Jorge found Alina sitting on one of the wooden benches in the garden, looking down at her feet. He sat down beside her, pant leg brushing against the deep blue skirt of her gown that she'd changed into after shucking the blood-stained brown outfit from before. She didn't say anything for several long moments, simply rested her head on his shoulder. "I feel like it's my fault," she finally whispered.

His arm came around her shoulders to pres her head closer to him. "It's not," he reassured her. "You could barely even walk when most of his injuries occurred."

"But I still could have done something," she protested. "He saved my life."

"You thought he was dead, Alina," Jorge pointed out. "There was nothing you could have done."

She sighed, turning her head and rubbing her noise lightly against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she eventually said.

"For what?" he sounded amused.

"For having a self-pity fest and running off without telling anyone," she replied honestly.

He was silent for a long moment, then sighed. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Alina. You're human; you're not perfect. You will always make mistakes. It's actually rather reassuring, you know."

"Reassuring?" Alina couldn't make up her mind what she felt at his words.

He dipped his head to press a light kiss to her lips. "It's reassuring to know that the woman I love isn't completely perfect; I'd feel pretty inferior in comparison."

Her heart stopped, then started pounding again at about a trillion kilometers per second at his words. "You love me," she stuttered.

He nodded, a look of uncertainty darkening his green eyes.

A million feelings roared through her at his gesture, but her outward silence convinced Jorge that she didn't return his feelings. "It's not supposed to pressure you or anything; I just wanted you to-"

She cut him off by placing a light finger on top of his lips. "Has anyone told you that you talk way too much?" She shifted her body so that her lips were mere centimeters from his, their breath intermingling in a warm gust of air. "I love you too," she whispered before pressing her mouth to his.

Jorge's green eyes darkened with emotion as his lips crushed hers, arms locking her in the middle of a storm of emotion. She fisted her hands in his hair in a desperate attempt to hold fast.

A discreet cough interrupted their embrace far too soon. The two jerked apart, flushing bright red as Wiltive grinned at them. "Jasken just woke up," he informed them.

At his words, Jorge gave Alina a little nudge. "Go see your friend," he told her, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She turned to catch her lips with her, before pulling back and quietly telling him, "Thank you." She disappeared inside the house with a quick smile over her shoulder.

In the doorway to the room, Alina paused. Jasken looked awful, his face blending in with the crisp white sheets, marred by angry red scratches and a rainbow of bruises along his face and shoulders, visible above the coverlet. Its dark green color made him look even paler. His brown eyes looked exhausted. "Hey," she called softly.

His head tilted to look at her. "Hey yourself," he returned weakly, so quietly she could barely hear him, as he shifted on the bed. This is so stupid, Alina thought to herself as she matched over to his cot and sat down on the edge of it. She chatted about nonsensical matters, determined to take her friend's mind of his injuries and the horrors of the last couple of months, and he interjected his own thoughts occasionally.

Felja shooed her out after fifteen minutes, when Jasken began coughing furiously. The blonde woman pulled her aside once she'd left the room. "I'm worried about Jasken," she began abruptly.

"Why? What's the matter?" the brunette asked, alarm growing.

"He's too weak for my liking," the blonde informed her. "I'm afraid that an infection or a fever will kill him, especially if that blaster would doesn't heal quickly," she worried.

The peace Alina had found earlier disappeared, its substitute worry for Jasken. Instead of becoming stronger, he appeared to be getting weaker and weaker as the days went by. And then the night came when Felja roused her from her sleep, a little after midnight. "Alina!" the blonde woman shook the Jedi's shoulder. "Alina, you've got to wake up now."

The brunette woman simply moaned and buried her face deeper into Jorge's shoulder. "Dammit," the blonde sighed, before pinching Alina's earlobe.

The Jedi woke up immediately, a grouchy look on her face. "What?" she demanded irritably.

"Jasken's got a forty-one degree fever," the woman replied urgently. "If he gets much hotter, he'll end baking his own internal organs." Alina slipped out of bed at once and began pulling on some clothes. Jorge rolled over in bed, taking up the space she had just vacated.

When they got out into the lit corridor, Felja began to snicker at the Jedi's choice in wardrobe. She was wearing a bright lime green skirt, and a yellow, red, and blue monogrammed shirt that was obviously Jorge's: it fell to the middle of her thighs and the short sleeves reached past her elbows. Alina looked down at her clothes, then grinned wryly. "I guess I dressed in the dark, huh?"

The blonde snorted as they hurried down the hallway. Inside Jasken's room, Monelle was seated in front of a bank of monitors. Malen was handing her a cup of caf as the other two women entered. "Alina, Felja," the black-haired woman acknowledged.

"How bad is it?" Alina asked, afraid to know the answer. Her fear was justified. As she listened to Monelle's terse run-through of Jasken's condition, her heart sank. His injuries were much worse than they'd originally believed, and now his body was acting as a microwave.

Would a healing trance work? she wondered, chewing on her bottom lip. She had no idea if she could even handle it- the few times she'd attempted it, she'd been left incredibly weakened. She realized that she'd already made her decision: she owed Jasken her life. More than that, he was her friend. The voices of the other people in the room faded to meaningless buzz as she placed a cool hand on his forehead, opening her mind up to the Force.

She found herself in a gray landscape, completely deserted by any sort of visible human light. Frowning, she concentrated on seeking out Jasken's life force, finally finding in a tiny stone amphitheater. Jasken? she called.

Startled, his gray life force turned. Alina? Is that you? Force, even his mind-voice was weak. Alina, what are you doing here? he cried, backing away from her.

Jasken, what's the matter with you? she asked, confused. Why are we here? Here had changed, to a dark land full of ominous shadows and a overwhelming feeling of pain. Instead of glowing golden to her, Jasken was gray, barely showing, instead blending in with the dreary landscape.

It's my time, Alina, he told her sadly. You shouldn't be here. Go back, he ordered firmly.

Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed a hold of his pale hand. She gasped as pain blackened her vision. Someone began screaming, and she wished that she could join in. Seconds later, she'd been shoved away, and after a long minute, she was able to see again. If possible, Jasken was even paler. Get out of here! he shouted.

I'm not leaving you! she shouted right back, grabbing hold of his arm and gritting her teeth against the pain.

You don't have a choice, he shot back. Quieter, he added, I'm dying.

His words broke her concentration and she lost her grip. Jasken began fading away into nothingness as Alina screamed in denial. And then her body was being tossed around like a broken doll, cruelly buffeted by harsh winds sweeping across the kaleidoscope-like landscape.

As Alina fell away from Jasken's body, Malen and Felja rushed forward to catch her before she struck the ground. Monelle took a step and pressed two fingers to the pulse spot on Jasken's neck. There was nothing. "No pulse," she announced with a somber air to the recorder before hurrying to help the others.

The unconscious Jedi was limp as they lifted and then lowered her to a second bed, but occasionally she thrashed around, making their job that much harder. Finally, they got her to lie on the bed, her head cushioned by a pillow. "Go get Jorge," Felja ordered.

Malen nodded at Monelle, and the black-haired woman heaved a mock sign before walking out of the room. At the door to the room Jorge and Alina had begun sharing, she rapped her knuckles hard on it.

Several long moments later, Jorge opened the door, shirtless and bleary-eyed. Monelle fought back a blush as she rapidly informed him, "You're wanted in the infirmary."

"Where's Alina?" he demanded in answer.

"She's ther," Monelle responded. At her words, Jorge shot down the hallway, leaving her in his doorway with a flabbergasted expression on her face.

He stopped short in the doorway of the room that had been designated as the infirmary at the sight of the woman he loved resting on one of the beds. It was too much like the last time she'd been in here, barely able to walk. "What happened?" he demanded hoarsely.

"We don't know," Felja answered honestly. "All we know is that she is unconscious," she hesitated, "and in a lot of pain."

Jorge sat there, at her bedside, for several hours, his eyes glued to her face, waiting for something, any sort of sign to indicate that she was okay. When her eyelids finally fluttered open, he felt a feeling of relief unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. "Hey, sleepyhead," he greated.

"Hey yourself," she retorted weakly, struggling to sit up in bed.

"Glad to see you're awake Alina," Felja exclaimed as she bustled over. "No, don't sit up. You gave us quite a scare you know."

"Sorry about that."

"Can you tell me what happened?" the blonde woman asked.

Alina sighed, but slowly recounted what she'd experienced, at every moment aware of the recorder resting on the bed next to her. When she reached the point where she'd been ripped free from Jasken, Jorge placed a comforting arm about her shoulders.

When she finally finished, nobody moved for a long moment. Eventually, Felja got to her feet. "I'm just going to check you for any injuries, and if you're clear, you're free to go," she informed the Jedi. The black medical scanner produced no problems. "Get some rest and you'll be back to normal," the blonde informed her. "Now get out of here."

Jorge promptly slid his arms under her knees and around her shoulders, cradling her in his arms. Felja's jaw dropped, but then he sent a slow wink in her direction and she grinned. "Have fun!" she called cheekily as he strode out of the room.

Alina was too much in shock for the first thirty seconds of the journey to do anything besides gape at Jorge. However, she finally got her voice back. "Jorge! Put me down! I'm not an invalid, you know!"

"No." There was not a single centimeter of compromise in his voice.

She couldn't believe it. "What? Why not?" she demanded.

He didn't answer as he stepped into their room. He lay down on the bed, keeping a tight hold on her, then released her legs and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "You always seem to get in trouble if I don't have my arms around you." He shrugged. "So the solution is not to let you go."

Alina chuckled. "I suppose that makes sense," she told him. "Although, next time, I'd appreciate more advance notice."

He joined her in laughing. "I suppose I can give you that," he teased.

They lay on the bed in comfortable silence for a while, simply breathing, thinking, and holding each other. A tear slipped down her cheek as she began to cry, and he drew her tighter into his arms. "It's okay, sweetheart, cry it all out," he murmured, stroking her hair and back. "Just cry it all out."

Gradually, her tears stopped, gradually transforming into hiccups, and still he held her. "What's going to happen next, do you wonder?" she asked, once her hiccups had finally ended and her tears had dried.

He shifted a little closer. "Dad is planning to have a Corellian-style funeral for Jasken, later this week," he told her. "We figured that it was the best sort of tribute we could give him, given the situation."

"And Vader?" she reminded.

Jorge sighed. "Here's where it gets complicated. Vader knows that a Jedi-friendly faction broke Jasken out of that prison. He's distracted right now- apparently there has been rebellion on the outer rim, and he went out to deal with it personally. But there's a chance he could come back and search for us."

She looked up to lock gazes with him. "What are you saying?" she asked hesitantly.

"Wil is purchasing us tickets to Mon Calamari, to start a new life there," he told her. "We'd leave after the funeral." When she was silent in response, he felt his heart race. "Do you not like it?"

"Us?" she finally asked.

Jorge's heart stopped, then began to sink. "Do you not want me to come with you?" he asked carefully.

Alina shook her head furiously. "No, I'm just-" she hesitated. "How could you leave all this behind?" she finally asked. "If we left, it would be exceedingly difficult to ever come back."

He too hesitated, then told her, "I won't deny it- it will be hard. But it's worth it, if I have you. I love you, Alina. I've never said that to any woman beside my mother before you."

Her arms tightened around him, pulling him closer. "I love you too," she whispered as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "And I think that your plan is a good one."

The fire crackled, engulfing the body on the funeral pyre, and lighting up the darkening sky. Little more than a dozen people watched the blaze, each lost in their own thoughts. Alina took comfort in Jorge's arm about her. I'm sorry I failed you, Jasken, her mind whispered. May you finally have eternal peace.

No verbal words were spoken, but as the flames died down, leaving only ashes that the wind soon carried away, people began peeling off, returning to their own lives. Only five remained in the end.

"So this is it, son," Malen said, embracing the brown haired man, with a smile at the petite woman standing beside him. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks, Dad," Jorge replied, returning the embrace. The two men held each other, then thumped each other on the back and let go. Jorge quickly found himself in his brother's rib-cracking hug.

"You'd better take care of Alina," Wil warned. "She's the best thing that ever happened to you."

Jorge looked over at where she was hugging his father. "I know," he returned. "And I will."

Alina hugged Malen quickly. "Thanks for everything you've done," she told the older man warmly. "You've been wonderful."

"No, thank you," Malen corrected. "It's been an excellent experience." He squeezed her one more time, then let her go, saying, "Take care of that son of mine, 'kay?"

"Okay." And then she was pulled off the ground as Wil grabbed her from behind. "Wil, put me down," she immediately ordered, fighting back a laugh.

He held her for another second before doing so. "I told my idiot brother this, but you're the best thing that ever happened to him. Don't let him forget that," he teased.

"Making moves on my girl already?" Jorge called as he hugged Felja.

"I figured it was only fair," Wil retorted, "since your making on the moves on mine."

Jorge laughed. "Ah, but you know you have nothing to worry about: her heart is firmly yours, brother."

"Neither do you, big guy," Alina reminded him firmly. She gave Wil one last squeeze. "We should probably get going. Don't want to miss our shuttle."

Felja reached out and embraced the former Jedi. "Our doors are always open," she informed the younger woman. "You know the comm number, right?" The brunette nodded. "Call and give us your new address so I can send you the holos when I get them developed."

"Thank you, Felja," Alina replied warmly. "For everything."

"And thank you."

At the blonde's words, Jorge hooked an arm around Alina's waist. "We'll talk to you all later," he promised before leading her to the waiting hovercar. The Dalebys waved as he drove away.

At the spaceport, they found their shuttle with ease. "Fleetwings?" Jorge asked the man standing in front.

"Yes, it is," he replied. "I'm one of the pilots. Are you passengers?"

Alina nodded as Jorge replied, "Mr. and Mrs. Jorge Daleby."

The pilot checked his datapad. "Yes, you're on the passenger list. Welcome aboard."