The smell of a dark and filthy street in Coruscant's lower levels hung in the air as thickly as the centuries-old grime that covered its walls. Not even sewage and garbage rodents trekked down the alley, fearful of something invisible to the humanoid eye. In the corridor, a single flickering glowlamp hovered above the alley's only door, damaged and slanted ajar, leaving open an ominous staircase that ascended into a pitch black void within the neighboring building. It could easily have been years since a sentient being had purposely stepped foot on the street, one of the hundreds if not thousands that had been similarly abandoned in the neglected and deteriorating Undercity, and it was there that a former king found brief refuge.
Shivering in the cold of the darkness, Veon Banarecc clutched his bleeding right forearm to his chest. No longer feeling the pain of the gash's damage, he gripped it with his other hand as best he could with numb fingers. He focused on slowing his breathing through his chattering teeth, listening intently to the sounds that filtered down the street through the dark. With his back flat against the wall, he warily watched the alley's dimly-lit section ahead of him; surely he had lost his attacker.
It had all happened so fast. In the weeks following the Dalon Palace collapse, Veon had uncovered the illegal operation his most trusted officials had been operating, one that removed troublesome Governors from their posts without drawing public attention. He knew that something had changed in his most outspoken opponents just days before the disaster, but he never suspected that such drastic measures had been taken in his defense. In his shock, he had assumed the blame for the whole process, taking the fall for his closest friends, most of which were killed in the Palace's rubble. Broken and miserable, he was quickly sentenced to exile without a proper trial, and he hadn't even the will or the strength to dispute his punishment.
That was well over a month ago, and he had been on the run ever since. Mysterious strangers seemed to appear at his side every time he was in need of shelter, and he stayed in minimal but comfortable apartments for a few days before being moved to the next. It felt to him like he was outrunning someone, and unfortunately, just minutes ago, that someone had caught up with him.
The attack was poorly coordinated at best. His attacker seemed to be just as surprised to find him as Veon was to encounter the stranger, but somehow, the 45-year-old managed to fend off an armed assassin, escape, and avoid being tracked even though his arm, gouged by the assassin's vibroblade, had bled uncontrollably at his side.
Trash rustled in a nonexistent breeze up the alley, and Veon held his breath, listening and watching for other movement. The glowlamp hummed intermittently as its light wavered off and on, but nothing else moved. With the strain, his fatigued eyes lost their focus, and he shook his head to blink them out of their blur. Still, nothing moved up ahead and the alley remained silent.
Though he was sure he remained in danger, Veon had little strength left; the night's biting cold was making quick work of what energy he had left after he began battling his assassin. He was half-tempted to sit on the filthy, millennia-old floor and await the inevitable, but each time he felt he had reached the end of his physical reserve, something seemed to refuel him. As he stood alone in the alley, it felt almost like a familiar presence surrounded him, calming his frayed nerves and his racing mind, allowing him to focus and think clearly. Wanting desperately to believe that a friend was with him, he blindly extended his bloodied hand into the empty air, but it found nothing. Despite the disappointment, he took in a deep breath and set his jaw. Once again filled with the drive to keep going, he took one last glance up the alley before he turned and continued on into its penetrating darkness in search of shelter for the night.
"I'm sending you the coordinates now. No weapons, no droids, and no comlinks. Sheridan out."
Koril stared blankly at the console in front of him, idly wondering what he had gotten himself into. Not only had he just painstakingly navigated Hoth's dangerous asteroid field, but he was being forced to deal with someone who wasn't too keen on being bothered. Elena sat silently beside him in the Celestia's co-pilot chair, having helped him navigate the yacht starship through the asteroids earlier, though she, too, looked equally thrilled about their upcoming meeting with the cryptic Horatio Sheridan.
It had been nearly two weeks since King Verojec's crowning, and both Koril and Elena had been busier than ever. During the day, Elena helped organize and distribute the constant influx of medical supplies, and Koril ferried newly elected Governors and their staffs to their various offices about the city. Both were exhausted by nightfall each day, and they had hardly seen each other, except when they woke up in the morning in Koril's room. Like before, Elena had stayed at Koril's side protectively when they weren't flanked by armed guards. Though a small detail kept night watch just outside his door, Elena slept beside him, keeping herself wrapped up in a thick blanket so her cold skin wouldn't disturb his sleep.
After a day of rest, the new king had ordered them to have a week for themselves before they were to take up new duties. They both decided that it was their best chance at getting to the icy planet before they got bogged down in work again, and thankfully a friend of Koril's had retrieved his father's yacht from Coruscant just in time for them to make modifications to it in preparation for their trip to Hoth.
"Perhaps you should take some form of a gift as a gesture of good intent?" Kaydee offered naively, strapped into a chair behind the two. "Food rations, for example?"
"Somehow," Koril sighed, "I think that will only raise his suspicions." He looked over at Elena. "Best do as the man says." She narrowed her eyes defiantly.
"I'm bringing my lightsaber. I'll hide it, but I'm not leaving it here."
Though hesitantly, Koril ceded and nodded after a moment, deciding he didn't want to be completely defenseless, either. He had no idea what to expect from this Sheridan; Merli'il had never mentioned him before that Koril could remember.
Under Koril's direction, the Celestia groaned with protest, enduring the strain of entering the icy atmosphere while tiny clicks sounded all about her hull as ice crystals in the air collided with the durasteel. Though the landing approach was a little more difficult than he had attempted in a long while with strong crosswinds and whirling snow and ice, it was still smooth and the yacht settled easily on the snow-covered landing pad within a large, well-lit cavern. Out the viewport, Koril saw someone standing near a power generator towards the back of the cave, alone.
"I don't like this," Elena said quietly beside him. Koril tossed a sideways glance at her as he felt her tension.
"Maybe we should've visited your family first." Elena only stared ahead, focused.
Once again, Kaydee serenely offered advice from her seat behind them. "Master Koril, do be careful. As I said before, Master Merli'il never spoke of this Horatio Sheridan, so please, exercise the utmost caution."
Though he didn't need the advice, he nodded his thanks to the droid as he and Elena pulled on heavy coats and left the cockpit silently, walking down the boarding ramp into the cave's biting cold. Before they had even rounded the ship's aft, Horatio met them, leveling a rough blaster rifle at Koril's head. Koril froze instantly, though he put his arm out beside himself to both stop and protect Elena who was just a step behind him.
"You should have known better than to bring a Jedi," Horatio said with a vicious edge. "I said no weapons."
Koril's breath hardly condensed in the air in front of his face, though he spoke calmly. "We're just here for Jaala's things, nothing more."
Still with his blaster aimed at Koril, Horatio extended his hand to Elena, palm up. Elena was motionless beside him, reciprocating Horatio's scathing gaze.
"Give me your lightsaber, or we end this right now."
"No," Elena said defiantly, surprising Koril. She continued angrily. "Like Koril said, we're only here for Jaala's things. You put us on the defensive before we had even landed, and here you stand with a blaster in our faces. Unless you have a valid reason for perceiving us as a threat and for forcing us to disarm, we at least should be allowed some form of defense."
Horatio stood defiantly as well, moving only to press the blaster's icy barrel against Koril's temple. Tensing, Koril silently looked over at Elena as she, too, met his gaze. Though he made no indication of what he wanted Elena to do, Koril released a breath as she resignedly reached into her heavy jacket and retracted her gloved hand, tightly gripping her silver lightsaber.
Curiously, Horatio flinched, though Koril was sure the man had seen the weapon of a Jedi before. Perplexed, Koril watched the two carefully. Elena was still holding her saber's hilt, but Horatio made no move to take it.
"You're a Rys'tihn, too?" Horatio asked Elena, seemingly taken aback. Koril felt Horatio lower his blaster, and he was surprised to see the expression on the man's face lightened as he looked at Elena. Had Horatio seen her crest? Though he was confused, Koril answered with a nod; hopefully, she will be soon enough, he thought, so long as they kept away from Coruscant.
Releasing a foggy breath, Horatio eased and holstered his blaster at his waist. "Sorry," he said quietly. "Merli'il had...specific instructions." Horatio looked at Koril apologetically. "You were supposed to be alone, last I heard."
Still on edge, Koril remained silent, his muscles stiff as the frozen ice beneath his feet. He hadn't feared for his life at all, even while Horatio had leveled the blaster at his head, nor had he worried for Elena. A strange feeling held him the entirety of the tense exchange, one that bordered on apathy. For one thing, it wouldn't have mattered if Elena had been right beside him if Horatio had fired a bolt; there was no recovering from that kind of damage. But at the moment the blaster touched his skin, he half felt...invincible. He knew that Horatio wouldn't fire. The vision he kept seeing in his dreams was showing him how he was going to die, he had sadly decided, and it wasn't because of a quick blaster bolt to the head.
"This way," Horatio said quickly, bringing Koril out of his reflection. Elena took Koril's hand tightly as they followed the man into a tunnel that was carved into the deeper reaches of the cave they had landed in. Though the artificial light from the cave had dissipated, the tunnel's walls themselves seemed to glow, radiating dim light as the three trekked on into the surrounding rock, encountering warmer air as the minutes went by. Koril was nearly sweating in the heavy coat by the time they reached a door where Horatio keyed in a code, opened the door, and stepped aside.
With Elena at his side, Koril took a few steps into the room, looking around, awed. Though he was used to the opulence of the Manor and the Dalon Palace, a few of the pieces of artwork that lined the small room would've easily outshone both collections combined. Dazzling sculptures and hanging artwork from various cultures and species carelessly sat about the stale room, having not been touched for almost twelve years. Jaala's husband Tarin Scorne had been a collector of...eccentric art, but Jaala's tastes were more refined. While Koril couldn't name the artists or the cultures that had produced the pieces, he knew their approximate worth.
"Everything in here was hers," Horatio said from the doorway. "I was told the information you're looking for was stored in her astromech, which was destroyed when she was killed."
Koril turned to Horatio, confused. "Then what are we here for?"
Strangely, Horatio seemed hesitant. "You're here...for what I know. What she told me before she died."
Koril narrowed his eyes, glancing at Elena. "We had to come all this way for you to tell us this?" Elena's hand tightened around his.
"Your father's instructions," Horatio shrugged. "I had no say in it."
"Fine," Koril said as diplomatically as he could. "Why did she tell you about it, and not my father?"
Again, Horatio shrugged. "I suspect it had to do with the way her family treated her. Aside from Merli'il, Jaala had no ties to the Rys'tihns after she moved here. Maybe she didn't want it getting back to them just yet." Horatio mistook Koril's silence for confusion, but Koril didn't stop him as he continued. "I worked for Jaala. She was a great businesswoman, but she always carried that...extra weight, knowing in the back of her mind that her family had disowned her. Her hunt for this unknown ancestor was almost an obsession, fueled by her desire to be welcomed back, or at least, be acknowledged as a Rys'tihn again.
"She only ever told me a few details of what she was doing. She had said that though she loathed politics, she was interested in her family's history and researched it often when she was young. She remembered stumbling across a strange void in parental information on one of the Heirs. I'm sure you know, but she said it was strange because even though both parents don't have to be publicly named, the official record kept by the Ghost Heirs should have listed them. One was missing."
"Trauger's father," Elena answered. Horatio nodded.
"Yeah, that's the one. Somehow Jaala had traced the movements of the mother to Hoth. Trauger's mother returned to Paneau within a few weeks, and Jaala noticed that her return roughly coincided with the first Jedi, a Hoth native, being appointed to a Royal Board. Historically, the event was noted in Paneau's records, but all traces of the Jedi's name had been erased. Jaala was working to find the link in the records here. As I said, what she had managed to dig up was kept in her astromech and had been on board with her when her ship was destroyed."
"Koril," Elena said softly at his side, confirming his thoughts, "the Prophecy..."
Now he knew why it was important. He no longer had any doubts about his Force-sensitivity, because now he knew that he was related to this Jedi, whoever he was, and that was why the Rys'tihns guarded the Prophecy. It was a family secret to be protected.
"Do you know anything else that could help us?" Elena asked. Horatio shook his head.
"No, Jaala wouldn't tell me much more. I think I'm the only one she told as much as she did, save for Tarin." After a brief silence, Horatio sighed lightly and began to step out of the room. "Close the door behind you when you leave. Anything left behind will be forfeit and sold."
Koril watched Horatio leave, still somewhat in a daze from the revelations. He suddenly choked in the stuffy room, coughing as his throat constricted in the stifling air. Elena nodded as she looked at him sympathetically.
"What do you want to do with all this?" she asked quietly. Koril looked around, perusing the various artifacts and items. He dropped her hand as she turned the opposite direction, but he watched her as she wandered.
"You see anything you like?"
Elena looked back at him with a bemused expression, seeming to think he was joking. Realizing he wasn't, her eyes fell as she returned her attention to a nearby metal sculpture of an elegant bird.
"I hardly have a home, let alone a place to put any of these. What would I do with them?" She looked back at him, smiling lightly.
"Give something to your family?"
Elena's smile broadened as she shook her head and turned again. "You pick out something."
As he turned a small box over in his palm that was tucked into his coat pocket, Koril's expression fell with anxiety. He hardly had a chance to correct it before she turned back around to him.
"What's wrong?" she asked quickly. He simply shook his head, smiling a little to dismiss her concern. Predictably, she didn't look convinced, so he stepped over to her, took one of her hands in both of his, and looked into her eyes.
"Do me a favor," he said quietly. Curious, Elena raised her eyebrows as he gave her a small grin and continued.
"The next time there's a blaster in my face...let me do the talking."
Veon Banarecc tugged the rough blanket around himself more tightly as he crouched on the cold, durasteel floor. Every kind of alarm and warning bell was going off in his mind. The stranger was quick to offer him the things he needed most, but he was too tired and too hungry to care. His old, aching body was giving out on him long before he was prepared to stop fighting.
"What do you expect from me?" Veon asked the man warily. Though he had done his best to sound strong, his voice was hoarse from his lengthy fatigue. "I carry nothing of value."
"Like I said before," the stranger responded coolly, "I know who you are, and I know from whom you're running. With a quick transmission, I can call off your pursuer and you'll be able to freely move about the planet once more. All I ask for in return is your...help."
Partially illuminated by a light behind him, the man had kept his face strategically shrouded in shadow ever since Veon had encountered him. He was quick to give the starving exile a few pieces of fresh fruit, which, in retrospect, Veon decided was quite dangerous to accept from a stranger, but Veon felt oddly at ease with the man's calmness. He seemed...aloof, but keenly interested, for whatever reason. He had been cryptic at best.
"How could I possibly help you?"
"You're friends with one Mand Natiyr, correct?"
Veon narrowed his eyes. He had nearly come to consider Rech, Mand, and Elena as adopted children; they had all become so dear to him as they had fought his planet's battles loyally at his side at Paneau's most desperate moments. Though he still shivered from the cold of the past two nights, he gave no answer. The man continued, undaunted.
"She is...of interest to me. I simply want to talk with her concerning her disappearance five years ago. All I need for you to do is have her contact me."
Veon stared, unsure of how to respond to such an...unusual request. The exchange seemed uneven, but Veon guessed that was the stranger's intent. Still, he said nothing. He wasn't about to fold.
"I am a scientist," the man said, still composed, "but I also have a wide range of powerful connections, both legitimate, and not. I can help her fill in the missing information she seeks on her family, the Tarthos." After another moment's pause, the man went on, determined as ever to logically win Veon's trust. "There is no danger to either side of this arrangement, though I know you have no basis on which to judge my statements." As if pacing in thought, the man stepped to the side, finally revealing his face in the light. Under spiky blond hair, his features were angular and narrow, and his eyes were strong, easily penetrating Veon as he carefully calculated his next statement. No movement was made unnecessarily; for lack of any other explanation, Veon could only categorize the man as...droid-like.
"I am, at the same time, a businessman. What I have proposed to you is simply a business transaction: I provide you a service by removing the threat to your life, and you repay me with information to which you fortuitously have access. There is nothing more, nothing less to this."
Veon struggled to find his voice again. "Why go through me? Why not contact her yourself?" Amused, the man smiled wanly.
"Just because I operate by science and logic doesn't mean that I am blind to the fortune of opportunity." With another pause, the man's expression neutralized. "You were once a man with power. I, on the other hand, was once nothing and have risen to my position. You and I both know that information levels the playing field. It has the capacity to return power that was lost, amplify what power remains, or shred what power was never intended for one to have.
"That is all I am interested in anymore: information, harmless unless used well."
Veon rested his head on the wall behind him, quickly losing the strength to continue resisting. As suspicious as he was, something was telling him to take the offer. But why? His self-preservation instincts had served him decently so far; how could he put such a dangerous uncertainty on Mand just to save himself? His safety would be somewhat guaranteed, since the second part of the deal required him to be alive to fulfill it, but he couldn't bring himself to imperil Mand like that, not after all she had been through recently...
Take his offer, Veon.
Startled, Veon shook his head. His fatigue had produced an imaginary voice in his mind? He had never been this out of sorts. But strangely, like the times before when he had nearly given up, a familiar presence fueled and awakened him as he sat. He looked the man square in the eye to decline, but again, the voice interrupted him.
It'll be alright, Veon. Please, love, take it.
Veon felt his heart stop briefly in realization. The presence he had been feeling at his lowest moments was the Force spirit of his wife, Tascit. Though it had been almost two months since her death in the Dalon Palace collapse, she had been with him throughout his exile on the city-planet. No wonder he hadn't completely lost the will to continue; she wasn't going to let him stop.
Though he hoped he hadn't lost his mind in the weeks of his isolation, he put his faith in her judgment, as he always had, and gave a quick nod to the stranger who was still awaiting his response. The man nodded, too, and offered Veon his hand. Cautiously, Veon stood and shook his hand, anxious as the other smiled.
"Congratulations, Veon Banarecc. In the next few minutes, you will have Tzymo Labs security at your disposal, and I, Jack Tzymo, will be your closest ally."
Moving a few of the sculptures and other various pieces from the small room took Koril and Elena little time, and they left the rest behind as they made their way to a nearby settlement in the planet's equatorial region where Elena's family lived. The Lyrans, like hundreds of other families, resided in a subterranean home connected to others by a network of lift tubes within the solid rock and ice. Elena had grown up in a more nomadic atmosphere with her clan, but since she had left for the Jedi Academy almost a decade ago, her family had adopted a more stationary life. The clan lived well as a collection of miners, cargo haulers, teachers, cooks, and medics, and Elena's parents had easily taken up teaching the clan's youngsters.
As she sat at the controls of the Celestia's cockpit, she was both nervous and excited about seeing her family and bringing Koril to them. In a way, she felt like she was being unfair to him. She had met his father months before they had become involved, so at that point, she was under nowhere near the same kind of pressure she was inadvertently putting Koril under. And though she was sure her parents would welcome him well, she was still anxious; she hadn't brought home a boyfriend like this before. How would Jeric react? Will her parents change their attitude towards him when they find out about his royalty status?
Koril's soft voice broke through her thoughts. "You okay?"
Elena instantly turned her head to him, nodding quickly. She must've had a strange expression on her face, judging by his concern. But satisfied for the moment, Koril sat back, returning his much needed attention to the controls. They were hardly a minute from landing near her family's home, and just as she had predicted before they left, a powerful snowstorm was slowing their approach. Though the equatorial region was the warmest, it produced the strongest weather, usually hampering any travel in the area for hours. Despite the warning Elena had given him, Koril insisted that he could handle it. So far, he was doing well.
A few more hundred meters of travel, and they would be safely underground. But for now, they were still in the air, and the swirling snow blinded the view out the Celestia's cockpit, forcing Koril to fly by the nav computer and sensors alone. Elena kept her gaze locked out into the bright white in front of the ship, scanning for any rocky outcroppings that might pop up suddenly. Her family's settlement was nestled underneath a majestic but compact mountain range. At least, she thought to herself, it was majestic when it wasn't an imminent threat to your life.
"See?" Koril said triumphantly beside her after few moments as they arrived at their destination. He had already slowed the ship, and soon it began descending. "That wasn't so dif--"
The Celestia gave a mighty lurch as she set down unevenly, throwing both Koril and Elena onto the consoles in front of them unexpectedly. Behind them strapped in the rear of the cabin, Kaydee gave a short surprised sound, her metal casing squeaking against her restraints. Elena was the first to recover, immediately turning to Koril to make sure he was alright. He was already sitting back up and nodding when she reached over to put a hand on the side of his face.
"I'm fine," he said with an embarrassed grin. "Pride's just hurt, that's all." Elena continued to search his eyes to be sure, but he finally turned back to the console, presumably checking to make sure the ship wasn't damaged.
"I'd better check the landing struts," he said resignedly. "And the nav sensor's calibration. We should've landed perfectly."
"It probably wasn't your fault. There could be snow compacted on the landing pad right now, making the surface lopsided."
Koril grinned again, glancing over at her. "I guess we'll find out." Elena smiled back, though it quickly faded as they both began redressing for their brief journey out into the cold. She tucked her lightsaber back onto her belt as she pulled her cream-colored heavy jacket over her shoulders, and she watched Koril do the latter, as well.
She was glad he wasn't anxious. And if he was, he was hiding it well. She wanted to ask him how he was feeling, but to be fair, she didn't think she could answer the same question herself. Or was it, she didn't want to answer?
With a light sigh, Elena watched Koril grab and pocket the gift they had decided to present her parents with. It was a beautiful gray and black small stone orb, intricately carved over its entire surface with elegant, familiar designs. Koril had said the stone was a piece of Paneau river art, an ancient tradition of creating such decorated stones to commemorate major life events and placing them in one of the seven major rivers on the capital continent. Though Elena had insisted that Koril keep it since it was one of the very few personal pieces in Jaala's collection, he wouldn't. Only reluctantly did she agree, though she had already decided it was the most appropriate gift to pick. While every other piece in that dank room was magnificent and most likely worth several thousand credits, the modest stone had simplicity on its side, as well as ease of transportation. Her parents would like that.
Koril had already pulled on his goggles and tugged his hood over his head when he turned and offered Elena his hand. She quickly did the same and took his hand tightly, stepping out with him into the mighty whirling winds that immediately blasted snow into the cabin before the Celestia's ramp had even fully descended.
Koril struggled to keep his expression neutral. He thought he had been through some serious intensive training in the Royal Navy, but he was sure he'd never encountered such an...interrogation.
Elena sat beside him at her family's dinner table, though dinner had long since been over. Elena's parents, Race and Sirema, sat across from him, and Elena's thirteen-year-old brother Jeric sat at the end of the table that was small enough to be almost completely covered by their plates, glasses, and meal serving bowls. Thankfully, Kaydee occupied herself in another room, conversing with various droids the Lyrans employed. He was glad his protocol droid was directing her conversational energy elsewhere; even without Kaydee's help, Elena's parents hadn't stopped asking him questions all night, and bored, Jeric hadn't said a word.
"Now, surely the New Republic offered at least some kind of assistance after that, right?" Sirema asked in the same inquisitive tone she had sported for the entirety of their two hour dinner. Koril shook his head.
"I don't want to get into the politics of it, but suffice it to say that we were still under suspicion. The fact that Admiral Armiger and his forces only attacked us and hadn't shown up anywhere else before or after wasn't helping. We weren't important enough." As Sirema nodded to his answer, he sat back a little and glanced at Elena who looked as tired as he felt. He took a long swig of emerald wine from his glass, but he was only recently beginning to feel its effects. The last half hour of conversation had migrated to topics he was reluctant to elaborate on, and finally Race seemed to understand his sentiments.
"Well, I'm sure you two are just exhausted. We can resume discussion after some decent sleep, yes?" With a smile, Race stood and began to pick up plates, and Koril followed suit. Sirema was quick to stop him, though.
"No, you don't," she said kindly. Koril almost counterprotested, but Elena shook her head at him, smiling a little. Reluctantly, Koril handed Sirema the dishes as Elena took his other hand and led him over to a living room couch.
"I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I should've warned you."
"What are you talking about?" he said with a grin. A yawn interrupted his next sentence. "That was...invigorating..." Elena laughed as they sat; Koril wrapped his arm around Elena's shoulders.
"I know you're tired," she said sympathetically, resting against him.
"Tired doesn't even begin to cover it."
At that, Elena sat up and looked at him properly, concerned. "You're not sleeping well."
Koril's grin also faded quickly, remembering why. With their conflicting schedules and concentration on aiding the governmental rebuilding efforts over the past two weeks, Elena seemed to have forgotten about his troubling dream, and he had conveniently forgotten to mention his Force-sensitivity, as well. He felt guilty, realizing that while they had been distracted from one another, at the same time, he hadn't made an effort to tell her about it. That was just as bad as keeping it from her intentionally in his mind. But was now the right time? He didn't want to overshadow the brief vacation they had together, but it had been hanging over his mind the entire time, and he had promised to tell her over two weeks ago.
"No, I'm not," he finally answered. She watched him intently, and he sighed lightly as he prepared his thoughts.
"Did they ever tell you the content of the visions Rech and Mand have been having?" Elena nodded hesitantly.
"Yes: the shuttle on Coruscant, five or six dark figures, and Force Lightning. Why?"
"I've been having the same dreams, before I knew about theirs."
At first Elena looked confused, but realization slowly took over. "Your soreness, that burn I found on your side..."
He nodded. "Force Lightning."
"But...how? How did you see what they..."
Koril remained silent, sure that she would figure it out. Moments later, their gazes locked. She was nearly speechless.
"...you're Force-sensitive," she breathed.
Again, he nodded. "Rech did some kind of...test." He attempted a grin, but he wasn't sure if it was actually visible. "Said that's why I'm a good pilot. Quick reflexes."
Elena's stunned gaze fell to the floor in front of her, her brows furrowed in thought. He wasn't quite sure what kind of a reaction it was until she suddenly spoke after a few moments, her expression lightening.
"That means that the Jedi who made the Prophecy...could be Trauger's father." She was almost smiling at the end of her statement, but Koril only became more serious, bringing to her attention another piece of information that was bothering him.
"...Elena, I'm Force-sensitive. The Prophecy?"
It took no time for her face to quickly fall, contorted by pain, as she realized what he meant. She rapidly corrected her expression, shaking her head defiantly.
"No. No, I refuse to believe that it means you. No. There are other Jedi."
"Who? You? Rech and Mand?"
"Noor, Arcturus, Kanomin, Lithess..." Elena's voice had become uncharacteristically shaky as she rattled off the names. They weren't comforting for him to know, anyway. As much as he wanted it to not be true, he had almost come to accept what he thought was his fate; he just had a few things to do first. He had started to respond when she continued, sounding almost scared.
"Koril, we don't even know where he is. How can he return when we can't even find him?"
"He'll turn up soon enough."
"Koril..." She stroked his jaw and then held his face in both of her hands, staring him straight in his eyes as she spoke strongly. "I am not going to let you believe that this is your death sentence. Do you understand me?"
Though he didn't fully agree, Koril nodded as best he could and embraced Elena tightly as she wrapped her arms around him, as well. The only way his vision and the Prophecy made sense was if he was the Jedi friend who perished. As the moments wore on, Elena only tightened her arms, not wanting to let go. He, too, held her tightly, not caring that her skin was frigid. Only when they heard footsteps approaching did they release, looking back to see who it was.
"There's a Master Noor asking to speak with you two, and he says it's urgent," Sirema relayed quietly. Both Koril and Elena stood quickly, and Koril followed as Elena led him to the comm station.
On a blurry screen dotted with static, Master Noor hardly withheld the news a second as they stepped up to the console, and he spoke quickly with obvious excitement.
"We've found him. Coruscant, the Laboratory District. He's weak and wounded, but very much alive."
Koril and Elena exchanged glances. Before he could say anything, Elena spoke first.
"I'll leave immediately."
"And I'll send you the location once you're en route." With a quick nod, the screen went blank, and Koril looked at Elena pointedly.
"We."
Elena calmly shook her head. "No, you have research on that Hoth Jedi to do. I'm going."
Knowing full well that it was a fight he wouldn't win, he gave in and sighed, thinking quickly. He took her right hand and stepped closer to her.
"Then promise me something," he said quietly. With a quick glance, he noticed Elena's family watching them intently, but Elena didn't seem to notice. She only looked at him.
"Promise me," he continued, "you'll come back to me." As she furrowed her brows in confusion, Koril reached into his pocket, and still holding her hand, he knelt down on one knee and held out a ring to her.
"...So you can marry me later."
