Chapter Twenty-Two: Noble Intentions

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"…and I'll shoot you right through your noble intentions."
- Captain James Hook, "Peter Pan" (2003)

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One Week Later

Devnos knew that he should pry Zekk's location out of Sanar, but he wanted to avoid her. Wanted to make sure that he was once more in control before he saw her tired face again. Sanar was evading him as well, not answering even Falat's knocks. Instead, she waited until the men were gone before her hand slipped out of the door to take in her tray of food. During the nights, when the others were asleep, she tip-toed out of her room and quietly cleaned her plate before putting things away. It wasn't like Sanar, and Devnos was nearly ready to knock the door down – not for information on Zekk, but to see if she was alright.

He knew she wasn't feeling well, but surely she had gotten over that by now? It had been over a month since she first began her fast. Viruses did not generally last so long, and, despite his better judgement, Devnos was increasingly worried for her.

For her – and…a great deal of other things.

Falat had stayed out of Sanar's way, and Devnos thought nothing of his apprentice's avoidance. The younger man had no connection with her, after all, and that was how Devnos wanted it.

Therefore, Devnos was more than a little surprised when Falat came to him and said, "Your sister isn't getting any better, Klis."

Devnos eyed the younger, sandy-haired man as one would stare at an insect that dared to crawl on one's food. "Why is that any of your concern?"

Falat bristled. "She knows something of Onyx's location; you can't exploit that resource if she dies."

Devnos banged his mug of caf down on his desk with a clank. "How did you come by that information?"

"You were shouting. I went to see what was wrong. Since you haven't set a specific course yet, I assume you haven't pried the answers out of her."

"Might I remind you who is the apprentice, and who is the master, Yn'paw?" He stretched Falat's last name disdainfully.

"Might I remind you, Klis, who we serve?" Falat snapped in return. "If you don't pluck it out of her, I will."

Devnos stood, his aura becoming noticeably more dangerous. "Finesse," he heard himself say, "is something you lack. Now leave me be, and watch a master retrieve the answers."

Falat nodded his acquiescence, albeit untrustingly. "Very well. But – remember: to do otherwise," his expression darkened, "would be treason against your emperor." With that warning, he left – fortunately, because Devnos was looking for someone to punch…reason, optional.

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Sanar didn't look up – not when he knocked, not when he entered. Although her burns had healed rapidly, every part of her ached, and her heart was no exception.

"Where is Zekk?"

She tried to roll over in bed, but stopped when her insides burned. "I don't know."

He was silent for a moment, watching her. "Have you been holed up in here because of your illness?"

Even sighing hurt. "It comes and goes."

Devnos accepted what she did not say. "Are you still sick in the mornings?"

"Why are you pretending to care?" she returned.

"Are you?" he repeated, ignoring her own question.

"I won't answer until you tell me."

He walked to her side of the bed, and crouched so that his eyes were level with her own. They had once traded these lines with grins, but his expression was inscrutable, only the barest hint of amusement fluttering in his eyes. "I asked first."

"So? I'm sick. I get special treatment."

"Sanar…"

A puff of her breath disturbed the hair in front of her face. "No energy to eat," she said shortly. "Everything tastes like sand." She shrugged. "But, sometimes…"

Again, he did not immediately respond. "I sent a bounty hunter to find information on Onyx's – Zekk's – lover. The bounty hunter has since disappeared. Is Jaina alive?"

From under the thick hair there was a pause, then a nod. "Yes."

"The line about her suffering severe head trauma, then, was a lie." Devnos had expected to feel anger, but only weariness swamped him.

"No."

"Explain?"

She swallowed, then brushed some of her hair out of her face. "You won't win, Devnos. Maybe you'll capture Jaina, maybe you'll lure Zekk in…but, in the end, you'll lose."

He stood abruptly but, with some hesitation, leaned back down again to pull the blankets up to her chin. "Get some sleep."

"Thanks," she murmured, too tired to be uncertain.

IT was furious, but Devnos ignored the pain. Nothing deadly had occurred, after all.

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Falat was making a nuisance of himself, so Devnos set him to locating Jaina Solo. He, meanwhile, sat in his room and agonized. The action had always been a part of his life, but for the first time in a long time, his brooding had nothing to do with how events affected him or his projects.

Like a broken holo, a list of Sanar's symptoms ran through his mind. The sickness, the chills, the paranoia… If it had been a mere virus, it would have faded away a month ago.

Sanar had suspected poison from the beginning. Now, her symptoms gave the appearance of agreeing with her. Was she right about him, too?

Maybe, IT cackled.

Devnos' mind flew. Had he done the deed and forgotten? Had IT…?

Larifx. Am I murdering my sister?

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Sanar considered getting up to comm and warn Jaina, which showed just how out of it she was. Attempting to leave her bed, however, sent ice, fire, and tiny, chomping monsters down her back, and she gave up on the noble idea.

Sleep brought only bizarre, disjointed dreams with no escape into her love's arms. When Sanar woke, she stared ahead blankly for hours before she recalled anything of her nightmares.

Blood – lots of it – on her hands. Incompleteness. Pain. Cries of anguish.

She shuddered. Had she been reliving Horaire's murder? The woman brooded on this gruesome possibility until another memory came – brown hair. It had been too long for Sanar, though, especially at the time of Horaire's death. Jaina, perhaps? Had she dreamed (foreseen) Solo's death?

At this line of thought, she remembered that Devnos was now aware of Jaina's continued existence. Suddenly, and quite without her consent, Sanar found herself in a moral dilemma: should she warn Solo, or let the girl's hero-lover fend for her safety?

Of course, the woman allowed, she was hardly in an ideal position to warn people. Devnos' comm machine was out of the question as it was in the middle of the ship. Sanar could hardly call Solo, even if she knew where the girl had landed herself. Sanar's only way of contact was through the Force, and even that was not possible. Her access to the Force had been sporadic of late, interfering even with Durron's ability to give himself visual form.

As if she had been summoned, Jaina was abruptly in Sanar's head. /Stars, Sanar; are you alright? You keep…fading, and…/

Even more surprisingly, Sanar felt herself instinctively latch onto Jaina, drawing strength and reassurance from the girl. When, she wondered, had she become so…so needy/I…don't really know what's wrong./

/You feel green and…flaky./ Jaina's concern rang even louder than her words. /Do I need to come over and kill Devnos? Just say the word./

Sanar spoke before she could dismiss her new, noble intentions. /Devnos knows you're alive./

Nonchalance, with just a sprinkling of confusion, ran around Jaina's presence. /So?/ she replied flippantly. /Look, I tried to reach you before, but…have you been blocking me? You keep moving. It's kind of disconcerting./

Impatient with Jaina's worrying, Sanar interrupted the younger woman. /He wants to use you to get to Zekk./

Reluctantly, Jaina accepted the change of subject. /Is he the one who sent the assassin? She's already dead./ Embarrassment definitely coloured her voice.

/Maybe. He's coming after you himself, now./

Jaina scoffed. /I can take care of that puzilts any day. Uh, by the way, what does "puzilts" mean? I didn't quite catch the definition, other than it being an insult…/

/Worthless, inept person,/ Sanar translated rapidly with a roll of her eyes.

/Oh, good. 'Cause then I used it on the right – /

/Solo! Haven't you heard anything I said? Devnos thinks he can get Zekk through you – and he can. Don't underestimate him./

/I'll fight./

/You could die./

Jaina's amusement lightened Sanar's pain, just a little. /Already did, Sanar. What's wrong? Old age getting to your memory?/ Then, a little more seriously, Jaina continued. /I'm a Jedi. My job is to look death in the eye…and remind it that there is only the Force./

/I'm not going to save you again. Any more bonding and I'll have more than just me in my head. One person and a too-strong bond are quite enough for me, thank you very much./

Jaina laughed. /Sanar – /

But the Force disappeared again, and Sanar would never know what Jaina meant to say. It felt strangely normal, to her. Everyone always vanished before Sanar could fully accept their gift – whether it be love, understanding, or the ever-missing comradeship.

So why did she expect more?

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Any comments would be appreciated :)

.Tjz