Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney, George Lucas, and all the men and women that created the Star Wars movies, books, and comics. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made. The cover art image belongs to peanutbutterroastedchestnuts. tumblr .com (remove the spaces)
Rating: T for violence, disturbing imagery, and dark themes
Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind reviews! I try to never ask for them, but they are much appreciated and they really did make my day. You guys are so awesome :) I hope you enjoy this next chapter
Chapter 23
Core Worlds Region, Coruscant Subsector, Corusca Sector, Unknown System, 39 BBY
I'm laying on a stone slab in the basement of the Jedi Temple, but that's about all I know for the moment. I place my palms down to push myself up, and I feel the familiar pain from the strain on my damaged wrists. Yep, I'm back for sure. Same body, same old injuries, same me.
No, not same me. Different me.
I feel completely different. The Angel's words come back to me as I sit on the edge of the slab, thinking things through before acting. Coming back from the dead isn't exactly something that happens every day.
"Minerva was bad. But you are not Minerva. She disappeared as whoever you are surfaced. You are...neither. We cannot judge you based on her."
Something is bugging me, deep down. Something is just not the same, but I can't put my finger on it.
There's a mirror on the far wall, cracked in the corner but mostly whole, and I softly pad over to it. I look more different than ever.
My hair is still the same brown color, and my skin is still a medium shade, not too pale or too dark. I'm wearing a flowing white dress, but that wasn't my choice. It's probably what they were going to cremate me in (you would never catch me dressing myself in white). On the surface, though, nothing has changed. My eyes are still the same -
No. They're not. A bubble of laughter escapes my throat, rough and raspy but still a laugh (hey, I was dead for a little bit, okay?). My eyes aren't the Sith orange or yellow. My eyes are grey again!
I'm not a Sith anymore. The realization begins to sink in as a huge weight is lifted off my chest. Tears even sting my eyes - and I don't cry, at least not easily. But the relief is just too much for me hold in. My days of being forced to follow my master and wielding the power of the dark side are over. Although my death was short, there were a few things that became clear to me. One of them is that I have a choice in life, to be either good or bad.
I am neither. That is my choice in life. I will not be a slave to either the light side or the dark side. I will have the freedom to be either. I will do whatever I want with my life.
I am not Rina, held back by my fear and bogged down by disappointment. I am not Minerva, controlled by fear and the want for power.
I am someone entirely different. I am me.
Footsteps interrupt my thoughts, and I see Quinlan Vos enter the room. I can't help the smug smile on my face at his complete and utter shock. He doesn't even say anything as he stares at me standing there, alive.
"Come to pay your final respects?" I tease, and his face falls into an enraged look.
"You're supposed to be dead," he says. "Or did you fake that to manipulate us, too?"
Hm. Of course they would suspect it was all a ruse. It's not, though, and they can't possibly believe that I am lying when they see the change in my eyes and in the imbalance of the Force.
"You're right," I tell him. "I am supposed to be dead. Guess you couldn't get rid of me yet."
He scowls. "I'm taking you to the Jedi Council. They can decide what to do with you."
I smile brightly because I know it will drive him crazy. "What a good idea!" I reply in a sickly sweet voice, though internally I'm just relieved he didn't whip out his lightsaber to finish me off himself. I'm defenseless without my lightsaber.
A pang of regret hits my heart. My beautiful, hand-crafted lightsaber that had been with me for years is gone. Taken, by my former master. I'll never see it again.
But it was a mark of my Sith origins, so even if Sidious hadn't taken it I would have had to get rid of it myself. Maybe it's for the best that I don't have to deal with it now.
Quinlan drags me roughly by the arm out of the room and up those flights of stairs and all the way through the Jedi temple to the higher floors where the Council room is.
The twelve chairs and their inhabitants seem intimidating when I'm standing in the middle. Without all my cocky confidence and my rash pride I feel a little lost. And after having to recound my whole story, I feel tired and shaky.
"Let me get this straight," Mace Windu says, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. "You escaped with the help of your droid, went to Moraband to challenge your master, died, then came back to life. We know Master Jinn brought your body back, but how are we supposed to know you weren't faking it?"
My eyes can barely contain themselves as I struggle not to roll them in disbelief. "Do you honestly think I would fake my own death? What good would that do me? If anything it would be the opposite - I did end up right back here, right into the clutches of those who tried to melt my brain." I emphasize the last three words, leaning in a little.
"I don't believe it," Ki-Adi-Mundi says, shaking his cone head. "People don't just come back from the dead. Not like this, at least."
"Telling the truth she is," Yoda contradicts slowly, nodding his green head forward. Some of the Council members look at him in shock, others in affirmation.
"How can you say that?" Depa argues, her dark eyes flashing angrily. "She's a Sith! A traitorous one!"
"Feel, you must," Yoda instructs. "Around her, the Force is changed. Gone the dark side is." He looks up at me thoughtfully. "Now grey her eyes are, orange no longer." They all turn to look over at me, and I can sense them tuning into the Force.
"Master Yoda is correct," Yarael Poof finally confirms, leaning to the side to take full advantage of his armrest. He then turns to me. "But if you are no longer a Sith, then who are you?"
Who am I? I hadn't thought of this before. Minerva is dead, along with Rina. Changing my name has always been an important part of my transition from one person to another. But what will I be called now?
Something comes to my mind, something someone once told me…"I am Nisha Alyx." I pronounce it as Neesha Aleex. "I am neither good or bad. I help people in need, but I do not worry about the restrictions of the Jedi Order." The words flow surprisingly easy, and somehow I know they're true. This is my destiny. This is how I'm supposed to make amends, with both myself and the world.
"Then you will not be a threat to us?" Mace Windu asks, a little suspicious. I nod my head.
"I will only ever be of help," I promise. "I am nothing but glad to be rid of the dark side. It was a burden and a chain that kept me from being free."
"Prove it," Quinlan speaks up from outside of the main circle. He's standing with his arms crossed, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "Reveal the identity of your master."
"What master?" I ask, my face impassive. "I am not Minerva. I am Nisha Alyx. I have no masters."
His eyes narrow, but he doesn't press. Instead he goes for a low blow. "Guess you really are loyal to him."
Before I died, that would have bugged me to no end. I'm past that now, though. All I feel is the stress free and calm sensation of peace. "It is not my secret to tell, just as I do not and will not reveal Jedi secrets to some of my other contacts. Neutrality is a two-way street."
Quinlan frowns, but before he can speak again the Jedi Council dismisses me. I know they still have their suspicions, but it is no longer my concern. My actions will eventually prove to them how trustworthy I really am.
With my freedom intact, I walk away proudly, my chin raised and my steps confident. I'm not being arrogant or haughty; I've fought hard and long, and I have sacrificed much for this moment to come. This is the moment where I have proven myself changed, the time where I have finally become who I want to be, not who I feel I need to be.
What had that Twi'lek girl in the alley and later Isaiah call me? It has stuck with me for quite some time, and even now it has a big influence on my life.
I am Nisha Alyx. The dark defender. A protector of the weak. A night warrior. A homeless traveler. I am strong and powerful, but I am not to be feared. I am alone, but I have friends and allies. I have suffered, but I am no longer in pain. I serve neither the light side or the dark side; I walk the line between good and evil. I call upon the power of the Force, but there is no good or bad, light or dark - it simply is the Force. I am above the law but not below judgement. I am who I am today, not who I was yesterday or who I will be tomorrow.
When I was Rina, I was weak and scared. Cowardly. I hated my family because I thought they were the reason for my flaws. I held rage in me for the ones around me, for I thought they ignored my suffering and pretended to understand what I was going through. I thought everyone and everything was against me.
When I was Minerva I let my fear of becoming Rina again control me. I acted rashly and cruelly. I still held rage and hate in me. Minerva was just Rina but with power and weapons. She was nothing but an act. When something - or rather, someone - good came into her life, she destroyed him.
I am Nisha Alyx. My mind is constantly fighting the call of evil, for I once allowed it to control me. I must always be alert to be sure I do not become someone I will one day hate. I have friends both good and bad, and I will keep it that way. My physical scars show who I was and what I've done, but it's the scars on my heart that tell the real story. They prove the horrible things we do for love. Or rather, the terrible things I did because of love.
The whole world is at my feet, begging me to adventure out and do the things I want and meet new people, but my first stop is somewhere very close.
Leaning on the chipped white railing, the soft flowers of the plotted trees floating lazily to the ground, I can see a good portion of the city. Behind me there's a bench with names carved into it. Turning around, I sit on the edge and trace my fingers across two names, knowing exactly where they are without even searching. Over the years they've been worn down and scribbled on top of, but gouged deep into the wood is Minerva and Damari. It had been another life when I'd sat there with him, laughing and getting lost in his deep brown eyes. Tears sting at the corner of my eyes at the memories. They don't belong to me anymore, and even now I'm struggling to recall how he looks. All I remember are his eyes, and even those are fading. They are Minerva's memories, not mine.
I'm losing him. I'd gained the life I had wanted, but at what cost?
No. That's not right. Damari wouldn't want me to think like that. He's just a reminder of my past mistakes, a shred of regret I cannot seem to let go of. I will see him again one day. He's waiting for me, patiently watching from above my entire life with my siblings at his side. They're all waiting for me. But I can't run to them. They have forever to wait while I only have a little while to live.
Again I feel peace slowly creeping in. I just have to accept what I cannot change and live my life to the fullest knowing that my siblings and my love supports me no matter what. They're always with me. I just have to let go of my negative emotions to feel them.
Letting out a deep breath, I lean back into the bench and connect to the Force, allowing the real world to fall away into the background. There is nothing but me and the thing that brings life to the world. The literal glue of the universe.
In here, I can feel them as if they are standing right beside me. My brother with his bright aura, Lillea with her dark and young but still mature aura, and Damari with his innocent and forgiving nature. They're right there, just as they will always be. Maybe I can no longer recall their faces or their voices, but they are still always with me.
There's a beeping noise in the distance, but it grows louder as I slowly open my eyes and blink away my meditation. Something dark green and gold and white bumps into me repeatedly, joyful noises flying out at an incomprehensible rate. It takes me only a heartbeat to understand.
"KZ!" I cry in elation, leaning down to wrap my arms around his dome. He hums contentedly in my embrace, and I realize I no longer need to look back on my past. I have a present and a future right here, even if it is with a stubborn droid.
I hold out KZ and wipe at a smudge on his metal covering. "Missed me, huh?"
He doesn't even bother to try and deny it. He just swivels his head around in excitement, chattering away intelligibly.
"I should have known you wouldn't stay dead," a deep voice remarks wryly. I look up to see Obi-Wan standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest. A dry smile is on his face, but I can sense he's truly happy that I'm back.
"Well, you know me," I shoot back, standing up to talk to him but leaving a reassuring hand on KZ-4's dome. "I'm quite the drama queen."
"And for that, I am glad." He nods his head. "The rumors say you are no longer a Sith. Is that true?" His eyes take in my white supposed-to-be-funeral dress and my neatly crown-braided hair. "You certainly don't look like one anymore."
A laugh escapes my mouth. It's not sarcastic or bitter, but simply a normal laugh. How long has it been since I laughed as innocently as that? I cannot remember. Never, it seems. "Are you stereotyping Sith by their appearance?"
He grins, realizing the foolishness of his words. "I suppose so. In all honestly, though, you look different. In a good way."
I incline my head in thanks. "I am a Sith no more. A heavy burden has been lifted off of my shoulders."
"That is good. They say you are still a Force user, though not for the light side or the dark side." He looks at me for confirmation.
"The Jedi have the right idea to use the Force for peace, but what they do not understand is that a balance of the Force is necessary. I'm not talking about two Sith and tons of Jedi, either. In order for perfect balance to be created, everyone must be in the middle. There is no light side and dark side, there is only what you make of it. With the good comes the bad, but the Jedi try to have it all good. That is not the way life works. I understand that now." A calmness washes over me as I speak.
"You have grown wise since we last talked," Obi-Wan notices. "You cannot be the Minerva I knew. She was clouded with anger and frustration. You are...serene. The Force is stronger with you than ever."
"Minerva is dead," I agree. "I am Nisha Alyx now."
"That's a mouthful," he states. "Good, but a mouthful. I refuse to call you that. I'm going to shorten it to…" He debates it over in his mind for a bit. "...Nyx."
It's pretty effective, if you ask me. The first letter and the last two, plus it sounds cool. "I like it," I say. "Hey, is Qui-Gon around? I haven't seen him in a while."
"He's at the Temple," Obi-Wan replies. "He'll be glad to see you alive and well. You were a bit dead when he last saw you."
"What are we waiting for?" I ask, heading towards the Temple. I glance down at myself quickly first, and then shake my head. This outfit is not going to work. It's a freakin' funeral dress. I won't be seen in it any longer. "Actually, I'll meet up with you there in an hour. I need to take care of something important."
KZ and I navigate to a clothing store in the middle of the city. I grab a couple of things to try on, but none of them seem right. Standing in front of the large mirror in the dressing room, I only now notice how different I look. My skin is darker and fuller, healthier, the purple bags under my eyes gone. My eyes are a sparkling grey color, and my hair has bronze and copper streaks in the dark brown. Black works as an outer wear color, but red just looks bad now. And it reminds me too much of the blood that I left behind on Moraband during my battle with my old master.
I end up in a long-sleeved, charcoal grey cropped sweater that's tight but flexible. It ends well above my midriff, showcasing the two parallel scars from my master's lightsaber that stretch across my stomach. They're very obvious, but I'm not ashamed of them. They're a part of who I am. To replace my once black skirt I instead wear a low-slung, short, bright yellow skirt with a white belt. It's completely different than before, but when I saw the skirt all I could think about was that yellow lightsaber from Moraband. It's a unique color that is not worn often, especially by someone like me. No one would have looked at Minerva or Rina and thought of them in yellow. I still keep my black combat boots, though.
Next I get my hair cut. I have always prided myself with my incredibly long hair, but it reminds me too much of Minerva. Chopping off ten inches isn't easy, but at shoulder-length it looks good and it's a lot lighter. I braid the front part straight back in a unique style that is practical while still showing off my new haircut.
Walking out, I feel completely different in a good way. Once I had worked hard to blend in, but now people stare at me as I pass. I make an impression, and not a single person sees me and thinks of Minerva. It feels refreshing and new.
I make it to my starship, which is parked outside of the Temple, and scavenge my black Sith robes from the cockpit. I may have changed my outfit, but there is no way I'm giving up my black cloak. That thing is comfy, warm, and mysterious looking. It's my favorite thing in the world (sorry, KZ).
When I show up at the Jedi Temple, my cloak bundled under my arm and KZ at my side, I get a lot of double-takes and stares. Good. Let them see who I have become. Let them know that people can change. Most of all, let them know that even I, a Sith, could change.
Obi-Wan sees me and hurries over. "Qui-Gon was called to an emergency meeting. He will be preoccupied until tomorrow. He didn't want to miss you, but he had no choice," the Padawan assures me.
"That's okay. It gives the two of us some time to explore the biggest city in the universe. If you're up for it, that is." I'm not entirely sure he'll agree, seeing as though being around me has tainted his reputation in the past, but this time he just nods with a bit of enthusiasm.
Dying sucks, but getting a second chance at life is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
"How did you find out about this place?" I ask Obi-Wan as we sit next to each other on a bench at a rooftop cafe, the cool summer air blowing around us and bringing with it the smell of a thousand different food places. It doesn't smell bad, though; it smells like home, like a family holiday. All of Coruscant is spread out below and around us, conversations and blinking signs and starships all sending signals and sensations to our brains at once. It's overwhelming yet comforting.
"I've heard about it from people I've encountered on missions," Obi-Wan replies. "Apparently it's one of the best places in Coruscant."
"I love the view." I lean back, tilt my chin up, and close my eyes, taking it all in. When I open my eyes, I notice he's staring at me. "What?"
Obi-Wan shakes his head. "You're so different. Not in a bad way, I mean, but Minerva would have never taken time to just enjoy the moment. You always used to be so rushed, so focused on one thing. The little things didn't matter to you."
A sad smile forms on my face. "Yeah. But through my experiences I've learned that the little things matter. Life matters. It's important to enjoy every second of it because we're given so little."
He leans back and stares out at the city that never stops moving. "You've sensed the disturbance in the Force, haven't you? When you switched it was temporarily balanced perfectly, but not long after the scales tilted towards the dark side again. And in a much more significant way."
I had noticed that. "There is a new Sith apprentice, and he or she is even more powerful that I am. Is that why Qui-Gon was called to an emergency meeting?"
Obi-Wan nods. "I believe so. It should not worry me, but it does. And recently the Senate has been growing increasingly rocky. More and more fights are breaking out between representatives. I sense the end of an era is beginning."
"All the more reason to enjoy the life we have."
"I like the new look," Obi-Wan says after a moment, changing the subject.
"You do? It doesn't make me look too bright and happy or anything?"
"No. It's perfect."
I can't help the smile growing on my face. "Thanks. I needed something new."
"I'm still not over your eyes. How they aren't Sith ones anymore. They look so beautiful."
I'm not sure who moves first. Probably both of us at the same time. But before I know it our lips are touching and I'm holding onto him as tightly as he's holding onto me. For a few seconds, I don't think. I can't.
When we finally pull away, there's one thought that's killing me. "You're going to get in trouble with the Order!"
Obi-Wan frowns. "Weren't you just the one saying we have to enjoy every moment?"
"But not at the cost of your career. Trust me, you don't want to lose that. I know how much it means to you."
"I won't get in trouble. They won't notice. Not if it's just once."
I raise an eyebrow. "Just once? You promise? I don't want you to get expelled."
"Just once," he promises, and I know he means it. And I also know that I wish I had met him under very different circumstances. If he wasn't a Jedi and if I wasn't a Sith, if he wasn't bound to the Order and if I didn't already have someone waiting for me on the other side -
Everything could be so different. But it isn't, and even if this life is better than anything I could have ever asked for, it still isn't perfect.
"Just once," I agree, pulling him close again.