Truth

Note: This is actually an overdue sequel to another story entitled “Lies” But maybe it can be read without it. The basic premise of “Lies” is outlined in the first two paragraphs. I’m new to using the third person point of view since I am used to writing in first person.

Sometimes, lies come true. When they do, they shock you. This is one example.

Once, Atton told Aranel that he loved her. He said it as a joke and a lie, but he knew that it was true. Somehow, she knew that it was true as well, but she pretended to be fooled by his lie. That was her lie.

Here is another.

In one of the pursuits of the second Ebon Hawk crew in Nar Shaddaa Refugee Sector, they had come to rescue a little girl named Adana from the Exchange. Adana was small, frail and innocent. Adana reminded her of herself, even though the girl’s blonde hair, big blue round eyes, and distracting habit of biting her nails too much, were far different from her cropped dark hair, light brown skin and small almond shaped eyes. Even as an adult, her petite form would not make one think that she was the engineer of a disaster called Malachor V. In some ways, even in her late twenties, Aranel still behaved like a girl.

One afternoon, as Atton and Bao-dur went away to get an ID for the ship, she played with Adana in the huge metal container that was the home that she shared with several other refugees. She showed her how to move objects with the Force. She lifted six plasteel cylinders at the same time. Of course, Adana couldn’t do it since she wasn’t Force sensitive.

“Show me another neat trick!” Adana coaxed with hands clapped together as Aranel gently put the plasteel containers down.

“Like what?” Aranel’s small lips widened in a smile. Once, she too had Adana’s enthusiasm. Most of the time, she did not like showing off. This was an exception.

“Like…how to tell the future. I have heard that you can do it. Tell me who’s going to be my first love!”

She laughed and blinked, being reminded of how children really love rushing things. “Predicting the future isn’t that easy. Besides, you are too young to fall in love.” She playfully tapped a finger on her small nose.

Adana glared, “I AM NOT! I’m nine years old.”

Aranel laughed one more. She took both the child’s hands in hers. “It will just come to you if the Force wants to let you know about something.”

“Please?” Adana flashed a freckled sugary smile.

She scratched her chin. There may be no harm in appeasing her a little, she thought. “Alright, but this is not something that I’ve learned from the Jedi academy. Someone taught me this when I was a little girl on Tatooine.”

Adana sat on the floor with her and listened intently, placing her hands on her lap.

“My father told me that if you think of someone, count to five and then you see that person, you will fall in love with that person.”

“But does it work?” Adana asked in a whisper, with engrossed eyes.

“Yes it does. Someone told it to me before as a false bedtime story, but it worked. I have tried it. But beware: you may not like what you see.” As she said those words, her dark eyes lowered to the floor sadly, like the way some people do when a bitter memory flashes.

“Why not?” Adana tried to search her eyes, inching closer.

 Aranel flashed her a tight sad smile. “Because it is hard to like someone that you are not meant to like. You might end up losing him.”

“Is the person you love lost?”

“Perhaps you could think of it that way.” She remembered Revan. Her father told her the fountain story as a little girl. As a young superstitious girl in a Jedi academy, she decided to try it, thinking of one of the Jedi masters that she absolutely hated. He appeared unexpectedly. She had come to love him. Then he left, coming back as a different person. She had to let him go, although she couldn’t do it fully. Now she has to look for him and follow hi footsteps to save the galaxy.

Adana interrupted her thoughts as she tugged the her robe’s loose oversized sleeve. “What if you try it? The person you love might appear.”

Aranel chuckled. “It won’t work…” She was contradicting herself but she knew that it was impossible.

“Pleeeease?”

She did not believe in magic like she used to but was weak to pleas like those. “Okay. But I’m telling you: it won’t work.”

She closed her eyes. She tried to think of Revan as she started counting.

One.

The truth was, she couldn’t think of Revan.

Two.

She was thinking of Atton.

Three.

What secret was he holding that he couldn’t tell her? Why couldn’t he stop lying?

Four.

He puzzled her.

Five.

There was the sound of a metal door opening. She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred at first, but as the mist cleared from her eyes, what she saw shocked her: Atton stood before her with his arms crossed and with a silly puzzled expression. Atton saw her startled face. “You okay? You look worse than a kinrath pup.”

She couldn’t answer him. She tried to keep her voice from shaking as she hurriedly said Adana: “It didn’t work. I have to go.” With that, she ran out the door. She would never tell anyone what happened, especially him.

Atton caught up with her as she exited the Refugee Sector. She ran so fast that she didn’t care if she would bump into Gamorrean slaver or not. He silently complimented himself as he always had his blaster with him in case something nasty happens. That was not unusual especially when he is with her. But that moment was different: she ran as if she was being shot at. The next thing he knew, she was looked at the grey-green sky, as if she was praying to it. Her now pale face looked blank. He had to say something.

“Hey, give me some money.” He tried to say those words casually as he lightly tapped her shoulder and held out his gloved hand.

“I’m out of credits, and I need to get a drink.” He tried to say those words casually as he lightly tapped her shoulder with his gloved hand.

She remained stiff although the feel of his touch almost made her feel as if she was lightly electrocuted. “I’m not thirsty,” she said curtly, trying to hide her red face from him. “Let’s just go back to the Hawk.”

“You stingy Jedi are all the same.” His eyebrows furrowed. A minute later, he took fifty credits from his jacket pocket. “Alright! I’m buying.”

As she watched him slouch towards the Entertainment Module, she couldn’t help but think: Did he just lie to me for 20 credits? She sighed. Yes, that’s him. He always lies. But…why can’t I stop thinking of him? She reluctantly followed him.

Several minutes later, they drank silently on a quiet corner. He drank juma. She drank caffa. Typical, he thought as he cast a sideward glance on her. During his time with her, she never drank any alcoholic beverage. He paid for both anyway. After he finished his pint, he asked, “So…what’s up?”

“Nothing,” she lied, forcing a smile. “I just felt like running.”

He frowned. “Don’t give me that—”

“No, really. I just felt like it. I remembered something.” She said that firmly, as if she were telling the truth. He had always thought her to be a bad liar. Persistence, she thought. Say a lie more than once and the other may believe you, she thought, remembering the “lie” lessons she had with him.

He seemed to take the bait. He took another gulp of juma. “What?”

“I... forgot. I guess it’s not that important after all.”

“If you say so.” He turned to order another glass of juma. He drank it as he watched the dancers under the purple lights on the opposite side of the room.

It was her turn to ask, “So what are you thinking of right now? Those twilek dancers on those poles?”

“Nah.” He leaned next to her, looking at her almost honestly with his brown eyes. “I’m thinking of you.”

She had to let out a light laugh. “That’s a good one. You almost got me.” He’s lying, she thought.

Sometimes, she knew that they were true, like the time when he lied about loving her. Then she realized: his lies dazzle her. But he knew that his lies hurt him, as they hurt her. Her lies hurt her too. She remembered him telling her that she wouldn’t like his past. She wondered: if he would told her the truth, would it be as dazzling as his lies? Who is the real Atton? He finished his fifth glass.

At that moment, he was truly thinking of her. He knew that she was not alright, but if acting as if he believed her would make her feel better, he would do it. So he did.

The rain poured madly on the Nar Shaddaa docks. People avoided the rain but Aranel stayed under it. She removed her robe’s hood and looked up.

It was always dark on Nar Shaddaa but she noticed that that night was even darker. Growing up in a desert planet, she had always loved the rain. She had loved it even more because of someone else. Revan had once told her that he would always think of her when it rains. Wherever he was, she thought that maybe he had forgotten her. Maybe. Even with the people around her, she still could not forget him. It is because she had followed him. She killed for him. But the saddest realization of all was, even if she repented killing people, she may have to do it again. Since coming back to the galaxy, she has already caused several deaths.

She had reason to seek out the rain: she wanted to be alone. She had been avoiding Atton for the whole day. Yesterday, she met two twileks at the Refugee Sector. They told her that he was a murderer. She signed. From the start, she knew that he could never be trusted, but somehow, she had come to trust him—for reasons she could not explain. She found herself in him. She couldn’t even tell the rest of her story to him. She felt a presence with her under the rain. Although it was dark, it was somehow gentle. She knew who it was: the person who she had tried avoiding has found her once more.

She forced a smile to her lips as she spoke to a dark corner. “There is no point in hiding from you, is there?” she darkly asked a shadowy corner.

“You honestly call that hiding?” He emerged from the shadows and then leaned on the rail. “With your Jedi robes, and this public place, I’m not surprised if a bounty hunter shoots you from there.” He pointed to one roof edge. A human figure rolled back, knowing that she or he had been spotted. “She’s been following you for a week now.”

“I don’t care.” But even as she said those, her small eyes became sharp, determined. He could tell that she was ready to face anyone who would confront her. That was one of the things that he admired about her and at times, hated as it drove him crazy. She made him feel really stupid, making him want to attack those who attack her.

The rain stopped, but the Nar Shaddaa sky remained dark. She examined him under the shadows as she had always done. She had never seen him completely—who he really was. She feared what might come out into the light. But, looking from the shadows, she has realized that she has truly come to care for him and his playful brown eyes and scruffy appearance. She has chosen to do so, whoever he was or is. She has chosen to care about him utterly.

As she remained in deep thought, he couldn’t help but notice that something was bothering her. He could see her clearly under the white dock lamp: her small heart shaped face was radiant under the warm white light with an expression as if she had reached some sort of enlightenment.

She took a deep breath before she almost silently uttered, “I have to ask you about something…”

He knew that this was serious, as she always was. “Alright, what did you want to know?”

“I…met someone one who says he knows you.”

He forced out a chuckle. He tried to joke, lie as always to avoid the subject. “Yeah, that’s a surprise. Did he say I owed him credits too?”

“He said that you are not who you say you are,” she softly replied, as if she was the guilty party instead of him. “And that you showed up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War. Is that true?”

He growled at her, his playful face shifting into one that projected a lot of rage: “I’m as ‘Atton’ as Atton will ever be, and whoever your trusted informant is, he’s right. I did show up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War…along with a lot of other refugees.”

She backed since he threateningly moved closer and closer to her. Even as he did so, her expression remained blank. Patience, she told herself. She had known that that was the only way that she could guard herself from anger. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No, because you are asking about it—if I wanted to tell you anything, I would have come and told you. Anything else?” He said curtly.  

“I just wanted to know…” Her voice was cut short.

“Is this an interrogation? If so, you are terrible at it, especially for an ex-Jedi…or whatever you are.” He paused. He knew that this was coming but not that soon. “Why don’t you just crawl in my head and try to dig out whatever you’re looking for rather than asking about it.” Eventually, she will find out. He knew that. He knew that she was unlike other Jedi. Once, when she accidentally heard him in her mind, she apologized. That was something in her that he hated, and loved.

“Because I respect you,” her voice raised its volume a bit. “Whatever your problem is, I wish we could settle it right now.”

“You know what? I helped you get off Peragus. If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have even gotten off the administration level. I’m trying to help you. I don’t know why I’m bothering.”

She knew that eventually, she might have gotten off without him because the Sith were after her. But she didn’t tell him that. She kept her mouth shut. She focused on what he was able to do for her. “Why are you protecting me?”

He shrugged and briefly looked away from her. He calmed down a bit. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I understand it half the time.”

She sighed. “I just wanted to—”

“You know what?" he resumed his attack. "Not once have I asked you about the Mandalorian Wars, not once. I heard about Dxun. Everyone has. I heard about Serroco, and I sure as hell know about Malachor V. What makes you think you’ve got the right to interrogate me on anything? You’ve got plenty of lives to answer for—all you Jedi do.”

“Please don’t try to change the subject.” He mentioned a subject that she wanted untouched, but she kept herself in check. “But, if you’ve got a question, then ask.”

“How did you even live with yourself after Malachor?” he scoffed “Is that why you went back to the Jedi Council? Hoping they’d kill you?”

She looked away. “It wasn’t like that.”

“But Jedi don’t kill do they? At least not their prisoners. Maybe you were counting on it when you went back in chains. So you got off easy—you were exiled, brushed under the cargo ramp, another dirty little Jedi secret.”

“They had their reasons. I just don’t know—”

He wasn’t listening to her. “I’ll tell you, all those Jedi at Malachor? They deserved it. Every last one of them.” There was coldness in his voice that she didn’t hear before.

“No they don’t!” She nearly shouted at him, even he was surprised at her outburst. She calmed herself a bit before continuing,

“There must be some reason why you believe as you do—why?” For her own sake, she had to keep believing that for everyone.

“Because Jedi lie.” He cruelly said, staring down at her. “And they manipulate. And every act of charity or kindness they do, you can drag it out squirming into the light and see it for what it is. The galaxy doesn't need Jedi arrogance or Jedi hypocrisy anymore. At least the Sith are honest about what they're killing for. The Jedi are pacifists... except in times of war. They're teachers... except when it comes to telling their students the truth. And when they save you, it's only so you can suffer more.”

“No. They’re not.” She contradicted him in a low but firm voice. “The Jedi are guardians of peace. The Sith—”

“The Jedi... the Sith... you don't get it, do you? To the galaxy, they're the same thing; just men and women with too much power, squabbling over religion, while the rest of us burn.”

“You are wrong. That is not the path that I am trying to follow.”

He had enough. “Whatever - just leave me alone. I don't know why I'm wasting time with you anyway.”

She knew that there must be some reason behind the violence of his words, but she too had her limits. With the last of her self-control, she tried not to choke as she softly uttered, “You…you have said enough. I…I have to go.” She didn’t want to lose her self-control in front of him. She knew that he wanted her to suffer. Although she knew that his words were untrue, they still had hurt her, stinging her unhealed scars.

As she threaded heavily to the lifts, he glanced at her on the side. He wanted to hurt her as she hurt him with her questions. Because of her, he grew crazy about a million times a day. He didn’t want to stop lying—even for her, and because of her.

They avoided each other for days. Bao-dur and Visas noticed this, but they did not comment on it. Mical turned a blind eye. Kreia remained in the shadows. They have all respected each other’s personal space. They have seen Atton and Aranel fight uncountable times, but they knew that it didn’t get as worse as that. Each did the best one could to avoid the other. They didn’t speak about it.  

One night, Atton got drunk again. He woke up in a dingy apartment with a green twilek in his arm. He didn’t even remember how he got there. She was still sleeping. He grabbed his clothes on the floor and crept away silently.

It was still dark. The Nar Shaddaa alleys were empty near dawn. A fog was thickening. The drunks who usually passed out on the streets after a several pints of juma were gone. He had to watch out for a few speeders driving almost at light speed. The streets were lit by only a few lamps, but they were enough for him. He was used to the shadows.

After some time, he got a notion that he was being followed. He couldn’t tell who it was, but he knew that this person was heavily armed. He stayed calm, as if he didn’t notice. The figure crept silently.

As Atton made a sudden turn around the corner, this person ran after him. After the turning was a dead end. Suddenly, from behind, he struck. She had become aware of him just in time to evade the blow on her neck and throw a counter punch which he was able to block.

From the dim light, he was surprised to see that she was a skimpily attired woman. He didn’t see her next hit coming, throwing him to the ground.

She started running away but she didn’t think that he would recover so quickly. He dove for her and the next moment, they were struggling once more. Although that he knew that his opponent was a woman, he had to admit that her speed and strength almost matched his. Then she pulled her a rocket that was hidden on her wrist. The fight was over.

“Back off! I don’t want to use this on you.” She threatened, with her wrist launcher aimed at him.

He obeyed. “Why are you following her?!”

“I’m not following her. I’m following you, idiot.”

He was taken aback. He didn’t expect that answer from her. “Why?”

“I just wanna know what kind of wampa is following her.” She got up and placed on hand on her hips. The other hand had a finger pointing at him. “You know, sometimes it’s no wonder you can’t figure yourself out the way you lie to yourself all the time.”

At that moment, he couldn’t say anything or move, even more surprised at her observation.

“Look, I’ve hunted a lot of people in my line of work but I have never met someone who wants to get lost more than you do. I’ve got a pretty good idea why but not the whole picture. My advice: come clean before I find out.”

He remained frozen and speechless. With Atton, that does not happen often, but he knew that it was true. As stood there thinking, he didn’t see her disappear in the fog.

Aranel tried to meditate on the cargo hold’s cold metal floor. Even through the wall, she could hear the ship’s engine. She could hear her friends’ thoughts and dreams. She could still hear all the voices at Malachor. Though distant, they still echoed in her mind. She inhaled and exhaled. It is like every breath that she breathed, she breathed because of them. In some ways, she had survived because of them.

She got up and slowly crept down to the ramp to feel the dawn air. It was still dark. It was cold, and yet refreshing. The Nar Shaddaa night was alive as always. She enjoyed it though she didn’t take part in any of its revels. She just loved its life. In a few minutes, night will end to give way from morning.

At the bridge, she didn’t expect someone standing there. She moved closer and recognized who that person was—the person she avoided and avoided her. She wasn’t angry anymore. He had said many things, but she has forgiven him. Yet, she still felt awkward when she was with him since their last argument. She knew that he always went out at night though she was unsure where.

She wanted to move away, but as he saw her, it was he who came towards her. “Still awake?”

“I seldom sleep," softly answered. "But I know you know that.”

“Figures.”

There was an awkward silence. Neither one could say anything. Then, they bursted out almost simultaneously: “I’m sorry.” One said it almost silently, the other a bit abruptly. But each word served its purpose. Their eyes met, until Aranel looked down submissively. He let her speak.

She stumbled for the right words. “I just wanted to know…but if you didn’t want to tell me…”

“No, it’s okay…Just…don’t get too attached to me. I don’t like it.” His face tightened as if something caused him a small measure of pain.

She tried to search his eyes. “Why not?”

He bitterly laughed. “Aren’t you Jedi supposed to know that?” She blushed a bit, not sure if she should be ashamed to know more in that aspect more than she should.

He continued, “Besides, I’m a deserter. It’s what I do.”

Her small eyes widened. She read his face. There was a hint of sadness and guilt. She didn’t know that he was a soldier like she was. “Which war are you talking about?”

He sat down beside one of the ship’s claws. She followed suit, sitting closely beside him almost touching his shoulder. She had no idea how her nearness affected him, yet he gave no hint of it. “Served in both of them. Against the Mandalorians, before and after Revan, and again…after Revan declared war on the Jedi.”

“I didn’t know you served with the Republic.”

“I did.” He leaned is head on the metal claw. His brown eyes stared on to the horizon which now had a light blue color. “Up until the Republic officers began to ‘betray’ their oaths to the Republic and side with Revan - Admiral Karath, Mon Halan, General Derred, and all the rest. Right after that final battle at Malachor, I was right there with the rest of the defectors, because it was the right thing to do.”

The right thing to do. Someone had also said that once to her, but she knew that that was only an illusion so decided to leave. “That was wrong: you answered war with war.”

“No, it wasn't. We needed the Jedi during the Mandalorian Wars, more than anything. The Mandalorians were slaughtering us by the millions. The millions.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds and sighed. “You were at Serroco, when they turned the Stereb cities into glass craters. At Duro, when basilisk war droids rained like meteors onto the orbiting cities, and when the Mandalorians set fire to the Xoxin plains on Eres III - the fires that still burn.”

As he spoke, she tried to shut out the horrifying details that came back to her. It was her turn to stare at the horizon as yellow hues were starting to appear.

He knew that those memories pained her. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but he kept himself in check. “Without the Jedi who turned on the Council - without you, the Republic would have lost the war, and we would all be Mandalorian slaves or corpses.”  

She sighed once more. “I understand, but I don’t think it was right to start another war.”

“We were loyal to Revan.” He said resolutely. “That was enough. He saved us.”

“So you followed Revan…like I had. I get it, more than you know.” She knew that she did more than just follow Revan. She too had loved Revan like countless others, like Atton, though hers was probably much deeper.

He knew where that was going to go, so he redirected the subject. “After Malachor, after the Mandalorian Wars, that's when the Sith teachings started spreading through the ranks. We knew where our loyalties lay - to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So when those same Jedi who watched us die decided to start fighting us during the Jedi Civil War, we fought back. I fought back.”

“You fought Jedi?” Her eyes flickered back to him incredulously. For some reason, she didn’t see him as someone who could outmatch a Jedi.

“I didn't fight Jedi, I killed them.” He placed his head on his knees. “A lot of them.” He lifted his head. “People say killing Jedi is hard. It's not. You just have to be smart about it. No blasters, no getting close to them, no attacking them directly when you can gun down their allies instead. There's ways of gassing them, drugging them, making them lose control, torturing them. I was really good at it. What's worse, is that killing them wasn't the best thing. Making them fall... making them see our side of it, that was the best.” His lips widened into a self-satisfied smile that almost horrified her. He wanted her to scare her off or make her angry enough to kill him. Yet some part of him wanted her to stay with him as she was.

Her face revealed sorrow instead of fear. She realized that if she has anything to fear, it is for him to go where she could not reach him. “You make it sound…easy.”

“I taught myself... techniques. It's hard for Jedi to sense what you're really thinking if you throw up walls of strong emotions and feelings. Lust, impatience, cowardice... most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes the Jedi on our side wouldn't even realize I was there.” He said that proudly, reluctantly.

To her, the pieces were falling into place. “Is that why you lie and act the way you do?”

He sighed. “Part of it. Maybe it was always me. It's hard to tell sometimes. I haven't known who I am for years. I wasn't the only one. I know you left at the Mandalorian Wars, so you don't know much about what went on behind the scenes in the Jedi Civil War. But Revan understood one thing - the real battle was going to be fought between the Jedi on both sides. That was the only battle that mattered.”

“So…this came to the Jedi and the Force.” She mutterered softly, sadly.

“Whoever had the most, the strongest Jedi were going to win the Civil War. If Revan couldn't convert Jedi, then Revan would kill them. So Revan trained elite Sith units into assassination squads, whose duty was to go out and capture enemy Jedi. I was in one of the special units trained to do this.”

“Capture Jedi?” She was surprised at Revan’s actions, the man she thought she knew so well.

“Yeah, Revan had plans for all Jedi. I think it was important that the Jedi see his side of things, the Sith teachings. Revan wanted to break them. And then have them join him.”

She watched him laud his commander-in-chief. It was obvious that he too admired Revan. He obviously wanted to follow him, but he ended up with her. “But you are here now, why?”

He sighed again. “One day I decided not to do it anymore, so I left. Ended up on Nar Shaddaa, became someone else.”

It was her turn to sigh again. She knew the gravity of his confession. Although he didn’t ask for it, deep inside, she knew that he wanted to be forgiven. “Now I know why you didn’t want to tell me. You have just told a Jedi that you’ve killed Jedi. Why?”

“Because you've killed Jedi, too. Different circumstances, but you have a bigger body count than I ever did. And I've been with you only a short time, enough to know that as soon as someone signs on with you, they haven't got long to live. You got history, and anyone who travels with you doesn't. And maybe I want somebody to know who I was in case a story needs to be set straight. Maybe you understand.”

She wanted to tell him that she did, but she did not know how. She could only ask, “Why did you leave the Sith?”

“Well, there was a woman. A Jedi. She... she gave her life for mine.”

“Were you sent to kill her?” She didn’t expect that anyone would come to save him, at that turbulent time.

He sadly shook his head. “It wasn't a mission. She sought me out. She said she had come to save me. I never knew her name. She sought me out. She said she had come to save me. She was lying, of course - or I think she was. It doesn't matter - she told enough truth to get my attention.”

“Like what?”

“She said that Revan was doing something terrible to Jedi within the Unknown Regions. That when we captured Jedi, they were sent to a place designed to... break them. And that anyone in his service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there, too, to turn them, to break them into Dark Jedi... or assassins trained to kill Jedi. She said that's what would happen to me - that I had the Force inside me, that's why I was so good at killing Jedi. And that when the Sith learned of it, there would be no escape, no turning back. I would become an instrument of the dark side, forever.”

There was some weight on that last word. As he paused, she realized that there was truly much that had happen after she left, after she had escaped. Although she was grateful that she was not there when they happened, she was saddened by the fact that it caused scars to many, not only Atton but for all the people she had come to care about.

His voice interrupted her train of thought. “I had heard talk in the ranks, troops vanishing. I knew what she meant, but I didn't believe her - or want to believe her.”

“If you didn’t believe her, then what happened to her?” At that time, many Jedi disappeared, without names like her. Her thoughts came to the woman. In such a time as that, she knew that a Jedi could fear the worst.

He stared once more into the horizon. “I did what I did with all Jedi. I hurt her. I hurt her a lot.”

She could sense some guilt in his voice. As he turned away to the shadows, she could only feel the weight of his voice.

“And then, right when I thought she couldn't take anymore - she showed me the Force. In my head. And I felt everything she felt, and I heard just an echo of what the Force was. And how what I was doing...”

He never finished that sentence. Aranel thought that maybe it was too painful for him. It took a few more seconds before he recovered himself.

“I think I loved her, but it wasn't that kind of love.” He selected his words carefully. He searched for a hint of jealousy in her but could find none. He thought that perhaps she was not taught to be jealous. “It was the kind of love where you're willing to give up everything for someone you don't even know.”

“Perhaps she knew a greater good would happen if she would somehow manage to save you.” That was the only insight that she could offer.

“Maybe,” he assented. “It doesn't matter. I killed her for crawling in my head, for showing me that. But before she opened her mind to mine, my only thought was that I would love to kill her. And at the end, I killed her because I loved her. In the end, she sacrificed herself to keep my secret, to prevent the Sith from knowing about that touch of the Force inside me. She wasted her life to save me. Me.”

More weight was poured on that last word. She noticed his clenched fists.

“And I felt her die, when she opened her mind. I've killed Jedi like I said, but I was never there to feel it, to be on the receiving end. And after that, I couldn't stop feeling things - before, guilt, lust, impatience, it had been orchestrated to get close - now, it all just kept tumbling out - and I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. So I left. I fled with the displaced war veterans to Nar Shaddaa and I lost myself there, until the war came to an end. I wanted no more of Jedi, or Dark Jedi, or the Force. I just wanted to be left alone. And then, I met you on Peragus.”

He turned once more to face her, his eyes searching hers. She saw a faint sad smile play on his lips, as if Peragus had been a bittersweet memory.

“And I thought, maybe, maybe she had saved me so that I could help you. And if I can't, then I have to try.”

“Thank you.” That was all she could say. She didn’t notice that there was already water on her cheeks. With all her heart, she welcomed his help.

His dark brown eyes locked into hers as he tired to gently wipe off some of her tears. “Once, a Jedi showed me the Force - I heard it, I felt it. At the time, there was too much pain to confront it - because if I did, it meant I would be changed into something else. Now, I'm not afraid of it anymore. And I think that by learning how to use it - I can help protect you. Or at least buy you some time when disaster comes screaming in. I want to learn how to use the Force. I want to learn how to use the Force to help you.”

She gently took his hands and smiled. “Then I will help you first.”

“What must I do?” He awkwardly stumbled, “Is there some ritual, or…”

“Just close your eyes, open your mind…and don’t think of my hands!”

“Oh…sorry.” For a moment, he had forgotten that she could read his thoughts. He had seldom touched her small, cold, rough, overworked yet gentle hands. Her nearness was distracting.

“Try to concentrate.”

He obeyed, breathing in and out as his Echani masters had once taught him.

You must learn to feel it around you, feel its currents, its eddies.

He did so. It was with him all along, touching him, moving him, enveloping him, protecting him as it did her.

Listen to the echoes of your thoughts, your heart, separated from war, separated from hate.

He tried to listen. Before the war, he never had a home nor family. But there were people who he loved and fought the war for: the image of a pilot who he wanted to be like when he was a child, his Echani master, his comrades, the once uncorrupted Jedi who helped them, and her…the woman he killed and loved. It was only at that moment that he understood what that woman wanted to do for him. With his thoughts, he touched an image of her more gently. He had truly loved her as he love the one who was holding to him and whispering to him.

Think of what you felt when you felt the need to help me, to protect me…

He had always thought of his own lusts, his own needs, but whenever she was around, sometimes he forgot who he was. She was the one who first reached out to him, unknowingly. For that, he loved her. He knew that he did even perhaps at the moment when he first saw her, as she walked to him with only her underwear at Peragus. Even with the memory of her pointing her blaster at him and angrily telling him to keep his eyes up, he saw something in her that was innocent, untainted, even by the war. He just couldn’t tell what it was. He reached out farther to her thoughts but he couldn’t get to them. It was a bit far up. She truly was his angel, although he cringed at the thought of the cliché.

And at last, Atton…awaken…

He opened his eyes. He realized that it was already morning. She was glorious, peaceful under the morning light. It took a few more moments before she opened hers. All was silent around them, even Nar Shaddaa. He had told her everything. For the first time, he felt like he was forgiven.

Even as they got up, one of her hands stayed in his. “Let’s walk back to the Hawk,” she said.

He agreed, but in the next few minutes, neither of them realized that they were both walking hand in hand to the opposite direction.

She was truly happy. At that moment, there was almost nothing between them. Someday, she would understand everything. Someday, there would be no veil between them. She saw him clearly now under the sun. He had taught her to lie, but in doing so, he had also taught her to dream. Sometimes when lies come true, they are like dreams that come true. He had taught her to hope. She smiled as she leaned on his shoulder. At that moment, she couldn’t think of anything that she would rather do than waste her time with him.

A few hours later, they will have to explain to the crew that they had gotten lost.

To be continued…in “Rain” (tentative title).