[A/N: Well. It's been about a million years since I updated, but I do intend to finish. There will be ten chapters total, the same for Exile's Word. Thinking about a small sequel but I'm not sure yet. Thanks to Jocasta Silver and SeriousSubwayFlirting for reviews!]
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I'm relieved when I finally catch sight of Khoonda in the distance.
"What the Republic needs to realize is that..." I hear both of your steps behind me, along with the kid prattling on, as non-stop as when we met him just a few hours ago.
"You mentioned crystals, earlier?" you ask. I continue ahead until his voice fades, keeping a good distance between us, though your eyes remain on my back.
At the ship, I listen to your voices and steps echoing vaguely around the metal halls while I isolate myself back in the cockpit. I'm about to get up to bother Bao-Dur when I hear your light steps behind me again.
"We're going to explore that cave we mentioned, the one with the lightsaber crystals. If you want to join us," you announce, not bothering with any transitions or small talk.
I want to jump at the chance, if only just to avoid being alone in the ship with the witch and the trash compacter.
"Great, more Jedi stuff. I'll pass," I scoff, instead. You blink at the unwarranted condescension in my tone.
"If that's what you want."
"Yeah."
"Alright," you say, turning to go. You pause in the entrance, turning back to me. "If you'd give him a chance... he's proving quite useful."
"Sure, if you like them young..." I comment snidely.
"Alright, what's the problem now?" you question calmly, but I can feel the irritated undercurrents in your stare.
"I don't trust him and I don't like him," I say, shrugging petulantly. You cross your arms, still studying me.
"Atton... do you like anyone?"
When I choose not to reply, you leave, sighing softly under your breath. A few minutes later, I watch the three of you walking towards the plains through the dashboard windows of the ship, part of me regretting declining your offer.
The atmosphere of the room abruptly shifts and I tense up, counting cards and picturing you in your underwear back on Peragus by instinct.
It's nothing personal, beautful. It just makes the witch think twice before probing around my brain.
"Fool," Kreia growls by way of greeting, as if the harsh coldness she radiates hasn't already announced her.
I have a bad feeling about this.
I clench the arm rests as I feel her presence creep in my mind.
"More prepared this time; perhaps you're only half as simple as you appear..." I hear her as if from a distance while I try to keep control, but the numbers and words and images that usually work blend together and are useless as she worms her way in.
"Stop..." I manage to choke out through gritted teeth. I loathe that the syllable spills out pleading from my lips. I collect small consolation that the 'please' sitting behind my teeth never leaves my mouth.
The hag ignores me, tunneling further into my consciousness until I'm clutching my head and slumping forward out of my seat, my knees hitting the floor with a thud.
My hands are around your neck.
My arms shake while my fingers bruise your throat, effectively closing off your air supply as I watch your pretty eyes roll back in your head.
I close my eyes.
No.
My hands are around Her neck, watching the life slip from Her eyes. I let go when Her pulse slows to almost nothing. I breathe heavily from the adrenaline rush as if I need to suck in all the air I've just denied Her. With Her vision glazed over, She makes eye contact with me one last time.
I can't breathe, I can't see anything but bright white light, and I know it's Her doing this to me, and I hate Her for it.
I feel pressure like I'm deep underwater, and voices in my head.
I scramble back, reeling from the truth she's awakened in me, the stark possibilities- the naked potential.
She's been telling the truth about me the whole time and now I can't go back to the time before Her.
Why did she do this to me?
I slice her throat shakily with a vibroblade dagger to make sure and run as soon as I'm able.
I'm home.
I'm on Alderaan for the first time in a long time, walking into my parents' house. The entryway is neat and pristine, as if it hasn't seen a visitor in ages. Maybe it hasn't.
I continue down the hallway, seeing no indications of life and hearing even less. In the doorway at the end of the hall, I pause at the sight of someone seated in a chair by the window. I approach her as quietly as I would a target.
She doesn't notice me until I'm right in front of her and she looks up at me with pale green eyes.
"Have you seen my son?" she asks, reaching out to clutch my sleeve. I look away from her blank, searching eyes.
"It's me, Ma. It's Jaq." She continues to look at me but doesn't see; my heart feels like it's crawling up into my throat.
"Do you know where Jaq's gone?" she asks again. I sigh.
"I'm Jaq, Ma."
"She won't recognize you," a familiar voice informs me. I turn to face her, stepping away from our mother, who turns back to the window. Her light viridian eyes rake over me critically. "You look awful."
"Where's Dad, Tahna?" I ask, ignoring the remarks.
"He's gone, Jaq. He died over a year ago. You'd know if you had bothered to answer any of our messages while you were off trying to play war hero," she snipes, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Her hair is tied back severely; dark and thick like mine. She's not as slim as she used to be, and her features are stern, though she's aged well.
I notice a ring around her finger and swallow uncomfortably.
"Well, I'm back now. I'm home," I try, trying not to think of my dead father I hadn't known to mourn.
"The real soldiers came back ages ago. I don't know where you've been. I don't want to know what you've done. I only want you to leave."
"Tahna... Where am I supposed to go?" I ask helplessly, startled but not surprised by the venom in her tone. It's what I deserve.
"I don't care. Don't you see that I have enough people to care for? You always said you never needed us to take care of you, so this is exactly what you wanted," she reminds me of my not-so-amicable departure.
"Please... I just-" I attempt to reason with her again. My sister- Tahna exhales impatiently.
"If you need transport money, I'll give it to you. I just want you out of here." I scowl at her as she glares defiantly back.
I have no family.
Pangs of anger and defeat and sadness build in my chest and I feel the urge to lash out at her, to hurt her, when she shoves credits into my hands and reminds me where the door is.
The remorse I feel tells me I'm not Jaq- not exactly myself anymore, but the hatred, the voice that reminds me I'm more powerful than she is tells me he's still there.
I don't harm her, though the dark part of me tells me I can.
I leave without another word.
When I catch myself in a mirror, I don't recognize the person - sallow skin, yellowing eyes. He looks sick, diseased. This is Jaq.
I don't know him anymore; I don't know me anymore.
I shed the name; I shed everything I've ever known.
I have nothing.
"That her? That the Jedi?"
I'm cuffed and seated near a small group of workers when I look up to see a few people being brought in stretchers. A few soldiers and the woman in question, face turned in the opposite direction so that all I can see is the back of a head of black hair.
Jedi. The word brings distaste to my lips, but I ignore the implications.
"Hey, you think she'd object to a little fun before we ship her off to the Exchange?" the leader asks, and my stomach turns. Just some Jedi, not my problem, I remind myself. "Think it's true, what they say about Jedi?" His three companions have the decency to look uncomfortable. I look away.
"You're fracked up, Coorta," one of them finally pipes up. "That's sick."
"Yeah?" Coorta shrugs. "I'll also be rich and off this rock soon..."
"Ah... so you did know..."
The room comes back into focus, my face pressed against the cold metal floor.
Sure, I'd heard about the bounty on you, angel- who hadn't?
Wasn't my business anymore, though.
Card-counting, juma, lying... I don't mind those vices. Enjoy them, even.
But I figured my Jedi-hunting was the only habit I'd kicked for good.
"Find... what you're- looking for, you... fracking sadistic... ancient witch?" I gasp against the floor as I watch her footsteps recede from the cockpit.
"Just be grateful I haven't made you Him again," she replies darkly without even looking back at me. "Yet..."
The threat lingers in the air.
It's a long while before I can breathe normally and stand of my own accord and it's gotten dark by that time as well.
You return to the ship shortly after and I head for the engine room where I hear your voice emanating from.
"What took so long?" I question, entering just as the kid leaves.
"Solved a problem and gave us a few more," you shrug slightly, sighing as Bao-Dur clears the workbench. If you're discouraged or exasperated, I can't tell by your tone, but the look in your eyes shows you're preoccupied. "We found Master Vrook, but... well, it's complicated. We'll need to stop by Khoonda in the morning."
"Great," I reply, not meaning it to sound as sarcastic as it comes out. I take note of a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. Bao-Dur wordlessly takes the pouch you're holding off your hands and you give him a small smile in thanks as he carries it over to the workbench and begins to unpack its contents.
"Atton..." you begin, lowering your voice though I'm sure Bao-Dur can hear anyway. "You don't owe me anything, if that's the only reason you're staying." I blink, caught off guard. And yeah, most of the reason I'm staying is because I'm sure the witch would make good on her threats. The other reasons I'm not so sure about. Maybe I'd feel guilty knowing you're flying around the galaxy without a pilot to tell you when something bad's coming your way. Maybe.
"You trying to get rid of me, angel?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and not answering the question. The corner of your lip rises, though it's not exactly a smile.
"If I say yes, would the reverse psychology of it encourage you to stay?" you retort before joining Bao-Dur at the table. I walk over the few feet to observe out of pure curiosity.
In what seems like no time at all, with the help of Bao-Dur, you're holding a lightsaber in your hands.
"Don't tell me you're going red, angel," I tease, but I don't think you fully hear me, the way you're looking at that metal tube like someone's found your missing pet gizka.
I watch as you ignite it, the life that dances in your eyes as you swing it around experimentally, switching hands every so often. I'm so distracted by how alive you look that it takes me a few moments to notice that the green of your 'saber is a little off, a subtle, paler green than the ones I used to see.
The faster you twirl it, the brighter you seem, and I feel my lips curling despite myself as I watch you practice as naturally as if the lightsaber is an extension of your arm.
I can't exactly place the feeling of being in the same room as you when you have this energy.
I want to laugh when I realize what it is.
I never thought I'd feel admiration for a Jedi- not even a half-Jedi.