Not In Our Stars

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie felt a smile start growin' across her lips in a lopsided way. Did she still know how to… Of course, there was no way the Jedi would have known that sort of thing. It'd been ages and then some, after all. Her amusement faded as her racin' mind caught back up to what else he'd said though.

"M' droid?" Her head went off on it's own way, tiltin' to one side as if he'd just asked her the most perplexin' question in all the verse. Realization came swift though and smacked her right upside the noggin, causin' Sadie's eyes to go wide. "Oh! You mean Katie! She ain't my droid. Well, I mean, I work with her but she ain't mine. She's my friend though so you'll have t' go an' ask her yourself if she'd be willin' t' help out. Probably ain't nothin' nowhere that us two can't get into if we worked t'gether on it, I reckon."

Her head turned, lookin' back towards the Y-Wing before she gestured full on with one of her arms. "Y' guys don't have t' wait in the ship or nothin'. Katie, come meet... " she faltered as she realized she didn't quite know what to call the guy nowadays. His name was escapin' her. His face was nothin' short of familiar, his voice and mannerisms even more so, but lack of somethin' to call him was throwin' stuff off kilter. "...an ol' friend o' mine."

Weren't quite right but it'd do for the moment.

"You too, Nen. An for kriff's sake, leave th' weapons in th' ship." Sadie sheepishly looked back towards the Jedi, a small shrug playin' across her shoulders that was workin' it's merry awkward way through the rest of her. "You'll have t' excuse th' lot of us. Ain't really the proper sort and 'm sure y're used t' dealin' with more… respectable folks. Been an odd sort of few weeks for th' lot of us, I guess."

[R4-K8]

The conversation between Miss Sadie and the lightsaber-wielding individual might have been too far away for the audio reception of a conventional organic listener, but not for a droid like Katie. Even so, as Katie's systems processed the spoken words, an error flagged in her fact-checking subroutines, forcing her to run an intensive linguistic analysis, just to be sure. The results were conclusive. Statement confirmed. The error persisted.

She's my friend.

Data points and subroutine parameters were written in a cascade of system updates. New conditions were set in Katie's social interaction protocols. It took a fraction of a second, but it was still too long. Katie fired her jets to boost herself out of the droid socket, persisting with the thrust to propel herself in a forward parabola, landing in a high speed trundle that brought her beside Miss Sadie in mere seconds. Applying her breaks carefully, she slowed enough to bring herself alongside her friend, positioning herself so her conical dome nudged it's way under Miss Sadie's hand.

And then the second critical error of the day processed.

In the low light, Katie had been unable to obtain sufficient optical resolution for any kind of facial recognition analysis. Katie's statistical predictions did not suggest that a familiar correlation was likely, but as it was a core subroutine of her operating system, the process ran regardless. The results were deeply erroneous. Her recognition program contained a contingency, a predictive algorithm that approximated possible variations from saved facial patterns based on age, weight change, and facial hair. The face that she now scanned contained a startlingly high probability match with one she had on file, but it's current variation seemed to deviate too far from the prediction curve she was programmed with. The face had not deviated sufficiently to account for the elapsed time. If the match was indeed correct, the ensuing thirty years of time should have had a considerably more significant impact on the human standing before her. The probability of him being the individual her software concluded him to be was infinitesimal: too statistically small to even be acknowledged. An outlier. A close mathematical approximation of impossibility. And yet -

Katie's optic sensor dimmed slightly. The error triggered a brief accidental pulse in the circuits for her locomotion servos, her chassis recoiling backwards slightly in apparent surprise. The only course of action that presented itself was to enquire for clarification: to ask for an explanation to overcome the error.

01001101 01100001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01110010 00100000 01001001 01101110 01111001 01101111 01110011 00111111

[Inyos Aamoran]

How did it know his name?

While Inyos was not as fluent in droidspeak as some citizens of the galaxy were, a war spent as a Jedi Knight, with an Industrial Automaton astromech droid in every starfighter he had ever flown had made him intimately familiar with that particular sequence of bloops and whistles. He knew inherently that this little droid - an R4-series agromech if he was not mistaken, based on the chassis design - had recognised him, and yet he had no memory of encountering such a droid. The only R4 units he was familiar with were the ones like P13, a special variant of the model created specifically for use by the Jedi Order aboard their starfighters. The early models were inseparably integrated into the fuselage the way that P13 was, though Inyos knew of some Jedi who had arranged for the central processors and memory core to be transferred into an independent chassis; an odd display of attachment and sentimentality that would have deeply irritated his younger self, but that he now found oddly nostalgic and comforting.

He dropped himself down into a crouch, bringing himself level with the droid's optic receptor. It did nothing to alter his recognition of the droid, but it seemed appropriate somehow. This conversation was between him and this droid, and it did not seem proper to conduct it while looking down upon it.

"I am afraid I do not recognise your new face, little one. How do you know me?"

[Nen Lev'i]

The instruction to leave his weapons behind in the cockpit was utterly ignored. Ever since that freaky lightsaber guy had magicked open the air seal on the cockpit canopy, Nen had been sat there with a holdout blaster aimed at the guy's head. Or at least, aimed in his general vicinity: even on a brightly lit day with a sniper rifle, Nen would be lucky to even hit the guy at all from this distance, and knowing Nen's luck he'd do the vwoom thing with his lightsaber and end up deflecting any shots he fired at Sadie, which would mean that Captain Montegue would want to kill him twice as bad, but still. Thought that counts or something.

But yeah, now Sadie was all chit-chatting with the guy as if she knew him or whatever, old friend and all that, and so Nen was supposed to act like everything was fine. The air could have been poisonous, Sadie, his mind protested angrily. That whole opening the canopy stunt could have killed him. Okay, so perhaps that was unlikely, what with the whole Jedi standing there breathing just fine without any mask on or anything, but he could have been a cyborg, or had gills, or an immunity, or some other weird something or other that meant that he could stand there not dying from something that Nen could have easily died from. It was the principle of the thing, and now Miss Reckless Endangerment and Mister Reckless Endangerment were all chummy and it was just so infuriating.

So the holdout blaster had been shoved into one of the pockets of his hooded jacket, and the lightsaber tucked awkwardly into the waistband of his pants, before it was untucked and flipped over before being tucked back in again. Of the two fates, he's rather die by having his stomach accidentally slashed open than his junk accidentally slashed off, especially since he wasn't entirely sure the latter would be fatal, but knew he would very much wish that it had been. Grabbing his all-purpose datapad too, he clambered his way out of the cockpit, and trudged over to where -

Oh great. So now Katie was getting all friendly with this maniac too. Everybody was being nice to everybody, except no one was being nice to Nen. Fan-bloody-tastic. Par for the course, that.

Katie blooped and whistled away some statement or other. Out of reflex, Nen glanced down at his datapad, blurting out the translation for the sake of the non-fluent. "She says My designation is R4-K8." Nen frowned, and then one eyebrow climbed it's way back up, a disparaging look thrown in the droid's direction. "Well duh, Katie, we could a' told 'im that."

[Inyos Aamoran]

R4-K8.

Thoughts ticked away behind Inyos' furrowed brow. Katie, they called her; but no, that didn't sound quite right. R4-K8. Arfour Kay-Eight. Kay -

Kate?

Realisation dawned, the mystery obliterated in a cascade of nostalgic understanding. For a moment there was a surge of familiarity and joy, and then it faltered, the sombre sadness of all the realisations that went along with it tumbling onto Inyos like hail, playing out on his expression as tired lines that deepened further still in the dim light.

"You flew with Mandan Hidatsa during the Clone Wars."

His voice emerged in a level tone, but the edges were crumpled, sadness playing out at the ends of his words. Kate responded with an enthusiastic affirmative, rocking a little from one leg to the other, a flurry of bloops and whistles - but then she stopped, suddenly falling silent, her dome twitching the slightest bit from side to side, the way it always did when she was running some sort of complex calculation. It was funny that, how a glitch like that had transferred even to this new chassis she had occupied; a tiny motor error that had become a part and parcel of her personality. The whistle that came next was tentative, clearly a question, clearly one where the answer was already speculated to be something bad. Inyos didn't need the translation.

"He died, more than twenty years ago. I -"

Killed him. Inyos stopped himself from saying that. The words were true, but the sentiment was false. Under the circumstances, Mandan's death had been unavoidable. It had spared him from the corruption that Inyos had suffered; from the torturous isolation that Inyos had been forced to endure for so long. A dark presence had twisted Mandan's emotions, exploited the strength of his heart and compassion and turned it into a weakness; turned Mandan against his closest friend all because of an impossible choice. No matter what the guilt and the dreams that plagued him insisted, Inyos had done the right thing. The right thing. It just didn't always feel that way.

"I lost him while we were attempting to rescue a woman stranded on a remote world." Inyos placed a hand gently against the side of Kate's dome. "He died the kind of hero that he spent his life being."

A mournful whistle escaped from Kate, but there was a certain understanding to it, a certain acceptance. Or perhaps there wasn't, and Inyos was merely projecting. He had spent so long isolated from people back then, a decade alone and in the dark; he had forgotten faces, and expressions, and the subtleties of the emotions of others, and to understand them now was as much estimation as it was intuition. To him, the subtle ticks and twitches of an automaton were as comprehensible as the nuances of a flesh and blood being: entirely incomprehensible, that is.

"I am glad to see you though," he assured. "I require your help, if you are willing to give it. All of your help," he added, his gaze encompassing the two humans as well.

Slowly he shifted his eyes between them, looking first at Sid, and then at her companion. He was clearly having some kind of emotional reaction to their current situation, but Inyos didn't have it within him to comprehend what. No doubt if it was important, the man would make it clearer to him in due time.

"I am Inyos Aamoran," he explained, "And this -"

He gestured around him to the darkness, to the platform, to the Enclave, the situation, everything.

"This is a long story."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

If someone had given her a good shake that mornin' and asked what Sadie thought she might get herself up to today... well, nothin' that happened would be listed that was for damn sure. The whole Uncle Atton thing had been a jostle yet she took it in stride despite part of her head wantin' to wig out nice and good 'bout it. That though? That was nothin' compared to standin' around in some abandoned Jedi temple type joint with an actual Jedi she had actually met at one point off in the long dark yonder. This were absolutely completely one hundred percent bloody kriffin' insane. Yet somehow she was entirely at ease. Aside from feeling a might bit foolish here and there she actually weren't freakin' out like she had the proper rights to. Should have been unnervin' but instead was just... Strange. Mighty gorram strange at that.

Didn't seem t' matter though. Even when Inyos - was good to hear Katie say it. Made it so she didn't have to ask, even if he told them all in the end - escorted the lil' droid and Nen off to another area she didn't feel it reason to make a fuss. She just kinda intrinsically trusted th' guy. Which was about a million shades of wrong given that Vitt were the only other person who managed to go from total stranger into that status. Even Atton had taken a bit and she still weren't entirely certain of him even if she wanted to be.

Where the hell did she go? The girl who had avowed not to give a damn about anyone and trust nobody but herself? Trusting people was dangerous. Caring was even worse and nowadays she was guilty of both. Was gonna end bad, that was for certain. Only thing to do was ride out the good while you had it, Sadie guessed.

Weren't just the situation that was nuts, though. The actual location was even more crazy. She weren't all that good with history but when Inyos had explained what he knew about the joint it sounded all sorts of confusin'. Maybe if she could help sort it out it would quiet everythin' back down in her head and she could get back t' drinkin' beers with Vitt and not givin' a crap anymore.

Sadie glanced over her shoulder as Inyos came back in the chamber he'd left her in, lookin all shadowy as he approached on account of the big arse holo projector now behind her vision.

"I gotta say," she said with an amused short laugh followin'. "Downright quandary y' got y'self here. I aint seen systems like this in... frak, longer than I can even remember where I seen 'em. Guessin' K8'll have a bit more luck than me. Kriff, I can't even figure what made them big ol' doors open up when we got here an' that should be easy."

Sadie paused and contemplated apologizing for all the swearing. Didn't seem right to do in front of a Jedi.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Kate and the odd jumpy fellow had been escorted to the archive database that Inyos had earlier discovered, hoping that between the two of them they could provide portable power to the unit and access some sort of log or journal that might explain a little of what was going on here. Sid - Sadie, the others called her - had remained in what they were currently guessing was the command centre or control room, trying to work her way beyond the surface levels of the platform's operating systems.

Inyos shared Sid's assessment that the system architecture was strange. He was not a slicer like she was, but he did understand enough to know that there was a network connecting all of the computer systems on the platform: they just had no way of accessing it. There was a strange mix of functionality: at specific locations there were tactile interfaces, manual controls that allowed you some basic level of operation. You could open each door individually, if you were there. You could manipulate the atmosphere shield in the hangar. You could push controls on the consoles here in the control room, and make small things happen in the immediate vicinity. They could not do anything remotely, though. They could not access the environmental controls to open or close all of the doors, the way one would expect fire prevention protocols to do. They couldn't affect the ambient lighting, or run any kind of diagnostic on the atmosphere protocols, or the power generators. Perhaps it was merely a symptom of the platform operating in what seemed to be low power mode. Or perhaps -

Inyos' head cocked to the side as he considered Sid's comment. The door. The entrance that they had both passed through. When he had arrived, he had not deliberately initiated any kind of trigger, no transmission or security code or anything of the sort, and yet the hangar had opened automatically for him. Part of him wondered if it was merely an automated response, a reaction to the detection of any kind of craft that approached, and yet somehow he knew that was incorrect. Somehow he knew that it was not his presence, but rather his thoughts that had made the difference; or perhaps his desire and need to get inside, the way that the Force had insisted he should. There were certain technologies capable of responding to such things: holocrons for example could only be opened by manipulation of the Force, and Inyos supposed that theoretically there was no reason that the same principles could not be applied to a door, or a computer password. What better way to safeguard the secrets of Force users than to make it impossible for anyone but them to utilise your computer network?

But then, why the local terminals? Were they a redundancy? Systems that droids could use, or allies who were not able to manipulate the Force? A grim thought occurred to Inyos as he contemplated the possibilities. Slaves? There were any number of groups from history that might have referred to themselves as a Brotherhood, and while at first Inyos had thought - or perhaps hoped - that it referred to some sort of religious order or benevolent alliance perhaps, that was not necessarily the case. Either way, the Brotherhood seemed to be Force users; no wonder the Jedi had eventually found their way here. Of all the things that the Jedi Order had been throughout it's history, tolerant of belief systems about the Force other than their own it was not.

He frowned a little, a hint of surprise in the expression that he directed towards Sid. Had she not come to the same conclusion? Had she somehow not realised that her mind had been what triggered the entrance? His head cocked to the side, trying to get a sense of her, to understand the way that she fit into the interwoven tapestry of the Force. He felt brightness within her, a bright gleam of shining silver lurking beneath the surface, but it was dulled; not tarnished the way that his own presence in the Force had been, but rather as if she had never been polished, as if she had been made and then discarded without anyone ever taking the care to bring her to the clear potential that she had. A note of sadness knotted itself in his chest. It had been tragic enough when she had been the lonely street orphan back on Nar Shaddaa, the one who had helped to save so many others but fled before Inyos and Mandan had been able to help her. Now though it was worse: Inyos wondered how many opportunities for safety, for a life, for happiness had been denied to her over the years since then. Not just that; even worse than that.

You don't think you deserve to be saved.

Inyos considered his words carefully, fighting the urge to simply state the obvious fact as he so typically did. "I do not think I am incorrect," he began quietly; it was not something that they had spoken of, and yet somehow he knew that they both on some level understood this to be the case. "In saying that we were both drawn here, to this place, by a will that was not our own."

That was a reasonable start: no outrageous or alarming conclusions there. Yet, the need to approach this gently compounded itself in his mind. He got the sense that Sid, that Sadie, that her connection to the Force was something that she buried, that she hid, something that she had yet to embrace and that she perhaps regarded with trepidation, even fear. That was not surprising, amid the hostility towards those capable of such things that had existed her entire life, but it was also dangerous - fear was the first step on so many dark paths, and Inyos knew from painful experience that fear of oneself and one's capabilities was by far the most toxic.

"I believe that like me, your connection to the Force is such that you are able to influence it; to encourage the Force to heed your will in subtle ways. I do not believe this is a capability that you have exercised, or embraced, or trained to use, but I sense it there none the less. I believe this Enclave sensed it too: either our proximity, or our subconscious thought. We wished the door to be opened, and so it was. We intended to be inside this place, and so the path was opened to us."

He felt the shift in Sadie's emotions, the way her spirit recoiled from the accusation that he had just made, the hidden truth that he had exposed. Part of him wanted to reach out with the Force, to impose his gentle will upon her and soothe the anxiety that he felt within her; but Sid deserved better. She had spent too long being manipulated, too long being denied and repressed, to long being forced into hiding by necessity or by wills other than her own. A platitude, a manipulation, those were more of the same injustice, and Inyos would not be part of forcing it to persist further. The truth, then.

"You worry about your secret being revealed. You worry that people will regard you differently if they learn of this aspect of you. Know that I will not. Whatever else this place may have been in it's past, it is an Enclave of the Jedi Order, and you are safe here, from harm and from judgement. On my honour as a Knight, I promise you that."

He faltered for a moment, another truth offering itself in his mind, one that he was unsure that he had the right to convey. He danced around it carefully, the truth revealed without being outright stated.

"I do not think your friend will judge you for it, either. I believe that -" He stopped himself, changed the words that he was about to speak, a tiny preservation of that other secret. "- a man who carries a lightsaber tucked into the front of his trousers will be in any way alarmed to learn of what you have the potential to be capable of."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Yeah I know," Sadie answered with a heavy breath. "Known for a long while now. Jus' didn't go seein' th' need t' make a deal out of it. Ain't like it's exactly somethin' t' be proud of nowadays."

Was somethin' a person could get lost thinkin' about, that you were one o' them freaks as Vitt and probably a half billion others called 'em. She never really experimented none, didn't try nothin' weird like movin' stuff around with her mind or makin' others think a certain way. Was more natural instinct she guessed that let her judge situations an' helped out with speedin' up slicin' to a point where she could compete with droids and such. If that's all that ever came of it, that was good enough.

The door, though, that was downright clever of whoever came up with it. A piece of info to tuck away for later, maybe. Not that she figured she'd be good enough t' make such a thing on her own but damn. Frakkin' brilliant, that.

"And it ain't him I'm worried 'bout." She nodded down off the ways that Nen was at.

Was the truth, really. Sometimes people found out what she was and usually it weren't no big deal. Bog knew and 'bout the only thing he'd done 'bout it was make sure she was too hurt t' go breakin' her own bonds when he'd tore into her. Ether that or he just didn't care if she tried to fight back. Never found out and lingerin' on that was startin' to agitate her somethin' awful.

Sadie guessed Atton knew since he apparently knew just about everythin' havin' to do with her. Must have trusted her ability t' keep it secret too since he weren't tryin' to get her away from Vitt all quick like. Vitt... kriff sake. She never really cared if folks found out one way or another, she'd handle it. Vitt though? She didn't want him knowin'. Meant that he might tell her to shove off or worse and that thought bugged in ways that made her memories of what Bog had done seem like a damn walk down through th' park. Should'a known better, though. Vitt weren't dumb, he'd find out one day and then she'd go and lose him. Probably some worse stuff too. Much as that threatened t' break calm, Sadie knew she deserved it. Was the way of the verse and her life, really. Can't keep anythin' good and anythin real good weren't ever gonna be hers.

Kriff sake, Sid get a hang of y'rself. Little infatuation of yours is gettin' downright embarrassin'

"So what happens now? Y' gonna try an' sell me on the Jedi thing? Don't bother... I aint got it in me t' be one and don't want t' neither."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Those words struck a chord and resonated with Inyos. Ain't got it in me. It was a strange concept when you thought about it: that a person's worth and value was something tangible on the inside; something that radiated outwards like heat from the core of a stone. The Jedi knew such things to be true, of course: some could sense auras, some could feel what lay at the heart of a person. Strange though that so many others, so many without such sight, simply accepted the notion to be true, enough for it to become idiom and vernacular.

What resonated though was not the linguistics of it, but the sentiment. That was a feeling with which Inyos had grown all too familiar of late. Or perhaps for him, it was more a matter of what he did have in him: the corruption and the darkness that had infected him during his years on Ord Ithil, the blackness that he could feel clawing at the edges of his self. He often wondered what Padawan Némain saw when she looked at him: few paid much attention to the eccentric young Jedi, but Inyos had learned over the years to heed wisdom wherever it came from. From the way Cleo described people, from the way she spoke, she saw far more than what mortal eyes could see: she saw beyond and beneath, peering into the soul and aura of those before her; and did so as if it were the simplest, most common place thing. He had heard her descriptions of Jedi that he knew, and could feel the accuracy of her descriptions; even when the words spoke of textures and colours, he could feel in her words the emotions and states of mind that she was trying to articulate. He had never heard her describe himself, though. Never found the opportunity to ask. A once bright light perhaps, now faded and dim, enshrouded in black and entangled in thorns.

"I am not sure that I have it in me, either."

A frown gripped his brow, and his mind reached for some sage wisdom from the ages, but none came. None of the great masters that he had studied, none of the ancient consulars whose accounts he had memorised, had ever said anything that could apply to a moment like now. His own wisdom then, such as it was.

"You are afraid," he said quietly; not an accusation, merely a gentle statement of fact. "You fear what will happen if people know who you are. You fear what your friends and your loved ones will do. You fear what the Empire will do. You fear even what the Jedi would do, yes? I can sense the comfort you feel here; the familiarity of this world; the tug that draws your thoughts and your mind back to Cloud City even now. You fear being forced to leave this place. You fear being ripped away; being taken from your home."

He reached out, a hand carefully placed on her shoulder, a calming extension of his aura gently draped across her like a reassuring blanket.

"I have no desire to compel you to leave this place, Sid. I certainly would not seek to drive you to a place where I am not sure that I even belong." He paused, the frown shifting a little on his brow. "But I do worry for you. Fear is the first step on a path that cannot be easily turned back from; and it is a path that leads to the darkest of places. I sense -"

He stopped, shook his head slightly.

"No, not only that. I know there is good in you. Even as a child, you were selfless. Even now you aid a man you hardly know. You are someone who keeps to the corners, who stays in the shade, who evades notice wherever she can. Do not. Come out into the sun. Let yourself stand in the light. It is warmer here; and it is where you belong."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"I ain't..." She knew it would be taken the wrong way but Sadie couldn't help but shrug away from the hand on her shoulder. One of them reflexes that y' kinda felt bad about the second it was over. There weren't nothin' untoward in the Jedi's actions after all, he were just tryin' to give a bit of comfort.

Sadie couldn't bring herself t' finish th' verbal objection at least. Ain't afraid of nothin' was about as far from the truth as a body could find itself. There were other protests too, that Inyos didn't know jack about her, that she didn't know what he was seein' in her but it must have been lookin' clear 'round all the crap. The slicin' jobs done for folks that she knew were downright unsavory, the slave drive she'd helped out in, people she probably made dead with a blaster or a few choice strings of code. The whole sex, drugs, an' rock 'n roll bit...

"Sorry, suns and I don't get along too grand. Pale skin, y' see? Shadows tend t' do me better. Least they have so far. Ain't so bad skirtin' th' edges of light 'n dark, y'know? Less headaches, I guess." Sadie sighed, both at the whole of it and at the fact she was apparently preachin' t' a Jedi. Shiny.

"Look, I know what y're sayin' an', I appreciate it, yeah? Just... some of us folks weren't made for th' light. I tried it once, went on some grand savin' the galaxy thing. Did some real good an' didn't get a whole lot back in thanks other than... Well, okay, so I guess maybe now it's all makin' it up t' me. Got... folks that apparently want t' do right by me. Course I half wonder if it's cause all three of 'em feel like they need t' try an' undo what was done t' me but..."

She was ramblin'. Knew she was an' yet couldn't go an help herself. Somethin' bout the guy just made her want t' open up. Was probably one of them Jedi Mind Tricks but it didn't bother her too bad except now that she caught herself and realized she was sayin' a lot of vague and not a lot of good.

"I just... can't be that. Got too much to lose that I barely got a hold on and I ain't wantin' t' be done with him." That was like a damn brick t' the back of the head. Bad slip of the tongue there, she'd have to watch for that. "Them. It. All of it."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Sarcasm. Deflection. Humour to skirt around reacting to a truth that you couldn't bring yourself to confront. Inyos had known a woman like that, once. Same way of twisting words. Same frustrating way of faking misunderstanding to distract from the abundantly obvious that was there, plain as day. She had meant something to him, back then: something that he didn't understand, something that he couldn't define; but something that stirred and twisted inside him as he spoke. I ain't wantin' t' be done.

He hadn't wanted to be done either, not with her; but the universe had made it feel like there was no other choice. He hadn't been safe to be around back then, back at the height of the Purge. He wondered how long it would take before new Jedi stopped remembering what it was like to be hunted, to live in fear of what you were, to constantly seek to hide who you were and what you could do from even those closest to you. It was madness: the Jedi had always been peacekeepers, guardians, healers, diplomats, sentinels, sages - they had lived to serve, lived to protect, spent their lives and given their lives for the greater good of the Republic. So quickly that had all changed. So quickly, people like Sid had become the new generation, the future of the Jedi Order. Whatever the Jedi became, it would be build upon that fear, built upon that caution, built upon that wariness and distrust and that backwards belief that to protect oneself should take precedence over the protection of others. That did not feel like the right path; not the one the Order should have been walking down. He did not know where the right path could be found, but he knew the ground beneath his feet was unstable, surrounded on all sides by slippery slopes.

What of this path here? What of the beacon that had drawn him to Bespin, and to her? Was this the road that he should walk down - not as part of a great Order seeking to bring brightness to an entire galaxy, but as one man trying to guide one woman back from the brink of darkness; redemption by saving a single life? Was this how he mended the broken light inside him, by helping this fragment of his past to kindle her own? He did not know for certain, he could not hope to divine the specific will of the Force; but surely this was not coincidence, surely there was a deeper purpose to this serendipity?

"What if I stay?"

His mouth made the decision that it knew his heart would inevitably reach, but even then the words surprised him a little as he heard them.

"You misunderstand my intentions, I think. When I speak of shadows, and of light, and the sun, I speak only of the ones that lie inside you. I speak of the shadows that claw at the edges of your thoughts. I speak of the light that flickers and wavers, the embers of joy and hope that deserve to be a roaring fire. I speak of the sun that comes from accepting the affection of others into your heart; of opening yourself to trust, and to love. You joke that you are pale, and that you would burn in the sun; you know this, because you have been burned, and so you choose the cold and the shade, so that it can never happen again."

His expression shifted, still processing her words, his piercing eyes peering into her own, looking for the writing scribed across the surface of her soul.

"I sense that your thoughts dwell on someone. You worry that you will lose him if you ever embrace who you are, and so you hide behind walls; ones that hide you from view, and ones that keep him away. But those are not the only walls you can seek protection behind. Within these walls, within this Enclave, no one but you or I need know the potential that exists within you. With training, you will be able to build new walls that exist only inside, to fortify yourself against the inner darkness, against your fears and nightmares; walls that will not hold the rest of the world at bay, and that will perhaps not stop him from seeing you in the light you wish."

His head bowed slightly.

"So if you wish it, I will remain - here in this Enclave, or across in your city of clouds - for as long as I am needed. As long as it takes to help you find the right footing, and guide you away from the dangerous paths."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Was this guy serious? Well, of course he was serious, weren't like Jedi were known for jokin' around or lyin' straight t' your face. Stickin' 'round to help her though? Of all reasons that the one that made the least damn sense. Gettin' this whole Enclave place up and runnin' would have made a heap ton more sense to her. Still, Sadie felt that same naggin' pullin' sensation and judgin' by the fact she hadn't had t' go an offer her services in helpin' the guy get settled long enough to make this place worth showin' off to the rest of his Jedi buddies, she was gettin' the picture that he was probably bein' nudged in the same direction. She didn't like it, not one bit. Verse needed t' let people make their own damn decisions, dammit. But if it were gonna be all insistent like and if this would shut it up? Fine then.

Besides, learnin' how to possibly proper juggle bits of her life for a change might do her some good. She still weren't sure she could hide anythin' in the long run from Vitt, but maybe, just maybe someone who was used to dealin' with all kinds of persecution could at least maybe help her come up with a way to broach the subject that wouldn't end with a blaster aimed at her skull and one heap of heartache.

Heartache?? Frak, had she really let it get that bad? Obviously th' thought of loosin' the hunter was screamin' out to the galaxy loud enough that Inyos could go an' hear it. Breakin' her own damn rules. Oh well, Cloud City was some sort of fresh start for her, it seemed. Family - actual family - bein' someone's partner, why not throw secret Force lessons into the damn mix? If it was all gonna go belly up at least it could do so in huge blowout spectacular fashion. More fuel for that fire.

Frak she wanted a cigarra bad suddenly. Or just a glass of whiskey. Boss lady always seemed to have somethin' on hand and Sadie was really startin' to appreciate her wisdom in that.

"Y' sure y' really want t' do that? I mean... If y' were certain, I know I could set y' up with a false identity an' papers that no one would question on Cloud City. We wouldn't even need t' move your ship, I can..." Well, couldn't go an' offer him a ride back on the Y-Wing. That'd mean leavin' Nen here alone and she was sure that'd go over as well as throwin' the poor guy into a pit of needles.

They'd need bigger transport if they were gonna all get off the platform. Makin' the Jedi take his own ship was one giant no-go. Didn't have clearance and while Sadie was sure she could get somethin' workin' on that end right quick it didn't exactly change the fact it was a Jedi ship. Too many questions, too much attention. Nope, they needed another route. And hidin' a Jedi in an Imperial city weren't impossible but damn if she couldn't use help. Luckily, well, Sadie had just got her gorram golden ticket when it came to that thing, hadn't she?

"If y' aint' opposed t' it. I got someone I trust that can get y' t' th' city clean as anythin'. We'll set y' up somewhere decent t' live so y' don't have t' camp out here an' everythin'. My way of sayin' thanks finally, I s'pose. An', I guess payin' y' for... helpin' me again."

[Inyos Aamoran]

He could feel her unease. Her body didn't show it, but the sentiment rolled off her in ripples. This was a big decision, that Inyos understood. For him, being a Jedi had never been a choice: since birth it had only been a matter of time before the Temple came for him, and the Jedi had become the only existence he had ever known; the sense of identity that had shaped who he was. When the Order had been lost, he suffered for it, and had been forced to learn a new way of being, but that imprint of the Jedi Order was still there, still dictating his morality and his beliefs.

Sid though? Sid was shaped by loneliness and hardship. Her beliefs and compulsions were to isolate herself, to rely on no one. You didn't need to have met her a lifetime ago, or read her aura to understand that. You could see it in her words, the way that her eyes didn't always look directly at you when she spoke, the way she stood just that little bit further away to ensure there was a comfortable distance, the way her arms kept protectively close to her instead of quite being as relaxed as any other human might have been. Next to her companion, Nen, who seemed constantly worried and yet constantly care-free - an odd combination - Sid was the poster child for introversion and defensiveness. That, combined with an untrained potential for the Force, and the tugging allure of the dark side? Her safety, her purity, her integrity, her soul was at risk, and for some reason that concerned Inyos far more than it should. Was he so desperate to make amends that all his hopes had now been hung upon saving this one girl? That was what he felt the will of the Force nudging him, and he resented it - not because he minded the prospect of helping Sid mend herself, but because he saw the way that it influenced her as well. Had she not suffered enough already? Had she not earned the right for the universe to leave her alone?

Yet, despite her trepidation, she accepted his offer - more or less. Questioned it, of course, doubting his conviction and willingness. She sought to include another as well; someone she trusted, someone else to stand beside her in the face of a man who was little better - or perhaps worse - than a complete stranger. That was wise. That was good, even. Inyos did not relish being the subject of caution and concern, but if Sid could seek the aid of others against a potential danger from without, then perhaps she could learn to open herself to the same kind of aid against dangers from within. Inyos could sense that it would take quite some effort to convince her of that, but Sid was already on a healing path; one that Inyos was eager to walk beside her on.

He did not respond to her suggestion though, not immediately. He felt the buffer between them, the barrier to trust, the way that the mystery he presented made him a subject of wariness. She did not know him, and so she could not fully trust. Again that was wise. Again that was problematic. But how to earn her trust? How to relate to someone who had lived a life so opposite to his own? How to stop himself being an intimidating example of what Sid believed she did not have it in her to be?

"Thirteen years ago," Inyos began quietly, and it was his turn to struggle for eye contact. He didn't force himself; didn't try to hide his reluctance and shame. He wanted Sid to see it; wanted her to understand the honesty that he was trusting her with. "I became stranded on a world on the fringes of the Unknown Regions. My closest friend and I had been lured there by a call for distress, from a young woman we believed to be trapped, reaching out to us through the Force. When we landed, a dark presence wrapped itself around our ship, preventing us from leaving. It reached into our minds, and my friend -"

He faltered, his brow conflicting, but he forced himself to continue. "Mandan Hidatsa was the greatest man I ever knew. Not the greatest Jedi perhaps, but what he lacked in discipline and focus, he made up for in compassion and understanding. You knew him also; you know the kind of man he was. During the Jedi's waning years he fell in love with another of our Order, and when the Purge began he and she were able to be together. The Jedi Order had taught me to see love as a weakness, but slowly I learned that it was his greatest strength. I have never known anyone before or since whose heart has shone as brightly."

Shame slumped his shoulders. "The dark side on that world affected us both. It twisted him against me, and I -"

A sigh.

"I killed my best friend. I had no choice, I could not save him... but it haunts me. And for the years that followed, the decade I spent stranded on that world, it haunted me. I can feel it clawing away inside me, and I know that if I am not able to keep it at bay, it will make the worst of me."

His eyes finally rose to meet Sid's. "I do not wish to see your shadows become the plague to you that mine are. But if you fear them, you will only fuel them. So am I certain? Am I sure that helping you is what I want?"

Inyos' eyes had never looked so sad; the small smile he managed to muster only seemed to make it worse.

"Mandan and I began to save you once. I owe it to him to finish what we began. So I will stay, if you will allow it; and any help you can offer I will gratefully accept."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Mandan. That was the other guys' name. She remembered having trouble sayin' it back then and had shortened it to Manny or was it Danny? Not that she'd said it aloud or nothin' like that. Even as a little street urchin Sadie had known what was oversteppin' bounds when it came t' respectin' you're elders and such. Not to mention the fact they were frikin' Jedi.

He was dead now though? And Inyos had killed him thanks to some sort of Darkness? That was rough. Real rough. Sadie had done a lot of regrettable such things in her life but nothin' on that number. If there was somethin' appropriate to say at a thing like that, she had no damn clue what it was but sure as hells wished she did. If helpin' her out made Inyos feel like he was doin' some sort of good though? Well, who the hell was she to say no to that? Vitt and Atton and even Emelie had done their damndest to find things for her to do to make herself feel like herself again and there weren't no words to express how grateful she'd become for it all. Maybe was time to return the favor or pass it on or whatever phrase you wanted to use to describe the fact that she was feelin' like this was supposed to happen.

Either way Sadie felt like she was hearin' somethin' that Inyos didn't exactly throw out there for just anyone to hear. A phantom pain etched across one of them symbols that'd been gouged into her. The skin still felt odd some days, especially right after a shower or when she stretched certain ways, but there weren't pain anymore, not real anyway. As laserbrained as that sort of thing sounded on paper and as much as Sadie were the kind to give crap to anyone who actually believed in that sort of dren, maybe this was right. Maybe it was somethin' she honestly needed after everythin'. Outward wounds had healed well enough as they were gonna, maybe it was time to call in some reinforcements on the inside ones.

Her head nodded and Sadie found a half smile tryin' to form on her lips. "Y'now... I think this is gonna work out all shiny."

[Vittore Montegue]

* * *

He was going to kill her.

Well okay, maybe not kill. Maybe just, well, okay, so not mangle, or harm, or threaten, or anything like that. But he was going to glare at her real hard. Vittore was not a man who cared about a whole lot of stuff. He had a few things that meant something to him, but most of the stuff he owned was just crap. Most of his life was just junk that he didn't feel much for one way or another. That starfighter though? The thought of it gone, the thought of it taken, the thought of the girl he'd brought into his life, and his work, and his home just upping and taking it without so much as a word, without so much as a note? Either she'd thought it would be okay, and she just didn't know him anywhere near as much as he'd started to let himself start to hope the tiniest bit that she had; or she just didn't care. He wasn't sure which of the two was worse.

Part of him knew that it wasn't just about the Y-Wing either. There was something lurking in the background. What if something happened to you? How can I protect you if I don't know where you are? But his mind struggled to process that, struggled to come to terms with why he was so damn invested in some stupid little Shaddaa kid who he'd been paid to rescue, paid to protect. Yeah, she was his partner, and it had meant something to Vittore when he'd invited her to be that; meant something having her by his side on jobs; meant something when she'd stuck by him through that whole Black Sun face stealing imposter murder crap. He'd thought he could trust her. He'd thought he could rely on her. And then just gone. He'd walked into the ship, and there had been empty rooms and an empty Y-Wing bay, and just -

He was the first out of the speeder when Atton brought it into the bay. The repulsors had barely powered down by the time he'd popped the hatch and stepped out. He hadn't paid attention to the weird mystery platform on the way in. He hadn't processed the knowledge that Sadie had told Atton that there was a Jedi waiting for them on the station. Didn't think about that. Didn't care. His eyes found the Y-Wing. His eyes found Katie; also stolen. They avoided Sadie entirely, and found -

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Memories cascaded back, twisted and painful. A world utterly covered in darkness. His brother possessed by some undead Jedi freak claiming to be their mother. Ghosts, and sentient shadows, and Force crap, and nightmares. And then that guy. That Jedi. Standing on the ramp of the Coromon Headhunter with an evil yellow glow in his eyes. The blue shimmering shape of Dan-something leaping out of the dreadlocked Amos Iakona guy, one ghost tackling another ghost out of the Jedi's body and -

Why? Why? Why was this here? Why was this happening? Why had this crap followed him from one side of the galaxy to the other? Was one ruined life, one ruined family, one lost love, one ordeal of torture - was that all not enough? Why did it have to come here and screw with this new life he was slowly putting together for himself? And why did Sadie have to betray him like this, playing a part in helping it happen?

The anger faded from his eyes as they turned to Sadie. Sadness clunk behind for a moment, like a film of moisture left behind by a receding wave, but that too dissipated, leaving only one thing behind.

Disappointment.

"I'd ask for an explanation," he said quietly; his eyes didn't even manage to linger on her for more than a second before they fell away, staring at her hands instead of forcing himself to suffer all the extra emotions that her eyes caused. "But it don't feel much like y' think I deserve those."

He felt the Jedi shift; caught the motion off in the peripheral of his vision. "Aaah!" he warned, a hand snapping out to silence Inyos Aamoran before he had the chance to speak. His eyes sought the Knight out, glaring at him with more devastating intensity than a Death Star superlaser. "I will deal with you in a minute."

They turned back to Sadie painfully slow; one last attempt to look her in the eyes confronting her with the swirling hurricane of emotions that raged away inside him. All the usual gruff and roughness from his voice was faded. It sounded cracked. Broken. Wounded.

"What the hell, K'Vesh?"

[Sadie K'Vesh]

No no no. She wanted him to yell at her. She wanted him to be angry if anything. Not that she had exactly expected to see Vitt in the first place. Call for a ride had gone out to Atton alone, figurin' he could take Inyos back to Cloud City - maybe Nen too if he was still jumpy - and her and Katie could get the Y-Wing back home easy as cake.

Sadie had known the risks of takin' Vitt' Y-Wing without a word but some part of her had been sure it was golden. Vitt trusted her and she trusted him and she had figured, no - incorrectly assumed - that sort of trust would mean he would know that somethin' he took so much pride in would be safe with her. It was Nen's worry that he'd kill the both of them for takin' it and even if she was wrong 'bout the whole trust thing Sadie had been ready t' take the brunt of some boisterous shoutin'. She knew how to take that, knew how to conduct herself even if it went violent - not that she ever thought it would with Vitt - but she'd seen him mad plenty of times, just never had it leveled on her.

This though? This were worse. She couldn't flinch away an' just let the other person have a row until they were done. This involved explainin' herself, explainin' reasons she weren't quite ready to give voice to, didn't feel like she had to.

"Y'... Y' said I could..." Nope. No he didn't. "Said I could make use o' whatever I needed."

She tried to keep herself lookin' anythin' but guilty but it failed oh so quick like. Tryin' to keep herself lookin' at Vitt was damn near impossible so her eyes fell to the floor, to stare at the space betwixt their boots.

"I jus'... I thought it would be okay. Was plannin' on havin' her back right quick. No scuffs or nothin."

Her head turned just a bit, catchin' sight of the bottom edge of Inyos' coat before lookin' back. "'M sorry, Cap'n. Real sorry."

[Vittore Montegue]

That's what Cambrio and dad would say too, probably. That's what you said when you pulled a disappearing act on Vittore Montegue. I'm sorry. Free pass out of everything. Sure, they'd seem less sincere about it than Sadie did, but it'd comfort him about as much.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he did too good a job being the tough guy. The good soldier. The ruthless hunter. Who cares about hurting the feelings of the guy who doesn't ever show any? Who cares about offending the guy who shrugs off gunshots and insults with equal disinterest? It stung, though. That was the kicker. Yeah, Sadie was right: he'd said she could use anything. But if she'd asked? If she'd said a word? Hell, he would have flown her here himself. He would have stood there all threatening-like, just in case the damned Jedi tried anything. It was his job to protect her. Not just because Emelie paid him to, but because that was the promise that he'd made when he'd asked her to partner up. Work jobs, together. Celebrate victories, together. Face danger, together. Live, eat, drink, laugh, watch movies, hang out - together. That she was out here, poking around in this mystery place, rushing into peril, facing intrigue, and doing it all with Nen Lev'i? He'd get over the ship. He'd get over not knowing. But that? That stung.

Words played out behind his eyes, and he had half a mind to utter them aloud. You almost made me lose you, Sadie, and I would never have known why.

He ripped his gaze away. Forced himself to stare off over the top of Sadie's head. His shoulders sagged, a breath escaped as a sigh.

"Get in the speeder, Sadie."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

The speeder. Not the Y-Wing. Were the right thing to do on Vitt's part but damn if it didn't make it feel like the bottom of her stomach just fell right out. Well, more than it had before. Trouble was, Sadie was pretty sure it wasn't her stomach that was causin' the feelin' but some other organ a bit higher up in the chest cavity.

"Y' sure? I... I can come help put it away. We can talk..." bout what? Bout how you fraked this up?

She was graspin' at straws in plain view of everyone and while some part of her was downright unsettled by it. Angry at herself, even. This weren't like her. Beggin' weren't her style. Makin' amends weren't her style. Excuses and reasons and all weren't her style. Kriffin' Vittore Montegue, man. Of all the people in the verse for her to give a damn about he made a ton of sense but it still seemed so gods awful embarrassin'.

[Vittore Montegue]

"Get in the speeder, Miss K'Vesh."

Vittore wondered if the edge in his voice hurt her as much as it hurt him saying it. Hurt enough for him to wrench himself away and walk past her, just to make sure she didn't see. Set his sights on the Jedi instead. That was easier. That was angrier. Those emotions were far easier to deal with, far simpler to comprehend. He could feel the cold metal of his slugthrower pressing against the small of his back, tucked down the back of his jeans. Make me use it, he taunted at the Jedi as he advanced towards him. Please. Just one damn move. Make my day.

The Jedi didn't oblige. He stood silently, some weird sad frowny head tilt curious expression on his face, like some bemused puppy, not quite grasping what he was watching. Figured. He knew this Jedi. Knew he was one of those proper ones. Raised by the Order, back before the Purge. Didn't know jack all about the real world. Didn't know squat about how real people worked. This one especially, he was especially messed up. Years in isolation. Evil dark side voodoo screwing with his brain. Should've put him down the moment they'd met him. Dad would've done for sure, if he'd been thinking straight. Maybe now was the time.

"Talk."

It was a threat. A command. A demand. His hand twitched, settling on the grip of the slighthrower pistol.

"Start fillin' the air with answers, or I start fillin' you with -"

[Atton Kira]

"Easy there, Moof."

Atton's voice cut through the air like a laser, utterly calm but utterly commanding at the same time. He waited, watching as Sadie climbed her way into the passenger cabin of the airspeeder he'd rented. He'd watched as Vittore's words had made her crumple, like a droid drained of all power. There was more going on there than a disagreement between friends and colleagues. He'd suspected as much when Vittore had burst into his quarters an hour ago, borderline panicked that Sadie had disappeared. It was commendable in a way; reassuring that Sadie's allocated protector was so invested in her well-being; but unsettling at the same time for a man who'd spent his entire life keeping his protective affection for Saidra safely hidden away - something that Vittore was far less capable of, it seemed. As soon as Atton had been able to reassure him that she was safe, his attitude had mutated, and it was the resulting anger that Atton had brought him for. Atton would have liked nothing more than to demand to know what the hell his niece had been thinking, running off into danger like this; by letting Vittore take point instead, he'd spared himself the danger of losing the niece he'd only just come to know.

The result had been unexpected, though. What was supposed to be a bit of shouting to bop Sadie on the nose for her antics had turned into something else entirely, Vittore trampling like some clumsy mastmot all across feelings that he clearly didn't realise Sadie had. Now he'd turned, stampeding towards Inyos like a reek on a warpath.

He gestured to Nen Lev'i, standing off in the distance in a state of mild panic as he watched the events unfold, instructing him to get in the passenger seat that Vittore had vacated. With a heave, he swung down the driver side gull-wing door, letting is close with a resounding clunk and a hiss of atmospheric pressurisation. He strode forward with swagger, tongue playing back and forth across the inside of his teeth, but his calm belied an anger beneath that burned even hotter than Vittore's did. Vittore was angry over some colleague and roommate that he'd only just met: Atton's was the anger of an uncle whose niece had been lured to the middle of nowhere, not just by any Jedi, but by this one in particular. No, there would be no shootings by Vittore Montegue today. If anyone was going to put a bullet in Aamoran's skull, Atton would do it himself.

"Mister Montegue," he said, his voice turning quiet as he drew up level with the hunter. "I think it'd be f' the best if you take that fighter a' yours and go for a bit of a fly."

Vittore tried to protest; Atton didn't give him the chance. "You need to cool your head, an' we need t' make sure that two ships don't suspiciously arrive back at th' same time from th' same direction, on a vector that leads to the middle a' bloody nowhere." He paused a moment for effect, before adding the final bit of persuasion. "Don't forget who cosigns y' paychecks, Mister Montegue. Don't mistake this f' a request."

The hunter didn't seem happy about it; but Atton didn't need him happy, just compliant. A long lingering look passed between Vittore and the Jedi - more of a story there than the scant details that Atton was aware of, that was for sure - before Vittore grunted and marched away, barking an order at Katie to saddle up before he climbed up into the Y-Wing in a far more aggressive manner than should have been humanly possible.

Atton's eyes turned back to Inyos, contemplating the man that the years had been unnaturally kind to. "Y' never call," Atton quipped. "Y' never write. Honestly, I think we were all hopin' you were dead in a ditch somewhere. But since you're not -"

All the pretence of faux familiarity faded from Atton's expression.

"I think you and I need t' have a little chat."