The sun was rising on Coruscant as Aneela was standing by the G-wing single passenger ship. She stared out at the sun; she couldn't look at her companions.

Visas had left the day before to a transport to a planet near where Katarr was so she could finally go and seek the peace she wanted for so long. She said a simple goodbye and left. Aneela knew her leave wouldn't be that simple, although she wished it was.

She sensed Mical, Mira, and Atton standing behind her. She knew their plans: Mical was going to travel back and forth to Telos and Coruscant to give his medical skills and studies to whoever needs it. He told her that he was going to make the republic stronger, and help the galaxy in any way he could. She remembered the begging in his eyes that told her to stay.

Mira was going back on Nar Shadda on a transport in a few hours around noon. She knew that Mira would miss her, and that not all of Mira was emotionless as she wanted people to think she was. Mira needed Nar Shadda—it was her home and it beckoned just as Iridonia called Bao-Dur.

Atton would want to stay on Coruscant, but she knew Mira would drag Atton back to Nar Shadda with her. She'd give him an safe house and offer Mical housing if he ever came to Nar Shadda, but she doubted he ever will. Mira knew what she was doing: she served with the Mandalorians in the Wars and was smarter than she appeared. Plus her training with Visas made her even more stronger in combat and in mind. She seemed wiser.

Aneela couldn't shake them from her head no matter how hard she tried or how much she wanted to; she could feel their stares boring into her back.

Just then, a soldier came up to her. "Miss," he said, "we need the loading dock and my commanding officer requests you move your transport within the hour—we're expecting another ship." She nodded, not looking up at the soldier. "Thank you," he said. She knew he saluted and heard him walk off. If only I could walk away, she thought. But you need to aid Revan. You need to help and do whatever you can for this galaxy…this galaxy you scarred, saved, and need to save once more, she thought as she heard the soldier's footsteps fade.

She began to turn. This is it. Slowly she strode over to the group of what was left of their crew of ten, what was left of her Padawans. They look so…defeated, like they are going to be executed, Aneela observed. Her mind flashed back:

"Please, don't come tomorrow," Aneela had said. "Why?" Atton objected. "Because…you shouldn't see me like this—leaving you," she said. He took her hands. "No," he said. "I'm going to finish it."

She didn't get what "I'm going to finish it" meant, but she let him come anyways.

"Aneela…you must let someone—anyone—come with you. It seems dangerous where you are going," Mical told her. "I have go to alone," she said. "Just like Revan did…" "But please, at least tell me where you're going," he said. "Exactly where you're going." Aneela looked at the floor. "I can't," she said, "because even I don't know where I'm going."

She remembered closing her eyes; Aneela just couldn't look Mical in the eye anymore.

"You know, you don't have to do this. Hell, you've given enough," Mira said. "Why are you going, anyways?" "Revan hasn't returned," Aneela responded. "So I'm going to…" She stopped. "To what? Aid? Stop? Kill?" Mira suggested finishing fragments. "I don't know," Aneela said, staring off into space.

She pushed the memories aside as she walked over to Mira. "Take care of yourself, kid," she said as they hugged. "I will," Aneela said. "I promise." Will I even be able to? She wondered. Or will this just turn into another one of those stupid disasters?

Mira looked a bit tired: her hair was a bit messy and her belt was sideways. Her lightsaber was lopsided and her robes were tied wrong. "You look tired," Aneela remarked. "Not enough sleep…uncomfortable beds," Mira lied. She looks terrible, Aneela thought. Just leave now and stop these overly tense goodbyes.

She next stepped over to Mical—the blonde doctor who had saved her life. She remembered that bow on Dantooine where she was both shocked at his chivalrous display and scared a bit that he might be a psychotic wonder boy wannabe. Luckily he hadn't pushed himself too much at her which was nice. Sometimes he suffocated her, but it was by things too complex for her to even comprehend.

"I'll see you soon," she said. "That I promise you." She put a hand on his shoulder. "You will help and be the future." She looked into his eyes. "I know it." She gave him a hug and said before moving onwards, "Good luck, Mical." Why can't this be over? She wondered.

She moved to Atton. Why does he have to be now? She asked herself. Why can't he be "never"? She said nothing but quickly embraced him in a strong hug. It lasted for a few seconds. "I will come back for you. I promise," were the only words she said. He didn't say anything, like Mical.

She pulled away from him and began to walk when he grasp her hand. "When?" he asked quietly. She turned and looked into his brown eyes that had a melancholy look in them that she couldn't bear to see. "Soon," she said in the most reassuring voice she could muster. She slipped a Pazaak card into Atton's hand. "I'll be right here with you playing Pazaak," she whispered so only he could hear it and walked towards the ship.

She turned didn't look back to see their faces. But she did it anyways just before going onto the ship. She turned to see Mira, Mical, and Atton raise hands in a wave. Aneela waved goodbye back to them for some reason she didn't know.

Aneela wanted to run back and throw herself in Atton's arms and hear Mical talk about boring concepts she didn't understand and hear Mira brag about being a bounty hunter on Nar Shadda at that moment. Resisting that was one of the hardest things ever.

She boarded and watched their faces as she activated the launch procedures of the ship. They were still staring at her, and watched her leave. Mical turned to leave, but the two stayed. The Disciple slowly walked away, knowing he'd see her again in years—and those years would be a struggle. "You will sit on the new council…" Her words echoed inside of his mind. You will do this not only for her, but for everything she is fighting for, he told himself as he exited the landing pad.

Atton was still staring at the ship as it disappeared off Coruscant. He stared at it a few minutes after it left. "Atton…" Mira started. "We've gotta go."

"Yeah…um, right. The ship to Nar Shadda…" he said, knowing no amount of Juma can cure this disease. "Where's the Ebon Hawk going?" He was still staring at the sky. "The Republic wants it for some reason." Mira put her hand on his shoulder; he ignored it. "The droids?" "They're staying too." She looked at him. "Atton…we've got to go."

He was kicked out of his daze. "Oh…right," he said. He slipped the Pazaak card into his pocket. "You—you just go on ahead. I've got to get my stuff off the Hawk," he said. "Okay," Mira said. "Meet met outside its docking bay, okay?" He nodded and waited until she was gone.

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the card. It was a normal card except for the words scribbled on it: "I love you, Atton, and I'm coming back for you. Love, Aneela." He stared at it, then at the sky, and left the landing pad.

Traffic on Citadel Station was minimal at the peak hours of the night—some ships sped past the window of Apartment C14. The small apartment had a bed, a few chairs, a desk, and a dresser.

Carth Onasi rolled over on his bed to face to window and watch the small amounts of traffic go by. Telos was saved once, and he was glad it was. But that was four years ago. He felt a twinge of arthritis in his arm as he moved it. That new implant helps, he thought as he remembered all the pain he had before. He got arthritis young, but luckily the implants had an affect on him.

He stared around at the empty apartment: assorted books and papers were strewn across the desktop but were still neat and orderly in their own way. The dresser's top was empty, but the drawers were filled with men's clothes mostly, except for the untouched top drawer which was female's.

Carth rolled over again on his back and stared at the ceiling. His mind always wandered to Revan, despite it had been eight—or was it nine?—years since her leave. He'd forgotten the exact day she left, and was glad he did. I wonder how she's faring, he would often think. When she comes back, I'm going to do something special for her. Maybe one of those fancy dinners? His mind would then wander to possibilities and the scenario would play in his head. There were too many to remember, put on paper, or even tell anybody without them forgetting one or two.

Then there was a knock at his door. I'm not surprised, he thought as he threw the covers off him. Sometimes the TSF would wake him up because he was needed for various reasons. Grenn couldn't handle every single situation and Carth was usually called in at night since Grenn was busy during the day. "I'm coming," he said as he went over to the dresser's middle drawer and pulled out the shirt to his officer's uniform. The Cross of Glory and a few other medals clinked; he stared at the Cross of Glory.

Revan had left him hers when she left in the middle of the night. She knew he'd want something of hers to hold onto, so she left him that. A piece was chipped off, but he didn't care. He always carried it with him, and now was no exception. He pulled on the shirt, and put Revan's Cross of Glory in a pocket. He pulled on a pair of pants and his boots.

The person knocked again. "Alright," he said. "I'm coming." Carth quickly skimmed through pages of papers on the desktop and threw the important looking ones in the TSF booklet he was supposed to take with him when he went to the security office.

He picked up the book and walked pas the mirror and noticed his face—it had aged in the last eight years and he could see a few grays. I'm getting older by the second, he thought as he tried to brush his brown hair over the grays; it failed. To hell with it, he told himself as he picked up the book and opened the door.

But it wasn't a Republic soldier at the door. It was a fairly skinny woman wearing ripped robes. Her hair was shoulder length, and looked like it had been sliced with a vibroblade it was so uneven. He then saw her eyes and recognized her right away: it was Revan.

He dropped the TSF book and couldn't speak. She's here! His mind exploded with joy and questions. "Revan…" he breathed. It was the only thing he could say. He was immobilized by shock, and knew whatever else he could say would come out as an inaudible mutter.

She gave him something that seemed to be a half-nod and immediately kissed him with eight years of emotion. It lasted for what seemed forever. The lights flooding the dark apartment didn't affect them at all; the empty hallway suited them perfectly.

She moved him back into the empty apartment, closing the door behind her. "I'm sorry," she said in between kisses, "I took so long." "It's," Carth said, "fine." It's just you, he thought. It doesn't matter anymore.

Author's Note: Sorry that I kind of messed this one up. After reading the last few chapters, I've only thought "This has gone downhill." Whether you like it or think it sucked out loud really matters to me... :). Sorry if I totally messed this one up. I just wanted to finish a bit quickly, so the ending is rushed meaning it's terrible. :(. I didn't really like this one anymore because I think I started to ruin it a few chapters ago. Apologies to the abrputness and severe poorness of the ending. I'm going to one last chapter—a short epilogue. Thanks for reading, I really liked writing up until a few chapters ago, but I still liked to write it even though I didn't like the finished product a lot! Thanks for the great reviews and support.

Darth Spock