Chapter 26: Ashes & Lullabies

Chapter 26 of: The Fate of the Wandering: Ashes & Lullabies

'Make a wrong turn somewhere?'

At this, Ian raised his eyebrows and walked backwards to the source of that voice, shoes treading above the marble tile floor. Sun splayed in through the windows, and ash and dust lay forgotten in the fireplace. It was just another morning in Coruscant.

'Dustil,' Ian replied, by way of greeting.

'Ian,' Dustil said, just as solemnly.

Ian smiled at this. His short, dark hair was as curly as ever, and his yellow eyes glinted in the dim sunlight. 'What are you doing here?'

Dustil groaned and sat up from the cushion he had been lying down on. Before him, a table of pazaak cards lay scattered. 'I was playing pazaak...But apparently my partner ran away.'

'You looked more like you were sleeping than playing pazaak,' Ian noted.

Dustil rolled his eyes, and ran a hand through his brown hair that was sticking up all over the place. 'Ever the aware one, aren't you?'

Ian knelt down and started to tidy up the table, his amber eyes alert and vigilant. 'I'm guessing Mission was your pazaak partner? Where'd she go?'

'No idea.' Dustil sighed and stood up. 'Last night we were playing pazaak, here, at this table, and then she beat me, as usual. We said good night and then...Oh, Gods.' Dustil stared into space, horrified.

'What?' Ian said, standing up and handing him the pazaak deck, which Dustil pushed away in aggravation.

'I made a pass at Mission,' he said, his eyes growing wide.

'What?!' Ian repeated, gaping at him.

'I don't believe me,' Dustil groaned, slapping his forehead. 'I'm such a--What was I thinking?'

'Were you drunk?' Ian inquired, bluntly.

Dustil shook his head. 'No. No. It was just the--the fire and the light and her eyes and the way she laughed, and I think I just lost it and--'

'Well?' Ian demanded. 'How did she react?'

Dustil stared into space. 'I don't remember. She didn't hit me or pour anything on my head...I think she just...ran away.'

Ian just looked at him. 'That's it?'

Dustil nodded. 'Yeah. That's it.'

There was a pause.

'Dustil Onasi, you are a moron!' Ian exclaimed.

Dustil jumped at this. 'What did you just call me?'

'You did something like that, and then you just let her run away?'

'Well, she did leave of her own accord. It was obvious she didn't want me to follow her.'

'No, instead, you decided it would be nice to doze off, here, on this couch, so that the next morning you could suffer memory loss and make it bloody impossible to talk to you! What were you thinking? 'Oh, yeah, I guess I just tried to kiss Mission, and she ran away, but I feel so tired from just sitting here and the fire in the fireplace is making me feel woozy--'

'Woozy?' Dustil repeated, raising his eyebrows.

''--so I think I'll just doze off right here and start a snorefest, while somewhere out there, Mission is probably going crazy wondering what I meant by doing what I just did!''

'You're not very good at doing Dustil impersonations,' Dustil remarked.

'Maybe not,' said Ian, frustrated, 'but you get my point.'

'Why are you the one acting all frustrated? You're not the one who started all this. It's me who's tangled up in this.'

'I don't know,' Ian said, shaking his head. 'It just made me mad, that's all. I think you're a bad influence on me, Dustil. I can't control my temper as well anymore. Anyway.' He glanced at a nearby clock. 'Masters Jolee and Juhani wanted us to meet them out by the steps after we get something to eat. We're going out.'

'But what if we see Mission?' Dustil asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. 'I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say to her? Do I apologize, and act as though I regretted it? What if that hurts her feelings? Or what if she doesn't even care about what happened? Or what if she just runs away and never talks to me again?' That thought dampened his spirits.

'Just tell her the truth,' Ian said, shrugging. 'Look, don't ask me. I don't have much experience in this department.'

'Apparently,' Dustil said. 'That's something you're never, for any reason at all, supposed to admit. Anyway, come on, let's go.' Dustil grabbed his jacket from the couch and they walked down the hall together. They were about the same height, Ian noticed. Dustil's eyes were flicking right and left.

'Calm down,' Ian said to him, in a brotherly fashion. 'Why don't you go wash up or something, and I'll grab some food and meet you out by the steps, all right?'

'Yeah,' Dustil said, distracted, and headed up the stairs to the left. 'All right.'

Ian watched him go, shaking his head. He grabbed a few left-over banja cakes and wrapped them in napkins, downed a glass of caffa (he loved it just as much as Elaine did, just stronger and blacker), and headed out the doors to greet the Coruscant morning.

Juhani was already there, but Jolee was not.

'Hey, Master Juhani,' Ian said, sitting down on the steps beside her. 'Dustil will be down in a few moments. Where's Jolee?'

Juhani did not answer immediately; instead, she looked out towards the city with something that resembled scorn. 'I do not like this place,' she said. 'I do not like the...the feeling this place possesses. It's...too loud. Too busy. Like Taris, except, perhaps not as hateful. The wind, however, is nice. Like Dantooine, but that doesn't bring too many good memories either. There are a rare few. But I cannot stand being here. The feelings it stirs...I need to go...'

'Juhani?' Ian said, worried. 'Go where?'

She seemed to realize that her Padawan was sitting beside her. 'Nowhere,' she said. 'Do not mind me. I am sorry, Ian. I was...I was lost in my own meditations. As to your question, Jolee is making preparations for our nearby journey today. Do not ask me where we are going. He will answer that yourself. I believe he'll be down shortly.'

Ian nodded, and together the two sat in silence, watching the city scene pass by them, both content in the quiet two individuals could share. The comfort and peace of knowing that you did not have to say a word.

Then, the door behind them opened, and they heard footsteps and familiar voices.

'How can I wake up on the wrong side of the bed?' Dustil wanted to know, talking to Jolee who was beside him. 'My bed only has one side!'

'Well, you better double-check, my boy,' said Jolee decisively, strolling down the steps. 'I've met kinraths and Dark Jedi more pleasant than you. And considering how many of them I've actually met, that's saying a lot.'

'How many have you met?' asked Ian curiously, gingerly getting up.

Jolee sighed. 'Enough to know better than to search them out of my own free will, unlike you hot-headed youngsters.'

'All right, all right, I get it!' Dustil exclaimed. He sighed and headed down the steps as well, at the right of Jolee. 'This Onasi is cheering up in exactly five seconds. Where are we going, anyway?'

'You'll find out once I find the damn map,' Jolee grumbled, digging into his robe's pockets. 'It's been a while since I've been on this planet, if you want to know. And 'a while' meaning back in the days when the Coruscant Clashers were the band of the time. And by 'band,' I mean a group that plays music, and by 'music,' I mean that in the loosest sense of the word.'

'The Clashers?' Dustil questioned, raising his eyebrows.

'I prove my point exactly. Anyway...Darn map. Somebody must have strapped a stealth field generator around it, because whenever I need it, it always seems to disappear.'

'That's very convenient,' Ian said obligingly.

'I'll say,' Jolee returned darkly. Now they were heading down the street, but for all anyone knew they might have been going in the wrong direction. 'I could have sworn I'd written down exactly where I put the map. See, the thing about getting old is you need to remember to write down what you need to remember to do.' He paused. 'And then, you need to remember where you put that paper.'

'Honestly, Jolee, I do not think we need one.' Juhani spoke softly, and then pointed ahead of them.

Dustil whistled. 'I'd say those spires speak for themselves.' He looked up in awe, and Ian beside him did the same.

Together the foursome headed up the stairs and into the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The clamor of the street outside suddenly seemed to drown out. There was nothing but this place, the atmosphere dense with the history of many years passing by. The air was cooler, and it was calm and tranquil, yet on guard, as though ready, waiting for the right moment.

Sunlight streamed through kaleidoscope windows, sending thin slivers of golden rays reflecting onto the silvery waters. Hundreds of pools lay down the immense hall, columns on either side numbering just as many. A silence so thick had fallen upon all four of the visitors. It felt like a single chime could break the balance that was found here, and send layers of water rippling down again.

Jolee and Juhani closed their eyes and remembered this room in its former glory. Fountains had spurted water in glorious heaps to meet the sky, criss-crossing each other. It had been a triumph of this galaxy, and the sound of the fountains roaring and rushing in its crescendo had become as common to the ears as any other music. A soothing, calming lullaby.

Now, it was too silent.

When Juhani spoke, her voice echoed. 'This is the Room of a Thousand Fountains,' she spoke. 'It used to be a marvel, and it still is, but for different reasons. The waters here, below the Jedi Temple, fell silent in reverence and respect to the memory of those lost in the Jedi Civil War. Those whose lives were taken, or those who decided to turn on the Light.'

'Isn't that about the same thing?' Ian said, but so quietly as he was distracted by the sights far deeper in.

Bundles and bushes of Flora, whose scent was lush and dizzying, marked a path. Lean sticks of stiff bamboo rested against the walls, and benches as well as numerous pottery pieces added to the decoration. This place was also a garden.

'It's no wonder where this place gets its name, that's for sure,' Dustil said, feeling suddenly humbled by the simple extravagance of this place and the natural beauty it possessed.

'Well color me bronze, the boy has eyes,' Jolee uttered in teasing amazement. 'Come on, there's a meditative spot your Master Juhani and I have found and claimed as our own. That is, if you're both done gawking.'

Ian and Dustil both blinked.

'Well,' Ian said numbly. 'You never said we couldn't gawk and walk at the same time. We'll follow.'

'Carth has never shown you this place before, has he?' Juhani said in slight surprise, as they walked along the stoned path to their destination. Her voice, which earlier had been proclaiming the origin of this place, now felt hushed. This place seemed to have a similar effect on everyone.

'He's spoken about it,' Dustil replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his new Jedi robes that suited him rather well. 'He's just been busy.'

They passed by two scholars who were reading over a heavy volume, but they both looked up and nodded in acknowledgement at the two Jedi Masters, before continuing their stroll.

'How does that feel?' Ian wanted to know. 'Having people nod and bow to you all the time.'

'I'm not sure if it's something I can get used to so quickly,' Juhani answered honestly. 'I've become accustomed to...other sorts of treatment.'

'It's a nice change though,' Jolee said, stroking his goatee. 'Respect. I tell you, I lived in Kashyyyk for Force knows how many years, and the only thing I ever got referred to was a 'hermit.' Lovely way to first greet someone, I tell you. Still. Everyone else thinking I was some kind of forest spirit gave me the space and time alone I needed. Ah, now here we are.'

They had reached the place, an enclosed area surrounded with vegetation and encircled by a bench.

The four of them formed a squarish-circle on the moist ground and, watching Jolee and Juhani's example, Ian and Dustil closed their eyes in turn.

'Calm yourself,' Juhani murmured.

With his eyes closed, Ian could hear himself breathing; felt each rise and each fall. And then a vision swam before his eyes. It was as though he had never closed them. Ian saw a girl on the other side of a fountain nearby, about his age. Sunlight flickered behind her curtain of red hair. This young woman wore all white. She sat on the edge of the fountain and dipped a white flower into the water, with tints of blue and green. She gathered the flower back into the palm of her hand, feeling the water drip, drip, drip. Then, she looked up and into Ian's eyes. And hers were gray.

'Calm your anger,' Juhani continued. 'Your frustration...Your impatience of waiting...' She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. 'All gone.'

Ian opened his eyes and startled, stared across the expanse of water that had kept him from the dreamgirl. Nobody was there. That's what it must have been, he thought. A dream. I had my eyes closed the whole time. But who was that? What happened?

'Feel the history of this place.' Jolee continued where Juhani had left off. 'As we start your real lightsaber training tomorrow, remember that war and fighting and chaos...Remember what it brought to the people who died or turned during the Civil War. Remember the reason why these fountains are silenced and dead. Remember those that we have loved that have passed away. Remember, my friends, and never forget.'

Atton felt her before he saw her, lingering over his shoulder. The air sparkled with a tension, an electricity that knew no bounds. And as he stared into a mirror, a mere glass of reflections, and as he stared back at himself blankly, Renee chuckled darkly.

'Spreading stories about me, are you?' she murmured to him, behind him. His eyes flitted briefly to hers, and then found they couldn't move away. 'And you were the one who always talked about how you hated rumors...Well, keep talking, Jaq. Make me famous. Either way, I win. There'll be something of me left behind when I move on. But what about you? When you leave, who will miss you? That little blonde? Are you still trying to deceive yourself that she cares about you? That she's just too scared, unready, about what might happen?'

Her emerald eyes glittered wickedly, and then changed, to show genuine sadness. 'Why won't you come back to me, Jaq?' she whispered. 'I did what I had to do.'

Atton's eyes moved back to his own, and he jumped at what he saw. Jaq. Cruel, cold, dark eyes, a lingering smirk at the curve of his mouth, a scar jutting down the side of his face, ragged and fierce.

'You know,' Renee said, her red lips parting, purposely distracting, 'She can't help me. You wish she could. But she can't. After you left and went after that Jedi, when I was out on a mission, I got captured. That's right, Jaq. Who would have deemed it possible?' She laughed. 'Ironic, isn't it? We split up, go our separate ways for one moment, and then, things all fall apart. And here I thought I could survive without you...'

Her voice trailed off, but when it came back, it was hard. 'But I did. My captors, do-gooders and Force-sensitives, apparently had heard about me and the damage I had caused. With you. They wanted to know where you were, but I didn't know, did I? And so they tried to break me. They tried to show me the Light. Told me I could change, use my talent for the better cause. Over and over and over until I thought I could not take it anymore. One more time, and I thought I would finally just give in.

'They were so naïve, Jaq. Like children. And I was their play toy. People give out many definitions these days, but as for me? This was hell.

'But then came the day when the Force-sensitives departed. Last I heard, they found their end on Katarr.' She chuckled, softly. 'A force beyond my control. And then, a man named Voren came to free me. Found his way in. Needed me, he said. Oh, he had a way with words. What a liar he was. And he set me free. And together, we killed off the rest of my captors. I had not felt so free in so long.'

Renee stared hard at Atton, at Jaq, in the mirror, and lowered her voice. 'So if you really think that your Jedi is special, that maybe she could have something to show me, that she could be the one to turn me, I think you'd better turn around and try to break through the atmosphere seal they have over this planet. The odds of being successful at that are actually higher than trying to 'save' me.

'You said it before, didn't you?' Renee said. 'Maybe we don't want to be saved. And I don't, Jaq. I really don't. I'm happy. But you and I both know this won't stop you from trying, right? Just tell your little friend this: So many of them, the best, tried to turn me back to the Light, but they failed. All of them failed. So what chance does she really think she has?'

Her voice faded off, and the lights dimmed. When Atton woke up, head jerking from his pillow, he was breathing hard. He stared up into the empty darkness of his room, shadows and moving lights playing over the ceiling. He could have sworn he still felt her presence there.

Demi had beaten him to the main hold, sitting to the side. It was of the early hours of the morning, still dark. Her legs were resting on a chair in front of her, her back leaning against the wall. A notebook was on her lap, and she bit her lip as she traced a line on the page, adding shading here and defining shapes there. Her head was tilted to one side, as she critically observed her drawing.

Demi's eyes were completely focused, flicking and darting back and forth, and she did not look up when she said, 'Nice night, isn't it? Assassins on the loose, past memories running amok, cryptic prophecies being told, people getting hurt, shared dreams ruining sleep...And I can't think of anything else off the top of my head because I'm a bit brain dead at the moment, but all in all, it's not my ideal night.'

'After going through all that, you'd think you'd be a bit more tired,' Atton said in reply, joining her at her left. She scooted over to make some more room for him.

'I don't want to go back to sleep,' she told him gently, placing her boots back on the chair before her. 'Can't, is more like it. I can't rest easy until this is all over...And I guess now that's about the worst pun I could make. Because now it's literal.'

'Nah,' Atton said. 'I've heard worse.'

'Always good to know,' Demi smiled. Their shoulders were lightly touching, but there was nothing uncomfortable about the situation. There was something slightly of a dreamlike quality about this moment. Some cities never slept, but here, nobody was there except for them. Everything was quiet. Everything, for once, was still.

Atton leaned over to see what she was sketching. It was a profile of a person, shadowed on one side so half of the features were indistinguishable. It was as though, part way, the artist had started drawing an entirely different subject, her hand changing its mind and moving of its own free will. The other half of the face was in light.

'Decided to throw me in at the last minute, I see,' Atton said, holding the corner of the page to see it more clearly before letting go.

'Your eyes are really hard to draw, you know? So many layers...' Demi sighed as she added a few more strands of hair to his portrait. 'I'm really not an artist. This was sort of a random thing. I'm probably wasting precious, almost-extinct paper.'

'And apparently, you memorize how I look,' he observed. 'You don't need to look at me to draw me? If my eyes are giving you that hard a time, why don't you just look up? They're right here, sister.'

'Nope,' Demi said, refusing to do so, and not completely understanding herself the next two words she was going to say. 'Too hard.'

'Come on,' Atton wheedled, placing two fingers beneath her chin and drawing her closer to him. 'I'm not that bad looking, am I?'

She closed her eyes briefly as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She would not let him get to her lips though, so he relented and just rested his forehead against hers. For a moment they just were, and Demi felt herself slowly gravitating...wanting to feel again...

What are we, Atton? What are we trying to do?

Atton gave sort of a sad, soft chuckle before drawing back and Demi reclaimed her pen. 'You've got to stop doing that,' she muttered, although she wanted nothing more than to give in and just let time go on and on and never stop.

Atton didn't say anything and watched her continue drawing. Watched with growing alarm as she drew a scar down the side of the face of the person in the portrait. Watched as she drew damp hair over the forehead, watched as the eyes received an evil glint, and the person received a smoking cigarra in his fingertips.

'What are you doing?' Atton breathed, not able to move his eyes from the scene unfolding on the paper.

Then a table was drawn, then juma bottles splayed on top of it, drawn from the perspective of somebody seated behind them...

'Stop,' Atton said, staring at her. 'Stop right there.'

Demi just looked at him placidly. Remember this from your story a few hours ago? That was you, Atton, and that girl was me.

Atton swallowed, his throat feeling dry. 'So you mean to say that the first thing I ever said to you, ever, was, 'What the f--''

Demi covered his mouth here--

''--are you looking at?''

Demi cocked her head to the side at him, smiling slightly, sadly, knowingly. Her voice sounded strange, even to herself. 'Not as creative as Peragus, I'll admit, but it's still up there.'

Atton could have slapped himself on the forehead. 'Real smooth, Jaq,' he muttered to himself. 'Real suave. So much for first impressions. But, Demi...' Atton sighed and stared up at the ceiling. 'I would have remembered you,' he insisted, finally.

'Maybe a small part of you did. We caught each other's eye at a camp during the Wars, although I doubt you remember that. I didn't, except for this dream that brought it all back. On Peragus, I thought something about you was slightly familiar. But I didn't remember fully until now. I think that both of us have been trying to forget those years. It's only now that the memories have been resurfacing. By dreams, questions, events...Either way, I know that was me.' Demi sighed. 'I don't want to relive that time period ever again. I was so...confused. Even more so then.'

'That was after Malachor, right?'

Demi nodded silently. 'Right.'

Atton breathed in and drew up a chair so his legs could rest on it as well. 'Well, this sure changes a few things.'

'Not really,' Demi disagreed. 'I just...I just thought you should know.'

'You met...him. You met...' He dragged a hand through his hair like a ragged comb. 'Blast it all, Dem! You met Jaq. That's something that never in a million years I wanted to happen.'

'You didn't know I was a Jedi. So I really didn't. Meet him, I mean. At least, not the way your...targets seemed to.'

'But I was this close to figuring it out. I felt the loss of the Force in you, though back then, I had no idea what the hell it really was. I guess I just have to be thankful for not knowing, or who knows what might have happened.'

'Who knows,' Demi echoed.

'So we really met back then, didn't we?' Atton said. 'Well, if 'meeting' can be considered staring at each other or cussing at each other. But anyway, it was first at the camp--'

'Before we became all messed up--'

'Then at the inn--'

'Where we were messed up--'

'And then finally at Peragus.'

'Where I had revived and you were messed up all alone,' Demi said in solemn triumph.

'Unfair,' Atton said, smiling dimly. 'I wasn't the one suffering from an extreme lack of clothing now, was I?'

'You always like to rub that part in,' Demi said, resigned. 'Anyway...' She smiled, recalling. 'You basically witnessed a moment in history, you know. When you saw me there, in the inn I mean, that was the first time I had ever gotten drunk.'

'Really.' Atton's eyebrows jolted up in surprise. 'Just your first?'

Demi rolled her eyes. 'Well, I had had a few ales before, during the Wars, to celebrate victories, but never enough to get drunk. Besides, I was a General. And I was so young. I feared that if I screwed up, because of too much ale, I would get mocked behind my back...or something equally stupid. Mostly, I just preferred white chai or some kind of fruit juice and why are you laughing?!'

Atton shook his head, smiling. 'I was teasing around, and you took it to an extreme. Anyway. So there hasn't been a second time, has there?'

Demi looked at him strangely. 'No. Not yet, anyway. Why?'

Atton just shrugged and looked away, glad that his secret was still kept. And not glad, at the same time.

He jumped slightly when he heard Demi crumple up the drawing of Jaq, packing it in completely. Atton watched as the paper crinkled and tore, Jaq's face disappearing by a crease of paper that went over it. And just like that, he felt more relieved. Demi held it high in the air, about to throw it into the trash bin. 'Bet me if I can make it in?'

Atton took a slow, testing sip from a juma he claimed from the table. He exhaled in satisfaction before saying, 'I bet you will.'

'That's not how it works,' Demi said in protest.

'Demi, I've seen you throw things. More than that, actually. I've seen you throw, punch, slap, hit, kick, knee, jump, flip, shoot, strike...I know you can make any target you want. With your eyes closed, even. Being visibly violent has its downsides, you know.'

'Then I'll bet the opposite; that I don't make the paper in. You owe me five credits if I'm right.' As an afterthought she added, 'And I'm not that violent.'

Dismissing the last statement, Atton said, 'You're going to miss purposely. You owe me five credits if I'm right.'

Demi scowled and shook her head. 'Here I go,' she said softly, and from where she was seated, threw the paper towards the bin.

It arched easily through the air, but fell just short of the trash bin. However, before it hit the ground, an invisible force, like a jolt of a hand, guided the crumpled paper back up and into the bin.

'You cheated,' Demi objected, as Atton dropped his outreached hand onto his lap. 'You used the Force.'

'Scoundrel,' Atton said simply, as though the one word explained itself as well as him.

Demi shook her head, smiling to herself.

There was silence for a moment, and then they both looked at each other. It was times like these that made Demi forget everything else around them, and even if it only was one minute or one word, they meant a lot to her. Somebody should chronicle these, she thought, just in case I ever feel like forgetting things again. Something should be left. And yes, there was definitely something here. But what?

'Do you think Renee, from that dream, if that was really her, was telling the truth?' Demi inquired.

With that one sentence, everything changed. It was a subtle change, but it changed all the same.

Atton was silent for a few moments before he said carefully, 'I wouldn't put it past her, personally. Besides, that explains her disappearance all these years. --Not that I was looking for one. Or her. But she does tell the truth. She speaks her mind and calls 'em as she sees 'em.'

'It sounds more like she's opinionated than truthful.'

'Could be. Could be. Maybe sometimes they're one and the same.'

'You're still going to try and kill her, aren't you?'

He glanced at her once. 'Come on, Demi. You heard and saw the dream. I don't have a choice. And personally, it'll be really nice to get her out of my head once and for all.'

'Do you think that'll work? Do you think you'll feel anything when you kill her?'

Demi's eyes were passionate and alight, and Atton wasn't sure how she wanted him to respond.

'Just tell me honestly,' she answered, hearing this. 'Did you love her?'

Atton tapped his fingers on the juma bottle and took his time, taking a thoughtful swig before answering. 'I don't think it's that simple, but no. I didn't love her. If I ever did, time, the War, Revan, me, her, screwed it up. Maybe Jaq had loved her, in his own twisted way. Renee...she's complicated. And a real piece of work. But she's not all bad. Once, as Jaq, I caught this sickness. Blood, vomit, all over the place. Exaggerating I am not. And Renee took care of me for days.'

He laughed harshly. 'I don't even really understand why. We treated each other like dirt most of the time. But I know what she can do, I know what she's capable of. I know of the bodies that she's left behind and how she doesn't give a care at all. You want to know why I think she was causing such a commotion here on Nar Shaddaa? She was looking for Jaq. She made all the noise she could, spilled all the blood she could, because she knew that eventually Jaq would come. And I did, didn't I? I did.' He laughed again, and started to take another deep, deep drink, but Demi put her hands over his on the bottle to stop him.

'Let it go,' she said seriously, her eyes concerned. Atton didn't know if she meant Renee or Jaq or the bottle or all three. He sighed and relented, and the bottle slipped from his grasp. Demi caught it and put it on the table.

'We came here because we needed to help Brianna,' Demi said. 'And we are. Jaq and Renee had nothing to do with that decision. You are not him. Okay?' Atton just looked away so Demi sighed and slid from where she was sitting and kneeled on the floor, making sure that he had nowhere else to look but at her. 'It's a hard choice to make, Atton,' she continued. 'And it's not my decision. It's yours. Whichever choice you make in the end though, I want you to know that I'll back you up fully. But...I know it may seem like her death will also be the death of Jaq, but it won't. Killing her will haunt you and your thoughts forever. And you're haunted enough as it is. If you want to get Jaq out of you forever, killing off your memories isn't going to work. It's doing good, kind things that will really redeem you, not killing. And I know I sound like such a preacher right now, but it's true. It'll make you stronger, Atton. It really will.'

'Alright,' Atton said finally. 'Alright.'

'You understand what I'm trying to say?'

Atton finally met her eyes. 'Yeah. I do. And I'll try my best to do what you want me to do. But it may end up resorting to something we both know is unavoidable.'

Demi watched him for a few moments. She knew that she could not stop him from doing what he needed to do; from what he felt he needed to do. But she also knew something else, and that knowledge was strong enough so that she knew she could trust him. That he would do the right thing. And that he could do it on his own.

And then, Demi broke the moment with a yawn. She suppressed a laugh at this, and rubbed her eyes wearily. 'Force, what time is it?' she murmured, starting to get up.

'No idea,' he replied, getting up himself. 'We talked a long time.'

'Feels like it.' Demi paced a bit, then came back.

I know you think that Renee doesn't have a weakness. But she does. Her weakness is you, Atton. Just remember that. She glanced towards the starport dormitory. I'm pretty tired. I better go.

Atton started to reply, but she was already gone by the time he had decided what he was going to say. He stared after her for a long moment until she disappeared from sight, the corridor hiding her from him all too soon. He sighed, and headed in the opposite direction to his quarters.

The last thing he heard before he dropped his head onto his pillow was Renee's voice. Smooth, taunting, and too true.

We can never be friends. Now that we've gone this far. We share an attraction. What a charade, Jaq. What a charade...

And Atton woke up again.

He swept back the covers in one brisk motion, and, still barefoot, got down on the floor and did push-ups. His breath came out ragged but he timed himself well. He could feel his blood pumping in excitement and fear. Muscles that had not felt work during these few idle days felt young again. He then donned his Jedi robes, pulling his arms through the sleeves, and grabbed his lightsaber. Two blasters found their way to the belt at his hip, his laser into one of his boots, extra medpacs were collected, and a dagger hidden.

At the door, he cast his gaze around the dark room, holding his un-activated lightsaber down at his side.

She knows I'm coming, he thought. She knows.

And so does Demi.

He had to keep moving. Out of the room, into the main hold, down the ramp, and into the city streets.

I'm coming.

Lonely.

She did not know the meaning of the word. She surrounded herself with memories, thoughts, and past moments long gone, and convinced herself that she was not alone, that soon, there would be somebody by her side again. At the same time she wanted to feel that was better off alone, that she could rely on herself. She was tired of following others: Her parents, Revan, her captors, all long gone. And then there was Voren.

They despised each other with every particle of their beings, exchanging sharp words and inferiorities of the other, words meant to hurt. And yet, they needed each other. Thus the cycle of betrayal began.

Pride.

She did not know if she had ever possessed it, but she needed it now, more than ever. The only trait worthy of remembrance that she held was the power to inflict fear. For she was a thing of the dark, who danced among the shadows, unable to make the music stop.

She was a swan; sleek, beautiful, and at times, dangerous. She was Renee.

And she could not let go of the past.

He hated her. She could feel it, in the way he would not turn his head to look at her, in the way he strode ahead, a fury guiding his steps. The rain fell down all around them, and their surroundings were gray. Droplets of water dripped down her face and clouded her eyes. She had convinced herself that she was not crying.

They were two figures in black and whatever they had been, it was dying.

'Jaq,' she said now. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' She caught up to him and grabbed the wet fabric of his jacket sleeve, near the hand to swing him around 'Will you look at me?'

'What do you want, Renee?' Jaq demanded. Wet hair fell over his forehead, a gorgeous dark brown. But Renee could not smooth it away from his face. She could not force him to look her in the eye. 'Need me to kill someone else for you?'

No, Renee wanted to say. I need you. 'You didn't let me have the last word with them,' she said instead. 'I wanted them to know how I felt about them my whole life, but instead, Jaq, you killed them before I had the chance to say anything!'

'Oh right, poor you!' Jaq exclaimed, and he kept walking. 'Poor Renee with a bad childhood and bad parents! Poor Renee who could not get her revenge, instead having to skip her long monologue, as Jaq, beside her, got the job done quickly and cleanly, killing them fast. How long were you planning on making them listen to all of your pain and misery, tied up as they were? After thirty minutes, I wanted them to die, and I didn't even know them. After thirty minutes, I'm sure they wouldn't have minded either. They were begging me to take their life.'

He adjusted his fingerless gloves, flexing his fingers beneath them. 'So where to now, Renee? Got any uncles or aunts you'd like me to get rid of?'

'Go to hell!' Renee screamed at him. She covered her ears. She was acting like a child and she knew it, but at this point, she didn't really care. 'Just leave me alone! You don't know what I went through, flyboy, even as you walk through where I was born and used to live, even as you meet them yourself. Lie all you want, love, but you still don't know me.'

'On the contrary, Renee, I know you very well. Well enough, in fact, to know you're freezing your bones off, even through all your shouting. Here.' Gruffly, he tore off his jacket and handed it to her.

'And what am I supposed to do with this?' Renee said through gritted teeth.

'Wear it,' Jaq said simply. 'Maybe it will pacify you for a while. I can't get any damn thing done with you complaining to me all the time.'

'You can take your goddamn jacket and strangle yourself with it,' Renee said venomously, even as she shivered and her teeth chattered. 'I don't need your charity.'

Maybe she still has some pride after all.

The illusion doesn't last long. Jaq just laughed and threw the jacket at her face. Renee caught it in time. 'Just wear the thing, Renee,' he said. He brought a hand up, and instinctively, Renee jumped back. But he just rested a warm hand on her forehead. 'I was right,' Jaq sighed. 'You caught one of those fevers. Isn't this bloody perfect?'

Renee shoved him roughly away. 'Hands off, flyboy,' she said, her voice coming out in a whisper.

Jaq let his hand drop. 'Wear it,' he repeated in a hard voice, indicating the jacket. He started walking the other way.

Renee watched him go, holding the jacket in her arms. It was drenched, but warm inside. She slid it on, reveling in his body heat, and as she saw him go, she couldn't help but feel rotten inside.

I want you, she thought. I want to kill you and hate you and love you as long as I have you.

She hated herself because of this and did not want to follow him. But eventually, she did.

Now, she was curled up on her small cot, in her hideout. The jacket was still clutched in her hands.

She knew he was coming after her. Wherever he was. He was not Jaq. But Renee could not exist parallel alongside either Atton or Jaq. Only one of them was going to leave this planet alive.

Bring all you have, flyboy, she thought darkly. You're the weak one now.

She did not ask herself, as she closed her eyes and held the jacket hard in her fists, why she was still holding onto it. It was old, worn, and smelled of rain and dust. Dark and torn, dark and torn. It had been through a lot, just like them. But it was all she had. And so she turned to it and clutched it. A lullaby.

The chamber was filled with the sounds of stifled cries. Anybody could feel the frustration and never ending pain coming from beyond the door that held the prisoner inside. In the dark tower, even the rare comfort of a ray of light that fell through the high, small window was not enough. Elaine pulled and tugged and struggled at her chains in vain. Angry tears fell down her face. Every muscle of her ached, arms hanging above her, legs bound before her.

She hated how she could not feel the Force, not in this prison, not for a long time, and undoubtedly, not for a long time to come. She hated being here, being torn from the Light to the Dark, and how all she was able to do was wait and wait for the next torture to begin.

She did not sleep these days; how could she? She would attempt to close her eyes and rest her head on her arm, but the rattling of a chain, the opening of a door, always prevented her.

And she knew another thing. She had not felt this confined in a long time. What she wouldn't do to break free...But that was what these people wanted, so she suffered in silence. Or tried to.

Now, Elaine clenched her fists and screamed. The infuriating cry sounded unearthly and alien, even to herself, and proved that yes, another few days and she was sure she would go insane. If she wasn't already. The overwhelming sound relented, her lungs and throat giving out, feeling raw.

Elaine looked around with scorn and utter hatred at her surroundings. Red, angry sparks started to burn in her eyes. And she felt that.

No, she thought desperately. No, girl. Breathe. Just breathe. Try to relax. Don't let it take over. Don't think of anything at all. Don't think...

The door opened, hinges creaking.

'Another vision?' she said, tilting her head up to greet the person. 'I'm afraid we're all booked for today. If you'd like me to make an appointment scheduled for never--' She spat out the word '--I'd be damn happy to help you out.'

Aleksander chuckled darkly, but did not say a word. He was in his true form now. He kept to the shadows and shut the door behind him.

'So who are you?' Elaine asked. 'I can see your shape, but barely. Are you somebody I once committed a bad deed to? Did I kill your family? Are each of them in turn going to visit me as well?' Elaine gave a pained laugh and laid her head back. 'You know, it doesn't take long of listening to other people telling you how much they despise you, before you start to drown all the words out. Just a warning. So what do you want from me? Do I even know you?'

'Agitated words from an agitated woman,' Aleksander said, his voice deep and he held back so his face was hidden. 'The Sith Lord regains her sharp tongue and is blinded to what she knows. But that is only typical. For you do know me. You know me very well, indeed. Or perhaps it is me that knows you.'

Elaine's eyes widened. 'Your voice...'

'Ah...' Aleksander smiled in satisfaction. 'Now you are remembering.' As he locked the door, turning the key so the bolts clicked, he continued, 'I am the voice that told you to stay away from Nausuma, until you were ready. That was many years ago. I am the face behind all those who have made you suffer, here, in this cell. I am the guardian and keeper of the Ha-meshuns and their holy water, and I am immortal and possess more powers than you will ever know.'

'Aleksander,' Elaine finished. 'That's who you are.'

'And evidently, you have learned much on Atris' pitiful planet.' Aleksander crept forward, his armor clinking, stepping under the pale light. 'But not enough. Not what really matters.'

'You are the one I have to warn the Ha-meshuns about,' Elaine said, watching his warily. 'You and the rest of your Sith.'

'So now we have established who I am. But you, Revan. Who are you?'

'I am Elaine,' she replied, knuckles tightening over their chains. 'And I think there's been enough 'establishing' as there is.'

''Elaine,' you call yourself. A hollow shell, a name you hide behind, just as the old Council, now diminished, bless their poor souls, once did. But what is the person behind this name? And is that even your true name? Who is your rightful family? All of this, I know the answer to.'

'Apparently you know everything, so who am I to contradict you?' Elaine said bitterly.

''Who am I?'' repeated Aleksander. 'Such a simple question, yet one that can never fully be explained.'

'Are we done with the philosophies and can we got on with the part where I kick your immortal ass to the next planet?'

'That would be light years away.' Aleksander chuckled again. 'You are regaining Revan's ambitiousness. That is what we need. You grow more like your old self every day and you barely even realize it.'

'You don't know who I was or what I will be,' Elaine said, not spitefully, but calmly, quietly, stating it as fact. 'You don't have the right or authority to tell me what I'm becoming.'

'That is true. You are the only one who can, but you realize what you're becoming all the same. You mortals like to live in blissful ignorance, do you not? Even as you stay, imprisoned here. How do you think I know what memories will hurt you the most?'

There was a dense silence for a moment, and Aleksander started pacing around the room. 'Even though you spent five years in Anarca, you failed to learn that I had the power to clone people, that I had the power to read you and your motivations, and that I could do this easily and painlessly. It's similar to reading a book, perusing freely through every moment someone else has gone through in their life in just a few seconds. And I can do more than that, as well.'

'You think you are a god,' Elaine said, her voice cutting through the air, filled with obvious contempt. Her blood boiled and raged in her veins, and she suddenly felt that no matter what, she could not hide.

'It's a simple matter of power,' Aleksander proclaimed. 'Who has it and who doesn't. Who has more and who knows how to use it.'

'And I suppose you do?' Elaine said sharply. 'Is this--' She tugged at the bonds that held her--'doing the right thing? Is this...power?'

'You are forgetting the time when your own Assassins did the same thing; you forget how effective it was. You are a daughter of darkness, no matter how much you try to deny it, to turn your head from it. However, none of that matters now...' Aleksander knelt in front of her, the tip of the sword at his belt touching the ground, scraping the stone. His dark hair grew like a thick mane over his shoulder. 'Not until I have you by my side...'

And then Elaine could see his eyes, and a jolt sped through her spine. He had violet eyes--with red sparks. Aleksander hissed his next word. 'Granddaughter.'

'No,' Elaine breathed. Refusing to believe...Eyes wide...

And then the world went black, black as night. But colder.

:) tWiNkLeT.