagine she needed some time with someone her age for a bit.”

 

The nurse smiled and nodded in turn, “Yeah she’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s sweet. She insisted on watching your surgery; it was the only way I could get her to let the doctors take you into the OR! Im glad she has friends here to spend time with though. Is your friend a patient here too? The hospital has been busy as hell with the overflow coming in the wake of the attack on the CoreSec HQ… Not that it impacts me as much…”

 

She laughed for a moment, having apparently seen the look of confusion on Raynuk’s face. “Sorry… Im a maternity nurse, so the attack on the HQ didn’t send much more our way. Speaking of which,” she hoisted the charts in her arms, “I need to get back. Tell Raia I stopped by will you? And feel free to come by the maternity ward with her later, once you’re feeling up to it.”

 

Raynuk thanked her again, but as she turned to leave, an idea formed in his mind and he stopped her with a question.

 

“Real quickly, my friend’s daughter said my friend was upstairs in the bacta chambers on the fifth floor. Would it be possible for you to tell me what room she’s in? Given that she’s up there, I want to go check on her, make sure she’s okay.” He asked, then added on to counter any objection that was coming. “After I’ve rested up some more of course.”

 

The nurse turned back around and placed her charts down on the table near his bed, picking up a datapad off the top of the pile. “Sure, I can see if I can find her for you. What’s her name?”

 

Raynuk had a moment of pause as he considered that question. He was in this hospital under a false name, and there was a fair chance that Jaina was as well. Still, Tirzah had made no mention of her mother being under a false name. “Jaina Jade Colos.” He answered.

 

For a few moments, the nurse seemed to be searching the patient database, her face growing an increasing frown until she finally spoke, still looking at the datapad and frowning. “I’m sorry… I can’t seem to find her.”

 

“She may be using her maiden name, I have not seen her in a while. My apologies. Try Skywalker. Jaina Jade Skywalker.” He answered almost immediately.

 

The nurse didn’t even glance at him, simply nodding as she began the search over again. This time an answer came much quicker.

 

“Ah, there it is! Yep. Jaina Jade Skywalker. Says here her room is number 527… Funny. That’s exactly two floors up from this room.” She said, looking at him with a smile of amusement. “Did you need anything else?”

 

Raynuk shook his head, indicating he needed nothing more, then thanked her again for her watching out for Raia and for her visit. After she left the room, Raynuk considered launching back into learning what he could about the CoreSec attack, which he was confident was the clue that Faust had told him about on Dathomir. But for the moment, its purpose, the exact events, and the conclusions that had been made remained unknown, as Raynuk suddenly found himself looking up at the ceiling, and reaching out with the Force to find Jaina. The connection the two shared eased the process that would have likely cause Raynuk some exhaustion, and with only minimal discomfort and strain, he touched her mind, a simple statement and announcement of his presence, like a knock at the door of her consciousness.

 

He knew in the past such a declaration of his proximity would have sent Jaina running as fast and as far from him as possible; she had gotten very good at running from him, and if their time together on the Ravenhammer was any indication, death had not dulled that skill. No, he would not seek her out yet. If she was being given extensive bacta treatments as Tirzah indicated, she was likely far more injured than Raynuk himself was, which meant she needed rest and recovery more as well.

 

Despite working against the clock of the Cult of Morthos and of Vladamir Faust, he knew some things in life necessitated slowing down; this was going to be one of those things. Besides; he had to come up with what he was going to say to her. For the next hour or so, he waged a mental debate and rehearsal of their eventual conversation, trying to prepare for any number of things she could say and how he would respond. Eventually, he tired himself out, and Raynuk fell into restful slumber.

 

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

 

The next day, shortly after he begrudgingly ate what the hospital called ‘breakfast’ -- which was so lackluster that Raynuk wouldn’t have even made the tuk’atas eat it – Raynuk decided that he had rested enough. He turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the floor for the first time in days. And with a bit of help and support from Raia, Raynuk stood up as well. 2V had been permitted to deliver a small bag containing Raynuk’s clothes that morning, although the droid had to suffer through extra rigid security protocols on both him and the container before either was allowed even inside the building. It was security measures that were likely due to the recent attacks, which was not a good enough reason for the droid.

So after sending Raia out to wait in the hallway following his refusal of her offer to help, Raynuk changed into a set of dark linen pants that were designed for comfort and a simple shirt he normally wore under his tunics, Raynuk, pulling his own pole from which a bag of neutriant liquid hung connected to his arm, stepped out into the hallway. Sadly he did not own anything more convenient than his armored boots, so he had opted to keep the hospital issued socks, complete with anti-slip grippy padding on the bottoms, to walk around with.

 

He offered Raia a gentle smile and inclined his head sideways and began his tottering down the hallway, for the first time feeling like he was as ancient as his birth document would claim he was.

 

“I think it is time for me to visit Tirzah’s mother, but first… Have you in your meandering, seen a gift shop in this hospital?” He asked, glancing sideways at Raia as the pair slowly walked. From the confused look he got in return, he could tell he was going to have to explain, and sighed.

 

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

 

An hour, one expalination, and a visit to the gift shop later, Raynuk and Raia found themselves on the fifth floor of the hospital.

“Twenty five… twenty six… ah, twenty seven. Here we are.” Raynuk said, counting the room numbers as they passed until they got to 527.

 

“Here we go…” He said, suddenly feeling a very un-Sith feeling of hesitation. Maybe this was not the best idea he’d ever had. Maybe he was suffering from some mental fatigue that was screwing with his ability to make rational decisions.

 

Coward.. The voice in his head seemed to carry with it a gentle smack on the back of his skull, and after a moment of Raynuk’s face scrunching up in response, he reached out, and gently knocked on the door.

 

“Jaina?”

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

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The Cerean’s over-large brow furrowed, drawing his bushy white eyebrows closer together. Complacent staring with little result begat frustration. His stagnant progress was not encouraging, but Roene was stubborn.

 

He belabored his investigation and the extensive nature of his continued observation carried well into the night. As far as he could tell, no matter how close he looked at the opalescent ribbon, he couldn’t do anything to it or with it. It may have seemed spectacular, but it was clearly rooted in something else. The force seemed to be a catalyst, but it wasn’t the source of the anomaly. It was perplexing and something wholly out of his element. But Roene’s lust for knowing the truth drove him forward. He had to know. He just had to.

 

Occasionally Pam would ‘wake’ him from his determined monotony and ask him to change seats, but Roene didn’t really mind. It wasn’t until her shift change that Pam woke him from his meditation for any length of time. And it was only to check that he was still alive. She waddled over to where he sat and pinched his shoulder but got no response. She poked at his cone head and when the Cerean’s eyes finally popped open, he smiled and settled into a relaxed posture. “What is it, Pam?” Roene asked, a tired smile stretched over his face.

 

“Well, I’m off. I just wanted you to know that the patients from the CoreSec HQ are recovering and should be free to go tomorrow. Ask Patty and she should be able to get you a blanket if you want to stay the night.” Pam said. Her concern grew when she noted the bags under Roene’s eyes, but the Cerean’s gentle repose placated her woe. Her tousled auburn hair was starting to fray in places and she looked very tired. Roene nodded his head to her as she left and wished her well on her departure.

 

Another woman, this one a Togruta, who was a lot more energized than Pam was, came in after Pam left and assumed her position at the desk. The shift change procedure seemed pretty cut and dry if a little mundane to watch. But from the seamless routine and second nature to the Togruta’s movements, Roene assumed this was Patty. Her demeanor was pleasant and composed. Even if her position included admitting gravely ill individuals, she seemed to glow with each admission. Nothing seemed to change her optimism, which was both refreshing and mildly disturbing.

 

When there was a break in activity, Roene introduced himself to the young lady and bowed deeply out of respect to her station. The Togruta smiled at him with glorious ivory teeth. She nodded her head in acknowledgment and told him that if he needed anything, all he needed to do was to ask her. The Cerean beamed at her cooperation and resumed his position from before. He settled into another hour or so of meditation, but when he noticed the time, he felt it prudent to alert Joelle of his absence.

 

Roene cleared his mind and reached out to the young woman. He felt for her mind as it wandered about Coronet and left a thought for her to notify her of his business.

 

Joelle, I know I said I would meet you this evening, but the investigation is carrying on a bit longer than I anticipated. Please be patient with me. If you wish, you can still come see me in Tyrena. I am at the Tyrena Medical Center. Otherwise, I will do whatever I can to be at the meadow tomorrow at dusk. Thank you, and I hope you are well.

 

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

 

The next day greeted Roene like a bloated Bantha. Dry sensations filled his throat, his eyes were a bit crusty, and his back was a little worse for wear from falling asleep in his chair. A surprising consolation though, was that he seemed to be covered in a blanket. It was a moderately effective cotton number and was keeping most of his body warm as if someone had tucked him in. But he had no recollection of falling asleep or of anyone tucking him in.

 

When he turned to look at the front desk, Patty smiled at him before returning to her daily tasks. Roene smiled back and nodded, revealing a sharp pain in his neck. I am never going to sleep like this again, he vowed to himself.

 

When the thought of returning to his pointless task clouded his mind, Roene groaned and almost missed the sensation of resting; even if said resting included the hospital chair. But the Cerean would not abide by the possibility of disaster. He needed to figure out if this Faust fellow had followed the injured from Coronet and if he was going to cause more trouble here. It wasn’t an easy task, but the mild impatience he felt from sleeping with his back crooked gave him enough clarity of mind to solve his conundrum. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was a solution that would help him get to the bottom of this.

 

With no wasted time, Roene let his blanket fall to the floor. He stood to his full height, stretched his body out and put his hands together. He opened his mind to the entire hospital. He felt every presence glittering like stars spread throughout the complex. And, before he could talk himself out of it, Roene projected his voice through the force to everyone assembled in the hospital. No part of the Hospital was excluded. No mind was left out and no patron was forgotten.

 

I come from Coronet seeking Faust. I need to know if his darkness afflicts this hospital and if he wishes harm on those assembled here. If you know anything about what I speak, please meet me in the Hospital Lobby at your earliest convenience. I do not wish harm. I wish to prevent it.

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A thought echoed through the imposed silence of her watery surroundings, a voice that sounded somewhat familiar and yet far away. He spoke concerning Faust, spoke of seeking answers, spoke in the kriffing optimistic way of a Jedi fully given over to their one-dimensional beliefs and the cause of justice.

 

Jaina's very flesh bore evidence of the results those kinds of beliefs achieved. Irascible numbness reigned: she could have easily reached out to assuage the questions of the Jedi who reached out to the corners of the hospital, but within her, she could not find the motivation to do so. What would be the point?

 

The slurping, sucking sound of viscous bacta draining out of the tank filled her ears as the pair of nurses lifted Jaina gently from her womb-like sanctuary. The cold air bathed her bare skin in goosebumps, and she gave an involuntary shiver as they placed her on her bed to examine the progress of her recently acquired kidney. Normally, she would be asking all kinds of questions, attempting to see things through the eyes of such medical personnel. But nausea welled up within her as the staff poked and prodded at her wounds, theoretically inspecting scar tissue and looking for signs of infection, so Jaina opted for focused silence as she stared at the ceiling and willed herself just to breathe.

 

The Selonian, who she had now come to identify as Nurse Rigel, bent over her when their examination completed. "Miss Skywalker, I am pleased to report that your body seems to be taking nicely to your new kidney. Your wounds are all much improved, and it looks like we may have to keep you here only a few days more."

 

She nodded in acknowledgment, attempting not to betray her surprise and dismay that she would not be rid of this place sooner. The barren white walls--or the hallways with their impersonal and arbitrary decor--gave her an unmitigated case of the creeps that seemed to run deep enough to touch her Force intuition.

 

As usual, however, she must have failed in such an attempt because Nurse Rigel's face softened slightly. "I'm sorry I don't have better news about your friend. You were very brave to risk yourself to save him."

 

Shrugging, Jaina flashed him a smile that did not reach all the way to her eyes. "Thank you, Nurse Rigel," she said placidly. "All we can do is hope for the best."

 

He took her hand and patted it a few times in condolence, staring at Jaina far longer than she was comfortable. She didn't want his pity or his help, and he seemed to be waiting on pins and needles, expecting some kind of emotional breakdown. "Do you need my help getting dressed, or are you feeling strong enough?"

 

The sooner you're gone, the better, she thought irritably.

 

"I'll be fine. Thank you," she said curtly, hoping her dismissal was clear enough.

 

With a sorrowfully droopy parting glance from his overlarge brown eyes, in some sappy attempt to console her, the Selonian disappeared through the door.

 

Jaina let her head drop back on the pillow, exhaling heavily as the last vestiges of bacta evaporated off of her skin, forming a protective barrier that encouraged the DNA of the damaged cells to regrow. Reaching for the hospital-issued gown on the bedside table next to her, Jaina winced, a sharp hiss of air punctuating the spike of pain that accompanied her optimistic attempt at movement. Glancing down at the wound, her mouth fell agape in shock as she looked at it, truly, for the first time since her reemergence from the grave.

 

The faint line of an incision ran horizontally across her abdomen, demonstrating where the surgeons had replaced the injured kidney. Just above that, there was a central patch of blackened scar tissue, its edges tinged with the pinkness of new skin. But what she could not have predicted was the veritable spiderweb of lines that seemed to grow outward from her wound, decorating the canvas of her stomach, its branches halting just beneath her ribcage near the top and descending downward from the line of her incision like a root system.

 

Painted perfectly, indelibly, on the surface of what had been her daughter's home for a period almost too-brief, from the soil of her horizontal scar, the marks of her past showed the new growth of a lush and towering tree.

 

Weak fingers traced the gossamer threads as Jaina studied her own skin, susceptible to her own emotions for the first time since Emily's comm had entered her awareness. Blue-tinged sadness fluttered at the edges of her numbness, threatening to thaw the careful distance she had put between herself and her attachments. The only one of those that had proven safe, or even worthwhile, was the one she held to Tirzah.

 

Tirzah had been discharged earlier that morning and had gone to the cafeteria just before Jaina's morning dip in the bacta tank. Jaina could still sense her, down on the fourth floor, her state of mind much improved since they had arrived on Corellia.

 

But her reach outward for her daughter unwittingly made her aware of another fact: Raynuk was coming. Since first sensing him, she had attempted to ignore the reality of his presence here in the hospital. He was weakened as she was, though not to the same degree. But his intent was bent on her: somehow she knew, and there would be no ignoring it now.

 

In her repeat attempt to sit up and reach the clothes sitting on the bedside table, the synthflesh covering her badly burnt leg screamed in protest. Settling for pulling the garment to her with the Force and draping it around her shoulders and neck, since she could not manage to sit upright, a nagging voice filtered into her head as she braced her pounding heart against Raynuk's arrival.

 

You don't want him to see you while you're weak.

 

She snorted angrily at herself, finding the truth of her own thought distasteful. Why was she so afraid of vulnerability around him? Emily had maintained he was different than she had remembered. Desperately, Jaina wanted to believe her. Their forced interactions on the Ravenhammer were so stiff, so cold, even as he seemed to genuinely wish for a reconciliation with her. But that had been entirely her doing. The warmth of his eyes, the gentleness of his touch as he traced the path of her relieved tears when they had emerged from the dream...

 

No, the possibilities were too wonderful, too convoluted, too terrifying to even consider for a moment. Trust, as she had so callously reminded her niece, was no longer given; it must by necessity be earned.

 

Coward, the accusation echoed.

 

"Jaina?" His voice came seconds after a soft tapping on the door.

 

With a heavy exhale, she reached out with the Force to tap the door control that would admit him. She could not even see the door for the rounded curtain that shrouded her bed, but the weight of his presence was tangible nonetheless. And it was tentative to the point of anxious.

 

The thought emboldened her more than any inner encouragement could have.

 

With an invisible hand, she dragged back the edges of the curtain, knowing full well that the minimal undergarments she wore would leave her wounds on display. Her leg, blackened from hip to shin, her arm, the glancing hit mostly healed, and her stomach, with its branching frondescence, displayed like a work of art.

 

"Come in, but I warn you, it's not pretty. There's a long explanation involving a trip to the Unknown Regions, a local teenage boy, and a joyride in a borrowed speeder, but I won't bore you with the details," she began sardonically.

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

May the Forth therve you well...

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The lock on the door clicked before him, and after only a moment of thought, Raynuk pushed the door open slowly with his hand and began to enter the room, dragging his constant pole shaped friend with him. Upon first entering, he saw only the rounded curtain surrounding the bed that Raynuk knew from his earlier illusions that Jaina was laying in.

 

"Come in, but I warn you, it's not pretty. There's a long explanation involving a trip to the Unknown Regions, a local teenage boy, and a joyride in a borrowed speeder, but I won't bore you with the details.” Jaina’s voice came as the curtain began to reel back as if moved by an invisible hand.

 

Raynuk stopped in his tracks when Jaina revealed her injured self, lying in the bed. It was not shock, or surprise, or revulsion that stopped him, but rather concern. He had known she had been under intense bacta treatments, and it became clear now just how extensive the need was. He looked her in the eyes for a moment following what Jaina probably hoped would throw Raynuk off guard. Then he stepped forward, continuing to walk to her bedside as though the pause never happened.

 

“Teenage boys and joyrides… Sounds downright domestic if you ask me. I’ll see your story, and raise you one of my own; an army of zombie nightsisters and cultists, an undead Rancor that got the drop on me, self-inflicted lightsaber stabbings, orbital bombardments, and Vladimir Faust.” He countered, just a hint of sarcasm and mockery in his voice, and a small smug smirk on his face as he closed the gap.

 

He reached the bed without having diverted his eyes to the wounds that Jaina was putting on display, his attention remaining solely on her face. The smirk faded as the joke seemed to fade, and only then did he glance around the room, and spotting a chair similar to the one Raia had been using for a bed in his room, reached out with his free hand and pulled it over with the Force. He sat down gingerly, groaning only slightly. making sure his liquid-bearing pole came with him. For a long moment he looked at her, as if deciding something, his brows furrowing slightly a few times. Finally he moved, leaning forward in the chair, placing his hand on top of hers.

 

“You’re supposed to give them disfiguring scars, not the other way around.” He said quietly, sounding a bit concerned and disappointed. It was that statement that broke the foundation of his gaze, as his eyes slowly shifted down to examine the wounds that Jaina had suffered.

 

Her eyes followed his, and she gave the ghost of a shrug. “I’m getting slow in my old age,” she grinned. “Meanwhile, you look exactly like you did twenty years ago. The haircut was a nice touch.”

 

Raynuk couldn’t hide the small embarrassed smile. “Wasn’t even my idea. Apparently my droid thought it would help if no one recognized me as an infamous Sith Lord. At least this way I don’t have to worry about having my roots showing. And don’t sell yourself short, you’re still as good looking as the day I kidnapped you.” He countered with a roguish grin, before it fell away as he nodded towards Jaina’s wounds.

 

“I felt all of this too you know…” The residual rings of pink skin where blaster fire had torn into her torso and arm brought the very faint memory of the pain that had dismounted Raynuk from his horse. “Those hits actually knocked me off a horse. Full on faceplant into the dirt, so thanks for that.”

 

“What, they’ve never heard of speeder bikes on Dathomir? Good thing you were in some backwater hell instead of upworld Coruscant, you’d have been splattered on the duracrete and you wouldn’t have even gotten to blame me for it,” she laughed.

 

“No, but Emily and Raia would have… So clearly we both lucked out.” He retorted with a laugh of his own.

 

His visual inspection fell to the scar and tree that now occupied the majority of her abdomen, and there was a visible frown that passed across his face as he continued on and looked at her leg. But then the inspection was over, and Raynuk stood with a little more effort than normal, reached across Jaina, and pulled the blanket of her bedding up and over to rest atop her, covering her up to roughly where her elbows were before he sat back down.

“Well, it looks like I’m not the only one sporting tree-inspired scars now.” He spoke, holding up his left hand which still bore the lines of wood grain all over it and wiggling his fingers.

 

Jaina gave him a lopsided grin. “This comes as no surprise to me, you’ve always had a somewhat wooden personality.”

 

The only recourse for a pun and insult that bad was for Raynuk to roll his eyes before he came up with an answer.

“Guess that explains why it was so easy for you to set fire to my heart.” He countered with a mischievous smile. But soon enough even that bit of mirth faded from view, and Raynuk fell into silence for a few moments.

 

“How are you doing, Jaina?” He finally asked. They had verbally sparred, throwing jokes and light-hearted insults at each other, and probably could have kept doing that all day. But nothing substantial would have ever come of it. They were talking, and now it was time to turn the conversation to subjects that mattered.

 

Her face contorted slightly, as if dreading the conversation that was coming, or utterly unsure as to her response. The silence hung in the room further, and it seemed almost as if she was never going to answer, when finally, she exhaled slowly and looked back out the adjacent window, though she left her hand under his touch.

 

“The doctors say I should make a full recovery. They’re not worried, and neither am I. Though Tirzah seems to be worried about everything constantly, but she comes by that honestly,” she finished blankly, as though it were not obvious she was avoiding the essence of his question.

 

Raia, standing just behind Raynuk’s chair, seemed to detect the unspoken tension between them and asked quickly, “Where is Tirzah? I think I’ll go look for her, if you don’t mind.”

 

Jaina turned back from the window to smile at the girl, her eyes softening into a display of warm sincerity. “Tirzah is downstairs in the fourth floor cafeteria. I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.”

 

As the girl’s footsteps retreated from the room, Jaina’s gaze resumed its former edge, her shields up as it came back to rest squarely on Raynuk. “Well, well, some things never change. I see you still like them young, powerful, and impressionable,” she quipped, receiving a look of pure daggers in return from Raynuk before it warped into a grumpy smirk.

 

A heavy sigh escaped her, and her eyes fell to her linked hands on top of the covers, indicative of her obvious emotional tug-of-war. “How do you expect me to be doing, Raynuk?” her voice came much softer than the hardened expression on her face. “Tirzah’s safe, and she’s with me, and that’s about all that I can hope for right now.”

 

Hope. The word served to embitter her further, and she glanced up at him expectantly. He in return, seemed to be studying her in silence, but then slowly removed his hand and sat back in the chair, looking out over her to the large window that she had been distracted by moments before.

 

“If there is one thing that you taught me Jaina… It is to never assume I know what to expect from you.” He answered a few seconds later. “But since you asked… I will tell you what I see; it is the same thing I saw in the moments following our retrieval of the girls, and even before that... long ago.”

 

His gaze then turned to Jaina again, but the look of hesitation, of tired worry, that he had been trying to attone with since he entered the room, was gone.

 

“You are still running from things. It used to be running from me, from the monster I had devolved into. But now… Now I can't fathom what you’re running from, except from the prospect of your life being normal again. Of you being happy again. And if you don’t stop and consider where this running will lead you, will lead your daughter, it’s going to kill you… again.”

 

He leaned forward once more, only grunting slightly. “And this time it almost did the trick, didn’t it?”

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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Jaina swallowed, but to little effect. Her mouth still felt like all the moisture had been utterly sapped from it--perhaps some strange side effect of the bacta--and so her muttered response was hoarse and thick with emotion. “If I run for long enough, maybe I’ll find something worth running towards,” she finished simply. Her eyes flicked out the window, then back to him, and a half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “There is no corner of this galaxy that holds purpose for me anymore, besides Tirzah. She is everything, now.”

 

All the memories came rushing in as she spoke: Emily’s teary voice over the comm, Tares’ concerned eyes across the table in Coronet City, Kirlocca’s admonition against changing her beliefs for the sake of the Order, Ashley’s retreating back as she wandered away from Tirzah in a vision that Jaina was not meant to see.

 

The dry air stung her watering eyes as Jaina looked back up at Raynuk. “I’ve lost Andon, I've lost Tirzah's childhood, I’ve lost Emily and the b--”

 

Horror at the secret she had almost revealed flooded her and she looked askance once more, lapsing into silence, the utter grief and jealousy that twisted in her gut like a knife nearly overwhelming her.

 

Raynuk’s eyes had fallen away from Jaina when she cut herself off, but merely a few seconds later, he spoke, his voice quieter than she could ever remember it being.

 

“And the baby…” He finished her sentence. He was seemingly looking at his hands, which were slowly squeezing into fists and then relaxing before squeezing again. “I know.”

 

Silence filled the room again, neither one of them apparently wanting to risk over-sharing again. But eventually, Raynuk lifted his head and looked at her again.

 

“I know Tirzah is important to you, but how could you possibly know that there’s nothing else in the galaxy to give you purpose if you never stick around long enough to find out? Have you truly considered what you meeting a foolish death will mean? What will become of Tirzah if you go off and get yourself killed?” His words and his questions seemed to be coming almost too fast for Jaina to absorb, let alone come up with answers for. “What will Emily think if that happens? Because I know she’ll blame herself for not being closer to you. It will crush both of them. They would be devastated Jaina. And --”

 

Now it was his turn to stop short and swallow hard, but his gaze did not waver. “And so would I. It might kill me too.”

 

He finally looked down at his hands again before he continued, “Literally and figuratively… The bond we share; we both know it transfers pain of one of us to the other. We are far more connected than we knew. And if you go off and get yourself killed, it might take me with you. And…” he paused again, then stood up and moved the few inches forward to her bed, and then sat down on the edge of it.

 

“And even if it didn’t, I’m not sure I wouldn’t go barreling into a fight I can’t win against whoever or whatever had the misfortune of taking you from our lives again.” he finished, an intensity in his eyes that Jaina knew far too well to think he was showboating.

 

“If you run long enough… You’ll never see what you’re running past Jaina, and eventually, you’ll stop even looking at any of it.” He offered, countering her earlier evasive statement.

 

Jaina had remained stock-still for the length of his tirade, uncharacteristically quiet, absorbing all that he had to say: she had never known Raynuk to be a man who spoke without warrant or purpose. His last pair of statements tugged at the strings of her heart, and a switch flipped in her mind, an angry defense mechanism that refused to be manipulated. While she could see the sincerity of his concern, it was not enough to dam the tide welling up in her. A harsh and ancient whisper seemed to roll through the room, suggesting vengeful thoughts under its breath. Waves of rage rolled off of her in carefully controlled fury, her weakened body nearly trembling under the strain.

 

“Don’t you dare talk to me about what Tirzah needs, and don’t you dare talk to me about Emily,” she snapped, her voice dangerously quiet, eyes flashing with hazel-green fire. “You have no room to pretend like you care what happens to her. You don’t even know where she is. Andon would have killed for this chance. He would have done anything to stay with Tirzah forever, and you’re cavorting across the galaxy with some little Dathomiri girl instead of being there for your own child.”

 

All of the buried frustrations, wounds, and grievances came tumbling out like a river. “It’s about time that someone else’s pain causes you pain. If all I accomplish by being alive is that you become a little more human, and stop pretending to be this demigod raised on the handouts of Ar-Pharazon, then maybe you’re right, maybe there is a purpose left for me.”

 

Deep spikes of pain were evident in her eyes, scars that ran deeper and grew larger than the tree stretching across her body. “This galaxy is so kriffing mixed up. If it finds happiness, it has to crush it somehow. If it finds peace, it has to obliterate it. I’m tired of the weight of being a Jedi, being answerable to some greater good that never seems to give good back. I’m tired of losing everything and starting over.”

 

Glancing back and forth between his eyes as though she could find the words she sought in their depths, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled across her cheeks. In her face, the teenage girl who had stood on the battlefield at Mimban, choosing between her sister and the Jedi or Raynuk and the Sith, stared back at him, as though daring him to answer the question she could not ask.

 

Since she could not bring herself to give a voice to it, the walls around her heart screaming that to do so would be to disengage the last failsafe, she asked the only question she could manage, her voice trembling. “Raynuk, I… what are you running towards?”

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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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Raia had cautiously followed Raynuk into what he'd been calling the "bacta treatment facility", curious as to what it even meant. The huge empty vat that dominated one side of the room was enough to send a shudder through her as her mind raced in a myriad of ways it could be used. The movement of the curtain drew her attention as Tirzah's mother answered and revealed the extent of her injuries.

 

The Dathomiri girl had seen burn injuries before, but never those brought on by blaster bolts. Still not having let go of her healer's training, Raia continued to look her over, utterly ignoring the conversation between the two adults. It was then that she noticed the tree-like scar that came up from the same kind of incision they'd made on Raynuk to remove the kidney.

 

Jaina's mention of Tirzah helped her brain find the out she needed as another chill washed through her. "Where is Tirzah? I think I'll go look for her if you don't mind." Once Jaina answered her, Raia nodded briefly and she briefly touched Raynuk's shoulder in a silent "goodbye" before turning to bid a hasty retreat.

 

As she wandered the corridors toward the cafeteria, her mind turned back to the odd voice she'd heard inside her head that spoke of Faust, darkness, and not wishing harm. Raynuk had offered no explanation of the event, so she did her best to dismiss it. Faust was the last person she wanted to think about.

 

She stepped off the turbo lift and on to the fourth floor she looked around for a moment to find the signs that Nurse Smith had taught her to look for so she wouldn't get lost. While Raynuk had been recovering, she'd taken the chance to work on improving her Basic reading capabilities, so it was only a matter of finding the right mix of letters to guide her to her destination. Unfortunately, "cafeteria" was one of the longer words that gave her trouble remembering the letter order, so it was that she was standing in the middle of the hallway and Dr. Janspear collided with her, his data charts going everywhere.

 

"Watch where you're going!" he shouted, the frowned when he looked up and saw who it was. "Oh, it's you."

 

Raia picked herself up off the ground, muttering some rather colorful Dathomiri curses under her breath. "'Oh, it's you,'" she echoed in the same condescending tone the other had used, glaring at him and cocking her head to one side.

 

"Are you mocking me? Impudent girl!" The human doctor's face flushed with anger and indignation.

 

"You are a bad healer and should be ashamed of yourself. Your ways are not the only ways," she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly. "You have a small mind and no excuse. You think you are better than us because I don't speak well in Basic and he is a trader. You make up lies and trouble to make you happy," she shot back. "You were the one who ran into me. Apologize," she demanded, still more than a little angry with him for jeopardizing her place alongside Raynuk.

 

As soon as Raynuk had woken, Raia had barely had time to fill him in on the story she'd woven of his being a trader and his daughter. She'd also been quick enough to relay what she'd heard his doctor say to Nurse Smith, even if she didn't really understand much of it. She'd known enough to sense the trouble it could cause them, potentially leaving her taken away from him for good. She'd just finished when the CorSec investigator had come in with questions. The whole thing had blown over once their questions had been satisfactorily answered, but she still blamed Raynuk's doctor for the whole event.

 

"Apologize? To you? My, if our vocabulary hasn't improved over the last few days," his eyes narrowed and he bent down to stare her directly in the eye. "Don't think for a minute you two have me fooled. I don't know what the two of you are up to, but I'll not stand for it in my hospital. The sooner we can discharge you, the better." He straightened and then stormed off without so much as a look backward.

 

Raia continued to glare at his retreating form until he ran smack into an automatic door that had suddenly and inexplicably decided not to open for him and with enough force to bloody his nose. A wry grin crossed her face as the door resumed normal function and she disappeared down the hallway in search of Tirzah and something to eat.

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Roene didn’t really perceive of himself as a devious person. But his impatience – unusual for a Cerean that prided himself on his skills maintaining patience and serenity – brought upon by continued frustration and mild back pain, hardened his resolve and made the path forward very clear. While his call to the hospital didn’t immediately evoke a response as he had seemingly intended, it did ping off other beings in the hospital that were sensitive enough to understand his message. Emotions were hot and boiling on the fifth floor. The sensations were palpable enough that Roene could feel the darkness hidden within them. Pain, regret, and woe spiked and wrenched Roene’s attention to that general location. But another sensation started to build. And this one was closer to the ground floor. It sat just below the other sensation and compounded with the other.

 

Roene was tired of not knowing. He was tired of waiting in indecision and waiting to act after the fact. He would be patient when other’s lives weren’t at risk. This was no such moment. He had seen the bodies that were carted away from the CoreSec incident and although death was a natural thing, the way that those men and women died was not natural.

 

With a whisper and a small gust of air, Roene moved past the hospital checkpoint. Patty was busy with papers and everyone around him returned to their work, ignoring the Cerean as he made his way past. A cold pool of energy swelled to the surface of Roene’s skin and embraced the extent of his body. The energy started to shift and swell, causing his physical form to turn slightly transparent. The appearance of his power and physical form were suppressed so much that his identity was a non-element. If he was stopped and directly questioned, the effect would diminish. But the doctors and nurses were often times so busy, that if he moved carefully, and continued moving, he would be able to navigate through them with only mild effort. He was like unto a gust of wind, brushing through the hospital. He flew up the maintenance stairs until he stopped, sniffing outside the fourth-floor entryway. There was something wrong on this level. The Cerean took a moment to pause in a side custodial closet.

 

He didn’t really know how he would proceed because his fog technique was effective, but extremely exhausting if he held onto it too long. Without a convincing alibi, the Cerean would be in hot water and his conscience would not allow him to refuse the consequences. When he was running out of ideas, his eyes fell on a row of lockers that were right in front of his nose. Carefully, the Cerean opened one of them up and saw a brown jumpsuit rolled up and stuck into the bottom of the locker. He bent over and retrieved it with a single motion and turned the garment over in his hand to give it a preliminary inspection. The nametag on the jumpsuit said ‘Jonz.’ It was a funny somewhat innocuous name and it was sewn into the garment, which meant there was no changing it. Roene didn’t much care about that though. He looked at the jumpsuit in earnest and formed a plan in the span of a moment or two. A feeling in his gut told him that what he was doing was wrong, but his experiences over the past two days demolished his self-doubt with efficient speed. He quickly changed out his robes and slipped the janitorial garb over his head. It caught for a moment on the bark of his wooden arm, but the jumpsuit was a bit baggy so it was relatively simple to fit. Without another thought, Roene folded his robes and put his robes in the locker that he emptied.

 

The back of his irrational brain was wriggling with enthusiasm about the exhilaration brought by his camouflage, having never disguised himself before, but the logical majority diffused what little excitement he had for the favor of an expedient deliverance. Roene grabbed a mop and bucket and proceeded to the fourth-floor door. His nerves fought to the surface and he tried to wrest his attempts at investigation away from this foolish act. But he was in it too far and would do his best to play up his part. When he noticed the key-card feature on the fourth-floor door, one of his hearts sunk. The other, not willing to concede some measure of optimism, drove his arms to pat at the large pockets of Jonz’s jumpsuit. It would probably look a little silly to anyone walking by, but he was lucky that not many people used the maintenance stairs. A moment passed of silent patting and Roene came away with a ring of different key cards that took him a few more moments to decipher before he could finally find his way through the door and onto the fourth-floor landing.

 

He followed the strength of the feeling that he was getting through the force straight toward the fourth-floor cafeteria. When he saw a few doctors walking through the hallway, he concocted a rough story of how he was heading to the cafeteria because of a serious spill. But when he got to the cafeteria and saw a doctor walking past with papers, he didn’t know what to do. So, not wanting to seem obvious, Roene picked a spot on the floor and just started mopping. He had some experience with a mop and made the effort look seamless, but it was clear that there was no spill on the floor and he was worried that his cover would be blown rather quickly.

 

Yet, a spike in agressive thoughts drew his attention out of the cafteria and down the hall. An exchange took place between an adolescent girl and a doctor. The doctor was being extremely unreasonable and although the adolescent seemed fiery and obstinate, she was right to ask for his apology. They separated paths after that, but Roene’s mind reached out to the doctor as the Cerean continued to mop.

 

Dr. Janspear was clearly absorbed in his own incompetence, but that much didn’t concern him. The Cerean dipped his idle mind – the one not controlling the mop – into the mind of Dr. Janspear and fed him a strong hint that he should apologize to the young lady for his unprofessional attitude and his unprofessional conduct. After all, he was a doctor. And Roene knew, at an academic level, that doctors made vows to cause no harm. The Cerean took that to mean of body, and mind.

 

Now, the doctor may have possessed a stronger mind than he inferred and resisted his suggestion, but Roene wasted no more time on him than necessary. Instead, the Cerean janitor stopped polishing an extremely clean portion of the floor and tried to look around for some sort of mess.

 

All-the-while, Roene kept his senses open for the disturbances to see if they would manifest, even a little.

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Disembarking from her ship, Ammi walked at a very determined gait towards the disaster site. She felt her stomach turn as she surveyed the wreckage. She stood there with her arms crossed, her green and blue speckled eyes drinking in every last detail. Wiping away a tear she turned abruptly on her heels, a determined look on her face. She understood that most of the survivors were already in various hospitals around Coronet by now and felt relief, but was still shaken. Sheltered on the world she grew up on, and despite various mishaps and misadventures, this was the first time she'd really encountered such carnage up close and in person.

 

Her mood was somber as she walked away, thinking how she'd always remember this for her first visit back to Corellia. She'd been here before a few times, but never on her own. Always with a parent. Papa, Mama. She closed her eyes. Had her Mother, her actual mother taken her here once? She closed her eyes, her head hurting as she tried to recall that memory. Flames and fire. She shook her head, dispelling that thought. Behind her, 4L-T0 and B45-50 stood by, sensing her mood. They didn't speak, and 4L-T0, usually quick to banter, just placed a hand on her shoulder. A small smile cracked on Ammi's face. "Alright," she said aloud, turning to face them, forcing the smile out. "Let's do what we came here to do. B45-50, work on getting the last of the permits secured and getting ahold of some additional sponsors. 4L-T0, trusting you with set up for the concert itself. I'll talk with anyone I can find from CoreSec or someone reasonably in charge."

 

As it happened, the local commander left, already apparently on his way to follow up on some lead. Details were still sketchy. She also heard about the attack on the hospital on Coruscant and determined to add that to it. It seemed like most of the patients who weren't dead would survive, but she also knew too that recovery could take months, even years, even with wondrous things like bacta tanks and the like.

 

She handled the publicity, jumping onto a local broadcast after working over a local radio personality with a mix of earnestness and charm. She ensured that all proceeds went to help the victims of the two recent attacks, she also made a vow as she spoke to those listening in Coronet and beyond.

 

... and I hope that by coming together, we can show that we are not afraid! We will support those who risk their lives to defend us! I'm asking you to join us, the Galaxy GlobeTrotters, for a concert and benefit for those injured in such senseless attacks! All proceeds will go to cover the medical expenses for those injured in the attack, civilian and CoreSec personnel alike, then to help those on Coruscant injured in another senseless act of violence. Anything left will be donated to CoreSec to help them rebuild. We will show the galaxy that we can come together and we will now be cowed by Sithspawn terrorists!

 

The concert was to be set that evening in Diadem Square, the Galactic GlobeTrotter soon parked and in full stage mode. Donations had already been coming in from several places within Corellia's shipping and starship building sectors. Ammi had surprised herself in her actions. Normally content to just play quiet backstreets and dives, aspiring to just make it big, she didn't think of such activism before. She knew though that her family would be proud of her, especially since the attack struck so closed to home for them.

 

She warmed up, determined to make this big. She started working on a new song, called Fear is the Mind Killer. It was based off an aesthetic order's meditations, designed to be both contemplative, like the order's meditative litany, as well as to triumphantly rally against the fear such acts as those they were raising funds for bred. It seemed a bit off, as if it was too political, too complex for the Galaxy at large that seemed to drink up stories of Good and Evil battling it out, but she thought it still a truism worth singing about all the same. She knew of someone who once tried to adapt a similar songs and stories off of the same order's history and works, but that idiot crafted it as well as the infamous Darksaber. Ammi was determined to at least do some justice with her song unlike that hack.

Forgiveness is a rebirth of hope and a reconstruction of dreams. Once forgiving begins, dreams can be rebuilt. When forgiving is complete, meaning has been extracted from the worst of experiences.

- Beverly Flanigan.

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