"Wait," I hissed at him, but he didn't. Knight Jinn stood smoothly, the helmet in his hand a forgotten leftover from his castaway persona. He walked with quick, clean strides to the office and opened the door with no warning. He just walked right in, calm as you please. I stared after him, fascinated in spite of myself. I knew I should have gone back the way we had come and waited near the swoops, or at least huddled back under the desk in the little cube and waited until he called me back out, but instead I watched, eyes locked on the scene unfolding in front of me.

I'd never actually seen a Jedi at work before. I've seen the historical holos, not just of the Jedi fighting to free my planet, but of my own people fighting beside them and dying to protect them. I've also worked beside Ishtari, but neither of those was quite the same thing as watching him go about his assigned business with Jedi calm and discipline.

Knight Jinn didn't have his lightsabre with him, something like that would have been ridiculously hard to hide in such a close community as a swoop gang, but he wasn't unarmed. He had a blaster tucked into the waistband on his pants, under the back of his open jacket, and he had the Force. Even with only the helmet in his hands, swinging so casually by his side that he would have looked strange without it, Qui-Gon was a formidable figure.

If I was looking for confusion from Jayek when Qui-Gon walked into that office, I was doomed to disappointment. There was a slight flicker of irritation, a hint of surprise, and then near instant recognition of who, or rather what, it was he faced. The door was still open, so I could hear him clearly when he spoke.

"They were very clever to keep you away from me," Jayek stated flatly, neither giving praise, nor condemning, but as if mentioning a trick a particularly bright pet had managed to learn. "They must have known I'd have fingered you for a cop spy before you could blink."

"They don't know what either of us are," Qui-Gon replied steadily. "Cleverness never entered into it."

"What about that cute little slicer of Death's? She is more than she seems."

"She is the exception, though I doubt she has yet realized just why she was so wary of you."

"And you know?"

"Of course I do." It was like some strange conversation between old academy friends, but these men were strangers to each other. I'd have bet the whole gang, and my computers, on that fact. They were so polite and proper, it was almost frightening. "Crash gave me the clues I needed to figure it out."

"Oh?"

"You could have been a Jedi." That shocked me to the bone. Was Jayek Force-sensitive? If true, it explained a great deal about what had happened at the meeting at Heaven.

"No, I think not."

Qui-Gon nodded. "You may be right. Even if you had been found young enough, I think you are too selfish to want to help anyone other than yourself."

Jayek waved that away as unimportant, or at least a matter long past the need for discussion. "Tell me, how does she do it?"

"What, read everyone around her like a datapad? She's Lorrdian."

Jayek lounged back in his chair, one arm draped negligently off the side. "You say that like it should mean something to me."

"Lorrdians are the foremost mimes and mimics in the galaxy." Qui-Gon sounded like a professor lecturing to a particularly stupid student and I had to suppress a snicker when Jayek realized it. "She can read body language like a skyway sign and she's good enough at reading lips that you might as well hand her a printed transcript."

Jolting upright in his chair, Jayek was no longer annoyed or merely angry. He was positively enraged. "So, [i]she's[/i] the one who disrupted the meeting! I could have kept this little war going for years with occasional peace talks taking place. She and Death will pay for ruining that." The venom and hatred in his voice chilled me clear through. I was suddenly very glad that there was a fully trained Knight between him and me.

"Blame no longer matters," Qui-Gon stated. "You are under arrest."

"And if I don't wish to come?"

"I will take you by force if I must."

Jayek didn't hesitate even a second, but brought up the blaster he'd hidden by his side and stroked the trigger even as the barrel came level with Qui-Gon's chest. But the Jedi was already moving, too. He stepped back with his right foot, pivoting on his left heel while his left hand, still holding his helmet, struck at Jayek's weapon.

Once again fear froze me in place. My wide eyes stayed locked, against my will, on the events unfolding before me. The angry red blaster bolt seemed to pass right through Knight Jinn's chest from side to side. I didn't even have time for a horrified gasp before the helmet slammed against the blaster and knocked it from Jayek's grasp.

Jayek moved like lightning and sprang over the desk to tackle Qui- Gon. Both men hit the floor and I couldn't see what was happening. The sudden move had broken the hold of my fear. Biting my lower lip, I wavered for only a moment before scrambling out of my hiding place and running over toward the office window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside. Only steps away, I backpedaled violently, threw myself to the floor, and flung my arms up to protect my eyes as the glass of the window exploded outward with the impact of two large bodies.

"Crash, stay back!" Qui-Gon commanded as the two men rolled apart in the glittering shards and came to their feet. It was Jayek who was closer to me, but he spared only a flashing glance in my direction, clearly not wanting to take his attention off the Jedi.

I scrambled away, heading for my discarded helmet and getting a small cut on my hand when I didn't look where I was putting it. Keeping my eyes locked on the two circling men, I hooked up my datapad and remote keyed Ishtari's helmet comm. I hadn't told anyone yet that I could do that, but that was because I hadn't ever been sure that it would work. It did.

There was nothing to hear, no footsteps, no taps, not a sound.

Tap-tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap. Nothing, there was no response. Again I tapped out the emergency code against my helmet's mic, and again I got nothing in return. I chewed my lip and rocked back and forth, uncertain of what to do. I wasn't a warrior like Ishtari and Nash, I didn't know how I could possibly help. Mason, no Qui-Gon, had lost his jacket and his blaster while I wasn't looking. A cut above his eye was bleeding and he wasn't moving quite as smoothly as usual. Jayek was sneering confidently, only a slight red spot on one cheek to show for Qui- Gon's efforts.

The Fights! For a brief moment despair washed over me. Qui-Gon hadn't healed himself after the fights because no one would have believed that he could have done so naturally, that and we'd had so little time and so much to do since then. Now it was taking its toll. The Jedi was already sore and tired and Jayek was fresh and moving easy.

Qui-Gon ducked a high kick and lanced a punch at the Angel's ribs, but Jayek was up to the challenge and parried the blow away. The Jedi retreated, and his opponent followed eagerly.

"What's the matter, Jedi? Never had to fight someone better than you?" he taunted.

I noticed that Qui-Gon was beginning to breathe heavily and was favoring his left side ever so slightly. Shael had hit him in the ribs there more than once. I prayed that Jayek wouldn't notice. As Jayek began a new offensive, I looked around desperately, my eyes touching everything, but not really seeing. There were no weapons. I couldn't find where the blaster had gone and I hadn't brought one of my own. More fool me.

Qui-Gon slid backwards, always retreating, forcing Jayek to come to him, never going on the attack, and I followed as close as I dared, on the verge of panic. Maybe he was hoping to tire Jayek. Maybe he was hoping that Ishtari and Nash would arrive soon. I don't know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all and not just doing what needed to be done.

The lights flickered once and I glanced around, trembling suddenly with the fear that some of those other men might turn up just now and with the hope that it was Nash and Ishtari that were fiddling with the power and that the flicker might be a warning of their return.

Mas- Qui-Gon was tiring quickly, whatever reserves he was drawing on had to be almost gone, if the slight tremor in the muscles of his neck, chest, and shoulders was to be believed. I whispered fervent prayers to the Force to ward off what I dreaded, but it happened anyway. When Jayek faked my knight out of position and snuck a leg sweep through his defenses, Qui-Gon hit the floor. I gasped in horror, my hands coming up to my face, and I nearly knocked myself silly with my own helmet. Faster than thought, like an instinct that suddenly realized that it was there, I whipped back my arm and when it came forward I flung my helmet at the back of Jayek's head.

"Leave him alone!" I screamed.

It wasn't the brightest thing I could have done. My enraged and frightened shout warned Jayek, turning his head in time to see the projectile hurtling his way. He twisted aside enough that it only clipped him on the shoulder as it passed. My helmet thunked and rattled off furniture behind him and Jayek bent a fiery stare of murderous rage in my direction. Almost negligently he pulled something from the belt at his waist and tossed it in my direction.

It hadn't been much in the way of counterattacks, but it had been enough. Qui-Gon was back on his feet. He held himself loosely, relaxed and I could see that he was what Ishtari had always called centered. On the balls of his feet, weight balanced to perfection, I saw an acceptance and surrender in his face that I'd not seen on any living soul in my life. But I'd seen it in countless holovids of the Lorrdian War. Knight Jinn was sunk deep into the Force.

He threw out a hand and a pressure wave of energy rolled over Jayek and me. Jayek bowed his head and hunched his shoulders and rode it out with bent knees, but I was bowled over by it, knocked thrusters over steering column. I sat up and shook my head, a little grin of anticipation on my face.

Jayek was toast. All that was left for him was the falling down part, only he didn't know it yet. It was then that I noticed the small black sphere that the Angel had tossed my way just a moment before. It sat innocently on the floor barely more than the length of my legs away. Just as I thought to wonder what it was, it fulfilled its function and answered my question.

A flash grenade.

There was a burst of incandescent fire, then all the lights went out.

*******

The concussion from being so close to the thing when it went off must had caused me to black out, because when I came to there were no sounds of fighting, but calm voices talked softly in the dark. I recognized one of them as Sloan's. My head rested on a furry shoulder and a familiar earthy smell filled my nostrils.

"Nash?" I asked uncertainly, searching the black for the glinting of light from her reflective eyes. I couldn't see them. Had night fallen while I was out of it so that there was no light from the windows?

"Hush, Crash, you're safe." Worry and anxiety were there in her rumbling voice, but comfort and reassurance as well.

That was a silly thing for her to say. Of course I was safe. If Jayek had won the fight I wouldn't have woken up, I accepted that as a fact carved in durasteel. And if Qui-Gon Jinn had won the fight how could I be anything but safe? "How's Qui-uh, Mason?"

There was an amused undertone to the feline's voice when she answered. "A little the worse for wear, but if I'm any judge he'll live. Jayek's had the beating of his life, though, and about time, too."

A low chuckle brought the sound of Ishtari's voice to my ears. "Yeah, he got what's coming to him, and he's gonna get more. I got here just in time to watch Mason use Shael's stutter-step on him." The sound of glass crunching underfoot carried her away on some errand, and I frowned in confusion. How was the ex-Jedi moving around so easily in the dark?

I started to struggle upright, but Nashraak's steady hand on my shoulder held me down easily. "What's the matter?"

"Just lay still. Shael and the rest will be here shortly."

"Oh?"

"Ishtari and I called them in as soon as we finished off the goons downstairs and freed Sloan."

"I thought I heard his voice." I blinked a few times, but all I saw was a vague afterimage of that grenade against the darkness. Was that why I couldn't see even a hint of running lights from passing aircars in the windows? Were they blurring together with the afterimage? "Nash, did you and Ishtari cut the power to the building?"

The Trianii answered in a near whisper, "No, Crash."

"Then why are the lights off?" Panic was beating at the doors of my brain, but I couldn't figure out why. I knew something was very wrong, but I had no idea what it might be, or maybe my mind refused to acknowledge what it might be.

"The lights aren't off, Crash. At least, not for the rest of us."

I shook my head violently in denial as the implications of that slowly sank in. "No," I stated, my voice trembling slightly. The world was dark, of course the lights were out, weren't they? "No!"

They had to be. They had to be.

But not for anybody but me.

I screamed. I couldn't help it. I screamed and screamed and not Sloan's worried shouts, or Ishtari's sharp slap, or the strange voice in the background calling for a medic could make me stop. I couldn't see. The world was gone, not just taken away but ripped, drive and exhaust, from my life. I couldn't read a thing about what was going on around me. Not the worry in Sloan's dark eyes, so like his brother's, or the little furrow that appeared on Ishtari's forehead when she couldn't talk or fight her way out of something, not the angle of Nash's ears or the twitch of her tail would ever reveal anything to me again.

And so I screamed as I had never screamed before in my life, the terror mounting higher and higher and threatening to choke me until a large, gentle hand rested briefly on my shoulder and even the sound went away as unconsciousness reclaimed me.

*******

//Better to be dead.// That was my first thought when the sound came back, and I wished that it hadn't. //I'd rather be dead than blind.// My eyes had been covered with some sort of damp bandage, probably soaked in a large amount of our precious bacta supply. //A wasted of good bacta. There's no tissue damage, the photoreceptors have been burned out.// I'd read that somewhere. That was what happened to people who were too close when flash grenades went off. They were blind forever unless they could afford prosthetics. The Horsemen couldn't.

//Better to be dead.//

Always better to be dead and gone than a drain on those around me. That's why I'd left my parents so long ago. I'd been a burden to them, a dangerous drain that had been slowly killing them. I'd rather have died than ever go back to being that sort of useless baggage again. Perhaps if I wandered out into the street and bothered enough people they'd haul me away to the nearest shelter. Or maybe one of the Angels would spot me and risk taking a shot in public. Either way I wouldn't be a problem for the Horsemen anymore.

//Better to be dead.// I was back in Armageddon, I could tell by the way the sounds echoed off the walls, by the sounds themselves, by the smell of oil and exhaust and leather. I was in a bed, my bed, that was obvious from the way the mattress sagged a little, just at my hips. On the other side of the privacy screen around the girls' bunks I could hear triumphant voices, but I couldn't care less what they were saying. We were all safe, and I did care about that, but the rest of it was, well, distant to me just then. Like it hadn't happened to me. What had happened to me was horrible in a way I'd never even thought about.

//Better to be dead.//

I'd never slice again. You can't slice if you can't see your monitor or what's happening on it. I'd never ride again. //You don't even have a swoop to ride, stupid.// But that didn't matter either, because it was still true. I'd never see the love shining in Shael's eyes again, never see that dimple flash at me when he smiled or grinned.

//Better to be dead.//

It was all too much, too overwhelming, and so I cried. I don't know if my eyes actually produced any tears, the moist bandage made it impossible to tell, but my chest heaved as my breath choked out of me and my terrified sobs finally alerted someone that I was awake again.

Strong arms pulled me up against a broad chest. A gentle hand tucked my head under a firm chin and stroked comfortingly at my hair. I snuggled closer to Shael. All his previous fears for me were true now. I'd have to be coddled and protected because I couldn't do anything for myself any more. And I'd never pull another stunt like the one that had gotten me into all of this in the first place. I wanted to curse Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn for doing this to me, but I couldn't. My ancestors had thrown themselves on shrapnel grenades and in front of tanks and blaster bolts to preserve the lives of the Jedi fighting to free them. How could I do any less? Besides, I'd gone into this with my eyes open. I'd chosen this course of action and I wouldn't push away the responsibility for that on anyone else.

"Chenowyth, please, I know it's hard, but please stop crying," Shael begged me. Something wet hit my cheek and slid down to my chin. Startled and worried, I reached up a hand to his face. My fingers crept across his cheek and chin, encountering damp trails and scratchy stubble. He was crying too.

My eyes burned, though I couldn't tell you if it was with fresh tears or fresh pain. Now I was hurting those I loved. I was no good to the gang anymore. I was a drag, a dead weight, now that I couldn't slice or ride. It was only going to get worse from here on out.

"Better to be dead."

"No, Chen, no! Don't say that!"

"It's all my fault, Shael. And now I'm no use to anyone."

"No, Cade told us what happened. If it wasn't for you he'd've lost. That creep would have won and you and him and Sloan would have been as good as dead." Shael crushed me against his chest and rocked me slightly, as if he could force me to change my mind by sheer strength. "And the cops showed up and found him and those pigeons of his and some papers and it's been all over the news all morning, Chen. The war's over and the sector chief gave us some sort of commendation or something." The pride and excitement he used to cover the fear and pain in his voice didn't touch me. I was numb. So no one else I cared for would die in this mess. That was good. I couldn't muster up more feeling than that.

"Chen, say something. Please."

"I'm sorry." I know it came out dead and hollow and empty, but that's how I felt and I couldn't deny it.

"No, please, Chen, don't say that. There's nothing for you to be sorry for!"

"I'm sorry, Shael," I mumbled again as I pushed against his chest and fumbled about for the blankets that had been covering me, "but I just don't have the energy for this right now. Please, just let me rest. I'm tired, just let me rest."

"Chen?" his voice was raw, wounded, pleading, but I couldn't deal with it. Not then. His pain on top of mine was a burden I couldn't hold up under. Besides, he couldn't see the truth and would never listen to what I knew. He'd never agree with me, no matter how much proof I had.

"Please," I begged, "just let me rest."

He eased me gently back into the center of my bed and pulled the blankets up for me. There was a long pause before I heard his footsteps move away from the side of my bunk, leaving me alone in the darkness.

//Better to be dead.//

*******

The next sound that actually managed to push through the fog of misery and despair that I had surrounded myself with was the faint click of claws on permacrete. That meant either Reeabok or Nashraak. I prayed as fervently as I was able that whoever it was would do whatever it was they had come for and leave, silently. I didn't want anyone else to try and tell me that it would be okay. I was blind, wounded, crippled. It wasn't okay, and couldn't be made to be okay.

"Stop being lazy and get out of bed, Crash," a feline voice rumbled irritably. "Go away, Nash," I muttered weakly.

She didn't.

"There are things to be done and you are acting like a child."

I rolled onto my side away from her. "Bite me."

"I may just do that," she responded mildly.

"Go away, Nash," I said more forcefully.

"Roble needs someone to go over the shipment schedule Teletron has sent over for escort strengths and routes."

"Plague and Shael can do that."

"Not as well as you can."

"I can't do anything any more."

"Defecate on that!" Nash snarled, and I pulled the appropriate picture from my memory of her triangular ears flat to her skull, her tail lashing, her neck fur standing on end, and her whiskers quivering. "Even prey serves a purpose, if only to be eaten and strengthen its killer. A lame prey serves as a warning to its fellows if nothing else. You are not useless because you no longer have your eyes. You can keep the triplets out of our fur. You can keep Shael sane. You can tease Death and make him smile again. These are good, important, and useful things."

"Go away, Nash."

"Fine, curl up and die, pigeon."

I staggered up out of my bed before I knew what I was doing. The blankets tangled around my legs as I lunged at the Trianii, mayhem on my mind, and I tripped and fell. Clawing my way free, I scrambled to my feet. I stood panting and furious, straining the darkness around me for any sound that might tell me where my false friend was.

"Say that again, you kriffing fleabag!" I hissed.

"Ah, so there is something that will get you moving still," her mocking voice was behind and above me. She was perched up on her bunk. I spun, almost losing my balance without some visual reference to steady me.

"Wait till I get my hands on you, you-"

"What? I am faster than you and stronger than you and I can see while you cannot. What will you do?"

"I'll think of something," I screamed back at her.

"Then think now, Crash. Think of what you can do for the gang."

I didn't want to listen, I wanted to keep hating her and being mad enough to kill. But my mind was already spinning, working on ways to get around her advantages, and the new thought was hardly a difficult switch. Now I was thinking of ways that I could get around my disadvantages.

So I couldn't slice anymore? I could teach someone else to do the bits I couldn't. Or I could focus on writing better code. Ishtari had obviously used my lockbreakers to good effect while rescuing Sloan. If I wrote things right anyone could use them. With a little practice I was sure I could get around Armageddon without a constant guide. Of course, that meant I would have to always wear shoes to keep from smashing my toes against table legs and chairs.

I stood, one hand on Nash's bunk, my mind whirling with possibilities.

//Better to be dead?// I shook my head. //Maybe not. Maybe I can still be useful.//

"Well?"

"I'm hungry," I grumbled, still unhappy with Nash for calling me a pigeon. "Will you help me find the table?"

*******

Breakfast, maybe it was lunch, I couldn't tell day from night, was ... interesting. Now that I was working on being useful again, I wasn't about to let my friends help me any more than I absolutely had to. I didn't want anyone helping me eat, so I'd asked for soup. I didn't always get the spoon right into my mouth, but I refused to let anyone coddle me. I had to learn to do it for myself. The conversation was stilted and forced to begin with, but when I joined in between soup dribbles it picked up a bit.

"It was all over the news, Crash," Phyl was saying. "He was taking money from CoruCorp to make the gangs fight to keep Teletron from shipping that new thingy they're makin'"

I nodded absently and actually got an entire spoonful into my mouth without spilling half of it down my front or the side of my face. I was going to need a shower and a change of clothes when I was done. I sighed at the thought of how difficult that particular chore was going to be and resigned myself to asking Ishtari for a little help.

"So, where's Mason at?" I asked casually. He was the only one who hadn't stopped by the table to ask me how I was feeling. I was feeling like something the bantha had trampled, but I told everyone who stopped by and asked that I was fine.

"Dunno, haven't seen him," Bil answered before the others had a chance.

"He said he needed to go see a friend of his," Shael explained. "He's been gone since yesterday night. He left right after we all got back from picking up Sloan."

I nodded again. Looking back it was easy to see that the sector cops had probably asked for help from the Jedi Temple when they couldn't keep any of their agents in the gangs alive for more than a week. Someone in the Temple had probably had a 'feeling' about the request, and with that Knight Jinn was on his way.

Now he was gone, home to the Temple, and it wasn't likely he'd be back. After all, his job was done, mission over, nothing left but writing the report. Then I wondered briefly if Jedi even wrote reports. The holos claimed they all went straight to the Council to report in person, but I happened to know that there were thousands of Jedi in the galaxy and there just wouldn't be time for that sort of nonsense. I used the absurdity of the Council notion to distract myself from the fact that he was gone. Mason was gone, forever, had been since we walked into that third-floor office the day before. And I would never see the Jedi who had taken his place ever again. Literally.

Ishtari was willing enough to help me clean myself up and get dressed. I was never so glad for the simplicity of sweat pants and tunics before. As long as I could find the tags I could figure out which way they went on. I wouldn't be wearing anything fashionable or complicated in the near future, but that was just fine with me. Fashionable usually meant the same thing as uncomfortable.

Ishtari sat me down at a table and combed and braided my hair for me. And then I sat. The ex-Jedi had her ride to look after and her chores around the house as did everyone else. And so I sat and thought since I could no longer really sit and stare. I mentally ran through pictures of each and every single Horseman. I promised myself to review those pictures each and every day. I didn't ever want to forget how any of them looked. And when that was done I stared, or didn't stare, some more. I found I had wrapped my arms around myself, my hands chafing at my shoulders and upper arms, and forced myself to stop before someone came over and asked if I was cold.

It wouldn't stop with just one question. Next there'd be can I get you anything, are you hungry, or what else can I do for you, Crash? Do you want me to get Shael, or Roble, or Doc, or whoever else it was they might think I needed to make me feel better. There was nothing that I needed now, except something to keep my mind busy and I could do that all by myself.

//Yeah, by going over all the things you can't do any more, again. That won't help.// I tried to go over my best lockbreaker line by line, to see if there was something I could do to make it faster, tighter, but my mind kept straying.

//I know he's probably already got another mission, but it'd be nice to know he hasn't just abandoned me.//

I wasn't in love with Qui-Gon Jinn. I wasn't even in love with Mason Cade, but I did have feelings for him. He'd become my private Jedi, my personal white knight. And then he was gone, as suddenly as my sight, and almost as jarring to my life. He'd become a welcome addition to my family, and now he was gone back to his own.

Warm arms sliding around me jolted me out of my thoughts with a shocking suddenness. "Deci-cred for your thoughts?" Shael offered.

"Make noise next time. You just about gave me a heart attack," I groused with mock testiness even as I settled back into his embrace.

He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot behind my ear and I squirmed a bit in reaction. "Sorry. Forgive me?"

"Mmm, when you apologize like that ... okay."

"So, what were you thinking?"

"That there's not a lot that I can do just now. I suppose that I could try teaching someone to slice for the gang, Sloan might be a good candidate, or Pors Zhanae." I leaned my head back against his shoulder, thinking out loud. "I think that I need something to keep me occupied or I'm going to go stark raving bonkers."

Shael nodded, the movement transmitted to me by the touch of his cheek to mine. "I'll see if I can't find something that you and the triplets can do together."

"Shael, that's not funny. They'd only speed the process up," I protested.

His low, throaty laugh cheered me immensely, releasing one of the many bands of pain that were wrapped tightly around my heart. It'd had been far too long since I'd heard it. "Then I'll just have to see if I can't find a way to keep you busy." There was a long pause, like he'd been planning to say something, but wasn't sure now if he should.

"And?" I prompted.

"Cade's back. He brought a friend."

"And?" I said teasingly, though I was secretly very pleased that my Jedi had come back, even if it was only to say good-bye.

"She's a healer and she thinks she might be able to help your eyes."

I sat up suddenly, bonking Shael's chin with my shoulder. "Can she really?"

"We'll have to see, she said not to get your hopes up."

"Fine, fine, just get her over here."

Shael must have waved or something because soon there were footsteps headed our way.

"Mason?" I asked hesitantly, when they stopped.

"I'm here, Crash."

"Who have you brought with you?" Shael turned my chair for me so that I could face my Jedi and his friend, then he crouched by my side and held my hand.

"Orleiah is a healer. She's dealt with flash burns in the past and she might be able to help you a little."

"Mason told me what you have done to help him, Crash, and I decided that the least I could do was try to help you in return." I tilted my head toward the female voice I was hearing, but I couldn't tell a thing about her. Was she short? Tall? Thick, thin, soft, muscled, calm, or fidgety? I couldn't tell.

"Crash?" Shael asked me.

Shrugging, I sat back in my chair. "I don't see what it can hurt. I can't get any blinder, and she might really be able to help."

Doc, who must have been lurking quietly off to one side, spoke up. "Would you like to use my office?"

"That would be appreciated," the healer replied.

A small hand took mine and I stood and shuffled forward. Instead of just leading me by the hand, she placed my hand on her shoulder and walked slowly away. I could feel her height and general musculature now, and though she was shorter than Ishtari (but still taller than me) and not as hard of muscle, they both moved with the same flowing smoothness. Another Jedi then.

Several sets of footsteps fell in behind me as we moved, but when the change in sound told me that we had entered a smaller area, the door closed and cut off most of the footsteps. The woman leading me stopped and put my hand on a chair. I carefully felt my way into it and sat.

"You're actually doing very well for someone so recently blinded," Orleiah remarked.

"Blind determination and bantha-headed stubbornness can be assets on occasion," I joked. I continued more seriously, "I've been independent too long to want to change now."

"Well, we'll see what we can do to help you there."

"Are you going to use the Force?" I asked curiously.

There was a momentary surprised silence. "Qui-Gon said you were quick and observant, but I guess I wasn't really convinced."

"Not convinced, or certain that my lack of eye-sight might have impaired me?"

"You're better at this than he knows, aren't you?" she asked with mock accusation.

Laughing, I replied, "Qui-Gon's not the first Jedi I've met. And I'm getting better at spotting you guys all the time."

She must have nodded, then remembered that I couldn't see it, 'cuz it took her a little bit to respond. "I see. Well, let's see what we've got here."

I held still while she quickly removed the bandages from my eyes. My eyelids were lifted one at a time, though I saw not a single speck of light in the darkness that had become my world. Orleiah hummed to herself as she worked, doing whatever she was doing. I didn't hear any instruments being used, but then I wasn't really all that familiar with medical stuff. I was a slicer, not a healer.

"There's good news and there's bad news, Crash," she said finally.

I nodded, steeling myself to hear what I'd feared, that this was the way it was going to be until the end. "The bad news?"

"This is going to hurt, probably a lot."

"And?" Jedi were sure confusing when they wanted to be.

"And the good news is that I'll have you seeing again in about a week."

"Wait, what was the bad news then?"

"You think pain is good news?" Orleiah asked, disbelievingly.

I snorted. "Pain means you're still alive."

"Kind of a dreary outlook on life."

"But practical."

*******

She was right, it did hurt, a whole lot. I'd say it felt like someone was sticking white-hot needles in my eyes, but since I've never felt that I'm not certain if it's a dire enough description of what was going on. The fingers pressed to my temples were gentle, warm, the voice that spoke reassurances to me was calm, low, soft, but the pain in my head, behind and in my eyes, was horrible.

Orleiah tried to explain to me what she was doing. She mentioned something about healing nerves endings, splicing sheaths, and realigning something or other. I didn't understand and didn't care. As long as she knew what she was doing it didn't matter if I didn't.

In the mornings I shuffled about Armageddon, bumping into things, spilling food down my front, wearing a bib at every meal, and being as unapologetic as possible when I ran into or over someone while moving about. I was also as rude and indignant as possible whenever someone suggested that I should let them lead me, or that things I wanted should come to me instead of the other way around. Afternoons I sat at my computer and Pors Zhanae read me my programs one line of code at a time. He was coming along nicely, learning as quickly as I could explain the need and reason for each section, line, or word of code. He was going to be able to take over for me in no time at all, and I was just as glad. I guess life is a lot like computers that way. Redundancy is rarely a bad thing.

That was how I spent my days, shuffling and teaching. And every evening Shael and Sloan would come and lead me to Doc's office where Orleiah would be waiting for our next torture session. Afterward Shael would carry me back to my bunk and hold my hand while I lay gasping in the dark, praying that the lingering memory of the pain would fade quickly and that I would sleep.

Here and there I could feel eyes on me. Worried eyes, concerned eyes, and hopeless eyes as well. But the ones that I didn't mind were the approving eyes. At least once a day I would feel those eyes staring at me, and then I would hear a low rumbling purr as Nashraak prowled by. She approved of what I was doing; trying, teaching, even though there was hope that I would see again.

*******

When it was over and I blinkingly opened my eyes at the end of the week, the first thing I saw was a blurry, concerned expression on Shael's face. I blinked a few more times and my eyes finally focused properly. My smile brought an immediate response in kind. I turned and scanned the room for the woman who had given me back my sight and when I laid eyes on her I saw that the only thing she had in common with Ishtari was her early training and physical fitness.

Orleiah was almost petite, dark of hair, skin, and eye, and as I watched her watching me I was pleased to see who Qui-G-Mason had picked as my healer. She was Lorrdian.

*How can I thank you?*

Smiling, Orleiah shook her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I never learned the hand talk. My parents joyfully gave me up for training before my third month of life. But I do understand how great was your need to see again."

Mason, I would always think of him as Mason from then on, stepped forward to wrap me in a strong hug. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Shael frown, but that's all he did, so I smiled. After a moment, Mason released me and stepped back. Roble hugged me next, then it was rounds of handshakes for Orleiah and all the profuse thanks he and Shael and Sloan could pile on.

Orleiah accepted the thanks graciously, but with humility, something that would never have occurred to me to do, and then she packed up her few belongings in her small bag.

"And now I must go back home," she said, and glanced pointedly at Mason.

He nodded. "I, too, must go."

All the other men shared a slightly confused look. "Go?" Roble asked.

"Yes, I never stay anywhere for very long," Mason explained. "I've stayed here about as long as I can."

"I thought you were looking for a gang to settle down with?" Shael was mystified.

"I was looking for a safe place to stay for a while. The Horsemen seemed like my best bet," Mason corrected, lying through his teeth with admirable ease. We all had a good laugh at his words, though. The last couple of weeks had been anything but calm and safe.

"Well, we'd have given you your jacket in another couple of days, complete with a solemn ceremony and an all-night drinking binge." Roble shrugged. "You can still have it, if you like."

Mason shook his head. "Thanks, but no."

Roble shrugged again and all the men looked awkward. I rolled my eyes. //Men!// So I stood and hugged first Orleiah, then Mason. "They aren't going to say it, so I will. We'll miss you."

"We're men, we don't do that sort of thing," Sloan tossed off casually, but he stepped up and shook Mason's hand and thumped him soundly on the back.

Roble shot a look at me before grinning at Mason. "He's right you know, we don't do that sort of thing. And don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

When all the handshaking and thanking again was finished, we filed slowly out of Doc's office. Roble led Orleiah across the floor to where Mason's swoop was sitting. I stopped just outside the doorway and Shael stopped beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. Mason paused, looking me right in the eyes. After a long moment, we both smiled. He dropped a brotherly hand on the top of my head, let it slide slowly down the side of my face to my shoulder, and then gave me a gentle squeeze.

"I'll see you when I see you, Crash." I could read so much more than that from the tension in his muscles, the pressure of his hand, the expression in his eyes.

"See ya when I see ya."

And then my Jedi walked away and never looked back. The Angels survive and Velocity is still in charge, though she makes a whole lot less trouble now. The Horsemen still thrive, and I now wear Shael's ring. And not a day goes by but I thank the Jedi, not just for my ancestors, but for myself as well.