Paneau: capital city of Dalon
Dalon Spaceport Control Center

Koril blinked. "This is the criminal mastermind who broke into our apartment?"

Elena didn't think it was so hard to believe. It wasn't the first time they had been targeted by young criminals, but there was definitely something different about the boy sitting inside the small room. Commander Zsasso became slightly defensive, as if offended by Koril's dismissive tone.

"He had the painting in his possession, Sir! And his ship's nav computer placed him on Coruscant, even in the same sector as your residence, the night of the burglary!"

The look on Koril's face was difficult to decipher. Wariness was quickly changing into intense curiosity and contemplation, but Elena wasn't entirely sure why.

"I'm going to talk to him," Koril asserted again, seeming to dismiss Zsasso's concern again. He glanced at Elena only briefly before stepping into the room, and unsure if he was in the right frame of mind to conduct a proper interrogation, she followed him in, as did Commander Zsasso.

The boy shrank in his seat as the three entered, looking between them all with patent fear. He remained silent, though, watching Koril carefully as he sat in the chair facing him. Both Elena and Zsasso stayed to the periphery of the room, allowing Koril to do the talking.

"Do you know why you're here?" he began fairly blandly, but Elena maintained her gaze on the boy; he could hardly find his voice to answer, glancing nervously at Commander Zsasso. He looked terrified, as though he had never been in trouble with the law in his life.

"...they said I stole that painting...Sir."

"Did you?"

The boy shook his head cautiously. "...no, Sir, it was...it was given to me."

Though he had his back to her, Elena was sure Koril's expression reflected the same skepticism. "By whom?"

His anxiety intensified, delaying his response again as he shifted his wrists in the binders. "...I don't want to get her in trouble." He looked down and away from them all, seeming to recall a memory. "She was so nice to me..."

The tone of Koril's voice was almost...desperate? "Who gave you the painting?"

Again, the boy hesitated as his hands shook in his lap, his eyes sincerely remorseful for his forced betrayal. "Her name is...Dee. She's a friend..."

Seemingly stunned, Koril couldn't continue with another question, leaving the boy to add to his defense. "Look, she gave it to me, Sir... Did she steal it?"

Elena didn't make the connection until Koril glanced back at her with a bright, hopeful look in his eyes, and the realization made her gasp slightly.

"Not...exactly," Koril answered, his tone light as he returned to the boy. "Dee, what does she look like?"

Confused by his answer and subsequent question, he stammered briefly. "Uh - blond hair, brown eyes...about your age, Sir."

"My age," Koril repeated with a faint air of amusement in his voice. "And what about you? How old are you?"

Still perplexed by Koril's change in mood, the boy shrank even further in his seat. "Seventeen, Sir."

A brief silence was broken only by a soft breath from Koril that Elena suspected was a stifled laugh. She wasn't sure what was funny, but she listened intently to the boy's next answer.

"Why did Dee give you that painting?"

The question seemed painful for the teen to answer, but he did so obediently anyway. "My name is Garran Bolc, Sir, and my mother was Solienne Bolc. She was the artist who painted it. She painted a lot...but she died a few months ago. All her paintings that I had left burned in a fire that destroyed my home on Bakura. Dee was with me then, and she told me she would get another of my mom's paintings for me to keep so I could remember her. We went to Coruscant, and she came back with it late one night. Then...she sent me away. She programmed the ship's nav computer to get me here, and I was supposed to find Koril Rys'tihn when I landed."

"Well," Koril answered lightly, "you found him. I'm Koril Rys'tihn."

Garran's eyes lit up slightly, seemingly pleased to have achieved at least one small success, but he could only manage a weak smile as Zsasso cleared her throat disapprovingly.

"Commander Zsasso," Koril addressed her curtly as he turned to look back at her. "Please remove the binders from his wrists."

Zsasso stared incredulously. "But - High Commander! -"

"He has committed no crime," Koril interrupted her hastily. "His binders, please, Commander."

Though thoroughly embarrassed, Zsasso complied. "Yes, Sir..."

Garran carefully held his hands out to Zsasso as she approached him, still intimidated by the Commander though she made no further protests as she released the locks. With the binders loosened and removed, Garran rubbed the irritated skin over his wrists, watching Zsasso leave defeated. He still seemed so lost and scared, though, casting doubt in Elena's mind that he was as old as he said he was.

"I'm...I'm not in trouble anymore?"

"No, you're not," Koril returned kindly, settling Garran's anxiety somewhat. "Did Dee tell you why she sent you to me?"

Garran shook his head. "No. After the fire, she promised me that she would take care of me, at least until I didn't need her anymore. She did, for a while, anyway, but I don't know why I'm here now." He paused a moment, considering their earlier conversation. "You asked me what she looks like. Do you know her?"

Elena could hear the grin in Koril's voice. "I suppose you could say that." He straightened his posture, preparing to continue with a more focused tone. "I think Dee sent you here, Garran, because she wanted you to learn more about who you are, and where your mother came from. That painting Dee gave you? There are dozens more just like it here; Solienne created masterpieces for many of the Paneau Royal Families. In my own home, there are at least ten of them hanging on the walls."

Garran hardly withheld his surprise. "My mother's from here?"

"Yes, and she was quite famous some years ago."

"She loved painting so much," Garran continued fondly, though still trying to make sense of it all. "Such detailed, mountainous landscapes, and it looked like it could have been Bakuran terrain...except for one building or one ship I could tell didn't belong. She never explained it to me, just like she never told me about her past, where she was from. She refused to, kept it all secret..." Taking in a lengthy breath, he let it out just as slowly. "Wow."

Allowing Garran to settle into his new knowledge, Koril stood after a moment, motioning to one of the guards stationed beside the door. "Have one of the cooks bring him a hot meal from the tapcaf downstairs."

"Yes, High Commander," the guard acknowledged with a salute, leaving briskly to relay the order. Garran watched the guard go, returning to Koril with a curious expression; Elena's was just as inquisitive.

"You look a little hungry, so you'll have a nice meal soon. I'm going to step outside for just a moment, but I'll be right back, okay?"

Getting a bewildered nod from the teen, Koril turned to leave, placing a hand at the small of Elena's back to lead her outside with him. Once the door sealed behind them in the hallway, Elena had a hard time accepting the rapid turnaround.

"You're absolutely certain of that boy's innocence?"

Koril nodded, his expression becoming more serious as he spoke quietly. "A few months ago, after my...break, Cade told me he had sent Deilia with a mission when she was forced to leave. She was supposed to find a cousin of ours: seventeen, without any idea that he's related to us."

Elena blinked, arching her eyebrows. "He's a Rys'tihn?"

He suddenly couldn't restrain a smile. "Can't you see it?"

She looked back into the room at Garran and studied his face; though he had remained in his seat, he looked markedly happier with the promise of food. Perhaps that was why he seemed so young to her: she saw brief glimpses of her son Derek in him...

"Solienne?"

Koril shook his head. "No, she's not. I didn't piece it together until just now."

He remained silent to allow her to figure it out herself, watching her as she thought through it. If Solienne wasn't the Rys'tihn, then Garran's father was, and Koril's only male relative other than his late father was...

She only had to mouth his name, and Koril nodded, looking a bit surprised himself as he glanced in at Garran once more. "He has a lot to learn...and he needs a safe place to do it." Returning to Elena, he searched her eyes pleadingly, softening his voice. "We have more than enough room at the Manor..."

"No, Koril," she answered immediately to his disappointment. She tried to sound as sympathetic as possible, though, while still maintaining her position. "I understand that he's a Rys'tihn, that he's your cousin, but beyond that, we don't know anything about him. We don't know what kind of a person he really is. I don't want to take that risk with our children. And what about Rech and Mand? They don't need a stranger wandering about the Manor while they're facing such private difficulties... No, not right now."

Though he nodded in comprehension, she could still see the saddened look in his eyes, and it wearied her. She sighed quietly, knowing she needed to compromise somehow to keep his spirits up... "The Retreat, then. No one's staying there right now, and he could be well...monitored while he's there."

Returning a smile to his face, he nodded, leaning into her to give her a quick but earnest kiss to express his appreciation. "Thank you," he whispered, turning back to the room. "I'll go now, make the preparations there and make sure that Cade is...aware." He paused a moment, looking to her once more. "I know it's late, but would you stay with him and bring him to the Retreat once he's finished eating?"

Just glad to see him in better form and more like his old self, she nodded, earning another, yet more muted smile from him. With his hand on her back again, he led her back inside the room with him, stepping up to the teen who was still sitting in his seat.

"Garran," Koril addressed him kindly, "I'd like for you to meet my wife, Jedi Knight Elena Rys'tihn."

Garran's eyes widened in amazement, studying her up and down with fascination. "A Jedi? I've always heard stories, but I've never met one... It's an honor, ma'am!"

Though a bit surprised by his reaction, she nodded with a small, reserved smile. "It's nice to meet you, too, Garran."

Koril continued. "We have a place for you to stay, if you'd like."

Instead of expressing appreciation, Garran's eyes became fearful once more. "...here?"

"Well, not here in Spaceport Control," Koril answered with a grin, "but here on Paneau, yes. It's a quiet, secluded home where you can research your mother's background all you want without anyone to bother you."

Again, Garran looked pleased, allowing a small, hesitant smile. "...I'd like that."

Koril continued. "Elena will take you there when you're finished eating. I'm headed there now to prepare a room for you, but I'll meet you there, okay?"

Garran nodded again excitedly, his expression brightening once more. With a long glance at Elena and a discreet squeeze of her hand, Koril left, only allowing his apprehension to become visible on his face once he was sure neither of them could see it.

Paneau: capital city of Dalon
Dalon Medical Center

Though Rech hadn't even opened his eyes to look at a chrono since taking up vigil at Mand's side in the hospital room, he was very aware of how many hours had passed, judging by the increasing daylight he felt warming his back from the window behind him. He had kept Mand sleeping, allowing him to heal her frail system without interruption or protest from her, but he was rapidly approaching exhaustion. He hadn't slept, nor had he even taken a break since beginning his work on her, but he was beginning to feel his own body giving up before he was prepared to.

The doctors remained baffled by Mand's condition, unsure how to even begin treatment. They had done enough to keep her stabilized, and to keep the twins healthy, but they were still trying to determine what could be done to keep her system from fluctuating so wildly. He had helped her as much as he could for the time being, though, and as he released his hold over her, he could sense her consciousness returning. Positioning himself in her line of sight as she woke up, he watched her closely, waiting until she seemed more alert before speaking softly.

"Mand? Can you hear me?"

Her eyes were only slightly open, but she focused on him after a moment, nodding weakly. Her breathing was slow and shallow, even with the aid of a breath mask still over her face, but as he took up her hand at her side, he felt her fingers tighten around his. Though it made him smile with relief briefly, the longer he held her gaze, the heavier his heart felt under his grief and worry. His falling expression didn't appear to register with her, though, concerning him even more. She seemed so weak, and maybe she wasn't as lucid as he thought...

"What...happened..."

Surprised that she was able to enunciate well enough, he struggled to give her an answer. "You've...become very ill...just like before." His voice threatened to break or stop working entirely as he tried to continue. "Mand...why didn't you tell me?"

It was a question he had posed to her once before under entirely different circumstances, but the pain of her withheld secret cut him deeply just the same. They had confided so much in each other over their ten year relationship that hiding anything from her had never crossed his mind, but she had again chosen to suffer alone and in silence. Finally registering the meaning behind his question, her eyes saddened with remorse as she took in a sharp, albeit muted breath in realization.

"I was going to..."

His emotions battled fiercely within him, and he couldn't thwart it in time; anger was beginning to gain the upper hand. "When? Before or after you fell into a coma again?"

She seemed to expect his frustrated reaction, though, calmly shaking her head as she closed her eyes for a moment. "I had to be sure," she whispered lightly, all her remaining energy dissolving with her confession. "I couldn't bear...to see that...that devastated look on your face...in your eyes...a fourth time..."

So she had intentionally hidden her pregnancy from him, but only to spare him another painful loss? If she had miscarried again, she would have shouldered the sorrow and misery entirely on her own, denying him the chance to comfort her as he had each time previously. Though alleviating her grief had been incredibly taxing on him, he willingly gave everything he could, sharing himself within their deep connection without a second thought. He didn't know whether to be insulted...or thankful. Feeling his anger subsiding, though, he released a long, shaky breath, bringing her hand up to his lips as he held it with both of his.

"We're supposed to do this together," he somehow found the strength to say. "That's what Master Noor told you. How can we if you won't even..."

Again, it seemed like she wasn't entirely comprehending his words. "This one felt different, Rech...even from very early on..."

"Yeah, I'm sure twin girls would feel different."

Though it was difficult to tell through the breath mask, he thought he saw one corner of her mouth curl with the makings of a small smile. He didn't have time to reciprocate it, though, as a monitor behind her began sounding an alert warning of her falling ox-sats. Her stamina was deteriorating in earnest, but he shared what energy he could to keep her talking just a bit longer before the nurses arrived...

"Mand, you can't go on like this... We can't supply you with nutrients fast enough to replace what the twins are taking from you. It's unsustainable, and your health is so severely compromised right now...I don't even know where to begin or how to do the most good."

Her eyes closed as he spoke, and he wasn't sure she had heard him until she squeezed his hand. Her fingers were ice cold in his grip, a side effect of her rapidly worsening state, and though she made a concentrated effort to open her eyes back up, she could only speak through her thoughts.

I can put myself in a trance, then. Suspend all of my systems except what the twins need from me. That way, whatever you give me will go straight to them, without my needs interfering.

The look on his face had to be one of pure shock...maybe even horror. "Mand..."

Please, she continued to plead. They've come this far. We have to at least give them a chance to grow, and if this is what it takes...then I'll do it.

Did she even know what she was asking, what she was planning to do to herself? To even survive life outside of the womb, the twins would need at minimum another three to four months of healthy development, but how could that be achievable if Mand was already so deathly ill? How could she even ask him to consider endangering her life further than she already had? He shook his head strongly, running a dozen different scenarios through his head, all of them ending with tragedy...

Please, she begged again with faint determination. I can do this...with your help.

His help? The best he had been able to do over the past few hours was keep her systems from crashing completely, a far cry from keeping her stable for a lengthy four months. He had no idea how to even go about maintaining her trance for that long, much less maintaining her health. He saw nothing but disaster in store, but...the desperate, pleading look in her eyes...

What an unbelievable test of his skills it would be, and of his patience, his endurance... She was willing to sacrifice herself, her time and her health, to nurture the tiny girls to viability, but could he stay at her side and watch her increasing frailty day after day? Could he help her support the twins that were going to slowly kill her? He wanted to harden his heart so he could tell her no and get his wife back, but something deep within him wouldn't allow it. Feeling the burning sting of reluctant tears forming, he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at her as hesitantly nodded.

Then promise me...that you will do everything in your power...to save them...no matter what it means for me.

Defiant, he looked up at her and shook his head, not caring that hot, bitter tears rolled down his face. "No, Mand..."

But she remained adamant. Promise me. They will be your priority, not me.

"Mand...don't."

More alarms beeped, indicating her intensifying decline, but she held out, managing to hold his gaze. Promise me.

How dare she demand such an agreement out of him! After what she had put him through in the past few hours, she had the audacity to force him to care for the two tiniest lives that may not even advance far enough to birth, while at the same time ignoring her dwindling survival chances? Another round of shrill, piercing alarms, adding to the cacophony and chaos in his own tormented mind...

"Okay!" he finally broke and gave in, his voice weak with grief. "Okay... I promise." Still in complete disbelief about it all, he could only watch in paralyzed fear as her eyes slowly closed once more. One by one, the alarms all silenced themselves, and within minutes, her heartbeat and her breathing, both at subdued rates, were the only remaining signs of life from her.