Author's notes: To all of you who were wondering what my Exile looks like – here you go. First bits of personality are here, too. When I play, I usually play female Exile, being a girl myself, so it was my first intention to make the Exile a her. The male Exile wasn't as attractive until I realized the finer points of making the Exile a he, some of which you mentioned. I wrote down a list of pro and contra for both genders and found an almost equal number of both for either gender. But I made my choice and thus, the Exile in this story was born. Read on and find out who it is. Anyway, I want to get rid of Peragus quickly, I skipped the prologue of the game, nothing happens there anyway, so on to the conversation with Atton and then we hack and slash our way right to the next important thing – getting da party members and fighting the HK-50.

Dalis'ilhea– I don't know if I'll be writing the whole story of KII… KI was pretty exhausting to write and took very long. First glimpses of the Exile are here, including physical description. Thanks! The start should be good, otherwise the rest won't be.

Ryumasa the Ryuhaitou – I'll need that. I'm writing three fics at the same time and fans of each are so demanding! Maybe I'll give up… I mean, what's the point? ;) Thanks, by the way – Kreia is pretty hard to write, with all her philosophical babble and I wanted to show her thoughts a bit.

Kathleen – (bows) thank you, here you go!

Miss Becky– (hands chocolate) Yes, it was Kreia! I'm a supporter of the Arren Kae theory. Thanks and here you go!

Samurai Demon-God Sekikage –Well, I read your review several times, listing the good points and crossing the bad ones. You brought out good ideas and I considered them. Read the chapter to see if this was an okay decision. PS – I'm not sure who to romance in this fic. Care to share thoughts on this?

UnrealChopsuey – maybe it'll be as long as VoS, who knows. Yes, Kreia is correct! (gives chocolate)

X X X

Chapter 1 – A strange awakening

X X X

I think I'll find another way
There's so much more to know
I guess I'll die another day
It's not my time to go

For every sin, I'll have to pay
I've come to work, I've come to play
I think I'll find another way
It's not my time to go

- Madonna, Die Another Day

X X X X

There was only silence in the void filled with nothingness… nothing, but a soul filled it. Small, seemingly insignificant, compared to the titans of the universe. But a spark of life was strong there, filled with such hope, such power, such… sadness. And when one tried to sense if it was truly there, not just an illusion created by the wild, vivid imagination of an observer, they saw only death.

A blind spot. There wasn't a void surrounding it… it was the void that wasn't a void at all, the silence in the symphony of the Force. Such a peaceful thing, the silence. It almost seemed to be completely calm in its strange slumber. A sleep without awakening.

But then, against all odds, thoughts, possibilities, a voice, elderly and directive, entered the mind. And, being commanding in its nature, it gave a simple order, an order that perhaps changed the fate of the sleeping warrior.

Awaken.

The mind obeyed without question, commanding the body to do the same. Vivid green eyes, warm, like the grass of a sunlit meadow, but still drowsy from the strange slumber, opened sleepily. The presence of a liquid surrounding the body, preventing movement, was noted. Slowly, consciousness began slipping again.

But before it could escape for good, the strange liquid was gone, leaving cold durasteel pressing against an even cooler cheek. With a low moan, consciousness returned, the soul found its place in the healed body. Summoning all strength and power, persuading muscles to function, the human arose, straightening up. Green eyes swiftly scanned the other tanks, but saw only death.

Alone, unarmed and exposed not only due to the lack of clothing, the Exile, the outcast of the Jedi Order, left the medbay, searching for anything that could be of use – primarily, information.

This facility certainly wasn't the Harbinger.

There was only one exit, as the Exile discovered, and that one was stuck. A weapon was needed, fast. A computer console in the nearby storage rooms provided access to the medical supplies and passage to the morgue – it was doubtful that anything useful would be found there, but perhaps someone was alive. It was strange, though, that there was a lockdown… and the dead people in the kolto tanks weren't good for easing one's thoughts.

Only two corpses were in the morgue, a man and a woman. The Exile studied the woman's face for a moment, her sightless milky eyes, without pupils, white as a thick fog, her long hair, held in beautiful golden clasps, each richly carved. She was cloaked, but there was no sign of injury upon her. Then again, she seemed very old.

The other corpse was covered in a white blanket, but one arm still clutched a useable plasma torch. That was, perhaps, a way to pry the door open. While the Exile attempted to pry the dead man's fingers open, the old, seemingly dead woman, unnoticed for the time being, slowly rose to a sitting position, as if simply waking from a long slumber, like the Exile.

The woman's gaze fell upon the Exile, who apparently didn't sense it, immersed in the task ahead. Even though she was clearly blind, the smallest, briefest of smiles graced her wrinkled face. The description she had been given fitted to the very last syllable.

Tall and slightly skinny in appearance, the Exile's very stance showed the behavior of someone who had seen days in the army and in the Jedi Order both. What naked flesh was exposed showed both physical strength and scaring, though the later was an aged memory of a war long past. Like any veteran, even when lost and confused, his head remained high and looking into the future. Deep thought was mirrored in his eyes, the scars of war etched into his face, as they were into his mind. His pale face was handsome, framed by a military haircut of light brown hair, his eyebrows and thin beard of a slightly deeper shade. All in all, he showed experience far beyond his years – he seemed something over thirty.

Lowering the hood of her cloak, shielding her eyes completely, the aged woman stood up from the bed. "Find what you are looking for amongst the dead?" her raspy, aged voice rang out, with a distinct sharpness.

The Exile, who had by now managed to grasp the plasma torch firmly, turned sharply, but quickly relaxed when he saw who was approaching him. "I thought you were dead." He said with suspicion.

"Close to death, yes, closer than I would like." The old woman inhaled a bit deeper. "You have the smell of the kolto tank about you. How do you feel?"

"Drained." The Exile noted bluntly. But then he recognized the voice. "Was it you I heard in the kolto tank."

"Yes, I had hoped as much. I had slept for too long and could not awaken."

"It may be I reached out unconsciously, and your mind must have been a willing one. Or perhaps you have been trained for such things?"

Evasiveness was the obvious answer. "So you can touch minds… and feign death. Who are you?" was the obvious question.

The woman didn't hesitate. "I am Kreia." The first of many truths from only a certain point of view. "And I am your rescuer… as you are mine. Tell me, do you recall what happened?"

"Last I remember, I booked passage on the Harbinger and was on my way to the Mid Rim… then I wake up here, deprived of my possessions, it seems," he added in a mutter, "and discover from a computer console that the medbay patients were all killed due to an overdose of sedatives. With the exception of yours truly." His eyes narrowed very slightly. "Would you know anything about that?"

"I do not know… why did they spare you?" Kreia inquired.

"I am trained to resist the poisons of the body."

A nod. "Indeed, a Jedi trance would protect one from such poisons. In fact, the sedatives may have been intended to render you unconscious for some time."

The Exile raised his hands in a protective gesture. "Wait a moment – I'm no Jedi, lady. Last I recall, they chucked me out of their godforsaken Order ten years ago. Now unless this is a parallel universe where the Council was all for the war and there's still a record of a guy called Deon Emory being a Jedi, you are pretty much mistaken."

Kreia wasn't impressed by the joke in the very least. "Your ship was attacked. You were the only survivor. A result of your Jedi training, no doubt. Your stance, your walk tells me you are a Jedi. Your walk is heavy, you carry something that weights you down."

"You seem to know a lot about Jedi techniques."

"And so do you." Kreia noted with a small smile. "Perhaps we could discuss it at length later on… let us focus on the now."

"Alright – what is this place? Where are we?"

"I do not know. I was removed from the events of the world as I slept. A survey of the surroundings may provide the answers we seek. The ship we have arrived in must still be in this place. We should recover it and leave."

"Why do you think we need to leave?"

We were attacked once and I fear our attackers won't give up the hunt so easily. Without transport, weapons and information, they will find us easy prey indeed."

"You seem nervous – what's wrong?" Deon noted.

"Even as I slept, I felt much unrest here – I saw strange visions, minds colored with fear – now, everything here feels terribly silent." Kreia said, almost to herself. Then, as if she remembered that she was not alone, she regained the firmness of her voice. "I would find out as much as you can about this place quickly – I feel we will need to depart as suddenly as we arrived.

Deon frowned. "You wouldn't help much, just having been resurrected. No offense." In his eyes, Kreia really seemed old enough to be some millennia old woman who had been revived due to the side effects of some ancient amulet. He had heard of such things in the Jedi archives… but, as he thought of Jedi, he mentally slapped himself. "I'll have a look around on my own."

"You may wish to extend your search to some clothes… if only for proper first impressions." Kreia noted, but while the remark hinted humor, her voice was perfectly emotionless. "I leave you to the explorations of this place. Here I will remain and attempt to center myself."

With those enigmatic words, Kreia sat down in the middle of the chamber, cross-legged – an uncanny feat for someone her age – and placed her hands on her knees, straightened her back and clearly began meditating.

Deon didn't question this. From what he had seen of this Kreia, he got the impression that she was the kind of person that only gave hints, be it subtle or obvious, and enjoyed watching others come to the solution on their own, for good or ill. Then she either counseled them or berated them. That signaled a careful watcher of her surroundings and a calculative personality. Other than that, he could hardly claim he understood the woman, her purpose in the facility or the reason why she saved him from death.

Being what he was – an ex-Jedi with military training – the clumsy droids, clearly not meant for trying to take someone's head off, were no real challenge for him, even less when he located a vibroblade on one of the corpses. All suggested that the droids somehow became mad and attacked the miners… but the fact that the medbay camera was aimed at his tank was disturbing. The holorecords granted limited information. And the sealed hatch in front of him wouldn't budge.

'Just great.' Deon thought. After all that had happened to him, he would remain in this stupid facility with a high mortality rate. 'Wonderful. '

'This is the exit… strange. In my visions, it was open…'

Deon nearly jumped. Throughout his Jedi years, he had experienced telepathy, but now, a decade after severing his ties with the Force, hearing a voice in his mind was one of the last things he expected. Even less hearing Kreias voice. He recognized it as the one he heard in the kolto tank.

Kreia? He both thought and called out the name, unsure if he still had the ability to reply to messages through sheer force of will. But if the old woman heard it, he didn't find out. The only reply was silence. But he was a bit further from the morgue now and his abilities couldn't be trusted. After all, you lose skill when you don't practice it, he reasoned. This was natural.

The Exile proceeded, collecting items that would be of use to him, until he finally reached a holo that was of some use. Not that he needed to sneak past the droids, but the stealth belt the man in the holo mentioned would prove useful in the future, he was sure of that. Confidently, Deon proceeded to the next room, which was behind an airlock-like corridor.

'Be careful.' said the elderly voice in his head, 'There is much energy in the room beyond, yet it stems from nothing that lives.'

While he wasn't startled this time, it still came as a surprise. Deons eyes widened slightly and then he frowned. 'Kreia? What-?' he thought, assuming that if the old woman could see that the hatch had been sealed, she would probably be able to sense this thought from within his mind.

'Can you not sense them?' the slightly woeful voice interrupted, 'Reach out… cast aside what you… see and instead, reach out with your perceptions.' And, truthfully, once the Exile accepted those words and tried to do as Kreia said, he could sense the four droids in the next room. It would be a bit harder to destroy them, in such close quarters, but nothing dreadful.

Thus the Exile charged into the room, destroying the droids without breaking a sweat, before the machines could target him with the cumbersome mining blasters they had. Once the last one fell down, the voice, now somewhat satisfied, spoke again.

'Ah. You hear it. It is faint… but it is there.'

Surely enough, Deon could feel something… strange. As if the sedatives were wearing off, a rush of energy. It was somehow familiar. 'Is something wrong?'

'It is the Force you feel.' The voice announced. 'It has not been so long for you to forget.'

As if a cold shower had been activated, Deon snapped out of the satisfied state. He didn't want to feel the Force anymore… when he last felt it, too many terrible things had transpired. After giving up the life of a Jedi, he had no need for it. Though not entirely foreign yet, the Force wasn't a welcome guest in the life of Deon Emory anymore.

'I don't want this. Not again, never again.' he didn't really mean to send it to Kreia, but he was trying so hard to shut it off that there was probably nothing he could have done about it.

'Do not turn away from it.' Kreia commanded, 'Come – I shall guide you down the familiar paths. You will need it if we are to survive and escape this place.'

And, at that precise moment, though only the aged woman in the medbay knew it for sure, the Force had returned to the Exile, in a new form, one that was far more useful to the plans of the woman calling herself Kreia.