Kiki was falling, yet she wasn't—it certainly felt like falling, and she was sure she felt like she was being sucked into herself, although that couldn't have been possible. Without warning, she landed hard on her back, her breath completely knocked out of her. She took a moment to get her bearings, taking note of the soft grass beneath her.

Grass.

She sat up with a start, staring in amazement at her surroundings. Instead of the plain white environment she had first landed in, she was in what looked like a foggy meadow that stretched on for eternity. She couldn't see very far, and the fog that drifted across the slightly-damp grass melded with the gray skies. It was like a wall of solid color above her.

Kiki stood cautiously, looking around the wide, empty space that surrounded her. "Hello?" she called, not entirely expecting an answer. Her voice didn't echo. An increasing sense of worry formed in the pit of her stomach as she spun around to try and find a way out.

"Kiki…?" a woman's voice said behind her.

Kiki whipped her head around, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at Nirisa. "Nina..?"

There she stood, physically whole and alive. She had the same face that Kiki had looked at since childhood, the same voice that would keep her up past bedtime while they studied and laughed together—and Nirisa smiled, spreading her arms wide. "Hi, Kiki—" She was barely able to get her sentence out before she was tackled by her younger twin.

"Nirisa! You're alive, I—" Kiki buried her face into her sister's neck, overcome with emotion and unable to speak for a moment—soon after, however, her bursting feelings forced her into Verinese. "Se emike temu," she whispered, voice breaking. I missed you.

Nirisa's arms tightened around her sister. "I missed you too, sis."

"It's been so long…" Kiki couldn't keep her voice from trembling. She hugged tighter, pressing herself against the warmth, the solidness of Nirisa. She felt her pulse as if it were her own, flowing through her core and outward into the foggy air that surrounded them.

"How's life?" Nirisa asked. Kiki couldn't help her snort. "No, seriously. I can't see everything that you guys do, but I can see a little from time to time. You've been…in pain."

"As good as it'll ever be," Kiki said wryly. She stood back far enough for Nirisa to be at half-arm's length. "But my sister is in front of me and that's all I care about."

Nirisa smiled again, but it was small and mirthless. Her emerald eyes reflected whatever negativity she was about to release. "Kiki…" she said, her smile completely disappearing. "You can't stay here."

Kiki knew that—it was hard for one to forget they were in Force limbo—but she didn't want to hear what Nirisa was about to say. She firmly shook her head, trying and failing to keep Nirisa quiet. "I don't want to—"

"You know you can't, Kiki," Nirisa pressed. Her face was that of helplessness, of someone who couldn't do anything to help her current situation. Her shoulders sagged.

Kiki's jaw tightened, her mouth forming a firm line. With cold stiffness she stepped away from her sister and wrapped her arms around herself. Her skin prickled and made small bumps in reaction to the frigid feeling that suddenly took over her body—but it wasn't from outside, from the eerie grey fog that seemed to creep closer and closer. The abyss, the wintry emptiness that had fastened itself to her very core came from within. It swirled violently against her insides and made her curl in on herself. It was fear—fear and sadness and helplessness that currently ate away at Kiki, magnified to one hundred times its strength due to the situation and area she was in.

"I want to stay." Her voice was low, barely above a whisper. She hated the pathetic way it cracked and how she couldn't even look her own sister in the eye.

Nirisa bit her lip in contemplation. "It's you choice," she answered, cautiously taking a step forward.

"Then why tell me I can't?"

"Because you're expecting."

This time Kiki did look up, and didn't like what she saw. "If you know I'm pregnant," she said, straightening up, "then you know how, and you know why I can't go back."

Nirisa's face twisted into embarrassment and shame. "Kiki, I didn't mean—"

"I have nothing to live for there. I fight, I murder, and I come back to the ship with the deaths of innocent men on my head," Kiki interrupted angrily. "I can't raise a baby in the middle of a war, Nirisa." She closed the gap between them, barely half a meter away. "I can't go back, Nirisa," she said. "I just can't."

"There are still some things to consider—you have your squad," Nirisa said with pleading undertones. Her fingers grabbed Kiki's biceps with alarming force. "What about them, Kiki? Or Sunlaou and Ri? Are you going to leave them?"

Bile crept up Kiki's throat, leaving a disgusting, slimy feeling all over her insides. Could she leave Crusade Squad and her family?

It was either go back to a life of pain and potential happiness or move past limbo, into what she assumed Nirisa was also going through.

Kiki's arms wrapped around her middle, the chilling feeling taking over again. "I…I don't know…" She had been so certain of her decision until Crusade Squad came up. She could abandon the living hell she went through without issue, but what about her adopted family?

Kiki collapsed onto the damp grass, pulling her knees up to her chest. The heels of her cold palms pressed into her eyes until white spots flashed in the otherwise dark and empty environment she'd created. Besides the despair that was prevalent, an anger, a fury aimed at no one and everyone boiled beneath the heavy cloak. If she went back she would have to face the Council, and they would force her to make a decision: either keep the child and be forced to leave the Jedi Order, thus abandoning Crusade Squad and the 686th, or give her child up and possibly leave it in the hands of a stranger, unable to check on its life or watch it grow up.

Crusade Squad could hate her. The Council could hate her. The 686th could hate her. Her unborn child could hate her once she grew old enough to understand what hatred was and who to aim it at.

Her emotions ebbed and flowed, swirled and twisted in her mind, It was wholly uncomfortable and did nothing to soothe her anxieties— suddenly, there was calm. Silence.

Kiki rose, looking up to see Nirisa hadn't moved from her spot in the grass. The sudden calm is a strange feeling, so deep and enmeshed in her skin that Kiki realized it was something she hadn't felt in years. This was the first time in her life, she felt, she was absolutely certain about a decision she was going to make.

When Kiki met Nirisa's eyes, the same sadness from before hadn't left them—she realized it had always been there, right from the moment they first met in the dewy plains. She also noticed that Nirisa's green eyes were nowhere near as green as they used to be. Maybe it was the washed-out tones of the plains, or maybe it was because Nirisa was actually dead and Kiki was most likely hallucinating.

Kiki didn't dwell on it. She focused on the calm feeling and let the certainty flow through her.

"You've chosen." Nirisa's voice was soft. She stayed standing where she was, immobile.

Kiki didn't say anything; she only nodded.

Jax woke up—or felt like he did.

He also felt like he'd slept wrong and pulled every muscle possible in his body. With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his head and trying not to jerk too much in the process.

"Ow…" he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "Ow ow ow…"

Jax sat as still as he could for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to completely fade before attempting to move. His muscles were left with a heavy, achy feeling as if he'd exercised non-stop for three days. The only pain that refused to stop was the throbbing in his chest. It felt like a hot iron was poking his heart and lungs—yet, somehow, it didn't impede his breathing. After another moment of rest, Jax opened his eyes and was met by blinding white. As far as the eye could see, it was plain, pure white, even the ground he was supposedly sitting on.

Jax launched himself to his feet, frantically looking around for some sign of something…something normal. There was absolutely nothing; he was completely alone.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Jax's shackles rose for absolutely no reason—there was nothing around, so what was there to be afraid of? Yet felt the ever-familiar sinking feeling expand itself in his stomach and his fingers begin to tremble with trepidation. "H-Hello?" he called out again, much more fearful this time. It occurred to him that he was completely, utterly, alone.

Out of habit, he spins around, eyes frantically searching left and right for Edger, but of course, he wasn't there. Neither was Ridge or Ratchet or any other members of Crusade Squad. General Dei* was missing as well, which gave Jax a whole new list of worries to consider.

"H-Hello?" Still no answer.

"That's just like you; panicking when you don't know what's going on."

Chilling fingers traced icy tracks in Jax's veins until his whole body was cold with a fear he hadn't felt for a long time. He turned around and was met with the same disdainful yet mocking face he'd hoped never to see again.

"Aren't you going to stand at attention in front of a superior?" Jax's sergeant asked, scowling. "Is this how much you've forgotten already?"

On instinct, Jax's shoulders straightened and his back stiffened. His face fell into the same neutral yet scared expression it always did whenever he heard his sergeant's voice. His body was hit with an overwhelming rush of emotions, of caution, of fear—of fear-induced adrenaline, which comes with its own set of shaking and trickles of sweat and stomach cramps.

Jax had hoped for months and months that he would never have to feel those things again.

"You're looking…average," his sergeant said. Jax wasn't expecting a compliment, but his words still stung. "I see not much has changed since I left—still a poor shot, still a coward, still—"

Jax tried his best to tune him out, but keywords always managed to worm their way through his curtain: weak, small, impotent, not much in the way of a man or a soldier. Jax swallowed and forced himself to remain as still as possible.

"What? Not going to defend yourself?" his sergeant leered. "I shouldn't have expected as much from you…"

Like always, the abuse was too much. Jax flinched and his head dipped, his shoulders rising to crowd around his ears. In a weak attempt to make himself feel better, Jax spoke. "I-I thought I'd made some difference with myself…"

"As far as I can tell, absolutely nothing has changed," his sergeant said, giving Jax a slow, painful once-over. "You're still in love with the general, soldier."

Jax's head snapped up, red tinting his cheeks. "S-Sergeant Bull I swear I—"

"Quiet, soldier," Bull barked. "You told me you'd get rid of that distraction years ago, Jax."

It only then occurred to Jax that this was the first time sergeant Bull had ever said his name; back when he and Edger were in their old squad, they had only numbers, and Bull only said the last two digits. It didn't matter either way—everything Bull said sounded like a swear, an insult to whoever he was talking to. This moment was no different.

Jax didn't know whether it was appropriate for him to speak or not, so he remained silent in the hopes he wouldn't get reprimanded again. It didn't work.

"You've got nothing to say, soldier?" Bull shook his head, disgusted. "I knew I couldn't count on you for this."

"I-I-I can't help it, sir…" Jax's voice, small and weak and insignificant, barely made it to his own ears. "I-I've tried but I c-can't—"

"Are you telling me," Bull said, his voice dangerously low, "that you've ignored my explicit order to forget about this frivolous infatuation you've harbored and continued to hold these feelings for your commanding officer?"

Cold, slimy dread gripped Jax's intestines and settled there. "S-Sir I-I'm sorry—"

"You're sorry?" Sergeant Bull actually sounded offended.

"I-I don't know what to do, I—" Jax stammered. His eyes immediately fell to the ground in shame and confusion. A blank white scape stared back at him. "I-I can't figure out—"

"Here's something you obviously have yet to realize, soldier," Bull interrupted. "She has no interest in you. Do you understand? As soon as you realize that a woman like her would never take interest in a clone like you," he spat, "the sooner you'll get over these ridiculous feelings for her. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Jax muttered, an automatic response. He couldn't keep his head from hanging in shame. Sergeant Bull was right; Jax wasn't anything special. He wasn't much and could barely look people in the eye as it was. What chances of romance did he have with anyone?

Bull scoffed. "You're never going to learn," he muttered to himself, and his visage disappeared.

Jax was alone. Again.

With the weight of humiliation and embarrassment bringing him down, Jax collapsed onto the nonexistent ground and semi-crossed his legs. Why did he ever hold onto the hope that General Dei would be attracted to him? It was ridiculous from the moment the notion had taken hold in his mind, but he'd done nothing to stop it—instead, he'd let in run rampant and implant itself. The only thing that would dig it out now was a knife.

Oddly enough, that sharp, burning sensation he'd been feeling for the duration of his meeting with Sergeant Bull strengthened tenfold. Fire radiated through his limbs and burned in his spine. Jax groaned and curled forward as best he could, his muscles stiff with the pain.

"You alright?" a voice above him asked. Jax managed to crane his neck to look at…himself. A clone who looked exactly like him—same jaw, same mouth, same face. Jax wasn't sure how far this weird hallucination was going to go, but he wanted it to stop immediately.

"Are you alright?" Second-Jax asked again, bending slightly in concern.

Jax didn't say much, only mumbled a barely-an-answer response and fiddled with his glove. He didn't want to think about it.

"That was…that was pretty rough," Second-Jax pressed. He nudged Jax's boot with his own. "You know nothing he says is true, right?"

Jax shook his head. "No, he is right," he replied. "About…about everything." He didn't see it, but he knew Other-Jax shook his head.

"He's not right—he just says that stuff to get under your skin. You know that. He did it with your other squad mates, just in different ways," Second-Jax said. When he didn't get a response, he sits down directly across from Jax, his own legs semi-crossed. "It's okay for you to love someone; it's not like you can help it."

Jax adamantly shook his head. "No, this is my fault, and I intend to fix it," he said. "I shouldn't…I shouldn't have continued to look at her the way I did, or continued to think about her even when Sarge told me not to—"

"That's not your fault, Jax," Second-Jax interrupted. "Your being a clone doesn't make falling in love wrong—"

"Yes it does," Jax insisted. "I'm a clone—I'm not bred for falling in love or making it or entertaining fantasies about doing either." The words formed and fell without Jax's conscious thought, and the other Jax knew it was because he was reciting it. "My duties as a soldier are to fight and serve the Republic—and no woman would fall in love with a soldier like me, period. It's not my place to try and change things."

Second-Jax sighed and pursed his lips. "She's cares for you," he said.

Jax startled just a bit. Cared for him? Him? "W-What do you mean by 'cares' for me?" he asked, slightly nervous.

"I mean she loves you—all of you. Her being a Jedi or a woman doesn't keep her from caring very deeply about you and always being concerned for your wellbeing." Second-Jax scooted a little closer, till the tips of their boots were touching. His face softened with the same sympathy Jax imagined General Dei felt when a shinie got her. "Don't beat yourself up over something like this—what you're feeling isn't wrong, Jax."

Jax was teetering, it was evident—he could lean forward and believe what Twin-Jax told him, about clones romantically or sexually loving people not being wrong, or he could fall back on what Sergeant Bull had drilled into him for years now.

Jax took a breath. Some part of the pain in his limbs subsided. "I-I guess…I guess you're right…" he conceded. "I don't think…It's not really something I can control, is it?"

Second-Jax shook his head. "Nope—but don't worry; this won't end in disaster the way you keep thinking it will."

Jax burned a little at that. "Are you sure?"

A gentle smile. "I'm positive. Don't hold onto fear."

"A-Alright," Jax answered, fingering his boot. When he looked up again, his mirror image was gone. Despite being alone in the empty vastness of whatever limbo he was trapped in, he didn't feel alone—still in an immense amount of pain, but he felt oddly…better about himself. It was difficult to explain.

Jax rose to his feet with some difficulty, stretching out his legs. He hoped he wouldn't forget what Twin Jax had told him. It was the first time he was hearing something like that. The whole "you are who you are" and "don't be ashamed of yourself" speech was novel to him. He felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Immediately after standing, a ringing sound started in his right and traveled to his left. Jax tried to rub it out but couldn't quite get to it—instead, it actually got worse. The ringing turned into rushing and then a deafening roar. Jax was going to cover his ears against the onslaught of noise when his body went cold and the air was ripped out of him.

I'm sorry for dying. I'm getting back into the flow of writing, but I honestly don't know when I'll be able to update any of my other fics again (I'm also trying to do a rewrite of all the chapters).

But don't fret—I have major plans in store for the rest of this story.

~AAx

Note: Almost everything about these characters has changed completely. Jax now has anxiety, Bliz has PTSD and Depression, and everyone else has their own problems as well (also Cord is nowhere near as emotionless anymore). I have major editing to go through.

*General Dei is still Kiki. I've given her a name change, but that was decided in the middle of this arc, unfortunately. No one be confused, please.