Zaphthosis

Sara answered the door to find Nash standing there. She knew it would be Nash five minutes earlier when Sila began to sing out, "Daddy Nas comin' Mama. Daddy Nas comin'."

Sila began to call Nash "Daddy Nas" within days of their arrival, and the sad truth was it didn't matter anymore. At some point in their time there, Sara lost the energy to maintain her constant state of hostility and anger. What never left her was a quiet pain that threatened to overwhelmed her, and she quickly learned that all of these emotiins were more costly to her and Sila than damaging to Nash. While she could not prevent the hatred she felt toward Nash for what he had done from brewing deep inside, she was forced to hold it in for Sila's sake. It turned on her as she lost sleep along with her appetite. Eventually, she worked her way to being where she was in that moment - swinging like a pendulum between extreme sadness and total numbness.

So, "numb" Sara stood there, silently staring at Nash standing in the doorway and waiting for him to speak. She wasn't going to facilitate things to make them easier for him. He came to see them, so he could do the talking.

"Good afternoon, Sara," Nash said pleasantly. "I was hoping we could talk. The two of us. Alone." Sara glanced back at Sila and the Nanny Droid who was hovering at the precise distance Sara had insisted upon – no less than 2 meters.

"Now?" Sara said flatly.

"Yes, please, if you can manage it. I'm going to be extraordinarily–"

"Where?" she asked.

Nash glanced around and gestured to his left. "The studio?"

Sara nodded and led the way into the bright, cavernous room. In spite of her situation, she had managed to do some painting. She set her works against the wall, completely unconcerned with their disposition after she finished them. Nonetheless, they would find their way into the spaces Nash had left open for her new works.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice void of feeling.

"Well, it has been some time since you arrived. I thought it might be good for us to talk - as Sila's parents - and try to determine what we both feel is best for her," Nash explained.

Sara tried to resist glaring at him. His calmness was off-putting. But his referring to himself as Sila's parent was something altogether different - and much worse than simply unnerving.

"I see," Sara said. "It's been some time since we... arrived. That's a very odd way of putting it. But all of that is – what? In the past? It's 'been some time' and we are where we are now. So, why not let this be a new starting point, correct?" Sara was shocked by her own calmness. Then again, Paxson had been preparing her for this moment for days.

Nash put one hand in his pocket and began to pace several steps back and forth, rubbing his chin with the other. When he stopped, he turned to look at Sara who had moved as far away from him as the room would allow. "I wouldn't expect you to be anywhere other than where you are – emotionally, physically… not in any respect whatsoever. I am acutely aware that any attempts to rewrite history merely create illusions, and those fade. The truth of it – well, that cannot be avoided. What I am asking – or rather suggesting – is that you consider the truth from another perspective."

Nash slowly walked over to a small stool - much too low for his tall frame and long legs. He sat and somehow made it work. Without hearing an objection, he continued. "Our families, our homes, our identities were stolen from us in an instant – in less time than it took to gasp. We both endured it, so the experience – well, we both understand this without the need for painful elaboration. In that light, knowing that in all of the Galaxy you are utterly and completely alone and unconnected to another being... I wonder if... if maybe you could bring yourself to imagine the moment I learned I have a daughter?"

Nash looked up and met Sara's gaze. She was affected by his words, and she knew he could see it.

"Before this, I had already learned that a woman with whom I had been romantically involved – a woman I cared for and betrayed in equal measure - had married a man I despised. My personal experience with this man revealed him to be the laziest and least motivated subordinate I ever had the displeasure of commanding. Much worse was that he inflicted cruelty and violence on his younger brother. This man stole my private property while I was gravely injured and used what he learned to buy his way out of the Imperial service, setting in motion a chain of events that I regret to this day. And this man – this man - is to be a father. My daughter's father."

Nash was standing again, resuming his slow pace with one hand in his pocket and the other now rubbing his eyes. He stopped, both hands now in his pockets, and stared up at a series of Sara's paintings - one of which was completed with Sila's help. "In all of the Galaxy, I was the only thing that remained of the generations of life, love, hopes, dreams – of what was a great family. I would have mourned for my parents and grandparents. I would have grieved and felt the things one must feel to find peace and move forward. Had I not tried to kill Tarkin, I'd have lived a miserable existence for a while, then life would have led me wherever it led me."

Sara remained silent. She reminded herself that this man was her captor and Dalven would be dead had Nash gotten his way.

"And I wouldn't have met a very shy, pretty nurse who made me forget all of the darkness when I was with her. She made me want to be who I was before... before... well, I tried to rewrite history. I know I hurt her with cruel illusions, but something very real came of it all." Nash turned back to face Sara.

Sara looked away, trying to hide her weakness when confronted with the truth. She sniffled and refused to face Nash. This wouldn't change anything.

"I dreamed of her, Sara. I had never seen her, or heard her voice, or felt her skin. But I dreamed of her every night. I had to know her. I obtained regular updates and video footage, and I watched her growing and doing amazing things. And I watched her mother's hands reach out to her and hold her, watching scene after scene of this beautiful creation. It wasn't just Sila, she created something beautiful in you, too. Sometimes, I swear, I'd lose my breath watching you giggling and staring at one another." Nash stopped, brought his knuckle up to his nose and sniffled.

Sara said nothing. She sat on her stool, with her hands clasped in her lap and looked down. Paxson had encouraged her to allow Nash to talk until he had said everything he was willing to say, and to keep her comments brief so he couldn't manipulate and confuse her.

"I brought you here with hopes that Sila and I would form a bond, and maybe seeing that bond would have the same effect on you. It sounds crazy. I understand that it does. In one way things have gone better than I could ever have dreamed. Sila and I have an inexplicably powerful bond. It's so intense it…well, it scares me… a little." Nash stared at Sara looking for her reaction.

"How," Sara asked, "does it scare you?"

Nash reflexively sat and scooched his little stool toward Sara's as if she had just invited him in closer with the question.

Dammit! Sara scolded herself. Sara remained still.

"It's powerful, Sara. It grows more and more powerful every day. She can see and perceive things that should be far beyond a child's grasp. She's been doing calculations in her head that are utterly impossible – such as ship rotations and when to expect me to return if I leave on a particular ship. The other day, she—"

"That's why she was crying for you?" Sara asked. "You left on a ship and she expected you back by a certain time?" Sara took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Well, there's that."

"Yes, there's that. That's not all of it, though. If we're to be completely open about it, our connection through the Force is much more powerful than this. I don't know how to explain it or have any examples to compare it to. I refuse… that is, I will never compare it to my experiences with the Dark side. I will die before I allow Sila to be influenced by the Dark side of the Force."

Sara was looking at Nash now, and he became aware of her confusion. "There's nothing Dark in our daughter, Sara. There was nothing Dark in me, and there would not have been had Vader not discovered my gifts. Between Sila and me, it's a happy connection. I can usually feel it in the center of my chest. Mentally, I visualize giving it a slight tug, and to my amazement she'll tug back. Even if I can't see her or hear her. It's just an awareness that things are alright. I'm ashamed to admit that it was her that first sought me out and did the tugging. A toddler making sure her father is safe... it's remarkable."

Nash shook his head, but his expression was full of awe and joy – just as Dalven's was from the moment he first held Sila in his arms to the last time they were together, Sara thought.

And then it hit Sara. Sila would not share this type of connection with Dalven. He couldn't. Did Sila know there was something missing? Was she so attentive to Dalven because she was looking for signs? Sara tried to stop herself from finishing the thought but failed. Did she know Dalven was not her father the entire time?

"Sara, you've given me more time than I expected. I just wanted to share some of these things with you. I needed you to hear it from me. And I am hopeful – as insane as it may be – that we will find an answer that brings happiness to all three of us." When Sara did not overtly rebuke him, Nash continued. "I would like to ask if you might be willing to consider making a plan. I think Sila needs to understand the truth about the people around her, and we need to allow her the opportunity to form bonds based on these truths," Nash suggested, though his tone had dropped a little and his confidence waned.

Sara did not respond. She looked away without saying a word. Tears continued to fall in a steady stream down her cheeks, but she made no sound other than the occasional sniffle. Nash stood and walked toward the door. He paused. With his back to Sara, he said, "I won't expect you to try, or even be angry if you can't. Maybe you can just think about it?" Nash waited another moment, then continued to the door.

"Plans," Sara said quietly. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and used the backs of her hands to wipe tears from her face. "Maybe like forming a family tree – or maybe... two trees that depict her family in both the pre- and post-Alderaanean era."

Sara finally looked toward the door to find Nash standing there, his expression reflecting both surprise and uncertainty. It took a few seconds, but Nash slowly stepped back into the room and made his way back to the stool. He seemed hesitant at first, but apparently took Sara not saying anything as an unspoken invitation to sit.

"A family tree?" Nash said quietly.

"Yes," Sara replied.

Nash looked down and stared at the floor for what felt like an eternity. When he finally looked up, he was smiling and apparently forgot to be mindful of his precarious seating arrangement. He nearly fell off the stool. "Uh – yes. I would like that very much," Nash said, standing and setting the stool to the side. He sat cross-legged on the floor. "I was hoping… I mean I had not allowed myself to think—"

"Nash, neither of us have our families anymore. We made a child. Only we know her roots." Sara paused before continuing. "This is about what Sila will want. She will want to know everything. We need to figure out who will belong on her branches." Sara managed to lock eyes with Nash and said, "Think about this. Gan, Geth and Lucy. Ciena, Thane and the twins. Grhan and Ke—"

Nash was staring at Sara with a blank look on his face. He blinked rapidly and Sara coukd see his thoughts had skid to a stop.

"Ciena? Twins? You didn't know?" Sara asked. "I figured you would know. I wasn't trying to cause you discomfort." Nash nodded and seemed to believe she meant it. "I think you understand my point – about Sila's family."

"Sara, is there any circumstance – any conceivable circumstance - you can see having a joint custody arrangement?" Nash asked with an interesting dose of curiosity.

"Only if she were to travel to Jelucan through trusted intermediaries. There could never be contact between you and anyone on Jelucan. You can never set foot on Jelucan. You're wanted for two counts of attempted murder and a slew of other charges I don't see going away any time soon."

Nash sighed and rubbed his forehead. "How do people speak of me in her presence? How would they react if Sila spoke of me?"

Sara needed to be careful. It was Nash, so she had to tell the truth or he would know she was lying. "I don't recall anyone speaking of you in her presence. If she were to bring you up, those around her would need to mask any negative feelings and allow her to take joy in what makes her happy. It's not all that hard to do."

Nash looked skeptical, but was not dismissing the possibility outright. "How often would she go to Jelucan? I would like her formal training in the maths, sciences, and arts to be here," Nash suggested. "Or at least someplace more... advanced... than Jelucan."

"Not the arts. She should learn the arts from me. I studied at Alderaneaan Institute, and… well, it's something I need to do with her. It's the one way I know our relationship can be special," Sara said, a bit melancholy.

Nash stood and approached Sara, pausing with a little less than a meter between them. "Sara – you are Sila's mother. All of this Force stuff – it's just energy and a unique way it passes through and binds us together. Sometimes in weird and inexplicable ways. But Sila and you – that's magic," Nash shared.

Sara glanced up and saw Nash's sincere expression, his warm brown eyes, and his concern for how she was feeling about Sila. Before she could reply, he turned and walked over to one of her walls with paintings. "This one," he said, pointing to one displayed a meter from the ceiling. "That's the one you told me mattered the most," Nash recalled. "Am I correct?" He turned to see Sara staring up at the painting, a tear making its way down her cheek.

"Ye… -uh… yes, I think it is," Sara stumbled. When did I tell him this? It was an older painting that never sold, most likely due to the name which sounded ominous, but was anything but. Sara's mother, a doctor, was on a mercy mission in the outer rim and Sara asked her to have someone translate, "A life of service."

The sound of the door chime was like a giant hook yanking Sara out of Nash's orbit and into safety. She stood and allowed herself to make eye contact with him. "We can talk about this more tomorrow. I will think about what you've said. The only promise I can make to you is that Sila will always come first. If it is what it is best for Sila and her future, I owe it to her to consider it. What is best for her is what makes her safe, happy, and allows her to use her gifts and talents to make things better for the Galaxy."

Nash was nodding. The chime sounded again and Sara started to turn away, pausing long enough to say, "What you need to think about is how you will handle things when our ideas of what those three things are conflict. If you want to know what scares me the most, it's that I don't think you know what you are capable of doing – whether it is out of love, hate, or indifference."

Sara turned back. Nash was nodding. "I will, Sara. I promise, I will consider what you have said. For Sila, and… for you."