What will I say to her? What do you say to a savior of the galaxy? What do you say to someone who spared you from an old witch? Atton wondered as his boots gathered Coruscant dust. His brown robes were frayed a bit, but he still liked them the best out of all the robes the team had collected, looted, bought, or stolen over their travels. His were from the palace on Onderon. He got them from Aneela as a gift for staying on the ship to keep the engines primed to leave. They were brown, and she said they were old and treasured. Treasured or not, Atton thought, they must be so comfy. Those customary robes that I had before were so ugly. Besides, Mical wears the same kind…

He cringed. Mical… the sprout of all his anger towards other. Atton had two kinds of anger—towards others and himself. Most of it was towards him, but ever since Nar Shadda and his I-Want-To-Die moment came, he felt a bit better. He felt remorse and regret everyday for what his past was, but he couldn't help it. So he took the advice of his father, a man he'd only known for about twelve years before he left to help the Republic in the Mandalorian Wars.

He remembered his father telling him one day while they were on a big trip to Tatooine. It was the cheapest shuttle, and Atton was eager to travel anywhere. His parents scraped together some money when he was ten years old to take him to Tatooine. His mother stayed home with his siblings, a brother and a sister.

His father was sitting on a sand dune with a blaster rifle in his hand; he was eyeing a gigantic wraid. "Here, Atton," his father said, handing him a blaster pistol. "Huh?" the young Rand asked shocked. His father just handed him a gun! "Don't worry, you won't shoot yourself," he said encouraging Atton to take the pistol. "But… it's just a wraid!" he cried. "We're gonna kill it?"

I still had a heart back then, Atton thought sorrowfully, but continued on with the memory.

His father nodded. "The wraid plate'll get us all the way back home, and maybe we can take the entire family someplace better," his father said. "Really? You mean Mom, Lyza, and Hooluan can come too?" Atton asked eagerly. His father grinned and nodded again. "Let's go get it!" Atton grinned impatiently; he and his father got up and Atton fervently ran up to the wraid, shooting the blaster pistol as much as it would possibly go. His father told him to stay at least twenty meters from it, and he did. He ran about, thinking of the happy memories his family would have on another vacation. He figured that if this was what just having his father was like then having his whole family would be so surreal.

His thoughts and involuntarily walking and dodging of people was interrupted when he heard someone running in his direction and yelling, "Atton!" To his relief, it wasn't Mical—it was Bao-Dur. He stopped walking and spun round.

"Can we walk together?" he asked. "I'm actually getting tired of those machines no matter how 'perfect' they claim to be. They've started arguing who is more superior. I've ran ahead; they can still sense me. Doesn't really matter. Where were you?"

In the distance behind them, it could be heard soft droid voices:

"Correcting Statement: But I am more superior for my photoreceptors are more upgradeable, and I do not kill my master or attempt to—with some exceptions to my previous masters."

"May I correct you, assassin unit, that I come cleaner than dirt?"

"Agonized Statement: Oh but you, fat one, are just a floating sphere while I am a fully functional assassin unit—capable of taking down any kind of organic meatbag and translating over 1,000 different languages."

"But I came with all my essential parts."

"Statement: But I am still better—I have many new, ugly, and grey versions of me across the galaxy.

"Corrective Statement: I do not support the new versions of me. Why be grey when you could be dirt red to blend with surroundings?"

I'm getting a bit tired of those droids, Atton thought as the T3-M4 unit came up and started moving beside them. Then the Remote came floating behind Bao-Dur. "Some are tolerable," he said. "Maybe we should just leave the other two to themselves in confinement?" "No arguments here," Atton said.

"Excuse me," said a voice. Atton turned. Great… he thought. Do I need a holier-than-thou Jedi figure? "May I join you as I go back to the Ebon Hawk?" Atton opened his mouth, but Bao-Dur quickly cut in, "Sure" to keep the peace, and he made it his duty to stand between the two just to make sure they kept apart and civil in words in actions.

The group proceeded to the Republic office and made their way to the docking stations. They proceeded onto Deck 16 where the Hawk was being held; the Coruscant skyline was behind the ship in the setting sun.

Visas and Mandalore had beaten the group there and were talking with Mira and Aneela. Visas was laughing and Mandalore seemed to have softened up and had become wiser; it seemed he had gotten closure. Mira's face was lit up with a smile and Aneela was talking and laughing; they were cherishing the moments that they were in each other's presence, for they all knew it would not last. And, like the clichéd slogan for Juma Juice had been for five years, "Savoring the moment".

For some reason, Bao-Dur, Atton, Mical, and the droids just stopped and stared at the group.

Bao-Dur looked at the General and thought that this was the happiest he'd ever seen her; he wanted to sit down with her and reminisce about good times—not the war—over some Juma. He regarded her as one of his best friends, and he knew their goodbye would be hard. He was returning to Iridonia and would need to leave Coruscant eventually, for home always had its calling, he believed.

Mical looked at Aneela and was filled with admiration, respect, and warmth. But the ways of the Jedi, he told himself. He felt like he needed to be human, and his duty to the Jedi could be carried out. He knew he couldn't help but love her. From the moment he bowed to her on Dantooine, from seeing her face and robes stinking of dead laigreks, he knew he loved her. Even seeing her here now, he knew he loved her. He couldn't explain it to anybody—his mother, a stranger, or even a journal if ever presented with one. He would always stare in admiration and in love, but he would never stand in her presence ogling her. This was another vow he made.

I must help her in whatever way I can, he told himself. For her road maybe be just beginning or it maybe be finished. She may wish to settle down or start searching for answers, for anything. At this, he vowed to be there to console her whenever he could, to protect her from whatever hurt or harmed her in any kind of way. This was the only thing he could do: try to protect her. He could also be her solace, an outlet from everything. He wished that he could be her strength and do anything she asked. He looked to his left to see Atton looking at the ground.

Oh Atton Rand… what are you going to do? he asked himself. He remembered the wraid plate memory and thought of her thinking of him as a pansy or swooning over it. He guessed the former, since the only connection between them had been when she awakened him. She put her hands on his head and whispered every word; his eyes were closed but he could almost see her in his mind's eyes whispering the words to awaken the Force in him once again.

He tried to glimpse into her eyes, into her inner-self but it never worked. He only knew how to shield his mind, not read others. He wanted her to look at him, but he couldn't look at her. He stared at the ground. What would she think if you told her? he thought. He pictured how it would go:

"I think I love you," he would confess.

"You? And me?" she would ask, taken aback.

"Yes…" He would console her.

"You loved that woman who tried to save you! You killed her! You think I will ever love you?" She would be angry and scream at him.

He would be silent.

"Keep away from me, Atton Rand. Even though Kreia is my enemy, I believe what she said about you on Peragus—you're useful." She'd stare directly at him in the eyes. "Now you're useless."

Then he would walk away, dying inside.

The situation played in his head like an addictive holovid scene. I can't tell her, he thought. If I care anything for her, I'll just let her go. What can I give her other than a headache? Mical can… He realized then what he was truly thinking. He was realizing that Mical was the right one for her. Let go… his mind told him. He tried to resist, but Pazaak couldn't shut out his own mind. He replied without defiance, It is right.

Visas, Mandalore, Mira, and Aneela were reminiscing about the different times the crew had on the Ebon Hawk. They avoided talk of the future, but not of the past. Mira and Mandalore had the most stories to share since they were always in the main hold. But Visas was the one telling the story of how she went to see how much time was left in the journey. She said that when she went back to the dormitory to meditate, she caught Mical in the medbay reading a book that he snapped shut immediately when she walked by. She then read his thoughts for her own "purposes" and found out he was reading a book for female Twi'leks and male Twi'lek mating rituals. At this, the group erupted in laughter.

Then Mira looked up to see the motley crew of two humans, an Iridonian, and four droids sitting and floating at the doorway of the airlock. She smiled and waved at them and said to Aneela, "They're here." At this, Aneela spun round and grinned. She waved blissfully at the group.

They did a quick walk towards each other and met in the middle of the landing bay. Aneela was crying out of joy by now, for she was so happy to see her crewmates and friends again.

She went up to Bao-Dur and gave him a hug. He smiled and said, "Good to have you back, General." The words slurred out to Aneela. "Good to have you back…" echoed in her mind. I am back, baby! she said. Whoa! Did I just say "baby"! I bet that doctor gave me spice… She disregarded the peculiarity of her choice of words and went to Mical.

The blonde doctor looked like he had been reading again: his eyes were a bit bloodshot and his fingers were covered in paper cuts. She put her arms around him. "Glad you're feeling better," he said. "We were all worried." Psh, right. Atton thought. I bet he was too busy burying his head in books to even notice she was unconscious. He then remembered his conversation with himself, and thought of himself at first delusional, but then remembered that he was going to let or go—or was it try to let her go? And Atton Rand did what he always did: ignore his mind.

Aneela then moved to Atton and smiled at him. Stay…vigilant… his mind told him. Screw you,he told it. Ignoring it, he hugged Aneela and said, "It's great to see that you're okay." It was covered with sincerity, and he would think her to be deaf if she didn't get its honesty.

Wow, she thought, Has he matured? She questioned whether or not to say that aloud, but she knew that rhetorical questions and sarcasm didn't fit this moment. Instead she hugged him a little tighter, and then let go.

She stared at the guys and remembered what Kreia had said about Mical:

"He cannot help but love you, in his way. It is a pure, ideal love he holds, strengthened by your presence and your actions."

Then Aneela became scared. She was surrounded by friends, and some that loved her more. For Mandalore, he was her companion, and that was all. For Bao-Dur, she was just the General. She knew he could never love her, for she tortured herself during the Wars and if they ever were together, they would look upon each other and see only the War. She scanned Mical.

She knew he loved her. She was afraid of this. He was princely, but a bit like an obsessive follower. He was always trying to comfort her; he immersed her in placate conversations and serene mediations. She knew the entire time, but she did not when it had originated. Perhaps when they met? She didn't know or care. She only knew of the present.

Her eyes scanned Atton over too. He was wearing those Ossus Keeper Robes from the palace when she'd led an assault on Vaklu's troops. They were fringing and were ill-fitted; he didn't know how to tie them right. She knew he felt for her too. From their conversations, she was more understanding. But she didn't want to analyze them. Besides, she was supposed to be a Jedi and was supposed to be beyond this—like everyone else on the ship, save Mandalore and the droids.

Amid her thoughts, she realized Atton, Mical, Mira, Bao-Dur, and Visas had formed a circle round her. Mandalore stood aside, it was if he knew these moments always came back to haunt you after all the crew had parted. It then hit her that all of them were her Padawans. She had trained each in the Force, or, in Visas's case, had reunited her with the light side. She had awakened Mira to Nar Shadda, helped Atton release his anger, reassembled Mical's Force connection, aided Visas on her path, and brought peace to Bao-Dur. She had altered everyone's life around her.

Aneela looked at the sun as she sat at the edge of the docking bay. She has just awakened about ten hours ago. The sun bejeweled the sky as she stared at it in deep, pensive thought. She began to wonder about the future, a topic that was hardly ever discussed. She knew her future, but the crew did not. She knew she would have to tell them that she planned to leave, to follow Revan and to find her; she planned to help her fight off whatever's coming, or at least stall it, so the galaxy could ready itself.

Then she thought of the question of "What's out there?" She wondered where Revan went and how she traveled with out the Hawk to help her get around. What did she travel on? How could you not use machines in Unknown Regions? You must travel somehow. What about companions? An army of one normally fails. How could taking people you love somewhere only harm, not help? Why did Revan not explain anything or at least say when she'd be back?

Her mind instantly went to Carth Onasi at this thought. Would Atton and Mical end up like him—awaiting her return, and then one dying of a broken heart at hearing she'd chosen the other? She wondered how he was faring, or if he was faring at all. When she glimpsed him at their brief meeting on Telos, she could sense he'd already lost a lot, not even including Revan. He said Telos was home, meaning he'd lost it once. But did he have family here? Aneela didn't even want to think of his pain if he had a wife and children here and them dying along with his life. Now he'd finally found someone else—something impossible—and then she'd left him too. Aneela could feel his pain, and stopped thinking of him. She couldn't bear it, and sat in awe thinking of how he could.

More thoughts bombarded her: Who is Kreia—or Darth Traya? Why was she being hunted, although she already knew the answer? Where was Revan? Why did she leave? Will I live to return? Will I even have enough courage to go, let alone say goodbye? Can I look Atton and Mical in the eyes again? What the hell am I doing here?

Her questions were interrupted when she heard footsteps behind her. Please don't be Mical, she thought. But what about Atton? Oh, and Atton too, she thought again, trying to even herself out. She wished she could remain neutral but that would become harder and harder.

She spun round to see Bao-Dur. "'Ello, General," he said. "Beautiful, isn't it?" She nodded. They stared at the skyline. "Can I talk to you about this whole journey, General?" he asked. Aneela only nodded; she knew that Bao-Dur would never love her, but always be a friend. But she was afraid for half a second he was going to say, "I love you. Kill Mical and Atton and come to me" but he didn't. "You know, this has brought me a sense of peace. And who knew that me, that half-machine Iridonian, could've become a Jedi? Now that I've got this lightsaber..." he stopped, as if remembering something. "Oh yeah, here's your lightsaber. I tweaked it, like I did mine. I just added a few things I'd made myself." He handed her the lightsaber.

Aneela felt it in her hand—the thing she had used to end Kreia's would-be tyrannical reign. The hilt buzzed out, and the orange matched the sunset. She knew the crystals in it, only one—the Aneela Crystal from the kinrath caves on Dantooine. Revan has passed there on her journey, and the Aneela Crystal felt special somehow.

"I just wanted to thank you for teaching me the ways of the Force, General," he said softly. She looked at him; he looked like he could cry at any moment. "I'm going back to Iridonia," he spoke slowly, "to see what has become of my home since I was last there." "You're going—home?" Aneela asked. "Yes, General," he said nodding, "home's always got some call for me. I guess ever since you calmed the unrest inside of me brought on by Malachor, I can finally go home in peace. The anger is still there, but not as severe as before. I can now sleep thanks to you, General."

"Stay," she said, "at least another day." "I would, but the shuttle leaves tomorrow really early—peak morning hours," he said. "I'll miss you, General." "Bye, Bao," she said. And she could do what only a friend leaving a friend could do—she hugged him with tears in her eyes. One of the Padawans is leaving his master to forge his own path, she realized. Their tear-filled embrace lasted a few moments of silence. "The droids are all fixed up," he said, "and I'll leave the T3 with the good upgrades." He grinned. "I'd leave that G0-T0 unit on Nar Shadda whenever you get the chance." Aneela laughed. "Alright," she said. They stood up and he put his mechanical hand on her shoulder. "You've won again, General," he said, "and don't lose again either."

They hugged again and he left her and went aboard the Hawk to get the last of his things: mostly spare parts he'd collected from various places and a few other various items like clothing, some credits he'd won from Atton in one lone Pazaak game they'd played, a broken lightsaber the General had given him from the Jedi enclave sublevel, and a book that he filled his idle hours (while not repairing the Hawk or the droids) with sketches, scribbles, and drawings of droid designs and notes he'd taken while his many hours repairing. He stared at his belongings after they were scattered on the dormitory floor.

Atton was bored out of his mind. After Aneela said to everyone she wanted to meditate in the Coruscant sun, he realized that she meant spending at least three hours by herself. Only an hour had ticked by he was bored. He'd played Pazaak with himself, but he'd done that countless times when he was being taciturn and realized that Pazaak was half skill, half luck. He'd mastered the skill part, but the luck part was still something he'd need to grip hold of. But he needed an opponent, and there wasn't really a line. He counted his credits one-by-one to pass time and came up with 457 even. The entire 457 he'd won in Pazaak games in cantinas (he'd gotten about 50 credits from Mira after going into the medbay and talked to Mical and pretended to be interested).

From the cockpit, he noticed Aneela meditating at the edge of the hangar. He wondered what kept Jedi meditating. If this stuff takes so long, he wondered, then why shouldn't I try to pass time?

He got up from the pilot chair and went to the communication room. Mira wasn't working at the desk so he shut the door and locked it so nobody could catch him meditating. He also went into the communication room so nobody spying the security cameras could see him either. He sat on the floor and got into the meditating position every Jedi got into: pretzel legged, hands on your knees palms up. He closed his eyes. Now what? he thought.

He remembered reading a strange Pazaak book he'd received from a soldier friend called "Pazaak: Mind Over Matters". Throughout the 1040 pages of small print, he just learned things he already knew: mind tricks, watching opponent's eyes, and the like. But he also found out that supposedly meditating could numb your mind and prepare you for "seeing the numbers" or something bizarre like that. He remembered reading that to meditate, "one must focus on either blank white or good things". He didn't believe this, but he focused on good things.

But what are good things? He thought. He then began to wander in his mind. He thought of Pazaak games, Aneela, seeing Mical embarrassed, Nar Shadda, and Pazaak-playing Twi'lek dancers.

He opened his eyes abruptly. Am I Jedi? he wondered. I have a lightsaber, I've got the Force…shit, I am. Does this mean good-bye Pazaak and late nights on Juma at the cantina or the Pazaak den? Good-bye Nar Shadda and its glorious opportunities? He began to panic over the subject of losing his habits to protecting the galaxy. The fact that he, Atton Rand, would sacrifice something to a galaxy that wouldn't sacrifice itself for him was just absurd. The morbid reasons of him sacrificing himself for… for the galaxy? He stood up quickly. If this is what meditating brought on—sacrifices and other Jedi stuff—he'd have no part of it.

He opened the communication room door and proceeded back to the cockpit to play some Pazaak despite it was boring him out of his mind.

Aneela stared at the dark ceiling. It was about two in the morning and she was lying on the garage floor with her pillow and a blanket. She insisted that the crew sleep onboard the Hawk one last night together, for old time's sake. For supper, the entire crew had dinner at the Republic's mess hall and sat there reminiscing. She remembered it flawlessly:

They'd finished a dinner of some strange food off of some random planet—a food with too many hyphens and X's. They'd polished off two pitchers of Juma already and were sitting at a large table with just enough chairs for the seven of them (the droids were elsewhere). She was sitting on the far left of the table, and Atton naturally took the seat next to her as if trying to secretly say something that was brought out into the open. Mira sat next to her and then round the table was Visas, Mandalore, Mical, and Bao-Dur.

After their plates were taken away by the good kitchen staff (who was tipped later), the group poured fresh glasses of Juma and toasted to the future. It was an odd thing to toast to, for it was unspoken of, unknown, and full of despair for many of the crew.

When mentioning of the future, Atton observed Mical on the sly with a strange look in his eyes; Mical returned the look with a glare. Mira looked a bit unhappy, Mandalore was frowning a bit underneath his helmet, Visas was expressionless, as always, and Bao-Dur was the only one, save Aneela, who was grinning part way. "Come on, guys," Aneela said to the group. "Screw the future—think of the now." They took this as a command and grinned a bit.

They talked of times from the journey that brought back great memories. Aneela, in her own mind, drowned herself with Juma for some reason. She would've bottled up that night and gotten drunk on it every single day of her life if she could've. The feeling of fellowship and of friends was so great, it made her want to burst and do something spontaneous and crazy.

But that was over. The ceiling of the garage was dark and she was awaiting Bao-Dur's leave. She wanted to say goodbye to a good friend one last time; she knew more of this was to come, and she wouldn't get this chance. She thought of her future. Would she follow Revan? She then thought of Atton and Mical and started weeping. It would break her inside to hurt either of them. But what was her head telling her? Immerse her soul in who?

She then heard the sound of footsteps and sat up, tears still streaming down her face. Expecting to see Bao-Dur, she didn't bother wiping her eyes. She knew he didn't care, and she knew he would do the same. He was returning to Iridonia, and she would probably never or rarely see him again. The footsteps drew closer and more tears fell. Bye, Bao-Dur… she thought sorrowfully as she laid her head back down on the pillow.

Aneela almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Mical walking about the ship. "What the hell are you doing?" she said, startled. Quickly she turned away to wipe her eyes but it was too late—he'd seen her. "Is everything alright?" he asked, apparently concerned.

He wasn't going to laugh it off as a joke? He actually cared? But… she thought. He cared—he really cared. She even saw the unrest in his eyes. What is my head telling me? she thought. Is this my future? She looked down the hallway to Atton's dormitory. Or is that?

She stood and walked to Mical. "No," she said, more tears falling and hugged him. She buried her face in his shoulder. She was weeping bitterly now. Was it just convenient or was this it? Her head ripped her open with questions: Did she love Atton or Mical? She knew that an answer would be demanded of her soon—and she didn't have one… yet.