When the Sky Falls

Chapter 9

They were hiding things from her.

She tried not to feel crushed, but it was hard and she failed miserably. So many things had gone wrong, so much of her body and mind felt wrong. Her skin was dark and dry, and she kept remembering the other Jedi stating how the Dark Side corruption shows in the form of enhanced aging and decay. 'Like they were sick with a plague,' They had said. Maybe the Sith felt sick too. Yiding often did. Her memories felt tainted, interspersed with the stuff of nightmares so that even happy, innocent times turned into sickening torture.

How long had it been since her escape and rescue? It felt simultaneously like forever and an instant. How long will her companions continue to be patient with her? Atton promised he would never abandon her, but despite everything she did know that if she continued on like this, with no hope of improvement, he would get tired of her. She was already tired of herself. She was supposed to lead them, to resolve this galactic crisis, but now they were hiding things from her. Was it because she had been corrupted by the Dark Side? They did not trust her? She felt so filthy, her very body like a disease that no amount of showering could wash away. Meanwhile people were dying, others might be suffering the same fate she had, with no hope of escape or rescue, and she was taking forever to collect her wits together.

She tried. She tried to rationalize what was happening to her, to her mind, but she felt like a completely different person from who she was before, and the person she became was abhorrent and pathetic. She was ugly and mental and weak and defiled and she had no idea how to change it. How long ago was it that she use to be in control, at least of her body and mind, if nothing else? She longed for the days when she was in the créche and her future had been so full of hope and glory. A Jedi did not seek glory, but no one had ever said they must reject it. Glory was a beautiful thing. Hope was a beautiful thing.

"Where the hell are the others? Was there any word from Mical? Why aren't you people telling me what you're planning?"

"Nothing is wrong," Atton insisted, and Yiding felt her temper explode.

"Stop lying to me!" She cried out, "This isn't me digging into your secrets or your personal history! I've been to Nar Shaddaa! You were krething here with me! It doesn't take seven hours to buy groceries for dinner! And who were we running from? What planet was Mical stranded on?" She seized herself and pulled her hands up to stifle her sob, wondering if she looked completely ridiculous and out of control. Force, what have I become? Have I become the monster Sion was trying to make me? "You can just tell me if you don't want my input," Her voice cracked into a whimper, "I know you don't have faith in me anymore, but I'm worried, I'm worried and please—this is all my fault, if something happened to them it's all my fault and I have to do something—"

Mandalore groaned. "Look, she's asking for some responsibility at this point. I think she knows what she wants."

"No she doesn't," Visas fairly snapped, "She is merely use to carrying everyone's burdens in spite of her own health."

"She's right here, you know," Atton drawled, "And totally listening to everything you're saying, which, by the way, is not exactly making her feel better."

"A good leader," Kreia reminded Yiding, "Knows when to step back and let things unfold. You use to remember what it means to allocate duties."

Yiding sniffled. "It's all my fault," She blinked more tears, "I should have sensed something was wrong in that cave—the Dark Side was thick and I—I didn't want Mical and Atton to get hurt so I went after Master Vash by myself thinking that I could handle it better on my own—I was so stupid," She broke into wails as anguish poured from her. Atton's arms tightened around her to the point of physical pain, but it did not ease the pressure in her heart. "I-I was afraid the D-Dark Side would mess with their h-heads—I-I th-thought it wouldn't m-mess with mine because I f-felt it before and-and it d-didn't then, b-but it could mess with my senses and I-I d-didn't s-sense any-any of th-them unt-til th-they were pr-practically in front of my face—and it was too l-late. It was too late. I m-might as-as well have h-handed m-myself to the S-Sith on a s-silver p-platter. I-I m-might as w-well j-just dr-draw the l-lights-saber on m-myself and-and s-save th-the S-Sith the tr-trouble."

T3M4 whirred in concern. Kreia moved from her chair and knelt in front of Yiding, who tensed, wondering what the old woman would do with this confession. The crone lifted her hands and gently tilted Yiding's face up, her fingers dry and wrinkled but warm and gentle.

"You were led to a trap," Said Kreia, "One you had to spring, one way or another. It was a battle you were not ready for, but we do not always get to choose our battles, or their timing. The situation was far more complicated than you articulated. I know, because I saw it, and I was unable to warn you because by the time I did, it was too late." Dry thumbs wiped at her tears. "Your judgment was never in question, Exile, but for now, you must realize you are in no shape to take part in what happens to us, or the galaxy. It is not because you failed—it is because for now, you must slow down. For now, you are not a Jedi, nor are you the hope of the galaxy." Yiding's lip quivered at this, but Kreia pressed her forehead against hers, the hood of her robe soft between their skin. "Your precise condition is unprecedented, but we all sense your fighting spirit. You will recover. Trust that, if nothing else."

Kreia was not the most affectionate person, but Yiding always felt comforted whenever the old woman praised her or soothed her, even if intellectually she knew that Kreia had her own agendas she had never revealed. There was always the sense that the woman cared for her, and because Yiding cared for Kreia, she cared very much for that sentiment.

"I feel changed," She whispered, "I'm scared that they did something to me—to my mind, to my body, to my heart. I'm scared I'm going to turn into someone like Sion."

"No," Said Kreia, and Yiding felt Atton's arms squeeze her again, though he said nothing.

"What if I never go back to the way I was?"

"You will never go back," Kreia stated, "But perhaps that is for the best; you were certainly not as perfect as you could have been. The pain will ease, however, as all pains do, and you will grow from this, knowing what the Dark Side is capable of, and you will face it as a greater opponent, as will the rest of us."

Yiding sniffled. "How can I face it if I'm so scared of it?"

Kreia moved away but cupped her face more securely.

"Perhaps you should be afraid," Said the old woman, "The Sith were never easy foe. Perhaps, if you misjudged at all, it was that you underestimated the power they wield. It is no matter, for you have survived, and in this your compassion," She said the word with the derision she always did, "May serve you well, for if you are afraid, then you know the danger they present to the rest of the galaxy. And you will overcome it, for the sake of others, as you always have."

Yiding sniffled again. "I'm still worried about Mira and the others. And Mical."

"Perhaps it is not that we should have more faith in you," Kreia pointed out, "But you should have more faith in us."

Since Yiding was already convinced that something bad had happened, at least they did not have to tip-toe around the subject of Mira, Brianna, and Bao-Dur. Atton hacked his comm. link and tried to figure out how to track Bao-Dur's remote while Yiding helped a little and offered suggestions, though mostly she just watched. The Sith at least did not mess up her intelligence; she was still as good a lock-picker and hacker and engineer as she always was. Provided that her hands did not shake too much.

Mandalore grumbled about going out to find them, especially since all of them were hungry at this point, but the old witch firmly rejected the idea. Atton could not complain; he could probably protect Yiding with Kreia and Visas, but sending Mandalore out would cause them to have to worry about if something happened to him.

There was still the matter of food though. There were vending machines in the hall, so Mandalore went to get some snacks, at least for the Exile, who was starting to fuss a little. Starvation was one memory Atton wanted to eliminate from Yiding's brain; she was still very skinny, even if she was no longer emaciated, and her pinched expression held a haunted look that indicated some sort of flashback.

Mandalore came back with something sweet for Yiding, showing that the warrior was pretty observant, if nothing else. Yiding looked like a child when she was eating, and finished the candy bar in several quick gulps. She wanted another one but was too shy to ask for it, and Atton did not help her; he did not think this sufficed as real food, and it could hurt her stomach.

She leaned against him when bored but not tired enough to sleep. She needed a lot of tactile reassurance, something she seemed as confused about as everyone else; the old Yiding was never so clingy or needy, but from what she had been raging about, it seemed like she could no longer help giving into her impulses now, and would often seek his contact or request hugs. Atton let her, enjoying the closeness. He had never been so close to anyone before. Certainly, he had been intimate with a fair collection of women, but he had never been close to them, had never stayed till morning, or really touched or allowed touch that had no sexual intention. There was something more vulnerable, somehow, in letting Yiding snuggle against him, embrace him from behind, press her face against his, because there was nothing more to the touches than an offer of comfort and the request of the same in return, so strangely, it was easier to be hurt.

He would be every inch the fool Kreia accused him of being if he thought that Yiding would hurt him somehow, and every time she revealed this deep, profound trust in him, he felt something in him soften all the more. She was so clean and pristine, and her touch was soothing and heartwarming. She was still far too bony, but she was soft, in many ways more woman than all the women Atton had ever met. Holding her made Atton feel…good—like he was a good person, when he was with her. He could be a hero, a protector, a defender, with Yiding near him. It had always been this way, to a point—he had never allowed himself to get close to her before, but with her he was always different, a better man. Back then, however, she had never needed him quite as much as she did now, nor in the same way. Or perhaps she did, in the same way, but not to the extent she did now. If anything good came out of her captivity, it was that their relationship had spontaneously strengthened.

There was, of course, the matter of Kreia, but Atton sensed that the old woman would not do anything as long as Yiding was still so emotionally fragile. The old woman did care about the Exile, and she probably figured that what Atton was doing had more advantages than disadvantages. He was not sure how long this truce would last—Kreia was clearly displeased with how close they were, and he had no doubt that once Yiding recovered enough, she would threaten him to leave her alone so that nothing would weaken her precious Exile.

Atton was not sure what he would do in such a case, but for now, he could not bring himself to care.

"Where did you learn how to do all this?" Yiding asked innocently.

"Here and there," Which was somewhat true, though as an assassin Atton had been purposefully taught half of the tricks he knew. "What about you?"

"Here and there," Yiding echoed, but elaborated because she was the Exile and had nothing to hide, unlike the rest of them. "When I was an initiate, I use to steal parts for projects. Not real stealing, I'd just snatch parts no one else wanted. Everyone thought it was strange because usually boys like these sort of things more than girls, at least among humans. I would go around to all the padawans at the temple and ask for tips."

She must have been adorable as a young girl. "What sort of things did you make?"

"I never really completed a project," Said Yiding, "Not a real one, anyway. I made modifications on things, but I never finished something from scratch. I didn't have the attention-span when I was interested in such things, and then when I did I was no longer interested. It wasn't really encouraged either—I wasn't discouraged from it, exactly, but the Force and its ways were much more important than physical technology. I wanted to make a robot once, a droid like T3." She reached out to pat the droid's head. "I was halfway done when I hit an obstacle. I was six. Didn't have the patience to finish."

He paused to stroke her cheek affectionately. Her skin was a bit dry from malnutrition. She nuzzled his hand. He felt content.

"I want Mical," She murmured, killing his mood instantly. "He'd know if this is normal."

"If what's normal?"

"Me feeling uncomfortable."

Atton put down the tech to focus on her fully. "How are you uncomfortable?" Is it with me?

"I don't know," She rubbed her arms, "I feel jittery and tired but I can't seem to rest. I think I hurt but I'm not sure anymore."

Kreia frowned. When they first rescued her, Yiding had wailed that she hurt, apparently everywhere. The old woman approached her and Atton sensed her using the Force to sooth the young woman's body.

"She is stressed," Said the crone, as if no one else in the room had realized that by now.

The door suddenly clicked. Kreia and Visas had their lightsabers in hand instantly, and Mandalore was reaching for his weapon, but the sound was from a card key and the door opened to let in a disheveled Mira.

"Ran into some problems with my old associates," She said apologetically, "Would have commed, but we fell into a pool, so it fizzed out. Also lost our first batch of groceries." She stepped in, allowing Brianna and Bao-Dur, both damp, to enter. They were all carrying bags, so it seemed they went shopping again after falling into water.

Yiding struggled off the bed and wordlessly stumbled to Mira, hugging her desperately.

"Hey baby, we're back," Mira said fondly, unable to return the hug because she was still holding the bags. "Careful, we're a bit wet."

Brianna put hers down so that she could receive Yiding next, and though Bao-Dur was a bit shy about it, he embraced her firmly.

"I got cake ingredients," Said Mira, "But we also bought some instant foods. Were you all simply waiting here all this time? At this ridiculous hour? Good grief, Kreia! Here, Yiding, sit down and let me bring the stuff out for you."

Yiding was so relieved she was crying. "What happened? Are you all unhurt? You're all wet! You should get changed—I'll be alright, you don't have to do it yourself! Go to the refreshers!" And she staggered her way to the suitcases where the spare clothes were folded.

"Ah-ah, no no, Atton, Mandalore, you two sort the food. We'll get our own clothes, girl. Bao, you take the other room's shower and come back here. Brianna, you can go first in this one."

"Are you sure?" Brianna asked.

"I need to hurry and put some of the perishables in the fridge. Go."

T3M4 was also very excited at the return of their three companions, buzzing and whistling and beeping ecstatically as Mira opened the fridge to toss things in. Yiding was smiling widely, grabbing at her face. Atton went over to help unpack the goods. Some of the stuff was hot, and he put them on the table.

"Come here, beautiful," He declared, "Let's put some food in you." Brianna withdrew some spare robes and disappeared into the shower.

"Is that all there is?" Yiding asked in concern, "I don't think that's enough to feed everyone."

That was their Exile: always thinking of others.

"I'm cooking," Said Mira, "That's just for you. We didn't carry enough credits on us to buy more."

"I'll cook!" Yiding exclaimed, "You were out and got attacked, you must be tired," Despite the fact that she had earlier admitted to feeling tired herself.

Mira was exhausted, or else she probably would not have allowed Yiding to make her way to the counter. The rooms were each furnished with a tiny stove and workbench, and there was only room for one person to work at a time. The Exile turned over the groceries and uttered a sigh, as if struggling to stay focused.

"Exile," Mandalore called, "Perhaps you should eat first."

It was not possible for Yiding to protest the wisdom of this suggestion.

"Come here," Atton ordered, knocking his knuckles on the little table, "It's eat time."

Yiding was grinning as she sat down. "Feel much better now," She declared, as she picked up her utensils.