Hey everyone! My life's still pretty explosive, but most of the fireworks have burned themselves out, so the next chapters *should be* pretty soon. Thanks for your patience, and the reviews--nothing's a better pick-me-up than those :)
If this gets confusing, then it's because I'm naturally an overthinker. Lots of artistic interpretation of exactly how the Force works is in store (but a little bit of violence, too, so there should be something for everyone). Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own KotOR
Fracture: the act of breaking; the state of being broken
Ashi's lips were wet and cold, slick with rain, and for a moment a part of Carth demanded to know what he thought he was doing, but then she stiffened in his arms. For a moment, she was kissing him back—just a moment, but he thought it counted for a lot more than it sounded like—but then she jerked back, gasping for breath. Her hand was lightning-fast, and he only felt his head snap back, pain erupting through his cheek below his eye. He was almost expecting another blow—knowing Ashi, one not to the face but to somewhere even more painful—but when she raised her hand again, it wavered in midair, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Carth?"
He glanced down at her hopefully. "Yes?"
Her face contorted with anger, and for a split second he had time to suspect he'd just made it worse. This time he did see it coming, but it didn't hurt any less for that. Her fist connected with his nose with an agonizing crunch; a moment later he tasted blood, metallic and salty, beginning to drip down his face, trickling off his lip with the rain. Despite all that, his first thought was a dazed sort of respect. She really could throw a punch, he observed, in the instant before her voice cut through the howling storm like a knife.
"What the frack are you doing?"
She'd already known it was him, sort of: that was to say, if she'd thought about it during the kiss, she might have realized. Now, however it was a little late. Besides, suddenly being kissed by a stranger was bad enough, but suddenly being kissed by him… he had no right! There was a very clear line—a very recent, very clear line—and he was a mile past it.
"I could ask you the same thing," he snapped, pulling back. She was staring at him with blazing fury, but it was so much better than the haunting stare that he couldn't help relief. Her cheeks flamed with anger… and something very like embarrassment. He knew he probably looked the same. Neither of them wanted to admit to the moment when the kiss had been mutual.
"Being assaulted, I think," she spat. "That's one thing they call it when someone kisses you against your will."
He froze, horrified. "I wasn't taking advantage of you!"
"Weren't you? And where exactly do you draw the line, Carth?"
He stumbled for words under her venomous glare. If she was at all aware of the rain pouring down upon the two of them, she didn't show it, but based on her expression, he wouldn't have been surprised if it had started thundering. "Do you remember what just happened?"
She raised an eyebrow fractionally, ignoring the raindrops trickling like tears down her cheeks. "Uh, yeah. There was a reason I punched you."
Twice, he thought, but instead prompted, "Before that?"
Ashi blinked, momentarily sidetracked. "I… I don't know," she said, almost to herself. "I was in the Hawk, meditating—trying to reach Bastila," she added quickly, by way of an excuse. "I did, though; I heard her, but then…" Her voice trailed off. She bit her lip in confusion. "I don't remember anything else. Until…"
Immediately, she was reminded of why she had been angry. Carth saw a glare beginning to form on her face again, and spoke without thinking.
"Then you don't remember that you were going to jump?"
It came out harsher than he intended, and his words had the effect of sticking a pin in a balloon. Ashi deflated immediately: her eyes, narrowed and flashing a moment ago, widened in shock, and she went very pale.
"I was… what?" She turned slowly, and took a couple careful steps closer to the edge, mind racing morbid and unbidden. If she had fallen, would she have died unknowing, her last memory one of guilt? Or would she have woken up as she fell, or as she hit the water, icy waves shocking her back to herself the same way Carth's kiss had? That would be even worse: to be suddenly drowning, choking, sinking…
"Suicide?" she whispered, the roar of the waves rendering her speechless but for one word.
Carth was busy feeling immediately guilty—in retrospect, it would have been much kinder to break that news gently and somewhere else—but nodded, before realizing she couldn't see him. "I stopped you," he explained lamely.
"And after that?" Her voice was pure venom. "Decide you'd earned a little reward?"
"You… there was something wrong with you!" he protested. "You looked like you weren't all there, Ashi! I didn't mean… I wasn't thinking—"
Ashi spun to face him, and this time, she didn't look angry: she looked shocked, even disgusted. "You weren't thinking?" she echoed in disbelief. "You see me about to jump off a fracking building, you figure out that there's something wrong with me, and your first thought is to kiss me—and then your goddamn excuse is that you weren't thinking?"
He couldn't answer. It sounded so stupid when she said it like that, so… so cruel. "I can't believe you," she hissed, shoving past him; it wasn't a hard push, but he reeled back nonetheless, caught off guard. She stormed down the stairs, tossing her soaked hair over her shoulder as she stalking into the gleaming labyrinth of the city, and it was all Carth could do to follow her, shamefaced. He was silent all the way back.
About half the crew was already there when Ashi and Carth arrived, and more returned as Jolee began to question the two. Unfortunately, neither could—or wanted to—explain what had happened, especially why Carth had been nursing what had been rapidly becoming a fantastic black eye when he arrived. It turned out, however, that they didn't need to. As soon as Ashi mentioned that the last thing she remembered was talking to Bastila, Jolee's lips pressed into a sudden, harsh line, questions firmly locked behind them. To her annoyance, he told her what she needed most was rest, before leaving her in the medbay and gathering the crew separately to talk.
Carth was the first to speak, as soon as they were sure Ashi was out of earshot. "All right," he hissed to Jolee, "what the hell just happened?"
The old man sighed. "I think," he said tiredly, "that Bastila has learned to possess."
Whatever that meant, it obviously meant something to Juhani and Dustil. Both of their mouths dropped open, but Dustil was the first to find his voice.
"How?" he demanded. "That's hard to do anyway; how in space is she doing it if she's so far a… oh." He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening. "The bond?"
Jolee nodded, but Carth interrupted. "What's possession?"
"We learned it at the academy," Dustil said, glancing away—he always became incapable of meeting anyone's eyes when his past training was mentioned. "Some of my friends were, anyway; I wasn't advanced enough. It's a really dark power: it lets you take over someone's mind and body. Usually, you'd need to be close to them—like, physically, I mean—but with a bond, I guess that doesn't apply."
All the non-Force users were staring at him. "Bastila's controlling Ash?" gasped Mission, struggling with the very concept. But then again, she struggled with the thought of Ashi jumping off buildings into oceans, and that wasn't so impossible any more.
Carth nodded tersely. "That makes sense. When I saw her, she looked wrong—like she wasn't all there."
"Yeah," Dustil agreed, "yeah, that's how they look. Zombie-like." He paused, and then a slight frown flitted across his face. "How'd you snap her out of it, though? It usually takes a huge shock or something."
Carth went suddenly red, and cleared his throat awkwardly. There was a brief moment of silence, in which everyone jumped to immediate conclusions, and then Juhani spoke up, much to the soldier's relief.
"What I do not understand," she said slowly, "is how Bastila was able to influence Ashi in such a way. The bond gives her an advantage, but Ashi has great strength of will. Surely she could not be possessed with such ease."
Jolee raised his eyebrows, seeming surprised that no one else could work it out. "Is that really so hard?" he demanded, looking vaguely disappointed, but none of them seemed to have an answer. He glanced around once at all the urgent stares, and gave an irritable huff. "Really. Why did Malak want Bastila in the first place?"
"Oh," repeated Dustil suddenly, eyes widening. "Battle Meditation," he clarified for everyone else, giving them a moment to feel oblivious before he continued. "It's more precise on individuals. If she used that…" His voice trailed off, but it was obvious he was wondering if Ashi could really fight Bastila off now. Then, unexpectedly, his face lit up.
"But we could use this too, couldn't we?" he said, sudden animation in his eyes. "If Malak's using Bastila to take over Ashi, couldn't we use Ashi to spy on Bastila…?"
He stopped. Everyone was staring at him with varied levels of disgust. "Use her?" echoed Carth. "She's not a tool!"
Jolee gave the young boy a reproachful look. "We don't need to stoop to Malak's level just for information," he replied. "How wise is it to ask Ashi for something like that—to ask her to act like a Sith for us?"
Dustil flushed and began to inspect the floor with newfound interest. However, Juhani glanced up at Jolee, with a strange eagerness in her yellow eyes.
"Perhaps," she began carefully, "it is wrong to ask Ashi for such a thing. Doubtless it is a bad idea to ask her to fall back on her darker instincts. But one of us"—and here she gestured to herself and Jolee—"could access Bastila's mind through her, could we not? If one of us were to connect with her through the Force," she explained, turning to the rest of the crew, "we could use her mind as… as a bridge, if you will."
"No."
The word was low and harsh, but it carried such intensity that it might as well have been shouted. Carth gazed at the Cathar with unveiled disgust. "Have you forgotten what almost happened? What she almost did?" he demanded heatedly. "Ashi has enough to deal with without you messing around inside her head—"
Canderous cut him off with a snort. "Republic, if you want more of what you got on Tatooine, then go ask," he said calmly. Carth reddened, a sea of protests rising to his lips, but the Mandalorian cut him off to continue. "But don't underestimate her. She's stronger than you give her credit for."
"I know she's strong!" Carth exploded. "That doesn't give them the right to go in her mind!" He scowled viciously at all three of the Jedi and then Canderous, adding as an afterthought, "And I don't want anything to do with that, you—"
"Well," interrupted a voice.
All eyes swung to the doorway, where Ashi stood, arms crossed and one eyebrow fractionally raised. They were left to assume that it was at Carth's words. "That would be your loss, I think," she said tartly, and, if possible, the soldier turned an even brighter scarlet. Ignoring him, she turned to Jolee. "He's right," she said. "I don't want you using me. I want to spy on Bastila myself."
Surprisingly, it was Mission who spoke first. "Are you kidding?" she snapped, mouth dropping open disbelief. "You nearly died, Ash! You can't—"
"I nearly die most days," said Ashi matter-of-factly, brushing her off. So unused to being shoved aside by Ashi, even verbally, Mission fell silent. "I want to do it myself," Ashi repeated. "I don't want you in my mind."
It was so brief that almost no one saw it. For a moment, as she spoke, her eyes flashed with something more than determination: shame. She wasn't worried about her mind itself—it was that she didn't want them seeing what was in it.
Jolee looked at her for a long moment, eyes flat and unreadable. "Can you manage it?" he said finally, and Ashi understood what he meant.
"It's not possession," she replied. "All I'm doing is looking. There's nothing dark about that."
And in the end, there was nothing they could do to talk her out of it. Ashi went with Jolee to the medbay; maybe it wasn't particularly glamorous, but it seemed to be the quietest place on the ship. He had agreed to mediate for her: if, at any point, Bastila sensed Ashi, he would be able to intervene. Ashi wasn't quite sure how—mostly, she suspected that he felt the need to do something to help. In his place, she probably would have too.
She could feel his consciousness as she knelt on the ground, eyes closed. It hovered close to her mind, but not too close; a gentle mass that would have been a rich, earthy green, had it had a color. She couldn't sense his thoughts, just his aura: unsurprised, resigned, and a little worried anyway.
She edged away from her mind, reaching out with all the care she could manage for the bond. Her fingers, resting on her knees, were trembling. For a moment, she paused, and then she gave a little tug at the fabric of her mind.
It split, and Ashi felt the tiny change as Bastila's consciousness touched hers, mingling in an estuary of thought. Now came the hardest part. Slowly, with the utmost caution, she sent a tendril of thought into the other girl's mind. She could feel Jolee behind her, and she led the way. It wasn't guiding—she went quickly, apathetic as to whether he kept up or not. If he stayed, then he could figure out a way to help; if he fell behind, then he could leave, and she would manage on her own. She didn't want, intentionally, to push him away, but there was a small part of her that wished that her mind could just be hers, even from Jolee.
He could probably sense that part. That was just as well. It was good for them to remember that, regardless of whether or not she was helpful, she wasn't their tool.
Carth had defended her on that topic. She wondered idly if it had been guilt, but shrugged the thought quickly away. This took concentration… this took… focus…
"…Forgive me, master."
Ashi jumped; rather than the inside of her eyelids, she suddenly saw Malak, glaring at her in all his glory. Luckily, Jolee was not caught off guard so easily. She felt the brush of the shield he conjured quickly, hiding her presence from Bastila. Fine—if he was here, then it was good that he could help.
"You have failed me," he said slowly. "Failure is not something that will be tolerated, Bastila."
She knelt there before him, and he towered over her, painting himself godlike to anyone watching. Ashi, who had always had a soft spot for theatrics, appreciated it, but a stray, instantaneous thought about arrogance flitted through Bastila's head, a degree of irreverence that stunned Ashi. This was far from the Jedi brat she'd known.
However, inwardly bold as she might be, Bastila didn't contradict him. He was looking at her—she felt his yellow gaze burning holes in the crown of her head—and she did not dare look up at him, not while he held the power. "I understand, Master. I apologize. I underestimated her companions."
"I see." He turned away, gazing off unseeingly. "Which one saved her?"
"The soldier. Carth Onasi," Bastila explained, her voice inflectionless. "He cares deeply for Revan, master. I should have anticipated that he would try and protect her."
Furtively, her eyes darted upwards as she spoke; all three of them saw Malak's fists clench at the words, and all three drew their own conclusions. His knuckles whitened, forcing the dark veins to stand out all the more against his pale, sickly skin. "Indeed," he said slowly. "I hope you will not be so foolish in future."
Relief, rich and tangible, flooded through Bastila, but she kept her voice even. "Thank you, Master. What would you have me do with Revan?"
The Dark Lord turned his back to her, dark cape swishing behind him. His footsteps, clicking against the dark stone, were painfully loud in the silence of the temple. "I will not underestimate her again," he murmured, lacing his fingers together behind his back. "I do not think another attempt this extreme will succeed—no doubt she has figured out what we intended to do. Prepared, she will fight you off."
"Then what shall I do?"
From the sound of his voice, he turned back to face her, although now Bastila kept her eyes fixed firmly on the cold stone before her. "Do not attempt to possess her," he instructed. "Simply… influence her." She heard him pause, and when he spoke again it was surer, as if he'd realized he liked what he'd said. "There is darkness within her, whether she and her Jedi choose to acknowledge it or not. If you can drive her to confront it, then perhaps she will give in to it again."
Ashi was hardly breathing. Beside her—metaphysically speaking—she could feel Jolee's sudden dismay as well, hard as he tried to hide it. No one had faith in her, did they?
Tersely, Bastila nodded. "Very well, master. I understand."
The Dark Lord turned to face her again, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction. "Very good, Bastila…" he said, and then the entire scene blurred and faded as Ashi pulled away from Bastila's mind. Malak's words were still ringing in her head, a dry, almost serpentine whisper that refused to fade—there is darkness within her… she will give in again…
Ashi's eyes flew open, with the flood of dizziness that often accompanied sudden snaps to reality. Jolee was looking down at her, and she saw a tint of worry in his tired face. She sat back on her heels, eyes stinging as they fell to the floor.
Malak was right, of course: there was darkness in her. There always would be. She examined herself uncertainly, holding a hand out before her to see if her veins looked too pronounced. Distracted, she saw but didn't fully register the fact that her fingers were shaking like twigs in a hurricane.
Could she feel the dark side again, a stain buried under her skin? And what a stain—even the most powerful of the Jedi couldn't get it out. The darkness was as much a part of her as her skin or her blood, the latter of which was currently thudding like a drum in her ears, pulsing hard through her pale hands. She felt diseased.
You shouldn't exist. You should be dead.
This voice wasn't Bastila's. It was her own, but moreover, it was right. She'd seen herself die: she remembered it, and she had the souvenir of the explosion tattooed as proof across her back. She wasn't even sure if she'd been sorry, not even then—scared of death and what was coming, yes; angry, yes; but not sorry. She's never chosen a redemption, and she hadn't deserved to be saved.
It was at that moment when something shifted behind Ashi's dark, wide eyes, the starved logic of desperation. Jolee saw her shoulders tense from behind, and held his breath, wishing he could see her face. Maybe, came a whisper in the back of her mind, she could still do something about this. She hadn't deserved to be saved, and likely didn't now, but she could still change that. A redemption she'd earned could mean something—more, at least, than this half-baked one that fell apart in her hands.
There was something glimmering inside of her, something that Jolee, still half-caught in her mind, regarded warily. A little spark of light blue had suddenly sparked into being. Before, her consciousness had been thick with doubt, even anger; now the light was glowing from the middle, and it worried him even more. She'd had an idea, and he doubted, after this day, that it could be anything good.
If she could make things better, set them right, then maybe it could... balance what she'd done before. Ashi clung to the words as they came, terrified to lose them. She had to prove Malak wrong, was the point; her actions were hers to control, not Bastila's to toy with. Furious, righteous purpose was rushing through her, sowing a smile across her face, and it poured easily across any gaps in the reasoning. They were irrelevant. The point was that she had a chance, a real, fighting one... damn, she'd needed to know that.
As Jolee watched, the blue wavered and then grew a couple inches, flames catching on wood. Anxious, he pulled away, blinking and finding himself fully back inside his skin. "Lass?" he asked.
Ashi lips split in anticipation of a smile. "I'm fine," she replied, and she was—better. His doubt, methodically cultivated, was so clear she could almost taste it, but she didn't bother to comment. "I'm fine," she repeated, daring him to contradict her.
He didn't, and she stood, turning and brushing past him out the door. He watched her worriedly as she breezed around the corner. There was a grin across her lips, screaming of purpose, and it was far more frightening than even her silence had been.
Day one of not confronting her inner darkness: so far, Ashi decided, so good.
The Sith base, contrary to popular opinion, hadn't been so difficult to get into. Okay, so there was the red steam that both Ashi and Dustil had tried to walk through—to no avail, until it occurred to them to use Force speed—and the many, many, many Sith and droids, but it was a good day. They'd gotten Wann's probe, and she'd finally gotten to kill something on this damn planet. Now there was just one thing left to do.
All her senses had been on a constant high alert all day. It was almost like being on a stim, but it didn't wear off at all, and was far more of a mental than a physical state. She had kept her mind forcibly shielded and aware all day, and that meant that while she hadn't actually felt Bastila yet, she was the one to sense an unusual amount of auras clumped at the southern end of the base. She, Dustil, and Juhani had made a mutual decision to go see what it was. Carth had disagreed, but subsequently been outvoted, and now trailed along after them in a sulky sort of way.
They reached a new section of the base—lower, sloping down to the ocean—and Ashi waved open a door. It was strangely quiet for the amount of turmoil she could sense around them, and she felt slightly lost with no noise to illustrate a path. She closed her eyes, tapping into the Force. She could feel auras nearby, but 'nearby' wasn't nearly good enough. Frustrated, she forced her consciousness outward, searching through the air for direction, life, anything.
She opened her eyes… and then she saw.
It was as if a slide of color had been superimposed over the world—or a veil been lifted from her eyes. The physical world dimmed to gray, but she could suddenly see threads and clumps of color that wove through the air. Moreover, she could sense the auras through the walls: not what was there, but the tone it bore, its essence. It was beautiful, dazzling, overwhelming… there were no words to possibly do it justice. It was life itself in motion.
She was vaguely aware that she had something she had to do besides gape, but couldn't remember it until a voice behind her startled her. "Ashi?" said the radiance that was Dustil. "Which way?"
She took a deep breath, and forced herself to concentrate. Red was the prominent color here, especially in a clump off to her left, but—there—a flicker of green. It resembled a candle in a gale, wavering in the moment before it faded completely, and she knew the aura didn't have long to last.
"Come on!" she called, and hurried forward. Her feet slapped the floor as she ran down a corridor, skidding at the corner and flying towards a door. A wave of her hand sent it sliding open, in time for her to teeter to a stop, narrowly avoiding tripping over a body.
The sight that met their eyes was horrible. Corpses lay on the ground, burned and mangled to a sickening degree. Limbs lay at strange angles, and drying blood pooled around a couple bodies. All of them were the Selkath equivalent of teenagers.
Going pale, Ashi swallowed hard, her hand tightening on the doorframe. A moment later, Dustil appeared behind her, and he was not so quiet.
"Frack," he murmured, eyes wide with horror. "That's… that's…"
But it defied adjectives. There was only one word coming to mind, and it echoed over and over, etching itself into his head: Selene, Selene, Selene. It was all he could do to stop it at the word, and not to dwell on whether something like this had happened on Korriban as well…
He glanced up at Ashi without thinking; he was so used to her supplying the confidence for the group. She was staring around the room, her gaze unfocused but somehow purposeful.
Carth and Juhani turned the corner. Juhani gave a little gasp, and Carth choked, "Space…."
"Shut up," Ashi said, without looking at him. The words held no inflection whatsoever, no anger, but Carth's mouth dropped open anyway in indignation.
"What do you mean, shut up? This is—"
She stepped into the room and bent down by a Selkath who lay on her stomach. "Shut up," she warned again, with the slightest edge, and he fell silent. She turned the body onto its back, her eyes roving over the corpse. She was still seeing with the Force, and she was sure she'd caught a spark of green—she couldn't be mistaken, she couldn't be…
There! A little flicker of light, breaking the gray fog of the room for a moment. She pressed a hand to the Selkath's heart, and bit her lip—she should be focusing and only that, but a sliver of her was hoping desperately as well. Live, she thought frantically. Please, live…
Light sparked at her fingertips, and she saw it work its way into the body, dabbing away patches of red like water washing off paint. The green wavered in the center of the girl's chest, and then, suddenly, violently, the body spasmed. The Selkath girl's webbed hand flew through the air, clenching on Ashi's arm with an iron grip. The shock was enough to snap Ashi back to her normal vision, taking the color and clarity with it, and for a second she even had time to miss it before the girl spoke.
/Tell… Shasa…/ she croaked. A wracking cough exploded from somewhere deep within her chest, and blood, dark and oily, tricked from the corner of her mouth. "Tell her… the Sith…/
Ashi shook her head, pushing the girl back down to the ground. "Stay still," she hissed, the words fiercer than she intended. "I can heal you if—"
/No/ whispered the girl, her eyes huge and childlike. /It's… too late… please… the datapad… we figured it out… but they… caught us… tell Shasa…/
Her other hand—burned so badly that the skin was scorched and black—rose, and Ashi realized she was clutching a charred datapad. She looked at it in confusion for a moment, eyebrows drawing together in uncertainty, but as she raised her head to ask what it was, the girl's eyes became glassy. In a final, shuddering gasp, the last breath of air left her body.
Ashi stared at her for a long moment, unable to look away more than anything else. Romantics could say corpses looked peaceful, like sleepers, but there was so many wounds on the girl that it hardly applied. Her eyes were fearful and haunted, and even in death, Ashi felt like the corpse was staring at her. With tentative care, she reached over and closed the girl's eyes. She could feel the stares of all her friends on her, and ignored them.
Hesitantly, she pried the fingers back, taking the datapad from the girl's hand. It didn't take long to realize what it was, and she snorted, pocketing it. Sith really needed to find better places to keep their grand plans.
And then Ashi stood and left the room, brushing past the other three, and turned down the hallway. There were a few rooms, but she knew where she'd seen the most red, and anyway, she could hear gurgled voices coming from the far one as she drew closer. There was no point in subtlety, really, so she waved the door calmly open as she approached.
A group of Selkath started simultaneously and then stared at her, a couple of the more quick-thinking ones reaching for weapons. Ashi glanced around at them levelly, her own hand resting centimeters from her lightsaber. It was a promise, not a threat. "Which one of you is Shasa?" she asked, before they could manage a word.
Still, the staring. It was slightly disappointing. /How the hell did you get in here?/ demanded a teen, finally.
"From your hangar. But I'll be leaving through the front doors," Ashi replied calmly. "Are any of you Shasa?"
A girl stepped forward, eyes narrowed and challenging. Ashi gave her the instant once-over. She was tall, but that stemmed more from posture than true height. Both her slight air of contempt and the lightsaber on her hand were proof that she was more accomplished than most of her peers. /That's me/ the girl said coldly, after making a show of scrutinizing Ashi as well. /Who wants to know?/
"Your father."
This caused an instant clamor. /I knew it!/ moaned a boy. /I knew your dad would screw this up, Shasa!/
/Shut up!/ she snapped, and he fell silent. /My father's a fool./ She lifted her chin, giving Ashi a scornful look. The lightsaber blade, blood red, hissed from its sheath; Ashi found the gesture slightly melodramatic, but Shasa's peers seemed impressed. /If you think you're taking me back—taking any of us back—/ added the girl as an afterthought, /then you'd better think again, stranger. We are Sith. No one commands us!/
"Except the Force," threw in Dustil. Ashi blinked, realizing this group must strike a nerve for him. Shasa's eyes narrowed.
/That's it!/ she snarled. /Our masters will reward us greatly for the deaths of these fools./
For a neutral world, the teens were bloodthirsty. Any of them not already armed grabbed for weapons immediately, and many smiled as they approached the group. The first to lunge, naturally, was Shasa, but to Ashi's surprise, it was not at her. She leapt at Dustil, who only just had his blade out in time to stop her. The Selkath held back for a moment; eager for a fight though they might be, clever comebacks beforehand interested them just as much.
/We control the Force/ she roared. /You are weak, Jedi!/
"Control?" he muttered. "Is that what they're calling it now?"
Shasa shrieked and flung him into the wall. Ashi heard the nasty, muffled clang of impact, but couldn't stop to look. The students had taken their leader's cue, and were pouring down on them in a tidal wave of fishiness. To Ashi, waves of Sith fish ranked right up there with waves of Sand People on a list of things she didn't enjoy running into. Unfortunately, she didn't really have an option with this one besides
She met the first wave with a shield, and they bounced off it like it was rubber. Quickly, she forced it outward, flinging the majority of them into the wall. There were at least twice as many of them, and she knew this time they'd be able to block her. The only advantage she had was the first strike—and then again, probably skill.
Two of them were on her as soon as she reached them, and leapt into the fight, dodging and swinging. She kicked one student in the jaw, and he went reeling. The next had his blaster knocked out of his hand, and cowered. She was brushing past him as she heard Dustil cry out.
Dustil, several meters away, was pinned against the wall. Shasa loomed over him: even regular-height Selkath were taller than humans as a rule, and compared to Dustil, the girl looked far too dangerous. Ashi knew, without the shadow of a doubt, he was a good fighter, but that was just it—though he would make a brilliant Guardian, but he couldn't fight Force attacks yet.
Shasa could tell. He struggled to stand, a trickle of blood tracing his set jaw, and she grinned. Dustil cried out suddenly, and Ashi hesitated for an instant—Shasa hadn't touched him—but then she saw the faraway look in his eyes, terror and despair mingling together into paralysis, and knew that the girl hadn't needed to.
Fury came instantly, hot and delicious as it burned through her veins. Who needed stims when you had kids in trouble?
It was his son's unmistakable cry that jerked Carth away from the Selkath he was fighting as helplessly as a marionette. His eyes flicked around, half rational and half panicked, and lit on Dustil: backed against the wall, being approached by the lead Selkath.
Instantaneously, he took aim, but to his surprise, Ashi was already there, sending Shasa flying down the hallway. Dustil sagged in relief, and Carth stared. Ashi had saved his son's life. It felt very unfair, because it was much harder to hate someone who did that.
As the thought was racing irritably through his head, Ashi was furiously dueling Shasa. The girl must have been Force-reliant, for while she had looked threatening, towering over Dustil, she wasn't very strong, and her arms shook with the effort of fending off the attacks. Ashi, meanwhile, was in a new mindset. The fight had taken on a new level of delicious clarity. She would kill Shasa, she would kill all the Selkath, if they dared threaten her friends…
Quite suddenly, she froze with revelation. She was, frankly, shocked. For the first time, Ashi knew the feel of a Sith using subtlety—and if they fought all their battles this way, they could rule the galaxy. For a split second—the girl darted away to safety after that, but it was enough—she felt Bastila's voice in her head, urging her on. It was so easy to kill, so appallingly tempting, but if Bastila wanted Ashi to do this, then she sure as hell wouldn't.
"Stop!" she shouted, above the noise of the fray. "Stop fighting!"
Her friends only half-obeyed: though they lowered their weapons momentarily, the Selkath paid no notice, and they were forced to keep fighting within instants. There was only one thing to do. Ashi pushed Shasa back, and then flicked off her lightsaber.
Predictably, the girl lunged for her. Ashi jerked a hand forward, weaving the Force in front of her like a net, and it caught the Selkath, snaring her with her lightsaber an inch from Ashi's chest.
"I don't want to fight you."
Shasa twisted, squirming, but she was hopelessly caught. /Let me go, you coward!/ she shouted, struggling to save face. /Why should I believe you?/
Ashi let down the shield, and Shasa stumbled back in surprise. "Because," she replied, "people who want to kill people don't let the other people have an open shot at killing them." She paused, and then amended, "Unless they're stupid."
Most of the Selkath had left off fighting, too interested in what was suddenly happening. One, who hadn't caught on yet, sprang at Carth, but he swatted at it reflexively with a blaster, and the teen crumpled to the ground. No one paid him any notice.
/What do you want?/ demanded Shasa. She tried to lunge again, but Ashi threw up another shield, pushing her back.
"I'm trying to save you," she replied. "You're making it hard."
/We don't need saving/ Shasa sneered. /The Sith are training us. We're going to be stronger than any of you pathetic Republic soldiers soon!/
"Training you. Uh-huh. They didn't, by any chance, mention overthrowing the Republic and then respectfully leaving the planet?"
/No, they… oh./ Shasa started angrily, but it slipped quickly from her face, swapped in an instant for confusion. /How do you know that?/
Ashi didn't reply, simply reaching for the datapad and offering it to the Selkath. Shasa took it hesitantly and glanced at it. It was obvious she intended to do only that, but something must have caught her eye, for she continued to stare, eyes darting back and forth across the page. As she read, disbelief spread across her face.
/Where the frack did you get this?/ she whispered, but she couldn't muster the anger that should have gone with the words.
"Off one of your friends. She died getting it. Asked me to give it to you," Ashi said quietly. "Does it make any difference?"
/Hell, yes/ Shasa murmured. /Force... we've been so stupid. They've been using us this whole time./ She turned to her friends, and her eyes were burning with anger. Ashi was sharply reminded of her own major revelation. It was bad to learn you were being used—and even worse, the more you'd cared about your cause.
/We have to leave/ she said firmly. /We have to tell the authorities what's going on./ All her friends, most looking utterly shell-shocked, nodded slowly. Shasa gave them all a once-over, nodded in approval, and then turned to Ashi. To her surprise, the Selkath girl looked puzzled more than anything else.
/Why'd you help us?/ she asked. /We tried to kill you—sorry about that, by the way—/ she interjected to Dustil, who nodded agreeably, /and you helped us anyway?/
Ashi hesitated—because, after all, she wasn't exactly going to give the full reason; but at the same time, she didn't want to lie outright—and finally decided on the simplest answer.
"You deserve the truth," she said calmly. "Everyone does."
Shasa didn't seem perturbed by the ambiguous answer. Surprisingly, she nodded, as if that was the most sensible thing Ashi could have said.
/Oh/ she replied. /Thanks./
And Ashi truly meant it when she replied, "You're welcome."
"But they arrested you?"
"Briefly," Ashi clarified, to Mission's shocked expression. The only thing more fun than getting in trouble was bragging about it later.
"Shasa vouched for us," Dustil added. The three of them sat in the Ebon Hawk, going over the past day for Mission's benefit. "She's actually pretty cool, for someone who tried to kill me."
"She tried to kill you?"
"That's what Sith do, Mission," threw in Ashi.
Dustil half grinned, but then paused, looking as if something vaguely entertaining had just occurred to him. "Wait," he said, half-raising an eyebrow. "You're planning to go represent Sunry, in front of the same judges, in two days?"
"Neutrality is a wonderful thing," Ashi replied cheerfully. "I've been proven innocent, right?"
Jolee, entering the room, announced his presence with a pointed cough, and she sighed. "Fine, Jolee; I've been proven less evil than the Sith. Same difference."
He nodded approvingly, taking a seat near them. "What's this about Sunry?"
"The trial's in two days," Ashi replied. "I'm the arbitrator, remember?" All this was said lightly, but there was worry dancing below the surface of her words like a riptide. Jolee was trying to figure out if he'd imagined it or not, when she followed up with, "So, any ideas on what I should do?"
He shuffled over to a seat and slumped into it wearily, in one of the rare moments where he seemed his age. "I can't tell you," he stated.
"Why not?"
She had to ask. But of course she did, Jolee reminded himself, and maybe, just slightly, he'd wanted her to. "Because if you ask again," he replied slowly, "I'm going to ask you to save him."
"Oh." Ashi nodded, her lips twisting ruefully. "Because he was your friend?"
Jolee gave a snort. "I don't know that he still is, but… I feel indebted to him," he admitted, without fully meaning to. "He's helped me out so many times—I feel that if I can, I should return the favor."
A silence followed his words, rather too profound and long for Jolee's taste. He broke it by clearing his throat loudly, following up quickly with a gruff question. "So, what are you thinking of doing?"
Ashi shrugged, her gaze rising to the florescent lights as if searching for an answer there. "No idea," she said finally. She was slumped suddenly, tired; doubt seemed to weigh visibly on her, a weight tugging on her shoulders. It wasn't fair, Jolee realized belatedly, to give her even more to worry about right now.
He scrutinized her, blinking and then squinting at her aura. That was something he was good at; possibly it was a Consular thing, and most likely it was simply natural talent. However, useful or not, it was a skill he'd rather not have possessed as he focused on Ashi. Even her aura was tired and dim, draped across her frame. Before, even when she had been tired, it had always been bright with some kind of emotion, its own little fire. Now it looked, for lack of a better description, like it had burned itself out. To be fair, a little spark of the blue was still flickering somewhere near her heart, but as he suspected what it was it gave him no comfort. Justifications weren't enough to do anything more than subsist on.
It was when she wasn't doing anything that she was bad, though. At least when she was in the city, a destination in mind, she didn't look this feeble. That was her finding kindling, little twigs to snatch up and devour so that she would burn a little brighter for a moment. It wasn't any sort of solution, but he still wished she could find something to do, just so she wouldn't look so damn pitiful.
"Maybe you should go talk to him."
Dustil's suggestion had been offhand, but Ashi straightened eagerly. "Yeah," she agreed immediately, "yeah. I think I should." Jolee caught the flare in her aura as it rippled through her, a little firework of yellow that jolted her to her feet. Reenergized at the prospect of a purpose, she turned quickly for the door, but still had time to call, "Come on, Jolee," over her shoulder. The old man groaned, but managed to shoot Dustil a grateful look before he followed Ashi out of the room.
"You're Sunry?"
The weary-looking man in the cell glanced up. His eyes, previously half-closed with the stupor of boredom, flew open when they landed on Ashi and her companion. "Jolee!" he crowed, something akin to electricity giving his face a new energy. "You… what are you doing here?"
Jolee didn't reply as his gaze moved slowly over Sunry. His eyes were flat, and might as well have been glass, for all the emotion they betrayed. Finally he gave a snort of disgust. "We're the arbitrators for the case," he said coldly.
Sunry looked stunned by the rebuff, and hesitated. "That's good, isn't it? You can get me out of this mess. It's all a frame-up, you know," he added, the declaration flowing from his tongue with an ease that could have come only from hours of justification. "The Sith—"
"We know you did it," Ashi interrupted.
He stopped mid-sentence, eyes bulging almost comically. Though his mouth dropped open, no words emerged for several moments. "I… what?" he finally managed. "No, I—"
"Shot Elassa. On tape." Reaching into her pocket, Ashi pulled out a disc from her pocket and held it between her fingers, waving it for emphasis in front of the bars. "I have it right here. That was stupid, by the way."
Sunry stared at her for a moment, and then his eyes darkened with anger. "So," he said, venom leeching from the words, "you think you can have me killed, just like that? Because you're so high and mighty now, eh, Jolee? Look," he added, with an injustice as sharp as broken glass, "I found out she was using me for information, and… and I snapped, all right? She didn't know I knew, so when she fell asleep, I killed her. It's not a crime!" he added angrily, for Jolee was staring at him rather like one might usually stare at a slug. "How many Sith have you killed? Jolee!" he snapped—now, the old man was pointedly looking anywhere but at him. "You've made mistakes! Are you going to condemn me because of mine? Or have you forgotten Namaya by now?"
That was a low blow, and Ashi saw Jolee flinch. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the words Sunry flung at him caused him physical pain. When, he opened them, however, they were blazing. "It's different, Sunry, and you know it," he hissed. "I don't kill Sith in cold blood while they sleep!"
"There's no difference. Spare me the justifications, Jolee. What are you going to do for the trial?"
Instantly, Jolee's eyes glossed over, cold and reserved. "It's not my decision," he said quietly. "Talk to her, Sunry."
Reluctantly, Sunry looked over to Ashi. She had on rather the same expression as Jolee. "Well?" he prompted anxiously. "You're not going to kill me, are you? I was used," he protested—amazing, how quickly the acrimony in his voice changed to desperation—"and it was a mistake! You won't kill me for that?"
When she met his gaze, he almost wished he hadn't spoken. Her eyes flashed like lamps, meeting his with a cold, calculated disgust. He felt a shiver run down his spine when she spoke, her voice as icy as her eyes.
"The only people who deserve second chances," she said softly, "are people who'll do something with them."
"And I will!" he insisted. "All I need is you to give me that!"
Unexpectedly, her eyes softened, the ice in them thawing. No… it wasn't that it thawed: it cracked slightly, exposing the vulnerability underneath for a second. He was waiting for her to say something, but she turned instead to Jolee, murmuring something too soft for Sunry to catch. The old Jedi looked at her uncertainly, and then nodded.
"If you must," he said gruffly, and then turned away. Hurt was visible in the girl's face, but she swallowed it determinedly and followed after, leaving Sunry alone with a cellful of doubt.
The doubt held, a gloomy and perpetual cloud around him, until two days later, at approximately the moment when the head judge addressed Ashi for the first time. She had all the court's attention from the moment she first spoke.
"I will find Sunry innocent," she had replied. Her words burned with determination, but still, Sunry himself almost didn't believe it for a couple moments. Then he looked around to find everyone but her friends seeming equally stunned, including a couple of the judges. Luckily, they recovered quickly; Selkath were nothing if not impossibly unshakable.
"Very well," said one finally. "Acting as prosecutor on behalf of Ahto City is an impartial observer from the Sith Empire." With some difficulty, Ashi concealed a snort at 'impartial'. The judge took a deep breath, and then leapt into a speech that was either very well rehearsed, made up on the spot, or a new epidemic of word vomit. Even the Jedi in the room, fluent in their dozens of languages, were having trouble following it.
Despite himself, Jolee looked nervous. "She better have a good case," he murmured.
"Why?" Carth asked quietly, glancing over. He had opted to come; apparently, he felt obliged to represent the Republic with his presence. "Won't he be innocent unless they prove he's guilty?"
Jolee glanced over skeptically. "He's guilty until proven innocent, actually," he deadpanned. "That's the way this works."
"If you had been paying attention, you would know that," Ashi interjected out of the corner of her mouth, from where she sat in front of them.
"But it's stupid!"
"Oh, yeah, Carth, insulting their legal system's definitely going to swing it in our favor."
Carth opened and then closed his mouth, caught off guard by her scathing reply. Ever since the possession, Ashi had been frosty at best to him. Reluctantly, he admitted she might have had good reason, but it was still harsh.
He chose to ignore the hypocrisy in that thought.
The Sith was the first to speak, and he did so with conviction, as well as with a drawled accent that grated on her ears within seconds. Ashi was almost wondering why in space she was doing this when the judge announced, "It is now the defense's turn to cross-examine the witness."
She got quickly to her feet, her face masklike. Whatever she was thinking, none of it showed. The witness was Firith, and he broke into a visible smile as he saw Ashi. It seemed he found her the least intimidating. A bad miscalculation, but still.
He was happy to describe his encounter with Elassa, in all her dark Jedi glory. The Sith was full of objections by this point, but luckily, everyone—including the judges—was growing as sick of him as Ashi, and his protests came to nothing.
The second witness was Gluupor. His confession was helpful, if difficult to understand for all the stuttering. He was visibly pale and trembling as he slumped away from the witness stand, shuffling back down the hall as if the gallows awaited him at the end.
/Gluupor's going to die/ he mumbled as he passed Ashi.
"No you're not, Gluupor," she answered evenly. She was in a good enough mood; the trial was going well. Jolee had, in the end, accepted her decision: though he couldn't empathize, he understood her reasoning. She suspected he had agreed more for her own sake than for that of Sunry.
And speaking of Sunry… Ashi sat up straighter, almost nervous. It was his turn to speak.
"That was great!"
Sunry was exuberant as they left the courtroom, positively skipping alongside them. Carth, Jolee, and Ashi, the latter two stony-faced, were walking with him to the Republic base. "You were fantastic, by the way," he added cheerfully to Ashi. "And Jolee! It really is just like old times, you swooping in to save me just in time. Thank space you came along, or I might not have gotten away with—"
Ashi, it seemed, had a sooner breaking point than Jolee, and it had been reached. With no warning at all, she spun to face him, and when he didn't stop talking, she cut in over him, the coldness in her voice second only to that in her face.
"Listen," she hissed, taking a couple steps towards him until she was hardly a foot away. "I didn't save you because I like you, okay? Get it fracking straight. I didn't do it for your sake, and I sure as hell don't think you did the right thing."
Sunry gaped, his mouth hanging open. He would be in danger of swallowing a bug or two in a moment. "What…?"
"You," she continued fiercely, cutting him off, "are a murdering bastard. And I am handing you over to the Republic, and they owe me, so they're going make sure you never do anything like that ever again. I'm talking everything but the leash."
"You're making me their prisoner?" he demanded furiously. "What the hell gives you the right to—"
Ashi raised her eyebrows. "Besides that I just saved your life? Oh yeah, that," she added sarcastically, as realization dawned visibly on him. "I saved your fracking skin, didn't I? Don't mess it up this time."
"But why did you save me, then?" he challenged angrily, throwing his hands up. In the shelter of a building, they were just hidden from cameras, but the shouting was still bound to attract trouble. Jolee was about to try and intervene, when, to his surprise, he found there was no need.
As if the words Sunry had said were magic, Ashi went quiet immediately. Her determined face turned pensive, almost uncertain. "Because," she said slowly, "everyone deserves a second chance."
Sunry lowered his hands, his thick white eyebrows furrowing together like caterpillars. "You talk about chances a lot," he observed. "This isn't just about me, is it?"
With a flood of surprise, Ashi realized why Jolee, the pensive old grouch, and this cheating ex-hero could be friends. When they got together before, you must have hardly been able to breathe for all the insights in the air. She met his scrutinizing gaze, tilting her head to the side in surprise. "You're right," she said finally. "I'm being selfish. I've done a lot more than you, but I want another chance too."
She waited for him to be surprised or offended, but it never happened. Instead, his eyebrows smoothed out in understanding. "You're not surprised?" she wondered aloud.
He snorted. "Why? You're doing it for yourself. Makes sense to me."
"You aren't offended." A statement this time, not a question.
"It's human," he shrugged, "to watch out for yourself." He stopped, and she felt his eyes searching her face, scrutinizing it carefully. "You're rather young to have done as much as you say," he commented.
Despite herself, she felt a wry smile curl her lips. "You can stop trying to figure out who I am. You've never seen my face."
Carth flinched inwardly at the comment, reminded with a jolt who it was who was standing in front of him. It was becoming so easy to forget why he was angry with her, or even if he was angry at all. For a moment Sunry visibly tried to decipher the answer, but then gave up.
"So you're having the Republic imprison me?"
"I'm having them watch you," she corrected. "You could be grateful."
"Better than dying, I suppose," he agreed lightly.
"Most things are better than that," Ashi replied. She was acutely aware of Carth watching her. He was staring, and it was slightly unnerving; more often than not since the Leviathan he'd been trying not to look at her at all.
Sunry nodded slowly. There was a pause, and then they turned the corner, and found themselves facing the bright orange banners of he Republic office. Ashi and Sunry both walked in without a pause. It was then, only when she was gone from sight, that Carth rounded on Jolee.
"What does she mean?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," replied the old man briskly, turning away.
"You understand her!" Carth exclaimed. "You must know—"
Jolee's face was suddenly, unexpectedly vicious as he spun back to face the soldier, his gaze stabbing Carth like dual knives. "I don't understand her," he said coldly, and the soldier would have sworn the surrounding temperature fell a few degrees. "No one can possibly understand what she's going through right now."
He took a couple steps back, staggered by the intensity of the old man's tone. "All right," he conceded after a pause, "but what does she mean? Being selfish?"
Jolee's face hardened, and he sighed through gritted teeth. It took Carth a moment to realize he wasn't the cause of aggravation any more. "I don't think she's right," he said finally. "She's looking for ways to save herself. She thinks she can... earn a second chance, I think."
"Earn one?" Carth echoed blankly. "She's…"
He nodded. "She's trying to be a saint, alongside everything else. Considering how she's just found out her entire life is a lie," he added wryly, "I suppose it could be a lot worse."
Carth shook his head. "You don't… no, I mean… and she thinks that's selfish?"
Jolee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. All at once, he looked very tired. "She thinks it's selfish to want another chance after what she's done," he explained carefully. "That's why she helped Sunry. She thinks that if she saves enough people, she can save herself."
He shook his head in frustration, running a hand through what little hair he had. Carth was getting the feeling he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had become the unwitting audience for a rant from the old man. "She's only trapping herself," Jolee added, shaking his head. "It won't work. She'll never have achieved enough in her own eyes to make up for what she's done."
"That's…" Carth scrambled for words, reaching desperately for a reply to what he'd just heard. "That's insane," he finally decided. "She doesn't need to be saved... I mean, why can't she just—"
"Forgive herself?" Jolee chuckled humorlessly, a wormwood smile creeping over his face. "There'll always be people who hate her. She won't forgive herself while they don't forgive her." There was wry amusement in his voice, infuriated and yet somehow ironic.
Carth shook his head. "She doesn't need their approval."
Jolee's eyes, still fixed on him, narrowed sharply, and Carth shrunk under his gaze. It was a terrifying, penetrating look that, applied correctly, could have made the old man an excellent Jedi. For a moment his brow furrowed, almost as if he were searching for something in the face, but then he looked away. "That's interesting," he mused darkly, as he turned away, and Carth almost didn't hear him add, "She's doing a very good job of pretending she doesn't need yours."
Almost. Carth's breath lodged in his throat, and for a moment he was frozen, but then he grabbed the old man's shoulder, stopping him. Jolee turned back calmly to face him, and was half-surprised at the anger on the other man's face.
"What do you mean, she needs my approval?" he demanded, and Jolee sighed.
"She needs your forgiveness," he said slowly, as if explaining something to a stubborn child. "She's hurt you the most. If you can't forgive her, she can't forgive herself either."
No.
For a moment, his mind stopped completely, denial gumming his thoughts. He was the wrench in the works, the reason Ashi, most times, looking visibly patched together. It almost felt—no, screw almost. It did feel unfair. Why couldn't he hate her—why did it have to come with consequences like this?
But the facts, laid out so simply by Jolee, still stood. She didn't forgive herself, because he wouldn't forgive her.
But she was Revan—wasn't she?
Wasn't she? What kind of fracked-up question was that? Of course she was!
But… Revan, Revan?
Well… it wasn't… he needed someone to blame!
But it doesn't have to be her…
He was still frozen, staring at Jolee, when Ashi came walking out of the base, looking distinctly pleased with herself. The expression faded, smile rolling off her lips like melting wax, when she saw Jolee and Carth, staring at each other so fiercely that the air practically crackled with electricity. Both spun to look at her—so fast they might have gotten whiplash, Carth looking like he'd seen a ghost—and then averted their eyes immediately. Carth was first to turn and stride away, Jolee following suit a moment later.
"What'd I miss?" she asked finally, hurrying to catch up, but neither man would answer.
R&r for a quote and a little foreshadowing, as always. Unfortunately, I promised myself in advance that I won't beg (stupid dignity...) but a little reminder that you're all still reading is never amiss ;)