Unite Descent: A Siri Tachi Tale

by WavesBlade

(Dark/Sith Siri Tachi AU) 39 BBY, Darth Sidious discovers a Jedi mission to protect a young genius, Talesan Fry. After receiving a vision of a new, stronger apprentice, he sends young Maul after the boy. Watching from the shadows, he saw his apprentice kill a Jedi Master, and a padawan fall and kill his apprentice. Taking in the fallen Jedi, he begins to mold her in his image...

11. First Fracture

Chapter 11: First Fracture

---

Note: Since it never tells us the name of the Planet Siolo is on, I'm changing Jentares from the System to the Planet.

---

Hope or Death | Light or Dark | Rise or Descend | Potential or Danger | Change...

On and on the Force sang to Siolo Ur Manka in ways it hadn't since his time as an active duty Jedi Master, perhaps not even then. It left him... not uneasy, but wary. Something was going to happen, was coming, and he was at the center of it. He looked down into a puddle next to where he was meditating at the foot of a giant tree on Jentares. His aged green face looked out at him in the reflection; so old and wrinkly. He had came to this planet closing in on a century ago as he entered his older Twi'Lek years to find peace until the Force claimed him.

It would seem the Force had other ideas.

He was far past his prime, but still considered himself one of the best the Jedi Order had to offer. Not out of arrogance or pride, but out of experience. Yet... he closed his eyes and knelt down, falling into a meditation. Rapid images assaulted him, of himself and... someone, a dark blur, sitting at a campfire, not fighting, simply talking quietly. Days shifted into nights over and over again; the dark blur changed as time went on, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, within it an immense battle for a lost soul was fought. The vision shifted back, further and further, from the ground, to the trees, to the sky, to space, to the entire galaxy, brightening and darkening as the dark blur did.

He slowly opened his eyes as day became dusk; what was coming was not a conflict to be won with his skill with a staff nor the Force. Beyond that, the Force's warning was clear. Whatever happened was going to affect the fate of the Galaxy...

He sighed. "I am far to old for this..."

---

Roughly a week later, when night began to fall as he was tending to his garden outside his secluded hand-built cabin, he felt eyes on him. He did not pause, nor give any indication he was aware of it. He simply kept on weeding, checking his vegetables for ripeness, plucking those that were ready and setting them into a clay bowl. He moved to his unlit campfire, grabbing flint and tinder he always left there, and set about igniting it to start a stew.

His aged hands turned the vegetables in his hand, peeling away the outer skins before letting them drop into a water filled bucket kept over the campfire. He let it begin to simmer to a boil before going back inside and to his cellar for a bit of preserved meat to toss in. He returned and did so before sitting down to wait.

The feeling of eyes on him never left while he was outside. He closed his eyes and let himself take in his surroundings. Not probing for anything specific, but just taking in the Living Force around him. He could detect... fear, anger and uncertainty. Yet also hope and determination. Underneath that... as if shoved and buried down, shame and guilt.

What an odd mixture.

He made no move to acknowledge or seek out whoever was watching him, nor let them know he was aware. He ate his dinner and retired for the night, the sensation of being watched fading away. He did not sleep, at least not right aware, allowing a few hours to pass to see if someone would try to sneak in. When nothing happened, he let himself lightly drift off, trusting the Force to alert him of potential danger...

---

The eyes came back the following day, and the day after that, always watching, but never approaching. Siolo pondered it, while he was patient, perhaps he should give an invitation? That night, when he fished his stew out, he grabbed a second clay bowl, filled it, and set it at the other side of the campfire.

There was a brief stirring of surprise, and then chagrin along with self-reproach. But no one came out of the surrounding forest. Still... he left the bowl out, as a peace offering, not to mention whoever it was had to be hungry, the eyes had hardly left him all day.

Come morning, the bowl was empty. Siolo smiled softly and shook his head, bemused, picking the bowl up to clean later. That night, he made the same offering, this time, with results. There was an air of hesitancy in the area, a roiling of fear, so much fear; whoever it was, they were afraid of him. It left him at a loss; he never wanted anyone to feel that kind of fear towards him.

Slowly, a figure came into the campfire light; he caught sight of a black robe, hood drawn, and his heart sank. No servant of the light wore anything like that. And this close... while whoever this was kept their presence impressively masked (but oddly not their emotions), Siolo could feel the Dark Side emanating from them. He kept his reaction hidden, and instead made a motion to the bowl. There was a brief flare of hope from the figure, before they sat down opposite of him, and grabbed the bowl, slowly beginning to eat.

The Dark One had not attacked him, so he would not attack them.

He studied it briefly before returning to his own food. The figure was slim and somewhat short. That either limited it down to certain races, or perhaps someone young and not fully grown. He was not rude and did not attempt to probe the figure with the Force, and instead contemplated the array of emotions he felt. Judging from the lack of control... someone young then. And, if he had to guess, recently fallen. Perhaps a former Padawan. Why come to him though?

"Have you a name young one?" he asked.

The figure paused, and he squinted, catching sight of a pale and smooth neck, an adams apple bobbing nervously; so a human then.

"Iris," a young female voice answered.

Her answer rang... somewhat false, perhaps incomplete in the Force. She did not either trust to give her true name, or her full name, it was hard to tell which with her shielding. "I assume you already know who I am if you sought me out."

"Master Siolo Ur Manka," she answered.

He slowly shook his head. "I haven't been a master in a very long time young one, in over seventy years. Which, begs the question, why have you come to an old man like me?"

She didn't respond right away, taking a few bites and swirling around her soup; he didn't need the Force to know her anxiety. "I... I need help."

Siolo paused his own eating. "In what regard?"

"I don't... I don't want to be like this anymore." she whispered, loss overtaking her voice, "But... I... can't find the light."

Siolo closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "I see."

He had helped his fair share of lost Padawans back onto the right path. But there was a world of difference between them and her. They had merely dabbled in the Dark Side, perhaps given into a fit of rage and anger once, or suffered a great loss, not truly lost themselves. They merely needed a bit of guidance to find their way home. This one however? She was firmly wrapped in the Dark Side; she was Fallen, and those like her never found their way back. Or rather...

He could never once recall any of them trying.

It made him wary of a trap of some kind. And yet... his visions from last week echoed in his mind. If he turned her away, there would be no hope for the child. If she was honest in why she was here, then he recognized why she had come to a secluded retired Master. He was more than aware the general policy for those who had Fallen; if she had returned to the Jedi Order, she would be isolated and imprisoned in a Force Suppressing Cell in the depths of the Temple. The Council was rarely lenient in such things, and while her seeking out help might have been looked on favorably, she was still Fallen. She had done things to warrant the darkness clinging to her.

Bound to a cell for the rest of her life; stripped of the Force; or having a Jedi watchdog for the remainder of her days. None of those prospects would be appealing to someone like her.

He reached for the Force, asking guidance, but all he received were whispers of what it had sang to him before. He rubbed his chin slowly, mulling over the request before he came to a decision. Retired or not. He was still a Jedi, he could not turn away those in need.

"What you seek is something I am not sure I can give," he stated honestly, watching her head droop in resignation, "It is not something that has happened since the days of the Old Republic, during the wars with the Sith, and even then was an extreme rarity."

She looked up at him, surprise echoing around her. "So... it is possible?"

"Perhaps," he said, "But... in general, it required an immense will of those that wished to return, and the aid of those who cared."

Her lips turned thin, displeased, scorn emanating from her. "Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."

Definitely Temple born and a Fallen Padawan then. "Hmm, Master Yoda is quite set in his ways. It is however far easier to simply not fall then claw one's way back."

Iris went silent for a moment before asking quietly, "You're not talking about Revan, are you? Does it really count if his mind was wiped? That who he was, was ripped apart by the Jedi at that time?"

Siolo could admit, he was impressed. "You are well versed on your history young one. But no, Revan was not the first, nor the last to turn from the Dark Side. Albeit as you implied, the method used on him left much to be desired."

"You don't agree with what was done?" she asked, curious.

"Who you are as a person, is a sacred thing," said Siolo solemnly, "To take that away from someone, to strip them down and remake them to your liking, is an abhorrent action, something I will never agree with."

It took him a moment to get a grasp on the flurry of emotions emanating from her. Surprise followed by confusion and bafflement, at him, slowly morphing and settling into respect. "How would you have handled Revan then?"

Siolo slowly shook his head. "I could say what I think I would do, however, I wont. Because, placing one's self into an impossible situation and saying how you would act or what you would do is foolish young one. One cannot know the answer, nor their true self, unless they live it themselves."

He gave her a wry smile. "In doing so I avoid placing unreasonably high expectations on myself."

He caught a hint of a hesitant smile in the campfire-light. "Live within the moment huh?"

He merely dipped back into his soup rather than answer.

Her caught sight of her smile fading, a hint of melancholy tinting the air. "I knew a Master like that once. I didn't really like him, always came off as harsh, so stuck in his own ways, but he meant the world to Obi... his padawan."

"It is a weakness of those in-tune with the Living Force," admitted Siolo, "We focus so much on the here and now that sometimes we lose focus of the consequences of our actions or attitude that come later on."

She stared at him with an... odd look; an air of nostalgia around her; it prompted him to ask, "Is something wrong with what I said?"

"No," she answered, "Just... it's felt like a long time since I've had a Jedi teach me."

The nostalgia faded, and something dark took it's place. "Even rarer for me to see a Master admit such a fault. So many were simply stuck in their own ways and refused to adapt."

The Force roiled around them hungrily. "Complacent, blind to the suffering below their very feet as they sit up in their lofty temple..."

Siolo went still, wary of the Dark Side emanating from the girl. Yet... there was a remnant of honesty in her words. They reeked of the Dark, yes, yet were empowered by something she viewed as the truth. "How do you mean?"

She refocused and pinned him with a hard stare, blue eyes gleaming out from under her hood. "Did you ever go into the lower levels of Coruscant?"

Siolo tilted his head back in though. "Hmm... it has been some time..."

A wry smile crossed his face. "I may have participated in illegal swoop races a few times in my rebellious youth. Aside from that, most of my time as a Jedi was spent on missions, training my padawans, or instructing classes. I can't say that I frequented the lower levels, and if I did, forgive my memory, it has been over half a century for me."

She stared at him silent for a moment. There was a harshness in her eyes, condemnation, yet, she hesitated to speak. Instead, he felt her stretch out with the Force. Every instinct he had demanded he bat away her mental presence as she tapped against his shields. Yet... what he did instead would have left many master's at the temple speechless and shocked. He lowered them and let her in. Her eyes widened briefly in surprise and confusion, but those emotions faded as the hardness returned. She pushed a memory to him, of herself walking the streets of the lower levels.

Siolo's eyes glazed as he watched, focusing on where her eyes lingered and what drew her attention and spiked her anger. Ah... he understood.

"The Jedi don't have the numbers to right every wrong in the Galaxy," Siolo said softly.

She scowled at him. "Did they even try?"

"Did you?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She recoiled as if struck, eyes widening, then guilt and shame poured out of her. "No... not when I was a Jedi. I... didn't know."

She scowled. "But... it's not an excuse for me any more than it is for the Jedi."

Siolo cocked his head, studying her through the campfire light. He had noted how she continually separated herself and distanced herself from the Jedi. It was not uncommon at all for those who had fallen to do so. Yet, it would make this difficult. Well... only if she wished to return to the Jedi afterwards, as she appeared to harbor resentment towards them. Which made her coming here curious. Why seek out a Jedi if she disliked them? There were other Light organizations in the Galaxy after all, such as the Whills, or even those who leaned Gray like the Gray Paladins, whom Siolo thought might actually be more suited for this task. Their lack of dependency on the Force and more militant lifestyle could encourage less reliance on the Force, in this case the Dark Side, and grow enough discipline to keep it in check.

Then again, if they had gotten one whiff of the Dark Side through her shields they might simply have taken her for a threat and killed her immediately before she had the chance to explain herself. It was hard to say.

Regardless... he felt at a loss to how he personally would even begin to help this child. He thought again of his vague visions, of days and nights passing while he and the Fallen Padawan would simply speak at the campfire. Perhaps... yes, perhaps... he simply need to hear, to listen, offer understanding, and perhaps show her a different path.

"How would you solve the problem of poverty and crime within lower Coruscant? Within all the Republic?" he asked, carefully phrasing his tone to seem like an honest question, rather than a challenge.

That seemed to catch Iris offguard. She didn't immediately answer, and didn't speak for another good ten minutes until she finished slowly eating her food. "Taxes."

"Taxes?" he asked.

"...and proper use of government money," she said proudly, as if the concept was one of her greatest achievements, and not something every critic of any government said, "Add a small tax that everyone can afford pay, and use it to set up shelters or fund efforts to relocate and find people jobs. There are trillions of people in the Republic, a few credit increase to the taxes they pay would hardly be noticeable, but would be huge in amount when fully collected. You could fund so many different efforts to help people who need it. And how many government programs are badly mismanaged? Or a complete waste of time? And do Senators REALLY need the absurd amount of money they make? All of that put into it's proper place would be a big start to fixing poverty."

Siolo tilted his head in acknowledgement before smiling, "I'd be entertained to see you tell a Senator they don't need the money they make."

Iris threw up her hands and took a mocking voice, "'Oh no! Not my precious money! I'll sell you my firstborn child and my soul but don't cut my paycheck!'"

Siolo allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips, which earned a hesitant smile from Iris.

"And what of crime?" he asked.

Her smile immediately warped into something harsh, the dark murmuring around her in the Force. "Criminals should be punished. Petty criminals aren't worth the effort, put them to work and they'll sort themselves out. But murders? Rapists? Terrorists? Slavers? People who hurt others because they take enjoyment from it, and all their ilk..."

She opened her mouth to continue, but paused, a wavering of guilt echoing in the Force around her. Ah... she wasn't as far gone as to not realize she most likely fell at least into the first category. There was no way she hadn't killed with the darkness that seeped around her. It was good that she understood that.

"Everyone deserves the chance to seek forgiveness and redemption," said Siolo softly.

Iris's tirade dropped off, and she grew quieter, but still harsh. "Perhaps... but, only if they actually seek it, if they actually want it. If they make no effort to change, then they need to be locked up or wiped out if their efforts aren't for the greater good of the Galaxy."

The greater good? Oh wasn't he familiar with that phrase. "The greater good is a concept I personally find distasteful."

Iris's hood swerved and locked onto him in surprise. "What?"

"I dislike it because of how many people I have witnessed in my life evoking that phrase to attempt in justify committing horrible atrocities," said Siolo, "Those words, 'For the Greater Good' are a trap to any who hear and use them because of one simple fact. Do you know what it is?"

Iris seemed uneasy, disturbed, and with a tint of anger that if he was right in what he felt, was directed at him for challenging this belief. "What?"

"Everyone has a different notion of what 'the Greater Good' is," he answered, "One person's Greater Good is another person's personal nightmare. You will never find two people who agree on it's definition, nor what should and should not be done 'For the Greater Good'. Some people don't even use it as a validation of their actions, but as a cover for intentionally causing harm when they know full well there is no good in their actions."

That seemed to stop the girl short. "That's..."

She seemed to shrink in on herself, guilt roiling the air around. "T-that's probably true..."

"It took me a long time to understand that concept young one," he said, softening his voice, "Many more years than you've been alive. It is good that you find understanding of it now, rather than years down the road."

She nodded a little, barely catchable in the moonlight.

And speaking of moonlight. "I believe that this is where we will stop for tonight."

The girl looked up at him, so much doubt in the air, targeted at herself. "Why...?"

He pointed upward. "It's getting rather late, and as much as I enjoy our conversation, I am an old man. I need my rest."

She smiled a little at that, a bit relieved. "Oh."

So quick to doubt herself that one. Did she think he wanted to stop and turn her away just from what she had said? He had, frankly, heard worse from those firmly attached to the light, who wanted strict structure and order forced upon the entire galaxy. Perhaps it might prevent crime, poverty, and so much conflict and loss. But at the cost of free will? It was never the right price.

He let go of his musings, turning an offer in his mind over, but did not force it, merely presenting the option, "If you have nowhere else to sleep, I can set up a guest room if you so wish."

There was hesitancy and just a tad of suspicion in the air around her. "I... have my ship to sleep on."

He made no further comment of the offer. "As you wish then, I will see you tomorrow. Good night Iris."

She hesitated, yet again, before offering a quiet, "Good night Master Ur Manka."

He sighed in a fond way he often reserved for insolent padawans. "I haven't been a master in almost a century young one."

She didn't respond to that, merely slipping into the shadows back to wherever her ship was hidden...

---

Siolo felt her eyes upon him most of the next day, but she did not approach until nightfall when he set out soup for her. "Good evening Iris."

"Good evening Master Ur Manka," she said quietly.

He gave a soft, exasperated sigh reminiscent of their last parting. "I told you yesterday, I haven't been a Master in a very long time. Siolo will do."

There was a hint of a mischievous smile through the firelight and a tint of guilty pleasure through the Force. "Of course Master Ur Manka."

Oh, he saw how it was. This one liked riling people up did she? He shook his head, allowing a bemused smile to cross his face. He chose to let the comment stand, instead he simply stared into the firelight and ate slowly. They both did, and when they finished, they merely looked into the the flickering flames for a time. He again pondered her request, to help guide her back to the light. Merely talking wasn't going to fully bring her back, perhaps it would continue to dispel some of the darker notions and ideas she had allowed to fester in the mind, but that was merely one step, one act.

When she would need so much more.

"Do you remember meditation?" he inquired.

She looked up at him, and he could see a bit of crinkling in her face under her hood to suggest she was narrowing her eyes at him. her voice offended. "Of course I remember."

"Shall we try?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's pointless. That's one of the first things I tried when I fell, but it didn't work."

She grew bitter. "The Light wanted nothing to do with me anymore."

"I doubt that," he said softly, earning a sensation of scorn from her through the Force, "But for one who has fallen, I doubt you can reach for the light as you once did. It most likely requires another approach."

A frown played across what was visible of her face. "Like what?"

"If it was known, returning from the Dark Side would not be considered an impossibility," he said simply.

She scoffed. "Right, well, you have any ideas?"

"Not at the moment, I merely wish for us to meditate so I can see how you try," he asked.

Iris sighed and grumbled, "Fine."

She shifted into a kneeling position, he followed suit, the pair separated by the softly cackling fire. It was... one of the strangest sensations he had ever felt, to have two Force users, one light and one dark, try to meditate together. The Force rippled around them, shifting and swirling between dark and light, high and low, trying to find equilibrium, trying to find...

Balance...?

Siolo frowned, slightly confused by a curious, almost childlike whisper from the Force, as if it were questioning what they were trying to achieve. He shook it off and focused his attention on Iris. She was trying to quiet and calm her mind, but hints of thoughts and memories continually flickered through. She did not so much as reach for the Force as she did try to grab and drag it to her. There was also the fact she wasn't really lowering her shields and allowing him to really help. She struggled for a few more minutes until her frustration and irritation broke what little concentration she had.

"Like I said," she spat, "It's worthless."

"Not quite," he said, "You are not reaching for the Force the same way a Jedi normally would."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You are not reaching for the Force young one, you are grabbing it, trying to force it to come to you," he said.

Bewilderment crossed what little of her face he could see. "What? No I'm not. I'm reaching for it how I always used to."

"Do you feel that I am lying?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

Iris reached out with the Force, getting a feel for him, and then grow silent. She said nothing for a good long few minutes, he could feel surprise rolling off her, a bit of shock, then resignation. "No wonder I couldn't do it. I didn't even... how am I supposed to have a chance if my own perception is so warped I can't feel the difference?"

Siolo wondered how many in the history of the Jedi had the chance to do this, to get down into the nitty gritty details of trying to bring someone back? Because her words took him by surprise in more ways than one. That someone fallen could acknowledge and see that they had been changed by the Dark Side and actually care about it rather than revel in it, was abnormal. Most, in his experience, would go on and on about 'the power of the Dark Side' and refuse to even consider returning, or think it was to late for them to do so even if they wanted to. In general Fallen were either hostile or to afraid to interact in the manner the two of them were currently. Then, there was finding out that it actually changed one's perception like that. Of course the Dark Side changed people, but the general assumption was that those fallen became so addicted to power that they didn't care about trying to return, that it destroyed who they were as a person, afflicting their soul with some kind of blight that turned them into a monster. Not that their perception was directly altered, like a parasite altering it's host to better suit it. It was an enlightening discovery. He wondered what else the Dark Side changed about a person, and how it pertained to preventing a return.

"Hmm," said Siolo at last, rubbing his chin in thought, "A fair question, and one not rushed with denial or an ill-thought solution. For now, let us simply continue as is, we shall have you practice meditation, and see if we can work around your perception. Don't get frustrated if..."

"You know," interrupted Iris irritably, "Telling someone not to get frustrated generally does the opposite. It always made me feel that I was being prepped to fail, that I should try harder, and then I'd just get even more frustrated when I still couldn't do whatever was asked of me."

Ah, youth, always pushing themselves so hard with unrealistic expectations, he wouldn't say that though. "Fair enough. Try as best as you can then."

For the rest of the night, the two of them attempted meditation (with little to no progress), before the moon held itself high in the sky. "I believe now would be a good time to call it a night."

Iris said nothing, rising to her feet and turning to go, irritation and frustration coating the air around her.

"Iris," said Siolo, causing her to pause briefly, "While I wont turn you away should you refuse, I would appreciate if you would be willing to come in the morning and help with the garden," motioning to the bowl she had left."

A bit of chagrin rippled through the Force around her. "Right, sorry, I should have offered to work for the food and your help."

Siolo shook his head. "I would never make those in need work for my help, and I wouldn't have asked you to work the garden, but..."

He gave a wry smile, "I'm not as young as I used to be, my old bones would appreciate the help."

She nodded, a hesitant smile on her face. "Alright... old man."

Siolo huffed a bit and waved a hand. "Impudence. Off with you then."

He allowed himself a small smile as she disappeared into the woods before he ambled to his feet, snuffed out the campfire, and retired for the night.

---

He was relatively surprised to find that Iris had beaten him to the garden, and had made a sizeable weed pile already. She also finally had her outer robe and hood off, allowing him to see a bob of blonde hair. "Good morning Iris."

She turned her head, allowing him to get a look at her youthful face. Yet... there was something about it, young but shadowed, blue eyes not an ounce of as bright as they should be. Hardened. Oddly, there were what looked like old healing... burn marks? To be honest, it almost appeared like she had been hit by lightning some time ago and it had burned a bit of her face. The marks were old and receding, something that wouldn't permanently mar her, but he felt it was worth noting, especially when the Force whispered the unnaturalness of the marks to him. So not a stray lightning bolt, perhaps some kind of accident or weapon she encountered, or the unfortunate possibility of electrical torture.

Force, he hoped it wasn't the last option, she was far to young to have experienced such an awful thing.

"Good morning Master Ur Manka," she answered before refocusing on yanking weeds out, digging her hands in deep to rip the plants out, letting the dirt fall back down between her fingers.

"Whatever did the poor plants do to you?" he teased lightly, moving to another section of his garden.

It was a fairly decent patch of land, width the size of a small clearing in the vast woodland he lived in. He had taken many seeds from various smaller plants he had found traveling the wilderness. It wasn't to say he really needed it, he could easily venture off and find bushes of berries, or trees of plentiful fruit. The occasional melon-like find. Animal life was plenty as well. It was a majestic and bountiful world, no civilization had reaped it to nothing yet. So long as nature was respected and treated right, it would provide.

"Nothing," Iris muttered, "Just lost in my head imagining I'm..."

She shook her head. "Forget it."

'Imagining shes digging into someone like that and ripping parts of them out' is what he felt she meant, he hardly needed the Force to figure that out. Who had her scorn he did not know. Perhaps something she would eventually reveal. For now though, it was time to tend to plantlife.

"I'm surprised to see you up before I am," he said, making an attempt for a casual conversation.

Force knows he could use the practice, aside from occasionally calling Master Yoda (the only friend he had left alive) he was decades out of practice holding a conversation.

He caught sight of a thin and unpleasant smile on her face, a crinkling at an unpleasant, perhaps painful memory. "I was taught not to presume I could sleep in."

Siolo hid a frown, staring down at his hands as he gently tended to his plants, examining for ripeness. Taught not to sleep in...? The grimness that emanated from her, surely no Jedi Master would punish their pupil for such a trifle thing? He had known a few Masters back in his time that were a bit more of a stickler for rules than the average Jedi, but, none that would inflict punishment enough to warrant such a reaction from the girl. Force knows the worst he ever did to his padawans was fresher-cleaning-duty for a month (which was enough to get most to behave). No Jedi would physically harm their padawan, especially over such a thing.

No Jedi.

Ah...

There was the possibility her Master had fallen and dragged Iris down with them. Or, she had been abducted into one of the various Dark Side cults that existed throughout the galaxy, despite how ignorant most of the Jedi Order was on their existence. Force, most Jedi were ignorant of other Light Side factions as it was.

Was that it? Or was he seeing to much into this? Either way, he did not feel he had enough of a rapport with the girl to ask yet, at least not without driving her away. How she fell and why were matters that would have to eventually, and very carefully, be explored.

So instead, he offered, "You don't need to get up bright and early unless you so wish it. I do to so simply to get my old bones ready for the day."

He smiled a bit. "And there is nothing quite like the crispness of the morning air."

Iris shrugged in response.

Hmm, so much for talking. Ah well, he was used to the silence anyway...

When the morning tending was done, and enough food plucked for a meal for the two of them, he put them in a clay bowl and motioned her inside. There was a hesitancy, yet again, on her face, unsure if she wanted to go in. He was not forceful, he merely went ahead and left the door open. He glanced around his little abode. He had hand-crafted much of the furniture here. The table, chairs, counters (smoothed down large tree stumps mashed together, hard to tell without the bark), doors, every inch he had put his hands on. Of course, he had brought some tools to help bind or hammer and nail things together. There were very few technological implements or devices in the house. It was all so old fashion he couldn't imagine how it looked to someone used to the rigid structures of civilization.

There was the creaking off wood as Iris hesitantly stepped inside, eyes washing over the interior. Her eyebrows slowly rose, an impressed look on her face. "Did you build this house yourself?"

"I did," he said, "With great patience."

"I do most things with patience, and naturally," He reached for a cupboard, bringing out an empty tea can and a heater. "Save for tea. That I can't find myself waiting for to long."

Iris snorted with amusement. "I half-think the entire Jedi Order would fall apart without tea."

Siolo gave a bemused smile. "There are packets and herbs in the cupboards, vials of treated water beneath the counters. If you would please make some tea, I need to visit the 'fresher'."

"Dare I ask how oldschool the fresher is?" she asked dryly.

"You'd probably be more comfortable running for your ship," he admitted.

"What kind of tea would you like?"

"Surprise me."

With that, he left to tend to his business, returning a few minutes to tea simmering on the heater. Iris sat at the table, head propped up with her hands under her chin, elbows on the table. There was a look of something on her face that was hard to place, an air of slight guilt in the air. He was puzzled, but didn't comment, sitting down and waiting. When it finished, she poured them both tea into clay cups. He brought it to his lips, blowing slightly to move aside the steam and took a sip. He couldn't quite place the flavor, an unusual tang of bitterness to it. He wondered what mixture of herbs and flavor packets she had used. He had thought he had tried most of the combinations himself over the years, but perhaps not.

"Not bad," he said.

There was a faint, weak smile on her face. "Thank you."

"Is something wrong?"

She looked down at the table. "Just... remembering the times I used to do this with my Master."

The Force whispered otherwise, that it was a... half lie, a diversion from whatever was actually bothering her. There was a faint hint of danger in the air from the Force, just a slight one. He wondered about it briefly, perhaps it was a warning not to press to quickly? He wasn't quite sure. Regardless, he finished his tea and set his cup down, and got up to make breakfast. After they ate, he considered what to do now...

"Tell me, what did your training incorporate when you were in the Order?" he inquired, "I doubt it's changed much from my years , but you never now."

She shrugged. "I doubt the curriculum has changed, standard classes on history, diplomacy, lightsaber forms, Force Theory, all the same crap."

"Is 'crap' how Padawans whine about their courses these days?" he asked dryly.

She scowled at him.

He merely smiled in amusement. "What Lightsaber form did you prefer?"

"I was taught Ataru by my master, some Shien."

"Are they what you prefer?"

She hesitated. "I haven't really... found a form I prefer. I've... taken to trying to learn Makashi since I... left the Order."

Makashi? She was learning...

Ah.

She was fallen, there was a high chance if she were to perish, it would be at the hands of a Jedi coming after her. So she'd want to be able to dominate lightsaber combat. Then, there was the fact that she was learning Makashi outside the Order. Who was teaching her it? Or was she trying to learn it out of memory from her classes? He hummed a bit before slowly standing up.

"I have a spare staff, care to stretch your muscles?" he inquired, "We could practice forms."

Her face crinkled. "With sticks?"

He gave her an amused smile. "Perhaps you've forgotten what Master Yoda's glimmer stick feels like."

She made a face, and he laughed. "Yes, with sticks, come."

A few minutes later, they stood outside, staffs clanging against one another in a slow display. He was mostly interested in seeing how she fought, obviously a staff wasn't a lightsaber, but he could learn much from watching her try to adapt. And learn he did, but not in the way he thought he would. There was aggression in her form, the beginnings of a focused control that Makashi would demand, but what he noticed missing was more important. There were hints here and there, of how she was trained as a Jedi, but it wasn't nearly as present as it should be. Other Fallen he had encountered and fought over the years often held a bastardization of the Jedi's forms, but this was something else. It was like her old ticks, the way she held herself and fought, were slowly being overwritten by something darker, more aggressive and hostile.

It was as if...

She had been trained by someone outside the Jedi Order.

That led credit to his thoughts of her perhaps having been abducted by a Dark Side Cult.

"What's your favorite form?" she asked, staff spinning through the air and clashing with her own, an eager look on her face, "I can't really tell, your using a mix right now, Niman I think."

He nodded with approval, though he was amused by the childlike eagerness to spar, Padawans always loved Lightsaber practice, and she was no difference, Fallen or not. "It is. I generally prefer Soresu, but I'm using Niman to get a feel for you."

"Soresu huh? I never bothered much with that," she said, then puffed a bit with pride, "I was one of the best initiates and padawans for my age group, I always liked being on the offensive.

Twack.

He brushed aside a strike and tapped her leg, tripping her to the ground. "Yes, I noticed, your defense is lacking."

She scowled, bruised pride flaring in the Force, and got back up, staff ready and eyes narrowed.

"Would you like to learn Soresu?" he offered.

She paused, uncertainty on her face. "Umm..."

She shrugged. "Okay, why not."

For the next few hours, he reminded her and retaught the basics of Form III until their stomachs growled for lunch. They ate, and then loitered around the dwindling campfire. He dozed lightly, Iris moving a bit away and sitting back against a tree and doing the same. Afterwords, they left to collect wood from fallen trees and branches, plopping it in a pile beside the house. He took her on a walk through the woods later, pointing out shrubbery, places she could find food if need be, how to tell ripe from not ripe, what was poisonous to eat, what animals to avoid.

They made it back as night set, and started up on dinner. "Shall we meditate again while we wait for it to cook?"

There was a sigh but she relented. "As you wish."

That night went much like the last, but they called the meditation session over when dinner was ready. When they finished, he asked a question that had been slowly forming in his mind. If he wanted to pull her from the Dark Side, help her out of it, he needed to have a better understanding of it.

"As someone who is Fallen, what does the Dark Side feel like to you?"

She blinked a few times, taken off-guard. "It... it, well, it depends on what I'm feeling."

"Oh?"

"The Dark Side," she began carefully, "Responds to emotion. Is fueled by it. It was always described to me in my youth as a taint, as a burning creeping feeling that slowly took you over, or a roaring fire that threatened to overwhelm you if you didn't resist it."

"Is that actually what it's like?" he asked, "The Jedi describe it, but they are Jedi, not Fallen."

"It can be," she admitted, "If you lose yourself in your fury, it can be an explosive, all consuming thing, but..."

She shook his head. "If you face someone dark, you should hope it's fire, and not ice."

"Ice?" he asked, confused.

She went silent, and the air around them grew still, as if with wariness. There was a hint of something in the air. She spoke slowly, dangerously, "Cold anger. Allowed to boil quietly beneath the surface. Where hot rage is a uncontrollable bomb that burns out once spent, cold fury is a guided missile that can be held for decades."

He frowned thoughtfully, it almost sounded like she was quoting someone.

"Fiery anger is explosive, but burns away once spent, cold anger can be held for years," she said, "Coldness is how I describe the true depth of the Dark Side. Rage just rests on the surface, like a skin, over a core of pure ice that robs all the warmth, all the light. The hate it can contain is like a black hole, devouring everything. You may think you've encountered someone dark before, but trust me, there are things out there far worse than mere Fallen Jedi."

She spat those last words out with disdain, and it was all he could do to stare at her. Just what had she fallen into?

"When I reach for the light, I remember it once feeling like a friend, taking my hand and leading the way," she said softly, a minor tone of old longing in her voice, "But the dark... it's like a hound, it snaps at its master and pulls on it's leash. It will turn and bite you if you don't dominate it. It's far more literal than you might think, if I don't control the Dark Side, and try to let it guide me like the Light would have, it feels like being pulled in so many directions that I'm being physically ripped apart."

"But... that's only one aspect of the dark," she admitted, "The few parts I... well, not like, but understand, are more primal, instinctual, nothing cold. Animals can be cruel things, savage in their struggles to survive, willing to do whatever it takes, and we're just walking talking animals after all."

"As there are more than just one sect and teaching of the light, so to must there be of the dark," mused Siolo, giving her an appraising look, "I'm curious where you learned such different viewpoints."

There was no hesitancy or shame or any emotion. She merely shook her head and stared into the fire. Siolo let it go though, and made no further questions that night.

---

Days began to pass in similar fashion. Waking up, gardening, she made tea while he made breakfast, sparring, lunch, chores, then a winding down for the day in various ways; sometimes going for a walk, a nap, or just lazing around and relaxing. It was followed by meditation, food, and then discussing philosophy. Siri was... careful in what she told him. She spoke of the Dark Side, and what she learned, but she never mentioned where, or from how, or exactly what she had dirtied her hands with.

They hadn't made much practice in her reaching for the light, but, she was more relaxed around him, more trusting. There was always that air of guilt around her though...

He paused his thoughts and started coughing, shaking his head and rubbing his throat before going back to stirring dinner. "Hmph, it's been years since I developed a cold, I suppose I'm overdue."

There was a flair of guilt in the air, and it actually kind of irritated him. Not everything bad that happened had to be because of her, but she tended to fault herself so readily, especially as he slowly peeled away the dark way of thinking she had entrapped herself in. Honestly, she had admitted considering being the Empress of the Galaxy and trying to force a 'better' way of life on people. There were so many melodramatic and absurd overarching ideas in her head. While he could admit, the Senate had its fault, doing away with the entire thing was asking for a dictatorship, and that would favor no one but the leader and his or her chosen few.

"I want to try something different today for our mediation," he said, setting the spoon down against the pot.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Since you refuse to lower your shields and let me in to help," he jabbed slightly, getting a returning scowl, "We're going to try the opposite. Rather than you reach for the Force, you will follow me as I try, to see if you can latch on and touch the light yourself."

Their was an air of hesitancy around, always so hesitant and wary that one. "Alright."

He settled down, closed his eyes, and invited her in. It was the first time he had let her fully into her mind, not just share a memory. It was... odd, to have a dark presence inside his head. There were old horror stories initiates used to tell at bed time, to scare one another, of things the Sith used to do in the old wars, rooting and ripping through someones head for what they wanted. This wasn't anything like that, not that he'd let that happen. If she did something... unwise, he would boot her out. She was like a puffer turtle from Clak'dor, slowly entering and expanding her presence, but keeping herself hiding and untrusting behind her shell (shield).

He sent an image of one to her, and she gave off a sensation of huffing. His lips peeled back in amusement, but settled down to reach for the Force. He felt her clumsily latch on to his attempt, reaching for the Force he held in his grasp. It had the awful imagery of a drowning person reaching for water out of their reach as she struggled and flailed for it. It was more than a little uncomfortable for her to do that in his mind. He carefully held it out to her, offering it like energy to a fellow Jedi who needed a little pick-me-up. She reached for it and grasped it, and he flinched when he felt a -gasp- in the back of his mind. Of course, with her startlement, she lost it.

I... had forgotten... what it felt like.

He nudged her, sending an encouraging sensation for her to try again. There was an air of wonderment about her, the sense of disbelief fading, as if despite her coming here for help she had never actually believed it could happen. He offered the energy again, and she held it, he felt her presence poking it curiously, before trying to draw it to her. It slipped through her fingers during the transfer, and irritation slipped through her shields. But, he merely drew the Force to him again, and offered it once more. This time, she drew it to her successfully, but even as it slipped from him to her and into her shields, he felt it dim the moment she took control of the energy.

They lost the connection between them as she pulled out in indignation and anger. "You see! It want's NOTHING to do with me!"

He opened her eyes to see her looking utterly distraught. "I... I felt it, I held it, but it just... it went away... it... I never thought I could actually..."

He raised an eyebrow at her, voice soft, trying to get her to look past her grief and frustration. "If you never thought you could truly find the light again, why come here?"

She blinked away the starting of tears in her eyes and bowed her head. "Approaching you like this... was the only chance I had, the only choice I had left."

"Still, I feel that we made progress tonight," he said, "We'll try again tomorrow."

She said nothing, a subtle shake to her shoulders.

"Iris," he said firmly, making her look up, "We will find a way."

There was that ever present hesitancy in her eyes, more so than usual, heavily conflicted, as if she couldn't decide if she actually wanted the light now that there was a hint of possibility to it. Then, there was fear, as if she were afraid of actually managing to do so. But rather than respond to him, she merely bowed her head again and said nothing for the remainder of the night...

---

Day by day, week by week, they tried one method after another to try to help Iris touch the light again. He had his own troubles during the time, his cough slowly developing into something deeper, a constant pressure on his chest, but he ignored it for the most part. He had a duty to Iris, not himself and his old age. He talked her through and reminded her what the Force felt like for a Jedi, let her share in his energy; one session he had instructed her to simply stay in his meditation and simply clasp the Force the entire time. On and on they went, until finally...

He coughed a bit, rubbing his throat, before he asked. "Iris. I don't think we will cross the final barrier until you lower your shields. You cannot return from the Dark Side unless you can learn to trust again."

She was silent, staring at the firelight, a turmoil of emotion in the air and Force around her, before she raised her head to look at him bleakly. "I... I can't..."

"You have to, otherwise I feel that there is nothing more I can do for you," he said, softly, but final.

She closed her eyes, pained. "I... I want you to make me a promise then."

"A promise?"

"I... I know you have a communicator in your room..."

He smiled a little and teased a bit, not upset. "Snooping are we?"

She flinched a bit and mumbled. "Just looking around."

She cleared her throat, opened her eyes, and stared at him, such fear and helplessness in her eyes. "Promise me you won't contact the Jedi."

He sighed. "I don't have any intention of snooping around behind your shields. Your memories and mind are your own, I merely want to help you. I know, as someone fallen, you've done things, perhaps horrible things. I'm not here to judge, merely to help."

His words gave her little comfort. "Please..."

He opened his mouth to respond before quickly bringing up an arm to block a fit of coughing. He waited a moment for it to clear before sighing once more. "Alright, I promise not to contact the Jedi. And if it brings you peace of mind, I haven't contacted them about you prior to now either."

He lowered his shields a little, allowing her to sample for the truth, and she pulled back afterwords with relief. "Okay..."

They settled into meditation, and he reached out, lightly tapping against her shields. There was so much hesitancy, but she lowered them, willingly, and he stepped into pure chaos. Her mind was a flurry of emotions and memories, he did his best not to look, and diverted his attention away from anything that slipped by his mind.

"Reach for the Force," he instructed, "As you would if you were a Jedi."

He flinched a little as he felt her reach and grab for the Force, less demanding than she had in previous settings, but inside her mind it especially grated on him feeling the Force manhandled like that. He identified, as he had simply feeling from the outside, what she was doing wrong. But he couldn't see why she was doing it that way, what could possibly be altering her perception, she wasn't actively trying to use the dark...

Wait...

"Iris, reach for the Dark Side," he instructed, more than a little astonished and chagrined that those words had ever slipped through his mouth.

He could feel similar incredulousness from her as well. "With you still in my mind?"

"Yes."

He mentally prepared himself for it, but it still took his breath away to feel the it wash over him. There was no warmth, just a chilling cold. It wasn't... he didn't think this was the ice she had spoken of, but it was still not quite what he had expected. He hung there in her mind, wrapped in a cloak of the light, and studied what he felt. He noticed there was a kind of... focal point? As she meditated? He poked it, and felt a burst of emotion from it, a brief memory starting to appear before she snatched it away.

"What is this?" he asked curiously, baffled.

"I can't meditate like a Jedi," she answered, "I have to focus on myself, using my emotions as a center point to meditate around."

Enlightening was the only word he had for that answer. It explained so much, he sorely wished he had known this weeks ago. With that, he had an more deeper understanding than before, of the Dark, and what might be going wrong. "You have to let go Iris."

"Of what?"

"Of yourself," he said, "You are pulling the Force to you, pulling it around your emotions, to them, about them. It's selfish in nature. And selfishness is the opposite of what we want here. Its why you can't reach for the light, because your trying to focus it into emotion, drawing it to you in a manner that makes it about you, not the Force."

"I'm... not sure how."

"Empty your mind of thoughts, of feelings, as best as you can, and just... for lack of a better word, float there in the Force, not demanding, not pulling, not asking, just trusting. Trust in the Force Iris, and anything is possible."

He felt her thoughts and feeling slowly quiet. It wasn't empty or focused or calm like a Jedi would be, and he didn't think she could hold what she had managed for long, and especially not without his light presence there giving an air of calm. But it was enough. He gently guided her towards reaching for the Force, feeling it grasp him, and tentatively grasp her...

And he felt her presence shudder. Her Force Signature shifted so abruptly, like an animal shaking its fur to get rid of water and mud dragging it down. She gasped, and his eyes opened to see her own fly open in astonishment, disbelief, and overwhelming wonder. He slowly let go and pulled out from behind her shields, no longer holding her hand, but she still managed to hold on. Success... impossible success.

He smiled at her, feeling a well of pride, and silently thanked the Force for proving the impossible possible. "Well done Iris, well done. There is still much to be done, but you managed to touch the light. Tell me, how does it feel to hold it again?"

She didn't respond.

"Iris?"

He noticed her starting to shake, her eyes going wide, tears welling in her eyes. "No... no no no no no..."

He slowly rose to his feet. "Iris? What's wrong?"

"What have I done?" she whispered in horror, "What have I become?"

He fell to his knees, feeling a horrific surge of overwhelming guilt and grief and despair pour out of her. She took to her feet and ran, screaming in denial and sobbing uncontrollably. He stared after her, baffled and confused, but struggled to his feet and took off after her. He overtook her a few yards out, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to a stop as she struggled.

"Iris, stop!"

"NO! LET ME GO!" she wailed, "I can't! I can't..."

She sagged in his grip, sobbing. "I don't deserve it..."

There was blackness clawing at the edge of his vision, so much guilt and despair radiating from her. He put a comforting hand through her hair and gently set her to the ground. "Iris, child, why don't you deserve it?"

"I'm a monster," she whispered, shaking, "I've killed... I've murdered innocent people... children... entire families... or delivered them basically into slavery to the Black Sun..."

He closed his eyes and softly sighed. "Iris, the light, the Ashla, is about forgiveness. I have guided back those who had taken their first steps towards the Dark Path before, perhaps they killed someone in rage or grief, or hurt a friend. The first step is to learn to forgive yourself, and then after, try to right what you've wronged."

"I'm not... not some misguided Padawan," she hiccuped, "I fell... I... I betrayed everything my Master ever taught me..."

She started crying once more in earnest, so he merely brought her to his chest and lifted her up, heading back towards his house. He lightly pressed a sleep suggestion to her mind, and in her emotional exhaustion, it took with little effort. He now had another understanding, another reason why it was so hard, so impossible to come back. That absolutely crushing grief and guilt...

The constant air of guilt she had before was nothing compared to what he had felt there. It was almost as if... the Dark prevented her from feeling it, or it masked and smothered it, pushing it down until it was a minor voice in the back of her mind. Once the Dark fell away, it surged to the surface. He was almost completely certain if he had let her go, she would have drawn on the Dark again to smother the pain away. She might have just ran away completely and not come back. He wondered, without someone to guide her, to make her want to try for the light, to give her a reason to, if she would have been able to do so on her own.

It took one to fall.

Perhaps it took two to come back.

Not that she was in the clear, not at all. There was still so much to do. This was but her first taste and step away from the Dark. There would be slip ups, relapses, to be sure. It wouldn't be as easy as touch the light once and be cleansed, that only existed in fairy tales. It would be an immense struggle to shake off the Dark Side, and stay away from it. Something she might fight with for the rest of her life. He deposited her into the bed in the side room. She'd be sleeping here tonight rather than her ship elsewhere. She'd been trapped alone in the dark; no more.

He briefly left to grab a few notebooks of flimsi he kept to write in (archaic if he asked anyone), and jotted down his thoughts and notes as the night passed...

---

Iris was... relatively catatonic the next day. She walked around in a daze, ate what was put in front of her, clumsily moved around, but that was it, she all together didn't speak much outside of mumbles. It wasn't until the day after that reality seemed to set in for her. He found her sitting up in her bed, staring down silently at her hands. Her Force Signature a dark-gray and muted, almost numb, rather than the emotional dark leaning towards pitch black. It was a monumental milestone, for the short time they had been together. What had it been? A month and a few weeks at this point? Albeit they had devoted much of their time to it, and she had worked with him rather than fight against it.

"Good morning Iris," he said, standing in the doorway, watching her.

She looked up at him, her eyes in a way both brighter and dimmer, no longer firmly shadowed by the dark, but guilt and grief instead, her voice quiet. "Morning..."

"How do you feel?"

"I... I don't know," she whispered, a tremble to her voice, "I don't know."

"It's alright to feel lost," he said soothingly, "Come, lets have tea and breakfast. We will be adjusting our schedule to allow for more meditation."

She mumbled something along the lines of 'great, more meditation', like she was an impudent padawan. He let her make the tea again while he started on breakfast. He briefly paused to cough into his arm and was about to resume when he felt a wave of guilt hit Iris again, heavy with shame. He didn't turn and acknowledge it though, he let it pass, and brought them two bowls of soup instead. She sullenly ate breakfast, but didn't seem to be able to even look at her tear, her guilt oddly spiking whenever he took a sip, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

After, they sat outside by the unlit campfire, and they settled into meditation. He let he try by herself first, but could sense her difficulty. She was in some kind of cross between a Jedi and a dark way of meditation, trying to trust, but still being drawn towards her emotions. He lightly tapped against her shields, and she let him in. He took a moment to guide her, to help push aside her guilt (not forget, but simply save to address later), and helped her into what had to be her first true meditation since she fell, not counting using a focal point.

She meditated for hours.

To the point where he was honestly concerned.

He knew she had to have a lot she needed to release to the Force, but... she shouldn't force it all in one session. He resolved that if she wasn't done by the time he finished preparing lunch, he'd draw her out of it. Eventually, with the smell of warm soup in the air, he went over to her and waves a bowl of it under her nose, something he had done once for one of his own padawans. She didn't react to it. So he set the bowl down a bit away and shook her shoulder gently, tapping on her shields.

"Iris, lunch is ready," he said.

She slowly pulled out of her meditation and stared at him. He had only a moments warning, of tears welling in her eyes and turmoil in the Force, before she lunged at him, wrapping him in a fierce hug. He winced briefly when her arms went tightly over his lekku, but did his best to ignore the discomfort. She cried quietly into his shoulder, and he let her, wrapping her in a similar hug. Force, he hadn't done anything like this since he had a padawan himself.

To be frank, she kind of already was, in all but name as he guided her back towards the light, he wondered...

He rubbed her back gently and pulled back slightly to kiss her forehead. "It will be alright Iris, I told you I'd help see you through this, and I will, my young Padawan."

She gave a startled hiccup, staring at him in astonishment.

"If you'll have me of course," he said.

She bit her lip, anxiety bleeding into the air, but slowly nodded. "I... I'd like that."

He smiled and pressed affection and care against her shields. He wouldn't ask to make a Master-Padawn bond yet, that was much to soon and he didn't want to rush her. He stood and moved towards the bowl he had set aside for her, about to offer it before her voice caught him offguard.

"I've missed having a master, a teacher, who actually cared," she said softly, sadly, grieving and pained.

Siolo slowly came to a complete stop in motion. For one as aged as him, seeing between the lines, hearing what wasn't said, and picking up the hints on what was said was a well practiced trait. "You've had a teacher who didn't?"

Iris froze up for a moment, and then fear spilled into the Force around them like a all-consuming taint, and he feared the Dark retaking her so soon. "I...I..."

"Calm yourself Iris," said Siolo calmly, projecting his own calm through the Force for her to latch onto.

She did so, but it hardly helped. Siolo did not press her, simply waited for her to open up.

"I..." she said again, trembling, "I..."

Siolo froze as he felt her shields crack, and he felt so much emotion boiling beneath the surface, just about to burst. He braced his own shields as best as he could before she exploded and let it out all.

"Yes! I had a master, a dark twisted sick bastard!" she snarled, angry, grieving, "One who stole me from my former master's still warm corpse mere minutes after she died, before I could even truly grieve! I fell and killed his apprentice for killing my master and threatening my friend! So he took me as a replacement. He locked me in a cell, tortured and starved me, showed me my fall over and over again, and threatened to do so much worse if I didn't agree to serve him! So I did..."

Her emotions bled away, exhausted, shivering,"...and I let him turn me into a monster, a murderer."

Siolo stared at her in utter horror. "Iris..."

He threw away so many principles he swore to as a Jedi, going to her and scooping her up into a tight up, pressing his compassion to her in the Force deeply. Wrapping her in a cocoon of care and affection. He caught sight of an imagine spilling through the Force. Of a Tholothian woman dressed in a Jedi's robes, a burnt hole through her chest, eyes glazed over in death. Iris's jedi master if he had to guess. In what he was sure was the first time in a very long time, she truly and honestly grieved. There was no condemnation in his heart for her, only sadness and sorrow. This was a fate he would wish on no one...

---

Iris stayed quiet for a number of days, the only communication she gave off the constant spikes of guilt and shame in the air. He didn't press her, giving her time to adjust, release her emotions to the Force, and properly grieve for her dead Jedi Master. Though, he was slowly becoming aware that time was running out for him to help her. The cough grew worse, the pain in his chest was spreading. Their was aches in his bones, a hint of slowness to his thoughts. Arthritis that had been negligent and ignore-able before was a constant sore reminder. His age was finally and truly catching up to him, his body degrading at a unusually fast pace. He wondered if his exposure to her darkness prompted this to begin, but he firmly kept that thought to himself.

He would give her no more grief and guilt than she already had, and even if it was somehow true, he wouldn't hold it against her.

The confessions began about a week after she had revealed what had happened to her. "He... brought me people."

"People?"

"To kill."

"Go on," he said softly.

"He said I was supposed to be able to kill at a moments notice, without hesitation, no matter if it was a man, a woman, or a child," she said, constantly swallowing the entire time, "He... tortured them when I didn't and me when I tried to stop him. Made me a deal, said if I killed the parents, he wouldn't force me to kill the children. So I... did. And then, he brutally killed the children in front of me as a lesson."

Siolo kept his lips thin, the bubbling of anger firmly kept down and controlled. "Who?"

She just shook her head and continued, "He kept bringing more families to me, and... I just... went numb to it. Until he was satisfied."

Siolo was the one for once struggling to control his emotions. Whoever her Dark Master had been, he was a cruel and sadistic man. Siolo was not a violent person, but he knew any interactions with this mystery darksider would have to end with him being put down.

"He had me bleed Kyber Crystals next," she whispered.

Siolo flinched a little at that, at such a cruel and awful act to something so pure. "I see."

"He set me loose a bit on the lower levels of Coruscant after," she said softly, "He had already taught me... much... about history, the way he saw and wanted things. I saw the decay, the horrible state of things, and hated it. I came upon a rape in progress, killed the rapist, crushed his privates, beat him into a pulp, and crushed his skull. My Master called me a 'viscous little thing' as a token of affection."

She sighed softly. "I don't particularly regret that, but... I came to see things, not quite his way, but through his way of seeing things. I'm not sure I still don't. I've seen the world through it's darker underbelly, and there's so much wrong with it. I want to fix it, I want to force it to become better."

"You can't force people to," he said softly, "You can only present them the choice, and hope they take the right path. Free will is the right of all sentient lifeforms."

She didn't respond to him further that night.

The next night, after a sulking filled day, she continued. "My Master 'loaned' me out to the Black Sun, a criminal organization, for a year. They had me... do all sorts of horrible things. Murder. Bribery. Thievery. Assault. Acting like all around thug. Like a slaver taking in people who couldn't pay their debts. Helped them take over another criminal enterprise and become even bigger than they already were. So many people suffered because of me, and will continue to do so because I helped the Black Sun grow."

She grew bitter, "I befriended their leaders, I liked them. Considered them my friends, considered them mine. And I still don't regret having them as friends, they were the only ones I had since becoming a Jedi. It felt so good to have someone again, who cared in their own way."

She turned to look at him. "So what kind of person does that make me?"

"Lost and lonely," he answered softly, "I will not say you are innocent Iris. That would spit upon the lives of all who had suffered at your hands."

She bowed her head, a ragged breath escaping her lips.

"But... you are not solely at fault, your Dark Master has much to answer for," said Siolo in a controlled voice, not letting his own anger at the man in question show, "As does the Black Sun who directed your hand."

There was a brief flare of protective anger from her at him before she pushed it down, looking away from him in shame.

"Seeking forgiveness is a long and difficult road, atonement is... a struggle," he said, "Especially with so heavy a burden weighing you down. When you are ready and recovered, fully in the light again; helping to bring down your former Dark Master, and turning in the Black Sun, will go a long way towards redemption."

There was an audible spike in fear, the dark clawing at her through the Force. "You have no idea how powerful he is, no idea at all. He'd kill us both in seconds. If we go after him, he'll kill you and take me back, punish me for trying to turn away..."

Siolo gave a wry smile. "I did not say it was I who would fight him, I'm much to old and ailing for that."

Iris flinched, guilt and shame bleeding into the air.

He sighed. "Iris, my old age is nothing you can prevent nor something you should feel guilty for. There is no death, there is the Force, and one day we will all rejoin it."

She said nothing.

He leveled his gaze at her. "Eventually you will have to go to the Jedi Iris."

She shook her head, and continued to shake it.

"You will need their help," he said, "Both to defeat your former master, and... if I cannot finish what we've begun here, to find help finishing turning away from the Dark Side."

She stood, trembling, and walked into the house, still shaking her head in denial as she went.

He sighed softly, and rose to his feet to go after her, before a dizzy spell hit him, and he collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as a spike of pain tore through him. He wiped at his mouth, coming a way with a bit of blood, and took a ragged breath. "Please Force, give me more time, she needs me..."

---

Steadily, as another week passed, his condition slowly worsened. Some days it stayed the same, others it worsened. He moved less, and let Iris take the brunt of the chores. His lessons in Soresu turned from spars into simple lessons where he watched her practice. Her progress in reaching for the Light had stalled; her fear, of both the Jedi rejecting her and her former Dark Master coming for her, were the obvious blockers this time. She often woke with nightmares that he had to come and comfort her in the aftermath of.

He grieved for her.

For so young a child, she couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen years old at most. Still a child, a teenager, warped and hardened by a trial thrown at her far before she was ready. Struggling to stand on her own legs and overcome it. She wasn't the only one who struggled though.

He held doubts that he could get her through this part. He had been brash, to take her on as a padawan when his health was failing. He had gotten her hopes up, and he feared that if he died before she finished fully returning to the light, it would destroy what progress they had made, and in her grief over the loss of yet another Jedi Master, fall back into the Dark Side. He struggled with what to do about this. Did he try to seek help? Perhaps they could take her ship to another planet and seek medical attention, though there was little to be done if his body was simply at the end of its lifespan.

Did he simply trust in the Force? Have blind faith that it would see them through? Or was that being foolish? Counting on the Force like that to circumvent what was only natural.

Which left him with one choice, and a broken promise... but could he truely do that? Break his word to her?

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and rose to his feet, making for the campfire, when he stumbled and collapsed, pain rocketing through his body, into a fit of coughing, clutching his chest.

"Master Ur Manka!"

Damn... he hadn't wanted Iris to see this.

She was upon him in a moment, guilt and grief and shame spilling over the area in waves, like an uncontrolled youngling with no shields. She put him on her shoulder and struggled to get him to his room. She knelt by his bed and pressed her head against it, crying softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered over and over again, "I'm so sorry..."

He sighed, and gently ruffled her hair. "Iris... don't fret my Padawan. I still have time in me yet..."

But inside, he knew his time was short, so he made his resolve...

---

The next morning, he awoke and stared up at the ceiling silently. He came to a sitting position, rubbing his aching chest, and reached for his communicator. He paused briefly when he felt a flare of warning from the Force, but he pushed past it. He didn't have time for doubts. He punched in the line for Master Yoda's private comm and waited.

It flickered to life, a blue hologram appearing over the device, the old trolls ears flickering with delight. "Ah, Master Ur Manka, to hear from you once more, good it is."'

He gave a small smile and took a ragged breath. "It might be for the last time, old friend."

Master Yoda's ears drooped a bit as he scrutinized the Twi'Lek. "Unwell you are."

"My old age has finally caught up with me," said Siolo, coughing hoarsely.

He shook his head. "I... contacted you to ask help for my young ward, a favor."

Yoda's ears twitched. "A ward, you say?"

"A padawan," said Siolo, "Who I should have known better than to take on when I was ailing."

"Hmm," mused Master Yoda, "Tell me of this Padawan, you will?"

He hesitated. "I ask for you to have faith, in me, in what I've done, in her, and in the Force."

Yoda waited patiently.

"Almost two months ago, I was approached by a firmly Fallen Padawan," said Siolo, watching carefully as Yoda's ears twitched slightly, a hint of surprise and wariness crossing his face, "Her name is Iris, though I'm not sure that's her actual name. She came to me for help, not wanting to live as she was."

"Oh?" said Yoda, curious, but not as disbelieving as Siolo thought he would be, "Sought help, to return, did she? Hmm?"

"She did," he said, pausing for another fit of coughing, "We struggled, at first, to make any progress. But slowly, we did. About roughly two weeks ago, we succeeded in getting her to touch the light again."

Yoda's eyes widened. "A liar, you are not. Come back, this Padawan did?"

Siolo hesitated. "Partially. She's not... fully dark anymore, mostly gray. She is still going to struggle for a long time, and has a long way to go. Her guilt over what she did while fallen is... crushing. Without me here as a pillar of support, I'm not sure she will remain in the light, and I'm not going to be here for much longer. A month or two at best if I'm lucky. She already lost one Master, I fear that if I die, she will relapse back into the Dark Side without someone there to support her."

"Wish for me to come, you do," said Yoda.

"Yes," said Siolo, "She needs help to finish finding her way back... and there is more, so much more. She was... abducted, her former Master killed, by... well, I'm not sure, a Dark Jedi, or some Dark Side sect, she hadn't clarified for me yet. He tortured and bent her to his will, and she fears he will come for her. According to her, he is powerful."

Yoda's eyes sharped. "Hmm. Troubling this is. Say who her former Jedi Master was, did she?"

"No," said Siolo, "I haven't been as... attentive and pressing as I should be. I eased her in at first, but then..."

He broke into another hacking cough. "Then, my condition started deteriorating, heavily."

Master Yoda nodded slowly, ears twitching as he silently thought. Finally, several minutes later, he spoke. "Come to you, I will. A week, no more, no less, to settle duties here."

"Thank you, just... be prepared for her to be scared, she's afraid of the Jedi, of what you might do to her," he said, both as a double warning, to not be surprised, and to not actually do anything.

"If true she is, in her attempt to return," said Master Yoda, "Then nothing but support, shall the Jedi give."

Siolo gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Hope to see you in a week, I do," said Yoda.

"As do I old friend, as do I."

The comm clicked off, and Siolo briefly leaned against the wall of his room. The Force was pressing against him in steady warning, for what, he did not know. He rose to his feet, grabbed his staff, and wearily walked into the center room of his home, leaning heavily on his staff for support. He paused, noting a steaming cup of tea left on the table for him. He smiled a bit at that, and walked over. He paused, eyebrows furrowed, feeling a chill in the air, of the dark. His ailing condition was definitely upsetting Iris and the progress she had made. It was the right choice, to have called for Yoda. She had come to far to lose herself back to the Dark because of his upcoming death.

He took a sip of his tea, frowning a bit at the heavy bitterness of it. Iris seemed to have got the mixture wrong from her usual tea, but, it would be rude to not finish it, so he did...

...and he clutched his chest suddenly, the empty tea cup slipping from his hands and shattering upon the floor as a horrific pain seized his heart. He coughed and wheezed, buckling to his knees. Was this it? Was the Force to claim him now? He closed his eyes, pressing his head against the floor, struggling. Not like this... he didn't want Iris to walk in and find him dead on the floor. If he could just... just crawl back to his bed... make it seem like he had died peacefully in his sleep rather than in agony here...

He opened his eyes and looked up at the sound of footsteps, catching sight of Iris's boots. To late for that then. He looked up weakly at her, and was confused, so confused, so see her staring down coldly at him, so much bitterness and betrayal on her face.

"How could you," she whispered icily.

She drew a foot back and kicked him, hard, in his chest, sending him sprawling across the floor, screaming, "HOW COULD YOU! I TRUSTED YOU!"

The pain in his chest skyrocketed. "I-iris... w-what..."

"You promised me!" she said, tears welling in her eyes, "You promised me you weren't going to contact the Jedi!"

He looked up at her, pained. "Iris... you still... need help, I'm dying... I don't have time to finish... what we started. I..."

She glared at him, the first tear slipped down her cheek. "I was going to save you, you know? I had finally made a decision, after struggling with it for the last few weeks. I decided last night that I was going to turn on him, for you, really try to turn away from the Dark Side, for you. I had the antidote ready to put in your tea, but what do I overhear as I'm passing by your door? You betraying me."

"A...antidote...?" he whispered.

Force...

This wasn't old age.

The tea, her spikes of guilt whenever he had drank from it...

She had poisoned him, had been poising him this entire time...

Then he registered what she had said, and his already deathly pale skin grew ever paler. "Iris... wait... I wasn't betraying you... I was helping..."

She kicked him again, hard in the chest. "SHUT UP!"

The Force was roiled around them, turning darker and darker by the second. Siolo could see all the hard work, all the effort to help her, to save her, disintegrating before his very eyes. What had he done? He should never have contacted Yoda. What had he done?

"Darth Sidious was right," she whispered dejectedly, "He was truly right about the Jedi."

Darth.

Darth Sidious.

Had she just... was she implying... the Sith?

She kicked him again, onto his back. "How could I ever have been so foolish as to put faith in you? Trust in anything you said? Let myself believe..."

She shook her head and straddled his stomach, hands reaching out for his neck. "I... I hate you."

She did, and it was awful to feel, but that wasn't all she felt.

"Perhaps... but if that is all you feel... why are you crying... for me?" he whispered.

Her hands froze inches from his neck, tears streaming readily down her face. For a brief moment, he felt the conflict again, felt the light in her struggle against the darkness, and he had hope she could pull through...

Then her eyes hardened, the darkness crushed down, burying the light, and her hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing tightly.

Iris... he pleaded through the Force as best he could, don't let this consume you.

But it was to no avail, either she couldn't hear him anymore, or chose not to.

I'm sorry, I failed you, was the last thought he could think, her tear stained face was the last sight he saw, her sobs the last thing he heard, as she choked the life out of him and the Force embraced him at long last...

---

Author's Notes:

Siri pretends to be trying to come back to the light and slowly poisons Siolo to death; accidentally succeeds in touching the Light and commits to coming back. Then Oops. So close Siolo, so close, then you fucked it up at the end. RIP.

---

Review Responses:

IAmOneWithTheForce: Temple...? Siolo lived in a hut on a forest world in retirement. :P. There was no actual fighting, just a slow and steady poisoning VS pulling a Darksider back to the light. Siolo actually would have succeeded in pulling Siri away from Sidious if he hadn't goofed, and eventually, she would have found her way fully back to the Light. She wasn't nearly as lost as Vader was at this point, but what happened instead is going to heavily push her back down into the Dark Side. As of this chapter, Siri is roughly sixteen or seventeen, depending on what day her birthday actually is. We are roughly 5 years or so away from the Invasion of Naboo.

PtLacky: Thanks.

Nerdman3000: No asskicking! :P. Siri knew she couldn't beat him in that kind of fight, so she took to other methods. The Black Sun folks will definitely show up again. As for Eldra Kaitis, IDK. I don't really have plans for her at the moment, but she probably wont die to the Xrexus Cartel, and definitely wont die to Maul since he's kind of dead. Maybe she'll make a guest appearance at some point, who knows. And I would love a copy of it, :D.

Le0nidas: Way down the line. Siri won't have an apprentice/padawan till after ROTS timeline. Qui-Gon is in no danger of falling, and Dooku is a plan right now, slowly being manouvered away from the Jedi, but not fallen or falling at this point.