Chapter 30: What Dreams May Come

Part II of The Fate of the Wandering

Chapter 30: What Dreams May Come

A/N: Okay, erm, just bear with me. I promise there's some violence somewhere in here. lol ;)

The moment Demi's eyes fluttered open, she was immediately bombarded with a headache of white, swirling lights that glared from up above her. She groaned and rolled over, only to jerk up and sit up as a shock of pain shot through her spine. The familiar sting of Renee's knife drawn across her back completely woke her up. She closed her eyes and could see Renee's emerald ones staring right into hers.

"Gonna kill me?" Renee had taunted, grinning, breathing hard.

Demi shook her head and opened her eyes more slowly and carefully. The first thing that came to mind was that somebody had kidnapped her and put her back on Onderon, in Dhagon Ghent's medical lab. White beds lay down the narrow room in a long row, and it was dark, excepting of course, for the various lights much like the ones above Demi's bed. To her right, much further down, was a large sliding door, slightly parted, which revealed a silvery moon. She had slept through a whole day.

Demi looked down at herself, pushing back the stiff, white sheets. She was dressed down to her plain top and leggings she wore beneath her Jedi robes, and was barefoot. The glass shards in her leg had been carefully and professionally removed by someone and felt as though some herbal ointment had been spread upon the raw skin. The arm that Renee had shot at was now bandaged tightly although blood had stained through.

This inspection done, she turned to the left side of her bed and set her feet down, before seeing him. Atton had been sitting there, waiting for her to wake up no doubt, in a chair at her side. Now he had dozed off. Atton had his arms crossed and his chin down to his chest, while his head leaned against the wall to his right. His breathing exhaled in a sort of whistely sound.

Demi started to put a hand out to rub him on the arm and wake him but she withdrew her hand. He deserved to rest.

However, just as she set her small, bare feet on the carpet floor so she could explore the rest of this place, he spoke.

"Going somewhere?" Atton said, raising an eyebrow quizically at her as though he had been awake the whole time.

Demi let out a little yelp of alarm and instinctively her hand jumped to cover her mouth. "Force, Atton," Demi said, turning to look at him and slowly lowering her hand. "Were you awake the whole time?"

"If I'm not mistaken," Atton said, "you were awake for a good few minutes as well before you opened your eyes. What were you thinking about?"

"About how much I wished that I hadn't trained you how to read other's thoughts," Demi said pointedly. More quietly, she added, "How are you?"

Atton evaded the question by standing up and taking her by the elbow. "Come on. Follow me."

"What-? Atton..."

But Demi didn't have time to complain or protest because he was already walking down through the long, narrow room towards something further on. Demi looked around, sighed, and followed. They passed more beds, paper screens held between wooden beams that acted as dividers between the empty beds, tables that held medical equipment, one kolto tank...

"Where are we going?" Demi finally said aloud, looking around in mild interest, while cradling her injured arm at the elbow.  

"A kolto shower," Atton said simply, as they neared the end of the very long room.

"A-" Demi back-tracked. "A what?"

"Come on," Atton said as patiently as he could be at the moment, "Just get in." And he slid a door open and ushered her in.

The ‘kolto shower' was a small rectangular room with about four nozzles, two on each side, hanging high up on the walls. The floor was damp and small drains were at the corners of it. The glass walls were tinted a light mauve with uneven patterns all around. And lastly, it was open-aired and unlike anything Demi had ever seen before.

Demi watched as Atton headed over to a dial and inspected it for a moment before taking a chance and pulling at the knob. Then, he came back to her.

"What is this place?" Demi whispered.

"After...after what happened with Renee, I just woke up here, on the bed next to you. There's nobody else here, except for you, me, and this old lady that works here. She told me about this contraption, gave me instructions. Supposedly it contains some healing elements similar to kolto in it. It helps any wounds you have finish healing, all kinds of things. I didn't really have a chance to talk with her; she disappeared before I could ask anything, but I have to say, she was a hell of a nicer old lady than Kreia ever was."

Demi smiled softly and suddenly, all the four nozzles turned on. Warm, steaming water fell all around them, dripping down the glass panes, pouring down Demi's leg, getting into her hair, wetting down her clothes. But it was soothing, almost calming.

"Here," Atton said, his voice low, and untied the bandage at Demi's arm for her. Demi tilted her face up to meet the water and closed her eyes. The upset skin at the back of her leg seemed to smooth over and receive instant curing, and the aching pain at her back finally felt at rest.

"This is unreal," Demi said softly. She held out her arm to let the water treat it. Blood fell into the mix of water and swirled at the ground before disappearing into a drain. When she looked back at her arm, there was just a small scar to say there had ever been any wound there at all. She looked back up at Atton. "Were you very hurt?"

"Nah, you were the one who got a bad beating. I was just held against the wall while you fought her, and once I got free, I even fainted." Atton shook his head in mock shame, and a few droplets of water from his brown hair fell. "I really don't think I'm going to live that down."

"I wasn't the one poisoned," Demi pointed out.

"I wasn't the one shot at."

Demi smiled. "I'm not sure which is worse."

"Then I guess we'll call it a draw."

"I guess so."

Demi looked back up at him. They stood there for a while, staring at each other with a buzzing intensity as water fell like rain all around. They both stepped closer to each other, awkward on their feet, and it was as though they were getting reacquainted. The moment they had shared before the encounter with Renee seemed so long ago, more than it really had been, thus making it seem like a dream in which something beyond important had occurred; so important that its actual weight was unknown. Now they would find out for sure.

Hesitantly, Atton's arms enfolded around her and Demi held him around the rib cage. His chin rested lightly above her head. He let out a soft sigh and his eyes, so dark, slowly lost a bit of their weariness and sadness and gave in to a devotion that was so gentle and good that he finally felt that he could trust himself enough to be here at all. They just stayed like that for a long while, neither sure who needed it more.

When they finally pulled away, it was Demi who first leaned in and whispered to his ear, her cheek pressed against his, "I think this moment is much better than last year, when we danced at that cantina, because back then I was sodding drunk, and this time I'm only sodding wet, so really there's a big difference. Don't you think?"

She couldn't resist a small, ever-widening smile that those who have finally divulged their naughtiest secret make, as she pulled away and started to make her way out the exit of the kolto shower.

Atton stood there shock-still for a few moments, before everything suddenly jolted into place.  She remembered. And it seemed like he had always known; he always had.

"Oh no, you don't," Atton managed to say, grabbing her by the wrist. "You don't just say something like that, then leave, and get away with it." Slowly, he drew her back to him, suddenly all the more aware of his hands brushing against her skin. Goosebumps seemed to rise beneath his touch. It was probably just the cold air. Probably. "Not in my book."

"I didn't know you had a book," Demi said teasingly.

"Oh, I do," Atton replied somberly, and he shook the water out of his eyes and the hair that draped over them. "It's called How to Deal With Jedi Women: A Guide For Pilots."

"I think Carth'll want a copy," Demi whispered, her breath catching in her throat as they came closer, because she knew what would happen next, and then they kissed. At first, they laughed a little through it, using the comedy to cover up nervousness, a realigning of lips and hands, but as Demi found herself pressed up against one of the walls none too gently, all laughter was gone. Mist from the falling water they were wasting but not entirely caring about, slowly filled its way all around them, clouding their senses, making the illusion all the more real.

This was a moment Atton knew would be running through his head, a memory he would treasure and store inside a corner of his mind whenever he had nothing else to cling to; a memory that would be overused and recalled and worn, and eventually thinned out, but still, it would always be there.

Demi tilted her head back and he trailed his lips over the smooth whiteness found on her graceful, arched neck. Her hands cradled his head in an embrace and pressed him closer to herself. Her breath came out so sweetly as his hands wandered freely...She tightened her grip on the back of his neck and closed her eyes. The soft pressure from her fingers left white marks on the skin there, before finally disappearing as her hands untangled from his hair and slid down to rest over his shoulders. A shiver, perhaps only fractionally because of the now cold water, rippled through her body and he felt it as it happened.

As their mouths slowly met again, soft and searching for more, together their minds seemed to walk hand in hand and follow through all of the trials and events and memories that had led them here to this very moment, when he was hers and she was his, fully and wholly, nothing more or less. Demi wondered if a part of her always knew, wondered, even through all the pretending, if this had been from the very start something she had wanted.

It seemed so strange to be thinking this; they were strangers who knew everything about each other, they were friends who still had so much to learn about the other. They knew each other's secrets, and yet who knew what else the other still kept. Once, they had been reluctant comrades and companions, together with each other only out of necessity, and now what were they? Lovers? It seemed ridiculous to even think so, and yet part of it felt so right. The rest they would have to discover as they went along.

Clothing fell to the floor above their bare feet, and the water, streams below them, rain above them, played a background to their scene. Their warm breath fogged up the glass even more; Demi memorized every muscle, every counter of his.

Whatever doubts they held, whatever jealousies or frustrations, it was forgotten. All it was, was rain and skin and exploration and want. Want for more. Nothing was held back; it was rash and beautiful and desperate and not enough. When both were finally clawing for air, they remembered the water and, still holding each other, stumbled to turn it off.

Now, with the loudness of the pattering and thundering of the water gone, things seemed much more quiet, calm. Real.

"Hi," Demi said softly, breathing hard, feeling happy and pleasantly sore all over. Her blue and green eyes had never looked more beautiful. Water droplets clung to her lashes. Atton smiled fondly and pulled her closer into his arms for a deep, long kiss that left them both shuddering and clinging to each other for the vanished warmth the water had once held. Demi realized that her heart wasn't the only one thudding hard in its chest.

"Hey," Atton replied huskily, quietly, and this time it was Demi's turn to smile.

Was something sealed in blood now? Was this it? How did they end? Suddenly, both felt ten years younger, uncertain and shy.

"I'm..." Atton began, unable to convey what he felt.

"Yeah," Demi whispered, and Atton began to stroke her wet hair. It was frizzy and damp and messy now and he didn't care at all. She swallowed and closed her eyes, finally at peace. "Me too."

And then, she stood more on her tip-toes and in a heated whisper said the last three words that she needed to say, the ones she wanted to say, the ones that echoed back his words from a year ago. Atton's heart swelled in pride, a happiness and fulfillment that, at the same time, filled him with a sorrow he couldn't explain. All he knew was that he held her tighter and kissed her again.

And this time, both were thankful that there was no more need for words.

Just then, they heard the far-off sliding door open and somebody bustle in and drop what sounded like foot rations on a counter. Instantly, Demi and Atton froze.

"Good evening, younglings!" the newcomer called. "Where are you?"

"It's the lady!" Atton hissed, and both scrambled apart and searched for their missing clothing items on the floor. Sounds of, "That's mine!" erupted into the air and they accidentally hit their heads against the others more than once, followed by hushed exclamations of, "Sorry!"

The footsteps were fast approaching. Right as the healer reached it, the door of the kolto shower came sliding open of its own accord. Demi was in front, hair askew, breathing hard, and she stepped out, followed closely by Atton.

"I-I like your shower," she managed to say, before blushing bright pink and quickening her pace.

"Yeah, it-it's great," Atton said, and followed her.

The old lady turned and looked at their retreating figures, a bemused expression on her face. "Younglings," Pexelia said, shaking her head.

::.Coruscant.::

"So, when, exactly, did you decide this?"

Mira's voice rose over the mumblings of agreement or uncertainty, and seemed to echo up and down the length of the room. Everyone was there, and while the Jedi Masters sat in the chairs that formed a semi-circle, the circle was continued by Carth, Mission, and the rest sitting in similar chairs as well. Behind the heads of the Jedi Masters was Coruscant, a city now fully awake.

Carth sat in a chair that lay in shadows, watched a speeder far behind where Bastila sat, gliding and flying through the air. He found himself wishing that he could be there, up in the sky, not having to sit here imprisoned.

"Just after we received the holovid," Bastila was saying. "It was when I realized that the priorities I had been holding weren't exactly..."

Carth looked away and drowned the voices out, before realizing that everybody was now looking at him, expecting some sort of answer. He had not been following the conversation.

"I have nothing to say on this," he said, and resumed looking out the large windows. If he could have arrived late or not at all, he would have, but arriving late would attract more attention to him and right now, that was the last thing he wanted.

He felt Ian Pace, as well as his own son, watching him curiously, but he couldn't be bothered to return the gazes.

"Son," said Jolee, re-positioning himself in his chair, "we're all discussing about rescuing your precious Elaine from some undecided fate, and you have ‘nothing to say on this'?" Jolee shook his head. "If my old wife was still alive, and not yet veiny or murderous or turn-on-you-traitorous, she would have something to say on the matter of you." Jolee harrumphed. "That you can count on."

"You're all here at Bastila's request, not mine. This meeting was not my idea."

"Well, what about the big rescue plan?" Mission wanted to know. "This is a big deal, Carth. Are you saying you're not for this at all, or are you?"

"I'm saying-" Carth found his voice rising with an anger he did not know himself to have, and luckily Dustil interceded.

"He's saying that, like all of us, he wants Elaine-and the galaxy-to be safe, but, also like all of us, he has some doubts." Dustil looked around the room expectantly. "And don't all of us have some doubts about this?"

Thank you, son, Carth thought, as the room melted into silence and some mutterings.

"I'm not saying I don't have doubts about this too, because I do," Mission said, finding it hard to direct this at Dustil, so instead she said it to Zaalbar, who took it in understandingly. "But we've saved the galaxy before, right? And now, there are so many of us. We're all together. Don't you think we have a larger chance of-"

"That was before the disappearances of Demi, Atton, T3, HK, and Mandalore," Bao-Dur said quietly. With each name he said, hope seemed to drop a little. "Not to mention the fact that we no longer have the Ebon Hawk. Without the presence of them, their skills, and the transportation, I think taking on some Sith Empire in which more then half of the occupants are immortal, drops our ratio of winning quite a bit."

"Well, they're off trying to save Elaine too, aren't they?" Mission insisted. "Well, not Canderous, I don't know where the Candy-Man really is, but, we know the location of Demi. They're all on Nar Shaddaa. Couldn't we meet up with them, join ranks, and-"

"And what?" Mira said. "Say, ‘Sorry that we let you go off into this big expedition all alone, and we have no idea what troubles or mess you have gotten into now, but now, many, many days later, we've changed our mind and think we might like to join this jolly journey altogether; sorry, we should have told you and gone with you sooner?' Mission, I agree with you all the way, but we have no idea what they're doing right now. For all we know, they could be seriously hurt, and coming in at the, I don't know, the intermission like this seems a bit undecided, doesn't it? Like they go through all the scrap first, and only after they clear the way, we join in. Seems unfair."

"If they are hurt," Zaalbar said, "it is our responsibility to be there to aid them. Unfair is unimportant."

"I agree," Juhani said. "I think they'd rather be more glad that they have aid and are alive, instead of becoming annoyed at the fact that the situations are, as you put it, unfair."

"Look, I never said I didn't want to help them," Mira said angrily, flustered. "All I'm saying is, if I go into some life-threatening mission, and I'm all beat-up and dirty, then all of you come storming in at the last minute, all glowing and unhurt and beautiful and you save the day, I'd be a bit more begrudging rather than thankful."

"But begrudging and alive, rather than dead and gone, doesn't it seem a bit more appealing?" Mical said pointedly. Mira glared daggers at him.

"Maybe that's the wrong word, but..." Ian swallowed. "Their pride may be hurt, but they're our only way after Nausuma and...my mother, so I'm saying I'm all for it." He was tempted to add, ‘Their pride be damned,' but withheld.

"Oh, I forgot," Mission said softly, eyes wide. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Ian said, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Yeah, I am. And I don't care if everybody thinks me coming in now is unfair, or whatever. I care about her, so I'm going after her. But I can only go if Carth goes, because she made me promise to look after him. So what's the verdict, sir?"

He turned to look at Carth, who was deep in thought. Such conviction and determination he has...Two traits I should have. Finally, Carth met his eyes and said two words.

"I'm going."

"I suppose it is settled, then," said Visas, who had been quiet during the whole meeting. Her voice, although soft, wasn heard by all. "But I go where the wind blows, where my leader calls. If Demi is in trouble, I would like to be in the same trouble with her, not watching from afar."

"Well said," Griff said, clapping his hands together. "Meeting adjourned, then. I suppose I'll just watch the home base while you all go after the two lady Jedi..."

"I hardly think so, Griff Vao," Bastila said, standing up. "You are coming with us. You know much about immortal water, clones, and this strange company of yours. Your knowledge will be much needed."

"Yeah," Griff sighed, falling back into his seat. "Yeah, I hear that a lot. I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"We'll be taking two ships," Bastila said. "We'll decide who goes with whom later. We'll all be heading in the same direction. Meanwhile, we need to prepare, and one of us should contact Demi and ask her to use HK to unlock the coordinates to Nausuma. And we should also question as to why she's in Nar Shaddaa at all."

"I can do that," Bao-Dur said, and they all started standing up to take leave.

"Good. Yes, I've heard of this new invention of yours. Carth-"

"I'll get the two ships," he said.

"Good," Bastila said again, relieved. She had been worried about him for some time. "Thank you."

Carth was the first to leave the room. And as he left, he wondered exactly who, aside from Elaine, he was doing this all for. Because he hardly knew.

"We leave tomorrow," Bastila decided, and that was that.

::.Nar Shaddaa.::

Far off, the sounds of pots clanging and food sizzling were heard as Pexelia busied herself with making dinner in the small kitchen. But still, two voices spoke in hushed whispers.

"So you didn't kill her." Atton's voice was grave.

"No."

"What stopped you?"

"I don't know."

"Jedi sympathy? Yourself? You couldn't just leave her there, like she's done to so many others, all of whom are now dead? She almost killed us in that junk heap, and if it wasn't for the mishap in the poisonous tunnels, she would have! You do know that, if given another chance, she's not going to go as easy on you."

"I know. She was even nice enough to tell me herself and spare you the trouble."

"How like her. Okay, then. So why?"

The bed she sat on creaked beneath her as Demi stood up and stared straight at him as he paced up and down the infirmary. "I couldn't not save her. And that's not the Jedi talking. It's me, Atton. Maybe it was foolish and stupid and perhaps, yeah, maybe I did feel a bit sorry for her. But I can't give you a clear, precise reason why I didn't kill her, other than the fact that I feel she deserves more."

Atton gave a loud, disbelieving noise, and turned away in frustration before coming back. Before he could go on, Demi interrupted.

"You had your own chances to end her life. So many, in fact. And yet you didn't take them, just like me. So perhaps you really understand why I didn't kill her, and perhaps I really don't have to explain myself, because perhaps you really already know why I didn't kill her, even if it can't really be put into words."

Atton just stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head and walking farther from her sight.

"Atton," Demi called after him. No answer. So she stood up, walked to him, and put two hands softly on either side of his face. "Listen to me. Remember that ‘junk heap' you're talking about? The one where we were tied up and shot or poisoned-"

"I remember it vaguely," Atton said dryly.

"It was rundown and dirty, and I don't think that was just any random place she chose to bring us. That's where she lives. That's how she lives now."

"I guess that explains the handcuffs on the wall, then, if you get what I mean."

Demi didn't laugh. "That's not what I'm talking about. Atton, you keep saying the difference between you and her is that you feel sorry for all you've done, and she doesn't, but I think she's starting to. She's just too tangled in all this to get out."

"Dem, how would you know?" Atton exclaimed, taking down her hands. "Have you ever done anything so bad that it kept you awake at night, tugging at your conscience? Have you ever truly done something so horrible, that you can still feel the blood of all the innocents you killed, hear their screams slowly fade away, just like they did the day they died right before your eyes, at your very own hand? Look at you! You walk the path of the Jedi, you've done anything wrong before in your life!"

Demi cast her eyes down and didn't speak for a long moment, but when she finally did look up at him, her eyes were on fire.

"Oh, Dem," Atton said slowly, realization dawning upon him. "Demi, I'm so stupid. I wasn't thinking. I forgot, if you can imagine that..." Then it struck him that perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say.

"It's okay," Demi said softly, more automatically than anything else, and drew away. Her eyes had lost the magic they had held earlier, and now just looked tired and haunted. "Sometimes I wish I could forget too. But that's the point. I can't. To make up for it all. But you get what I mean, right? All that you just described...I really do believe Renee feels it too. The...the killing of countless others, most or all of whom did not deserve to die. But they did-because we ordered it. Willingly, because it was the only thing to do. Even though I...we knew what it would mean. Innocent lives ruined and lost, and our souls held in hostage as we try to repent for what we did every single day. And maybe...the worst part is that sometimes, when I-we-really think about it, we don't think we would take any of it back. Or maybe we do, but we know we can't. We've looked death and guilt and war in the eye and made our choices. It's too late. But not for everyone. Do you..." She wet her lips and paused. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

"More than I wish I did," Atton replied. "Look, Dem, I...What you just said...You're laying down a lot of credits on the table because of this. This-this faith, in Renee. I wish I had it, I really do, but not everyone feels remorse, Dem. You've gotta believe me."

Demi did not reply, just looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Pexelia still working, happily, humming a tune. Former caretaker of Ian Pace, she was an elderly lady, with her gray hair tied up in a knot. Her hands were strong and tough as leather, used to hard work. There was nobody else in the healing center, just her and Atton and Demi.

"I'm not sure what I really believe anymore," Demi said quietly.

They heard the sound of running water as Pexelia washed her hands and then came to them.

"I do believe I've forgotten to tell you my name," Pexelia said. "And that young man did nothing to remind me about it. I'm Pexelia, but just call me Pex. Now, while the soups getting ready, let's take another look at the both of you. Do your wounds still hurt? Don't answer that; let me find my ointments...and bandages....and...." Her voice become undecipherable as she headed down the long row, a purpose in her step. Demi had exchanged a glance with Atton.

"Nice lady, isn't she?" he said. "Sort of just breezed past by us. But her ointment, that's something else. I don't know what she uses. Why don't you try and steal her recipe before we go, Dem? It's really-"

"I heard that, young man! I'm not so deaf yet!"

Demi smiled fondly. "I like her already."

"Why, thank you." Pexelia came back into their view, carrying a kit of supplies in her grasp. "Of course, you don't know a thing about me, so whatever would cause you to say that?"

"Well," Demi started to say, looking at Atton hesitantly, then back at Pex. "If you really want to know, I just meant that I can see into your heart, and I can see that you're a good person." Demi smiled. "When I'm older, I hope that I'm as strong as fiesty as you are."

"Oh, so I'm old now, am I?"

But there was a twinkle in her eye as she said that, and Demi could tell she was touched. Pex ushered her towards the bed and inspected the rashes on Demi's leg, the knife cut on her back, and the arm where she had been shot, rubbing ointment over each wound with a practiced hand. The ointment was calming and smelled of herbs and mint. Then, she gave Atton something to drink that would supposedly clean his system of the poison.

"You're both fine," she said at the end of all of it, with a self-assured tone. "I've seen worse and I have a feeling that both of you have too. You're both strong, and you're both fine now. The best thing you can do is have something hearty to eat, and have a good night's sleep. I won't ask why your bodies were in the street when I was conveniently walking by, or how you managed to get poisoned, stabbed, and shot all in one night, for this is Nar Shaddaa after all. You were in a horrible state when I found you, but even in quiet places like Dantooine, where I lived for many of my years, accidents are bound to happen. Like young Jedi giving birth. Anyway, take care, both of you. I'll be further down the hall if you need me, back in the kitchen. I'm still busy cooking that small meal for all of us; you're my only patients tonight. It won't be anything special. Just vegetable soup, meat sauteed with a garlic and mushroom sauce, some steaming hot, fresh bread, and some maple and nut pie with a side of cream thrown in just for the heck of it. Sound bearable?"

"I love this lady!" Atton proclaimed, and Pexelia took that as a yes. 

Now, it was just Atton and Demi again. Demi stared down at her hands as though searching for something there, her thoughts too many to fully grasp hold of.

"Leo," she said suddenly, standing up. "And Brianna. Force, I can't believe...They've been far from my mind and they're the most important thing right now. It's one of those things where something is just swimming under your subconscious, so close, that you overlook it." She looked around for her belongings. "I have to go check on them."

"Tell me you're at least going to eat first. Force knows how long we've been without real food. And...and can you smell that?" Atton deeply inhaled the comforting, flavorful scent coming from where Pexelia was cooking. "How can anyone sane resist that?"

"You forget. To be in this job, I can't be sane at all." Demi smiled wistfully. She looked around for her belongings. "Stay here. I'll be fast."

"What are you talking about? You're going, I'm coming with."

"No." Demi hesitated, as though she had heard something far off, then shook her head and continued. "I just...I have this instinct. I...need you to stay here. Just in case. Something feels like its gone terribly wrong."

"Well, now, I really can't resist that offer, can I?" Atton shrugged on his Jedi robes. "Like I said, where you go, I go."

"Atton," Demi said quietly, but firmly, and nodded at Pexelia. "Stay here. For her. It's not safe at this time, and we can't both leave, not after all she's done for us. She's expecting us to stay, so at least one of us should. And...protect her. Just in case."

"Okay...New proposal. I say you stay, and I go."

"Atton..." Demi began.

"Alright, alright, I know that tone. I'm backing off. It's just the ship. It's not that far. But if you're planning on doing something crazy, just promise me this."

"What?" Demi looked up at him. His eyes looked somber.

He was silent for a moment, pulling on his fingerless gloves. He closed and re-opened his fist a couple of times, as though reveling in that familiar feel, then he said, "Don't make me have to end up like Carth."

"What?" Demi repeated, although this time it came out as a whisper.

Atton locked eyes with her. "You know, waiting. Feeling all usefulness gone as he waits, just for her. It's all he thinks about. Feeling time just draw on and on, things getting older. I'm not trying to...I mean, I know you have things that need doing. Galaxy saving, and all. Just...you know what I mean. Be careful."

Demi looked at him for a moment, then came close to him and kissed him softly. "I'll be back." She headed to the sliding door.

"This century or the next?" Atton called after her.

"Depends on the traffic," Demi said softly, eyes twinkling in humor. Then, hair tied up, Jedi robes back on, and lightsaber on belt, she was gone. 

She activated her Stealth Field Generator, and strode with a purpose towards the Ebon Hawk. In just a few moments, she was there. And then, the feeling of forboding she had felt a mile away was before her, the evidence all around.

She stood in the main hold, near Brianna's still body, as well as near HK and T3, who were not responding to her at all. They stood still and rigid and straight up, but it was as though they were frozen, their programs shut down, and Demi knew there was nothing she could do, for her skill with the hydrospanner was practically non-existent. Leo was nowhere to be found.

She stood there for a moment, taking it all in with shock, counting her mistakes, wondering if she had expected this and if she had, whether she could have done something to prevent it. However, she quickly got back to work. On the table where she had left it, was her own datapad to Leo. ‘Gone to find Atton. Will be back. Take care. Demi.' She didn't know when she had written it that it would take her so long to ‘be back.' Now look at what happened as a cause of that.

And then, she found something that had not been there before. A thin slip of white paper lay on the ground. Hesitantly, Demi looked down at it. On it were printed words:

VC Lab#2301 lvl: -20. Care.: Dr. Freya. Spec.: visanherb. Use: #A264 (search: med.)

Demi frowned, and read it over and over until she had memorized it. Then, she left it where she had found it.

Near the ramp, she found a small listening device pinned on the ceiling, but didn't touch it or disable it, because if she did, they'd know she had been there. She wondered how many there were. She had already counted seven others.

Then, Stealth Field Generator still on, she hurried back to the the Healing Center.

::.Later.::

The dinner (or, really, small feast) was over now, but Demi treasured every moment of it. Warm food going around, cheery talk, everything felt normal and happy for once. It felt like they were a family, and they did this every night.

However, she had not forgotten about Leo, the droids, the ship, or Renee. An intuitive feeling hit her that tonight they would stay here, for their ship was no longer safe, not now that it was under the watch of Vincentii. Atton had asked how things were aboard the ship; if White-Haired Boy was alright. Demi had answered readily, hated herself for lying.

Once everyone was asleep, there were things she had to do. She needed to take action. And she knew who to ask.

Atton was asleep nearby, content, tired, and for the moment, unworried. She would let him stay like that. He had a right to be, and for now, she had things that needed doing without him. Earlier she had been there, beside him, and he had turned to look at her, before running his knuckles tenderly up and down her cheek. His eyes were so deep and full of some strong emotion, and it enveloped her like a blanket. Demi noticed small scars near his eyes she hadn't noticed before, but then she closed her eyes and focused fully on the feeling. When he lowered himself upon her and kissed her deeply, Demi let down her hair and for a few moments, let her senses run free, because that was how it was supposed to be. But then, slowly, she disentangled herself from him.

"Maybe someday when the galaxy's not in danger from murderesses and big strange companies and planets with an endless supply of magical, immortal water and evil Sith planning to use it." Demi smiled. "Okay?"

With a loud sigh, Atton lay back down on the bed, hands supporting his head. "Oh, yeah. Sure. That'll be soon."

Demi had laughed, had been happy.

There had been quiet for a few moments, and just as Demi rolled over to turn off the only light left on, he had said, "Promise me you'll tell me about it someday."

"What?"

"Malachor." He stared up at the ceiling as he said this, and didn't blink. "I want to share the burden, take some of the weight, whatever you want to call it. You know, sometimes I get the feeling, because of all we've been through, we're really just these old people, trapped in young bodies. And we're just...We're tired. You know?"

"Yeah," Demi whispered. "I get that. I do."

He knew she did. And then, she turned off the light.

She waited until his heart beneath her ear slowed into a repetitive, consistent beat. Knowing he was now asleep, she got up lightly, and disappeared into the darker parts of the Healing Center, about as deep as the kolto shower. There, she picked up a comm on the nearby counter and was about to transmit a call, when it blinked red all by itself. Someone was calling her. Alarmed, she hesitated before picking it up.

When she pressed the button, out spilled a hologram in the form of Bao-Dur that suspended in the air.

"Hello, General," he said, casual as you please.

At hearing Bao-Dur's voice, Demi felt like she wasn't that far from home and her other friends after all. "Bao!" she exclaimed, a smile forming on her face of its own will.

Pexelia, somewhere a few beds off, snored lightly in her sleep.

Lowering her voice, Demi whispered, "Why are you calling? How did you know where I was?"

"A tracking device of sorts. General, a lot's going on back here."

"A lot..." she echoed. "What do mean by that?"

"Forgive me, but there's a favor Bastila is asking of you. More like an obligation, honestly. In the communications room on the Hawk we need you to-"

"Bao, I can't. It-It's complicated. A lot's going on here, too. I can't go to the ship right now. I'm sorry."

"Is there something I should know, General?"

Demi could hear the unasked question: ‘What are you doing in Nar Shaddaa, anyway?' but she didn't have time to explain. "It's just...It's not safe now. The Hawk's under surveillance. I'd rather not risk anything. At least, not until I finish something. Bao-Dur, are you listening to me?"

"Always, General."

"I need to talk to Griff Vao. I'm in a bit of a hurry. Is he there?"

"Griff?" the Iridonian repeated, and he could hear the skepticism in his voice. "Yes, he's here. I'll try to get a hold of him."

"Thank you, Bao-Dur." The tech's holographic form wavered, and, a bit desperately, Demi added, "Bao?"

He returned.

"Yes, General?"

Demi closed her eyes, remembering everything they had gone through together, during the Wars and after. He had been her anchor, and always had been. "You know you're my best friend, right?" was what she said.

Demi could hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, General."

Although she wasn't sure why, tears started forming in her eyes. "Thank you, Bao-Dur." That means a lot to me.

"I'll get Griff for you," he replied. "Good-bye, General."

He disappeared.

Demi exhaled as though a great burden had been taken off her chest just by talking to him, and waited for the moment when she would hear another voice.

"This is Griff," a nonchalant voice said, and a twi'lek appeared as a small hologram before her.

"Hey, I'm sorry for calling so late, but..."

"Nah, it's fine. I couldn't sleep anyway. What's up?"

"My name's Demi. I don't know if you know me, but Atton told me-"

"Are you kiddin'? Demia Thress, right? You're famous around here. Everything that's happening over here is because of you."

Demi hesitated. "What exactly is going on over there?"

There was a pause. "Uh...heh heh. Just a figure of speech. So Bao said you needed me?"

"Yes..." Demi was suspicious, but decided more important things came first. "I have a question, as well as a favor to ask. Have you heard of something called ‘visanherb' before?"

"Oh. Huh. Let me think." There was a brief intercession as Griff hummed a melody to himself, deep in thought. Feeling as though she was on hold and somebody was playing horrible ‘waiting' music, she waited patiently, until Griff exclaimed, "Ah-hah! Thought it sounded familiar. It's a type of medicine, I believe. All liquid. Discovered not too long ago, actually. I shipped a few crates to Yashel, this herb guy in Nar Shaddaa when I was working for V-" Nervously, he quickly double-tracked. "Actually, I wasn't working. Furthermore, it wasn't me. In fact, this is a friend's story who did a favor for some random person once and she doesn't recall this. At all."

"Don't worry, Griff. I know. Vincentii right? But do they own this, this ‘visanherb'? And what exactly does visanherb do?" There was a pause, as Demi listened to his response. "No, I won't tell anyone you told me."

Demi listened intently to his next answer. "Right. Thank you very much, Griff. You've helped a lot."

"No prob. So...is that all? What was the other thing you needed?"

"Oh, right." She took a deep breath and checked to see if Atton was really asleep. This was one thing she had to do without him. And so, she began her request.

"I need a favor. Favors, actually. And I need them fast."

::.Later, in Nar Shaddaa.::

Renee was left to clean up the blood and the glass from the chandelier and everything else that had been left behind after the fight. But the more and more that she scraped away at the blood, the more impossible it seemed for it to go away, until finally she gave a cry of frustration and threw her towel at the wall.

She was going to move. They had seen this place, knew where she was, now she needed to leave and never come back. She didn't have much to pack, honestly, and it took less than a minute to shove everything she owned into a decrepit bag. It took less than a minute, and so she dwindled, looking around at this room that had definitely not been a home, and yet, until the day before, had been her own. And that in itself was a miracle.

Briefly, she closed her eyes and rested her head against one of the walls, breathing deeply. I wish... she began, then stopped herself.

When there came two knocks on her door, she immediately looked up in alarm. Nobody except two people, and maybe Voren, knew she was here. It couldn't be...could it? She looked around. There was only one exit. Whoever was behind the door had stopped knocking; now, was just waiting. The idiot didn't know the lock had already been broken.

She felt like telling whoever it was to stuff their head down an ion engine and get run over by a horde of kath hounds while they were at it, but unfortunately, the silence at the door spread out like a vast ocean and curiosity was starting to get the better of her-perhaps more than persistant, insistant knocking would have.

There was only one thing to do.

::.The other side of the door.::

The door opened, and Renee filled the frame. Her brown hair fell in long, messy curls and her emerald eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Demi looked behind her and through the door to see the place practically empty, except for a bag. So she was leaving.

Demi had expected a jesting taunt, but what she got surprised her.

"I don't have time for this," was what Renee said. Her voice, her face, everything was unfriendly, cold, and hateful. "Or you. Or Jaq. Or anyone. If one beating isn't enough for you, that's your glitch. Me, I'm good. In fact, I'm great." She lowered her face to Demi's, so they were only a few inches apart. "You want to know why? Because I've finally figured out what will make me happy."

"I'm not going to ask," Demi said, everything about her still, her eyes steely and sharp.

"Oh, sweetie." Renee tossed her head back and laughed. "You won't have to. I can show you!"

Demi had no time to react. In one vigorous thrust, Renee plunged a dagger she had been holding right into Demi's stomach. Slowly, Demi looked up at Renee's unforgiving eyes, clutching the handle, as blood poured out of her middle, and out of her mouth as well. She staggered backward and Renee stepped forward, her silhouette impending further down the wall, closing the distance, before viciously twisting the dagger and ripping it out. A cry fell from Demi's lips as she crumpled in a heap to the floor.

"Learn to block, darling," Renee told her. "It helps. It really does."

Demi was stronger than most, and so she lay there, breathing hard, for a long time, as Renee stood over her, not saying anything, just watching.

"You still don't understand, do you?" Demi whispered suddenly, wincing with the effort. "Why I came back. Why any of us..." She shuddered, gasped hard, as a trickle of blood escaped her mouth... "come back."

"You're down on the floor and dying, and you're still cryptic like a Jedi." Renee smiled, twistedly, but almost fondly. "You'll never change, Demi."

Demi just laughed hoarsely, inhumanely, as the laughs dissolved into shivers, and she finally remained still.

Renee stood frozen for a moment, before leaning over and checking Demi's pulse, her heartbeat, her breathing. There were no Jedi tricks Demi could perform this time. A minute passed, and Renee knew. She stood above her conquest with no triumphance, just solemnity.

Demia Thress was dead.

"What a waste," Renee muttered, kicking at Demi's fallen body, re-sheathing her dagger, and lighting a cigarra out of habit. "Geez-us. What was she thinking?"

She saved one look for Demi's face; her eyes were still open, the piercing green and blue staring through Renee as though with amazing clarity. A smile lingered on her face. Renee shut the eyes none too gently, and dragged Demi by the ankles back into the room. Now what to do? Renee was used to killing and leaving, leaving with the feeling that somebody was going to chase her and hunt her down, but she'd be able to take it when it came. Now, she could leave, but she wasn't sure she'd like to leave any evidence behind. She looked around the room toward the plasteel container, and then at the lighter in her own hand. Then, she knew what she would have to do.

She didn't take any time to analyze her own feelings; if she felt relieved or uneasy or restless or fine about the fact she was going to see Demi's body, burn, burn, burn. And the fact that Jaq couldn't do anything to stop it. She wondered if he would try. If he even knew Demi had come to see her.

"What a liar you are, Renee."

At this, Renee immediately stood back up, and stood there, wavering, frozen for a moment. The voice was coming from out into the hall; the door hadn't been closed yet.

"You said that if you saw me again, you'd put the nearest sharp object straight into my heart."

As though in a dream, Renee walked towards the door, with one hand on it, ready to slam it shut if need be, to keep the ghosts out.

Demi stood at the end of the long hall, outside in the night air, perfectly still, and perfectly unharmed. "Didn't you." She spoke with a finality in her tone.

The cigarra suddenly felt very dry on Renee's lips. She dropped it to the ground and smudged it out. She looked at the alive Demi down the hall, and the very dead Demi behind her on the floor.

"Sure the basic idea was accomplished, but..." Demi gave a wry smile. "You still....missed. I'm a bit disappointed in you, Renee. Didn't you think that killing me would be just a little bit harder?"

She disappeared around the corner just as realization hit Renee, and just as a dagger came flying down the long hall towards where Demi just had been, spiralling over and over in the air, before the blade hit the wall to the right of the doorway, and remained there.

Renee stood there, breathing hard for a few seconds, before sprinting down the corridor, pulling the dagger back out of the wall, and disappearing after Demi in the night.

Demi ran, thoughts running through her head like lightning, planning the thing out and wondering, at the same moment, if she wasn't completely insane. She could hear Renee coming after her. She ran with long strides, gaining ground, while Demi had faster, shorter steps. But Renee was still fast. Very fast.

Demi suddenly made a sharp turn left and hurled herself over a gate, landing on the other side and cushioning her fall with a roll onto her shoulder, before getting up on her two feet. There were a set of stairs which she took three at a time, feeling a sense of urgency with every step she took. So she had a plan formulated out. It wasn't the best plan ever by a longshot, but there was a certain feeling about it. Instinct. Necessity. Hopefully none of it would go wrong.

"Demi!" screamed Renee after her, her cry piercing the air like a sharp blade. Her steps quickened, the cold and chill of the night meant nothing to her. She felt nothing...Except for an overpowering desire to finally finish what needed to be done. What had to be done. Demi was the solution. With her dead, she would be free.

In no time at all she had scaled the fence and so the chase began. Demi's eyes, so focused, searched out the ideal place. She kicked down a wooden door, one that belonged to a shop that was obviously closed, and found herself in a room of machinery. Bronze and steel machines chugged and swished and billowed out steam, all looking strangely alien and unlike anything she had ever seen before. Blades chopped through the air before landing on conveyor belts, and instead of dicing, sharpened many other, smaller blades. Blades that you would definitely not find in a regular kitchen.

Blades meant to kill.

"Like it?" Renee grinned, coming up behind her. "One of Voren's many scattered workshops, ones he bought from the original owners. The owners-or former owners, rather-they still work here. And all their hard work lands in Voren's pocket in the form of credits. You gotta hand it to the guy. How persuasive is he, it makes you wonder, that he can persuade people to willingly give up their life business and profits to him, and keep it a secret? Or maybe they're just...not the sharpest dagger in the bunch."

She put her hand down on one of the conveyer belts and lifted one of them up, inspecting it as it glinted under the moonlight from one of the high windows. Then her gaze traveled to Demi, who appeared unarmed, versus Renee who had two daggers, and more hidden away.

"Yes, that's probably it," Renee said softly, running a finger almost caressingly down the dull side of the weapon. "Is that what you think of me, Demi? That you've somehow got me twisted up in this puzzle, this scheme of yours, and that I won't be able to figure out how to get out? Well, try this on for size. Exactly thirty-two minutes and eight seconds ago, the invisible sensor was triggered aboard your ship. An intruder, a ship stealer? No, Demi, I don't think so. And I'm not done. Exactly twenty-seven minutes and four seconds ago, a call was transmitted from Coruscant to Pexelia's Healing Center, and exactly two seconds later, somebody picked it up. Then you come to my place exactly three minutes ago, make a little friendly visit, and about a minute after, I kill you. And then, a minute later, you come back to life."

Renee's fingers tightened around the dagger. "Now you may have gotten dizzy with all the numbers I just threw at you, but working around Vincentii as long as I have, it doesn't take much to put all the pieces together. I put my blade right clean through you, Demi; I don't need to persuade you that I made damn sure of it. Now, there's only one way you could reappear in an entirely separate but identical body, completely alive. Got yourself an escaped employee named Griff Vao helping you clone yourself?" Renee chuckled, as though she didn't need an answer. "I wonder how you managed that, in so little a time as twenty-seven minutes and six seconds, with him not having any equipment let alone you, there. Even with a stray strand of your hair left behind acting as the DNA, a kolto tank for the procedure, and Griff's smarts, I don't think it's all that possible."

"There's many things you'll be wondering about me by the time I'm through," Demi said, her face revealing no expression.

"By the time you're through?" Renee laughed, tilting her head back. "Boy, Demi. That's a tad bit dark for you. I must be a bad influence."

Demi unfalteringly did not move her gaze from Renee. "I have questions."

"Well, welcome to the galaxy, Demi. But I'm guessing you're going for something a little bit different from, ‘What is the meaning of life?'"

"Brianna," Demi said, a finality in her tone. "I know how to heal her and I'm asking you to help me."

At this, Renee let out loud explosive laughs, yet they were sinister and cold behind their comic exterior. "Oh, yes," Renee said in between tears. "My mortal enemy, let us join ranks and storm the fort! It doesn't matter that we've both tried to kill each other.-And that, theoretically speaking, I just succeeded. Let's just help each other anyway! Because of the fun!" The laughs ceased. "No, Demi," Renee said in a low voice. "You go alone."

"You dropped the paper about Brianna's medicine for a reason," persisted Demi. "That means you must want me to help us, even if you can't do it directly."

"Who says I left it there on purpose?" Renee said testily.

"Why would you be carrying that paper around otherwise?"

"Who said it was me who dropped it?" Renee's lip curled upwards into a smirk. "For your information, Demi, it's my job to know all about you, down to the eensiest detail about somebody's cure. My targets are that Echani woman, Jaq, White-Haired Boy, and you. Now, while you were so busy chasing after me, you left a certain scoundrel all by his lonesome. That means, Brianna-gone. Leo-gone. And Jaq-" Her voice trailed off, and a malevolent smile came across her face. "Taken."

"No," Demi whispered in horror.

Renee's hand crept behind her towards a button on a console.

"Always refusing to take what's fact as fact, always trusting, refusing to notice the trap she drew has trapped herself. That's what I've been trying to tell you all this time, haven't I? So you can't say I didn't warn you."

And she pressed the button.

Instantly, as the machines were programmed to do in case of a security emergency, the blades stopped their chopping and sharpening and drilling, and in one simultaneous motion, lifted upwards and pointed towards the sky. There was a pause, a brief intercession hung in suspense and anticipation. And then, they started spinning, faster and faster, all together, and Demi had barely rolled out of the way when the blade nearest her came close to her and made a whizzing motion that would have cut her in half had she not moved.

"Keep running," Renee whispered, and moved out of the way and into the shadows.

Demi slowly circled around, on guard. She was so bad with machines; she wouldn't be able to figure out how to switch the contraptions off for the life of her...Which would probably end up being the case if she didn't hurry.

She moved her eyes ever so slightly above her. An exit. There were glass windows high up there, and if she was able to get that high, she might be able to kick it open somehow...The blades had resumed spinning...She had to duck, roll, and skid over numerous numbers of them, although they were just a flash of silver as they neared her; and she didn't want to linger to find out more.

She jumped over a low, whizzing blade and caught the top part of the conveyer belt, which lifted her higher up as well. Then, blades came in front of her eyes, all in a row, and she had to alternate from her left hand to her right, like the pendulum of a clock, swinging precariously, to avoid getting hit.

Where was Renee? She had undoubtedly found an easier way out. But this whole trap was just meant to weaken Demi, not kill her. Renee would want to do that herself.

As the conveyer belt brought her nearer and nearer to the window, Demi took a deep breath, gathered momentum by one last swing, and flung forward, right foot first, and the glass shattered into a thousand of pieces.

Demi rolled over and over, unable to stop herself. She was on the rooftops now, over Nar Shaddaa. There was a slight breeze that chilled the air and ruslted her robes around her. She breathed hard, and saw herself coming near the edge of the shingled roof...No, she thought, but no grasping did any good. The end came nearer and so did the lights of Nar Shaddaa...She let half of her body fall so that her hands could grasp tightly the edge of the roof. She knew she couldn't hold on for long.

"Careful," Renee said, nearing the edge as well. "You fall, and you'll be falling for a long, long time." She chuckled. "Well, at least you'll be dead before you hit the ground. That's what they say anyway. How about we find out?"

But before Renee could come any further, Demi lifted herself up using her arms even as they burned, and flipped her legs over so she landed above Renee on the roof. This whole thing was probably a bad decision. The rooftops were Renee's territory, the part of Nar Shaddaa she knew best. But it was too late now for regrets. They both knew that.

As she turned back to look at Renee, her blonde hair getting into her electric eyes, a blade came out of nowhere and Demi had to parry it quickly. She grabbed the wrist holding it, and loosened the grip on the dagger, so that it fell down through the broken glass window and into the workshop below. Renee then brought her hands up and controlled Demi's elbow, pushing her away and twisting it as Demi gritted her teeth to block out a cry of pain, before delivering a swift sidekick to Demi. However, Demi was able to maneuver out by twisting out herself, as though they were in a dance, and then pushed Renee on the shoulder so she rolled down hard with a snap. Then Demi stepped away and brought her hands up into a defensive position. It had only taken less than three seconds.

"You take my weapon but refuse to take the upper hand?" Renee spat, coming closer. "What is this, the training zone? It's me, and you, Demi, and you don't want to hold anything back." She grinned. "I guarantee you I won't be."

She made the first move in a lightning fast punch which Demi dodged, and then a round-house kick that reached as high as Demi's neck. Demi ducked it, and moved away.

"Running away again?" Renee taunted, gaining in on her. "Didn't we already finish that part? No matter." Her eyes glimmered in frustration, and narrowed. She needed this chase. She needed this kill. There had been so many easy, unworthy ones that were barely worth the effort. Lena, Larken, Voren's Sith that had gotten in her way...But this...If she accomplished this, for real this time...She didn't think about it. She wasn't there yet. But she would soon be.

They both ran up to each other and reached the very top peak of the roof, so narrow that footing was almost impossible and balance hard to regain. They came up close and it was hand to hand fighting; this time Demi responded, but only for blocking, never hitting. Renee threw kick after kick; scorpion, round-house, crescent, all in a row one after another, but Demi was fast and so they never reached her. The way she was fighting seemed cut off, so focused, almost automatic. That wasn't the way Renee wanted it. She wanted to hear Demi's heart pounding insanely mad in fear, hear her gasp for air as she attempted to get out of Renee's reach, wanted her to put everything she had into this fight...But Demi wasn't doing either or any. She wasn't backing away, but she wasn't fighting either.

"Come on!" Renee said through gritted teeth, almost screaming. "Fight me! Fight me like the Jedi I know you are! Come on!"

Renee's knee came bounding up toward's Demi's face; she knocked it aside, blocked Renee's elbow by controlling it and pushing it away, and rolled beneath the outstretched arm so the fist missed her by inches.

They skidded back down the roof, and met each other again in a whirl of fists and brief flashes of fiery eyes from the other. Renee did everything she could; a sweeping kick, grabbed Demi's wrists, tried to knee her again to the stomach, but Demi twisted out her wrists the other way so they got free, blocked the knee that morphed into a kick, and moved to the other side of the roof. They mirrored each other's positions now, and Demi stood calmly, evenly, almost serenely on the other side.

"Do something!" Renee yelled at the person who she could not hurt, at the person who refused to fight, at the person who was frustrating her to her wit's end. Didn't she understand? A thousand punches, a thousand kicks, a thousand put downs, a thousand past mistakes...In the end it was all the same. Why not add another one? Add insult to injury?

"Hurt me!" Renee yelled. "Give it to me, Demi! Why won't you?"

A dagger was unsheathed, and Renee was suddenly only a few inches from Demi. The dagger sliced through the air, and Demi, in a moment that involved completely no thinking, bent backwards to avoid it. Renee, ferocious and boiling in anger, smashed the the top of her forehead against the bridge of Demi's nose when she resurfaced.

Demi reeled backwards and before she had even fallen, Renee took the advantage and thrust her hand forward and closed upon Demi's throat. The dagger was held high in the other hand, the point glittering dangerously. For a moment, on the rooftops above Nar Shaddaa, the two figures both stood, afraid to breath, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"I've already died, Renee," Demi whispered. "You've already killed me. Do you really want to kill me again? Do you hate me that much?" Renee did not answer; the moment drew out. "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do, Renee. Perhaps, some days, I want to die just like you always wish you would. Perhaps you've saved me from having to make a tough decision."

"Yeah, you've really got it hard, don't you, Demi?" Renee said, gritting her teeth and tightening her grip. "Beautiful, innocent, kind, hard-working, strong, wise, loved Jedi General Demia Thress. You may have killed people, but everyone's so willing to overlook that fact, aren't they? You're so perfect, you're so clean. Forget blowing up millions of your own free choice, why don't we just award you with a heroic medal, anyway?"

"I'm overlooking your choices now," Demi replied softly, placing her hands over the one Renee had around her neck. She could get out of it if she wanted to, but this was the only way Renee would understand. A bit of blood trickled down and reached her upper lip. "They were yours, and yet they weren't. I don't blame you for anything, Renee. It wasn't your fault."

"You don't know anything," Renee snarled. Somewhere far off, they heard sirens sounding in Nar Shaddaa. "I know what I am. I accept it. But you refuse to believe in anything that isn't just and right and holy, because that's just not how you want the world to be. Well, that's honorable, Dem. Or just plain naïve. Either way, I see myself for the way I am. And I see the world for the way it is."

"The world," Demi said, gesturing around at the glittering lights below them, and the smoke in the air, "is not all like this, Renee! You've been around, I know that, but if you just opened your eyes, you'd see."

"Well, I don't know of this world you're talking about!" Renee yelled. "You think that if I just open my eyes I little bit wider, that would really change the way that it viewed me? The way that Jaq thought of me? That's Jedi talk being fed to you there. And oh, by the way, I see," Renee said, her emerald eyes darkening like the eye of a tornado, rain on the brink of a storm. "I see everything real clear. Clearer than you think."

Her thumb tightened right over Demi's pulse; Renee felt her stiffen, and then felt Demi lose tenseness, as though she had given herself up to a certain undeniable fate. Renee herself staggered back, although she did not let go, and felt her own breathing stop, as though in surprise.

"Too late," Demi whispered, gasping, and Renee held her gaze for one halting moment. Time seemed to stop. Then, Renee looked down to see a double-bladed silver lightsaber ignited, sticking through the middle of the both of them. Unreal.

"What?" Renee gasped, her hand still clenched around Demi's neck.

Demi turned off the lightsaber, and both fell down upon the roof, breathing hard. Blood fell like a liquid, red carpet about them. It was sickening.

"W-Why?" Renee managed to say. Weaker and weaker...She couldn't believe it was finally over now. "I mean, why you as well?"

Demi was quiet for a while, finding it hard to think, each breath laborious to her. "I cared enough." Then, she erupted into violent coughs. "Perhaps you may find it funny, Renee, to know that sometimes, I feel the same way as you about some things. The same...emptiness."

Renee suddenly laughed, harshly. How ironic this all was. Too late, indeed. And so she laughed. Over and over, louder and louder, until it turned into groans and groans of pain. The stars above began to diminish. It was time to tell the truth. "I never wanted you to die, Demi," Renee whispered. "I just...I wanted you to feel my pain."

"I feel it," Demi said, closing her eyes. "I feel it, Renee."

"I wish that-"

But Renee never was able to finish, because her eyes caught on something. Stars. Her emerald eyes fixated on them, stars she had seen every night yet had never fully looked at before. How they twinkled and shone, even through the dark and the pollution of this planet. How beautiful.

Her breathing finally slowed. Then it stopped. But Demi wouldn't have been able to hear her anyway, for her eyes were already closed, and her world completely dark. For good.

Far away, in Nausuma, a man was laughing.

"Demi?" Griff's voice sounded from a comm that lay discarded on the floor. "Dem? Hell-o-oh? What favors did you want? Demi? Favors are my favorite things! I can do favors. Especially if they involve credits. To me."

Silence.

"Damn. Connection lost," he muttered to himself.

"Griff," Demi said suddenly, waking up, and snatched up the comm.

"Ah-hah-hah!" Griff exclaimed. "The princess awakes. What the hell happened back there?"

Demi looked around. She was back in Pexelia's healing place. How long had she been there? Had she even ever left? "How long was I gone?"

"'Bout a minute. Why?"

Demi, wordlessly, reached down to her stomach, which was, luckily, not impaled and never felt like it had ever been so. There was no blood. No pain. No...anything.

"Demi?" Griff repeated. "You gotta stop doing this to me. Are you there? So what happened?"

I don't know, Demi thought in wonder. Then, remembering he was still on the line, said, "Sorry. It's, uh, been a real long day. I think I just...um...dozed off." Which, it appeared, must have been true.

"Oh," Griff said glumly, unimpressed. He sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, people do tend to do that in my presence."

"Sorry," Demi said quickly. "I'm just..."

"Tired, I know. So, hey, what about that favor you wanted? Or, as you said, fave-ors?"

"I..." she swallowed, looked around. It was still dark. Apparently, none of what she thought had happened had actually happened. Had it all been a dream?

Then, she remembered what Renee had said. Atton. Panic once again seized her heart.

"I need to be somewhere," she mumbled to Griff, and hung up.

Down the long hall she ran, to the bed where his shape had been not too long ago. Or had it been long ago? She didn't know. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, in expectation, hoping the worst had not occurred...

As she neared the exit, she got her answer.

The Renee in the dream had not lied.

Atton was gone.

::.Later.::

Down the narrow hall, she drifted, among the many pipes and vents, invisible this time, with the help of the Stealth Field Generator. On the door she knocked, one, two, three times. No answer. She knocked again. Nothing. Finally, she tried the doorknob. She had remembered it was open, but had hoped someone would open it of their own accord.

The room was empty.

::.Renee's point of view.::

I left before you arrived. I never told you, and you'll never know, but I'll tell you now, even though you can't possibly hear me. And if you can, then, girl, you've got to lower your Jedi radar. It's getting on my nerves.

Anyway.

I don't know what happened. If it was a dream, if it was real. Maybe a bit of both. I can still feel myself inside that dream. Everything in that dream, I would have done. I would have killed you the first time, I'm sure of it. But in case you were wondering, yes, I did have the dream too. Whatever it was, anyway.

Thoughts whirl in my head. How I gave myself, my secret away. Weakness. That's what it was. And you, of course, would never have been so stupid as to kill yourself. Me, maybe, but definitely not you.

Or perhaps you would have spared me too. You already have once. I would have left myself to rot, honestly. Both times. I don't get you. But for that brief moment, lying there on that godforsaken roof, I thought for a moment that I did. 

But you should know...I never wanted you to die, Demi. I just...I wanted you to feel my pain. I wish that all of this had never happened. All I ever wanted...It was too much. I see that now. I don't like how things have to change. Why is everything always moving, never settling? Things people felt a few seconds ago, now gone. Emotions mean nothing, the truth doesn't mean anything, in the end, at all. Nobody can ever make up their minds. Then you come in, making a hell of things, and I'm never sure if you're trying to make things more simple or more complicated. Why am I always caught in the middle, so easily persuaded? Why?

The lights in this city are cold, no matter how brightly they may shine. And everything I touch, it withers and dies. It's not fair. It's not fair.

I just thought you should know. My side. Now you never will.

I wonder who'll keep your ass in line now. Try not to miss me, sweetums.

-Renee.

A/N: Whew. There we go. I'm sorry if it seems rather rushed; I did my best to edit it just enough so that it wouldn't take me another, uh, four months. I'm sincerely sorry for taking so long; I've just started my first year of high school so things are rather hectic. Anyway, all my thanks to those who are still keeping up with the story and letting me know what they think. :) You are the best. Also, all my sympathies and thanks to Jiara for practically breaking her back on this chapter, since it's so freaking long, like a novella. ;) Next chapter: Expect to see Demi with pink hair. And maybe the Candy-Man if I can fit him in. Cheers,

-tWiNkLeT