Awkward Contradictions

The Exile returns from Malachor V, only to say goodbye. Fem Exile.

Rated PG13 – COUGHCOUGH

Disclaimer: I'm going to slap myself around. M'kay? M'kay.

Awkward Contradictions

The flight into space was rocky. The exile pushed it, pressing down long enough on the trigger to make the hyperspace engines whine in complaint and make the ship give a shudder from the rear forward. She gasped, letting go, and the ship began to sink backwards again. Gently, she nudged the steer stick, glancing into the rear camera vidscreen, holding her breath. Malachor's deadly, leering eye glowered back at her, and her throat tightened. Her hands squeezed the trigger again; sweat bit her temple. The ship lurched forward again, but they weren't putting away enough space… She didn't care. She wanted to planet to crumble, to turn to ashes in her damn hands. T3 whooped at her from the back of the ship, alerting her that the engines weren't liking her. She relaxed her grip again.

Why wasn't Malachor blowing?

She swore violently, slamming her fist on the consol. A hologram flickered on, and she gasped as Remote appeared. It translated to her that there was a catch in the system, and that he was re-routing the codes.

T3 whooped at her from the back again. G0T0 was missing.

Relina stiffened. "Find him," she said coldly.

Remote's beeping grew soft. It told her, quietly, that G0T0 was there, currently running a round so that no one was going to interrupt his careful plan. Remote told her that G0T0 wasn't going to let her blow up the planet.

"Okay, listen," Relina hissed, glancing anxiously over her shoulder. The blood was rushing to her head, making her dizzy and jumpy. "You still have that blaster Bao-Dur stuck on you?"

Remote said, "Yes."

"Okay. When he comes, shock him. It'll knock him good enough to shut him off. I remember, I was told… if he's turned off without his warrant, he blows up. A big enough explosion to… say… take out a fourth of a planet?"

Remote screamed with enthusiasm.

"Shh!" she reprimanded. "Listen! Do that, and the aftershock will be big enough to knock Malachor V right off the charts. You got that? Come through for me, Remote."

Remote agreed.

"Good. You're a good little droid. Bao-Dur will be proud."

Remote turned off the vidscreen. Relina held her breath, listening. T3's little wheels made an echo on the ship, and she realized with a start how empty it was. Then the little droid shrieked; he had found Mira.

Relina swore. She wanted to leave the cockpit, but couldn't. "How is she, T3?" she called back, nearly jumping in her seat. She glanced at the Malachor V charts once more. They weren't going to clear it, they weren't going to clear it, they weren't going to gods-damn clear it –

Mira was fine. Just exhausted.

She slammed on the accelerator. The ship moaned. Suddenly, a jarring explosion threw the ship, and Relina screamed, jerking frantically on the shift sticks. "No, no, no! YOU BASTARD SHIP! FLY!" The ship rolled and rattled several times before she finally stimulated the stabilizers. Her breath came heavy and labored, burning her lungs, and she shut her eyes, letting the tears come. She tenderly prodded her insides. She felt no different.

She checked the vidscreen.

Malachor was missing a good chunk, but was still alive. She screamed violently, jerking to her feet. "NO!"

Then she saw it. The minuscule, deep-red cracks breaking over the world's surface. She sank back into her seat and stared, awestruck, as the planet slowly turned red. The reflection bathed the entire cockpit in a crimson glow; the light shone in Relina's eyes and her lips slowly parted with awe. It was a beautiful fireball – a romantic symphony of reds and oranges and yellows, so that it turned into some godly sun, rather than the dead planet that it was. Her breath hitched several times; she was astounded at the beauty… at the deliciously gorgeous eye that stared out at her, burning, burning…

And, suddenly, like a bulb going out, the planet vanished.

She gasped, searching desperately for the planet. But it was gone. All that was left was a gaping black hole in space – as much a wound as Malachor itself.

She sank back in her seat, and realized with cold apathy that she felt no different at all.

And apathy is death itself.

------

It had all happened so fast. She sank back in her seat, drawing her knees up, her eyes shining with some strange, round emptiness. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked again. Nothing. Her breath hitched in her throat.

It was gone.

It was all… gone.

The tears started slowly at first, beginning with an odd pressure on her lungs, until it rose, catching and suffocating, in her throat, and then it stung her eyes until they began pouring, wet and thick, down her round, pale cheeks. She sobbed, losing her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and knew it was Mira.

"Hey, babe, don't cry," Mira murmured. Relina stood and lost herself in her friend's breast, crying openly. Mira patted her on the back, unsure of exactly what to say.

It couldn't be said how long the two women stood there, holding each other, saying nothing. The only noise was the occasionally bleep from the navicomputer and the heavy, racking sobs from Relina.

When Relina finally recovered, Mira gently steered her into a chair.

"Are you okay now?" she asked soothingly. "Can you breathe? Do you need some caffa? I can make some, nice and hot, if it will help you calm down."

Relina shook her head, wiping her tears on her sleeve, only to have a fresh batch replace them. Her speech was slurred and broken by hiccups. "I-I'll be fine. I-I just n-need some time t-to get… g-get a hold o-of m-m-my… myself."

Mira nodded and said softly, "Okay."

Relina nodded at Mira. "Go lock our position to Telos. I… have to say goodbye."

Mira frowned. "Goodbye?" she echoed.

Relina looked away. "Just do it, please," she said; her voice was deep and strangled again.

Mira did, though reluctantly. When she finished, she sat in the co-pilot's seat and stared into empty space, her hands rested on her lap.

"So…" Relina mumbled, her voice hitching again. "What are you going to do… after this?"

"I… I'm not sure," Mira admitted, staring at her hands. "I… this will be the first time, in a long time, that I'll be able to make a choice without worrying about Hanharr on my back."

"Hanharr?"

"I… spared him," Mira said blankly; her eyes were glassy. "He asked me to kill him, but I… I couldn't do it. He died there. His furry corpse is nothing but space dust now." Without warning, she, too, began to sob, and cradled her face in her hands. Relina watched her for a moment before she reached out.

"I'm sorry."

Mira jerked away. "No, no," she sniffed. "I'll be fine. It's just…" She shook her head, making a noise between a laugh and a sob. She wiped away the tears on her eyes. "I shouldn't be crying. You've been through so much more than me and you can still keep your wits about you."

Relina smiled. "I hardly consider bawling my eyes out keeping my wits about me."

Mira laughed genuinely, and offered her friend a smile, though it was heavily blurred behind her tears.

Somehow, the two rode in comfortable silence for the rest of the journey.

------

Telos appeared like the sun on a horizon. Relina felt awash with relief, and found herself battling back yet another wave of tears. They landed and she staggered from the ship with Mira on her heels, drawing her cloak tightly around herself to shield out the frosty winter chill. Almost immediately, the bay doors opened and she saw them – her friends.

She could say nothing. Atton ran to her and embraced her, pulling her tightly to his chest, locking one arm firmly around her waist. She allowed him to hold her, listening to his heartbeat and breathing. He was alive, and he was Atton. He smelled like Atton, like leather and spices, warm, inviting, and his grip was still firm but loving. She felt his large hand on the small of her back, hear his gentle breathing in her ear.

Tear started up anew. She looked away, and he recoiled, looking slightly stricken.

"Relina?"

His voice… oh, his voice. So soft now, meek. She shook her head, gritting her teeth and swallowing back her tears. Mical came to her next, taking her hand and studying her face.

"Relina?"

Oh, not him, too… his voice was softer than Atton's, ringing on the vowels, and not at all demanding, but totally open.

She couldn't bring herself to face Bao-Dur or Visas; the two of them were so raw with her that it would be unbearable. Mandalore didn't touch her. He only nodded.

"Hey, Lena Doll, what's wrong?" Atton asked cautiously. He rubbed her shoulder and she shook, grinding her teeth, harder, harder, until it hurt.

Mical noticed and worry made his eyes grow dark. "Relina? What's the matter?" He tried to tilt her face to look at him, but she looked away, jerking so violently Atton didn't try to touch her again.

"You're leaving, aren't you, General?" Bao-Dur murmured; his quiet voice cut through the tension like a knife through warm butter. It was a statement, not a question. He shook his head and fixed her gaze with his own, and she broke.

Tears came before the sobbing, the sobbing came before the whimpering, the whimpering came before the screaming. It was a system and a chain, and soon enough she found herself on her knees before them all, shaking and pleading and trying not to drown in her own tears...

"What do you mean, you're leaving?" Atton shouted.

Mical frowned at him and knelt beside Relina. She lost her face in his shoulder. He wasn't Atton – his hands were gentle, tender, barely touching her as he held her. She didn't gather as much warmth from him, and he smelled pure, only very faintly of soaps and nothing more. She could breathe easier with him, and soon her tears weren't quite so painful.

Atton jammed his hands in his pockets, not about to let this matter go. "LENA!"

"I know," she moaned. "I know."

Mical's grip tightened on her. "You do not have to say anything, not yet," he said. "You need to heal. You've been through so much."

She pushed him away, gently. He rocked back on his heels, watching her as she stood. "I'm afraid your medical training won't help me now," she told him softly. This wounded him. He pressed a palm to his heart, but said nothing.

She walked in a quick circle, shaking her head as if to clear it. Finally, she sighed, kneading her temples. "Kreia said –"

"Kreia!" Atton snarled.

"Shut up!" Mira snapped. "You're not helping her any!"

Relina choked for a moment, before she continued. "Kreia said that when I leave… I can't take…" – she paused to sob again and forced a deep breath – "I can't take anyone I love with me, or you'll die."

Atton shook his head. "I don't care," he said. "I'm coming with you."

"As am I!" Mical cried.

"And me!" Sloe announced, coming out of his comatose silence.

"And me," Mira said.

"As well as I," said Visas.

"And me, too," said Bao-Dur.

Mandalore was mute.

"I know," Relina sobbed, now so shaken that her breath wouldn't come. She felt faint and her stomach hurt and she felt like her throat was all wet. The tears just wouldn't stop; she tried to brush them away, furiously, sniffling and sobbing, and she got angrier and angrier with herself.

"We won't let you go," Atton said firmly. "I refuse to let you go."

Everyone joined in a chorus of, "Shut up, Atton" and "You aren't leaving without us."

"I want to say goodbye," she said; her voice getting slightly high-pitched. "Will you just let me do that?"

No one said anything. Bao-Dur turned his eyes to her, so wide and dark and doleful, that she went to him first. She held his pale face in her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead, then both eyelids and cheeks, and finally his lips. He kept steady the entire time, his gaze never leaving her face, and she stared sadly into his eyes.

"I will miss you, Bao-Dur," she murmured.

"I will miss you, General," he replied.

She turned next to Sloe. He stared at her coldly. Slowly, she held out a hand, and they shook firmly, their gazes locking, and he grinned wolfishly. He gave her arm a gentle jerk, suggesting to her, and she complied by hugging him tightly. He patted her on the back gently. "This isn't over," he hissed in her ear.

"No, it's not," she murmured back. Staring into his eyes, she let go and turned to Mandalore.

"I understand," he said.

She nodded and they bowed to each other. Unable to restrain herself, she threw herself forward bodily and hugged him tightly around the middle; his breath hitched and he forced a small laugh, though he was deeply stricken by her actions. He gently thumped her on the back and Atton's glower turned so dark his eyes vanished beneath the hood that was his brow.

Relina detangled herself and threw herself into Mira's arms next. The two girls clung to each other for a good, long time, before Mira gently kissed her and sent her off again, this time to Visas, who only bowed to her.

Relina didn't hug her, but she did hold her hand for a moment and stare earnestly at her friend. Visas offered a small smile, though it twitched with the stubborn weight of her pain.

Relina now faced Mical. He shifted awkwardly and finally held out a hand to her. She hugged him tightly; he hugged her back.

"Please do not hurt me," he murmured in her ear softly. She sobbed into his shoulder a few times and he gently stroked her hair before she pulled away and wiped her tears, nodding at him, battling back the nauseous feeling in her throat. He bowed to her and, finally, she turned to Atton.

"Atton," she said.

He glowered back darkly, arms folded, his body hunched as if to protect himself from the world. "I hate you," he said in a deep, soft tone, his voice husky. "I hate you."

Her voice came in a tiny warble. "You don't mean that," she squeaked. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He looked away, shrugging, scowling.

She reached out to him, and even though he tried to pull away, she gripped his wrist like a vise, her eyes burning, and her voice grew shrill. "TELL ME YOU DON'T MEAN IT!"

He turned his dark eyes to her, his expression unchanging.

"ATTON!"

He clicked his teeth, his expression turning from angry to nasty. He jerked his hand from her, his mouth curling into an alien, feral snarl. She stared at him, eyes wide and swimming, and he growled again, "I hate you." And then, quick as thought, he reached out and got a firm grip on her arms. She cried out; her companions instantaneously drew their weapons. But instead of hurting her, he pulled her against him and kissed her.

She yelped with surprise; Mical cried out with horror. Mira stared blankly, Bao-Dur immediately dropped his guard, Visas remained poised to attack, and Mandalore began to laugh. Mical stood there helplessly as she succumbed and Atton satisfied his thirst. The younger man felt slightly broken and turned his eyes away, shuddering.

Sloe laughed, clapping his hands loudly and whooping. Mira slapped him upside the head and shut him up.

When Atton pulled away, he still held her, and she stared up at him with wide eyes and trembling hands. She traced his facial structure with her hands, her lips slightly parted, and the tears came soundlessly.

"Tell me you don't mean it," she whispered.

They were lost in a sobbing, mumbling pile, holding onto each other as they sank to their knees, foreheads pressed together. Occasionally, in wounded desperation, they would kiss… but mostly they exchanged apologies and tears, half-hearted murmurs of 'I hate you' and 'you don't mean it.'

With some rare discretion, the others turned their backs. All for Mical, who sat in a quaking pile a few meters away.

The next morning she was gone.

------

Author's Notes: Again. Weak ending, weak beginning. I hate myself for that deadly habit. I promise I'll try a little harder next time. But I still like it. It doesn't go very deep and has no specific point, but that's what I like about it. It's just a scene, a prequel, if you will, to Beyond the Horizon, if you want it to be (thus Sloe's 'this isn't over' and Visas's detachment).

And oh yeah: YAY ME FOR 35 STORIES. WHATWHATHECKYES!