Memory

by kosiah

After the Star Forge, the galaxy has changed. As most of civilized space mourns the fallen heroes of the Star Forge expedition, its real survivors must face the consequences of their actions - even the ones Revan can't remember.

21. All the Pretty Hessi

All the Pretty Hessi

Chapter 21 / All the Pretty Hessi

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1, Footage from the Mandalorian Embassy

Jokka Rai: "I'm not sure what the proper form of address would be."

Oerin Lin: "Among my people, I would be called, simply, Oerin, but 'Mandalore' or 'Fett Lin' are als0 both appropriate. For now."

(Offscreen: technician's voice: "Cutting to live feed, again in three. One, two, three….)

Jokka Rai: "This is Jokka Rai reporting. Live from Coruscant's Embassy District. History itself is made tonight, as the former heroes of the Star Forge are reunited once more. In some strange twist of fate, Revan Starfire has been captured by the Mandalorians. Here now with me is the heir to Mandalore, the son of Cassus Lin Fett— "

Oerin Lin: " Fett Cassus Lin."

Jokka Rai: (snorts) "... the Mandalore's son, Fett Oerin Lin. Fett Lin, am I correct in understanding that before tonight you had no idea that Revan was hidden among your people?"

Oerin Lin: "No idea at all. It's quite shocking that Ordo could hide this from me. When the First and Second Wives of Ordo asked my permission to welcome their husband back to our tents, I—"

Gwenarius: (halfway offscreen) "Permission?"

Jokka Rai: "Canderous Ordo is married? If you could explain to the viewers at home: are we to understand that—I am having a hard time understanding that Revan Starfire married Canderous?"

Oerin Lin: "Gwenarius, y'kleem ya nicht. (Subtitled translation: shut your craw). "Ordo's fate rests with Lin. Do you forget your place?" (turns back to the Bothan) "I must apologize for my subject, Jokka. You don't mind if I call you Jokka, do you?"

Jokka Rai: "No, of course not. As I was saying, Revan Starfire married Canderous Ordo?"

Gwenarius: "And Carth Onasi."

Oerin Lin: "Y'kleem, Gwen! (Addressing the phalanx of guards that surround them.) "Gag her."

(Muffled sounds of protest from offscreen.)

XXX

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you'll have cake,

And all the pretty little hessi."

In her arms, Junior wailed. Polla shifted him against her shoulder patting his back.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy—"

"Is he supposed to cry like that?" Seiran asked, walking over to where she was sprawled on the couch.

Polla shrugged. "Hell if I know. Cousin Sara's kids cry a lot." She turned back to the miracle in her arms, lips brushing the dark downy fuzz on his head.

"Way down yonder, down in the meadow,

There's a poor dead kissra lamby.

The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes—"

"Can't you sing something happier?" Seiran asked, frowning, over their son's indignant squawls.

"Maybe he'd be happier if you'd pick out a name for him," Polla cooed. "Can't call him Junior all his life."

"You haven't liked any of my suggestions," her husband began again.

Polla rolled her eyes. She had Junior's name picked out already, but getting Seiran to accept it would be another story. Maybe it was a dumb tradition, but on Deralia fathers named sons and mothers named daughters. Typically, they picked Deralian names. But Polla had something else in mind.

Her husband sighed, and she grinned. "Come here," he said.

Polla stretched her legs out on the couch, patting her son's tiny back. He gave a little burp and his crying stopped. "You come here and sit with us," she countered. In her arms, Junior gurgled. "I think he wants you to sing to him, Sei."

Seiran settled himself down next to them and she leaned back against him. Labor had been a fracking nightmare, but so far motherhood was a blast.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you'll have cake,

And all the pretty little hessi."

"Vid frequency seventeen," her husband ordered. "Text only transmit." He smiled at her gently and Polla snuggled closer. "Let's watch the news. Once he falls asleep, I don't want to wake him up again."

"Galactic news should put him to sleep," Polla agreed. "I know it works for me every damn time."

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1, Footage from the Mandalorian Embassy

Oerin Lin: "Clan Ordo planned a coup underneath my nose. By sealing themselves to Revan, who killed my father, they thought they could wrest the title of Mandalore away from Lin." (Smiles.) "As you can see they failed."

Jokka Rai: "I still don't understand, and I'm sure our viewers at home must be similarly puzzled. How does that work?"

Oerin Lin: "My people are simple folk. From times of old, we have had simple rules and simple ways. At the end of the Mandalorian Wars, the Jedi Knight Revan bested and killed my father in single combat. Technically, that gave her a claim to our highest title. Much as long ago, Ulic Qel-Droma became an honorary leader of my people... although practically speaking, the two events are really quite different. Still, like Ulic, Revan really has no claim at all to be Mandalore. She's not one of us. Were she part of Clan Lin, (chuckles), it would be entirely different. Do you understand now?" (Pause.) "I think you do understand now. Don't you?"

Jokka Rai "Yes. I think so. I do understand now."

Oerin Lin: "I'm so pleased."

Jokka Rai: "But this is Revan Starfire we're talking about here. She—is—"

Oerin Lin: "Was—"

Jokka Rai: "Was—the—the Dark Lord of the Sith. H ow did you capture the Dark Lord of the Sith with a few Mandalorian guards? What about her Force powers?"

Oerin Lin: "Ah, yes. She has none. Not anymore. No Force at all."

Jokka Rai: "H-how can you be sure of that?"

Oerin Lin: "Mandalorians fought Jedi and Sith alike for centuries, Citizen. We have some experience with these things. I was very young, you understand, during the wars. Afterwards... well, I certainly am aware of her reputation. But Canderous Ordo became aware of her crippled state and decided to take advantage of it." (Spits on the ground.) "The duplicity of Ordo is astonishing. My people are generally… very direct."

Jokka Rai: "Oh."

XXX

Dustil had twisted his ankle running away from the CorSec squad that had appeared out of nowhere.

The black eye was from where they'd punched him when they'd cornered him in the alley.

And Arca's henchmen had shot him in the chest. That shot should have killed him, but there was no mark on him from that fight, no mark at all.

Dustil's ankle hurt, but he could walk. The night guard looked up, deceptively unconcerned when he came off the elevator. "Going out, Citizen Onasi?" The man tapped something on the console in front of him.

Dustil paused. "And if I am?"

The man shrugged. "Your father left orders you were to stay put."

Dustil stared at him, wondering if this was going to be a problem. A part of him almost wanted it to be a problem.

The guard stood up from his desk, leaning over it and switching something off. "You know what? I have to run to the 'fresher. Perhaps in my absence you took the elevator back upstairs."

"Probably," Dustil agreed, walking out the door.

My father doesn't pay that man. Senator D'Reev does. And he doesn't care where I go.

Why is that? Is it that he doesn't care, or he wants me to go?

Outside, stood the usual cluster of forlorn fangirls. There were five of them tonight, dressed in pastel jumpsuits, their brightly dyed hair flopping like feathers. One of them squealed when she saw him, but the others had more dignity.

"Hey Dustil," the tall one with green-dyed hair called out. Casual. As if they were friends.

He nodded at her. "Hey, Petra."

She pretended nonchalance, but he could tell she was thrilled that he remembered her name.

"Hey!" One of the others, a girl with dyed black hair pulled up on top of her head ran up to him. She was blushing under the heavy make-up that made her look older than she was. Sixteen—maybe — he thought. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

"What happened to you?" she asked him, taking in the black eye and the limp. Dustil kept walking, but she stuck to his side like a mynock. Behind them trailed her friend. The orange-haired one with the boobs. He'd noticed her before. She was hard not to notice.

"I got arrested."

She was impressed, he could tell. "Where are you going now?" she asked him.

I don't know. I'm trying not to think about that. A large part of him had wanted to tell his father everything, and receive some kind of paternal advice. Another part of him was terrified of what Carth would think if he knew the truth.

Last night I killed a bunch of people, Dad. I mean that was good because they were trying to kill me. But the thing is, Dad — the thing is, Father...

I was really good at it. And it was fun.

Was it Mekel who enjoyed it or me? Was there a difference?

He couldn't feel the other boy's mind at all now. He was afraid to, afraid to reach for the Force at all; but it still danced around him, shimmering, tempting—the fangirl's eyes were a deep, dark blue and her lips were shiny and pink. She was pretty. Her friend with the boobs came up on the other side of him and took his other arm.

"Hey," she said. "I'm Leesa."

Something metal clanked behind them and Dustil jumped, whirling around. His hand went instinctively to his belt where—there was nothing, not even a blaster.

"Just our shaps," the black-haired girl said, giggling.

Two protocol droids trailed them. At least they were shaped like protocol droids. They were also heavily armed.

"Shaps?"

"Chaperones. You know." Leesa laughed.

He looked at them more closely. The redhead was wearing some kind of robe that was cut almost like a Jedi's, except the fabric was embroidered and purple and gold. The black-haired girl wore a green coverall cut like a Republic uniform. The collar was trimmed with fur. They looked, he realized, rich.

"Oh," he said, shrugging.

"They let you out without one, huh?" Leesa sighed. "You're lucky."

"I never noticed them when you were standing around before," Dustil mumbled.

"You're not supposed to." Leesa smirked. "They stealth in guard mode." She clapped her hands. "Vanish CH!" One of the droids winked out of sight.

"Neat trick," Dustil muttered.

"I'm Aramis," the girl with black hair said. "You want to go get some caff or something?"

"I'm—" I have no idea where I'm going. He thought about getting the Mach, it was still in the parking garage on sub20. He thought about going to the Jedi Temple and— and what? Saying, please help me not be a Sith again? Saying, there's a group of Sith out to kill you all? Oh, and the other night I almost died except I sucked the life out of a bunch of people instead? And then I was laughing, and it felt good, it felt like what I was born to do, what I was made to do.

Me and Mekel back at the old tricks again. Only more powerful, better, and— with a shock he realized he wasn't thinking about Mission at all anymore.

It's just like Selene. She's dead, so I don't think about her anymore. Like Mom.

He tried not to think about Revan.

Trying to hurt Mekel almost killed me, Arca scared the frack out of me. How could I be so stupid, thinking I could face down Darth Revan?

"You're looking kind of tortured," Aramis said. "Was it hard, you know, when your Dad was out on that secret mission and stuff?"

"Did you, like, know about it and everything?" Leesa broke in. Her eyes were wide and a soft brown.

Mission. Secret. One of the few things that hadn't made the newsvids was where Dustil had been before Coruscant. They'd interviewed Yuthura and Thalia and 'Phile and Odoo; but not him and Mekel.

"He—visited me," Dustil said. Found me. Told me he loved me. Told me I was a good person and didn't believe in living a lie.

What was the lie, Father? What was the lie?

"Where?"

"Huh?"

"You were in school or something, right? Where?" Leesa grabbed his arm and pulled him down a side street. There was an open-air café, and she grabbed them a table in the center. Dustil's skin prickled. Most of the other tables were empty, but one was occupied by a pack of sents in apprentice white and Padawan beige. Five of them. He felt them glance his way with more than their eyes. It was a small relief at least that he didn't recognize any of them from those months at the Temple. Less of a relief that he knew they recognized him. And what he felt most from them was… fear.

"Fleet academy, one the cadet branches," Dustil said vaguely. "On Bandomir."

I wanted to go there once. Before everything blew up.

"Wow, did you meet Revan too?" Aramis asked him. Suddenly he realized something that should have been obvious. They were both dressed like her. Like Revan. Sort of. Or a version of her. Fangirl fashion.

"Yeah," Dustil said softly. "I met her."

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1

Jokka Rai: "So… let me get this straight. Clan Ordo married Revan Starfire. She married the entire clan?

Oerin Lin: (Tapping foot.) "No, just Canderous Ordo." (Laughs.) "They must have been desperate, to try such a foolish scheme. No one would support Ordo over Lin in its claim to Mandalore."

Jokka Rai: "What does Captain Onasi have to do with this?"

Oerin Lin: "Naturally, as an unmarried man I have no idea, Citizen. I suspect it was a selfish whim on Revan's part. From what I have heard about her character, it's entirely in keeping. Act first, think later." (Shrugs.) "No doubt it will be her doom."

Jokka Rai: "But from our conversation earlier I was under the impression that Ordo manipulated Revan. Didn't you say they captured her?"

Oerin Lin: "Did I? I really think our viewers might be more interested in what happens next. Don't you?"

Jokka Rai: "Y-yes, of course." (Pause.) "I think our viewers might be more interested in what happens next."

XXX

The grass rippled in the wind as they made their way over the embankment. Their human guide glanced back at them, his mouth quirking at her expression of distaste.

Tatooine was one thing: sand, sand, and more sand she could deal with. This grass and rocks mess was something else entirely. Lena wished she'd thought to pack some practical shoes.

Nico took her arm and pulled her to the top of the hill. Her breath caught. The grass stopped abruptly. In its place, the ground sloped, fused and glassy in the shape of a vast blasted crater.

"This is it?" she said, dubious, her heart sinking. Another wild ronto chase, Nico's going to be furious. He'd been so optimistic during their journey, she hated to think of how he would react now.

The tan-colored human nodded. "There were some ancient ruins here, once. My family bought the grazing rights when we immigrated from Corulag; but the Jedi Council owned the ruins, technically. I'm not really sure you can buy them…." his voice trailed off.

Not that there's anything left to buy.

Nico's face broke into a happy smile. "It's here," he said. "And it's... alive, I think. I think — this will work!" He patted Lena's arm absently and then ran down the slope of the crater.

"Darth Malak's fleet did this?" he called back up to them.

"Yes," the human said, bleakly. Lena glanced at him.

"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly ashamed of Nico's exuberance in the face of the man's obvious pain.

Below them her lover spun in a circle, arms raised to the sky, laughing with glee. "Come down here, Lena!" he called out. "Come down!"

Lena picked her way down into the crater, her heels slipping a little on the fused slope. Her skin prickled. The signs of war were everywhere on Dantooine still, but this place seemed to have suffered the heaviest bombardment. Is he insane? How can Nico think this bomb crater is... whatever he thinks it is?

And what is that, exactly? Never you mind. Keep your mind on the capital, Lena. Nico does what Nico does. None of your lekkuwax.

Their guide followed her down. Nico turned to him, excitedly.

"We'll need to excavate," he said, beaming. "And I'll need to set up an installation for access."

The man frowned. "My family only owned the grazing rights." he began, voice trailing off uncertainly. "The Jedi Council would own the rest of it. If the rumors are true and this is really where the Star Map was."

Nico's lekku flicked impatiently. "The Jedi are all gone, now," he pointed out, blunt as always. "And I don't see any Star Map, or any ruins. So doesn't the land right revert to you and your family?"

The human flushed. "I don't have any family. Not anymore." He took a deep breath. Lena felt sorry for him. He's not much more than a kid.

"Were you here… during?" she asked him

He nodded at her. "I only just got back myself. It's still… a little hard to take." He looked around them at the blackened earth and the fused ground. "R-Rahasia and I used to come here, sometimes. It was one of the places that her father wouldn't look for us." His mouth twisted, and he kicked the ground, angrily. "Funny how things work out," he whispered, closing his eyes. "The land wasn't worth anything for so long… and now, when I don't need the cash, Koonda's consortium shows up to buy my father's farm. Then you too—with an offer on this."

"We'll give you a good price," Nico said.

Lena gritted her teeth. Motta had more tact than you Nico Senvi and that's saying a lot.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Shen," she offered.

"It's funny," he echoed again. "I thought I'd lost everything the day that the Sith bombed Dantooine, but at least I still had Rahasia. But now she's dead." He paused. "Give me whatever you think is fair for the land. I don't really care."

"Rahasia?" Nico's lekku twitched. "Rahasia from Dantooine? Surely, you can't mean Rahasia Sandral? The famous actress?"

Chuba-for-brains, Nico! Someday she'd have to teach the man some tact.

But to her surprise, her lover's obliviousness almost seemed to help. Shen Mutale actually laughed.

"Famous? Only in her dreams. Rahasia's one claim to fame was her Revan imitation. That's all she could get work doing." He looked wistful for a moment. "We met her, you know. Revan. She... when she was on Dantooine she made our families accept us. Our families had been fighting ever since we were kids, but Revan helped. She — she was a good person."

Lena didn't know how to answer that. She'd seen the vids and what they were saying about Revan now. And about Mission—and the others Revan had killed.

Poor Little Blue, always expecting the best and getting the crap end of the blaster.

"Your Republic is hard on the leaders of its rebellions," Nico Senvi offered. He had that faraway look in his eyes again. "Some things never change. Whatever Revan is I doubt she'll find any justice here."

Shen frowned. "My Republic?" He laughed. "It's your Republic too?"

"Of course," Nico answered. His brow ridge furrowed. "We'll give you a good offer on the land rights. Talk to Lena about it. She does all the numbers. I hate numbers."

"How much of the land do you want?" Shen asked. The expression on his face said that he didn't really care.

"Just this part here," Nico answered, thoughtless. He knelt on the ground, placing his palm against the fused surface. He muttered something in that language that wasn't one, a happy smile on his face.

We'll have to buy more than just the damn bomb crater, Nico. Lena sighed and turned her attention back to Shen Mutale. "At least a few square kilometers worth," she promised him. She looked up. High to the north against the darkening skyline loomed a vast sculpture, two figures carved in stone, bold in Jedi robes against the horizon. "What's that?" she asked pointing.

The human followed her gaze. "Oh. The memorial to Bastila Shan and Revan Starfire. They've—they've been having trouble lately with vandals lately."

"Shocking disrespect," muttered Nico from the ground. Then a pause. "Can we buy that too?"

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1

Jokka Rai: "So, Fett Lin, what does happen next?"

Oerin Lin: "Well, after I am appointed titular leader of my people, I will see that Revan Starfire receives what she deserves."

Jokka Rai: "Don't you think that's a matter for the Republic to decide? Ah, I mean, she is a Republic citizen." (Frowns.) "Or the Jedi—surely the Jedi might have something to say about—"

Oerin Lin: "Seriously, when have the Jedi ever said much of anything?"

Jokka Rai: (Nervous laughter.)

XXX

"Dustil? Dustil Onasi?" Great, just great. One of the Jedi got up and came over to their table. Male, maybe about his own age, maybe a little older, with fluffy blonde hair and a serious expression on his face. Too serious. The boy hesitated. "You're— troubled," he said.

No shit? Dustil thought back at him, hard. The blonde boy flinched. He wore apprentice white, and he was weak.

"Mical!" One of the Padawans called to him sharply.

The boy glanced back at her. "We can't just leave him like this!" he shot back.

"He's a fracking Sith," one of the others muttered. Miraluka, Dustil thought. The Padawan wore a brown veil where his eyes should be.

"This is Carth Onasi's son," Leesa said indignantly. "What do you mean, Sith?"

" He knows," muttered one of the others. A white Twi'lek girl. Pretty. Her head tails flicked at him. What they said wasn't very Jedi-like. Dustil made a rude gesture with the palm of his hand and his arm.

Yes, a warm reception I'd get at the Jedi Temple. More of this crap.

The waiter who had come to take their order backed away.

Dustil realized he was standing on his feet again, without even realizing how he'd gotten there. It would be so easy to show them how weak they all were. So easy. The Force whispered like a siren's call.

The hell with this. He turned to leave.

Only that blonde kid was in his way.

"The Sith will come for you," Dustil told him. He wasn't sure if it was a warning or a threat.

"You're injured." The boy frowned and reached his hand up to Dustil's face. Cooling, white light licked around his body. He felt the boy trembling with the effort, he was weak. But Dustil's ankle stopped hurting, and the pain around his eye vanished.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"The Force is strong within you. You could be a great healer, if you let your own wounds close, Dustil Onasi," the boy said.

"Hey, did you hear what I said? The Sith are coming for you. For the Council. Do you get it? I met some of their welcoming party last night."

The boy's eyes widened, but he set his jaw stubbornly and didn't back down. "I do not fear the Sith."

"Are you like a Jedi, Dustil? Wow!" Aramis' voice, impressed, somewhere behind him.

"I'm not a Jedi," Dustil muttered.

"You could be," the blonde boy insisted. "Come with us."

"He's not coming with us," one of the other Padawans behind him said.

"We swore to help those in need!" Mical shot back. "Can't you feel his pain? Can't you see how much he suffers?"

The white Twi'lek got to her feet and crossed her arms. Her face was expressionless, her voice hard. "What I see, is a Sith, Mical. You're in no position to help anyone yourself. You don't have a Master, you're probably going to be asked to leave the Academy yourself.

"My own failings aren't the issue, Loyana," Mical responded. "We were taught that no one is beyond redemption. No one. If the lesson of Revan Starfire means anything at all—"

"Oh, no, here we go again," an apprentice muttered, rolling his eyes.

"—Revan's story teaches us that no one is beyond redemption. No one."

"Banthacrap. That's banthacrap," hissed the Twi'lek.

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1, Footage from the Mandalorian Embassy

Jokka Rai: "I am sure that to most of you, the lady here with us now needs no introduction."

Oerin Lin: "Just say what you feel, Helena. It will all be fine."

General Jiya Sand: "Helena, we have to be going now."

Helena Shan: "N-no, I'm fine, Jiya. I'm… fine."

Jokka Rai: "If you could please, Helena, tell our viewers at home your first thoughts upon seeing Revan Starfire."

Helena Shan: "My first… thoughts? That woman killed my Bastila! And Carth Onasi—that traitor! He—he was just standing there!"

General Jiya Sand: "Helena, we really need to be going."

Oerin Lin: "In many cultures there are stages to grief. Blame is certainly one of them. But your daughter died a hero, Helena Shan, did she not?"

Helena Shan: "Those rumors… they aren't true!"

Jokka Rai: "Rumors? What rumors?"

Oerin Lin: "I'm sure no one believes the rumors about Bastila Shan becoming Malak's apprentice. Sith propaganda, you know how nasty the Sith can be. Animals. All of them. You can see why they lost the war."

Jokka Rai: "That's just gossip, nothing more. No reputable HoloNet source has ever—"

Helena Shan: "It's not true!"

Oerin Lin: "Of course it isn't. The Jedi would never cover up something like that. From what I've heard their integrity is unquestionable. Sacrosanct."

Helen Shan: "My daughter was a hero! She sacrificed her life trying to stop that woman!"

Oerin Lin: "You know, I've seen some holovids about what happened to Bastila on the Leviathan... terrible things. Poor girl. And yet— "

Jokka Rai: "Those are works of fiction, Fett Lin. And unsanctioned by the legal media.

Oerin Lin: "Oh. My apologies. I was raised on the Rim, and I am not familiar with your Core customs. Pardon, but there was one of them, the Telosian version, I think it was, that was most interesting. Are you saying they're all entirely fictitious? Appalling!"

XXX

By the way... That was perfect. Just the right amount of outrage.

I didn't tell you to use Helena, Oerin. That wasn't fracking necessary!

Revan made herself keep walking. Their makeshift escort flanked her, a few of them chuckling softly to themselves.

Wasn't it? She could hear his soft laughter ringing through her head. You looked entirely too complacent standing there. Not at all like a woman betrayed. This plan is bad enough as it is. You can hardly blame me for throwing in my own twist.

You can't just use people like that!

What do you think we've been doing, Rev? And this is a terrible plan, have I told you that already?

He had, mockingly in her mind about twenty times since the one waitress had resisted her Force compulsion. Ever since Carth caught her arm, Revan had the sensation of everything spiraling out of control. Her lover throwing the holomask chip down the stairs had only been the last sequence in a chain of events that made what came next inevitable.

I had no choice.

You could have controlled the pilot. You let yourself be discovered too soon. They're interviewing Helena Shan now. The things she says… it will be so touching later, when she forgives you for Bastila's death.

Do not act without my orders again.

You didn't give me much to work with. We needed the distraction. Without it, more would wonder why the Dark Lord of the Sith didn't put up a fight.

I'm not—the Dark Lord of the Sith!

I know! That's what the reporter is saying now. He's surprisingly malleable for a Bothan. I thought they were supposed to be as Force-resistant as Mandalorians. You should really thank me. Without me, this would be even more of a mess than it is. But it's not going to hold together long.

Carth was so quiet. He walked next to her, still holding her hand tightly, but his eyes were blank, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He was beyond angry, she realized. He was furious.

Somehow they made it to the elevators and back the Mandalorian apartments. She willed herself not to feel her own confusion, or see the dark mist that seemed to surround Carth whenever she looked at him. His hand was holding hers tightly.

That's what's important, that's what matters. He's here.

One of their mock guards let out a cheer as the doors closed and locked behind them.

Carth looked at her warily and dropped her hand as if it burned. He backed away, his eyes scanning the room, the Mandalorians standing around them. "What the hell was that, Revan?"

"The sorriest excuse for a Mandalorian wedding that I've ever seen." Canderous answered him, gruffly. The warrior sighed and turned to Revan. "We did what you wanted, didn't we? Gwen was convinced, but I wasn't sure—and Oerin couldn't exactly talk out loud, not with those maffasops hovering." He frowned. "Just tell me those were your orders, not his?"

"I didn't tell him to use Helena like that," Revan said dully. "But the rest, yes. My orders." Inside she was numb. The slash on Canderous's face was already scabbed over, thanks to his implant. The one on Carth's cheek still bled, and his expression was so dark. What have I done?

Canderous sighed. 'We've put our necks on the line for you, pilot." His scarred eyebrow lifted as he considered Carth. "And you look terrible." He paused. "But it's good to see you again."

"Canderous," Carth nodded slightly, acknowledging him. His stance was cautious. A trawler deer surrounded by wild hessi. "What the hell is going on?"

"The Third Wife's plan makes perfect sense to me." Aemelie's voice laughed, as she unsnapped the helm she wore, and pulled it off her head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. "If the barbarians knew she was Lin, they wouldn't accept Oerin as Mandalore—because she would outrank him. Still, she could not let herself be taken. Coruscantis love their little treacheries. So, we gave them something they could understand. Every sentient race loves weddings." She nodded approvingly at Revan. "You could almost have been raised by proper women, coming up with something like that. Octiva must have taught you."

And it was exactly what you wanted all along. So you're happy. It's nice someone is.

Revan forced her lips into an empty smile.

Aemelie ignored her and beamed at Carth. "As the First Husband of the Mandalore, there certain responsibilities you will have. I don't expect you to know them, but my husband will be happy to instruct you. And now that Lin is tied to Ordo— "

"If you'll excuse me, Second Wife, I'd like to speak to Carth alone. In my rooms." Revan interrupted, gritting her teeth.

The look that Carth shot her was beyond hatred. I'm sorry, she thought at him, uselessly.

"What the hell is this, Revan?" he hissed, backing away from Aemelie's familial embrace.

Aemelie laughed. "You don't need to ask my permission for that, Third Wife!"

"Blue says the nets are already going crazy," Mekel interjected.

"Any news from Fleet? Anything official from anyone?" As much as she wanted to drag Carth away from this, Revan had to know.

If I guessed wrong, we're doomed.

Mekel shook his head. "Not yet, she thinks it will be soon though." He frowned. "She also says to tell you this is a stupid plan." He ducked his head and looked at the floor.

Revan glanced around the room. The other guards were taking off their helms too and laughing. Young, excited faces, beaming at her. In another second they'd be shooting rifles in the air and singing battle hymns.

Damn Oerin. Why did you have to pull that stunt with Helena Shan? It was easy to recognize the familiar emotion she felt now too. Guilt.

Banish it. The plan changes, on with the plan.

Revan took a deep breath. "Mekel, I need you to go back upstairs and monitor the guests. Help Oerin if you can, with the Force. Just stay in the background, keep an ear out for what is being said and by who. We need to know what they're saying."

So we can manipulate it. Banish the guilt, banish it. Lock it away.

"Mekel? You're Mekel?" Carth frowned, looking at the unfamiliar face. "You don't look… Oh. You're wearing another holomask?"

The boy nodded at him. "Captain Onasi. Did Dustil—I mean—have you seen him?"

"He's at home." Carth looked like a man suddenly waking up from a dream. He glanced at Revan and then looked away fast again. "Whatever this is, Revan, I need to go. I need to go home. Dustil's there."

Mekel looked at the ground. "Sir. He's not at home. He's—somewhere outside. I can't tell any more than that." His face flushed.

"You have some kind of… bond. With my son." Carth made the word 'bond' sound ugly. "He told me. You—were on Korriban with him. You came here with him. The other night when he disappeared, he went to meet you?"

"Yes." Mekel sounded defensive. "Mission said he was okay. The CorSec didn't hurt him—much. I—would have known if they had."

"You let my son get arrested? What exactly were you doing?" Carth's voice was dangerous now.

"I was trying to talk to him. Me and Zaalbar and Mission…."

"Mission! That computer?"

Mekel shrugged uncomfortably. "S-she says she's glad to see you too."

Carth winced and turned back to Revan. "I'm not even going to ask how he knows what your computer is saying. Not now. Just tell me. What the hell happened? What the hell is this, Revan?"

"Commander Wann shipped you off on the Pearl," Mission said herself, rolling her T3 chassis into the room. "Ostensibly it's a diplomatic ship but they've got a surprising number of psych personnel on board. And media people. That part of the Fleet is in pretty thick with Senator D'Reev. They fracked with your head, Carth." The lights on her dome flashed green.

"Big Z wants to see you. He's still kinda hurt. So you should come to him. Oh, and Polla-Revan—Captain Ekkumi just sent a transmit to Fleet HQ. Troop request. They're cordoning off the building. No orders to come inside, but no one's allowed to leave without a proper idscan either." She beeped. "I'm not the only one that monitors these things—the other embassies and the guests are all getting out fast. All non-essential personnel. Did you hear me when I said this was a stupid plan?"

Her processors whirred. "Nice outfit, by the way, Pilot Flyboy. Very shiny. And congratulations! I guess you and Polla-Revan are finally married, huh? I always knew you would… one of these days."

Carth was pale.

Please be okay, Carth.

"Married. That was… real?"

"Totally legal and everything!" Mission chirped.

"I'm not surprised about the Fleet sending troops." Revan was surprised at how calm her voice was. We'll be trapped here until they trot me out before the Senate. But better that than a cell.

"CorSec guards are there too. On behalf of the Senate," Mission chirped.

Two out of three. "And the Jedi?" Revan resisted the urge to try and sense any close presence with the Force.

"Seems to me, the Jedi could give this whole thing away." Mission added. "They haven't done anything yet. The Council is in chambers. Probably glued to their holostreams with the rest of the galaxy."

Canderous coughed. "The Jedi aren't the only ones that could end this charade before it's begun, Revan."

I know that, Canderous. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach again. I'm betting everything on the character of a man I don't remember.

Two of the Rialis children ran through the room, engaged in some game of chase. They paid the adults no attention at all.

Mission added casually. "And a transmit from Manaan. One-way. Vrook Lamar says to be careful, you risk more than yourself." She whirred. "Jedi kinda just say the obvious, don't they? You know, sis, it's Manaan that you should worry about."

I risk everything. And everyone. The children ran past her, laughing.

You always did, Red. For a moment she felt the cold press of metal against her neck and the sensation of strong arms around her.

What are you doing, what is this? You're hiding it from me. Tell me, Revan. I can't help you if I don't know.

The air was suddenly very cold.

"Manaan." Her throat was dry and Carth was just looking at her with that terrible expression. "Why, Manaan, Mission?"

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1

Helena Shan: "I've heard what they whisper, when they think I'm not listening. They say my Bastila fell to the dark side just like all those other Jedi did. It's a lie. I was her mother—wouldn't I know?"

Jokka Rai: "There, now, Citizen, don't cry. Are you worried, now that Revan Starfire has revealed herself?"

Helena Shan: "Worried?" (Shakes head.) "Oerin Lin will keep us safe from her. Won't you Oerin?"

Oerin Lin: "Oh, most definitely."

General Jiya Sand: "This—this farce has gone on long enough. I'm taking Helena home now."

Oerin Lin: "Actually I should be going as well. I need to see to my people downstairs. Ordo must pay properly for their transgression, you understand."

Jokka Rai (Taps communicator, as the camera pans out to show a mostly cleared roof garden.) "As you can see, most of the guests have gone. I'm receiving a transmission from our studios. Further coverage will be coming from there. Stay tuned, sentients! Will the fate of the galaxy be decided in the next few hours?"

Oerin Lin: "Fate of the galaxy? Really… she's just a woman with no Force powers. There's no need for dramatics."

Jokka Rai: "She's just a woman with no Force powers. There's no need for dramatics."

XXX

"I'll tell the Senator you're here."

The guard looked dubious as he tapped commands into his console. Then surprised.

"He says you can come right up, Citizen Onasi."

"Thanks," Dustil answered. Halfway up in the elevator he felt the now-familiar deadening, as his Force-sense vanished. In a way that was almost a relief.

But it's not the Senator I want to talk to.

He'd left the Jedi and the fangirls, just walked out on them all. He'd get around the old man somehow. After all, hadn't the Senator said he wanted Korrie and Dustil to be friends?

Well fine then. Friends talk. We'll have a friendly chat.

Just the three of us.

Malachi D'Reev met him at the door. Unusual. Normally he had the butler or that creepy droid do that.

"Dustil," the old man said, frowning. "You've heard the news?"

"News?" Dustil shrugged. "I just wanted to apologize for the other night. For lying to you and Korrie. For standing you up with your dinner plans." He looked at the marble floor, looked ashamed. Looked harmless. Like a kid. Go away old man, me and your grandson are gonna have a little talk.

"You haven't heard." Senator D'Reev frowned and sighed. His expression was troubled and concerned. He was good at that, but Dustil didn't buy it. Not for a second.

Behind him the door slid shut and the lock clicked.

"What news?"

The old man took a deep breath. "Your father—" he began.

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1, HoloNet newsroom footage.

Anchorwoman Iyrass K'chk: "Thank you Jokka. That was Jokka Rai, our reporter on the ground at the Mandalorian Embassy. Back here at the studios, the mood is—confused. Can all this be true? Can Revan Starfire really be captured by the Mandalorians? And what about her Force Powers? Can they really be gone? Joining me now is Jrii Vail, a childhood companion of Revan's from the Arkanian Jedi Academy. You may remember this good Duros from the Official Coruscant Version. Jrii, it's a pleasure to have you with us. Tell us about your first reactions to the news."

Jrii Vail: "Well of course there were rumors that she was on Coruscant, I mean, everyone heard them." (Laughs.) "So it's not such a surprise, is it?"

Anchorwoman Iyrass: "Yes, but what does it mean?"

Jrii Vail: "Well it's a matter for the Senate to decide, isn't it? I mean, technically she's a war criminal—"

Anchorwoman Iyrass: "Yes, yes of course. But it doesn't seem so long ago that she was the hero of our age, does it?"

Jrii Vail: "I may just be a simple businesswoman, but honestly I am worried about this Mandalorian issue. Can we really trust them?"

XXX

"What the frack is the Gamemaster doing posing as the heir to Mandalore?" Sheris's clipped Hothan accent only came out when she was upset.

On the holoscreen the clip played again. The woman's face was an unscarred version of Sheris's own. The original, Yuthura thought, watching. Revan's features twisted with hate again as she said something threatening to the golden-haired man and the woman in orange and black at his side. Bastila's mother. She'd met the woman briefly, during the filming of the Official Coruscant version. Behind Revan stood Captain Onasi, looking confused, and the Mandalorian they had traveled with. Canderous Ordo.

"Are you sure that's Lin?" Beya Organa was never far from Sheris's side these days. The Deralian rubbed her friend's neck, trying to ease the tension.

Sheris looked at them all incredulously. "I don't understand how you aren't sure. He was here for months!"

Davad Arkan frowned, rubbing his forehead as if it hurt. "We never saw his face."

Yuthura's lekku twitched uneasily. "Of course it's him," she said, puzzled at Beya and Davad's confusion. "I saw his face—we all did, when he took off his mask in the training room."

The Onderonite looked at her blankly. "Darth Lin had dark hair. And a scar."

"No he didn't."

"It's him," Sheris' voice was toneless. "I was—closer to him than most." Her prosthetic hand picked at the dull metal mask that covered half of her features, hiding the horrible burns. "His tricks didn't always work on me." Her good eye blinked a few times.

"Lin is Mandalorian," Yuthura admitted, almost absently. The matter of Oerin Lin was curious, but her attention was focused on Revan. Revan and her pilot. Should I wish you congratulations, my first friend? Or pray to the Force? The brief conversation she'd had with Captain Onasi haunted her now. The man hadn't seemed to understand a word of it, and yet there he of them looked like they'd been hit with a flash grenade. "Vrook implied as much."

"A Sith Mandalorian?" Davad sounded skeptical.

"He was no Sith," Sheris answered. "He was a Mandalorian. " She made the word sound admiring and like a curse at the same time. "Kun save us from another one ever being born that can use the Force."

"What is he doing with Revan?" Vikor asked softly, looking up from the floor and the nest of wires that had once been their monitoring system. The Rylothian was good at disabling their surveillance monitors. Since they'd discovered this they'd been able to speak more freely. But the commlinks were another matter entirely.

"What is Revan doing with him?" Gharen countered. "She hated Mandalorians."

"She's not our Revvie," Beya had half-pulled Sheris onto her lap, rubbing her shoulders to calm her like one would gentle an animal. Her own expression was at odds with the comfort she offered; her mouth twisted in a feral smile. "Look at the way she stands, her voice. She's a shell of the woman she was. Nothing more."

"That' s the redemption they'd offer?" Sheris murmured, her head buried in the taller girl's shoulder. "You promised us more, Yuthura Ban."

"That's what redemption is," Davad answered. "For the lucky."

On the floor Vikor gave a harsh laugh.

"Promised?" Yuthura's laughter was hard. "I promised you nothing except your lives. Did you enjoy being as you were so much?"

"What we've seen, you can't understand." Armon Wu whispered. "Attack ships on fire off the shores of Dagary Minor...c-beams glittering in the dark near the Tanhauser Gate as the Republic Fleet crumbled and died. We've seen entire worlds die in a heartbeat. Or burn and suffer for weeks, crippled and screaming as each life on them cried out to be saved. Or for the pain to —s top." His voice shook. "And we made the pain stop. We ended it for them all."

"At first, it was easy," Sheris said. "Because of her." The look in her eyes was almost worshipful. Still. Too easy to see the brash Padawan she'd been once, and the Sith minion she had become. "With Revan to guide us, the war was a game. Patterns. Death and life in balance. She made us not feel them. But then, when we finally had to feel them…."

"Then she made us what we are," whispered Vikor from the floor. He shot Yuthura a half-apologetic smile. "It was different for you, bakata—" the Ryl endearment made her skin flush. "You came to the Sith cause willingly. But we—"

"We were forged," whispered Davad Arkan, staring at the screen. "We were chosen. My old Master tried to warn me, but it was already too late. I was... " His eyes closed for a moment. "I was a good Jedi, once—or I thought I was; but I was wrong. All the good Jedi went to Malachor V. On her orders. And all the good Jedi died there."

Yuthura was losing her patience. I've heard this all before. You've told me the same stories a thousand times. "I joined the Sith because they were expedient. A means to an end. They told me to kill, and I killed. But soldiers kill, people die in wars every day. The Sith gave you power. Strength to achieve your goals. You need to take responsibility for what you did with them!"

What am I saying? For a moment black spots danced in front of her eyes and she felt a copper taste in her mouth. Familiar madness, safe and comforting as a warm blanket.

Beya Organa laughed at her. "And how is the eradication of the slave trade going, Yuthura Ban? Have your people broken their chains yet? Have you begun the glorious Twi'lek revolution?"

Vikor only stared. What was in his eyes, he didn't have to say. Bile, deep in her throat. She'd been born on Sleheyron. He was from Ryloth itself, the Twi'lek homeworld where her people bred and sold themselves for profit. His family had been on the side of the profiteers. The divide between them— master and chattel— yawned wide again. Despite their shared affection, it always would.

There was no good answer. Or easy answer. For the first time, Yuthura understood why the Jedi Code truncated the world into simple divisions: good and evil, black and white.

It's easier, than facing the truth.

XXX

Transcript from Coruscant HoloNet broadcast, widebeam, galactic distribution, GS1, HoloNet newsroom footage.

Anchorwoman Iyrass: "I've just received word that the Galactic Chancellor, C'tek Nal'Gahar is going to make an official statement very soon. We've still heard nothing from the Jedi Council, which I'm sure comes as no great surprise—"

(Off-camera voice: "No commentary, Citizen, just the facts.")

Anchorwoman Iyrass: (Coughs.) "The facts. Well, to recap for our viewers just tuning in: in a startling turn of events, Revan Starfire has been captured by the Mandalorians after a rather… incomprehensible attempt to avoid her fate by marrying into one of their clans. I'm not an expert on Mandalorian culture, but joining me now is someone who is. This is Xarga Wies, formerly a Mandalorian warrior, now a citizen of the Republic. Tell me Citizen Wies, what do you think of the new Mandalore, and his so-called capture of Revan Starfire?"

Xarga Wies: "We have a saying. 'Gar taldin ni jaonyc.' No one cares about your father. Mandalorians are not ruled by unblooded children. The Lin cub has no real claim."

Anchorwoman Iyrass: "Well, that's interesting—but those other Mandalorians seem to believe he does. Why is that? And what do you mean by 'blooded?' Are you saying that a Mandalorian has to kill to be your leader?"

Xarga Wies: "Well, of course. Don't your Republic leaders prove themselves in battle?"

Anchorwoman Iyrass: (Laughs.) "Of course not! The Republic is a peaceful confederation of worlds! We're civilized!"

Xarga Wies: "Does saying that help you sleep at night, Citizen?"

(Off-camera voice: "Get him back on topic, please.")

XXX

The old man led him into the library. The marble walls shimmered and chattered, with a cacophony of broadcasts, widebeam from all sectors of the galaxy. In the center above the desk, the image Dustil didn't want to see. Revan and his father, surrounded by Mandalorians. His father had a cut on his cheek and blood welled from it. His father looked furious—and still somehow blank.

" So, if Oerin Lin has no claim to the title, what does this mean regarding Revan?"

" Clan politics are not something I'd expect an outsider to understand."

" —here on Manaan, eyes turn to the fate of the Selkath Ten. Now that their leader, Darth Revan has been captured by the Mandalorians—"

" ... in session and have no comment at this time. Speculation runs rampant that the Jedi Council will make an announcement soon..."

" Hothan leaders deny any relationship between the Dark Lord of the Sith and their planet."

" —riots in Cinnegar have been linked to the gathering unrest."

" ... rumors of more infighting on Ziost today as the news from the Republic—"

" Corulag officials demand that the Senate take some action. Mandalorian—"

" Yu-Phaedrans fear for a return to the old days of Sith occupation."

" ... expected, the Onderon royal family has issued the following statement: 'We are an independent monarchy, with no ties to Lord Starfire—"

" The Echanis system threatens to secede from the Republic unless full reparations for the battle of Echanis are—."

"Audio off," the Senator said. The voices ceased their whispers.

Dustil was not going to give the old man the satisfaction of seeing his response. Don't show fear. Don't show shock. Don't show anything.

The images continued to be projected on the walls, interjected by clips of Darth Revan and Sith ships.

What a fracking mess.

The old man's face pulled into a smile, watching him. "Innocence lost is a sad thing, but sometimes necessary. Don't you find it so?"

"What did you have to do with this?" Dustil asked him. He tried to keep his voice steady, tried not to let his fury show.

The Senator sighed. "With this?" He waved his hand at the frozen images surrounding them. "With this? Nothing. This debacle is Revan's work. It's my job to clean it up."

Something moved behind them. The Senator didn't look surprised, he simply raised his eyebrows and spoke.

"Malachor. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Dustil whirled around. He heard a gasp, a child's indrawn breath. A patch of air shimmered.

Stealth field, the kid's gotten better at sneaking. Dustil would have expected tears... but the kid stood there, chin up, glaring at his grandfather.

"What are you going to do now, Grandfather?" Gray eyes met gray. Both of them the color of durasteel and just as hard.

"I'm going to work," the old man said. His shoulders straightened, painfully thin under his clumsy formal robes and heavy ridiculous collar. He folded his hands neatly in front of him, and bowed almost ceremoniously to his grandson. "And you will stop trying to spy on me."

The kid bit his lip. "I wanted to know!"

The old man shrugged. "Are you so eager to be an adult, Korrie?" His voice softened, slightly, but his words weren't soft at all. "Everything I have done to prepare the future for you has been undone. By her presence. By her existence."

"She's my mother, " the kid hissed stubbornly. "And she's good now!"

The Senator shrugged, walking over to his desk, tapping commands into the console set on its surface. "You want to be an adult, Malachor? Let me pose an adult question to you: does it matter more what her intentions are or what she has done?" He glanced at Dustil, mockingly. "Do you think it matters to young Onasi here?"

The kid looked at Dustil as if seeing him for the first time.

"Why are you here, Dustil?" Korrie asked him. The kid's nose was running, and he wiped it on his sleeve.

"He says he came to apologize for not coming to dinner the other night," Malachi D'Reev murmured, tapping intently at his console. He settled into his chair. "Text only," he commanded it, and the green letters on the desk's flat surface reflected over his face, lighting it with an eerie, cadaverous glow.

"I came because I want to know the truth," Dustil interrupted. That wasn't why, but it would do. Suddenly it seemed very important. "What did you do to my father, Senator D'Reev?"

The old man laughed. "Your father is a hero, boy. I did nothing. But you... you are something else. What were you really doing in the sublevels the other night?" He examined Dustil as if he were a specimen under a microscanner. "I managed to keep the corpses out of the official report. Blaster burns, lightsaber, vibroblades… and something else. Most of the Underground won't talk to our troops of course, but bribes are effective. Especially at a certain establishment owned by a Deeka Jin—at least nominally. Isn't Jin the surname of your little Korriban friend?"

"What did you do to my father?" Dustil repeated. Don't try and blackmail me, you asshole. Where his father was now—the Mandalorian Embassy? Married to Revan? All of that was something he'd deal with later. Right now he wanted to know the truth.

The old man shrugged. "I've read your files from Dreshdae. Surely one such as you can understand the practicality of bringing someone around to your way of thinking?" His voice lowered, thoughtful, as he continued to tap commands on the screen. "Uthar thought you had potential. As did the Ban woman." His lips curled in slight distaste.

"How can you know that?" Dustil didn't realize he was yelling until the words came out. "What are you?" He backed away from the old man, realizing too late the door behind him was locked now.

The kid edged slightly closer to him, hands clenched in fists. The Senator's expression changed, noticing that. "Sit down, Malachor," he said, almost pleasantly. "I thought you wanted to know more about your parents."

"You lie about them!" the kid's voice was fierce and low. But he backed obediently into one of the heavy chairs set against the wall. He curled into it, legs hugged to his chest, rocking slightly back and forth. His grandfather watched, expressionless.

The old man looked at the frozen tableau of the holoscreen in the middle of the room. Revan and Carth, surrounded by Mandalorians. His hand tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Is she ignorant, do you suppose? Or very, very clever? If she really was Revan, the choice would be obvious. A faraway smile pulled at his mouth. "Revan was both."

"What are you?" Dustil demanded. He realized his hands were sweating. "A-are you Sith?"

"Hardly," Malachi D'Reev scoffed. "I'm a Senator. Through your parents, Malachor, I would give you three Empires," he added. "And through my guidance, the knowledge to lead them."

"I don't want any stupid empires," the kid whispered, biting his lip. He wiped his nose again. His eyes were still dry and cold.

The Senator laughed. "Nor did I at your age. But little boys grow into men. If they survive that long. You have a responsibility to the Republic. As I did. As all D'Reevs do. Someday perhaps, you will understand." He paused, frowning. "If the worlds your parents ravaged let you live."

"I'm leaving," Dustil announced. "Frack this, frack all of it."

"A poor servant of the Republic I would be, letting a Sith murderer loose amongst an unsuspecting populace," Malachi D'Reev replied. "The time to let you fly free, Dustil Onasi, has passed. You have a new utility now." The old man got up from his desk and turned and spoke to thin air. "Watch him closely, HK. I'll be back in an hour or two." His pale eyes were hooded. Another stealth field shimmered in the middle of the room and the droid's figure emerged, armed, with a blaster rifle aimed right at Dustil. Dustil made himself not jump, not make any sudden moves.

"You can't keep me here!" he said indignantly.

The old man chuckled. "No? Keep him downstairs and away from Malachor's rooms," he told the droid. He gave his grandson a smile. "Korrie, perhaps you could see if the lad wants anything to eat. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" the kid asked. His voice was small and scared.

"An errand. None of your concern."

"Don't hurt her!" The kid was really pale, and his eyes were finally breaking out in waterworks.

Malachi D'Reev laughed. "It's too late to hurt her, Korrie. She'd serve no purpose dead now." His voice gentled. "How can you care for a woman who abandoned you? We'll discuss this more when I return. See to our guest now. Sometimes I wonder if you've learned nothing at all." He shook his head in disgust and walked away. The doors to the library slid open then shut behind him.

Dustil's mouth opened and closed. Frack this! Get out, get and go—

Go where?

The kid was crying softly to himself wiping his nose on his sleeve. He stood in front of the holoimage of his mother and Carth and reached out to touch the insubstantial image. His fingers passed through Revan's arm, splashed blue in the flickering light. "I don't understand," he whispered, turning his face back to Dustil. "What is she doing? Why didn't she just come and rescue me?"

"I'm getting out of here," Dustil muttered. Somehow. Getting the frack out of here... now. No. Wait. Father—I can comm him. I can tell him.

He turned back, pushing past the kid to the commlink.

The console was dark and silent now, the holostills frozen above them. Dustil hit the desk with his fist.