[A/N: This chapter is the other half of chapter 6 of "Scoundrel's Honor." Also: thank you, SeriousSubwayFlirting!]
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I feel a second presence that snaps me out of my meditation state. I blink a few times, frowning in confusion.
Master Kavar sits a few feet across from me in the center of the elaborate chamber, mirroring my meditative pose.
Kavar, the only master that was repeatedly willing to take me in for a time after every other one would leave or simply drop me. One of the very few masters who never eyed me suspiciously in the corridors because of my...gift.
"Meetra," he says as his eyes flicker open to study me. He smiles fondly, and I feel my lips curve of their own accord.
He stands fluidly, and I do the same.
"You've returned."
"Yes. Of course I have," I reply. "I've ended the war," the words leave my lips automatically, without the courtesy of asking my brain's permission first.
"So I've heard," he grins, and my heart lifts at his proud tone. "The Masters have sent me to tell you: we were wrong to question your decision."
"You...what?"
"The Council. We'd like to have you back. I'd like to have you back."
"I don't understand," I frown blankly.
"Don't you remember?" he asks, taking a step forward. "Once, we were close. More than that." I think back as his fingers tuck a damp strand of dark hair behind my ear. His fingers linger at my cheek, trailing promises of an intimacy that I can't remember.
The ghostly feel of his hand on my face clicks something in my mind, and I realize everything here is wrong.
"No," I say, swatting his hand away and backing up. He takes a step forward, reaching for my arm. I slip away, eluding his grasp. "You're wrong. You're not him. This never- this isn't how it happened." I brush my hand over the handle of my lightsaber, waiting for the right moment.
"I've only come to welcome you home, Meetra," this copy of Kavar claims, following my movements with piercing eyes. Ari, I have to remind myself. My name is Ari now. "Did I mean so little to you?"
"The opposite, actually," I admit to myself. He meant more than I could ever bring myself to admit. "But he judged me like the rest," I remember, as if through a thick haze. I study his face as his demeanor changes within a few seconds. It's then that I realize it's not a perfect copy; his eyes are just barely the wrong shade of blue and his hair-
The doppelganger's lightsaber ignites without warning, and mine is instinctively in my hand a half second later.
"Let's get this over with," I say, mind clear and ready to face another one of my demons in this damned tomb.
"You were always too quick to act," he says, as our 'sabers twirl and clash against each other. I spin out of the way before his stabs me in the gut. "Mediocre with the Force, relying on your bonds with the others to reinforce your own-"
I bring my saber crashing into his head with a shout and he disappears. I wipe the sweat from my face, panting and trying to force the anger from my mind. I shiver, despite the sweat covering my body.
This place is dark.
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"Atton?" I ask, disbelieving, seeing you standing a few yards away with your back to me. Despite myself, I feel my heart rate speed up just a little. "I told you to wait outside."
"I thought you could use some help," you shrug indifferently. You don't turn around just yet.
"Where is Mical?" I ask, taking a few steps closer. I feel something is off, and not just the fact that I haven't let you close to me since that night on Nar Shaddaa. Abruptly, you turn and close the gap between us.
Your hand wraps around my wrist, forcing me against the wall, your lips taking my mouth hostage, a forceful kiss that almost scares me as my heart jumps into my throat.
"Meetra..." you growl harshly into my mouth.
Your other hand grasps my chin, strong enough to leave a bruise.
It's nothing like what I felt with you in the cantina just a few weeks ago.
With my free hand, I ignite my lightsaber and it pierces through your abdomen.
You disappear in a wisp of smoke, leaving me by myself, breathing heavily. The taste of fresh blood is on my tongue and when I raise a hand to my lip, it comes back spotted with a few droplets of red.
It wasn't you.
Its eyes were more yellow than green, and lacking that wary, shielding gaze. Its was skin more sallow than pale.
I shiver, remembering the cold darkness in his eyes.
It seems I've met Jaq.
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"This is all your fault!" I scream at the robed figure in front of me as I slash wildly with my 'saber.
He parries my every stroke easily but doesn't give me the satisfaction of replying to my accusations.
"If- you'd- only- just- fracking- stayed-" I choke out between my attempts at striking him. His mask remains emotionless and it irks me that I can't even remember what he looked like before the wars. He could have been a woman and none of his followers would have ever realized.
I only get near enough to stab him once, and let out a cry of despair when he vanishes into the chilly air. I drop my lightsabers and all but collapse to the ground with a hand to my mouth, bile threatening to rise in my throat. I hear my 'sabers clatter against the stone as they roll away from me.
I bite on my knuckles and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to both vomit and sob.
"So you're what survived the loss of the Force?" A voice interrupts my breakdown. "I'm hardly impressed."
I open my eyes and look up into a vaguely familiar face peering down at me.
Her eyes are metallic and her dark hair more elaborately plaited than I remember it being.
"You're not real," I swallow nauseously, challenging her. She only laughs, a calculating chuckle that makes the room grow even colder.
"Get up," she growls, grabbing a handful of my hair until I'm eye level with her. "Weak." She releases me, looking disgusted. "To think, you used to be the General."
Meetra was the General. Meetra had a double-bladed lightsaber, silver like the waters in the Room of a Thousand Fountains on Coruscant.
"I'm Ari."
I have a viridian lightsaber [that reminds me of your eyes] and a violet one for my off-hand.
"Tell me, Ari. What are you going to do when this is over? Change your name again? Where will you run to this time? You have no one."
"I have-" I attempt to argue, but have to stop myself. Your name comes to mind, but I quickly remind myself that you were never a guarantee, never a permanent fixture or any sort of stability.
"No one. Or did you think anyone could actually care about someone like you? Meetra Surik, Force-crippled ex-Jedi," she laughs cruelly. "Do you truly believe they follow you out of love?" she mocks, circling me. "And the pilot? A nice, quick frack, that's all you'll ever be to him, you pathetic little fool."
"I'm Ari," I correct her.
"Then prove it," she snipes, drawing her 'saber. She steps away to kick mine towards my feet and I pick them up.
Her double-bladed 'saber ignites in a blinding flash of silver as she twirls it menacingly.
I ignite mine in turn but hesitate to go at her.
How can I destroy the only part of me that makes any sense?
"You can't do it, can you?" Meetra smugly taunts. "Let me make it easy for you." She approaches and I point my viridian lightsaber at her throat.
She walks up as close as she can without it piercing her neck. I don't move.
"Do it. Kill me, exile," Meetra commands. I don't move. Her face twists into a horrible, leering grin. "Kill me and this ends. Kill me. Kill. Me," she hisses, repeating the phrase until I can no longer hear myself think.
Kill me.
I blackout.