"My life, for yours…"
Visas ended her meditation as soon as she sensed the Exile's presence. After the Ebon Hawk had departed from Malachor V…
No. Departed wasn't the right word. Departed sounded friendly. Escaped.
After the Ebon Hawk had escaped the destruction of Malachor V, Urela had locked herself inside her bunk without a word.
Visas could no longer sense the Jedi crone, Kreia. Not as Kreia once was. Visas' eyes were the Force and through it, she could still faintly identify Kreia. Her aura was not the tractor beam it once had been— manipulating every thought, every conversation at a near cellular level. Though the crone's life force had certainly diminished, Visas could sense that Kreia was not really gone. Diluted. Scattered throughout the Galaxy, but not gone entirely.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Visas. I know it's late."
"It is no interruption. I was… we were all very concerned about you."
The Exile's tone felt odd. Her voice was a color the Miraluka did not recognize. Invariably, Urela's voice had always appeared to Visas as a deep Blue. Strong. Warm. Comforting.
Before joining Urela, Visas had been sent to kill her by her former master, Nihilus. On that fateful day, she attacked the Exile with every bit of the training her former master had instilled within her, but Urela bested Visas and for reasons unknown to the Miraluka, she spared her. Even at that dark time, Urela's voice was a safe, warm Blue. Had it not been for that merciful Blue voice, Visas might be dead— or worse— she might have returned to face the wrath of Lord Nihilus.
"I need to leave for a while, Visas."
The Miraluka scanned the Exile with the Force. Her voice was distant. Hesitant. Pink.
"There's something I need to check out alone."
Pink. The Miraluka did not attribute that color to the Exile.
"Besides—you and the others have more than earned some time off. Don't you think?"
Urela's voice was barely a whisper and it was not Blue. It was Pink.
In the past, Visas would never have questioned the motives of her master. The destruction of her home world and genocide of her people had long ago crushed any spirit the Miraluka might have been destined to develop. Nihilus had used this to his advantage, transforming Visas into a Sith machine— one incapable of questioning the actions of her superiors.
Urela and the others had begun to influence a small change in this regard. Visas still did not feel comfortable enough to interject or join them in their late-night conversations. Though a small part of her may have wished to join in— to be included— she maintained a safe distance from their intense interpersonal affairs because they felt too free and perilous.
Her new master was careful to shield her thoughts and feelings, but the others, their jealousies and desires leaked out them unchecked. To Visas, being in their midst for more than a few hours felt overwhelming. Taboo.
"Are you listening to me, Visas?"
Blue. Visas exhaled, relieved.
"Yes. Forgive me."
"No. It's late. I'll leave you to your meditation."
The Exile made her way to leave, but stopped just short of the door.
"I wanted you to know why I was leaving. It's nothing serious."
Pink. It seeped out of the Exile, contaminating the air between them. Visas' mind rapidly skimmed over everything she knew about Urela Toral. The Exile resisted the Dark side. Even when Revan and Malak were seduced, she had returned to Dantooine to face the council. Urela accepted her punishment without incident.
"There is someone I need to find…"
The milky pink bathed the Exile in a fog as she clicked her nails alongside the hilt of her lightsaber. Visas remembered hearing the gentle click-tap-clicking sound while Urela pored over the schematics of Queen Talia's palace late into the night with the Mandalorian. And again when she had been engrossed in a high stakes game of Pazaak with the pilot, Atton Rand. It occurred to Visas that Urela tapped her lightsaber when she was lost in thought. Planning her next move.
It was a subconscious quirk and so utterly human.
While serving her former Master, the Miraluka had ample opportunity to observe that as a species, humans were weak creatures. Easily driven to commit acts of violence and depravity. Lustful. Vain. Selfish. Cowardly. And so, to Visas, the Exile was not human. She was authentic. Warm. Honest. Blue.
Not Human. Not Pink.
After a flurry of faint lightsaber tapping, the Exile spoke again.
"I have a lead I need to chase down. I'll return as soon as possible."
"Wh-Why are you not being honest with me?" Visas stuttered. Her face flushed red with the embarrassment of her outburst. She struggled to center herself with the Force. To dissipate her fear, she repeated the Jedi code in her head. "I had no right to question you. My life, for yours…"
The Exile reached out her hand to the Miraluka.
"I wasn't lying to you, Visas. I was… trying to distance myself from you. From Atton and Bao, Mira and the others." Her voice was low and strained. "I'm sure you've felt that Kreia is no longer with us."
Visas bowed her head. She could hear the grief catch in the Exile's voice when she spoke the crone's name.
"I am sorry for the loss of your Master."
In truth, Visas did not care for the old woman. Kreia had been a too complicated for the Miraluka's tastes. She did not follow the beliefs of the Jedi, nor was she entirely Sith. Kreia was a contradiction, unassigned to either the Dark or the Light. In the Miraluka's eyes, this made her a messy liability. Not Black. Not White. Grey. Untrustworthy.
The Exile nodded, accepting the condolences of her apprentice.
"Before Kreia died, she spoke a great deal about what is to come. I was not blessed with her gift of sight. Had that gift been mine, perhaps some of what occurred might have been prevented." The Exile spoke quickly now, the burden of her secret spilling out of her easily. "Kreia said that we have not yet faced the true Sith. According to her, our enemy is gathering strength beyond the Outer Rim and Revan went to face that threat alone."
Visas felt her stomach tighten at the mention of the former Dark Lord's name. Urela continued: "Kreia was clear about why Revan went alone. Revan knew that where she was going— she could not take those she loved."
Urela leaned in to Visas. "I must find Revan and I must also go alone. Do you understand?"
Visas shook her head. "I will go with you. My life, for yours…"
The Exile smiled sadly.
"It's not that I don't want your company, but where I am going— I can't bring the people I care about." There was an awkward beat of silence, which the Exile rushed to fill: "So, I thought— I might take Atton with me…"
The Miraluka did not respond, prompting the Exile to add quickly: "That was a joke, Visas."
The Miraluka nodded. "A joke. Yes. I understand."
Urela would often tease the others when their situation became ominous and the ship's pilot was her target of choice. Urela looked out in the direction of the cockpit before flatly admitting: "I guess it wasn't funny."
The Miraluka shook her head. "It was humorous. Ironic. You said: you would take Atton with you, implying that you do not care for him, when in fact, you care very much for him."
The Exile sat up straight. "I don't care very much for him…"
Humor had been foreign concept to the Miraluka before joining the crew of the Ebon Hawk. After a particularly rough landing on Nar Shadaa, Visas was horrified when she heard Urela tell the Mandalorian that they should sell their useless pilot to cover the docking fee.
She had been further upset when the others laughed heartily at the suggestion. The Zabrak, Bao-Dur, had sensed the Miraluka's discomfort and explained that for humans, the ritual of humor in tense situations was a form of bonding.
Indeed, through the Force, she was able to see the physical ties between Urela and the rest of her comrades. Each hardship, each victory, each of their many setbacks, added strength to their collective bond.
"I need your help, Visas. I am leaving tomorrow and I must go without telling the others."
Visas reacted as if she had been stung. "I would do anything for you… my life is yours, but are you asking me to keep this a secret from the others?"
The Exile moved closer to the Miraluka. "I appreciate fully the difficulty of the task I am giving you. Please understand that I am giving you this task because I trust you to let me go."
Visas moved to stand. She would not allow her master to face their unseen enemy alone. She would inform Mira. Mira would make Urela see that it was reckless to search for Revan by herself. But, the Exile was quicker. She moved in front of the door, blocking Visas' path.
"I can't trust the others to stay behind. They feel they must protect me."
Urela took Visas by the hand and lead her away from the door. When she spoke again her voice was hushed. Urgent. "If I leave Mira a single clue as to my location, she will track me like a rabid kath hound and Kreia has said that there are others who will need her protection. Mira will commit a selfless act and many innocent lives will be saved because of her bravery. This can only happen if she stays behind. If she does not follow me."
Visas meditated on this bit of information and her resolve flickered before it grew stronger. Perhaps Mira was not the ideal choice to stop Urela, but Bao-Dur, the tech who had served her since the Mandalorian wars; surely he would make her see reason. Urela read the Miraluka's thoughts and when she spoke again, her voice was calm, but firm:
"Bao-Dur has not yet accepted he is a Jedi. The atrocity he and I committed at Malachor V causes him to struggle with the Force. He is afraid of his power. Afraid that accepting that power might mean he could be responsible for something even worse than Malachor V. Bao-Dur must complete his training. If he does, then both the Order and the Republic will have a new champion."
The Exile's reasoning made sense. If Visas could not argue logic with Urela, than she would need the Mandalorian. Mandalore could stop Urela. Literally. He might be the only one who could knock some sense into her and win or lose… the Mandalorian would certainly relish the challenge.
The Exile gently entered the Miraluka's thoughts. "Mandalore already has his orders and they come directly from Revan. She has asked him to gather his clan and prepare them for battle. I think she intends to use their strength to attack the Sith."
The Exile's words were like a sedative. Visas needed to tell someone Urela was leaving. She couldn't argue with Urela alone. Urela respected Mical. They had known each other at the Academy. It was Mical who taught Urela to meditate. Mical was smart. Mical…
"Yes, Mical is smart and he has grown strong. Fighting alongside him now I have a hard time believing he was once that nervous kid on Dantooine, but Mical's place is back on Dantooine. The Jedi Order has been broken. He is the only choice to replace Atris. Through Mical, the history and teachings of the Jedi will be chronicled for the next generation."
Despite her training, fear took hold of the Miraluka. Was Kreia marking the Exile for certain doom by insisting she search for Revan alone? Pulling unseen strings from beyond the grave to exact revenge only she could see? Again, the Exile entered the Miraluka's thoughts.
"I won't be going alone. The droids will come with me. I believe T3 will lead me to Revan and with HK around— I'll have more than my fill of sparkling conversation."
Another joke. Urela was taking the hateful assassin droid who would probably murder her in her sleep and she was making light of it.
"And Atton?" Visas asked.
The Miraluka felt a shadow fall over the Exile.
"What about him?" Urela's tone made it clear he was not a subject she wished to discuss, but Visas pressed the Exile further.
"What did Kreia have to say about him?"
"The usual. That he was a fool and the Force would watch out for him because he was a fool."
The ship's engines caught for a moment before whirring back to life and both women fell immediately silent as though they had been caught gossiping. The Exile chuckled under her breath.
"It gives me some satisfaction knowing wherever Kreia is now— it's her responsibility to watch out for him. Protect him from himself. Maybe she's even been assigned to Atton personally."
Visas smiled in spite of herself. Neither Kreia nor Atton would be very happy with that arrangement.
Urela tapped her lightsaber faintly. When she spoke again, Visas was aware that Urela was choosing her words carefully.
"I can't take him with me. I can't go after the Sith if my first priority is protecting him… which it isn't… I mean…he's not my first priority. He can't be."
Visas would later tell Bao-Dur that she had observed humans using humor for more than just bonding purposes. Humor, she had suggested, could also be used as a cover. A person might behave in a teasing manner to create a diversion or relationship sleight-of-hand.
Many times she had witnessed Atton fall all over himself, trying to curry Urela's favor and then— within moments and with no provocation— verbally attack her. Urela had been guilty of the same twisted advances. Aggravating Atton, teasing him and then feigning disinterest whenever he rose to accept her bait. All of it was a complex ruse to protect their dangerous feelings. Visas could feel the conflict well up in her master.
"He will go after you."
"Maybe."
The Miraluka bowed her head. She couldn't be sure but she thought she detected a note of hope in her master's voice.
"My destiny is to follow you. My life, for yours…"
"No, Visas. Your destiny belongs to you," Urela smiled as she shook her head. "Kreia had much to say about your future. The others… their paths were in shadow. But when she mentioned you, I could see everything. Your future is lovely and I am happy to send you in search of it."
Visas could hear the others in the next room. The HK droid was pestering Bao-Dur about upgrades to his assassination protocols. Mira was gloating about winning Atton's last few credits. Mical was humming the song he always hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening.
Perhaps they were all still feeling the after-effects of their miraculous escape from Malachor V, but each of them sounded happy.
"I do not think I am capable of deceiving the others." Visas said finally.
"Are you questioning orders?" The Exile asked.
The Miraluka's face contorted in a mask of hurt. Her face, neck and arms blushed crimson.
"Visas, I'm kidding. I didn't mean to upset you."
"Upset me?" Visas repeated. Her face still matched her scarlet hood.
"Yes. I should know better." Urela sighed. "When you tease someone like that— it's all in fun, but you can end up hurting the people you care about. You should have permission first. Consent. It's important."
The Miraluka leaned back, letting her master's calm voice wash over her for what she knew might be the last time. Listening with her skin. Basking in the Exile's safe, Blue voice.
"Some people you meet, you know immediately you have their okay. There's a connection between you. An understanding. I was always careful around you because you're delicate, Visas. Not fragile or breakable exactly - just delicate. I guess I just needed your permission."
And in that moment, Visas realized why the Exile had come to visit her. Urela wished to say goodbye and thank-you. She wanted to express to Visas that her life would now be her own to do with as she pleased. And beyond all of that, the Exile needed the Miraluka's permission. Urela understood that Visas would be the only one who might tell her it would be okay to leave them all behind. Visas, above all the others, might see and understand that Urela was trying to do the right thing by sneaking away to search for Revan alone.
And when Visas realized this, she could not deny the Exile her consent. It was a small thing – a contract, not between master and apprentice, but between comrades. Friends.
It is always give and take in all things. Visas learned that lesson from the Force long ago. Because of the Force, everything Visas knew and loved as a child was taken from her. But the Force brought Visas to Urela and the others. It was the Force that gave her blind eyes sight.
It is always give and take in all things.
And so Visas gave Urela her blessing to search for Revan beyond the Outer Rim. She agreed to keep the Exile's departure a secret and she promised to deliver the holovids Urela had made for each member of the crew and then she bid her master farewell. Visas listened as Urela walked down the hall to say good night to the others.
Mira and Atton were still cheerfully cheating each other at cards. Bao-Dur was doing his best to ignore HK as he adjusted the T3 droid with a custom upgrade. Mandalore was teaching Mical to make stimulants and recounting old war stories.
Each of them was completely wrapped up in their own affairs and absolutely certain Urela would be with them in the morning. They did not realize that when the Exile said good night, she was really saying goodbye.