More fluff. It has nothing to do with religion. I just like that quote from the Book of Judas and thought it would be appropriate.


" . . . I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent for ever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it."

- Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

"Lift up your eyes and look at the cloud and the light within it and the stars surrounding it. The star that leads the way is your star."

- The Book of Judas

The ship moving through the upper layers of atmosphere was a small one, a smooth one. It didn't attract attention, nor did it have any defense or remarkable speed like the Ebon Hawk. And it didn't have nearly as many passengers as the smuggling ship, but it did have two who had flown and would fly on it again. The ship reached the ground and smoothly landed, a drop of rain sliding down the surface.

The door opened and the passengers rested their feet on the ground. Or one did. The Jedi Exile firmly planted his boots on the surface of the planet. And from that moment, he could feel the wound, could feel the death and necromantic energy lacing the very air. It was much like space; it didn't suppress life, but it did not support it either. He was uneasy, but that was why they were here, to be sure.

The other passenger stood up and looked over the barren world. And she wanted to cry, wanted to nestle in the Exile's arms like a drowning man on a raft. She could see nothing, nothing but a dark, dark gray everywhere, except for the Exile. He looked as she had always seen him, as he was. He burned like a sapphire flame there. He offered her his hand, and slowly, Visas Marr gingerly slipped on to the surface of Kattar.

She trembled there, holding his hand. Her legs could barely support her on this planet. Slowly, the Exile wrapped his arm around her shoulders and asked, "Are you alright? I know this is hard for you, but if you want to leave, we could-"

"No, I'm fine. It's just been…it's just been so long."

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" The Miraluka only smiled at her lover and kissed him on the cheek. "Yes. Do you have the seed?"

"Right here." The Exile reached into his robes and pulled out a small, krayt-skin bag. Inside was the seed to a single plant, a gift from Moza and Chodo Habat. "Do you know where you want to plant it?" the Exile asked.

"Yes. I've been thinking about it ever since you agreed to come with me. Just promise me that you will help."

"Of course." He said in a tender voice. The Exile quickly placed the bag back into his robes. And, hand in hand, the two lovers walked along the surface of Kattar to the little valley near their landing spot. The Exile looked about at the mountains all across the landscape. A part of him wanted to see the ocean, just to see that much lifeless water in one place, so grim and eternal. But even more of him wanted to see fish in it.

At last, the duo reached the valley, and passed a small set of gates. Visas' aura darkened with sadness when she saw them, and plummeted more when she at last saw her home. A stagnant river ran through the city. Dead trees lay all around the town, with deceased brown vines still clinging to the walls of the buildings. The architecture was rounded, unique and distinct, curling into the sky and reaching into the world. Some of the buildings made the Exile think of the Jedi Temple back on Coruscant, and others made him think of astro-mech droids. In the distance, there were yet more dull-steel mountains scraping into the heavens, and the firmament was pale and empty.

Visas took in a sharp gasp. Her breathing labored, and she held on to the Exile's arm tighter than ever. This was her home, her town, her father's world. The weight of her suffering came upon her and she felt the need to rest, to simply not move. The seer began to fall. The Exile held on to her and guided her to a stone bench to sit on. It all felt so familiar to him, like Kreia at the courtyard on Dantooine, or the first time he met Atris. "Visas? Sweetheart?" He pleaded.

"I…I…I played on this landing when I was a little girl. I used to race to the fence and back with my friends after our morning meditations. That river down there… sometimes we swam in it or tried to catch fish. My house is next to it. Do you see? The small one, right there." She pointed her slim hand to one of the domed structures, a smaller one with a stairway leading to a dock on the river.

The Exile asked, "Do you want to-"

"Yes. In fact, that is where we need to go. My father had a little garden next to the window. I think the plant would grow fine there."

"Sure thing. Lead the way."

"Hold me." Visas asked as she began to rise to her feet, pregnant with memories of the before. She felt the need for a cane, a walking stick, and was comforted when the Exile grasped her instead. In time, she departed from him and stood up straight, moving her feet over cracked granite. She still held his hand, however, and refused to let go.

They moved through the deserted halls and walkways. A wind blew through windows and cracks, singing an ephemeral requiem for the lost. The sun, already hiding behind the mountains, cast an orange glow from beyond the earthen peaks. Shadows of pillars stoically presided over the walls. And between them two more columns moved like birds through the clouds. Visas and the Exile walked, the oracle passing her hands over the walls, every now and then petting a vine, but never ceasing to lead her cavalier.

In time, the two came upon a crossing in the road. Visas' home was not more than a hundred feet away by one route, an open tunnel with columns lacing the right side. The other path led up the side of the mountain a bit, through a few more houses, and then converged on the end of the other road. The Exile began to move forward, not at all wondering why Visas did not follow at first. He felt her hand tighten in his, and she remained rooted to the spot. Her breathing quickened terribly, and she gasped for every last bit of air. The Exile could feel her aura heighten in panic. He looked down the tunnel and saw nothing there. Visas looked and saw Death himself.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, Darth Nihilus only remained, looking at her, watching Visas through his gluttonous mask. The Sith Lord of Hunger reached into his black robes and pulled out his light-saber. Unsheathing it, the crimson blade highlighted the white of his visor. He began to move forward, his long legs shuffling under his robes and forcing him closer by the second. Visas felt light-headed, and then all she saw was black, even the Exile fading.

Visas fainted, and the Exile caught her in his arms. Before she totally lost consciousness, he heard her whisper, "Promise me…to never…go that way." And then she collapsed in his embrace. The Exile looked down the hallway one more time, just in case he missed something. Still, there was nothing there. He directed his attention to the long path ahead of him, up and down the mountain. He sighed and really wondered if it mattered. To be sure, Visas was unconscious…

But something kept nagging in him. Maybe it was the way she curled into his bed just right, maybe it was how she never questioned him, or maybe it was how, despite him repeatedly telling her to stop, she still greeted him every morning by saying, "My life for yours." Either way, the Exile hitched the unconscious Visas into his arms and began the long ascent. He grumbled the whole time, as despite being smaller than the Exile, Visas was still heavy as dead weight. It was semi-worth it when he reached the top and looked at the splendid decay of the valley; the towers, the trees, the orange flowing into the water from the sun. The descent was much easier, and the Exile at last reached the home of his beloved. The door was open, still as fresh as the day Nihilus came.

"Honey, I'm home." The Exile whispered to the silence. He walked inside and searched until he found a bed. The Exile lay Visas down, removed her shoes, and laid them at the foot of the bed. He then spent some time looking through the house. It was dusty, to say the least. The architecture, like the rest of Katarr, was rounded and smooth. A lone futon kept its vigil over the den. Shrines to the force were here and there, as well as some shelves of books. The upper rooms consisted of the bedrooms (the one Visas rested in was a guest room). One had a single bed, another a twin bed for two. Each room had a prayer mat in it for meditation, isolated by shelves or small walls to form a little cloister. But the main decorations were the pots and jars and vases all around. At one point, flowers and small trees had grown in them, but now all that was left was grime.

The Exile walked downstairs again. He found a broom lying among rubble in the kitchen. For a while, he swept the floors out of sheer boredom, tired, and put the broom away. He checked in on Visas once more. The Exile lifted up a small chair, placed it next to the bedside, kicked off his boots, and sat down. And as he meditated, the Exile slowly but surely drifted to sleep…

The Exile awoke when he felt something move on his hand. The light of dawn shined through the window. Looking down, he saw Visas' palm laying on his own. She was smiling at him and whispered, "My life for yours."

"I wish you'd stop saying that." He protested. She only pulled on his arm and drew him closer. At that, she thrust her lips on his for a moment before releasing him. He grinned and asked, "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough. Come, it is time." Visas removed herself from bed, slipped on her shoes, and walked through her house quickly, trying to avoid the gorgon gaze of nostalgia. She led the Exile through the house back to the room where her parents had slept long ago. There, just as she remembered, just as preserved and perfect as always, was a small window-side plot of dirt.

"Hand me the seed." The oracle ordered. The Exile reached into his robes and brought out the pouch, placing it in Visas' hand. She untied the knot and turned the pouch upside down. One solitary, small yellow seed fell on the soil. Visas dug a tiny grave for it with her hand and rested it there. She began to place the soil back, and felt the Exile cup her hands in his own. Together, they planted the seed into the dirt. And even afterwards, the stood there next to each other, hand in hand.

"How long will it take to grow?" Visas asked. "Moza said this was a common plant back on his home world. A week, maybe two. So what are we doing 'till then?"

"We wait." The seer said. She went back downstairs, sat on the bed, and began to meditate. The Exile followed, sitting next to her, watching her breathe through their own eyes.

The next few days were quiet ones. Visas and the Exile spent their days in meditation or cleaning the house. Every once and a while, one would go off without the other to explore. They were rarely involved in anything more intimate. Sometimes they would kiss and embrace before guilt would force them off each other. There was just something off about passion on a graveyard world…

And no matter how hard she tried, Visas could never go down the corridor outside her house. Sometimes she could force her way in a few feet, but then sheer terror drove her back like a child in the dark. Nihilus was THERE, waiting for her, she just knew it. And nothing could force Visas through that path, no matter the inconvenience.

Tensions were high in the household. The plant was always being checked on, for water, for sunlight, or just to see if it had sprouted yet. Because this plant was the single most important organic on the planet. If it could grow, if it could so much as sprout from the ground, then there was hope. Hope for Katarr, hope for the Galaxy, hope for the Force.

And so it was one day that two miracles happened. Visas had gone out to walk and make peace with little bits of her past. It was starting to near dark and once more, the shadows of pillars and sky-capped towers presided over the valley. Walking out of what was once the house of one of her friends, she heard a shout from the other side of the valley. There, on the balcony of her home, the Exile hollered and waved for her to return. He threw his arms to the air and spread them, meaning only one thing. The plant had sprouted!

And Visas ran as fast as her legs could take her in her soft skirt. Through halls and tunnels, through gardens and homes, Visas raced past a series of pillars in a corridor to find herself almost home. And then, Visas realized it; she gone through the corridor with Nihilus in it. And now that she was at the end, the Sith Lord of Hunger had not appeared. Visas turned around quickly, just to be sure, and only to confirm her worst fears.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, Nihilus dispassionately watched the Miraluka. And then, something happened, something Visas, in her blind wisdom, couldn't have foreseen. Nihilus reached his hand to his head and pulled off his mask before throwing it into the river below. He only whispered "Goodbye" in Mandalorian before he exploded into ethereal Naboo King-Fishers that flew into nowhere.

Visas, feeling more at peace than ever, ascended the stairs into her father's room. The Exile stood in front of the shelf with the plant smiling, and Visas dashed beside him. Lying there, fresh as creation, a sprout gave off a faint gray aura. It was technically more of a weed than anything, which is why it grew so fast, but nonetheless, it had grown. And hope broke through the ground with it. Visas wanted to weep for joy, and the Exile couldn't stop smiling. "Isn't it beautiful?" he asked her.

"It is the most fantastic thing I have ever seen." She replied. They stood there for a while, watching the wind move the sprout and the shadows morph around it. At some point, Visas departed and moved towards the bed. She took off her veil and lay down, making sure to accentuate her body. The Exile turned around just in time for Visas to toss her veil at him. She smiled with a pulsing aura, and the Exile grinned back. There had never been such a blatant invitation to the boudoir from his beloved…

A few hours later, with darkness descended upon Katarr, Visas and the Exile lay naked next to each other. Visas felt a minor twinge of shame. She wasn't sure what came over her; one minute she was placid, simply meditating on that little plant, the next, she was in a storm of kisses, nibbling, and sucking of the most carnal kind. She failed to understand that this was that mysterious thing known as 'youth', which Visas often forgot that she had. The two happy lovers lay next to each other, slick as otters in each other's sweat. The Exile had fallen asleep next to Visas, but she remained awake, the sheets half-covering her exposed form.

For a minute, an hour, a year, Visas stared at the little speck of gray that was the plant. And then, then something happened.

A star appeared.

Visas wasn't supposed to see the stars; she was a Miraluka after all. But there it was, a speck of light floating in the sky. And then there was another, and another, and yet another. Until at last the firmament was filled with the angel tears of a thousand suns.

And what happened next, none could say.

None but Kreia, that is. She said it perfectly.

It was there that Visas saw what she needed to see.

It was there that Visas saw the truth.

The Exile would awaken to his dearest panting for breath, sitting up in bed. She wouldn't speak for another eight hours, and that would be only after she fell asleep. But for now, the Exile only lay there and held Visas in his arms, kissing her brow and caressing the flow of black hair.