Hey, remember me? cringes I'm terribly sorry about all the stops and starts with the posting of this trilogy; if anyone is still reading this, I'll try to wrap it up by September at the latest. ItM is complete, so chapters may be sporadic, but more than occasionally with multiple chapters per day.

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Chapter Five: Sanar's Apparent Lobotomy

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When Sanar had brought Jaina back to life five years ago, the souls of the two women had been intricately and irrevocably entwined. Their abilities and memories had crossed over, merging, moulding them into new people. Sanar had beaten a difficult sim her first time in an X-wing; Jaina knew just about everything to do with midwifery. Jaina could whistle; Sanar understood every inside joke that Jaina's friends threw out.

The ability to spar, however, had not been passed on in any shape or form, as Kyp and Jaina both well knew. Sanar was a miserable fighter.

"If I get in a spot, I can take care of myself," the former slave grumbled. "I protected Clayra for years, didn't I? And when Horaire threatened her, I took care of it, didn't I? I don't see why I need to learn how to use a lightsaber."

Kyp groaned in irritation. Sanar had been arguing for the better part of an hour—and that was only counting today. She whined about it for some time, whenever Kyp or Jaina brought it up. "Sanar, it's the traditional Jedi weapon."

"So?" she retorted. "I'm not a Jedi."

Jaina covered her smirk. "Just humour him, Sanar. Kyp's too old to develop patience."

"I guess so," Sanar agreed, only too ready to insult the Jedi Master. Starting up her training 'saber, Sanar resignedly flicked it around a bit. "Let's get this over with."

Kyp's grin—which he now displayed at full strength—had been one of the biggest reasons the Galactic Woman named him the Number One Bachelor several years in a row before his death; it had no effect whatsoever on Sanar. He didn't let it fade, though. "First of all, correct your form."

"My form is fine," Sanar spat, standing with her feet together and her legs straight.

Even Jaina, who enjoyed Sanar's training pranks as much as the woman herself, rolled his eyes. "Suck it up, sis. Do it properly."

Sanar pouted petulantly, but at least separated her feet so that they were shoulder-width apart. "That better?"

Kyp stepped forward, hooking his lightsaber to his belt for the moment. "Only a little," he said dryly. "Put one foot a little back…right…and bend your knees. You need to keep your centre."

Scowling at him, Sanar nonetheless followed his instructions. If she went along with this, it was more likely that Jaina would talk about Kyp's weak spot—the one, Sanar noted with a sulk, that Jaina had exploited time and time again, but which she hadn't yet shared. Niftyax.

"Now, I'm going to lunge, and I want you to parry me, alright?"

She lunged before he could try it; he parried easily, then reposted to just a centimetre away from her right shoulder. "Sanar, this is you getting used to fighting, not you trying to kill me," Kyp informed her patiently. "You can exercise your demons later."

"Promise?" she asked cheekily. That she didn't just cut him down with a heavy cascade of insults and accusations showed how far she had come.

With Jaina on the sidelines, Kyp and Sanar circled each other. Kyp stayed mostly on defence, only occasionally striking out—little more than pokes, and generally to provoke her into action. For the most part, however, Sanar took the lead. Her moves were awkward and unnatural as she tried to get used to sparring.

"Firm your grip, Sanar," Jaina called. "You don't want to lose your 'saber."

Kyp had been refraining from the same thing, knowing that Jaina was the only person Sanar would even think to listen to. Seeing the woman's quick grin in Jaina's direction, and the adjustment of grip made so quickly, however, he let his mouth get away with him. "Use the Force, Sanar; you're fighting blind—it doesn't change anything, and you won't learn how to fight properly."

She stopped, eyes glittering, lightsaber all but forgotten in her loose grip. "I'm…" Apparently, advice from Kyp Durron was not what she wanted to hear, because Sanar's frustration bubbled over as she dropped her training 'saber and launched herself at Kyp, raining his face with her fists and knocking him right over. Stunned at first, Kyp recovered himself fairly quickly, but still couldn't stop Sanar's onslaught. What she lacked in strategy, she more than made up for with raw strength; she always held a little back for when she needed it.

"Sanar! Sanar, stop it." Jaina grabbed both of Sanar's wrists firmly and pushed her back, taking away Sanar's balance. "Sanar. Look at me."

Sanar's eyes skitted around before settling on Jaina. As suddenly as she had attacked, her temper vanished, and she clumsily got to her feet, staring at Kyp. "I—I'm sorry, I—"

"Horaire said that once," Jaina explained quietly, face pale. "In a different context, but…"

Jaina's pallor was nothing next to Kyp's absolutely pasty complexion and horrified expression. "Sanar, I swear, if I'd known…I never…"

Sanar visibly shook herself. "No," she said clearly. "I spazzed. It was completely…not your fault." In her self-disgust, she didn't even notice that she'd pardoned Kyp of any blame. "Completely. I don't even know what came over me."

"Sparring isn't your strong point," Jaina muttered, staring at her feet. "Neither is doing something you don't like, or aren't good at."

Sanar fidgeted, glancing at Jaina. "I guess it isn't." She paused before whispering, "I'm…Larifx…I'm so sorry."

Jaina gave her sister a sideways hug, creating an unsettling image of two nearly identical faces right next to each other. "It's the dreams, isn't it?" she asked, frowning.

Sanar looked down awkwardly. "'Dreams'?" she repeated uncomfortably, knowing as she did so that there was no point in denying it. She suspected that, even without the Freak Connection, Jaina would know about this.

Jaina straightened slowly, her attention focused solely on Sanar; her eyes reflected the strangeness that had crept into her during her period in the River of Death. "About Na'Lein'yhpaon. All the memories…they're flooding back, aren't they? Can't run forever."

There was nothing to say to that.

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To say Veras was surprised to see Sanar, her friend from nearly a decade ago, comfortably teasing a dark-haired man, was an understatement. Sanar did not tease men. She glared at, beat up, and protected her loved ones from men. That was it. True, Veras knew of times when Sanar had also seduced them, but other than Gantik, she had never seen Sanar (genuinely) smile at a man.

"From your description," Braun said at her side, "I was expecting someone very…different."

"That makes two of us," Veras muttered, dazed. She was close enough to see Sanar's features, and there was no mistaking her; still, she had to wonder if Sanar's brain and soul had been replaced with another person's.

Her long legs eating up the separating distance, Veras only stopped when Sanar stood on tip-toe to kiss her companion. Definitely a lobotomy, Veras decided. Sanar seduced, when she had to, with passion; this…new version of Sanar…had love bleeding from her eyes. "Sanar?" she squeaked.

Sanar and the dark-haired man (was that Onyx?!) startled apart. "Huh?" Sanar muttered, looking almost drugged, the way Veras always felt when she pulled away from Braun.

"This is just too weird, you know, Klis?" Veras said, shaking her head. "I mean, you don't look a day older, and you're kissing Onyx? I know you thought he was great and all but—"

"Um…Jaina?"

Sanar blinked up at Onyx, then squinted at Veras. "I know you," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm Veras," she snapped in a duh tone. "Look, I know it's been a decade, but really—"

"Veras!" Sanar exclaimed victoriously. "Sanar knew you…from Na'Lein'yhpaon." She frowned. "What are you doing on Ta'a Chume'Dan?"

The bounty hunter blinked. "Uh, Klis, when did you start referring to yourself in the third person?"

Sanar stared blankly, then smacked her forehead. "Oh. Right! You think I'm Sanar, don't you? Stars, I'm an idiot." She shook her head. "I'm Jaina," she introduced herself with a grin, holding out her hand to shake Veras'. "Jaina Solo."

Veras peered at her. "Okay, Sanar, when did you go insane?"

Onyx casually wrapped an arm around Sanar's shoulders. "Actually, Veras, she's telling the truth. Jaina and Sanar bear an uncanny resemblance. It's quite an interesting story, how they met…really." Here, surprisingly, his cheeks flushed.

Jaina-not-Sanar smirked at Onyx. "You're such a guy, Zekk. Honestly. 'Interesting'? That's one way to put it."

"Are we talking about the how-the-Freak-Connection-occurred part—" Zekk looked ill "—or, uh…how you two actually met?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Right. Uh." Embarrassed by something he saw in Jaina's look, Onyx turned back to Veras, Braun and Nichyn. "Why don't you follow me? Sanar's back at the apartment."

"Wait." Veras held up both hands. "Just wait a minute. Sanar? At 'the apartment'? What, you two are living together? Larifx, Sanar did have a lobotomy."

Zekk frowned before the identity of "you two" sank in. "Oh, no. Not—not me and—and—Sanar," he stuttered. "No. Definitely not. No. Way. I mean, Jaina and Sanar are living together, but…absolutely not me and Sanar."

"Five years ago, however…" Jaina chirped.

"I'm never going to hear the end of that," Zekk groaned. "Honestly, of all things I did as Onyx, you had to hold a grudge about that?"

Jaina stepped in front of him, so they were chest-to-stomach (Jaina being a great deal shorter than Zekk). "You slept with my sister."

"Riiiight." Zekk laughed nervously. "Jay, why don't we have this conversation…elsewhere…when Sanar's friends aren't around?"

"Sure," Jaina burbled, turning back around to face the trio of arrivals. "Follow us."

Veras had to consciously restrain herself from demanding just how Sanar Klis had befriended Jaina Solo, of all people—and had Jaina mentioned something about her sister? What? Veras had been certain that Jaina was the only Solo daughter—and the only living child old enough to have hormones, certainly.

Jaina, arm hooked with that of Onyx (or Zekk, or whatever the lafit he was going by now), led them through the city with ease, chatting on and off when she could think of something to say—she was very clearly holding back—but generally bantering with her…boyfriend. At least, Veras assumed Jaina was involved with Onyx/Zekk—she'd heard rumours.

"…So now Kyp lives practically right next to us," Jaina was saying. "And Sanar gets to see him every morning, and make fun of his morning hair, and he snipes back with morning breath, and they both completely enjoy annoying each other. But," she hurried to add, "you know, Kyp only does it because it's the only way to get Sanar to acknowledge his existence. I guess he never got past the second grade irritate-the-girl-you-like mind-set. I swear, they've got as many obstacles as me and Zekk, almost. Except," she considered, "that Zekk and me…fit…and who knows about Kyp and Sanar? She'll probably kill him."

"Wait," Braun interrupted, grabbing Jaina's arm to halt her, right in front of an apartment building. "We're talking about Kyp Durron?"

Jaina blinked owlishly. "Well, yeah."

Veras stifled a grin as her husband tried to accept that, firstly, he was going to have to pass the infamous Destroyer of Carida/rogue Jedi/resurrected person's apartment door, and secondly…that Sanar hadn't killed Kyp?

"Didn't he kill Mr. Klis?"

Jaina and Zekk exchanged a look. "Well," Jaina hedged, "very indirectly. He was kinda possessed. And, I mean, everyone but Jarran was Imperial…" She sighed and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "And just because she hasn't killed him yet doesn't mean she won't someday."

"But she didn't kill him in the first place!" Veras half-shrieked, disbelief cascading from her expression.

Nichyn watched with confusion.

"Well, he was already dead," Jaina said, her voice implying that this was a very boring concept—and one that a two-year-old could grasp. "She had a year to get used to him."

"Lobotomy. Most definitely. There's no other explanation."

Jaina smirked. "Well, technically…"

Zekk bumped her with his elbow.

"Never mind." She grinned, then gestured for them to follow her into the building. Leading them through the hallways, she stopped in front of a door. "Well, this is home." Keying in the access code, she strolled in when the door rose. "Sanar?" she called, tossing her messenger bag onto a couch. "Take a seat," she told the group over her shoulder. "She should be out in a second… Sanar? Come on out—I know you're here, so don't bother…"

She rounded a corner, and Veras, Braun, Zekk, and a silent Nichyn were left in the front room. Veras eyed Zekk warily; she had heard that he had turned on his Imperial ties, even that he had played a key role in the New Empire's defeat, but such rumours were still new. She didn't trust him any further than Nichyn could throw him.

"Do you want anything to eat?" the nervous, dark-haired man now asked, well-aware of Veras' hostile gaze. Spotting Nichyn (the kid had an annoying talent of remaining unnoticed until he wanted to be seen—survivor's instincts), who didn't appear to recognize Zekk at all, the former Darkest Knight tried his luck with the teen. "Jaina and Sanar have a well-stocked sugar cabinet."

"I am—I am quite alright," Nichyn murmured, casting his gaze around the room. The front room branched out, to left as a larger room with couches and some unrecognizable technology, to the right a kitchen, and straight ahead to a hallway. Understanding that they should wait in the living room, the group headed for the couches, and Nichyn looked around. The décor was warm, but followed no pattern, and Jaina's life seemed to peek through more than that of Sanar—holos of the Solo family, and of Jaina and friends, were activated on spare flat areas. Over a holo-net set (which Nichyn recognized from his studies) was a large, framed holo picture of Jaina and…Nichyn guessed…Sanar, sitting next to each other comfortably in pajamas, exchanging a look that "knowing" only began to explain.

"Larifx," Veras muttered, seeing the framed picture at the same time as Nichyn. "Now that is uncanny." Her hunter's eyes caught other pictures that had escaped Nichyn's attention—smaller ones, more of Jaina and Sanar, some of Jaina and Zekk, several posed, but just as many catching the people off-guard. "Sanar looks…"

"I look what?"

Veras turned around abruptly, her head snapping in its speed. Sanar stood, a little nervously, in the entrance to the living room. She wore lounge pants and a simple, modest red shirt. "Sanar. I…you…" Veras blinked rapidly, trying to recover her equilibrium. Never—not once, in the past nine years—had the bounty hunter pictured her former friend in a nice, moderately-priced apartment, with a female roommate. Sanar was too cranky to get along with roommates—especially if they were female.

And yet, here she was. Shooting Jaina a glance, who returned it with a reassuring smile; comfortable in her surprisingly…normal and adjusted…home. Bizarre. "You look great," Veras finally managed to push out. "Really. I mean…wow. I wasn't expecting…"

Sanar smirked (at least that hadn't changed), and shrugged. "Yeah, well, nine years is a long time." She looked at Jaina, then over to Zekk, before continuing. "So, uh, not that I'm not glad to see you, Veras, but… Wait." She stared at Braun. "Who are you? And why hasn't Veras beaten you up?"

"This is my husband, Braun," Veras introduced, blushing despite herself. Once, she and Sanar had shared their wariness (if not outright hatred) for men. What must Sanar think? Personally, she felt rather like a teenager caught ditching her diet by her best friend.

"And you think I had a lobotomy?" Sanar demanded, snorting and crossing her arms over her chest.

Jaina grinned at the room in general, as if she knew something that they all did not. "I'll be in the kitchen." Her eyes rested, briefly, on Nichyn, but she gestured for Zekk to follow her. "Call if you need anything."

"So, are you going to sit, or what?" Sanar asked her guests archly.

"'Call if you need anything'?" Veras retorted. "Since when do you have friends who say things like that?" She paused, reconsidering her past relationship with Sanar. "Since when do you have friends, period?"

Sanar's expression was stormy, defensive. "Just sit down already. It's been nine years. A lot's happened. And Jaina—Solo's…" She glanced down, mouth quirking. "That's too complicated. But we aren't friends."

"Sure you aren't," Veras said dryly, but she sat, and Braun and Nichyn copied her.

"Well?" Sanar demanded when neither Veras nor Braun spoke. "After nine years, and probably some tracking me down, I assume you weren't just 'in the neighbourhood'."

The Yd couple exchanged a look; Nichyn studied his aunt's features.

Sanar sighed loudly before giving in to the need to be perceptive, and scanned each person's features. "Who's the kid? Your hidden-from-society bastard son? Literally, and without offence, of course."

Veras chuckled despite herself. "Actually," she said pointedly, "he's Clayra's."

Tensing, Sanar stared at Nichyn, her eyes approaching wildness before they darkened with pain and memories. "Nichyn?"

For the first time since landing, the teenager spoke. "Hello, Aunt."

Sanar, who had been perched insolently on the arm of a hover-couch, stood nervously. "Nichyn. You're…here." She blinked, surprise stripping her of any sarcastic defences. "Uh, you're—you certainly aren't five years old anymore." She grinned weakly.

"Yes. Time will do that to you," Nichyn offered.

"Oh, I didn't mean—" Uncomfortable, Sanar fumbled for a moment before turning back to Veras. "What's going on? Is Clayra alright?"

"Clayra's fine," Braun was quick to reassure. "She's married, now, to—"

"—to someone who cares about her," Veras interrupted, shooting her husband a glare. Bringing Gantik up probably wasn't the best idea at the moment. Sanar's history with the man was more than a little turbulent.

"Then, uh, why…?" Sanar flicked her head in Nichyn's direction, completely awkward and hating the feeling more every second.

"Clayra's husband is rising in power—he isn't in league with the Jirs, at all, but people pay attention to him. They needed to get Nichyn out before he became embroiled by everything."

"They wanted to train me to be a priest," Nichyn said quietly, shoulders tensing. "The—the others, I mean. Before, we could reject the 'offer' without raising suspicion, but now…"

He didn't have to finish; Sanar remembered. When her mind moved to her next question, however, she trembled with growing rage. "Why didn't Clayra come with him? Did her loving husband make her stay in danger?"

"No, no, Clayra and…her husband…are part of the Resistance. They felt they couldn't leave yet, and certainly not without drawing the Order's attention to friends and colleagues. And, they knew you were out here to raise him."

Seeing Sanar's panic, Braun rushed to say, "We've contacted a family that is very much willing to take Nichyn in as their own, for as long as he needs a home. I don't know what kind of life you have going here…"

Sanar laughed a little, edging on hysteria at the thought of taking in a teenage boy. "Uh, well, it's slightly more domestic than my life five years ago—" She blushed to the roots of her hair; thinking about her very, very brief…sexualrelationshipwithOnyx…was beyond humiliating, "but I'm still… It's not that I don't want you around," she tried to assure her nephew, "but I'm not exactly, uh, mother material. I mean, I don't—I—I still get drunk sometimes, and…and, it's not like I'm married, or have any experience with kids—believe me, I've been careful, not that I don't maybe someday want to have a family, I just—"

Wincing, Veras slapped a hand over Sanar's mouth. "Nichyn gets the idea, Klis."

Sanar's cheeks were scarlet with mortification. "And, did I mention I have a huge problem with keeping my mouth shut when I feel awkward?" She swallowed convulsively. "You'd learn too much from me, really. I'd be the worst Mom-Aunt ever."

"I—It's okay," Nichyn muttered, studying his feet uncomfortably. "You have a life. I understand."

"That's not what I meant!" Sanar snapped, losing her patience to her irritation. "I'm no good with kids."

"Presumably, you would learn," Braun remarked.

"I guess, but—" Sanar broke off suddenly, her eyes becoming thoughtful. "I might not…be around here…much longer."

"What do you mean?" Veras demanded sharply, eyeing her friend. A long time ago, Sanar had mentioned visions, but Veras had always brushed the idea off as one of Sanar's comfort-stories.

Sanar blinked, then narrowed her eyes pensively. "I don't think I'll be in the Galactic Alliance much longer at all," she said.

Then she leaned back against the wall and refused to explain further.

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Please R&R!

.Tjz