Chapter Thirty-seven

Atton was nearly beside himself with worry as he made a third circuit of the ship in search of Aeryn. Mira cracked one eye open in annoyance but made no move to get up from her sprawled position in the chair in the security room as he interrupted her nap once more.

"You're sure she didn't come through here?" he demanded with a touch of desperation in his tone.

"As sure as I was ten minutes ago, Atton," she muttered, sealing her eyes shut again and readjusting her position to get more comfortable in the stiff seat. "You know, have you ever tried giving her space? Sometimes people just want to be alone."

Atton raked his hand through his hair nervously and shook his head. "And sometimes being alone is dangerous."

Mira snorted as Atton left the room once more, but as soon as she was certain he was gone, she sat up and sighed sadly, her head resting heavily in her hands. It was too hard to admit that she was worried too. They all were.

When Bao-Dur had struck down Vrook, Aeryn had just stood there, staring at his body for what felt like an eternity. No one had known what to say, and even Kreia had stayed silent, waiting for some sign from Aeryn as to what they should do next. Finally, when Aeryn had ripped her eyes from the corpse, she turned her back on them and said simply, "Bring him."

The entire walk back to the ship had been utterly silent, everyone at a complete loss for words. Visas had been waiting at the base of the loading ramp to the Hawk, the look on her face revealing that she knew well enough what had transpired. Aeryn had stared, expressionless, at the Miraluka for a few seconds, then drifted into the ship.

From that moment on, Visas had kept them all busy preparing a funeral pyre for the Jedi Master, and despite both Bao-Dur and Atton's attempts to seek out Aeryn, Visas had kept them away with an almost violent resolve. "She needs time, and you will give it to her."

The moment the pyre had been lit, Mira had wandered back into the ship – the whole business made her sick, and she wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel. She didn't know Vrook personally, and she hadn't been a Jedi long enough to say she understood what loosing one like this meant to the Jedi as a whole. With a weary sigh, she leaned back in her chair once more, secretly wishing Atton luck if he did happen to find Aeryn.

Certain that he had searched everywhere aboard the ship, Atton walked aimlessly down the loading ramp. The night was dark and moonless, marred only by the still blazing pyre located several yards off the edge of the landing pad. For a moment he just stared at the leaping flames in silence, then with a sigh he muttered, "Where are you sweetheart?"

"Up here."

Atton nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected answer and he spun around in surprise, but realizing the voice had come from higher, Atton backed slowly away from the Hawk. Aeryn's huddled form finally came into view, sitting on the hull of the ship, her knees drawn up to her chest as she gazed expressionlessly at the pyre. Without a word, Atton sprinted around the rear of the ship and climbed the ladder there, cautiously crossing the uneven surface to where Aeryn sat.

As he lowered himself to sit beside her, Atton suddenly felt helpless and awkward in spite of his relief at finding her. He had no idea what he should say, no idea even what she could possibly be feeling, and his own confusion silenced him for a time. Finally he asked impotently, "Are you alright?"

Aeryn was silent for a while, her gaze never leaving the roaring flames. "No," she eventually answered. "I don't think I am."

Atton caught sight of a datapad in her hand. "What's that?"

Her grip tightened on the datapad and she answered simply, "Vrook's journal."

"What? Where did you get that?"

"I went back to the Enclave."

"You…what?" The scoundrel wanted to chide her for taking the risk going alone, but he bit his tongue. "What does it say?"

"Nothing."

"That's it? Just…nothing?"

"Nothing of value."

"Well, was he working with Atris? Did it really happen the way he said it did? What really happened with the salvagers?" Atton couldn't accept that the old man had kept a journal yet said "nothing of value."

Aeryn's sighed heavily. "Here," the datapad clattered noisily on the hull of the ship between them as Aeryn let it slip through her fingers, "take a look yourself if you really want to know."

"I'm sorry," Atton said hesitantly. "I'm just-."

"I know. I just don't…." Aeryn shook her head, her focus still on the burning pyre.

Trying to keep his frustration in check, Atton silently pocketed the journal and asked, "What can I do to help? Just tell me, Aeryn, and I will do it."

Slowly she turned her head to face him, and the pain in her eyes burned Atton to the core. "I wish I hadn't brought you into this," she murmured, barely restrained tears pooling in her eyes, "any of you. I should never have allowed myself to form bonds again. I should have done this alone - Revan said that this was my responsibility."

"Don't do that," Atton begged as he scooted closer to her, unsure if he should try to put his arm around her or not. "Stop making everything about you. Sometimes these things happen and we can't stop them."

"No, that's just it, these things don't just happen!" Aeryn was shaking as the tears started to fall. "Why would the Force allow this? Why? What was possibly gained by Vrook's death?"

Sick of holding back, Atton wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his chest. She hesitated for only a second, then tucked her head under his chin and cried. She didn't sob or make a scene, but just relaxed and let the tears run freely as she mourned "I don't know," Atton whispered softly into her hair, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat as he witnessed her grief. "But it's not your fault, sweetheart. It's not your fault."

Aeryn's only reply was a soft shake of her head, but she did not argue. She let herself be held for a long while like that, her eyes drifting to rest on the pyre until it died to embers. Knowing the moment would not last forever and was unlikely to be repeated any time soon, if ever, Atton relished the feeling of her in his arms.

Not an hour later the scoundrel was not surprised to hear someone clear their throat from the ground below them. Canderous tilted his head as he studied them, his expression unreadable, then said flatly, "I just received word from my men."

Aeryn nodded and wiped her face as she pulled away from Atton. "Gather everyone in the common room please." The Mandalorian nodded and disappeared back inside the ship. Atton started to stand, but Aeryn stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you," she whispered, her blue eyes bright with emotion.

With a sad smile, Atton brushed her cheek gently with the back of his fingers. "Anytime."

Taking her hand, Atton helped her to her feet and together they made their way off the hull and up the loading ramp. "What's the word, Canderous?" Aeryn asked as they joined the rest of the crew, most of whom looked exhausted and nervous.

"Xarga's been keeping a close eye on the war as it progresses on Onderon," he began, his expression grim. "Judging by recent activities, he believes that Vaklu is organizing his forces for a full scale assault on the palace."

"Damn it," Aeryn sighed. "And still no word from Kavar?"

"Nothing. But there's little chance the palace will survive the combined strength of the military and the Sith."

Aeryn rubbed her forehead for a moment and sighed again. "Take us back to Dxun," she finally said to Atton. "At this point we may never hear from Kavar. Hell, maybe we can do something to tip the balance for the Queen. I'm assuming there's been no luck finding the Sith base either?"

"Unfortunately no."

"Why is nothing easy?" the weary woman breathed. "Okay, Atton, get us pointed in the right direction and then all of you are ordered to get some rest. If I catch anyone doing anything more stressful than using the 'fresher or making caffa for the next twelve hours, I will sedate you." If she was aiming for levity, then Aeryn missed the mark by a long shot, but they all nodded and obeyed nonetheless.

Alone in the cockpit, Atton gave one last long look at the dying embers of the funeral pyre before he prepped the Ebon Hawk for take off. His focus on the instruments, the scoundrel did not notice as Master Zez-Kai Ell stepped out of the shadows to watch the ship disappear into the dark sky.

-

"Breaking your own orders, General?"

Aeryn glanced up from the workbench in the garage and offered Bao-Dur a distracted partial smile. "I just slept for ten hours straight," she answered, her eyes narrowed on her lightsaber as she eased a new lens upgrade into place carefully. Of course, "sleep" wasn't really the right word for ten hours of nightmares and half-visions that woke her every hour and left the Exile sweating like she'd run for miles. "Besides, making caffa is more work than this."

"If you say so." Bao-Dur's face turned utterly serious as he eased the garage door closed. "Do you…have some time to talk, General?"

"Of course." She'd been waiting for him to come to her when he was ready, despite Aeryn's fear that the inevitable conversation would possibly be harder for her than for him. "Give me a minute to finish this up."

The Iridonian nodded and tidied his tools up in a sign of uncharacteristic nervousness until she closed her lightsaber and weighted it in her hand. Nodding in satisfaction that the balance felt good, Aeryn clipped the weapon to her belt and leaned back against the workbench to study her Tech. "What's on your mind?"

Bao-Dur frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "I would think you'd already know the answer to that."

"Humor me."

Taken off guard by her behavior, it took Bao-Dur a moment to decide what to say. "I'm sorry," he finally said shortly.

"For what happened in the Enclave?"

"Yes."

Aeryn shook her head with a frown. "You shouldn't be sorry for protecting me."

"I'm not." The answer was immediate and absolutely certain, as was his clarification as he added, "I'm sorry that he had to die so I could protect you."

The cool façade Aeryn had been going for was beginning to crumble and she sighed sadly. "What I meant is I should never have placed you in that position in the first place. Again."

A shadow of confusion passed the Iridonian's face, but he quickly realized her meaning and scowled. "General, what I did at Malachor was my doing, not yours, and you bear no responsibility for my actions."

"Of course I do. I was your commanding officer and it was my order that created that weapon and my order that set it off. I am responsible."

Bao-Dur's shoulders slumped and he gave her a "stop being difficult look" as he murmured, "General…."

"No," Aeryn interrupted, her hand held up as if she could physically stop him from speaking. "There is no point arguing, old friend. We cannot change the past…even if it won't leave us alone," she added softly to herself.

The Tech's soft brown eyes caught the haunted look that passed over her face. "You still hear them, General?" Aeryn looked up, startled. "I do. My dreams are filled with their screams…but the silence that follows is far worse. Worse than death."

"You heard them?" Aeryn crossed the room to stare up at him in shock. "How? How could you have heard them?"

"I know I didn't hear them like you did," he answered uncertainly, but his gaze was looking through her as he remembered. "You were screaming too. I wanted to help you, but I couldn't think over the sound of their screaming…in my head. I don't know how to explain it, General. It was like this sound on the edge of hearing, but it was…deafening at the same time." He shook his head and fell silent, his eyes once more focusing on her face.

"But…it didn't deafen you." Aeryn was staring at him with something akin to awe in her eyes. "It almost killed me…maybe it should have killed me, but you survived."

"I wasn't a Jedi then," he reminded her.

"Still…" she faded off and began to pace the length of the room, her focus now on the floor. "There's something significant about this…."

A little worried by that statement, Bao-Dur frowned as he asked, "What do you mean?"

Aeryn paced another minute as if she hadn't heard him, but eventually she came to a stop and looked up at him once more. "The Force has been showing me things," she began slowly, "things I didn't understand. But now…I think some of it's starting to make sense. I'm going to need your help."

"Anything, General."

With a wary glance around the room, Aeryn quickly locked both doors to the garage. "No one can know what we're doing," the Exile said with harsh conviction. "If you're willing to trust me on this, then perhaps all of this pain and sacrifice can be for a purpose."

"You know I'm behind you all the way," Bao-Dur answered without hesitation.

"Then the first thing we need to do is make some modifications to your remote…."

-

It was amazing how the people aboard the Ebon Hawk fell into a routine as they traveled back toward Dxun. An outside observer would never have guessed that they'd all witnessed and experienced horrific tragedies beyond most people's worst nightmares. To the unknowing eye, they seemed like a well-coordinated group, driven and focused on their mission. Even their private conversations were decidedly friendlier than they had been, and fights among their droid companions were far more common than fights between those of flesh and blood. If any of them remembered the sight of Lorna Vash's ruined, disemboweled body, or the fury that flashed in Vrook's eyes at the sight of a certain one of their companions, then they hid it well. No one spoke of those things, or dwelt upon what had happened in the past, distant or recent. Life revolved around training and learning and developing trust in one another, and it seemed that nothing else mattered.

In the center of it all, Kreia silently observed the crew, and in the shadows of her cowl she smiled.