-Gemaal-

Darth Gemaal was not pleased. It showed in the bodies piled on the floor at his feet.

"Pathetic." Gemaal murmured. His black mask looked down on the bowing Sith before him without mercy and without pity. To make an example of their failure, he executed half of them at random. He made it slow. Picking them one at a time. Kept them guessing. Some he killed within the Force by crushing their organs. Others he executed with Valkorian's blade, now in his hands thanks to Scourge.

"We are deeply sorry, our lord." The highest ranking Sith among them said firmly. He had been given a promotion… as of seconds ago.

"Sorry?" Gemaal asked flatly. He stretched the moment a beat longer. He paced around the remaining men slowly. "What does it profit me that you are 'sorry'? Will being sorry fix the mistake you have made? Will being sorry provide the results to the Emperor he so desperately desires?"

"I-"

Gemaal interrupted him, "Be careful. If the next words out of your mouth are as unprofitable and stupid as an apology, you will find your position the next open for replacement. If you must take a moment to consider your words carefully, do so. I am more tolerant of silence than stupidity."

The ranking Sith bowed his head and said nothing, so Gemaal continued a moment longer. His hand brushed the hilt of Plageus' knife hidden in his suit. "You had one job. Your job was to protect the bridge, this crew, and this ship. Instead you allow heretics and rebels to infiltrate your ranks and put me and this mission in danger. Because of your incompetence, because of your failure to keep track of your own documented ranks, we had to retreat from the battle in CS-132, giving up a full grid to-"

Gemaal stopped. A ripple in the Force drew his attention. It was small, weak, but it was unique. Amidst the Dark Side covering the Empire like a blanket there was a flash of the Light. It only lasted a minute, but it was enough. A brief flash illuminating a presence. Within it he heard a scream from a voice he recognized.

'The Padawan lives...' he now knew.

"My lord?" The ranking Sith inquired. He found it curious Gemaal was standing still and silent for so long. For Darth Gemaal to stop mid-sentence was worrying. Was he speaking to the Master within the Force? Was he receiving a vision from the god-emperor?

Gemaal turned on his heels and marched away. He knew what he needed to do. There were more important things to handle than keeping up this façade of a war.

The Sith looked to one another in complete confusion. The seconds went by and no one moved. Gemaal did not return.

"So... uh- a-are we dismissed?" One whispered.

-Varus-

Faith is a funny thing. It is not merely believing in something one cannot see. It is hope, a form of active hope where you are not a passive participate, but allowing that hope to shape you, to guide you, to give you inspiration and motivation.

Up till now, I've never had it. Faith. What is the point in believing in the unseen, when as a Miraluka, I can see it? What is the point of faith to one such as I? Up till now, it has seemed pointless. But now as I look on my sleeping wife, and my… my child… I realize how far gone I have been. I haven't needed faith to know the Force existed, but I have failed because I had no faith in one area I needed it most, the Force's intentions. The Maker's plans. I have had no hope, not in myself, not in Ahsoka, and not in a future for any of us. I have simply been going through the motions for years like a puppet being influenced by others. I have fought powers, in myself and against others, because of a past that has dragged me into the muck, yet also never having faith in what would happen after. When I was Nihilus' apprentice, I left padawans alive hoping they would kill me later. That was my endgame. When I was hunting my clones, I killed them because… I wanted to kill myself in a way. I had a small, temporary hope, but it didn't last. As one child after another died shortly after conception, what little hope I had died, and with it, my faith. My faith in myself, my faith in an important aspect of my marriage, my faith in the Force, in the Maker.

Just a few little while ago I was talking about how there was no hope.

"I've been such a fool." I whisper as I stroke my wife's hand. "I'm sorry. I've drowned so long in depression and death, that the idea of life… after all these years… has still been foreign to me. Perhaps I have clinged to you out of desperation. I've never believed myself worth it, that my life was worth anything anymore. What you see in me is beyond me… I can't even imagine what kind of father Hope will see in me. I mean, look at me. I've never had an education, I can't teach her to drive, I will have no ability to understand what she goes through as she grows up. I don't know how to teach her life when all I know is death."

I chuckle. Between me calling her Mother Hen for so long, and her teaching me life… I might just be the first baby in the room.

Ahsoka groans quietly and her eyes open slightly to see me. I smile gently. "Hey." I whisper.

"Hey, yourself… Am I dreaming?"

"One of us is. If it isn't you, it's gotta be me." This whole night could be too good to be true. My life has been one traumatic moment of drama after another. Something good for once? I am going to need some time to adjust. I ask, "How are you feeling?"

"Drained. Weaker than I've ever felt. Pain. Scarred. I felt like I was being torn apart."

"Well you did just squeeze a melon through a small tube. I'm sorry you had to go through it alone."

"Yes, well… we both knew it was necessary." Ahsoka pulls her hand away from me and tucks it into bed with her while she adjusts to a more comfortable position. I may be pouting a little bit. "But I knew you were near. Thank you for being near."

Not going to mention I had to be dragged here because as usual when I face the seemingly inevitable death of people I love my feet tend to turn the other way. Bastilla. My family. Our first attempts at children. Now Ahsoka. The fact she has to thank me is wrong, she shouldn't have to, but she also is doing it… because she knows me. She knows my instincts. I tend to go for polar extremes in the fight-or-flight area.

"Still, wish I could have taken some of your pain." I whisper. "It was agony just hearing it. You should see the wall out there. Its like a force-wrecking ball slammed into the room."

Ahsoka chuckled, "I would like to see that. Hopefully you didn't hurt anyone with your power lashing out. Hmm…" She hums, and then her eyes brighten as a thought comes to mind. Her lips curl mischievously. "There is one way we could have done for you to share the pain."

"Reviving our Force-Bond?" I question. I shake my head just as soon as I say it. "That would have been a-"

"No, no." Ahsoka starts chuckling and giggling. "You know what? You should know."

"Know what?"

"There is an ancient ritual of my people… before the Jedi. You know, my race." Ahsoka explains quietly. I nod. "When a woman is giving birth, she has a rope in her hand. On the roof of the hut sits her husband…" I nod. "With the other end of the rope tied to his -uh-" Ahsoka clears her throat. "… balls."

His… My eyes get big. Ahsoka bursts out laughing at what is no doubt utter horror and pain and shock written all over me. I blurt out, "His what?! Are you serious?!"

"Yes! It really was a practice."

"No!" I shudder. "No, no! No, no, no, no, no!" I cringe and subconciously shove my legs together.

"Just picture it. A rope tied around-"

"No!"

"And every time I have a contraction…"

I flinch that the thought. Oh, the pain! I can just imagine it! Thanks, Ahsoka!

"I just pull as HARD as I can."

I groan, "Woman, please! I don't want to think about it!" Just the thought sends shivers up my spine into my hair, making my hair feel its on end and filled with static. I rub my hands through my hair furiously. My inner electricity ripples from my skin and makes some of my longer hair stand out before I rub it out.

"Alright, alright." She continues giggling.

I give her a bit of the Sith eye. "You fit right in here you know… you and your… barbaric rituals." She just smiles proudly. No doubt she takes it as a compliment for a Sith to accuse her of fitting in with other Sith. Shouldn't Jedi be against that kinda thing?

(Note: I didn't make that up. It's an ancient Aztec practice.)

I glance up at the clock. It's been hours since she fell asleep. "Let's try another barbaric ritual. One famously called 'eating'."

"Not sure if I am hungry, yet. My body keeps giving me signals to drift off…" Ahsoka sighs sleepily. "I prefer it here…"

"Can't imagine why. We have a front row seat to the war. People kill for these seats."

Ahsoka groans in pain and turns around as best she can in the bed. "Oh… that was bad."

"What?" I chuckle.

"That joke was so bad. Not even the good kind. Just awful. Hearing that was the second most painful thing I've gone through tonight…"

I roll my eyes. "Fine. I'll head down and grab some food… and something easy for you."

I head out, giving a backwards glance to them. My family. Ahsoka. My Starmender. Its like if I leave it will all go up in smoke and the dream goes away, leaving behind the nightmare of corpses and blood to match. But even with a glance its still there.

I'll be damned if it goes up in smoke now. I gotta do better. Its not a matter of if I can or not, I have to. I will. Failure is not an option, not for Starkiller, and not for Varus.

Before I leave I use the fresher quickly to relieve myself. In the waiting room I about run into medical robots running around in a hurry and soldiers carrying as much as they can carry and running down the stairs. I raise an eyebrow. I find Cahjinawl asleep laid out over multiple chairs. Next to her sits Falcon with his head back against the wall, possibly also asleep.

I walk up and kick Falcon in the shin. He lurches up. "Ow! Wha?"

"You guys fall asleep on us?"

"Ow…" Falcon rubs his shin. "Really, man? Yeah, we stayed. The kid didn't want to leave, and its not like I had anywhere better to be."

I smile knowingly. He really isn't as uncaring as he pretends to be. He is a big softy. "Thanks. I'm going to run down and get some food for all of us."

"Mind if I come? Need to stretch my legs." Falcon raises himself on his feet and makes a show of stretching.

I roll my eyes. If he really wants to put on a charade, I'll let him. "Come on, Mr. Elastic. Let's get something for the girls." But first before we go, I nudge Cahjinawl enough for her to murmur before I whisper, "Hey, Squirt. We are going to get something for everyone. Why don't you go and give the girls some company?"

Squirt mumbles something unintelligble in her sleep. I shrug. Good enough.

We leave the waiting room, head out into the main lobby of the hospital wing, and immediately have to work against the traffic. Everything they could get their hands on that wasn't nailed down was busy being shoved into elevators or hauled down the stairs.

"Uh- We having a house-flipper episode?" I wonder.

"Not sure… I didn't hear anything about this." Falcon whispers, equally confused.

I have a bad feeling about this. What is the commotion? If we were being attacked, surely I would have felt something in the Force. "I don't like it. Ahsoka is not ready to move."

"Scourge is an ass but he wouldn't do that to her… would he?" Falcon asks himself as much as me. "I mean, I realize he is ruthless, unsympathetic, and a full-blood home-grown Sith, but as a Lord he holds himself to some kind of sense of honor to maintain respect and order. Its not complete barbarism!"

"There is no telling. I am as lost to the deeper culture of the Sith as you. Nihilus was a bit lacking in the cultural acceptance and diversity department."

Took longer than expected, but our stomachs lead the way. I had eaten just before the meeting with Scourge that kicked Ahsoka in the womb. So both yesterday and a life-time ago. All along the way we continue to see a rush of activity. Sith run by his in a frantic hurry because… reasons. Out of the whole castle, Falcon and I are probably the only two to be walking calmly.

I raise an eyebrow when we arrive to grab food, and the food is being packed up and hurried out. The chef-bots have a small assortment of preserved goods for people to grab amidst the chaos, but damn I wanted something nice.

"This will have to do." Falcon whispers. He picks up a refrigerated sandwich, or at least what amounts for it in this land, and tosses me another. Reminds me more of sliced reptile meat between tofu I grimace, but it is what it is.

Even here the constant movement doesn't escape us. It doesn't bother me in the slightest, but it brings something to Falcon's attention, because he blanks slightly and looks at me in worry.

"This is going on in every level of the castle. All of the Sith are moving." He says. He hands me what he is carrying, leaving me with an armful, and he hurries off to find Scourge and see what is going on.

I shrug. I have my own concerns. A few minutes later I leave my bounty before the girls. It is not much, merely a meager meal, but it will do for now. Ahsoka is so tired I have to help her sit up. She winces in pain.

"You alright?" I wonder.

"You try sitting on a wound..." She whispers.

I nod. I have never been shot in the ass, but I have endured wounds and had to put up with the pain. Not that I plan to comment on that. I wouldn't want the experience to be belittled when I go through it myself, though we can reflect on it later. A nurse droid enters to take care of Hope.

Seeing her brings to mind my quest. Nihilus.

"I can't let him live any longer." I reflect.

"Who?" Squirt wonders.

"Nihilus." I clarify. "Now that Hope is born, Nihilus will not allow it. He will come out of hiding, he will strike. He will kill her..."

Ahsoka pales and trembling, looks at Hope. Squirt gulps.

"But how are you going to kill him?" Squirt wonders. "You have already tried."

"I know!" I sigh. I lean back and look up in thought. She has no idea, no comprehension, as to how deeply this mystery has haunted me. She has no idea how far down the labrynth I have traveled, all the ways and methods I have attempted.

"You have already read everything there is to read on it." She adds.

"I know..." I answer. There is no knowledge on this subject I have not touched. "I have looked into books, Sith scrolls, even Nihilus' own diary and research."

"Not all of it." Ahsoka replies.

I look to her curioously. She says, "You have been chasing his holocron. Nihilus' holocron, surely it has the answer."

"Yes, but I haven't found it either, nor trace of it." I say. "I had thought perhaps he left it with the Sith Empire. A holocron of such darkness would surely be hidden in a region so Dark..."

"But nothing." Squirt concludes, partially as a question.

"Nothing." I answer.

We sit in silence. At once, hopeful, yet the reminder of Nihilus taints that hope. It is not that I want to ruin the moment, I just have to consider it. I have to know what to do. We have to understand what we fight in order to counter-act it.

Even if it means... seperation.

If we get one peep of Nihilus appearing again, Ahsoka and Hope have to run, and run, and run. I am the one he wants. I'll stay behind. What can they do if they stay but die?

I close my eyes with a sigh. Ahsoka will argue about this. She will insist. It is not just that she would want to stay with me, but she is a fighter. She wouldn't want to run. She'd rather stand to defend the family just as much as I will.

"Maybe... there is one thing you have missed." Ahsoka whispers.

I open my eyes. Missed? What could I possibly have missed? I voice this thought.

"A Sith holocron." Ahsoka answers. I stare at her. A million thoughts and feelings pass through me. Not the least of which is the memory and knowledge of what exposure to one ALREADY did to me! "I know! I know its bad, but holocrons are sources of knowledge as deep as any library. Surely they will have the answer."

"You think I should expose myself to another holocron?" I ask, slightly heated. "The last time almost killed me!"

"Try taking it in bite-size pieces, then!"

I take a moment to breath, cool down, and consider it. In truth, it has merit. "I... if that is possible, sure, but there is the problem of the fact I have already done so! I already feel I am a messed up mesh of Galon, Starkiller, Varus, and Revan. I don't want to lose who I am, I might as well admit defeat now, because in all truth, probably the one holocron that could ever have the knowledge to understand how to defeat a pure-Sith presence like Nihilus is that of Emperor Valkorian. I don't know about you, but I don't want that bastard and his thousand years all shoved in my skull."

"Then don't go with his, use Revans." Ahsoka suggests.

"An empty holocron?" I raise an eyebrow and share a confused glance with Squirt. "Well... I guess... it... could work." I consider this a moment. "An empty holocron could hold a presence like Nihilus if we can figure out how to shove him in there. Granted. It would probably be a stronger prison than the crystal from before."

"It is as good an idea as we have." Squirt agrees.

"Yeah, but we don't know where it is!!" I groan. I yell out in aggravation. "The one thing that finally has true merit and its beyond our reach! Probably crushed on Coruscant!"

"No, no." Ahsoka waves it off. "Not, the holocron. Revan. Use his knowledge."

"His memories?" I hum in thought. "He never tangled with a Force presence, though."

"No, no." Ahsoka waves it off again. "Not his memories, him. Talk with him personally."

I stare at her. I glance with Squirt. "Ahsoka, Love. Revan is dead. Dead people don't talk."

"Revan does." Ahsoka answers.

"What?" I ask, blankly.

"The brief time I was in your head, remember? When you had the concussion? I met him. I met Revan. He wasn't a memory. He was a living conciousness."

"Like... a parasite?" I ask, suddenly afraid to know the answer.

"I don't think in the same way asa plague like Nihilus would be, but I guess?"

My eyes widen. My heartbeat picks up. Words, facts, images rush through my vision too fast for me to keep up with. All I know is that something is coming together. A piece is sliding into place on a puzzle I have spent my life analyzing.

Driven by instinct and need, I jump up and bolt out of the room. The girls yell after me in surprise, but I won't go far. I run to a nearby room. I don't see anything to write or draw with, and this is the only area with a blank wall. Without any other option, I ignite lightning into a finger and draw on the wall as my thoughts come to me.

Holocrons.

Revan.

Nihilus.

Nihilus was working on a holocron.

I have never been able to find it.

Revan had a holocron.

I found it.

I have a living Revan in my head, not just base memories.

Nihilus worked on a holocron in life, the one I never found. In death he continued the work, but failed.

The Ravager was a failed holocron. A failed experiment.

A second holocron he made within the throne to control the Ravager, but it has none of his conciousness. This was his only closest success.

Why would he continue this work?

Why was Nihilus always obsessed with life and death?

Why was Nihilus always obsessed with the technology of an ancient civitilization?

Because...

I finish drawing lightning scars into the wall. It is ugly and vague, but enough for me to see it. Enough for me to finally see it, to see the big picture, to see the one thing I have always missed. Not because I haven't tried, but because Nihilus has kept it beyond my vision.

Nihilus is a skilled tactition in misdirection.

Nihilus is a liar.

Nihilus is afraid.

Nihilus is a hypocrite. He claims to hate lies, but lies himself. He claims to be beyond emotion, but is driven entirely by a lust and gluttony for eating tasty force energy and fear of death.

"I..." I murmur. "I see it." I drop my hand, lean forward, and my head hits the wall as I struggle to compose myself to stand there properly. Squirt runs into the room and looks worriedly between me and the wall. To her it probably looks like scribbles of a child. To me... it is the puzzle in its completion.

I numbly walk past her, patting her head as I walk, and return to where my family is. Ahsoka leans up as I enter, and though she must want to know what the actual hell that was about, the look on my face stops her. I walk around her, collapse into the chair from before, and put my head into my hands.

I whisper, "I know how to kill Nihilus."

"Then why do you sound so sorrowful?" Ahsoka wonders.

"I don't know." I lie.

In truth, I know why I am suddenly miserable about it. I shouldn't be, and for Force's sake, it makes no sense. But it doesn't mean I still don't feel something.

All of my life I have tried. In the way a man might beat his fists on a mountain, he will get frustrated but try it because it is about the effort more than the completion. I have never... deep down... believed I would succeed. It has been a hope, but there has always been that voice in my head telling me I am so full of shit. There has always been that doubt that it would work, because nothing else has ever worked.

After all, what hope is there to kill a god when you can't make a god bleed?

This is no longer a question. There are no more voices telling me I am just putting up a brave front, there is no longer any doubt.

I will kill Nihilus.

I will kill the man who raised me.