3960 BBY, aboard The Leviathan, on the edge of the Unknown Regions
Eden Valen
"Revan said you were as good as dead," Alek had spat at her, his eyes bright and blue, menacing in the half-darkness as she circled him from the shadows of his viewing deck.
"If she'd not miscalculated, I would be dead," Eden had replied through gritted teeth. As the Force ebbed away from her, an ever-retreating wave, Eden fought to retain control of the crystal embedded in the saber she held aloft now, its shaft crackling like an unstable flame. Alek's eyes flashed, watching her cerulean blade flicker and snap. Eden swung, hard, smiling as she saw Alek's eyes go wide.
"Careful, Captain Malak," she'd warned, "I'm afraid you're likely to be next."
"Next?" he sneered, though she could hear the fear thick in his voice.
"She sought to have me killed because she knew I'd say no, she knew I'd never follow her. That's why she sent me to Malachor, with every intention that I would die there. Now, you, however-" Eden swung at empty air again, knowing she wouldn't hit Alek but knowing that he was growing increasingly wary of her tone of voice. She'd never spoken like this to him before. Nothing louder than soft affirmations in recent years, but even before then she'd been too awestruck to say anything cutting in his presence unless it was to catch him off-guard in the friendly sense, to impress him. But now, she wanted to wound him. She wanted him to hurt, she wanted to affirm his deepest fears and drive the knife in as far as it would allow. "She knows you'll follow her, but only for as long as it suits you."
Alek ignited his blade to meet hers, a shining red now instead of the calming blue she'd come to know, missing her only by a hair.
"Revan and I were both there," he hissed, "She wouldn't have been able to accomplish any of this without me!"
Eden could hear the righteous fury in his voice, trembling with realization as her words sunk in.
"You're right, she couldn't have." Eden smiled despite the sick feeling in her stomach, "But that won't stop her from striking you down."
She knew her own words to be true, but she still hated saying it. She hated that she was even here, now, fighting with Alek despite all they'd been through, still mourning every bit of him he'd sacrificed to this war and hating every new part of him he'd built to take its place. A new person entirely - not just a ghost of his old self but a mockery of it.
Alek hissed again through his teeth, igniting his lightsaber once more and slashing into nothingness.
"You take that back."
"Why would I?" Eden purred through the darkness, her connection to the Force still ebbing as she spoke. "Search your feelings. You know it to be true."
Alek only glared at her through the shadows with eyes bright like ice, every bit of his old self gone until only Malak remained.
Eden regretted all the pain suffered at Serroco, Dagary Minor, at Malachor, and held herself personally responsible for all she had done there. But she did not once regret slicing Alek's jaw from Malak's face, wishing she could have done more.
3951 BBY, Dantooine orbit
Erebus
Eden never fell to the Dark Side. Erebus would have felt it. She'd flirted with the Dark Side, yes, but she'd never once succumbed to it. At least not the way Erebus had. And overhearing Vash practically say it was fact from the next room made him feel...well, he wasn't sure.
Part of him was angry, as much as anyone disseminating false information angered him on the regular. But another part of him was almost prideful, covetous of this little secret that only he knew. Atris had later claimed that anyone who followed Revan to war was already lost to the Dark Side, even if Revan's official involvement in the conflict was sanctioned by the Council, hypocrite that Atris was. Erebus could argue that the other members of the Council later adopted Atris' mentality but he knew that wasn't true. He knew Vash and Zez Kai-Ell had argued the opposite, despite Atris' insistence. He'd overheard their debates and was on the receiving end of Atris' many tirades afterwards, wondering if Atris ever blamed herself once he, too, disappeared - if she'd ever connected the dots. Part of him felt she had to, even if she didn't admit it.
And perhaps that had been the key to Atris' sanity - accusing Eden of falling to the Dark Side, as if it were the consequence for not accepting her as a teacher, all while conveniently ignoring the mysterious disappearance of her actual student just as Revan rose to power as a Lord of the Sith. Erebus smiled, not knowing if it were true but finding solace in the idea of it.
His smile tightened as the planet loomed into view, lingering if only for the actual happy memories he still associated with the place. But after talk of Exar Kun, of his old lightsaber - torn asunder and abandoned in the fields just before he accepted the position as Atris' student Historian - and his sister's nonexistent fall to the Dark Side, Erebus's face soon harbored a snarl as the planet truly neared, still a beautiful blue-green from orbit despite the damage he knew it sustained since he'd last been here.
Erebus' hand reached for the intercom, pausing just as his fingers hovered over the button. He'd already told his passengers that they'd be arriving soon. There was no need to tell them they were ready to land, lest they all get too friendly…
Instead, Erebus reached for the landing gear - only to pause there, too. No, not yet.
He looked at the planet again, as if it might look back at him. How long has it been? Eight years? It felt longer. And how long had it been since Malak doomed the place?
The orb was serene, same as it had the last Erebus remembered, the damage invisible from this distance. Trying not to develop expectations of the changed landscape, Erebus reached for his ship's control panel, keying in the sequence for his cloaking device. Can't be too careful.
Within moments, the ship was invisible. In the years since Revan's redemption, many Republic planets had developed technology to detect cloaked Star Forge vessels, but Erebus had a feeling Dantooine wasn't one of them. The lack of comms activity attested to that. As well as the mounting dread growing in his chest - partly anxiety and partly the Force confirming his suspicions, though it told him nothing more. As per usual.
He sighed, closing his eyes. He needed sleep, he needed to not be doing this, whatever this was. Steadying his breathing, Erebus honed in on his frustration, harboring the energy borne of it and saving it for later, should he have need of it. With an exhale, he opened his eyes, calmer now… save for the imminent collision with a huge chunk of debris that was now headed straight for his ship.
"Shit."
With a jolt, Erebus sprung for the controls again, careening the ship to the right. And then left, and then up, and down, down, down and around again.
"Maker preserve me," he gasped, white-knuckled, pulling the ship up and reducing the speed as much as he could before they all turned to space dust.
It was everywhere. Debris, ship remnants, rock, dust - all manner of space trash.
Malak.
"Everything okay up there?" a voice asked from the back room, muffled through the closed door.
Huffing a breath, Erebus slammed a fist on the door panel, the air swishing as the barrier slid open.
"Why don't you come see for yourself?" he shouted over his shoulder, the anger already threatening to bubble over, his fingers hot on the controls.
Within seconds, Vash and Mical were at his side. Mical gasped as he entered the cockpit, a hand flying to his mouth as he witnessed it, ducking slightly as if it would make a difference when Erebus swung low to avoid the floating detritus. Vash was quiet, her mouth a thin line.
"Is this all Darth Malak's doing?" Mical asked, his voice aghast.
"Likely," Erebus breathed, still piloting like his life depended on it - and it did.
"Even after all these years?"
Erebus bit the inside of his mouth, holding his tongue. Quelling the strong desire to roll his eyes, he looked back at the man, a few choice words ready on his tongue before he felt Master Vash's hand on his shoulder. Spinning, but still piloting to the best of his abilities, Erebus met her gaze to find her eyes closed, her grip tightening.
"What're you-?"
And then he felt it. Complete serenity. He blinked, and within moments his limbs loosened, grip easing on the clutch as his mind emptied of all thought and worry. Time slowed, allowing him to maneuver seamlessly, his hands moving as if of their own accord. It washed over him, like the pleasant warmth of alcohol upon the first sip, before Erebus snarled. He shot a look at Vash, knowing she could sense it even if she could not feel it, and shook the feeling from his veins. With a flourish, he upped their speed again and shot through the remaining debris like it was nothing, the planet looming into view faster than any of them were ready for.
"Next time, ask for permission," Erebus said through gritted teeth, "And don't expect an affirmation."
Mical balked before he realized the jab was not meant for him, shrinking into the corner of the cockpit as Erebus brought them in for landing.
The view rapidly changed from that of a nearing planet to a planet in full, the atmospheric barrier soon eclipsing their field of view entirely and making way for mountains and scorched fields, either barren or overgrown beyond the smoldering viewport of Erebus' ship having entered the planet's atmosphere all too quickly. Where the Jedi Temple should have been were ruins, but before he could peruse them for a landing pad Erebus veered towards the valley, knowing a grove that might hide his ship. Erebus encroached on a patch of blba trees overlooking a sharp cliff and engaged the landing gear, watching Vash with a scowl as he keyed in the final sequence, his hand steady on the lever as she watched him with a measured gaze.
"I was only trying to save our skins-" she started but Erebus cut her off.
"I know what I'm doing!" he barked over his shoulder. "And if we're to work together, whatever that means, you're just going to have to trust that - even if you can't trust me. Go on faith here, it'll be easier than us butting heads."
"Faith is an interesting word," Vash countered, her eyes narrowing.
"It is, isn't it?"
You're not my Master anymore.
With minimal turbulence, the ship eased into the blba grove as if it had always belonged there, nestling beneath the cover of branches overhead through what Erebus now realized was the grey of early morning. Without another word, Erebus shot up out of his seat, grabbing his cloak from the makeshift hook on the wall. The engines still ran hot as the loading ramp descended.
"Let's get this over with, shall we?"
Neither Vash nor Mical moved.
Erebus sighed, the indignation clear on his face.
"The ship was cloaked if that makes either of you feel better. But the longer we linger here, the faster we'll be found out. And if that happens, it won't be my fault."
And with that, Erebus exited the ship.
3959 BBY, Outer Rim
Eden Valen
It was like a limb lost, but worse. Dying slowly, flickering in and out of feeling before being snuffed out entirely. A fire burning bright until only embers remained before turning into dead ash. She'd experience flashes here and there – feeling tethered to the world around her by more than just intuition, feeling the way energy moved around her but only for a moment, or sensing someone's emotions from across the room for an instant before she could glean nothing but dead air. She almost preferred the gnawing hunger, the ache of death that overcame her in the wake of Malachor V, knowing that it was the least of what she deserved for what happened there. To feel nothing was a blessing she did not deserve, and the guilt hardly made up for it.
3951 BBY, Khoonda Headquarters, Dantooine
Mission
Her name, it turned out, was Dillan, and her air of annoyance seemed to be an eternal one. Even as the woman she had ceremoniously introduced as Administrator Adare spoke at length, Dillan did nothing to hide her frustrations - nursing her temples at every word while rolling her eyes at every other. It was clear that her issue was not with Administrator Adare herself, but with the matters of which the woman spoke.
"I've allowed the scavengers to pick the ruins, knowing that it soothes the remaining residents' conscience," the Administrator said once they'd stated their business and asked what exactly was going on here on Dantooine. Adare was gently pacing a few steps before Mission, Zaalbar, Zayne and Asra as she spoke, her arms clasped in front of her with a measured grace. They all stood in the center of what Mission had aptly recognized as the Matale estate - or had been - though she was unsure of what this room had been used for prior to its current function as a makeshift command center. A few out-of-place desks were scattered about the large room beneath a ruined chandelier and a flickering holo-plant in the corner, monitors set up around the dias as if the place were designed for surveillance instead of hosting guests. "It proves that we care not for the legacy of the Jedi, given what devastation happened here as a result, but in truth we really need their help."
Zayne laughed, hardly containing his mirth at the recounting of circumstances despite Administer Adare's earnest plea. Mission jabbed him in the ribs before mustering up what she could to console the woman, though she seemed stoic enough on her own.
"I understand. The Jedi are powerful and could help with such matters is what I'm gathering, yes?"
Mission's voice sounded so unlike her own, and judging by the way Zaalbar shifted beside her, the change in character was obvious. Mission was never good at playing politics, but knowing that whatever planet-side political nonsense played into whatever it was Carth expected her to do here, the best she could do was muster her best Bastila impression. At least in vocabulary and cadence alone. It made her feel more professional. The attitude was something she had picked up from Nevarra.
"Well, something like that. You see-" Adare paused, tilting her head just so, as if her next words were encrypted on the strange dais in the center of the room. Her silver headdress twinkled in the light, Mission's eyes straying to the odd accessory even as she was trying to focus on whatever the woman was trying to say, "We'd made the acquaintance of a certain Jedi, a survivor from the Temple here, but he's gone missing. We've secured several of the more… delicate Jedi artifacts we were able to extract from the ruins, but without him we are not able to-"
She paused before trailing off, her thoughtful face looking to Dillan for assistance.
"What the Administrator means to say is that we can't fend off this new brand of mercenary, at least not without a Jedi's help. But what we really want, is a deal with the Republic."
Where the Administrator was calm though severe in both her appearance as well as her manner of speaking, Dillan was more matter-of-fact and tired-of-this-shit. While Adare looked on imploringly, her expression nothing but diplomatic, Dillan stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing them all with a steady gaze.
"A deal?" Mission sighed, "Look, I'm no emissary. None of us are. We're just looking for-"
"You're just looking for what everyone else here is looking for - Jedi relics. Just because you're Republic doesn't change that. We happen to have said relics, which is information we don't entrust to just anybody."
"I don't follow," Zayne said, shaking his head, his gaze volleying between Dillan and the Administrator.
Dillan sighed and looked him dead on.
"Because you're Republic, you have something we need. Something more than just credits. So we are asking that you assist us in brokering a deal."
"A deal?" Zayne echoed, shaking his head as he approached the center of the room, "Listen, we're only here to follow through on the deal we had already planned, okay? We're not here to negotiate a new one. Not to mention the fact that we didn't get here early as a show of good faith. Not that we come in bad faith, so to speak, but do you know what happened to Nespis VIII?"
Neither Adare nor Dillan spoke, though they exchanged glances within a nanosecond before returning their attention to Mission and Zayne before them, Dillan's green eyes scanning Zaalbar's height for a moment as if she were doing some inner math before choosing her next words.
"There was news of a communications block out in the Outer Rim, if that's what you mean," Dillan said finally, though she sounded unconcerned. "I don't see what any of this has to do with-"
Zayne took another step forward, about to launch into another speech before Mission reached out and stopped him, her arm latching onto his elbow with a firm but gentle grip.
"What exactly is it that you want, hm? I can at least… I don't know, put in a good word, if that means anything to you."
Zayne said nothing, though a world of question blossomed on his face as he turned to face Mission. What are you doing?
Mission shrugged, hoping he got the 'Just follow my lead' gist she intended to go along with it. She wasn't about to drag these poor settlers into another Sith-related dispute after having clearly not gotten over the last one, and she hoped Zayne calmed down enough to realize that in the moments it took for Adare and Dillan to similarly negotiate amongst themselves in silence.
Adare nodded finally as Dillan shrugged, relenting.
"How good of a word?" she asked.
"I'll talk directly to the head of the acting Republic, good?" Mission ventured, trying to sound convincing. Judging by the look on Zayne's face and Asra's stifled laughter from over her shoulder, she had the feeling it wasn't.
"Prove it," Adare countered, "How do we know you're telling the truth?"
"How do we know you are?"
This time it was Asra who spoke, her hand on her holster, almost as if she were casually reminding their present company that danger could be had if necessary. The room was guarded, but barely. What passed for security around here was laughable, and it was because of that fact that Mission wanted to help. And it was also why she had a feeling they were telling the truth.
"If you care about the future of this planet, you should care about what happened at Space City," Mission said evenly, "And if you want me to 'broker a deal' as you say, then I'll need to see the goods. You already have a known agreement with my friend Zayne here, so you can trust us. I need to let our people know just how serious you are."
Both Asra and Zayne exchanged glances and nodded, Asra inching closer to Adare and Dillan as if demanding a response. Zaalbar said nothing, though he squared his shoulders as he placed a heavy hand on Mission's shoulder in solidarity.
Dillan rolled her eyes again, taking a step toward Asra before Adare held her back, her back straight as she looked the Togruta in the eye with nothing but seriousness. Just as Dillan paused, Adare nodded, closing her pale eyes as she did so, as if to sell the solemnity of it all.
"Fair enough," the Administrator muttered before signalling to the guards at the door, summoning them to her side. "Come with me."
She smiled a professional smile, if Mission ever saw one, and keyed an invisible panel behind one of the desks on the side wall next to her. One of the panels in the floor slid open, revealing a narrow set of stairs that led into the darkness.
"Is this the part where we're never seen or heard from again?" Asra whispered. Mission glanced at the woman and tried not to shrug, doing her best to evoke the gesture only with her eyes.
"We have people waiting on us, you know," Zayne said audibly into the room, catching Asra's drift and making it known that their absence would be of notice.
"This will only take a moment," Adare promised, Dillan appearing almost somber at her side while one of the guards joined them. Mission looked at everyone, her eyes meeting Zaalbar's eyes last before nodding, taking the first step forward into the darkness before her.
"Shall we?" she said through a tight smile.
Adare almost mirrored the gesture, but not quite, allowing the guard to lead them first before falling into step beside Mission.
"We already know you are acting on orders from Admiral Carth Onasi," the Administrator finally admitted with a hushed breath, "We just wanted to make sure you would make good on your promise, first."
Mission only looked at Adare through slitted eyes, sidelong, unsure of how to respond.
"Of course you did," she finally replied once they arrived at the bottom landing, their advance guard opening a lock after turning a corner and revealing what appeared to be an old vault. "What did the Matales use this for?"
"Money, I suppose," Adare said, "Though it was empty when we made a home of this place."
Adare entered the passcode on the panel beside the vault, careful to keep the sequence from Mission's eager eyes. The seal hissed as the door opened, allowing them passage.
"After you," Mission said, her smile still polite, still painful to keep up.
The room was dark. A terror gripped at Mission's insides as she watched the Khoonda guard enter the shadows, the darkness swallowing her whole. Moments passed before the lights flickered on one by one, weak and feeble even as Adare finally entered the room and beckoned that Mission follow.
"We hope the vault would be enough, but the lights are a last ditch effort at deterring anyone that might trespass here," the Administrator explained as she entered the room proper, turning around once she met the center to greet her guests. Mission felt Zaalbar return to her side, Asra hovering near the door in case they needed someone at the exit while Zayne entered the room without pause, wide eyes scanning the room.
"So this was salvaged from the Jedi Temple, when exactly?" Mission asked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
"It was secured sometime shortly after Darth Malak's attack," Dillan answered, "But it was housed elsewhere by the Jedi first."
"And how did this come into your possession?"
At this, Dillan and the Administrator exchanged glances.
"It exchanged hands before we were able to… to secure it," Adare said, unsure if secured was the right word even as she said it, "But I assure you that our ownership of these items were sanctioned by the singular Jedi I mentioned earlier. He also mentioned something peculiar, which might be of interest to you. He said that the collection was incomplete when it was first salvaged, as if someone had anticipated Darth Malak's attack and ensured the items be sheltered elsewhere."
Mission's eyes met Zayne's as if to ask did you know about this? But he only shrugged.
"We'll put in a word with the Republic," Zayne said swiftly, his eyes still locked with Mission's. Before she could silently ask what the hell he was doing, Zayne only nodded, silently affirming the importanct of whatever was stored here before he nonchalantly crossed his arms and turned to meet the gaze of the Administrator. "Or we can at least verbally support your claims regarding what you have in your possession, when you ask for-?"
Zayne paused, his face level with Adare's as he stared her down. "I don't think you've told us yet."
"We want Republic aid."
"Aid?"
"For all the Republic's talk of preserving the will of Jedi after Revan saved it, they've shown little support to us out here, or anyone else in this system. We want military support and economic sanctions. We need to rebuild. Malak's destruction wrought utter havoc on our farming communities and stalled all of our planet's exports, which has in turn seen to our complete lack of imports. We thought the Jedi would have returned by now, at least rebuilding the Temple enough to jumpstart travel, encouraging merchants to return to our docks. But you've noticed our makeshift port and complete lack of port authority. We simply do not have the manpower, nor the materials to reconstruct a proper port at all. We are in dire straits," Adare sighed at this, though managed to appear regal despite it, her posture never wavering as she looked Zayne in the eye, "It's time the Republic extend their good graces. Yes, the people here resent the Jedi, but I think the lack of government support following the disaster only allowed for that bitterness to grow. Did this planet only hold value because the Jedi once chose it as a refuge? The Jedi would not have survived had we not cultivated the land here. They supported us so long as we kept them fed, but now that they're gone and the planet ruined because one of their own turned on them is not our fault, so surely the Republic will see this. So long as we provide them with provisions, yes?"
No one spoke, the tension in the air thick enough to slice. Mission hadn't realized she'd not blinked during the entirety of Adare's speech, finding her eyes suddenly dry with the effort.
"Right... that," Mission responded, clearing her throat. "Like my friend Zayne said, we'll put in a word."
She wanted to promise more, knowing the woman had a point, feeling something akin to shame for being so closely affiliated with the Republic and with the Jedi yet not knowing how they operated or why, finding much at fault with both factions in her loss for words.
"A word?" Dillan tested, narrowing her eyes. "We need more than a word."
"That's all we can promise for the moment, despite our wishes as well as yours," Mission shrugged, though her voice was sharp with agitation, "Even if we wanted to do more, we couldn't. All I know is that I have access to communications with those in highest command, and all I can assure you is an audience with them. From what you've said, I'll wager you haven't a chance at getting half as close, so those are our terms. Take it or leave it."
"Show me," Adare said, squaring her shoulders, "I don't just want a promise. Put me face-to-face with your contact, then we have a deal."
Zayne simply nodded at Mission, resigning, knowing that arguing would get them nowhere.
"Fine," she said, sighing, knowing Carth wouldn't be happy. It was nice to think she and Big Z had it easy, cruising the galaxy at their leisure without ever having to answer for what it was they were doing for the Republic or for the Jedi, let alone why. But now, she felt just as much the tool as those standing before her demanding answers.
And quite frankly, Mission wanted answers, too.
3955 BBY, Outer Rim
Eden Valen
It was nice, being dead to the Force, an interloper in a world full of life. Death followed wherever she went, so she decided to chase it, to clean up after it. Might as well do some good for all the bad she wrought, for all the mess Revan started and only sought to leave behind when her glory faded.
It was nice not to dream, to slip into a calm nothingness the moment her eyes closed to eventually wake up come morning, feeling well-rested for once in her life. It was strange being alive, like anyone else, oblivious to the machinations of the galaxy around her. She did not deserve it, but she came to appreciate the smaller things. The warmth of a cup of tea. The feel of the wind weaving through her hair. The heat of suns, the cool of night.
And there were no strings attached, no feelings, no visions. Only her.
3951 BBY, Peragus Mining Facility
Atton
"Where were you two nights ago?" a voice echoed in on itself inside his mind.
Before, there had been blissful nothingness, but now the intrusive presence of something was disrupting whatever inner calm Atton had managed to achieve for what might have been the first time in his waking life.
"E-excuse me?" he said eventually, slurring his words.
Two nights ago. Atton didn't even know when now was, let alone what had happened two nights prior.
"Where were you two standard days ago?" the voice repeated as Atton's vision still swam, light slowly swirling into his world of mostly-black. He tried to fight it, yearning for sleep, already missing the unending blackness of nonexistence. His head killed him, now, as if a plasma torch were searing into his forehead.
Atton could feel himself swerve, still not in control of his body, his torso leaning too far right before - "Ah, shit!"
The metaphorical plasma in his mind manifested in the real, singing his forehead as he made contact, and when he did his senses jolted awake. His memory crashed back to his consciousness and Atton now knew he was no longer in the medbay but instead propped upright in a force cage in the security bunker. The room was blurry beyond the cage, but he remembered it from his first formal tour of the place, thinking he'd do his damnedest not to end up here.
"I said, where were you two nights ago?"
Atton now recognized his antagonist as Rostek Vet, the ever-annoyed Peragus security officer, his thick brows furrowed as he leaned close towards Atton, his hard features only blurred by the white-orange of the active cage.
"How long have I been here?" Atton asked, for starters, doing his best to hold Vet's gaze with conviction before he let the roiling nausea threatening to course through him from taking over.
"You haven't answered my question."
"Quit it, Vet," another voice said, "This is pointless. We know he was in the intensive care unit."
Atton's gaze moved left, settling on a man he did not recognize. Vision still swimming, Atton could make out an odd pair of goggles set atop the man's head, somewhat taming the shock of orange hair that seemed to be fighting gravity itself to stand on end.
"Shut up!" Vet muttered, turning to Atton again, "You were the only one in the ward when it happened. Tell me what you saw."
"When what happened?" Atton asked, growing cold as the realization set in, the weight of the details hitting him before his memory came back in full. The droid, the drugs…
"When the entire ward was-"
"Shut up, Vet!" the other man said. As his vision returned, Atton saw that the man sported the coveralls of the station mechanics. The goggles made sense now. "If he knows anything he'll say so. If he's guilty then we're just feeding him more information than he needs to know, and accusing him of-"
"I'd say we're beyond petty accusations if you've already shoved me into this force cage," Atton uttered, trying his best to steady his nerves, "I was drugged, if anyone would believe it, or if my medical records say as much. Put to sleep so I wouldn't see exactly whatever it is you're talking about."
Vet pursed his lips while the mechanic gestured vaguely in the air, as if to say See?
"You just returned from annual leave," Vet continued, leaning closer, "The register here says you brought something back with you. What was that, exactly?"
"A new pair of boots," Atton sighed, "And a jacket."
"It wouldn't happen to be this jacket, would it?"
Vet slammed his fist on the force cage, deactivating the force field long enough for him to throw the lump of leather that was Atton's jacket at his unsuspecting face. Just as it made contact, Vet hit the console again, the plasma buzzing back into high gear.
Atton wanted to laugh if it weren't for his throbbing headache. Of all the things Peragus security could have confiscated from his bunk, they chose this - his ribbed jacket, the one item he'd collected on his travels that he seemed to like and for no particular reason other than that it was weird and it made him feel taller, somehow. He'd picked it up at a refugee lost-and-found back on Nar Shaddaa, before he'd even chosen the name Atton. It was a pitiful thing. It didn't even have sleeves. But it fit the bill, for the moment, keeping his torso warm when nothing else he'd owned managed to do the job. It was likely stitched out of some form of leather now banned on most inner-rim planets, but Atton didn't care.
"Actually, no."
"Well, it tested positive for active charges," Vet said, the agitation increasing in his tone of voice with every syllable, "Can you explain that?"
The thing had withstood laser blasts and plasma shields galore, it was no wonder the thing tested positive for anything. Atton wouldn't be surprised if it had carried a virus or two when he first acquired it.
"What am I being accused of here, exactly?" Atton said, shouldering the jacket on. He was cold, not that the vest-masquerading-as-a-jacket would do much, much as it had back in Hutt space.
"I'm wondering that myself," the mechanic muttered, glaring at Vet. "This isn't helping us, Vet. Every second we waste here with this… this guy, is another second wasted not protecting this damn facility."
"Will you just-?!"
Before Vet could ramble on again, a siren wailed, cutting him off and making the throbbing in Atton's head a thousand times worse.
"See?!" the mechanic pleaded, "Disaster strikes again. And all while this guy's been in our custody."
"My custody."
Vet stood now to join the pacing maintenance officer, his eyes never leaving Atton's, his brow furrowing even more if it were possible.
"We're not done here," he said through gritted teeth, "Believe you me."
With that, Vet walked to the other side of the room, slapping a palm against the door panel while his eyes remained on Atton's, knowing he was guilty somehow despite the mounting evidence. And the worst thing was, he was right.
The frenzy of the station outside his holding cell sent a shiver down Atton's spine, and he couldn't shake the undeniable feeling that came with it - death. He thought of the explosion in the rec hallway, the kolto tanks in the medbay, and the unnerving emptiness of the ICU before that droid put him to sleep…
"You might need this," the mechanic said, still lingering in the room as Atton combed through his thoughts, his nausea calming to a low simmer as he slowed his breathing, "I'll work on contacting the medbay for whatever it is you're supposed to be prescribed, but for now I think you could at least do with a hot meal."
He opened the force cage to hand Atton a warm bowl of something, Atton wasn't sure what it was but was too famished to care. Their eyes met as the bowl passed between them - the mechanic's eyes an unusual aquamarine for a human - and Atton nodded in thanks.
The mechanic waited until the bowl was safely set in Atton's hands before enacting the plasma shield again, lightyears more courteous than Vet would ever be.
"I imagine it won't be much longer," he said, as much to Atton as to himself. "Either they'll figure this all out or they'll finally issue an order to evacuate."
The mechanic shot Atton a tight smile, an expression Atton would not have returned even if it weren't for the bowl of warm soup he had currently pressed to his lips. They both knew neither of those things would happen, but it was nice to think it might.
"Yeah, sure," Atton muttered after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, settling the bowl beside him haphazardly as he looked to the mechanic again. "Hey, before you go-"
Atton stood, though he wasn't sure it was totally necessary. The mechanic watched on, his eyes wide with surprise at first before he settled back into his put-upon polite smile, in an effort to calm Atton as much as he assumed.
"I did see an odd droid in the medbay. At least… I think I did."
"Oh?" the man rounded on him now, true surprise coloring his face, "What kind of droid?"
"Protocol, I think."
The mechanic pursed his lips before nodding curtly.
"Thanks, I'll look into it." The mechanic stood, his expression only wavering slightly as he walked to the door, though Atton could see the denial taking shape behind his eyes. "I'll be back with those meds."
He shot Atton a reassuring glance as he walked out into the mayhem beyond the security office door, weaving between hurried officers before disappearing into the hallway as the door closed behind him.
Atton sighed, wondering if he'd ever live to see those meds.
3951 BBY, Dantooine Outback
Erebus
It was one thing returning to Dantooine after all these years - after turning away from the Jedi, to see the planet in such distress, the landscape so utterly changed - but it was another thing entirely to return to Dantooine with companions. One old and one new.
Erebus had traveled alone for the better part of the last eight years, often reveling in his own company, grateful there was never a need to fill the silence with anything other than his own thoughts. But even now as he stood out on the plains, or whatever passed for plains now that the land was either scorched or overgrown, he could not soak in the scene without feeling the presence of someone at his back, brimming with questions.
Seeing Master Vash, here again of all places, was like something out of a dream. Or a nightmare. Part of her was still so familiar to him. She was almost just as she was when he was a boy, though greyed around the edges, and kinder now - though he didn't deserve it.
"What happened here was a travesty," Mical said as he joined Erebus up on the ridge, as if he were some intrepid explorer being asked a question that had not already been answered by Republic news circuits the galaxy over since Malak destroyed the place five years ago.
"Yeah, shame," Erebus muttered, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.
"Not a bad job landing, considering this isn't even a landing pad," Mical said, ignoring Erebus' response and flashing him a polite smile. Wavy blond hair already whipping wildly in the afternoon breeze, Mical brought a hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun, if only to hold his expression steady as he stared at Erebus head-on, aggressive in his niceness, if anything.
"Well, landing on uncharted planets can teach you quite a bit about the limits of landing gear," Erebus sighed, "This? This was nothing."
"I'd like to hear about that sometime, if you've a mind," Mical said, the look in his eyes as earnest as he sounded, "About the uncharted planets, I mean. Out on the edges of the Outer Rim, I take it?"
Erebus nodded, still surveying the area, ignoring Mical and his cerulean eyes as best as his attentions would allow.
"The Outer Rim and the fringes of the Unknown Regions, somewhat," he tried not to sound pleased by the man's earnest interest, warmed that anyone other than Nihilus would express interest, and Erebus had a feeling Mical had no intention of seeking out artifacts for the selfish purpose of living forever, "Not passed the cluster, though. This ship couldn't handle it."
"Unfortunate," Mical said, finally turning from Erebus to survey the valley along with him, "I wonder what's out there."
"Me, too."
Erebus hazarded a sidelong glance at Mical, this time allowing himself the time to pause. His blond hair shone gold in the sunlight, the system's star high overhead now, the gleam cradling his silhouette like a flaxen halo.
Erebus wasn't sold on the whole companion thing, tenuous as their alliances were, but he had to admit he wasn't entirely against it either.
"You weren't surprised," Erebus said, deadpan, the thought nearly falling out of his head as it slipped past his lips.
"Surprised?" Mical stared back at him, perplexed behind his cerulean blue eyes, a flaxen brow furrowed.
"About the prospect of the Sith. About me, about my Master."
"I had a feeling who you might be-" Mical started but Erebus cut him off.
"What was it, the garb? Do only Sith wear dark colors now?" Erebus laughed, "I wore black back on Coruscant, though my Jedi Master at the time detested it. Perhaps that's why she decided to don all white… but I won't take credit for that."
Despite the jest still clear on his face, Erebus smiled inwardly, remembering a time when Atris still wore shades of beige and blue. Why are you always wearing black now? She'd say, meaning to offend him somehow by stating the obvious. Erebus would cite the old ways, stating that Jedi did not always adhere to strict codes of dress, but Atris would scoff before letting him finish, simply turning her nose up at this choice of dress on days she chose not to mention it.
Mical only sighed.
"There are more than just the Jedi and the Sith. I know that as much as you," Mical brushed a stray strand of golden hair from his face. "But perhaps the rest of the galaxy has yet to catch up."
"Evidently," Erebus conceded, "Though I guess in my musings I've truly revealed myself then, yes?"
It was all out in the open. It felt strange saying it, and to a Republic officer no less.
"I suppose so," Mical said, inching nearer. He paused a few feet away from Erebus but close enough for his scent to reach him, a warm musk Erebus knew well from combing the archive stacks, the smell of stagnant air and old paper where it could still be found. But there was another scent too, brighter and more vibrant - citrus, perhaps. "But I guess I knew they existed; the Sith I mean. I believed Draay's suspicions, and with what happened at Katarr…"
Mical needn't say more. Erebus only nodded.
"Still. Odd, isn't it?"
He was talking more to himself now, a past self, a self that had been so sure of the Jedi, so sure that the Sith were defeated, that they had vanished with Qun and Qel-Droma. And yet… here he stood. In Revan's wake, but also somehow in spite of it.
"How safe do you figure this is?" Erebus said, now directing his words at Vash who was still sitting in the midst of the glen, meditating. "Wasn't the threat of what happened at Katarr exactly why the Jedi went into hiding, what few remained going underground to weather the coming storm? Why face it head on now? Why trust me when I could lead them right to you?"
Vash's meditation did not falter. Sitting cross-legged, she sat hovering a modest half-meter from the mossy earth, only descending after a few minute's contemplation. As if floating on water, Vash lowered herself to the ground, and with an unending patience Erebus had never once recalled feeling himself, Vash stood, fixing her cloak and hood, patting the cloth of her pants free of morning dew, before she finally spoke.
"Or you could lead us to them."
It was then that Vash opened her eyes - truly opened them. She crossed the swath of grass that spanned the cliff, walking slowly towards Erebus, her eyes boring into him, seeing more than just his appearance but sensing him as well, testing how the Force moved around him, listening to how it whispered.
"And I know that because you said it yourself, back on your ship as well as here, now. You have a loyalty to the Sith ideology, to Sith individualism, but not to the Master who gave you the rank you bear. Knowing who you had been, once, I know you are loyal to your interests before you are loyal to people, and as little as my vision will tell me, I have a feeling you'll be interested in seeing where this particular trail leads."
Vash did not blink, her brown eyes almost silver in the grey morning light as her gaze moved from Erebus to the sky, as if watching for a sign.
"Something about this, the sky, the pattern of the clouds-" Vash shook her head, several silvered strands loosening from the bun at her neck to frame her face, "I saw this in my vision, parts of it, but the more time passes the more details slip through my fingers. The faster we get to the Jedi Temple, the better."
She locked eyes with Erebus for a moment, knowing passing through their gaze before she looked towards the hills behind her. She knew we might crash, he thought, thinking back to his haphazard landing. She'd seen it. A possibility, the future always in motion. He swallowed hard, keeping his face free of emotion.
"If we head to the Temple now, we can head off the mercenaries-"
"Mercenaries?" This time it was Mical who cut in as he took a few steps toward her. "Like the ones at the Temple on Nespis?"
Vash shook her head again.
"I don't know, by the looks of them they could be anyone. Mercenaries aren't hard to come by in the Outer Rim, but knowing what we encountered there they very well could be."
"If the Golden Company has anything to do with the recent heists other than the one we nearly witnessed, then I want to get to the bottom of it," Mical affirmed, squaring his shoulders. "We should get ahead of them if we can, we should-"
"What about the cargo though?" Erebus interrupted, his eyes now fixed on what he could see of his ship through the trees, "We can't just leave it here. Especially if anyone might be after it."
It felt strange to say, coming from him, especially since he knew quite personally that if anyone wanted to own this particular piece of Jedi history it was him. There was hardly anything stopping him from taking it. What did he care about some nobody historian and an old Jedi Master, a woman he hardly knew anymore? He could just take it, leave them both stranded here on the edge of the Outer Rim, desperate for passage off this sad grassy rock while he hurdled back into space, back to - where, exactly? Ah, yes. That.
"We take it with us," Vash said, still looking at the distant hills, as if already carving out their route, "For now."
For now.
"But we'll be back as the Force wills it. And then we can leave."
Vash only looked at Erebus as she said this, a shiver running down his spine. Mical did not seem to notice. The man only nodded, so used to taking orders and following them, before disappearing into the cargo hold to retrieve the damn thing. Erebus had a pack he knew would help in the transport of the satchel, but he waited, wanting this moment alone with Vash before following Mical to offer his help.
"Will he be alright?" he found himself asking, despite the myriad of questions that circled his mind in truth. Vash's mouth formed a thin smile, though it didn't meet her eyes.
"He will be."
Erebus watched her, nodding after a moment before heading back into the ship as well.
"Better off than me, I take it," he said as a joke, both in jest to Vash as well as at the expense of her Jedihood, at what had become of him despite his training. But the look on her face told Erebus that he was all too right. Only time would tell if he would regret it.
3951 BBY, Peragus Mining Facility
Vale; Eden Valen
First there was nothing. The blissful black of nonbeing, memory dissolving, dissolving, dissolving until there was nothing left. Only unending quiet enveloped in the softness of oblivion, empty and absolving.
And then there was light.
A star shattered into being, dust and shimmering shadow adding shape to the nothingness. Undulating, it unfolded, expanded, and burst into a brightness that was all-eclipsing. And then… she woke.
And the Force woke with her.
