:: Chapter Forty Eight ::

Late at night, when fewest eyes watched them, was the moment Arcann had chosen to transport both his prisoners—Eliza and Jace Malcom—to his personal vessel atop the Spire. He'd left word with his guard Captain only, but refused to explain his absence. No one would understand and his mission was too volatile to be called into question.

"Nice ship," Eliza remarked when she boarded.

"Just wait until you see the amenities and upgrades I had installed. All by my own design," Arcann told her.

Their exchange left a cuffed, and gagged, Jace Malcom abhorred. He'd been certain that Eliza—the Outlander, a Sith, and his enemy—had been executed mere hours after Arcann had come to collect her from the cell block. Now the opposite appeared true and he glared at the pair with outright suspicion.

He shuffled his feet sluggishly while Arcann led him beyond the galley, his private quarters, and the refresher to the back of the ship where he was stashed away in a simple cage. Arcann removed his gag and Eliza leaned in the doorway, her arms folded before her.

"Are you sure that's wise?" She quirked a brow.

"Perhaps not but we'll be a few hours at least, possibly days. Let the man drink and eat if he desires."

Jace grumbled, not the least bit pleased, "What are you both up to?"

"I'm going home, Commander," Eliza told him and she shrugged at Arcann's questioning look. "He may as well know, we'll need his cooperation soon enough."

"Fair." He nodded.

"Home where?" Jace asked, gripping the bars of his cell to see them both. "The Empire?"

"Home elsewhere. If you're lucky, if he survived, you might even see your son again. Wouldn't that be nice?" Eliza flashed him a contemptuous smile and turned away.

Arcann followed behind and stopped her in the hallway. "You can use my quarters if you want privacy or rest. I'll be on the bridge until we're clear of Zakuul."

"Thank you, I would actually like to lie down for a while. It's been a long day and this little one is draining me." She caressed her belly.

The door unlocked after Arcann entered his personal access code and he showed her inside. "Will you need anything?"

"No, just wake me when you need the coordinates for my base."

"Alright. And if you wake up before then, or need anything at all, use the comm system by my bedside."

"Thanks."

Eliza dropped herself on the mattress before he'd even left the room and blew out a deep sigh when the door locked. How the hell was she going to get through the next few hours?

She rolled onto her side and hung half over the bed, her curiosity getting the better of her when she spotted the drawers of his nightstand. She curled two fingers around the edge of the bottom drawer and with slow deliberation checked to see if it would open. Which it did, to her relief, and without sounding any alarms.

"Mm, let's see what type of personal stuff you keep aboard this ship..."

For a second she paused, considering she shouldn't be snooping through his things but she was halfway into committing the crime already, no point stopping now. She dug through two stacks of clothing articles—pajamas by the looks of it—and found a hardcover album at the very bottom.

The ship took off from the landing pad, startling Eliza when she felt the vibration of the engines, but then she relaxed and retrieved the album to flip through its contents.

"What..." she mumbled to herself when she found hand-drawn sketches rather than developed holographs like she'd expected.

The very first sketch was an all too familiar figure—Thexan—so identical to his brother though somewhat slimmer, especially around the face. Arcann had drawn him several times over, filling the first couple of pages until Eliza found a likeness of Senya instead. A younger Senya with her hair down—the mother Arcann remembered best.

"This isn't half bad..."

She flipped further, finding various depictions—Knights, a detailed sketch of Arcann's own ship, the Spire, an unfinished portrayal of Vaylin—but the very last drawing was what stunned her most of all.

It illustrated a young woman sleeping peacefully. Long, wavy locks fanned out over the pillow beneath her head while one hand clenched the sheets and the other rested by her face. Her lips slightly parted, showing half a pout, and long lashes rested on her cheeks. A scene feeling all too familiar to Eliza and the only missing detail was her one arm cuffed to the bedpost.

She froze. "That's me..."

Horrified, she closed the sketchbook and tucked it back inside the drawer which she shut just as quick. For just a moment, she'd actually felt warmed by the drawing, by the realization he'd depicted her with such attentive detail but that feeling didn't last and made way for something else instead—guilt.

"Oh, what are you doing to me..."

All too easily her mind brought her back to the first day she'd had an actual conversation with him. She barely remembered now how he'd slapped her, and only his kindness and vulnerability were burned in her memory.

The way he'd quite gallantly taken her ankle in his hand and on his lap to adjust the dampener. The slight blush she'd spotted on his cheeks when she'd unnecessarily bared her stomach for the physician's medical scan. The tears he'd forced himself to keep inside when he spoke of his brother.

So many moments that had left their mark on her while she and Arcann had grown that much closer. Sharing secrets and confessions of her own which she, in her wildest dreams, couldn't have ever imagined telling him about. Hell, he was the only one she'd dared tell how much it had actually grieved her to end Ravage's life, no matter the deserving circumstance.

Before she knew it, a single tear trickled down her cheek and she gripped the sheets firmly to pool her strength and banish the emotion from her body. Now was not the time to be weak or to break—the future was at stake and hung entirely on her actions.

"Hold it together, you're almost home. You'll see Theron again—you know how good Doc is, surely he saved him and Scourge. You'll have your family again soon, just hold on."

The words were barely even a whisper but they were all she had right now. Words, promises made to herself, hope—even if vain—to hold on to and see her through the last leg of her unexpected adventure.

At last, sleep carried her to restless dreams where her darkest thoughts met her biggest fears. Leaving her to toss and turn, get entangled between the slate blue sheets, until a gentle hand rescued her from a whirlpool of nightmares hours later.

"Are you alright?" asked Arcann, the concern clear in his eyes. "I called your name several times over."

"I... sorry, bad dreams," Eliza mumbled.

She forced herself to sit up, feeling the drops of sweat on her forehead, and combed her fingers through her hair to straighten it out.

"I did something stupid," she confessed, entirely beyond her own control, when he sat down by her side.

"Oh? What is it?"

"I was looking for... an extra blanket," she reached for whichever excuse sprang to mind, "and found your sketchbook."

"Ah. You mean you found the drawing I made of you?" Arcann didn't appear bothered by her admission.

"I did, yes."

"And now you're freaked out, is that what your bad dream was about?"

"No, not at all, no. It's very good, you're talented, but I just don't understand why you drew it at all. Or why you didn't show me the next morning."

He nodded and his hand found hers, their fingers entwining naturally. "That day meant a lot to me and as something to remember it by, to remember you by, I drew that sketch."

"That... makes sense, and it's quite lovely."

"Yes, but there is more—you've started to matter to me, Eliza. You've made a real, and positive, difference in my life, just short of throwing it upside down completely."

She chuckled and felt the weight of her nightmare ebb away, making room for calm. "You're welcome?"

"Mm. I'd even go as far as to admit that, had our lives been any different, if circumstances weren't what they are, I could picture myself with someone like you."

"Arcann..."

"Don't. I'm not in that place and you'll never be, and I can live with that. I'm actually more-so looking forward to the friendship we might one day develop."

A heavy lump formed in her throat and before she knew it, she'd leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek. Not for a second taking notice of the scars on his face, or the way he held her in return, but just letting instinct drive her and sheltering herself in the moment.

Oh, she would go to hell before the day was over.

"What was that for?" he asked when she finally let go.

"I... just, because I think we're—yeah, friends."

Arcann smiled, but gradually tore himself from her side and got up before he'd do something he might regret forever—like giving in to desires that would serve him no good.

"We just passed the Endless Swamp and have entered Wild Space. Would you care to enter the coordinates to your base into the system?"

"Yeah, sure. Has the Supreme Douchebag given you any trouble?"

"No, he's been quiet as a mouse, save for the occasional heavy sigh and grunt. I dread to discover his snoring is as bad as you've claimed," Arcann told her with a grin.

"Pff, I'm just grateful that particular trait does not run in the family."

"Lucky you."

They found their way to the bridge where Eliza took up the co-pilot's seat and with a few quick taps on the navigational system, Arcann's ship, which she now saw named The Edrys, set course for Odessen.

"I've never heard of that planet before," said Arcann when he checked the map.

"Neither had I—a friend of mine discovered it a while back."

"Less than five thousand parsecs from Zakuul... to think you were right under my nose all this time."

The only thing Eliza managed was a timid smile. Her far too many thoughts eating away at her awareness and she sunk in her seat, wishing she could have just a few drops of liquid courage to see her through the next hours.

"You never told me what happened with Kira," she broke the silence minutes later and swiveled her chair around to face him.

"How did she manage to strike at your father, what exactly happened to her after and why did you lock her in carbonite?"

Arcann lowered his eyes—he still carried around guilt for the way he'd used Kira. "I... freed her. I still wanted my father dead and thought together, she and I could take him.

"He'd ordered me to strike her down but instead, I removed her stun cuffs and turned on my father. While he was distracted by my attack, Kira struck him from behind and ended his life. I'm not entirely sure what happened next—he'd dealt me a blow and I was rather out of it—but when I came to, my father was dead and she was unconscious on the floor."

"So, she helped you?"

"She did," he admitted in shame and the crimson rose in his cheeks. "But someone had to be held responsible for the Immortal Emperor's demise and it couldn't be me. She was the only other choice—and did strike the killing blow—though I couldn't bring myself to kill her, not after she'd aided me. That's why I locked her away instead, unaware the carbonite process was flawed."

Seeking to apologize, or perhaps to connect and ease his conscience, Arcann leaned forward and put a hand on Eliza's knee. "I'm sorry for what happened to her."

"You should know, her husband is with us on Odessen. We buried her there."

"Yes, I'd thought I might run into such confrontation on your base. I'm willing to face it."

Again she merely smiled, silent in a way he felt was quite unlike her. "Talk to me Eliza, what's going on? Are you having second thoughts about what we're doing?"

"No, it isn't that," she was quick to dismiss his worry and her own hesitation.

"But for the past weeks, I've ignored wondering what's been happening in my absence. Whether Scourge and Theron survived, if my crew even made it back to Odessen at all and now that we're so close to getting there, I think those concerns are catching up to me."

"That I can understand," Arcann said and he suppressed his own flash of a selfish thought—thinking just for a second that if neither men had survived, he might just stand a chance.

"I have some herbal tea in the galley, why don't you make some for us both while I increase the engine drive to get us to Odessen faster?" he made an offer Eliza eagerly accepted.

"Sounds like a plan, thanks."

She left her seat and turned from the bridge but just as she did, Arcann reeled her back in and within seconds his lips found hers. Trapping her body in his arms in the most tender fashion and she let him—accepting the punishment for her crimes. Welcoming his tongue slipping into her mouth to carve out a scar that would taint her life and follow her to the depths of hell. His hands roaming her sides, down her back and caressing underneath her shirt to craft a cage around her regrets until he let her go.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," he stammered with embarrassment when he realized what he'd done.

"It's... don't worry, I get it. Let's just forget it happened," Eliza managed with more conviction than she felt in her body. "Tea, yes?"

"Please..."

The moment was best left ignored to avoid a conversation neither of them could handle. Knowing she would reject him was enough, he didn't need to hear her say so and Eliza couldn't even form the words to express everything she felt. Wrapping herself in a shroud of stoicism while her feet carried her to the galley.

'Herbal tea... herbal tea... where do you keep it?'

In the cabinets, she found a set of mugs and she had no trouble finding, and filling, the kettle but the little baggies eluded her. Rummaging through the drawers yielded her no results either but then her eye fell on something else entirely—not quite what she'd been searching for but exactly what she needed to get her through this journey.

After casting a quick glance at the door, Eliza stashed the object away on her back, tucked under the waistband of her pants. She scoured the other areas of the galley, at last finding the tea bags in a holder on the dining table, and she prepared a warm brew for herself and Arcann.

"I wasn't sure if you take sweets or milk," she said and handed him one of the mugs when she returned.

"Neither, thank you."

"Sure."

Her feet padded the soft carpet while she paced, drumming her fingernails against the rim of her mug and wishing time would go by faster. The tea did nothing to relax her and Arcann glanced her way, frowning at her tense body language.

"I apologize for the kiss, I was out of line," he took a wild stab at trying to guess what bothered her.

"Oh... no, really, I meant it when I said not to worry about it."

"Then what's..." the question died on his lips when he saw her eyes widen.

Following her gaze, Arcann glanced out the viewport at the planet that appeared before them. Very few clouds clung to the atmosphere, leaving a clear view of the orb painted mostly in vibrant green and blues—quite unlike Zakuul.

"Is that..."

"Odessen? Yes," Eliza confirmed.

She circled back around and came to stand still behind his seat, leaning forward to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "That's home."

"It's quite a sight. Is it as beautiful down on the surface as well?"

"Oh, even better. Vast green forests, mountains and cliff sides. Wildlife, waterfalls, little creeks."

"Sounds idyllic." He stared ahead, mesmerized by the planet expanding before them.

Everything was falling into place for him now and finally, his life was on the right track. A childlike joy bubbling in his heart when he realized it wouldn't be long until he'd reunite with his mother and could tell her all the things he hadn't been able to since the day she'd left.

His hand slid over Eliza's on his shoulder and he laced his fingers, bringing her soft digits toward his lips. He trailed lithe kisses down each of her knuckles, humming with a quiet gratitude that caused her to quiver.

"Thank you," he expressed with a sigh. "For having faith in me, for giving me a chance and—"

The last of his sentence drowned out against her palm and, entirely unexpected, everything changed. In a split second, Eliza had dug her fingers in to grip his jaw and she'd jerked him back in the pilot's seat. Her forceful claw tipping his chin up, leaving Arcann startled while he snatched her wrist to free himself and turned a blind eye to her other hand coming up on his left side.

An unpleasant squish, the sound of a blade slicing into flesh, reached his ears and scarlet fluids sprayed the control panel before him and down his chest—she'd cut him. Tearing his throat open from below his right ear down to the left side of his neck where the knife halted stubbornly against thick scar tissue.

Arcann thrashed and struggled in his seat, fighting his own debilitating disbelief at her actions but it wasn't until he heard her mournful whisper that his rage drowned out every other form of upset.

"I'm sorry..."

He bled profusely, and even with his strength and power, he had only minutes to spare before he would succumb to his injury but that didn't stop him lunging from his seat to fight back. Waving his arm in a furious arch to throw Eliza back and she hurtled from the bridge out into the hallway where she collided with the wall.

"WHY?!" he bellowed in sheer anger and stalked after her.

The knife—the one she'd taken from the galley—clattered at her side and she rushed to pick it back up. He was in pursuit of her, clutching his throat to stem the bleeding, and Eliza first crawled, then got to her feet and ran beyond his reach.

"Why?!" he demanded again but this time, the crack of heartache in his voice overshadowed his anger.

How could it be she'd done this to him? Why now, and for what reason, when they'd formed such a treasured relationship over the past days. Even more so in the recent hours.

"I had to! The things you've done cannot be forgiven!" Eliza cried out.

"Kira's death, Scourge's years of torment, Theron?! Korriz, Melldia, Kursid, Drezzi, and Athiss! The pain you've caused Cytharat and his family, my family! Billions who've died by your hand!"

She scampered further away, never taking her eyes off him and never letting him get close though he hadn't yet reached for his lightsaber on his hip—a fact which only barely registered while she continued her accusations.

"Years of war, your own people who've suffered! The Republic and the Empire slaves to your ambition, subjugated! There is only one form of redemption, one justice for all that you've done!"

"I was going to atone and make things right!" He still followed her even while his legs buckled and his body shook.

"You can't! No amount of good deeds will ever undo the atrocities you've committed. You can't bring back the dead and true peace is impossible while you live!"

By now they'd reached the back of the ship and Arcann crumbled to his knees. Broken, and not just through his injury but because of her—the woman he'd grown to care for and admired, who'd brought him hope and now shattered it with her betrayal.

Were she anyone else, he wouldn't hesitate to spend the last seconds of his life making her pay. To end her before he'd draw his own last breath but he couldn't do it. Feeling his heart break when he caught the anguish written all over her face.

He unclipped his lightsaber from his belt but rather than ignite it, he threw it at her feet. Resigning himself to his fate and lacking the desire to fight her. Monsters had to be put down—they didn't deserve forgiveness or a happy ending—and he'd been a right fool to ever believe otherwise. She was just doing her duty by eliminating the villain from her, and everyone else's, story.

"Was it all a lie?" he croaked and finally allowed himself the tears he'd been holding back for so long.

Scarlet regret dripped down the corners of his mouth, coating his chin when he heaved a staggering breath and Eliza crouched down to his level. Warm tears trickled down her cheek and she swallowed hard.

"No, most of it was true," she swore in absolute honesty.

His head lolled forward in a faint nod and he gripped her trembling hand, guiding the knife she held to his heart.

"Then finish it and carry me with you for the rest of your life."

With the last of her strength, Eliza drove the blade forward to rob him of his last breath. Piercing the heart that had come to love her in its own way and she let out another sob.

"Stars I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I couldn't let you, I couldn't risk it... all those people, all you've done... I couldn't," she choked out when he slumped against her and she felt life leave his body.