Rha leant her head against the wall and stared at the blurry sky though the dirty window, green and blue. She couldn't hear anything. Maybe she had finally lost them in the forest. Maybe they just thought that she would die anyway. She wasn't quite sure herself. Beneath the bodysuit her skin was slick with blood. Too much blood.
One leg bracer and part of the chest plate was lost. Well, not quite lost. The armor shards had pierced her skin. Swathes of burned tissue, still hot, grew outwards from them like macabre blossoms. But she felt no pain from the worst of them, a sharp cut across her left side. That, she knew, was bad. The lightsaber must have burnt away the nerves.
If the blood loss did not kill her, the infection would.
After she hit the wall her helmet lost contact, hud fuzzing out as some important cable broke, but it did not matter. There was no one to call.
At least her belt stayed whole.
She had an tube of pain-relieving salve and another for her scars, an second voice modulator in case the implant broke and an medpack. It might be enough to give her a chance.
Before she opening the medpack she removed her gloves, then placed the content before her, all of it packaged in plasteel. The rest of her armor joined them.
Rha grabbed the pliers. The packaging was quite stubborn, enough that she had to use her teeth to rip it open, hands already weakening, same weakness spreading across her body like poison. She breathed in, counted to ten and forced herself to use the pliers.
She cursed to all gods she knew and the Force besides, in four different language, until her voice began to crack.
One after another, the pieces piled up besides her. Fresh blood trickled out of the wounds. Faintly, dazed by pain, she hoped no beasts would to track her down. No warning had been in the mission dossier, but well – this was an assassination attempt. Nothing could be trusted.
Between the fresh agony and the old pain it was hard to tell if she had missed a piece. Rha nudged at the shards until they formed a vague image of the missing corner, held her hand next to it and compared. Well enough. But the back - a groan left her lips. She reached behind until fingers found the edge of her backplate and traced alongside it. Nothing missing. At least something. Ha!
The cuts and stab wounds were not an issue. She had slept off worse after a mission gone wrong, foolish, endangering herself like that, but it had been half the goal. But burns – the old scars on her back itched – the burns were bad. And the dirt and dust from getting thrown around . . She knew what she had to do.
Rha breathed in, recited the code for good measure and sprayed the disinfectant on her wounds. Her teeth sunk into her lip. She must not scream. She must not scream!
At some point she must have started crying, Rha thought, as she tasted salt on her lips. Salt and blood. She took another breath and sank deeper into the Force. Her eyes fell closed on their own. It was like moving through tar, exhausted in body and mind. The pain fed her power, the first turn of an whirlwind, but she struggled to focus. What once could have become an hurricane now slipped through her fingers and left her hollow.
She tried to find anger in her heart but she just was tired. So damn tired. Battle no longer held the same appeal as forty years ago. She just wanted to rest, put her blades down for once, to know peace. Lasting peace. There was no one left to avenge, apart from herself.
No one would come for her. Alright, that was alright, she reminded herself. It wasn't what she wanted but it must be okay. There was no use in defending an corpse, but she was not dead. Not yet.
The wounds, she had to close the wounds. But she could not move her hands. Needle and thread laid there, waiting and yet she could not make even an finger twitch.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. A ticking clock. Soon, soon, it said. Rest. So much to do. She could not recall what.
Maybe it was fine to sleep. Just a bit. Then she would wake up well rested and return to the fight.
Rha let herself drift off.
Her heart jumped, suddenly racing, startling herself back into awareness. An nerve in her back burned, her body shaking, hot and cold. Animal fear shot through her as she opened her eyes. When did she close them?
The last line of the Code rang out in her mind like bells tolling for her funeral: There is no death, there is only the Force.
And then she remembered and wanted to – just anything. Rha reached towards the Force, deeper into it than she had dared to before, no longer caring about corruption or insanity, only survival. A trance, if she could get into a trance, or draw more strength into her muscles, maybe she could lift her hand and live. Just this once, she wanted to live.
But despite the Force flooding her mind, a surge of sensation and images she had not seen before, a sweet song, she could not move an pebble.
It was quiet now. The headache Rha had not even noticed was gone.
Ghila . .
She must be dead already, to imagine her dearest Master, softly touching her cheek like she never died. Unbloodied, in white robes she never wore because she kept getting dirt on them. Rha tried to open her mouth. I missed you. Please. Stay.
And so death had come to her exactly as she thought, but not as she hoped. Some soft part of her had survived all these years and made her hope she could die of old age. A dream.
But it was alright. It must be, if she was seeing Ghila. Part of her felt sad for her friends, but they would manage. They were good at being Jedi. Not like her. Would the Force even take her? Was there a difference between light and dark?
She shifted. Pain rushed back in and the illusion shattered. If she could, she would have screamed.
No! She needed to go back. If she was going to die tonight, then she refused to do so in agony.
She wanted Ghila. She wanted the pain to stop. Just once. It had been an lifetime.
Come back. Please.
Please!
But she was alone. Alone and in agony.
The part of her mind Rha usually kept tightly chained and ignored, murmured darkly. Was this not familiar? Had she not laid dying once before? Another world, another day. Then she had wished to die and yet had lived. Now she wanted to live and yet would die.
Again, she sought out the Force.
Again, it refused to obey her.
Flames and shadows burnt beneath her eyelids. Gold and blue. It – she could not remember.
There was a soft touch on her cheek and for a moment Rha wondered why a corpse could feel, then she tried to open her eyes, for it must be Ghila, come to greet her.
An old bond thrummed back to life, cut strings retied. Her mind weakened by agony and bone-deep exhaustion let the intruder in. It wrapped around her, an fly trapped in an spiderweb, struggling weakly.
"Sleep." compelled an voice and she could no longer resist.
It was hot. A blanket covered her, soaked with sweat. Rha tried to push it off her, but a sharp tug around her wrists held her down. Fuck. Captured – by whom?
Her legs were secured as well, but she was not cut off from the Force, for all that it was eerily quiet and even. Alone, droids or hiding?
They must want her alive. If it was the Empire, well, it would be bad but not the worst. But if it was Vitiate - she was not going to let him turn her into one of his meat puppets.
Rha swallowed. Her throat was dry, like she slept too long. An drip led from her arm to the side and to an clear bag. Considering the lack of pain, she must be drugged. The room was lit by low lighting and empty apart from her, walls bare and windowless. She could not see an door. It must be behind her head.
With an force-push she removed the blanket and broke the cuffs with an enhanced tug. Far too easy. As she removed the needle she heard the faint click of an door opening, jumped up and turned around, fingers reaching for her empty hip, only for her vision to go dark.
An blurry figure caught her before she could crash to the floor. Rha groaned as she saw his face.
"Obscurus."
The Sith Lord wore black robes, trimmed with gold, and an red cloth over his eyesockets. Rubies adorned his fingers and shoulders, as if they were dripping blood, thin golden chains draped over his collar. His lips were painted black.
"Rha." he answered and helped her sit down. "How do you feel?"
"Thirsty"
He smiled. "That can be amended."
Obscurus stepped out of her view and returned with an water bottle. The seal was untouched but that meant nothing. Still, she drank it. If he wanted to, he could have put her in force-suppressors or an cell meant to hold Jedi, not whatever this room was.
"How did you even find me?" She had been traveling under the orders of the Masters of Shadows, trying to find one of their own, Auren. Force help him. Maybe he had managed to escape in the chaos. An invasion was an very good cover.
"I was trying to contact to you." Obscurus sat down on the cot. "Your posting was far too easy to find – if you weren't on official business?"
"Not official. His doing?"
How could Vitiate influence where she was send? Sure, there was always the possibility of an spy, but the Shadows used a different system. Apart from a few chosen, she was just a string of numbers to her fellow Jedi. Security was tight, had to be, and the only reason her true nature was not found out was because part of it had been expected. Hatred for Sith was easy to excuse.
"Maybe on the transport." she suggested.
"I do not know for certain, but he has a lot of hidden followers. How many Jedi did turn out to be secretly his?"
"A few. But still I should contact someone. Surely I am not the only one he tried to kill."
"Perhaps."
"You disapprove." Even after all these years, reading him was easy enough.
"Worry not, I will not force you to stay."
She rolled her eyes. "Master, just tell me what is wrong."
"You are dead. The Order declared you were killed by insurgents and even burnt some robes for you."
Unexpected, but useful. They would need people out of Vitaties, out of Zakuuls, view for the battles to come.
"I see."
"No, you don't! You are free. Rha, you can stay here or go wherever you want, but you don't have to go back," he urged her, desperation written across his face, "You can retire. Rest, for once."
"I -" She paused. Obscurus was not wrong, yet not right either. "The Jedi know I am not actually dead. They are just trying to protect me from Vitiate."
Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie or at least an uncertain truth.
"Excuses."
"I cannot."
"You are scared. It's alright. I was scared too. We never knew anything but the Jedi. Change can be terrifying."
How dare he! After he left her behind, left her alone for so many years, to become a Sith and now he tried to – recruit her? Help her? Where was his help twenty years ago, when she needed it?
"You no longer command me, Darth. Let me finish talking." Her eyes flared gold. "I will not do as you did and leave my Padawan behind, worrying about my fate and no idea what happened. If anything happened to her while I was gone - " She stopped herself from continuing.
"You worried?"
She felt an sudden yearning for her lightsaber. "Yes," she said softly, "You know, I thought it was a mission at first. But you left me and I -"
They both knew. "Tried to kill me several times. I noticed."
"Yeah." She ran her hand through her hair. "I – Why now? We have been in contact for years and now you - "
"I nearly lost you. Again. Forever."
His pain, his sorrow radiated in the Force. The flame of her anger was hard to keep alive, when he looked like that, startling vulnerable, when he felt just like her. And it had been long since she truly wanted him dead. She just wanted him back.
"I am glad you found me. It wasn't – I did not want to die." Rha left off the 'anymore'.
Obscurus leant down and kissed her head. "I know."
He always knew.
But a question, the question, still burnt in her mind, as it has for so many years. "Why did you not take me with you?"
"I would have ruined you." His emotions twisted like shadows around him. Affection, regret and guilt – but also horror. For a moment she saw what he imagined: Her, the Force ragged with pain and death, her death, smooth stone and hot sand, her tomb and all the ways she could have ended.
"I was ruined anyway." Rha said softly. "Staying a Jedi did not save me. Nothing could have."
Not after Ghila. Not after that first loss, that first fall. She was doomed before she ever turned fifteen.
"And I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you, but I – I could not take you with me. You would have been great as Sith, but - " His voice broke.
Rha thought back to her young self and knew the answer. "Unhappy."
It was an understatement. She had wanted to be an Jedi, no, needed to be an Jedi and she had fought for it, to be more than a blade and yet – she was a warrior, not an healer, not an diplomat. Not the path she had dreamed of.
Nowadays she no longer knew. Thrice now she was offered a place among the Sith, thrice now she refused. But she could not fool herself. She was happy to have been offered such and duty made her deny. Duty and more, yet not as harsh a refusal as it once would have been. Perhaps it was corruption, perhaps it was – well. Rha imagined a lot of reasons, but her heart and mind were uncertain. Better not to dwell on it.
"What's my status?" She tugged up the far too large robe she was wearing. "Did you put me in your clothing?"
"Yes. Don't poke it." Obscurus sighed, purposefully loud. She ignored him and touched her side.
Through the bandages she could only feel faint pressure. "What dose did you give me?"
"Force, you still can't keep your hands off your wounds."
"I can." Rha lied.
He sighed again. "Combat Sith-grade painkillers, recommended dosage for use during battle."
"Fascinating."
"I have also acquired sleeping pills, scar-reducing cream and more kolto for your use."
"Leave off the kolto."
"And prepared quarters for you."
That was not surprising – after all it was him – but still concerning. Did he even intend to let her go?
"Where are my lightsabers?
"Outside – I did not want to chance you cutting of my head for being here."
"I haven't tried to kill you in years!"
"All the more." Obscurus helped her up. "Let me show you your room."
Dark wood covered the walls, frescoes of great battles and beasts, adorned with a flash of gold here and there. Rha had to smile. It was good to see that he was indulging himself. Her old master always liked wood carvings. She used to try and make some for him, but nowadays the tools gathered dust in her temple room, shoved into an box and forgotten for thirty years.
As they went through his stronghold, the lighting became darker and darker, until she had to rely on his hand on her back and the Force to guide her. An intimidation tactic for other visitors or just him not having useless lights in his private areas?
Then Obscurus showed her the door. "Set any code you like – I do have an override."
It was not just a room, but several, her own house within his, from kitchen to bathroom to reading room. The first room was big enough to spar in and empty apart from the doors leading away.
"Of course, you are allowed to change anything. My steward can acquire you anything you'd like." Obscurus opened the door with an wave. "As promised, your weapons. The rest of your gear should be somewhere in an box."
Her lightsabers laid on the bedside table, next to an datapad, all dark wood and silver, matching the rest of the bedroom. The bed was huge, with purple drapes and cover, one side shoved against the wall. A single plant stood in the corner with an sun-lamp above it.
"The datapad has a copy of your med data and treatment plan."
Rha summoned it to herself. It accepted her fingerprint as unlock and she checked the file. Most of it she knew already, fluid and iron to replace the lost blood, no heavy lifting, fatigue - "Skin grafts?"
"Only a suggestion. But Rha, please do consider having actual skin."
She rolled her eyes. Despite not lacking offers from the Jedi healers, Rha had never gone under surgery to reduce her scaring. And no matter what anyone else thought, she had taken an liking to them. At first an painful reminder, now she could not imagine herself without her scars.
"I'll be out of combat for months."
"You will be anyway – or you could use Kolto."
"Kolto is too damn expensive."
"I like putting my money to good use. Let me take care of you. Please."
Well, she was not twenty anymore. Denying him wasn't going to make her lighter.
"I'll think about it." She sighed and yawned.
Obscurus smiled at her. "I'll leave you to rest. Do tell me if there is anything you need."