Note:

Okay, the entirity of this part is Varus. I wanted to flesh out some of his relationships and perception more after so long. It's been five years. He has done some growing up, but he still has things to work out, esspecially after hearing 'your mother' last time.

So let's get this show on the road!

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Episode 2 - Freedom for a Price Part 2/3


I used to love dreaming. They would be weird things like bears on hovercrafts chasing me because I slept in their bed or snakes that worked in jazz bands. I was a kid at the time. After I met Nihilus, my dreams took a morbidly dark and bloody turn for years.

For the next twenty years the only dream I liked were the empty ones. I would lay down, dream of nothingness, and wake up as if I never laid down. The days became seamless. Those were the good dreams, when I had none. After I lost my memory the dreams returned. I dreamed of stupid and weird things or I would have visions of my past that I wasn't completely sure about at the time. After I remembered and found myself in prison, the empty dreams returned.

My nightmares were left to my days, except today.

I walk down a street deep in the under-city of Coruscant. Nihilus is by my side. We are both wearing robes covering every feature of ourselves, so no one knows it's us. Nihilus is wearing a male host he picked up early on. There are no Jedi down here. This is the first time Nihilus has taken me off the Ravager. I wish I could say I found it… pleasant, but his ominous presence siphons what joy can take out of it.

He murdered my father, my mother, my family! I'm going to kill him. I can't yet, but I am counting the days.

"Look around you, Galen." Nihilus says with the man's voice. "Drug addicts. Gangs. Harlots. Slaves. Sex, slave, and drug traffickers. Murderers. Serial killers. Con artists. Thieves. Beggars. And the occasional cop."

"Good." I mutter.

"Ah! But the cops are bought. They won't lift a finger. While the Senate lives in golden palaces they always look outward toward other planet's and their problems, never inward to the very heart of their own society. Would you like to know why?"

I say nothing. Nihilus likes to talk when he gets in the preaching mood. He was an intellectual in life and will admit that one of the few pleasures I offer for him is a listening ear.

"Because the heart of all men is black." Nihilus answers his own question. "It is always about themselves. Love is about satisfying your own desire to be needed by addicting yourself to another. Hatred is a need to remove obstacles of all sorts and sizes, and revenge is obvious."

"Justice is selfless." I answer.

"Ah, yes… Justice. A system of sitting in ignorance while you let other's clean up the streets for you provided you throw money at them."

"The greater good then." I am not about to let him win.

"Who's greater good?" He asks. "Everyone's greater good is only a reflection of themselves. The only one who can decide greater good is someone who is both good and a deity. There are no good mortals, it is a paradox. We all sin at some point. Any man can try to craft a 'greater good' that is good, but it will always be flawed, because the mortals who make it will be flawed just as much."

"What is your point then?" I ask.

"The difference between the politicians and the people down here they ignore is resolve. Politicians cannot and will not do what is necessary because it is political suicide, and down here, with people like this, resolve to do what you need to do is everything."

He turns on me and steps in my way. His full presence bears down on me through the man's eyes. "Do you have the resolve to do what you need to do?"

"I will enjoy making you suffer." I hiss defiantly. "When it's time."

"I don't feel pain." He answers matter-of-factly.

"Of course you do." I answer. "You may not when you're a specter, but right now your flesh and blood like me. You have nerves and pain receptors."

He nods. "A very astute theory. But wrong." He takes a nail off the ground and slowly inserts it into his finger just under the finger nail. He doesn't flinch. After driving and twisting the nail all the way in, he takes a knife and drives it under his thumb nail.

The blood pouring off his fingers sickens me. "Okay, I get it!"

He chuckles. "You're squeamish, Galen, you get sick at the sight of blood. For that, you will never have the resolve to kill me."

"Yes, I will!"

"You sure? This isn't about hurting me, Galen, it's about killing me. Do you have what it takes to end a life?"

"Yes!" I yell. I will kill him. It is what I have devoted my life to.

He presents the bloody knife to me. "Then prove it."

What? He… right now? He can't be serious! We're in public and… I'm hesitating. This is Nihilus! But Nihilus is wearing the body of another man. He's hiding behind that face daring me to kill him. Can I really? No, no… It doesn't matter. These people here are criminals who should be on death row. He's probably a former gang member with plenty of blood on his hands, if the muscles and tattoos are any clue.

Nihilus is flesh and blood right now. He can be killed!

I take the knife in my hands and he watches me closely. I feel his gaze on me. I feel other people watching me, even though no one is actually looking at me.

"Galen, what are you waiting f-?" He stops as a knife cuts his jugular.

I wonder who's knife did that. I didn't see… My knife has blood running down it! Oh! I did it! Nihilus reaches up to grab his neck and I find myself savoring the expression on his face. Surprise. He underestimated me. He truly did not believe I could do it, that I would do it!

I exterminated the evil!

Nihilus falls to the floor and suddenly eyes fall on me. The knife in my hands shake and feel scouring hot, and I realize how compromising this looks.

I run for it.

Hours later I manage to steal my way into someone's home. The place is empty and no one will find me here. There's a holographic television to the side and a couch. I collapse on the couch.

I did it. I killed Nihilus. I'm not sure why I thought it was such a big deal. It was easy, almost second nature. The flesh was soft and the knife was sharp. It wasn't any different from cutting butter. The feeling after having killed him isn't what I expected either. I was afraid of being caught, but I don't feel fear in general. I don't feel paranoia or hunger and I can't say I'm all the sleepy. It… it feels like it was just another part of the day.

Really, all I feel is shame. Shame that I won't get to train anymore. Shame that I won't get to destroy more PROXY droids. It's a shame no one will ever know or acknowledge what I did.

It's a shame I'll never have his tacos again, Nihilus made good tacos. Probably one of his only redeeming qualities. Shame I also won't get my hair cut for a while until I find a barber. Nihilus was always obsessed about my hair length.

I lay on the owner's couch for a while staring at the ceiling. Suddenly my datapad rings and I recognize the voice on the other end. Nihilus. "You're still alive?!" I hiss. How can he be alive?! I saw the life leave his eyes! He was flesh and blood for the first time since I've known him! HE HAD A BEATING HEART!

"Turn on the news." He orders and tells me what channel.

I growl and do it. I'm curious what's so importan- "Former Police Academy Instructor Huatt was found dead tonight on the streets of sector 3451." There's pictures of where I killed Nihilus. The man Nihilus wore appears on a picture standing in uniform. Bile rises in my throat, but the news lady continues on, "Huatt worked at the Acadamy in his early life and ran a bar offering ninety-percent discounts to security forces and soldiers after he retired."

I can only sit in shock and watch in dumb horror. My hand shakes over the datapad near my ear and I barely hear anything. On the holographic image appears the man being loaded into a body bag with a younger woman crying and screaming over him and a little girl wearing a little sports cap and cute hoody balling her eyes out. "Father was a great man." The woman barely manages to say between sobs. "Please, if anyone knows the man who… who…" She can't even say it.

The little girl just simply screams, "Why kill my grandpa! I WANT GRANDPA BACK!" Tears run down her chin and her snot runs into her mouth, but she's too busy trying to mop up her tears with a soaking wet sleeve that is twice the size of her arm to notice the taste of snot. "Why did someone kill grandpa! Grandpa was a good man…"

I turn the device off just before my stomach contents decide to come up for a landing.

After several minutes of dumbly staring in wide eyed shock at the gloopy mess that once made up my lunch, I realize the tears running down my face. My hands feel like they're on fire… My sense of touch is so extreme I just want to cut them off. These hands aren't worth having.

Dumbly I barely remember the datapad. It's still on. Nihilus!

I pick it up and try to speak, but my voice is too shaky. I cough against the burning acid left in my esophagus. "H-he… wasn't a gang member?"

"Who told you he was?" Nihilus wonders. "Did you assume he was because of a tattoo? So everyone without tattoos are good now? Pity about the man. He was a bright star in this dark cesspool."

"YOU BASTARD!" I yell. I throw the datapad away. Coincidentally it lands on the couch.

Distantly I hear his voice, "You did well, Galen. Much better than I expected of you. Now is a time to celebrate."

"I DON'T WANT A COMPLIMENT FROM YOU! I DON'T WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU!"

Silence sweeps over me loudly in direct contrast to all the yelling at the pounding of my own heartbeat. I feel something tight in my chest and I squeeze against it. I hear a distant scream of that girl from the news in my head.

"You now have what it takes to kill me. You're a murderer, Starkiller."

I had forgotten why he named me Starkiller. I refused to remember this. He named me Starkiller so I would never forget my first murder, my first kill, the time I found the resolve to know what it takes to kill Nihilus. Even then I fought him, I forced myself to forget the reason behind my name.

I never wanted to hear that little girls screams that once mimicked my own those many years ago.

"Varus!"

Huh?

"UNCY VARUS!" A voice screams into my chest.

I open my ears and suddenly find myself with a tight fist curled around my side squeezing a handful of skin and a little girl suffocating in my arms.

SQUIRT!

I release her and jump away like she's on fire. She gasps for breathe. I sit up and realize how badly I'm shaking. My heart is pounding so hard my ribs hurt, my body is covered in cold sweat to the point the air feels like it's forty degrees, yet my body feels like it's reaching the boiling point. I don't know if I just 'embarrassed' myself or if it's just my sweat, but every single layer of clothing feels wet and sticky and the bed isn't that much better.

"I'm so sorry, Squirt." Is all I can manage to get out while trying not to pass out from a panic attack.

She just nods and lays there enjoying the little gift that is breathing. "You okay?" I ask.

She nods again, but the fear is there. It's a reflection of what she sees. If just looking at me is making her this frightened, it's probably best she doesn't sleep with me like she usually does to feel safe. Right now, I can't offer that. Her uncle or not, I cannot offer safety. I can't shake her nightmares. I can't offer her comfort or be her little guardian.

Before, I always gave her courage while leaving none for myself. I never needed courage as a slave. I just didn't care. I just made sure she was brave and happy and secure, and that Koj was the same. I watched over them just as much as they did me.

Now, I can't do that. I can't be her guardian angel when I'm too busy needing one of those myself.

"W-why don't y-you go find y-your father, Squirt." I manage to say while shaking. The coldness of my sweat seeps into my skin and my body temperature is lowering. My teeth chatter and I huddle against myself in the darkness to buy some warmth. "Sorry, but I-I can't fight the monsters off tonight." I don't know if its normal or if it's just her, but she refers to her nightmares as monsters. Sometimes they actually do have monsters and there are times I find amusement in how incredibly ridicules the monsters are when she describes them. Her imagination is as scary to grasp as my own.

"Alright." She yawns. She gets up and straightens her slave rags. First thing we are doing is getting her out of those and into something a little girl SHOULD be wearing! With unicorns, girl pirates, dancing elves, and exploding robot chipmunks.

She walks away, but stops momentarily to look back at me. She may think her emotions are elusive, but she's a kid. The worry is on every inch of her face down to her four-toed feet. I wave her off and she closes the door.

Leaving me to my own monsters. Yeah… I'm not getting any sleep today. I get up and strip the sheets off the bed. I don't know if I soiled them or not, but might as well not take any chances. The physical exertion is appealing. I dump the pile of sheets by the door and take the pillow cases off the pillows to be done as well. Same material, can be done together. The pillow case Squirt was snuggling with in her arms while she was in mine has faint wetness, tears. She was crying again.

The last thing she remembers is the fight and dead person shot right in front of her. I remember my first exposure to death. It was the same day I met Nihilus. I know my exposure was probably darker than hers, but the experience I had still makes it feel personal. My heart clenches for her. No amount of sleeping with me will defend her from this monster in her imagination. No amount of being around Koj and I while we convince her there isn't a baddy under her bed will do anything. Her mind is stained red just as my hands are.

I sigh and enter the bathroom. There's no mirror and no light switch. I leave the door cracked to have some light from the lamp provided to me. I strip out of my old slave clothes. A part of me misses the old ragged Starkiller ensemble, but another part doesn't. on one hand, it was a second skin. On the other, it was Starkiller's skin. Now I'm in slave clothes (or was a second ago). I need a new wardrobe along with Squirt and the others.

Maybe that will help cheer her up. Back as slaves I could never dote on Squirt like I wanted to. I remember father and mother would when I was a child, things like dolls and balloons before I got into action figures and mock-lightsabers I tried (and failed) to beat Visas with. I smile at the faint recollection. Odds are I could hand her butt to her now. But still, I wonder what Squirt would like.

I turn on the shower and step in once I got the clammy-wet scraps off. The handles aren't color coded, but I don't mind a cold shower. Beats no shower at all.

Ah… this feels good.

I doubt even Squirt knows what she would like. She first has to be exposed to the idea of wanting things before she can start to explore it. Koj is a great father and isn't clingy nor detached, but he also lacks understanding of concepts most father's have in my limited experience.

I remember bring up the idea of a teddy bear for her once, just as a posing note, and he had looked at me like I was insane. "Why would I give her a ferocious beast of the 'teddy' species?"

Being a Ghorfa, he scraped and fought for every ounce of water he drank on the wonderful summer vacation spot otherwise known as the Tatooine desert. He probably wouldn't know what a teddy bear or doll is. Or a cheap glasses with a mustache, he would think I've lost my mind

Oh, I have gotta do that one day! Maybe even stick it on him while he's sleeping.

I feel chills go down my front as the water becomes particularly icy and I scramble for at least some heat. After it gets somewhat hot, I glance around for soap. Don't they know that all hotels are supposed to have those cheap little bars of soap in cheesy blue paper? Individuality wrapped and everything. Where's their hospitality!?

Instead I find a pump. It's actually hand-soap, but it'll do. I get a ton in my hand and rub myself down under the water. My hand brushes over my scars and memories pop in my mind over each one. They absently remind me of Starkiller and how red my hands are.

The day I killed that grandfather and was named Starkiller is one of the few encounters where I earned no scar, yet it's the one I need the most. Guess its more of a scar over my heart than a phsyical one. I have other ones, mostly from training exercise with Nihilus and a few PROXY droids the Ravager was able to produce. I think he took a bit of the Star Forge technology in the ship to allow for regenerative security or training droids for me. Might also explain why the ship could make food out of thin air, and why it tasted like crap.

Other scars I got from killing Jedi. Mostly Masters. I remember now… I may have thought little about it at the time, but I rarely killed Padawans. I thought it was because they were too weak to warrant my time, but then the same could be said for all those nameless soldiers and eyewitnesses who were removed from the witness equation in my path. No, I didn't kill Padawans because… I don't know. No, I do know.

I wanted them to remember. I wanted them to never forget. I wanted someone to know I was guilty, to gain strength, to find me, and to end the guilt.

Just like Maris Brood did.

I sigh again and turn off the water. Maris Brood… I can see the faces of so many other Padawans as well, but she stands out because she is the only one to have been given a name and identity. She represents the sins of my past, and how I still haven't atoned.

Perhaps there will be another Maris Brood, another sin of my past given form to catch up to me.

If there is, will I welcome this faceless avenger? Will I resist?

I find a towel and rub myself down. My instincts tell me to look in the mirror. Stupid little normalcy's like that are hard to get away from. I'm always used to have a mirror in the bathroom, even the stupid broken one I shared with the other slaves. But that doesn't change anything. I know what I will see in the mirror. There are times I see Maris in the mirror, but that's just my guilt playing tricks on me.

What I really see is Galen Marek. Starkiller. Varus Wynn.

All three would welcome this avenger, but I can't be any of them. I have Squirt and Koj and… I have a bunch of idiots who rely on me. Why, I don't want to know. The sheer fact that they rely on me of all people speaks volumes for their sanity and intelligence.

But I can't have this avenger to catch up. I can't afford these nightmares and dreams. I can't let these scars hold me down.

I need to figure out what's going on. I have a lot of years to catch up on.

I step out of the bathroom with a purpose, then feel the draft. "Right!" I shiver. "Clothes first!"

But all I got is the slave crap! I check the closet and conveniently there is a small wardrobe of various sizes. Nice suits and crap. Do they expect me to be president of a company or something? How do you even put this crap on?

It takes about half an hour, but I manage to get the black pants, white shirt, and tuxedo thing on. I can't be bothered buttoning the thing and I would stab myself in the foot if I put that tie on. "I can't believe this is all this thing has…" It's a size too small.

I find my shoes… and stop.

I've been wearing those same shoes for years, as a slave. It's more or less been reduced to chewed up pieces of leather full of holes.

The other option is a set of really fancy black shoes, also a size too small, and so shiny I can see my reflection.

Oh, this is agony. I stick the shoes on and walk out.

Ignoring the whistle calls from the Stooges and the 'Well don't you look spiffy!' mock from Cupcake, I find Koj. He's sitting at a table with Squirt laying her head down on his lap and IT'S THAT HOT LADY!

What's she doing here?!

Koj and her look up at my approach and she looks slightly miffed. "I'm here to thank you, but with an attitude like that, I don't feel entirely welcome." Of course, my mouth runneth over.

"Sorry…" I sigh, again. I collapse next to Koj and stick my head in my hands. "I couldn't sleep. I feel like crap."

"What is crap supposed to feel like?" Koj wonders. Knowing him, he literally means 'what is a pile of cow poop supposed to feel like?'

"This." I answer. "Koj, dear old adoptive brother of mine-"

"I'm not old."

"-It's a phrase- I would pay you a credit to take the nearest fork and stab my head with it, repeatedly."

"Your head is worth ten billion credits, not one. So no." He answers off-handedly.

I chuckle darkly. "And who told you that? Her?"

"Yes."

I briefly hesitate. "Okay, that's just weird. No, wait, actually I'm… I'm… whatever the opposite of offended is." Wow, I can't think straight. I glance at the woman. "You really think I'm worth ten billion? I'm… oh! Flattered! That's the word." Hooray, for little victories.

She blushes slightly, which shouldn't be this cute! You can't have small, fragile, cute woman smiling in my presence! That's going to cause a tear in the universe! "You're welcome?"

"I do not believe her proclaiming your monetary value is her way of buying you for a date." Koj says entirely too flatly.

Which leaves her turning red and me momentary stunned. "Koj! I-I-I-I wasn't going to assume that!" Dang it Koj! Don't tease me unknowingly in front of someone I am trying to not embarrass myself in front of! I have a hard enough time with woman!

"Why not?"

"Be-because!" I turn away from him.

"I would."

The lady groans to herself. "This can't be happening!"

"Koj." I turn back to him. "You would date me for ten billion credits? Another man. Your sworn brother?" The lady turns even brighter red.

"I'd kill for it. I've killed for a lot less." He returns my bewilderment with facts.

I just stare at him gaping before wildering into a glare. "I don't know you anymore…"

He glances at the woman, and back to me. "Okay."

"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WITH THAT!"

"What would you like me to say?"

"Oh!" I shrug. "I don't know. How about 'No! Varus, please don't go! I'll never let you go!'"

"You got that off a cheap holovid."

"Yes, I did, the movie made me yawn and want to stab myself in the eyes before finally walking out in the middle of it, but the point is-"

"Gentlemen!" She manages to force out and we stop arguing. "I don't know where that started or how it derailed completely, but Koj'Ineh was being truthful. You really are worth ten billion credits."

I just stare at her a second while my brain tries to catch up with what she just said. Finally I hear a screeching sound as the hamster on a wheel hits the breaks, and I'm still clueless. All I know is what Koj said about buying me for a date. "Look…" I start. "I'm flattered, but-"

"I'm not asking you on a date!" She blurts out. Her head is still cradled in her hands like she is trying to resist a migraine. "You're on the wanted 'dead or alive' list for ten billion!"

"Oh." I glance at Koj. He glances at me. "Okay."

"You're not supposed to be okay with that!" She yells.

"Is this what you call… Deja Whoo?" Koj asks me.

"Deja vue." I correct him. "And yes." I turn back to her. "And yes, I am okay with that, because compared to half the crap I've lived with my entire life, being on the top ten most wanted list in the galaxy isn't that big of a leap."

"Galen!" She tries to argue. "It was the Mandalorian Clans that put it up! Now the Cartel is after you just to show them up and get the reward, half the galaxies bounty hunters are after you, and let's not forget how you apparently also ticked off the Dominion, and both Republics!"

"Oh…" Oh! Oh crap… That's a lot of people suddenly wanting me dead.

"Yeah! 'Oh…'!" She stresses.

"What did you do?" Koj asks.

I chuckle knowingly. "You want a list?"

"No, not really." He shrugs. Knowing him, he doesn't care about that. "What are you going to do?"

"We need supplies." She says. "Weapons, a ship, and so on. You contract needs to be instated. You need to get moving."

"Right!" I stand, actually I'm completely ignoring her. "Food, clothes, more food, and getting a surprise for Squirt. Care to come, Koj?"

The lady is flabbergasted. "You need to do something!"

"We are doing something." I argue. "We're getting food, clothes, more food, and-"

"About the Dominion chasing us and all this crap surrounding your wanted list! And get you blood tested to prove you're your mother's son, and-"

I'm already walking out the door. "One step at a time!" I yell back. I hear her bonk her head down on the table and Koj falls into step beside me with Squirt in his arms. I stick my finger in my ear. It itches. I still have water in my ears. "I think brown would make an excellent color for you."

"Hm…" He agrees.

"Black is more my style." I continue.

He glances at me. "The suit is very… extravagant." He tries to agree.

"Not this crap!" I shift it around uncomfortably. "This is uncomfortable. How can people wear suits!" It's just a simple men's suit, but it still does feel too formal for me.

Suddenly he is smiling and I can't help but wonder why. Ghorfa never smile. We descend the ramp and enter the Miraluka city. "Why are you smiling?" I wonder.

"The woman." He nods his head back in the direction of the ship. " Her name is Ashley Marr." Ah, Visas sister. "She has been assigned to us by this 'Mistress' as a go-between, and wants to thank you personally for 'listening' before and how your presence has already had an impact on her sister."

If by impact she means giving Visas a target to mess with? She's welcome.

"Assigned to us…" I repeat in wonder, before grinning like a madman. "She isn't going to last long."

"Exactly my thoughts." He smirks even wider.

But… what am I supposed to do? I'm uncomfortable around her… Ever since I got a headful of Revan and his love-sessions with Bastilla, which I am trying really hard not to remember, I have suddenly realized there is actually some purpose to female attractions, and I got a lot of exposure to male mentality in prison. Suffice to say I have a very messed up picture of woman, albeit a lot of it involving attraction on some level now, and a lack of general exposure leaves me flabbergasted in the short sessions I have.

Just don't think of her as someone who is of the female persuasion. She isn't small and cute! She's ugly! She's an ugly old hag who wants to make out with a huge wart on her nose!

Okay, wait, that just makes me want to throw up. Scrap that.

Okay, new plan: Think of her like the sun. Limit exposure and use sunglasses when looking directly at her, and NEVER actually look at her. Right, this'll be easy.

Also, assume nothing. Don't assume anything is a flirt or attempt at me. If I let myself get confused and start wondering about every stupid little female signal, I'll go nuts. One blink does not mean 'go' and two blinks does not mean 'stop'. Although if she ends up blinking too much, it means her eyes hurt from looking at me. But basically assume nothing. Let her take charge of whatever form the partnership takes, because my own inexperience will turn it all into a nut farm of madness and insanity.

"I'm going to need some sunglasses." I let him know offhandedly. He shrugs.

"We're buying on the Miraluka's tab anyway."


Rebhorn watched the holographic monitor. The water moved and flowed with the changing of the image. While most of the galaxy relies on holographic projectors that employ light fixtures, the Miraluka cannot see light. Their holovids and monitors for computer terminals have to be made out of real material, and the material has to move, flow, and change itself as the way of showing imagery.

A line appeared in the water and a number of small ships flew past it, and the ships behind the first group followed as well.

They were now in the neutral zone and the Dominion had not ended its chase.

"This does not bode well." Rebhorn muttered mostly to himself.

They had options, but after calculating the odds and risks, none of them were any good.

In fact, there was only one option, and it relied on a completely unknown variable. The Mistress was pushing for him to send Galen Marek out to stop the Dominion, but not only was he an unknown variable in terms of loyalty, but in strength as well. How can one man accomplish it?

The Admiral knew of Starkiller's reputation. The man was powerful, lethal, and explosive, in more ways than one. But an entire fleet?

"I am going to see the Keeper. Keep the fleet ahead of the Dominion." He ordered the crew and left the premises.

At the very least he could ask the Keeper if he would do it, and if he was capable. They had time for him to continue shuffling ideas around in his head.

The Admiral found the transport housing Garen and entered in. Seeing Ashley, he said, "Do you know where the Keeper is?" Expecting him to be nearby, Rebhorn was surprised to hear the man was away. "Away? Doesn't he know how serious the situation is?"

"He does, somewhat, but he has a peculiar way of dealing with it." She smiled apologetically.


"Tell me the truth Koj, does this make me look fat?"

"Yes."

I gape at him and look down at my clothes. It's a black robe hoody thing. It is big and poofy, but its robes! It's supposed to be like that! "You're not supposed to tell me that!"

"Then why did you ask?" He glances at some clothes and leaves them behind.

"Because it's the first thing that popped in my head…" I take the outer robe off and leave it back on the rack. "For a man who has never had much of an idea around choosing, you are really picky about what you wear."

"It's a matter of survival. Not looks."

Ah yes… The brown robes blended in on Tatooine sand. It makes sense, and it's not like we are going to have much of a chance of getting anything nice here. I think when the Miraluka lost their sense of sight they lost their sense of coloration. Everything is a mishmash of color. Orange on black in white mixed with a dose of green and some pink thrown in, and that's just the collar. Whoever in the world designed this had no idea what color thread he was using.

The fact that there are any clothes at all with singular colors is unique. They must be traded or designed by non-Miraluka.

After going through the third rack, I look over to find Koj has found himself a set of camouflage pants, three layers of shirts, and a camouflage hoody. "Now you just need a mask there, Koj." He picks up some brown gloves and checks the boots, but none are his size. As it is already, he will have to modify the gloves for his hand. "Try cutting off the finger tips." I advise him.

He looks between the gloves and me, before stuffing them in the bag.

I go through the fourth rack and don't even bother picking anything up. It's all crap. I am NOT wearing pink! Or yellow or red or green or blue, and most certainly not at once. This brings me to the final spot in the shop, a large box of clothes for sale. They are all used and sold to the shop by some people looking to empty their apartments.

I go through the clothes and hold a few up to see. This one has holes, this one is full of patches, blah blah blah, one after another, but my hand lands on one and it sparks something in me. It interests me and I pull it out.

It's a pure black leather jacket. Slightly old quality like it's been rubbed down a lot. It has a high collar that wraps around and snaps to a silver button, and the wrist collars are the same way. It's missing metal plating that I am used to, but those I can sow on. I made my old clothes partially by hand anyway.

On the back is a red emblem of a pillar of fire. The Marek house symbol.

I don't have anything to wear under it yet, but I will. Probably something in grey. I find a shirt and take off my slave shirt to replace it. With the jacket over it… It's like I was I slip it on. It fits snuggly. It's just my size…

This has me written all over it.

I walk over to the kid area to find Squirt still looking between the clothes, but she still hasn't decided on anything. "Here, let me help." I reach over her and glance at them. They are all bland and mismatched like the rest, but a few stand out as being something more along the lines of what I would expect.

She looks up at me. "That looks cool."

"Thanks, Squirt." I smile. I think the black leather works with me.

I pull one out and glance it over. I wish I could say what girls her age are supposed to be wearing, but I really have no idea in hindsight. My expectations are twenty-years behind the times, but I figure some pajama's with ponies on them is still 'in', and something cute the rest of the time. Why do so many of them have stupid phrases on them like 'I'm just that cute'. I find a pink dress thing, a butterfly shirt and shorts, and some really shoes that make me want to cringe will work. "Here, go try these on."

She looks at them skeptically, but takes them anyway to try on. It says a lot when a seven-year old girl thinks slave clothes are the norm.

She walks out wearing the pink dress. It's not formal, but the uncle in me wants to hug her to death while the man inside wants to cringe at the sight of the girliness in it. It probably doesn't help that her natural skin color is green, that her eyes each have two pupils, and her mouth is oval-shaped with lips that are capable of being both horizontal and vertical depending on what she feels. "Koj!" I call. "Get over here and tell Squirt what you think."

He walks over. "I think it's attroci-." I grab him by the mouth and he glares at me.

"Repeat after me: 'It is adorable.'" I whisper harshly.

In the same quiet tone he says, "Why? It's massive and… poofy. Completely impractical and an eyesore and it makes her hips look huge."

"I don't know, that's what girls are into. And it's a dress. It's going to open up more on the way down."

He continues glaring at me, but looks at his daughter when she walks out. She is really nervous and touching it like it itches. Being new it probably does. "So?" She wonders.

He glances at me. "It has achieved what it set out to do."

"It looks beautiful." I translate. "What do you think, Squirt?"

She shrugs. I smile and punch Koj in the arm for not being any help. "We'll take 'em."

I take our clothes, that we aren't wearing, and stick them in a bag. We take them to the front. The lady is surprised we are wearing the clothes we intend to buy, but I pull out an example of our slave clothes. It has oil stains over most of it and huge gaping holes in the back and arm pits. She gets the idea.

"What about your old clothes?"

"Burn them." Koj says. He finds a mask in a pile of hoodies and shows me. It is camouflage as well, but has holes that remind me of a skeleton's face. Teeth between the holes, the cheeks behind the teeth, and eye sockets.

"That is definitely you." Out of curiosity I look through the hats and masks as well on the wall. Most of them are junk, funny masks, I snag one that has a big nose and mustache for the sake of it, and my eyes land on the sport caps. There's one in Squirt's size.

The girl from my nightmare… It looks similar. The girl who's grandfather I killed.

Whatever purpose I have in mind, whether it be a need for reminders and guilt, because it might look good on her, or even the lack of a reason in my empty head, I pick it up and plop it down on Squirt's head. She growls in aggravation and scratches her head under it, but she doesn't take it off. It looks cute on her.

"I think that's everything." I say. "This place doesn't have shoes."

"Okay…" The lady at the cash register says.

"Yep and he's paying." I point back at him.

"It's on the Mistress' tab." He corrects me.

"Okay, take it up with her then."

"I will…" She looks between us. "Give me a moment." And she picks up a phone.

A minute later she let's us know its bought and payed for.

"What's next?" I ask Koj as we leave. Squirt skips down the steps and onto the street. The place is very condensed for a city, but it has the taste of one. Dirt, sidewalks, buildings, lights and everything. It is built from the ground up to look like a city built on a planet, and outside of the small scale and ceiling over our heads as the inner hull of the ship, it achieves that well.

"You said you were hungry."

"I'm hungry!" Squirt volunteers with an upraised hand.

"That settles it." I pat her on the head and she giggles. "Pick one, Squirt."

She picks one, and half an hour later we are eating. I already ate, so I just nibble while Squirt eats her own food and mine as well. She's a growing girl, that's for sure.

I feel Koj beside me tensing up, and he looks around a lot. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"The people are fearful. Something is going on."

I frown and put down my fork. "They did say the Dominion was chasing us from the slave ship. Do you think they are still on us?"

"Judging from the people's reaction, they are gaining."

"Great…" I groan. This ship is hardly battle ready, and the Dominion are what's left of the military side of the old Confederacy. They may lack the economic backing they need to be up to par with their past, hence their relations with the Cartel, but they are still a force to be trifled with, and the Nomadic Fleet is hardly capable of dealing with even a single Dominion fleet.

The Miraluka will be wiped out unless they do something.

"It is convenient for them that they have chosen to hire us as permanent exclusive mercenaries just when they need us most."

I scoff. "You make it sound like a conspiracy."

"I doubt they lured the Dominion into a chase just to exploit us, but they did not immediately come up with this deal just because they felt like it."

I chuckle. "Only you, Koj… Only you." But then… it makes sense. I may tease him for seeing conspiracies, but I wasn't the apprentice to a Sith Lord for nothing. I feel something too. He may be right. "So, fifty-fifty we will be thrown at the Dominion giving chase, or do some mission related to it." I smirk. "Sounds like fun. We will need some things."

"A ship and a crew, weapons, basic provisions."

"Crew won't be hard. Three Stooges may be idiots, and make me want to kill them every few seconds, but they can fly circles around aces. Together they could even give Tree-Hugger a run for his money. Cupcake is good manual labor and a powerful asset, provided he hates me and sleeps and eats so much."

"Then there is Ashley."

"Who?" I ask.

"Ashley Marr. The female we met earlier. She has been donated to us by the Mistress as a 'thank you' and to be close to you."

"I like her, she's nice." Squirt adds.

Dang it… this Mistress is insistent. She loves making things difficult for me… "Okay, I am not sure what she can do, but I'll leave that to you to find out."

"I'll just ask." Koj'Ineh shrugs.

"Yeah… weapons and such shouldn't be hard either. Cupcake and I are living weapons in our own right, and all you need is a steady long-range blaster. A lightsaber for me would come in handy, but if I can access the Force again, I won't need it. Then pistols for the Stooges will suffice."

"Which leaves your surgery…" He says.

"I am not looking forward to it." I agree.

Early on in my imprisonment of the Republic, I had implanted into my neck a device originally supported by Nihilus that he intended to use on the Jedi before they moved against him a bit earlier than he must have anticipated. It numbed a part of my brain that Sith and Jedi use to access the Force.

What they didn't know is that after having it in your body for years on end, day after day, you eventually get used to the frequency. I was able to use the Force again and intended to use it to escape slavery.

Then Squirt showed up in my life. Winy, crying, clingy, afraid, and all around annoying. She grew on me against my desire, and one day she nearly died. She suffocated in a puncture leak on an outfit and her heart stopped.

I could have used the Force to escape, as I had finally grown strong enough in secret to be at my full strength and control again, but I chose to save her life. I use lightning to start her heart up again.

They took me and tweaked the frequency to something I wasn't used to, thereby cutting me off from the Force again. I also might have caused a massive blackout by accident at the time. But I saved Squirt, was reunited with Koj, and was made brother by oath.

I'd say it was worth it, but now I need this thing out of me, and then I'll need some time to warm my Force-muscles, flex my brain a bit.

"How did you meeting with the Mistress go?" He asks.

I grimace. "Uh…." I look at him, but he is watching me patiently and attentively. Sometimes I really hate how serious he is. "It could have gone better."

"Explain."

I sigh. "Okay… my birth name is Galen Marek, I was abducted into service of Darth Nihilus when I was five and sacrificed my people to do it, or so I believed until I was a bit wiser to know it was outside my hands to begin with."

"I'm aware. You told me. What does this have to do with it?"

I hesitate, not sure how to say it, but then again, Koj is a lot like me in some ways. He is straight forward and factual. He is trying to lighten up, but he comes from a culture where every word, every action, every thought had to be perfect and intentional and serious, because nothing could be wasted. "She claims to be Victoria Marek. My mother."

He goes quiet, which isn't that big of a difference from how he usually is, but with more serious, thoughtful undertones. He brings his hands up together. "You don't believe it?"

I… "I don't know…" I admit. This is frustrating. I want to be able to hope, I want to be able to give it a chance, but I have twenty-years of nightmares, dashed hopes, and blood on my hands holding me back. "I saw my family die, Koj. I saw Nihilus pick up my father's skull and peer into it in insatiable curiosity."

"But you never saw your mother die…"

I cringe. "I… no. Mother…" My heart goes into my throat. It's hard to admit, but I need to let it out. If not for Koj, then for myself. It takes all my willpower to not let myself cry in public and say it with a straight face. "Mother was away at the time. I remember being upset that she wouldn't be around for the holiday like she promised."

"Then there is a chance."

"No." I deny. "That's the thing, Koj! It can't be. I know it can make sense, I know I saw the desperation!" And the way she looked at me. It was like she saw a baby boy and she was remembering it again. "I saw the… the scars. She looks so much like my mother." except my mother was so full of youth, energy, fire. She was the scariest living thing I had ever seen. She could even compete with Nihilus. This… cripple is like a wilted flower in comparison to a person who used to have all the spark, determination, and presence of a volcano.

"It can't be…" I repeat.

"I sympathize with your dilemma." He pats me on the shoulder. One of the gestures I've taught him to use. He's a bit stiff at it, but the few gestures he makes mean more. "But here is the way I see it."

I nod.

"What you don't have is resolution. As much as you may wish that distancing yourself and thinking on it will resolve that -and I know you enough to know you are considering it-, it won't. You want resolution? Get to know her. Be around her. Compare this woman to the woman you knew and see for yourself who she is. Stay skeptical and wary, but give her a chance."

"But… what if she isn't my mother?"

"Am I your brother, Varus?" Koj asks.

"Yes?"

"No." he shakes his head. "Am I your blood brother, Varus?"

"No…" I admit.

Squirt, who is being really quiet, walks around to stand by us and looks at me sadly. Probably shouldn't have said such depressing stuff in front of her. I really need to learn she is in the room despite how quiet she is! She takes that up right from her father! I swear!

You would think being around me so much would make her louder.

"I am your…? Your…?" She squints her eyes in thought.

"Niece."

"Yeah, that thing."

"Of course your my niece, Squirt." I hug her to me and look up at Koj. "And your my brother. Blood or not."

He nods. "Then you may find this woman may become a mother figure, even if she isn't by blood. And if she is, then all the better. At the very least, an ally."

"Yeah…" I say softly while Squirt hugs me to death. I hug her back one-armed and look down at nothing. Koj makes sense. He always makes sense. He has a very realistic, unbiased view of the universe. But even as much sense as he makes, the problem comes down to me. Can my heart take it? Can I dare to hope? "I can't promise anything, Koj."

"I wouldn't ask you to." He growls lightly. "Never promise anything."

Right, totally unbiased, in everything except promises.

Okay, my chest is starting to hurt from Squirt hugging me too tightly. "That's enough." I peel her off and gasp for air. "Thanks, Squirt, but this is too much sappy. I can only take it in small doses or I'm going to go insane."

"Fair enough." Koj nods and he moves on just like that.

Squirt, not so much. She has tears built up in her eyes and she looks like she is going to jump me again. "Fine…" I give her another quick hug and ensure she stops after a moment. Her food is done and what's left of mine is cold.

"Let's go. I feel another nap coming on." I get up. Koj agrees and Squirt is already at the door waiting for us. Kids are born capable of instant teleportation, I swear.

Years of being a slave working manual labor takes its toll. I haven't slept this much, or in beds this comfortable, in ages. Feels like I'm playing catchup.

We grab our clothes and head out to return to the ship.