And so it begins… wait, didn't I say that last chapter? ANYWAY, a little AU-ness here: Carth never talked to the Exile after the battle, he's talking to her now after Malachor.

Note: My Exile looks something like the Exile drawn by *aimo on

Sister: Black

.:5 Years Later:.

Nikita Vaas lounged in the copilot's chair of the Ebon Hawk, her feet propped up on the controls. Her blonde hair was pulled into a short, messy ponytail off of her face, and her sharp green eyes were fixed on what was just outside of the Hawk's windows: Citadel Station, looking battered from the recent battle, but still resolutely afloat thanks to Vogga's shipments of fuel.

"So no ideas on why the Admiral wants to talk to us?" Nikita looked over at Atton Rand, who was steering the ship into port. She shrugged. "Not a clue. Maybe he wants to give us a medal for saving the station." She didn't even believe her own words, and so wasn't overly surprised when Atton gave one of his trademark grins and said, "Yeah, I'd buy that… you know, if it weren't our fault it was attacked."

"Oh, shut up," Nikita snapped. "You're ruining my hopes for a nice arrival!" Atton just kept smiling and turned the Hawk slightly to the left. "Whatever you say, 'Kita."

As he occupied himself with steering them into Citadel Station, Nikita smiled to herself. She was overwhelmingly happy that Atton had survived what happened on Malachor. Nikita felt an undeniable surge of guilt even thinking of it, but she knew that she would rather have things happened the way they did than have those they lost back, but Atton gone.

It was because she was in love with him, she knew. Somewhere between yelling at him for staring at her chest on Peragus and right now, they had sped through acquaintance, friendship, and straight on to romance. But she was afraid. Kreia's – no, Traya's – predictions in the Trayus Core had terrified her. What if he didn't love her? What if she told him, and he rejected her? She knew it would make another hole in her, not nearly as big as the Force one, but just as painful in its own way.

So you can be cut off from the Force, live in exile for almost ten years with no friends, find all those missing Jedi masters, train five grown people to be Jedi, kill a Sith Lord return to Malachor V, kill two more Sith Lords and destroy a Sith Academy, she mused, but you can't tell Atton how you feel.

She leaned back in her chair and blew a strip of blonde hair off her forehead. Pathetic.

Atton eased the ship into the familiar landing dock on Citadel Station. Nikita could see that several TSF officers were waiting at the doors, among them Lieutenant Dol Gren. She swore under her breath. Gren was not very high on the list of people she liked.

Atton groaned. "Great, a welcoming committee." Nikita shot him a look. "Come on now," she scolded. "It's different. Last time you were a criminal off Peragus. Now you are a big, bad Jedi with a cool orange lightsaber." Atton flashed his scoundrel's grin at her, his fingers brushing the orange blade tucked tightly into his belt. Then he rose and made his way to the Hawk's central room. Nikita trailed behind him.

As she entered, her eyes darted to the remaining members of her crew. Mandalore, HK-47, T3-M4, Mical, and Visas all watched as the others entered. Her heart hurt as she looked at the place where Mira and Bao-Dur should have stood. The red-headed huntress was currently lying in the medbay, unresponsive even to Mical's medical skills. Something had been done to her by the Sith students in the Trayus Academy. They had seen her lying on the ground of Malachor when they were leaving. Bao-Dur had tried to rescue her, using his newly-discovered Force powers to jump down to her. However, as the Ebon Hawk lowered to retrieve them, a spear of rock had pierced him through the stomach. Now he, too, lay in the medbay, teetering somewhere between life and death.

It hurt to think that despite her efforts, she couldn't help them. Really, now that most of the Jedi were dead, there was only one whose skills exceeded Nikita's who may, may be able to help. But no one knew where she was.

Her eyes flickered over the circle again, hardly noting G0-T0's absence (he hadn't done much but float and be a pessimist). She caught Atton's quick glance-over of her, and Mical's puppydog stares.

Inwardly, she sighed. That was all she needed – for two members of her crew to fight over her. As if she didn't have enough to cope with at the moment! Outwardly, though, she assumed the stance of the no-nonsense general who has led them through the past months.

"All right," she barked. "All this is is a visit to the Admiral because he 'needs to speak with us'. All of you but T3 are coming in – T, I need you to monitor Bao and Mira." Nikita masked the crack in her voice as she said their names the best she could. Pressing on, she continues, "But only two will actually meet with the Admiral with me." Mical perked up at once, and Nikita clenched her fists. She hated putting him down, but he needed to get the message that she didn't return his affections.

"Atton will come with me, since he was one of the original three to land here and they kind of sort of know him now." Mical's face fell, but no one else reacted. They weren't stupid enough to bring up the third person who had come with Nikita and Atton onto that station for the first time.

"So who else wants to come?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she swore and wished she could take them back. She knew that Mical would volunteer, and she'd be stuck with both him and Atton – not a comfortable situation under any circumstances.

To her surprise, however, Mandalore spoke first. He had rejoined with them after Malachor. "I'll come," he said, earning him stares from the other crew members. The stares were to be expected; Mandalore was distant from the crew at best, and didn't really speak to anyone but Nikita. His volunteering was certainly a surprise maneuver. Nikita couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn she heard him mumble something inside that tin can of a helmet that sounded like "old time - and Bastila…"

Nikita grinned roguishly at each of them. "Right, then, off we go."

---

Lieutenant Gren was waiting for them with a couple TSF officers flanking him. He nodded politely at them, but Atton scowled. It was obvious he had not forgotten the last time Gren greeted them upon landing – they had ended up in high security cages and then in house arrest.

"Ah, Miss Vaas," Gren said in his gruff monotone. Nikita gave him a look that held no expression whatsoever. She wasn't his biggest fan, either. He had done a terrible job of keeping the station safe, last time she checked. "The Admiral is waiting. Follow me."

Nikita snorted. "I'm not going by myself," she informed him sourly, and gestured to her crew.

Grenn narrowed his eyes. "And they are…?"

She smirked at his obvious infuriation. "Mical – a Jedi historian we found on Dantooine. Visas Marr, an ex-Sith assassin. Mandalore of Clan Ordo – yes, a Mandalorian. Bao. And And the assassin droid HK-47. Inside is also a bounty hunter fresh off Nar Shaddaa and the tech who invented the mass shadow generator."

Nikita could have laughed at Gren's obvious horror of just who she had brought to his precious station. She concluded with a flourish, "And you know Atton, and of course, me."

Gren shut his eyes and took several deep breaths. Just to unsettle him more (because one of her favorite pastimes was toying with people's thoughts), Nikita took pleasure in adding, "Oh, and I've trained Mical, Mira the bounty hunter, Visas, Bao-Dur the tech, and Atton as Jedi. I am their Master."

Nearly all color flooded out of Gren's face. Niki could practically hear his panic on having six Jedi – five trained by the Exile, and one the Exile herself, no less – inside Citadel Station.

"Very… very well then," Gren said, obviously unsettled. "Follow me… all of you. We'll see the Admiral now."

---

Admiral Onasi was a relatively handsome man, Nikita noted. He had dark brown hair with only the barest streaks of grey, deep brown eyes, and a friendly smile. In fact, he looked a good deal like an older, more refined Atton.

He smiled kindly as Nikita, Atton and Mandalore entered his office. Gren marched purposefully ahead of them, and announced sourly, "Nikita Vaas, Atton Rand, and Mandalore to see you, Admiral. The," he paused delicately over the word, "other Jedi are outside."

"Others?" Onasi said interestedly. He eyed Nikita, who bowed slightly and said, "There is me, Atton, and four other Jedi here, sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have been busy, I see. Good for you, rebuilding the Order." He sounded genuine, so she grinned cheekily, and answered, "There's only so much to occupy you on a journey all over the galaxy."

The Admiral barked a laugh. "Believe me, I know," he replied, then told Grnn, "You are dismissed." The lieutenant nodded, paused long enough to spare Nikita a sour glance, then left the room.

Admiral Onasi stood up, and paced to the front of his desk. He seemed very restless. "Welcome back to the station," he said. "I hope Gren didn't give you too much trouble." Atton snorted. "No more than last time," he said bitterly. "I remember something about cages, an assassin, and house arrest?"

Onasi smiled grimly at Nikita's pilot-Jedi. "He's a little overenthusiastic," he explained. "Not a terrible trait, but often irritating. But enough about him. Down to business." He went back behind his desk and sank into the chair. His restlessness, Nikita sensed, had turned into something more like… anticipation.

Onasi pulled out a battered black datapad from a drawer. Nikita looked at it expectantly, but the Admiral just gazed at it without turning it on. Waves of melancholy seethed off him. Even Atton could sense it; Nikita saw his face scrunching in concentration. Onasi set the datapad down on the desktop after a moment, then looked Nikita dead in the eye. He spoke only nine words, but they carried a blow right to Nikita's heart.

"Does the name 'Revan Vaas' mean anything to you?"

It happened very quickly after that. In just about two seconds, the Admiral and Nikita were nose to nose, her violet and cyan lightsabers crossed only a few inches from his neck. She glared at him with the closest a Jedi could get to pure unadultered rage.

"How do you know that name?" she hissed. Her green eyes shone with a mix of aggression, fury, and something bordering on fear. How could he know? When Onasi did nothing but smile, she cinched her blades tighter to his skin and shrieked, "Tell me!"

"'Kita!" She looked up at Atton. Though he had his hand on his own orange blade, an automatic reaction to Nikita's leadership, he was giving her a very warning glare. The glare said plainly, Don't do it, 'Kita. You'll regret it.

She decided to heed him. Carefully, she drew the lightsabers away from Admiral Onasi's neck, though she kept them ignited and kept her eyes on his face. Backing up so she was once again flanked by Atton and Mandalore, she whispered, "Sorry."

The Admiral rubbed his neck and smiled wryly. "It's all right. The first time I aggravated her, she nearly ran me through with her vibroblade."

Nikita didn't need to ask who 'her' was. She knew. She knew that name as easily as she knew her own. She knew how close that name was to her heart. Almost as surely, she knew that the Admiral was hiding something. Again she thought How could he know? She twirled her violet blade deftly in her hand and narrowed her eyes at Onasi. "I ask again – how do you know that name?"

Onasi surveyed her face, then wordlessly handed her the datapad. She snatched it away, reading the words written by the woman she thought had been lost. The dark lettering blurred across her vision. True Sith… Malachor… hole in the Force…

"She knew…" she murmured. She squeezed her eyes shut to fight the sudden need to cry. All of Revan's memories had been lost, and still she remembered Nikita. She worried about her. As the sudden wave of sadness past, Nikita read another line near the bottom. Her eyes snapped up to the Admiral. "You and her… together?"

Admiral Onasi – Carth – nodded. "I was on the Star Forge journey with her, when she killed Malak. Me, Canderous, Mission, Bastila, Juhani, Jolee, HK-47, and T3-M4." Nikita started at the last two names. "I have T3 and HK now. They're part of my crew," she told him, feeling a warm little glow at having a connection to Revan with her all along. Onasi's eyes widened slightly, but Nikita was on a roll now. The name of Bastila struck a familiar chord. She spun around to face Mandalore. "You said Bastila's name on the ship," she said accusingly.

Onasi glared at the heavily armored Mandalorian. "Now why would you say that?" he asked. His voice was thick with suspicion. "What's she to you, Mandalore?"

Mandalore snorted. "Oh, come on, Republic. Even you aren't that stupid, are you?" he asked bitingly. The Admiral's jaw dropped. Obviously he knew that voice. To Nikita's surprise, Mandalore removed his helmet to show the face of a man with short cut graying hair and a battle scarred face.

Onasi leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter. "Canderous!" he shouted. "I should have known! You always manage to get involved with the good stuff."

Atton was looking very confused by this point. His eyes darted between Mandalore and Onasi. "Wait…" he said slowly. "You two destroyed the Star Forge with Revan?" When they nodded, he looked at Nikita. "Well, how do you know her then? I know you followed her, but…"

Nikita rolled her eyes. "Think, Atton," she told him. "Revan Vaas. Nikita Vaas." She paused a moment to let it sink in. Then Atton's eyes bulged, and he gasped, "Your sister?!" Nikita nodded, eyes shining. She grinned apologetically at Carth. "Sorry about threatening you," she said. "Knowing Rev's last name… well, not many people do, at least no one who's alive still."

Carth smiled back. "I can see that. She was… vicious." Nikita laughed at that. "You have no idea." Suddenly, she remembered one of the last lines of the datapad, and her happiness dimmed like a dying light. Glancing sidelong at Carth's face, she asked, "How many years has she been gone now?"

Carth's smile vanished almost instantly. He looked down. "Five in two weeks," he whispered. It was obvious he knew to the day how long the woman he loved had been missing, and from the tone of Revan's message about five years, he was obviously worried sick.

Nikita felt pity for him for a second, but then looked at him again. From his stooped position, it was obvious he didn't yet have plans to follow her sister. A sick wave of anger swept through her, and she snapped, "Oh, pick up your head. Come on!"

He looked up. "What?" he asked confusedly. Nikita looked up at the ceiling exasperatedly as if asking for some divine help. "Get the old crew together! Have a meeting! Let's go get her!" Carth looked skeptical at her sudden enthusiasm. "We don't have a ship. We don't know where she went."

Nikita could have laughed at him if she didn't think it would make him clam up again. "Hello? We have the fracking Hawk! That's all the ship we need!" Atton looked swiftly at her. "Will we all fit?" he asked.

Nikita rounded on him, and he grimaced. No one liked to be on the brunt of the Exile's annoyance. "We'll make room!" she snapped. "I'm going with Onasi after my sister, no questions asked." Mandalore smiled at her. "That a girl. I can see how you two are related. Surprised I didn't get it earlier."

Carth's worry had turned to determination. Apparently, Nikita had pushed just the right buttons to turn his nerves into a burning hope. "Well, we can get a hold of three of the old crew right now," he announced. With a flourish, he produced a remote from the same drawer he had produced the datapad. They all stared at it, uncomprehending.

Carth pressed a button, and a large holoscreen lit up on the far wall. Mandalore whistled. "Nice toys, Republic," he said appreciatively. In the holo, Nikita could see three people – an older man, a Cathar, and a young and pretty Jedi. Figuring she should let Carth handle it, she stepped off to the side.

"Hey! Bastila!" Carth yelled. The younger Jedi turned around. With a start, Nikita recognized her, and sidled off to the side to hide behind Atton. "Carth!" she said, surprised. Yep, same Bastila. Formal, poised, and that accent that grated on Nikita's eardrums. "I though we agreed no contact unless it was an emergency?"

"This is one," he said grimly. He quickly explained the situation to Bastila, who was looking more stunned by the second. "I heard about the attack, but I never realized…" Bastila murmured. "So the lass's sister is here now?" the old man asked curiously, obviously looking for a glimpse of Nikita, who was using her shortness to hide behind Atton. She did not like the public eye – years of being in exile had taught her to keep her head low at all times, a habit that was only just starting to fade with the return of the Force.

It was Canderous who answered the old man's question. "Yeah, that's right, Bindo." Bastila did a double take. "Canderous!" Even through the fuzzy holo, Nikita could tell she was blushing. She smiled broadly. Now what would make Little Miss Perfect blush? she thought wickedly.

Juhani fixed the awkward situation with a smooth "It is nice to see you again, Canderous." Atton yawned, causing all heads to turn to the pilot. "Enough with the pleasantries. Contact the others. We don't want to saty here forever." His obnoxiousness earned him a sound whack on the back of the head from the handle of Nikita's lightsaber.

Carth laughed, though Nikita could see pain etched on his face. She would have bet all the credits she had that her sister had once done something similar to him. He really misses her, she thought. Her determination doubled.

"Well, I gotta contact Zaalbar. Mission can be here in five minutes, but I don't know how fast that carpet can get a ride off Kashyykk," Carth told the three Jedi. "Come to the Citadel Station as soon as you can."

"Right. See you soon, Carth." The holo fizzed out.

Onasi turned to face the trio again. He clapped his hands together. "All right then. Come on, we have a rescue to organize!" Nikita gave a true, honest smile. "Now you're speaking our language."

---

Later that night, Nikita lay restless on her bunk in the Hawk. She could hear the slip-flip of a deck of cards that told her Atton was sleepless too. Unable to get comfortable or still her mind, she rose from her bunk and slipped silently towards the medbay.

She saw Atton in the main hold, sitting by himself but playing as if for two people. In her mind, she heard his words from what seemed like eons ago: They won't be able to hurt you. Because you'll be here, playing pazaak with me. Her heart yearned to go join him, knowing exactly what would happen in the dark desertedness of the Hawk. Her brain, though, resisted. It would bring too much pain to you both. It can't ever be, she thought, and turned away from him towards the medbay. If she had looked back, she might have seen the tensing of his shoulders and the suddenly angry grip of his hands on the deck.

But she didn't, and continued on. When she got to the medbay, she felt the now-familiar tightening of her chest in emotional agony.

Mira lay perfectly still, seemingly asleep if not for the fact that her eyes were wide open and staring at something Nikita couldn't see with an apparent horror. Once you saw the eyes, the illusion of sleep disappeared. Her hands were clenched so tight and unmoving her bloodred nails were digging into her palms. Mira's mouth was slightly open, and if you looked at it at the right angle, you could tell the painted lips were opening for a scream. Nikita could never look at her for long – the overwhelming despair weakened her mind immensely.

If Mira's state devastated her mind, Bao-Dur's was a physical sort of pain. Barely stable despite combined efforts from Visas, Atton, Mical, and herself, the hole in his stomach remained. The edges were sealed, but the flesh had been cut away. Nikita had no way of knowing what had been removed unless she reopened the wound, which might kill him. So for now Bao lay there, arm barely flickering, dead-faced, with a hole right through him. Every time she saw him, Nikita felt like she had a hole through her too.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but tears slid out down her cheeks anyway. Touching each of their unmoving faces, she dropped to her knees. Since she was a Jedi, she wasn't much of a believer in higher powers, but now she prayed to any one that might be out there for their safety. On a more earthly level, Nikita whispered brokenly into the stillness of the ship, "Please, please let us be able to find Rev. She's the only one who can fix this. Please, Rev, please still be alive…"

So there you have it. Now, where is Revan? What does Nikita have against Bastila? What shall happen to Mira and Bao?

--xIgnoranceIsBlissx--