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V. Isolation

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Allana stayed far away from the detention level as planned, and though she tried to set her mind to other things, she spent most of her time in an anxious fog, moving from one task to the next without motivation or interest, just waiting for each day to end. The first passed slowly and uneventfully; she went for a run outside and spent a few hours reading, and she let Davin and Dolan tell her all about their training trip while Roan quietly applied himself to his coursework. In between her other obligations, she made time for meditation, but rather than easing her spirit or giving her greater clarity or peace, she found that each attempt left her painfully aware of the tangled knot of resentment and frustration and—

(yearning, loneliness, need, come back, come back)

—bitter anger buried several levels below. She pulled away quickly every time, lest he recognize her presence and glean the truth of her deception. Afraid that she might give away the plan without meaning to, she avoided her friends in the enclave's common spaces and spent most of her time alone.

The second day was much the same as the first, until Roan managed to convince her to go with him to the Cains'.

He said he wanted to go over his history notes with Jespin and Theora – Allana suspected he was more interested in seeing Theora than he was in studying, which was actually saying a lot – and so she humored him. If nothing else, she supposed she could ask for the flatcake recipe Arden had used the other night.

Roan disappeared into the back room with his friends, and Allana looked around for the two younger children.

"Elias took them down to the stream to swim," Arden explained, pouring herself a cup of caf. "Want some?"

Allana accepted a cup and sat down at the table with Arden, where they chatted aimlessly for a while, covering a number of safe and well-worn topics ranging from Roan's classes to her own Jedi training, with a few amusing tangents on the adventures of childrearing. Allana eventually asked for the flatcake recipe, and Arden offered her a whole container of berries to go with it. The conversation was winding down toward what she thought was its natural ending point when Arden decided to ask another question.

"So," the older woman said nonchalantly, "how are things going with the Sith Lord in the basement?"

Allana nearly choked on her caf in response, and she looked over to see Arden calmly sipping from her own mug. "What?"

Arden raised one eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

Allana looked around the room to assure herself that Roan and his friends hadn't somehow heard. "How long have you known?"

Arden gave a casual shrug, but Allana could sense the concern she was trying to conceal. "Pretty much since he arrived."

She couldn't quite meet the other woman's gaze. "What did Ben tell you about him?"

Arden set her drink down and crossed her arms loosely in front of her. "That he's dangerous and he's done a lot of bad things, and that he seems to have focused all his hatred of the Jedi on you."

Laughter echoed from the back room. Allana stared down at the dark liquid in her cup, desperately hoping her face wasn't as flushed as it felt. "Did he say anything else?"

"Just that he was on Vjun when we rescued the kids, and that he tried to kill you there. And that he's run into you too many times over the last ten years for it to be a coincidence." Arden sighed and leaned forward in her chair. "I can't pretend to know how hard this is for you, but I can see how it's affecting the rest of them, especially Ben. And I won't lie and say that it's been easy for me either, knowing there's a Sith Lord caged up beneath us. Having Elias home helps, but still, it's a lot."

Allana grappled uselessly for something to say. Her first instinct was to apologize, but that felt like a hollow gesture when it wouldn't change anything. Arden continued without seeming to notice the lack.

"I know you already know this, but Ben's on your side. Everything he does, he does to keep you and everyone here safe. I know he'll listen, if there's anything you need to say."

Allana adjusted her grip on the mug. "Did he put you up to this?" she tried to say lightly, and failed.

Arden's expression softened. "No, but I wouldn't have blamed him if he did. He just wants to help you."

"I don't—" She fought back a sudden swell of emotion as she stumbled over her words. "I don't know how to talk about this… with him." She took a deep breath and pressed her lips in a tight line to stop them trembling. "I don't know what to say."

Arden looked over at the cup she'd placed on the table. "Could you talk to Tahiri?"

Allana tried to imagine how that conversation would go. "I don't know. Maybe. But she and Ulin aren't due back for months."

"Could you talk to me? You know… woman to woman?"

Her stomach twisted at the unspoken implication. "It's not like that," she insisted. "I don't… I'm not…"

"It's okay, Allana, I'm not asking you to explain. I'm sure it's… complicated."

Allana swallowed and glanced toward the hallway Roan and his friends had disappeared down. She didn't sense anything unusual from them; just a content, happy hum in the Force as they worked together.

"He wasn't always like this," she murmured. The mug in her hands had cooled, and she clasped her fingers tightly around it. "He was… different. I think… I think we might have become friends, if he hadn't been taken."

Arden tilted her head sympathetically. "Maybe more than friends?"

Allana didn't answer; she couldn't find the words. She didn't want to find the words.

"It isn't wrong to feel conflicted, or to imagine how things might have been. Those kinds of thoughts are completely normal and understandable. I think it speaks to how kind you are, that you could even… especially after everything that's happened…"

She sensed Arden's hesitance to continue; it was like watching rain clouds crowd out the sun, and Allana braced herself.

"But you have to be careful, Allana. Whatever he was before, he hasn't been that person for a long time." Arden sighed and her eyes darted toward the back room, and when she spoke again, her words were soft and deliberate. "You know that Jespin and Theora were on Vjun?"

Even after ten years, the memory of that day was a lingering shadow that refused to fade. Tears pricked at Allana's eyes, and she inhaled deep and nodded. "Yes."

Arden's gaze grew distant. "Theora was so young," she explained. "I don't think she remembers most of the details anymore, or maybe she's blocked them out… but Jespin was older, he was there longer. He could sense what they were doing to the others… he still has nightmares sometimes."

Allana lowered her chin, eyes fixed on her lap. "So does Roan," she said softly.

Arden nodded solemnly. "You try to help them understand that it wasn't their fault, that they didn't deserve what happened to them. But that's a hard thing for anyone to accept, let alone a child." Her gaze refocused on Allana, and there was a beseeching look in her eyes. "I just want to protect them. They've been through so much already, and when Ben told me one of the people responsible for it was here… "

Allana's fingers tightened reflexively around her drink. I only ever watched.

The look in Festus's eyes when he'd said those words… she'd never seen him look like that before, not ever. It was the first time he hadn't taken full advantage of an opportunity to flaunt his monstrosity in her face. Almost as if… but no, what did it matter whether he was ashamed of what he'd done? It wouldn't change what happened back then, and it certainly wouldn't make up for everything those children had endured.

"I'm sorry," Arden said, exhaling loudly. She picked up her caf and took a distracted sip. "I didn't mean to blindside you with that; I know you didn't choose any of this."

"It's fine," Allana said quickly, feeling her cheeks flush again, and nearly tipping her cup over as she placed it on the table. "Really, it's fine— it's—"

Her breath caught as her brother's presence suddenly intruded upon her awareness; she whipped her head around to find him standing at the edge of the dining room, staring at her with awkward concern.

"Hey." Roan glanced hesitantly between her and Arden. "We're done studying."

Before either of them could respond, Jespin and Theora joined Roan, laughing over some joke no one else had heard. Arden's solemn demeanor shifted instantly to that of the long-suffering but loving parent.

"You finished everything you needed to?" she asked as she rose from the table and swept away both cups of caf.

"Yep!" Jespin stretched his arms behind his back. "We thought we'd go down to the stream with Dad."

Arden waved happily. "Sounds good to me. Just be back before dark."

The Cain siblings exchanged a mischievous grin, and Theora tugged lightly on Roan's arm. "Come on!"

Roan shouldered his bag and shrugged sheepishly at Allana as he hurried out the door after his friends. An awkward silence followed before Arden finally cleared her throat. Allana turned to see her pulling a container out of the conservator.

"Here are those bilaberries," she said gently. "Let me know how your flatcakes turn out."

Allana accepted the berries and attempted a smile, though her throat was still tight. "I will."

"And if you need to talk again, I'm here."

Allana acknowledged the offer with a nod and left the apartment without another word.

.

.

She went for another run, one that took her away from the enclave to a stretch of coastline along Meraine's nearby Beryl Sea. There was a grass-lined cliff there that overlooked a secluded, sandy cove; it was one of the only places on this planet where she felt like… herself, in a way she still didn't fully understand. It was also one of the few places she could rely on to be devoid of people. The Jedi spent far more time outside the enclaves than they had during the war, but even with the old restrictions lifted, she had yet to come across anyone else when she visited this spot.

The breeze today was strong, and while the sky overhead was azure blue and bright with sunlight, a veil of gray clouds was beginning to amass on the horizon, heralding an approaching rainstorm. Allana followed a lightly-worn path through the beachgrass, down the side of the cliff to the cove, where the tide had rolled in as far as it could and was lapping insistently at a few bleached-white rocks that stood watch along the shore. She climbed atop one of those rocks and pulled off her boots to let her toes dangle in the warm, frothy water.

As she listened to the waves break against the cliff wall, she closed her eyes and pictured the scene from her holocube: her mother's friends playing in the water, and her mother standing off to the side with whoever was taking the holo. Allana had never known a life like that. She'd made friends over the years, but they'd never given themselves over to the sort of unrestrained silliness and carefree fun that she saw when she looked at that old holo. Or maybe it was just her who had never done so. Unlike her friends, who had spent their early years at the Jedi Academy on Ossus before being hidden away in the enclaves, Allana was raised in the shadow of the Hapan elite – isolated from the worst aspects of the court, yes, but still lonely despite her mother's best efforts.

Was that why she still remembered the boy who'd stood up for her so many years ago? Not because he'd rescued her precious toy, but because when she spied on him in the days after, she saw that he was just as lonely as she was?

That boy you knew is gone, and he's never coming back.

She stared down at the water, at the ripples swirling out around her feet, and the tears that had threatened her earlier gathered in her eyes once more. Every voice around her was telling her to let go, to move on, to be careful and be rational and do the right thing, even though she wasn't sure anymore what the right thing was, or whether she could trust the voice inside her own heart when it whispered in conflict with all the others, reminding her of what might have been.

I'm a monster.

That's all I am.

She touched her throat where his hand had wrapped around it – twice now, and that should have been enough reason to stay as far away from him as possible. It was enough reason. It was more than enough.

She closed her eyes again and wiped away the tears that slipped past her lashes, and she reached out into the current of the Force, following eddies of energy here and there until one brought her back to the enclave and to all the life within. She was too far away to discern between most of its residents, although she recognized the unique patterns of sun-bright warmth that were her brother and her cousins. They existed within a mostly tranquil river of light, but there was something else, something dark and still beneath that river, a stone that didn't belong.

His presence was unobtrusive enough that anyone who didn't realize he was there likely wouldn't pay the feeling any mind, assuming that it was caused by some distant disturbance. And yet the flowing waters of her perception rippled as they passed over him, subtly altered by even that fleeting contact. It had always been like that with him, ever since that day on the beach of Kordros. Subtly and irrevocably altered.

Could you have ever loved me?

She withdrew from the current and looked up at the horizon, at the gray clouds gathering there, casting a pall over the shimmering green sea. The rain would be here soon; she should return to the enclave now if she wanted to avoid it. She picked up her boots and slid off the rock, making a small splash in the shallow tide, and she followed the same path through the beachgrass, listening all the while to the steadily increasing turbulence of the waves as they hurled themselves against the cliff.

.

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She dreamed that night. She didn't know what she dreamed of, only that it had been quiet and sad and seemed to last a lifetime, the way some dreams do. And even though she couldn't remember the dream beyond the hazy, ephemeral whisperings of sorrow and longing, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that next morning, she felt strangely and profoundly bereft, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to that place, wherever it was she'd been.

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Allana was eating lunch alone on the third day when her brother and her twin cousins entered the dining hall, their hair and clothes damp with sweat and eyes bright with fatigue. It was clear they'd just finished sparring practice; even from this distance, she could hear their good-natured ribbing. They spotted her and waved, and as they came over and crowded around her table, she wrinkled her nose. "Guys, come on, I'm trying to eat here!"

Davin looked down at his sweat-soaked shirt. "What?"

Allana leaned away from him. "You should really consider showering before coming in here."

"But we're hungry," Roan said with an uncharacteristic whine.

Allana stifled a laugh and smiled up at them. "How was practice?"

Davin turned his gaze on Dolan. "Oh, it was great. Beautiful."

Dolan glared at his brother. "Not like you did any better."

Allana looked back and forth between them. "What happened?"

Davin's face broke into the widest grin. "Ben ran our practice today."

"Ouch." She scrunched up her face in mock pain. "How long did you last?"

Dolan mumbled something indecipherable; Allana turned to Davin for clarification.

"Less than a minute." Davin's brown eyes gleamed in triumph. "Ben didn't even break a sweat."

"I still beat the pants off of you." Dolan crossed his arms over his chest, looking positively sullen.

"And I'm still a better pilot!"

Roan stood abruptly. "And I'm still hungry!" He started toward the lunch line, and Davin and Dolan followed after him, their rivalry renewed as they jostled for a place in line.

Allana watched with a smile as they left. It still amazed her how her cousins could instantly elevate the mood of an entire room just by walking into it. They sailed along through life buoyed by their confidence and their unwavering loyalty to each other and to their friends, and Roan was frequently swept up in their wake, pulled to greater heights and pushed into the spotlight with them. Davin and Dolan were fiercely protective of her little brother, and they never let anyone treat him differently for who his parents had been. She was grateful for that.

"Mind if I sit?"

She looked up from her musings to see Kohr standing across from her, looking unusually drawn. He didn't have his lunch yet, so she assumed this wasn't a social visit. Her stomach churned as she motioned for him to join her.

"Where's Dira?" She'd only seen her friend a few times in passing since she'd been back, and they hadn't had much time to talk.

Kohr smiled a little. "She's meeting me down here. She's finally getting her appetite back."

"I hear morning sickness is no joke."

"She hasn't really gotten sick, thankfully. She just hasn't felt like eating much."

"Didn't Karanya say that's normal at this stage?"

"Yeah." Kohr folded his arms on the table, and his presence grew more hesitant. "I just got off my shift downstairs."

"Oh." She still hadn't told Kohr about the plan – Ben said it was best to keep Festus's guards in the dark, lest they inadvertently tip him off to what was going on – but something must be up if he was seeking her out here. "Is he— did something happen?"

Kohr shrugged one shoulder. "He didn't try to escape or kill himself or anything, if that's what you're asking. He's been pretty calm, mostly."

"He has?" Why didn't she find that comforting?

"Yeah. Yesterday and the day before he sat in complete silence and barely even moved except to eat his meals."

Allana twisted her hands together under the table. "What about today?"

Kohr leaned back a little and frowned. "Today he was… agitated. Spent most of my shift scowling at the door. He seemed like he was testing the restraints a few times. Nothing violent, though. Ames said he was like that during his shift, too."

She kept her gaze fixed on her meal tray, on the kibla greens and violet rice she'd left mostly untouched. "Did he eat today?"

"Allana." She looked up to find Kohr watching her with concern. "You shouldn't give him so much space in your head. I figured that's why you— I mean, I know you were upset after the other day, and now with Ben not allowing anyone down there… I just didn't want you to keep worrying."

She was tempted to tell him everything, but she bit her tongue. "I appreciate it," she said softly.

"I know. And yes, he did eat today." Kohr stood up and sighed. "I'd better go. Knowing my luck, there won't be anything left once the Solo boys finish plowing through the line."

Allana offered a half-hearted wave. "Thanks, Kohr. See you."

She watched him go, trying to remember the last time she'd seen a genuine smile on his face. Kohr had always been the carefree jokester among their group of friends, so it was jarring to see him so serious and restrained, even if she understood the reasons for it. Between the long hours he'd already logged standing guard outside Festus's cell and his concern for Dira and the baby, he was under more than his share of stress.

She hadn't considered any of that when she'd asked Ben to bring Festus here. She hadn't considered Kohr's family, or Elias and Arden's, or any of the others. She hadn't even considered her own. She'd been so stupidly and selfishly shortsighted.

Across the room, Roan and the twins exited the lunch line and started to make their way over to her, but she stood and waved them off, nodding toward the door to indicate she was on her way out. Roan's smile faltered for an instant, but then Davin looped an arm around his shoulders, chattering away loudly as he and Dolan led her brother to another table currently occupied by a few of their friends. She heaved a quiet sigh at the sight of them before slipping away.

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.

The door chime to her quarters sounded in the early evening, when most of the enclave's residents should have been at dinner, and Allana got up from the chair where she'd been reading and stretched out with her senses to see who was there. She didn't feel anything at all, and that sent a shard of panic stabbing through her. There was only one person she knew who could make himself so small in the Force as to be invisible.

She hurried to open the door and found Ben standing in the corridor, pale and silent. He held out a datachip, and she noticed the way his hand wavered as she reached out to take it from him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, the words thick in her throat.

He shook his head, refusing to meet her gaze. "Promise you won't hate me too much after." He turned to leave, and she took a step after him.

"Ben, wait."

He stopped but didn't face her. "Just watch it, Allana. I need to get out of here for a while."

She watched him go, then shut the door behind her, the datachip pressed tightly in her hand. Her heart raced as she crossed the room, picked up her vidscreen, and plugged the chip in.

An image of the detention cell filled the screen. Festus was sitting on the ledge, hands still bound behind him, slouched forward and staring at the floor. A shaft of light stretched out before him as the cell door slid open, and he bolted upright.

She heard the distinctive buzz of the energy shield lowering and rising again, and Ben stepped down into view, most of his face aimed away from the camera. Festus glared up at Ben, then shifted his gaze toward the steps, searching.

"She's not coming back," Ben said in a perfectly even tone, the picture of Jedi composure. "You get to deal with me now."

Festus bared his teeth at his captor. "I already told you I won't talk to anyone else. Especially not you."

"Please. You haven't said anything useful since you arrived here." Ben crossed his arms over his chest and nodded back toward the door. "What you have managed to do is scare away the one person who actually gave a damn about you."

Allana's stomach lurched a little as she watched Festus clench his jaw tight, a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Not that I'm complaining," Ben continued with a shrug. "If I have anything to say about it, you'll spend the rest of your miserable life in a cell just like this one, and you'll never see her again."

The vicious gleam in Festus's eyes turned murderous, and his breath shook as he exhaled.

"You might have had her fooled for a while, might have even convinced her that there was something in that twisted heart of yours worth saving – but that's over now. Whatever chance you thought you'd have to sink your sick, psychopathic claws into her, it's gone. She knows the truth."

Ben paused, and Festus dropped his gaze to the floor, a faint, mirthless smile creeping across his face. After a handful of silent seconds, Ben shook his head and let out a derisive snort, and said in a voice filled with cold disdain:

"I'm sure she's relieved that she doesn't have to spend any more time with a monster like you."

Festus surged forward without warning, jerking violently against his bonds, as if the carefully woven threads of his inner restraint had suddenly snapped. "And who made me that way, Master Skywalker?" he screamed, hurling the words with such ferocity and acidity that Allana clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

Ben didn't appear to react, but she still couldn't see his face. "I am not responsible for what you've become."

"You shut up!" Festus raged. "You abandoned us there! I waited for over a year, and I did everything he wanted, every disgusting thing, and I went crazy, and still when you showed up I thought it was finally over, and you just left us there! You abandoned us!" His chest heaved as he finished his tirade; the pure hatred in his eyes made Allana desperate to look away.

"You had a choice," Ben said, but his words sounded hollow and uncertain.

"Join or die," Festus spat out. "How many ten-year-olds do you know who would've chosen death?" He flexed his arms roughly against the binders. "Submit, or watch him slice up the only person you have left, because Force-sensitive twins are so fascinating. You're right, Skywalker, I did have a choice. I chose to survive."

The only thing filling the silence that followed was the sound of Festus's ragged breathing. The two men stared at each other, the Sith Lord refusing to yield, and Allana's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to process everything she was witnessing.

"You know what's really crazy?" A wild laugh ripped from Festus's throat. "I was so close to becoming a real monster. They were going to start implanting me with Vong tech, but your old master stopped it. Guess he took a liking to me even before he stole Krayt's identity. Hey, maybe that's why I got promoted so young! And if Allana's father approved of me, really, who are you to argue?"

Festus slammed back against the wall, his head hitting the metal with a sickening crack, his body held in place by the Force as Ben advanced on him. He smiled through the pain. "Does she know how spectacularly you failed on Yalena?"

Ben didn't lift a finger, but as he took another step toward his captive, Allana saw the muscles in Festus's throat contract.

"You don't talk about her." The tightly controlled fury in Ben's voice sent a shiver through her. "You don't even think about her."

Festus gasped, struggling for air. "You can't… stop me."

A whispered threat. "I can."

Festus glared up at him, daring him to continue. "You won't," he choked out. "Your precious Code… your precious rules…"

Allana saw the very edge of a smirk on Ben's face. "I've never really been one to follow the rules." He leaned in close to Festus. "I guess I get that from my grandfather."

Festus's eyes went wide, and he tried to say something but couldn't get the words out. Allana remembered the sight of him hanging in the air on Vjun, helpless in the face of Anakin's rage – that same Skywalker rage she was watching now as tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew these events had already played out, that she couldn't change what was happening this time. And she realized that it wasn't just Ben's soul she was afraid for – it was Festus's life as well.

The Sith captive sagged forward, head bent over his body, and for one terrible moment, Allana was sure he was dead. Then he started to breathe, and she breathed, too, and she didn't want to think about the relief that flooded her.

When Festus finally looked up at Ben, Allana thought he might mock her former master for being too weak to kill him. But he only studied him, his chest heaving with each breath, and when he did speak, it was a strangled whisper.

"She never would have forgiven you."

Ben's response was equally quiet. "I know. That's why you're still alive."

He turned to leave, and Allana finally got a glimpse of his entire face. There was just… nothing. She thought of how he'd been so quick to leave earlier, unable to even look at her.

Ben hesitated at the bottom step, then turned back just enough to meet Festus's angry stare, his voice still void of emotion. "You know she won't forgive you either."

The younger man looked away, and that bitter anger morphed into something she couldn't quite place. "Of course not," he said. "How can she?"

Ben left without another word. Festus stared after him, his expression nearly as empty as Ben's had been. His labored breathing was loud in the stillness that followed, and then he closed his eyes and bowed his head, and the recording came to an end.

.