There Is No Emotion
Khara awoke lying on the Ebon Hawk's medical bed. Her hands went to her temples as she remembered the pain that had ripped through her—the stasis field, the severing, the Force wave, the lightning storm, Kreia. Kreia had saved her and then left her for dead.
"Where is Kreia?" she asked. Atton suddenly appeared, his face cut and bruised. What had happened?
"She's gone," he replied quietly. "The Handmaidens came for her. They know who she is now."
Khara shut her eyes tightly. How? No. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the next step. She opened her eyes again.
"They'll take her to Telos," Atton explained to the others as Khara sat up and oriented herself. "And Atris will do what she'll do to anyone she thinks is a Sith."
"They'll execute her," Mira guessed.
"But, Khara and Kreia are linked. If she dies…" Mical trailed off as realization hit him. "Oh."
"Yeah," Atton muttered grimly. "We're going to Telos. We have no choice."
As the faces of her companions crowded around her, she felt her heart squeeze tightly, her blood pressure begin to rise. All of them were wounded in some way. Had they fought the Handmaidens that came for Kreia? Or had they fought Kreia for what she did in the Council chamber? The Council's words pushed through the chaos of her other thoughts to the forefront of her mind, the idea that her friends were puppets and she their master. That they remained at her side because she wanted them to, that they fought for her because she willed it. How much sense it made to her now.
Because how could a Jedi-killer love a Jedi?
"No," Khara said and slid off the bed. "I'm going to Telos."
"What?" Atton's voice followed her as she left the medbay.
"What do you mean?" Mical asked.
"Get off the ship," she said. There was a long stretch of silence. "Get off the ship!" she snapped. "Now!"
"Why?" Mical pressed softly. "What's going on?"
"Just leave," she replied.
"Hey!" Mira snapped. "I'm not taking orders without knowing what for." For a moment, Khara sensed a gentle nudge through the Force. "Talk to us."
Bao-Dur appeared from the cargo hold, pushing his goggles up to the top of his head. He looked confused. "General?" he prompted.
Khara looked away, looked first at the black leatheris couch with a hole in it from Mira's stray blaster bolt, then at the other couch to avoid conjuring up painful memories.
"Before they were assassinated, the Council told me I establish Force bonds with those around me as easily as I breathe. And those Force bonds allow me to influence others… even beyond their own will."
"What?" Mira gasped, and Khara waited for the retreat. Surely they would run at knowing the truth. "That's crazy. I don't believe it."
Khara flinched in momentary surprise before remembering her own desire to deny the truth. Was she influencing them even now?
"It's true," Khara told her. "The Council confirmed it. They knew I could change them as well if I did not go."
"That's why they exiled you?" Atton spat bitterly.
"That is the danger of being a Jedi," Mical said. "When one separates themselves from others, chooses to lead a life of isolation, denying what makes them a feeling being—it is easy to make such judgments. And such judgments, I believe, are made in ignorance."
"You are ignorant," she said angrily. "You have to go. You have to get away from me."
"I'm not going anywhere," Mical protested firmly. "I simply can't believe you have made me do anything at all."
"No?" she whispered. "I suppose it wouldn't feel that way at all. But if you think about it rationally…" She looked at Visas standing at the threshold to the port-side dormitory. "A Sith is beaten in combat and immediately shifts her allegiances to that of her enemy? Or a technician," her gaze shifted to Bao-Dur, "who is tormented by his destructive actions in the war faces the General whose orders he followed and, instead of hating her—of blaming her—follows her to destructive ends once more? Or Mandalore, consumed with uniting the Mandalorian clans and restoring their might, leaves his comrades to fight Sith with an ex-Jedi he barely knows?" She turned around to look at the others. "A Republic historian and diplomat now training to be a Jedi, racing into combat? A bounty hunter joins her target's team on a creditless crusade to destroy an enemy no one believes exists?" Her eyes fell lastly on Atton but she couldn't speak the words. They stuck in her throat, formed a lump she couldn't breathe around. And he looked back at her with as much pain as she felt. "Why are you here? Because I looked at you and saw strong warriors, resourceful allies. Because I needed help." Because I was afraid to be alone. "Without meaning to, I turned you away from your paths and put you on mine. It's wrong. I killed thousands in the Mandalorian Wars this way. I won't make you die for me, too." Khara turned from them and started to walk away. "Now… Get. Off. This. Ship."
"No," Atton said, his voice stopping her at the hallway toward the cockpit. "I'm not leaving."
"Me either," Mical said. "I walked the path to be a Jedi long before that of the diplomat. I'm not here because you've pulled a dusty historian away from his relics. What strength could you have seen in me then? It was I who volunteered, if I recall correctly. I'm here because I believe in you, I believe this threat is real, and I want to help."
"I see in you the light of Katarr," Visas murmured in her soft voice, "the hope in the darkness. I see resistance, I see change, I see truth and understanding. I did not choose to serve you because you had beaten me. I chose to serve you because you saved me, because you lit the darkness and allowed me to see. You did not bind me to your will, Khara. You set me free."
"The way I see it," Mira began gruffly, "is I'm here because I want to be. And if you have a problem with that, you shouldn't have brought me on in the first place. If you want me to leave, you're going to have to use that Force influence you have and make me."
Bao-Dur's presence pushed further into the room. "General," be began quietly. "I never blamed you because you, of all of us, were capable of making the choices that had to be made regardless of how much you didn't want to. War is ugly. It brings out the worst in us all. I saw how the choice affected you… but you remained strong, silent… allowed yourself to be blamed for something we all did. You did what you had to do because it had to be done. Just like now. But this time, we can make a better choice. We can stop Malachor from happening again. That place echoes in you like it echoes in me. You won't let it happen a second time. I know it. I believe. I trust you, then and now. That's why I follow you, General. You're the only way I can redeem myself."
"Looks like we're with you, Jedi," Mandalore said, "whether you like it or not."
"Statement: How touching, Master," HK-47 declared. "Observation: It appears the meatbags are finished with their emotive speeches. Since it is impossible for a droid to be affected by Jedi mind control, I suggest we proceed with our mission and the termination of hostiles."
T3 rolled up beside her, beeping and whooping. Khara gently brushed the droid's head with the tips of her fingers. No matter how much she said it, she couldn't make them leave. Because deep down inside, she didn't want them to go. She loved them. She was afraid of losing them. And that fear—that destructive fear—was probably the part of her will that she exerted, that motivated them to stay when they should have fled at the mere thought of being controlled.
"You change others, yes," Mical said when the silence became too thick, "but I do not believe it is due to the Force. It is because you are a leader, because you feel connected to the people around you. We trust you because of that connection, because you understand us." He took one step toward her. "There is no danger in what you represent," Mical promised, "other than your humanity. And if they could not see this, it is because they did not understand you."
She had no other words, no way to convince them. She wanted to believe them. More than anything, she wanted to believe in their words. But for all the pain she had caused the galaxy, she could not allow herself any concessions. When this was done, she would give up all that Khara Saar was and ever would be. She would leave everything and everyone behind and take up the mantle of the Exile one more. That was the only thing she could do.
"We head for Telos," was all she said.
And then she hurried away from them, desperate to put some distance between her and so much pain. She all but ran into the cockpit and brushed the hair from her face as heat filled her up, made her eyes sting, her brow sweat. When she heard the footsteps quickly following her, she went to the galaxy map and busied herself plotting the course. Atton came in behind her, panting with apprehension. Fear could take your breath away as easily as joy.
"Kay," he began tentatively. He reached out to touch her and she flinched.
"Don't," she snapped. "Please."
She felt him through the Force as he recoiled in pain. "You can't believe that. You can't think I'm here because you made me."
Khara felt sick. Her stomach churned angrily, her chest tightened constrictively, and nausea flooded her. The thought of him holding her, making love to her, how he was forced—it made her want to vomit.
"I…" she began with a shaky voice, "I have taken advantage of you. In every way possible."
"No," he immediately protested. "No, everything we have is real. I wanted it—I wanted it more than anything. You've gotta believe me."
"And ignore the wisdom of the Council?"
"The Council doesn't understand it because attachments are forbidden. Love makes you crazy. Love makes you change. Love looks a lot like what you're describing only you don't know it because all your life you were told to avoid it, to sever your emotions!"
"It would be easy to believe that," she whispered, "because I want to. But I can't do that to you. I can't. I care too much for you."
...
Atton didn't know how to convince her. He was so desperate to make her understand that his heart and mind were racing like he was running a marathon. Rage burned inside of him, terror gripped him. How? How could he make her see?
"I would rather be your slave," he told her, "than my own man."
She thumped her fist against the console. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that. You don't mean it."
"I do mean it. Who was I before I met you? A deserter. A coward. No one I could be proud of. I was just as alone as you were. Until you found me. Until we found each other. Now, I can say I'm proud of who I am. I'm not just running away. I'm fighting for something. Against all odds, I'm fighting. For something real, for something good. For you."
"And let you die for me?" she whispered.
"And let me live for you!" he exclaimed. "Because you make me want to be better than I am." Her head twitched to the side as though he'd struck her. What could he say? How could he make her understand? "People change, Kay. People change because of the things that happen to them, the people that come in and out of their lives." He suddenly grabbed her arms and spun her around, pinned her wrists and pushed her up against the console. She was crying. "I'm not afraid of you." He shook his head then said again, "I'm not afraid of you. Khara. I love you."
He bent to kiss her but she moved her face away. He leaned away, frowning. More tears slipped quietly out of her eyes that were red and raw from crying. But there was a hard look on her face. Determination despite distress. Atton felt helpless. He waited for her to look at him but she refused to.
Suddenly, Atton was filled with hatred. Hatred for the Jedi. They had taken all of Khara's happiness and stomped on it until all she was left with was misery, until she had lost all trust in her friends and herself. He couldn't reach her. Even dead, they had broken her spirit and walled her off from every lifeline. That damn Jedi Council had taken everything from them. If they weren't dead already, he would kill them! Fury blinded him. He punched the console so hard that it began beeping in alarm. Then he pushed himself away, turned his back on her.
Atton instinctively went back to her teachings and tried to center himself. He wasn't the man he used to be... because of her. She never gave up on him, never stopped believing in him. He would show her the same devotion. He steadied himself and turned back to her.
"I won't give up on you, Kay," he promised her. Her eyelids fluttered but she didn't look at him.
"Take us to Telos," she said numbly and then walked out.