Irtar handed the paperwork to the guard and sighed slightly, casting a sideways glance back down the hall to the cell that Andrew was in. A sigh escaped his lips as he ran over all that was discussed – well, told to him, but this man. Thoughts on good and evil and the principles of it all. Of falsities of greatness and grandeur of the truth that is hidden in the veil of reality. And it was one hard meal to digest.

“Really an odd one that one, right Mister Mal’Gro?” The guard said with a slight laugh as he worked on filing it. “But if you want to take him on, and take responsibility if he should pull anything funny like that again, whom am I to judge? But personally I would think of just leaving him to cool off! Man who just beats up guards at random must have a couple of screws loose in his head.”

“Well, I’ve got a responsibility to the Coalition to become as useful as I can become. And… well, I’ve got an odd sense that he could help me do that. And hey, isn’t it what we Jedi do best that whole feeling thing?” Irtar said with a weak smirk as he leaned against the desk, waiting for the man to finish running the files. “After all, there is a real thin line between genius and madness.”

“Huh. Well you be sure to remember that line! Makes the difference between the man who talk your ear off and who bite it off!” The Sinsangese man laughed again as he fetched a datapad and handed it to Irtar. “Here all the verification papers you need. Oh, and tell him that his friend was released because we had no evidence of him having much involvement and we were just going to have him for a witness. But now that you taking guard beater, no need to worry about that now.”

“Thanks… I guess.” Irtar said as he walked away shaking his head slightly. Was this to be his fate if he followed this road? To be considered mad by everyone else? Just another person who should be ‘locked away’? It was with a face of thought he entered the room and found Ahnk sitting in the cell, waiting.

“Well, I used my diplomatic powers to take you out under the condition that you don’t cause anymore trouble.” Irtar said as he came up and put his hand on the sensor for the force cage. “So please don’t cause any more trouble. I LIKE having the diplomatic thing for the Coalition because it helps me do some stuff the average guy can’t. Though ‘power over others is fleeting like the sand’ it’s really useful in the here and now to help stop the Empire and the Sith.”

Irtar gritted his teeth at the last part. To know how easily the Empire would allow their Sith friends to just simply kill one of their citizens… a citizen whom had done nothing more than give birth to a forcer that made his way to the side of the Jedi instead of the Sith.

With a click the cell doors swung open and Ahnk was free to exit. Irtar turned towards the cell and looked him over. “So. Your friend was set loose to and… where to?”

Irtar the Mad had a ring to it.

Ahnk smiled.

The wing design had been his own; inspired by the angled back of the kanbu beasts that she had so enjoyed, the wing bent down, folded out, and then bent around. Unlike traditional Imperial vessels, the weaponry did not depend on the angled cone shape of the vessel for its effectiveness; rather, the roughly spherical shape of the craft made the firing arcs much longer, allowing for the same distribution of weapon coverage despite an overall lack of weapons given the vessels relatively small size.

"How long until the cloaking device is prepared?" he asked as he walked along the line of the ship.

"The power distribution charts provided the scientists cause to halt the installation," the other man replied, "but in time they feel confident that they will correct the problem."

"I entrust in you to personally oversee the corrections," Ahnk said. Not needing to add that the scientists were to be killed when the task was complete.

Chang nodded. "It will take me some time to grow used to this method of communication," Chang told his master, who nodded.

'If you prefer, I can speak without speaking,' Ahnk said silently.

"No," Chang said, shaking his head. "I don't want you jumping back and forth. Talk. Don't talk when you have to. But you might as well just stick to the one and run with it."

'If you insist,' Ahnk replied with a grin. "The truth is, I have not had these muscles for quite some time. I am quite enjoying flexing them."

"I imagine," the Vong stated.

They reached the end of the platform. The wing was locked into place along the frame, and the arc robot lowered into place and began to secure it to the ships hull. Other robotic arms lowered from above, placing weapons and exterior relays on the ship. Relays were placed to bend the shield around the hull. Relays were placed to regulate the cloaking field. Almost all of the relays and weapons would need to be replaced once the generators and power systems were installed, as each ship would have unique nuisances that would require minor modifications to stock field assembly. That was the nature of mass production; working with the numbers in which his people were working, mistakes were commonplace and schedules were always missed. It was a daily annoyance, but little more.

The wing was now completely secured. The Sith looked above, watching as a second wing began it's descent towards the hull of the ship. Ahnk watched as a worker attaching one of the shield relays to the interior control circuitry slipped and lost his footing, frantically grabbing for anything he could reach to prevent his slide down the hull. He grabbed the freshly installed relay, but not tight enough to hold on. He began to slip, and with no other protrusions on the hull, slid until the edge, where he began to freefall.

Ahnk reached out his hand, catching the man. He held fast in mid air, confusion on his face. Ahnk allowed his sight to pass from the man to the relay he had just installed and then back again. When Ahnk realised the relay had bent, he let the man go.

He fell 50 stories to the bottom of the assembly plant. He did not survive.

Ahnk turned to Chang. He did not register any remorse. "Considering the..." Ahnk trailed off and looked at the bent relay. "...delays, when will this vessel be completed?"

Chang looked over at the relay himself. It was not badly damaged, and even were it, was a common component and easily replaced. "This run of prototypes should be complete within a month. Perhaps two, given time for... future accidents."

"I will entrust you also to ensure that those accidents are few in number and corrected immediately," Ahnk admonished, though he knew he didn't need to. Chang, for his part, nodded. "I would like to put these vessels to the test as soon as possible..."

Chang let his curiosity get the best of him. ”A test, my lord?"

Ahnk offered the bastard child of a snarl and a grin as his only response. There had been a time when he had looked up to her; admired, even idolized the strength and resolve for which she perused her goals. They were once goals to which he aspired; aims and drives he held as universal truths. It seemed so long ago. So many bodies and so little answers had passed between then and now, and the divide that had been created could only be bridged with bloodshed.

Ahnk raised his eyes to the giant hangar doors. Outside, one could see past the shield the emptiness of space. Emptiness had become something of a theme for him lately, as he surrounded himself only with the mindless devotion of armies and the broken soul of a once proud Yuuzhan Vong. There was no discussion, only a statement of facts and timetables. In that regard, Ahnk almost missed being a Jedi. They might not be good for much, but they were certainly quite skilled at endless conversation.

Ahnk turned, causing Chang to stop. The grace with which he had froze all of his momentum was inhuman... but that was to be no surprise. "I trust you have things well in hand."

Chang looked down at his hands before offering the Sith Lord a smile. "Of course. I will see to it that production continues unhindered."

"Very good," Ahnk replied, though he did it with a measure of disinterest even apparent to the Yuuzhan Vong. "Then as you have the situation well in hand, I will take my leave of you."

"As you wish, my lord," Chang offered in conjunction with a military bow. "If it is not out of place for me to ask, may I ask to where you are going?"

Ahnk did not answer. Something struck him as different about his right hand man; something different in the way he stood, in the way he walked... something that seemed to change as the conversation went on. It became more and more apparent even now when Chang simply stood and silently waited for an answer. But beyond him there seemed to be changes to the very landscape of the shipyard... a mutability of metal, swaying slightly against the force of a theoretically impossible wind. It seemed his entire world was bending and wavering before his eyes. He looked at Chang, who still stood waiting. Had he drugged him? Injected him with something while they walked? Ahnk was resistant to most forms of altering chemicals and was trained to avoid having his concentration so warped. He could summon no explanation for his world being so distorted, and as he fumbled for one it distorted further still. The vision before him gradually faded into blurry grey lines symbolizing something he could not make out, and nothing interrupted his focus on the unfocused world but a quiet, barely legible voice from the darkness of the empty light...

"Where are we going?"






Ahnk slowly slid his eyes open, allowing the white to gradually fade. Instead, he recognized the soft, Kuat green that decorated, in the most loose approximation of a definition, the hulls of his ship. The shipyard had faded into the back of his mind, though why he had remembered it in the first place, he did not know. The stillness and quiet indicated to him that the ship was moving... had he fallen under while on the planet's surface, he would have heard the idiot coalition and their constant stammering as they went about what they considered to be their lives.

"Glad to have you with us," a voice cut into his thoughts, and Ahnk turned.

The man frowned at him intently, his dark eyes trying to gauge Ahnk's current mood. As Ahnk had no mood to gauge, the two locked eyes and deepened their frowns. The man was still dressed like a diplomat; clothed from head to toe in a grey suit, trim white shirt tucked in at the neck and hands in the fashionable folds, red tie hanging from his neck. His appearance was... noticeable, and would need to be altered if he wanted to continue to travel with Ahnk. Dressed as he was, he commanded a certain amount of respect, which in the circles in which the two were bound to find themselves, would make him more of a joke then anything else. Moreover, Ahnk had serious doubts about the elasticity of his outfit should he find himself placed in a combat situation, which in the life of Rashanagok and friends, was an almost daily occurrence.

Ahnk, having fully sized him up, grunted. Irtar Mal'Gro had accompanied him on this voyage, and sat across from Ahnk in the back of the small vessel in which they travelled. Bill, his trusty sidekick, manned the controls, though for the most part, they needed no manning. Mal'Gro was seated comfortably, by all outward indications, but also seemed... frustrated, by something, or someone. It took Ahnk only a moment to figure out who the someone was. "I'm sorry," he offered, "I was ignoring you. Did you ask me something?"

"In fact I did," Irtar response, dryly. His frown had depended further, which Ahnk had thought previously impossible... if it cut any closer he was convinced it would open into a series of creased wounds. His stare seemed to hold a measure of anger, which Ahnk found comforting. "Where are we going? I sat in this ship for hours while you took a nap when we left orbit without you so much as giving me an inkling as to our destination, I think it's fair that given the amount of faith I've placed in your leadership and the risks I've taken to do so you at least tell me where we're going and why."

Ahnk nodded, slowly. "Sihoyguwa," he sated, drawing Bill to turn. "Are we still on the same heading I input on the planet's surface?"

"No," the ship replied, "while you were sleeping I decided to change our heading to crash into a sun, just for my own twisted amusement."

"I'd take that as a yes," Bill said, before turning back to the instrument panels.

"Sihoyguwa, raise all your stealth systems to maximum and keep one finger on the weapons, just in case," Ahnk said.

"Cloaks up, jamming and power masking are all charging, and weapons are ready..." the ship denoted, adding "but I remind you that I do not have any fingers."

"Well, keep your... I dunno, just keep the weapons at the ready," Ahnk said, sighing. He kicked up his feet, closing his eyes. "Take us to Bonadon, Sihoyguwa, maximum practical speed."






The simple things.

That was the key to happiness in life. To accept the things you cannot change and to have the courage to change the things you can. Focus... on the simple things. Take solace in the ability to change the changeable and accept that someday the unchangeable will be within your grasp. Enjoy small pleasures. Take silence when you can. Make love with your wife by the fire. Enjoy a glass of wine in moderation.

The glass in his hand gave a ring as the ice bounced about within its clear walls. He bent his head for a moment and allowed the aroma of the beverage to make a home inside of him. Each nostril flared and he allowed his grin to widen. Take pleasure in the simple things. That had been everything all along.

Ahnk sighed. Each ridge, and every bump, every tiny little packet of olfactory processors on her tongue felt so good. He bent his head down again, and she followed, resting at the base of his neck and breathing on the top of his spine. He took a sip of his drink, as her hands fell on his shoulders. He took another sip... life was good. Just sitting in a chair and enjoying the simple things.

It was subtle at first, but then began to increase in intensity. The pressure clamping down went up and his muscles began to twist and roll underneath his skin. He took another drink, allowing it to slide down his throat in that old familiar way. Cadinth Sesoma. It would kill you, but in the very smoothest and best of ways.

Ahnk had done his best to ignore the smoke. With the flavour of the sesoma on his tongue it was easy to avoid opening his nostrils, only doing so to enjoy the liquor in a different fashion altogether. He knew of the smoke and chose instead to ignore it. The old expression was, where there is smoke, there is fire, and Ahnk was far too comfortable to try and find the fire.

A finger opens and a finger curls closed. A palm presses flat, presses curved, and then leaves only emptiness in its place. Skin bends, folds over, and flattens up again. A man groans. A woman laughs. Alcohol is consumed. For Ahnk Rashanagok, life was good. He hadn't had a proper massage in... well, ever, and this would qualify in most books as a proper massage.

Only, of course, it wasn't.

"So..." the woman behind him asked, adding extra emphasis to one of her attacks on his shoulder blades, "is this good for you, my lord?"

Ahnk tried not to laugh again. "Oh, I am enjoying myself," he said, as she ran her fingers up his neck and began to make small taps across the back of his bald head. "Of course, a part of me cannot let me forget that this is not my real house, you are not really Montague, and this is not, in fact, a real massage."

"Oh, come now, darling," she said, dragging her finger on the top of his head as she stepped around the chair. "There will time for psycho analysis later. Can you not just let yourself enjoy the moment?"

As Ahnk's wife sat down on his legs, he found himself looking at everything but her. The walls of his house had caught fire, which mildly disturbed him. It had been a nice house; the house he had grown up in, actually. He could see the lake where he used to play as a kid. He suspected that the house would lose structural support in short order, which would be a true loss to the planet of Naboo. Montague was taking full advantage, kicking her feet and warming her curled toes on one of the nearby flames. Ahnk merely sighed. Such a nice house.

"Can't you just have some fun? For once?" Montague said, shifting around to make herself for comfortable and make Ahnk more uncomfortable. "Always so stoic. Melancholy. For one hallucination, why not try just having fun?"

Ahnk weighed his options carefully. On one hand, she wasn't real, and he was sure that making love to a hallucination would represent, or possibly cause, some deep, psychological issues. On the other hand... he didn't really care.

So Ahnk finished his drink in a gulp with gusto, tossing the empty glass into the flames. Montague laughed and tore his shirt, adding it to the pile of burning debris. And as his house melted around him, Ahnk and Montague melted together, consummating a marriage that never happened with a wife that was already dead.

Make love to your wife by the fire. Beats flying coach.







And Ahnk smiled.

There is no emotion; there is peace.

“Again.”

Taja’s breath caught sharply in her throat as she struggled to regain her foothold, her unsheathed toes curling through the loose topsoil of the forest floor in a frantic effort to uncover some form of miracle support buried within the earth. A deep gash extended along the full length of her right leg, beginning at her knee and etching itself through her skin until it reached her ankle, and a similarly proportioned smear of blood was imprinted across the jagged surface of a sizeable rock that rested near her feet. She watched as the fluid seeped into the land, creating frenzied patterns as it spiraled over the stone’s minute serrations in its descent towards gravity’s call, and it was only once she had diverted her eyes to the darkening moist patch on the ground below it that she realized the true severity of her injury. A dull, throbbing pain clawed its way into her tiny limbs, and it was solely through a strength derived from sheer will and the terrible fear of disappointing her Master that she finally managed to stand upright, using the very same medium that had wounded her to raise her body from where it lay prostrate upon the gravel.

Biting down into her lower lip to distract her thoughts away from both the slowly intensifying pain and the burning sensation in her eyes, heavy with tears, the girl nodded hesitantly, still swaying from one side to the other as she vied to steady herself. Her blonde hair was matted against her forehead and cheeks, both of which were red and moist from the heat of perspiration, and each of her inhalations sounded as ragged, arduous gasps. All around her were strewn rocks of varying mass, ranging from miniature yet hefty boulders similar to the one she had scraped her leg against during her fall to diminutive pebbles which, despite their slight weight, could cause quite the significant lesion upon impact with human flesh if hurled at great speeds – which was precisely what her Master had been doing. Readying her expression to mimic one of firm resolve, Taja stared fixatedly at the dark outline of a man standing some way ahead in the distance, his figure seemingly entrapped amidst a sea of floating rocks and debris which all hovered around him ominously, revolving as though he were the focal point of their orbits.

And then, in an instant that was over before she could recover from a single ill-timed blink, the rubble tore free of their airborne suspension, moving with startling speed and aimed directly at her as they rapidly gained momentum. Their motions were not in straight lines, however; no, that would have been far too convenient. Instead, they were propelled through space by some unseen force that was as precise as it was fond of chaos, as the rocks intertwined their trails and weaved through and past one another, never once colliding and yet traveling with such accuracy and unpredictability that it would have been impossible for any regular being to follow their progress even if their vision remained unhindered by the instinctive need to flicker their eyelids closed every now and then. Taja was no such ordinary individual; whereas most entities were able to glean insight into their surrounding worlds by openly observing its finer minutiae, she could see more by analyzing the countless crevasses they were forever incapable of accessing. She could visualize things they could seldom ever fathom, could envisage a reality they would never want to infringe upon in trepidation of all its impending horrors.

Taking in a last shuddering breath, she sealed her eyes shut.

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.

All at once, the universe reared to a sudden halt, although Taja chose to view it from a much slower perspective; to her, the transition was akin to striking yet macabre poetry, as the world’s limitless colours and hues melted and swirled together into a spectrum of altogether new, indefinable, yet notably lesser shades; all blending under, into and over one another, lacing through and in between the unconfined cracks and crevices to form a fluid amalgamation that was both anarchic and serene in its indefinite simplicity. During that single second, Taja felt as though she were in absolute control – not of herself, her situation, or even her surroundings, but of the entire cosmos in all its massive totality; as if she could pause at any moment and thus compel the universe to freeze in accordance with her will, forcing the colours to remain as they were in a state of bewilderment and confusion until she resolved to allow them to once again traverse the path towards their beautiful and final downgrade, towards the end, towards darkness. Because everything, everything existed through colour; it was the means by which the world operated through the eyes of all sentient life, the barrier preventing the blind man from ever transcending his comatose state into the land of the living, and the division separating the physical plane from the realms of the ethereal.

But the subconscious … the subconscious was monochrome.

She remembered, from a time that seemed to belong to an era entirely dissimilar from the reality she existed in presently, overhearing numerous tales in which her old townsmen would recount the dreams they experienced nightly. The citizens of Desauloris were a superstitious people and thus allotted great significance to the voyages their sleeping minds embarked on, adorning every one of these jaunts with flamboyant narrative and brilliantly romantic diction. No detail was too trivial, no single feature left without vivid illustration; it was almost as though they regarded these ventures as a gateway leading to perfection, to a utopian truth they could frequently attain in spite of its wholly fictional nature. They never failed to lavish all manners of sensation, smell and sound to their dreams, along with vibrant colour. Especially colour.

Taja had never understood this custom, for she alone could see the subconscious for what it was in actuality: a vast continuum of gray that was altogether boundless, limitless, formless, shapeless, and perpetually, miserably endless. It was a black hole of amorphous nothing, a separate reality in its own right in which thick tendrils of liquid, sinuous grayness extended throughout the non-space, reaching from naught to infinity and back again in a never-ending cycle of oblivion. What made it truly frightening was the fact that it was not only timeless, but also outstandingly real; the human psyche, with its innate tendency to reconstruct ambiguities into rationalizations that were easier to process, seemed to gather so-called information from the surface of this vacuum and reform them into images and sentiments that the brain could absorb somewhat more readily. It was a far less terrifying prospect when compared to the alternative, and appeared to be the mind’s secret technique for protecting its bearer from its hidden nature – a defense mechanism of sorts. Taja thought that maybe if people could look into the abyssal depths of their mentalities and view its subliminal innards for what they truly were, they would be too afraid to fall asleep ever again.

The waking world, however, was far more orderly in the arrangement and structure of its hues. Anyone could affirm the notion that the impression of everything they see remains embossed in their mind’s eye for a brief moment before succumbing to darkness; Taja, on the other hand, had learned to augment this phenomenon, by forcing the indentations to not only linger, but also increase in terms of clarity – much as a predator’s field of sight became focused and honed during nighttime. She could see the world in a neutral channel, midway between the randomness of the subconscious and the strict rigidity of vision, in which everything was swathed in various shades of grey. Living creatures had a considerably more refined and brighter aura than inanimate objects, the silhouettes of which were a much duller shade and far less distinct from the air around it. Her Master, with all the near-tangible power he exuded, emanated the most vivid glow of them all.

It was through a steady and continual scrutiny of these tones and their relative differences that Taja had learned to manipulate them over time; with her eyes still closed, she concentrated on the debris, all of which possessed roughly the same tint, until their outlines grew brighter and brighter, as if draining the colour from the atmosphere and foliage around them. Detracting their courses of flight would prove fruitless; she had attempted that during the previous assault, but they had abruptly reverted back into their initial, arbitrary arcs and pummeled her with twice the might as originally intended. This time, she would need to employ a different tactic; once the glow had intensified to a degree that it distinguished the rocks starkly from their surroundings, the brilliance of their outlines began to spread over their complete surfaces, contracting inwards with a force that seemed tantamount to pressure in the real world. The compression continued to weigh in on the debris, escalating rapidly and with outlandish strain until, finally, they reached their breaking point, shattering into thousands of millions of microscopic fragments as the stones imploded – all within just a mere few seconds from the time they had first launched into their trajectory.

There is no passion; there is serenity.

The shards of stone vanished into the atmosphere, disintegrating once more into the fine particles of dust from whence they had been formed, countless eons past. A ghost of a smile flitted across her Master’s mouth as he strode over to where she stood, hunched over in exhaustion, but dissipated within a fraction of a second and with equal covertness as Taja raised her gaze towards him. The apprentice’s jaded irises bored through into his beseechingly, as though in search of approval, but the only answer she received manifested itself in the form of a curt nod – a gesture which served to jointly express his satisfaction at her performance as well as to announce that their training session for the day had concluded, in concurrence with the swiftly diffusing glows of the sky as it heralded twilight. Hurriedly dusting her oversized and tattered beige robes, she stooped down to offer her master a bow, but at that exact same instant her knees appeared to decide that enough was enough. Taja’s eyes rolled back against her skull and her legs gave away beneath her weight, preparing to succumb to the welcoming pull of the ground ...

“You’re with me now, Taja.”

... But instead found themselves being lifted upwards, hoisted into her Master’s strong arms with a tenderness and affection that few mothers could possibly hope to rival whilst nursing their very first newborns. Taja wrapped her small hands around his neck for support, pushing her face into his chest as her senses became feverish and delirious from the pain in her leg, the earliest indications of infection already having begun to seep in through the open lesion. She whispered a muffled cry for help, not expecting anyone to hear, but even before she could voice the plea of desperation her Master had diligently set to work on subduing the damage before it could spread any further. As he turned on his heel and began walking towards their cottage home, her body rising and falling rhythmically with each of his quick paces, an inexplicable wave of calm washed over her, deadening the ache in her leg until she could no longer feel it and sedating her mind until all she her thoughts spun around her Master, and the serenity that paralleled his sheer existence. He brought tranquility and solace to her troubled mind, and numbed the permanent unease accompanying the voices that eternally plagued it.

She burrowed herself deeper into his robes, reveling in the kind sanctuary he provided; with him, she was safe, and far removed from the reality as a mock-worthy outsider she had faced previously. He had made sense and reassured Taja where not even her own parents could support her … perhaps because they themselves had believed it to be a farce, convinced that their daughter’s condition was a demonstration of their failure as parents and thus resigning to a life of self-pity and dejection instead. He told her that she was special, that she possessed a gift like no other; that the reason she could hear the cries of all that surrounded her was because she was one of the chosen few who had been preordained to fulfill the prayers of the meek, and that was why she was being trained, to enlighten them with the stanch face of salvation. To the child, however, most significant of all was the promise that he would look after her, the unyielding vow that he would take care of her come what may and spare her the humiliation and abandonment she had hitherto experienced throughout the entirety of her short life. He told her that she was special, that he loved her. And to Taja, no other truth could harbor as great a warmth and meaning as those simple words did, as he laid her onto her bed and pulled the covers over her thin shoulders. To Taja, nothing in the world could be more important than that mutual, unwavering trust. Forever and always, he had sworn. And so it would remain.

Later that night, as Taja rested on her side with her knees folded to press again the underside of her chin, she began to feel the initial tugs of a recurring anxiety graze against her psyche as an overwhelming blanket of foreboding slowly crawled over her, smothering her from every possible direction. It was a familiar apprehension, and one that served as a warning sign hours before its physical counterpart revealed itself as the sounds of her bedspread rustled softly in order to hail its newest guest. Taja’s small frame trembled beneath the weight of the adult as he lowered himself on top of her, her every muscle tightening indignantly in motionless protest against the customary heaviness. She lay unmoving, her arms straightened along her sides and her fingertips curled over the sheets almost as though in preparation for the nightly ritual, and as she felt the first telltale signs of intense pressure inside her lower abdomen, she closed her eyes and pushed her nails sharply into the mattress with as forceful a clench as her young childlike limbs could muster. The acuteness of the strain seemed to be amplified in accordance with her body’s involuntary dissent, and so she focused her mental faculties elsewhere, vying instead to number each and every single one of her Master’s quick breaths as they gradually became more and more rapid and painfully fervent.

After a short while, her mind began wandering closer to his, in a tentative and submissive attempt to seek out shelter by cautiously prying against the walls of its vast empty caverns and embracing the resonating nothingness that thrived within the vacuum of his psyche. As if in response, the fissures abruptly expanded in every direction around her spirit, enshrouding it within the creases of their palpable darkness and allowing her to nestle fearfully amidst the layers upon layers of silence they contained. It was her secret place to escape to during the more intense moments of her master’s visit; it was fitting, in a strange way, that she found solace within the hollows of his mind all the while he explored the very boundaries of her physical being. It was the most agonizingly beautiful of all sequences, and Taja did not understand why she always felt the most acute sense of dread during this routine; after all, did genuine intimacy not come at the cost of the most vicious and soul-shattering of pains ? It was the noblest and most supreme of all sacrifices, especially if it meant she could linger even a second longer in the void of his mind. And so it continued, minute after excruciating minute, until he had thoroughly finished proving his love to her with each cherished stroke, until her ribs were sore from having supported the added burden atop her chest for so long, until the rinds of her consciousness had peeled apart and disappeared into the core of his, melding together harmoniously amidst the throes of the night.

There is no death; there is only the Force.

Hours later, alone and enshrouded within the suffocating folds of the night once more, Taja reached out across the mattress and, clasping her fingers through an invisible hand that awaited her in the barren darkness, fell into a deep slumber.

“Mommy, where are you … ?”





The red mists of the ethereal desert Adhee traversed through swirled around her form and carried with them a thick trail of dust and sand, the displacements of which seemed to carve transient directions through the crumbling soil, guiding the apprentice closer and closer towards a specific location within the ill-conceived carnival. There was a wind quite ostensibly present, and a fairly strong one at that, but what made the phenomenon eerier still was the fact that there was no noise whatsoever to complement it; while it was wholly natural to overlook such sounds under ordinary circumstances, their total absence was gravely apparent in the setting she found herself in now. Her environment was completely, perfectly silent; visibly mobile, and yet utterly voiceless. This feature in itself made the situation all the more unnerving, but nevertheless the young Sith continued along the path sketched out before her, unseen though it was. For a second, Adhee was overcome by the distinct impression that, were she to voluntarily will herself to cease her step, her feet would refuse to abide by her command; she was here for a reason, and it appeared as though nothing would be allowed to distract her from that undeclared purpose.

Sound was not the only aspect lacking in this alien world; the concept of time seemed to have suffered the same fate. She had no means by which to glean how many minutes had passed before the fog enveloping her subsided, granting her in the wake of their collapse a more lucid view into her surroundings. The destination that the strange, living vapors had selected for her did not appear remarkable in any manner, however; as Adhee glanced around, she could discern no differences between the highlights of this amusement park in contrast with any other – except for, of course, the outlandish red glows that stained everything in sight, along with one other striking facet.

There, in the distance, hovered the silhouette of another woman.

As the girl’s field of vision gradually became adjusted to the bizarre hues of her new atmosphere, she squinted, attempting to garner a clearer image of the figure ahead of her. She had the marked impression that the presence belonged to none other than Taja, which also accounted for the familiarity she had sensed earlier, but all physical attributes hinted at a different truth. The woman, whoever she was, possessed a much greater height and stature than the Sith Master did, and her eyes were of the most peculiar shade of speckled yellow Adhee had ever come across. Fiery red waves of hair framed her long face, which had an almost scaly sheen to it, and by all definitions she conveyed an odd … serpentine quality. At that same moment, as though she had picked up on the apprentice’s thoughts, a thin forked tongue darted out from between her crimson-tinted lips, confirming Adhee’s suspicions. The red-haired woman began approaching, taking long, fluid strides that in a way seemed to resemble a biped’s answer to slithering. Once she was within earshot, she started speaking, her words slicing through the stillness of their shared, mute reality. “The world is your playground, Adhee,” she hissed, her tongue again flickering out. “And I am your reigning monarch.”

Just as her last word trailed off, the scarlet fog that had cloaked Adhee previously returned once more to enclose her, veiling her away from the anything and everything that surrounded her. As she struggled to regain her focus in spite of the haze, a familiar voice called out inside her mind, and along with it she could hear the funfair’s formerly dormant attractions coming to life all at once and altogether, their nauseatingly cheerful and repetitive melodies trilling deafeningly throughout the vast expanses of the wasteland and penetrating even the dense smoky barrier that stifled the Sith apprentice. Although she was incapable of observing what was happening, there was one very distinguishable noise that soared several decibels louder than all the other reverberations …

“Catch me if you can !”

... The unmistakable crunch of shattering wood, as the foundations of the park’s giant rollercoaster splintered and fell apart, sending the gargantuan structure plummeting down right towards Adhee.

The trip up to this point had been long and silent. Irtar didn’t dare really open his mouth. He met this ship before, and whatever AI they were using for it, she was a bitch. And he really didn’t know where to start with Bill, sitting and manning the station. And then there was Ahnk Rashanagok, who really did nothing but sleep the whole time. Irtar sat, stiff and silent, just watching the strange Jedi sleep.

Slowly, Irtar’s patience began to wear thin. It took some time but after a while, he couldn’t help but start speaking up.

“Ahnk, are you up?” Irtar asked Ahnk, as a slight snore escaped from him as he shifted a bit.

“I wouldn’t suggest that. He’s killed people for far less than waking him up.” Sihoyguwa pointed out in her annoyingly ‘higher-than-thou’ tone. It was either that or sarcasm coming from her. If not for the security systems Irtar would tear out her AI processor and tweak it to something a little less… grating. But alas.

“Yeah yeah….” Irtar kinda grumbled. “Well, does anyone know where we’re going? What we’re doing?”

“Well, one’s just along for the ride and I AM the ride. So good luck with that one.” Sihoyguwa retorted and Irtar swore that one of the servos suddenly started sounding like it was laughing at him as it revved through a data sequence.

“Well, you can at least answer one thing. Since you DO have a nav computer. Where are we going?” Irtar grumbled out. That Sihoyguwa always had the tendency of bothering him.

And it was at about this point that Ahnk stirred from his slumber.

"Glad to have you with us," Irtar said, watching Ahnk carefully to make sure he wasn’t irritated at being awakened from whatever dreams were tugging at him. Ahnk just kinda looked at him dispassionately and Irtar frowned a bit more.

"I'm sorry," he offered, "I was ignoring you. Did you ask me something?"

"In fact I did," Irtar pointed out dryly. His patience of being left in the dark of where they were going and what they were doing was being cut thin. His frown deepened even more as Ahnk seemingly missed it entirely. "Where are we going? I sat in this ship for hours while you took a nap when we left orbit without you so much as giving me an inkling as to our destination, I think it's fair that given the amount of faith I've placed in your leadership and the risks I've taken to do so you at least tell me where we're going and why."

Ahnk nodded, slowly. "Sihoyguwa," he stated, drawing Bill to turn. "Are we still on the same heading I input on the planet's surface?"

"No," the ship replied, "while you were sleeping I decided to change our heading to crash into a sun, just for my own twisted amusement."

Oh great. Now the ship was making jokes at the expense of their lives.

"I'd take that as a yes," Bill said, before turning back to the instrument panels.

"Sihoyguwa, raise all your stealth systems to maximum and keep one finger on the weapons, just in case," Ahnk said.

"Cloaks up, jamming and power masking are all charging, and weapons are ready..." the ship denoted, adding "but I remind you that I do not have any fingers."

"Well, keep your... I dunno, just keep the weapons at the ready," Ahnk said, sighing. "Take us to Bonadon, Sihoyguwa, maximum practical speed."

And just as quick as he came back, Ahnk was back under the veil of sleep and was gone again. Irtar leaned back in his chair a bit with a groan.

"We're going to Bonadon by the way." Bill said as he entered some information into the console. "Center of Vinda Corp and the Commonwealth."

To the Corporate Sector. To Bonandon. Irtar didn’t understand why they were heading to the capital of Vinda Corp. But then again, he didn’t understand why Ahnk beat up the guards. Or why he brought along this Bill guy. Or really why Ahnk did ANYTHING beyond the fact that he did them.

Like… what was wrong with his clothes? Yeah it was a suit but it’d seem perfectly in place on Bonandon! What would he rather have him wear? Jedi robes? Yeah, that’d be conspicuous. Or maybe they’d have to go to a Salvation Depot to get some cheap used clothes or something. Irtar loathed clothe shopping.

Irtar's mind began to wonder as he thought about how he had gotten where he was. Of his involvement in politics and his leaving the Jedi. Why had he gotten involved in the first place? It had been on Ilum with a meeting between the lead elements of the Coalition as well as some of the Jedi in the old sanctuary found on the planet. Amongst the once shattered shards Irtar had been thrust into the realm of politics. Originally he was just to simply scout his home sector to find potential allies; instead he became the olive branch. And the position held. And he changed from Irtar the Run-away Jedi to Irtar the Diplomat to Sinsang.

And now he here was. Irtar the Run-away once again. But had what Vodo said been true? That this path, though tempting, may lead to ruin?

Irtar wasn’t overly skilled in the use of the Force. Yes, he had finally been able to start pushing objects around and could even use it to push him beyond his normal physical capacity. But mentally? He had never really applied in ‘sensing auras’ and ‘feeling what was around him’. But even he couldn’t shake off the feeling of the aura that pulsed around Ahnk.

Like a snake made of darkness coiled around a core of light.

Irtar shuddered slightly and tried to push off the feeling. There was no point in fretting about what he now had no control over. He would try to catch some rest too before they got to Bonandon. After all, didn’t want Ahnk to be all rested and ready to go while he was barely awake.

It took some effort to try and push it all back. The weird feelings he was getting from Ahnk. The fact they were about to go headlong through Dragon Territory. The fact that it would be Sihoyguwa looking over him while he was asleep more or less. How damn hard the chair was and the fact it was bothering his back and would be uncomfortable to sleep in.

With a little bit of effort, he slowly pulled it down with him into the depths of his consciousness. Into the great swirling vortex that was the beginning of a dream that seemed to drag in everything that was reality until all there was that was left was a new day.

------------------------

Irtar stretched as he came out of his bed and looked out the window. Today was the day of the big school trip. The young boy happily donned his clothes and came running down the stairs. He sat down at the breakfast table as his mother grabbed a couple of plates and put them down.

“Well someone’s up early,” she said with a smile. Was it strange he couldn’t make out most of the details on the face? No. No. It was just that it was early in the morning. Hadn’t had his breakfast yet to wake up. It was the most important meal in the day after all.

“I don’t want to miss the bus.” Irtar said with a beaming smile. Normally he didn’t enjoy the long ride to the distant school but today was different. Today was a field trip day after all. The rest of the morning really wasn’t that important. Time flies by when you’re having fun. He never noticed as it seemed that his morning was on fast forward. As his Dad and older brother, Indarin, went out to do some chores. His little sister came down to get ready for school too, casting her brother a cold gaze since her class wasn’t one of the ones going and they had to do subtraction today instead.

The bus arrived and it seemed as if in a flash they made the long trek to the school. Another flash and he was on another bus, this time heading with his classmates towards their trip for the day. Irtar was playing games with his best friend, Dan from the farm on the other side of the ravine that marked the border between the Mal’Gro farm and the Hooldan farm. But once again, if not for how he was looking forward to what was going to happen he would’ve found it odd the way things were today.

The fact no one else seemed to have a face.

Or that everything outside the bus was just a bleak landscape of grey.

But that didn’t matter, today was field trip day.

With a slight groan, the large craft made a stop, and the children and a couple of teachers piled out of the bus before their goal for today. One of the few sites of any note to most people on the planet: the ruins of the Jedi Enclave. A group of archaeologists had come here to see what they could learn from the ruins of the ancient and nearly forgotten religion.

But it was all just older people, making long winded discussions about how they carefully lined off areas and how they carefully dug and how they carefully kept track of everything. Everything was done so carefully. Archaeology was about adventure! Of going through old tombs and dealing with booby traps! Just like in those holovids. Irtar’s young mind trailed off away from the discussion about ‘holocranes’ and glorified flashlights. Of old wars and philosophical differences.

The young boy managed to get away from the group, all enveloped by whatever, and made his way into the Enclave. Most of the hallways were threadbare. Nothing interesting. What kind of a gip of a field trip was this? Where was the fun? He’d rather be doing math than looking at old bits that MIGHT have been used to make something, or COULD have been this.

Irtar picked up a stick and began to run it along the wall, humming to himself a bit as he made his way along the ruins until he came across a collapsed doorway. He could see some light on the other side. But it definitely wasn’t big enough for grown-ups. Maybe this would be somewhere for him to show them how to REALLY do archaeology? With a bit of wiggling and tearing his shirt a bit he managed to make his way past the broken archway and into the hallway beyond.

The boy coughed a bit as dust was kicked up when his feet hit the floor. The hallway was dim, with a bit of lighting seeping through cracks in the ceiling. Just like in the old holovids. Finally some excitement! The boy gleefully started running down the halls, pretending all sorts of traps and the sort were going off over head. He swore some of those poisoned darts came just a bit too close.

Suddenly, the long hall turned and suddenly ended. Before, all that was left was a large steel door. Irtar looked up at it, and the slightest bit of fear began to seep its way into his heart. For a moment, if only that, he was hit by the instinct to run from this place. To return to the group and never look back. But the boy gritted his teeth. How could he be a great adventurer if he ran just at the slightest sense of fear and danger?

He stepped towards the door, and as if on instinct the old mechanisms sparked to life if for nothing more than this last task. With a grumble the door tried to get all the way but could only force itself half way before the ancient gears locked up. The boy cocked his head slightly, and poked at the door a bit to make sure it wouldn’t fall down on him like a big trap. When he felt confident it wasn’t trapped, the child made his way into the chamber beyond.

It was dark, and Irtar couldn’t help but feel chill in the room. He began to back towards the door where he came, not wanting to play adventurer anymore. And then, with a powerful swishing sound the gears holding the door gave. The child ran towards where the door was, but no matter how fast or hard he ran, there was nothing there. Then all of a sudden, he hit something. It wasn’t solid like a wall or a door, but… squishy?

All of a sudden, some of the gloom fell away to a brilliant crimson flash. And there before him stood a dark figure that seemed even darker than the rest of the shadow.

tell me youngling… tell me what you’re afraid of… tell me how to make you scream and writhe and cry out… tell me how to strike you down…

It seemed as if it was coming from everyway as the shadow made its way slowly towards him. Irtar tried to scramble backwards but there was nowhere left to go. No matter how hard he tried he made no progress. Tears began to streak down his face. This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. This isn’t what happens in the holovids.

And as if the shadow’s lightsaber held the weight of the universe, he raised it. Slowly. Agonizingly. And then, with a crash, it came falling down upon him. Irtar closed his eyes, afraid of the sting, afraid of the end. But it never came. Irtar tentatively opened his eyes.

The cave was dark, with only the slight light emanated from the crystals providing the light. Where was he? Oh yeah. He’d just come here from his house. Vodo had told him to finish his Jedi trials and face his family and he decided to try and finish his lightsaber while he was at it.

Irtar smiled and slipped the pieces of the crystal he’d just gotten into his robe when all of a sudden he heard a voice behind him.

“Oh pathetic Jedi fool….” Came the deceivingly sweet voice from behind him. In a moment Irtar snapped around, and brought his lightsaber to bear. The azure blade kicked to light as he spun the blade through nothing but air. A flicker of that mocking red hair caught in the air as she made her way along the edge of the cave. “Always so blind….”

“SHOW YOURSELF DEHOIR!” Irtar roared, bringing his lightsaber in a defensive stance in preparation for anything she’d try. And then all of a sudden a brilliant blade of emerald cut its way though the air, narrowly getting deflected by Irtar’s saber. And there before him stood his former master.

Vodo Baas.

“Have you learned nothing Irtar?” Vodo said in his normal, preaching tone, hobbling forward on that walking stick of his. Those yellow eyes staring, as if trying to bore a hole into Irtar’s soul.

“Always running….” Muttered Dehoir as she made her way from the shadows of the cave. Moving gently among the stalagmites, as if gliding. Then another voice called from the side of the room.

“You left us because you didn’t want to justify yourself. After all, because of you Mom is dead.” Called the voice of Indarin, from yet another side of the room.

“I thought you were going to become the next great Jedi,” came Leia’s voice as she stepped forward.

“I thought you were going to help build us a better future.” Now Chao came forward.

And then suddenly, from these forms emerging from the shadow came that voice. That familiar hollow, empty voice.

and i thought you were going to give me a scream…

And then, the world came crashing down upon him.

Irtar nearly jumped out of his chair with a start. He looked around the cockpit in wide eyed fear a moment and caught his breath. Bill kinda cast him an off gaze before returning to the controls, shaking his head a bit.

“Awwww, dreaming of me were you?” Sihoyguwa pointed out in its snide way. Irtar cast a dark gaze at the machine. “If I had a heart it’d be all a twitter.”

“And if I had a virus that’d put your AI down, it’d be in your disk drive. But I guess none of us can have what we want.” Irtar replied in kind. “Well, how long was I out? How much longer until Bonandon?”

Ooc: Pardon the quality. I am just now tackling my writer's block and my writing is only slowly reacquiring the emotion I had once poured into it.

IC:
It was a bitter and lifeless laugh that slipped forth from Adhee's parted lips, the final traces of what may have once been something connected to humanity. But in its wake it left an unutterable thing, a creature that resembled a human being and no more. It was but a hollow and empty shell, the withering remains of womanhood and its tantalizing secrets, the hissed and horrible secrets of a dark and ever-darkening past....

What life and vibrancy left in her eyes danced away with that final, deathly sound. Eyes so cold and dull, so lost... they found their way to the pale and shaking hands that she hardly recognized as her own. A shadowy remnant of something horrible remained there, stained forevermore on her once innocent, youthful skin. Her limbs shook, as though she were struck with an endless chill, and she lingered there. She was nothing more than a broken and hopeless figure, unable to comprehend the significance of the blood she had wished upon the world, and yet left slipping into an unfamiliar darkness for it all the same.

There were so many promises, so many empty promises that had given her secrets long left unsurfaced, had put knowledge in her lost and lonely heart. Oh, how those secrets had filled her empty soul! How they had been her every waking moment, her every tantalizing dream.... She had dared to dream those forbidden things, for they had been too grand and glorious to lay truly appreciated in the hearts of normal man. But she had wanted them, had understood and comprehended them, and that man... that man had promised them to her, and their fulfillment, and oh she had believed!

But there was no more of that. There would never be any more of that; no more hushed promises, no more softened secrets, no more words of an empty love that were meant only to decieve. In him she had sought a comfort, a belonging that may have once stirred the dormant hope that laid ever-lingering in the depths of her heart. But there was nothing now, for she was numb now to the workings of the normal soul, and in her there was something incomplete... something pained and dying. No, it was dead now, dead and gone. It had died with him. It had gone with him.

---

The woman was left traversing the dark and reddened desert of a land, her eyes almost empty as they remained locked on the scene before her. She hardly noticed the dust and dirt that swirled about her like a surreal and clinging fog, the arms of something intangible and unidentifiable reaching always for signs of life and movement. The earth crumbled at Adhee's slightest touch, her feet shuffling against the dirt and rocks as she still moved, and a merciless wind tore at her slender body perhaps in hopes that it would dislodge her from her path.

And yet despite all this she heard nothing. Not a rock, not a whistle, not a ragged breath. Around her the world was always shifting and moving, taunting her in every shape and form, and yet refusing to reach her waiting ears. It occurred to her that perhaps she should stop, turn around, and will herself to go another way; even though she could comprehend no form of exit from this place, it was apparent now that what was waiting for her would surely bring her no peace. And so, she tried to halt her progress and turn away, to fight this unnerving dream that surely struggled to break her as did everything and everyone else - but her legs would not respond, and in fact were not her own, for they continued to take her forward, and would have it no other way.

The place was a red that reminded Adhee of death. Of blood. She saw no sun, no light, nor any sense of life in this world, and though she was often unnerved by the presence of others, and other life, she found that there was nothing to bring her comfort in the lack of it here. Something in the hellish glow of this world reminded her of the blood that forever stained her hands, of the things in her past that enveloped her and would never leave, and of the emptiness that had remained when something precious had been ripped from the child she may have once been.

But no, she had been wrong. There was something there, in the distance, separated from the scene it stood amidst as though it were not meant to make contact with such an unworthy world. Adhee could hardly see this thing at first, but it was distinctly a woman, whether it lived or not. Yet the woman felt that her sense of loneliness did not fade, and alone as she was she continued her path toward this surreal and somehow familiar creature. She knew even now who it could have been, or who indeed it was, and yet she was brought no comfort, as she might have expected.

But it was not like Taja in some sense. It was taller, greater somehow, and possessed a different color of eyes and hair than her master truly did. Something about the figure conveyed some type of inhuman quality, as well, as though in some sense it were related to a lizard, or a snake. It approached Adhee amidst her thoughts and ripped through her mind with her painful speech, words that tore brutishly at the air that had until now been nothing but silence.

For a moment her words had been unclear, but as the last was left to trail through the air, Adhee could form them within her mind. The fog was returning as the words had to her, and she attempted to retain her stability, her sight of the world around her. But as she did there was a sudden uproar of sound and life, as though the world itself had been muted and then returned to its former quality. Her hands shot up to her ears in shocked response to this unexpected outcome, and yet through her need to push it all from her mind she could still hear the shrill and painful cry.

“Catch me if you can !”

As though these words had been a warning to her as clear and unmistakeable as could possibly be, Adhee's initial reaction was to look upward as though from surprise or fright. Through the fog and airy, swirling sand she could see something massive and ominous taking shape; she could hear, now, the cracking and creaking of the wood as the huge object came crashing toward her.

There was nothing she could do. She grit her teeth and went rigid, and without thought, without coherency in her mind at all, she waited for what would seem to be her sudden and unfavorable end.

From behind she approaches in silence, the Master does not stir, does not turn to face her, or utter a word, nor any action to indicate he is aware of her presence...


But, she knows he is aware.


Knows he can see every movement, feel her every footstep, sense her trepidation.

From the outside however, he is still, meditating, but still waters run deep, and not many could know of what was under the surface.


But she did.


All she can hear is the birds in the trees, a cacophony of hidden song emanating from all around, but even they seem to quieten as she stops and waits expectantly.

She can hear his breathing now, once hidden by the sibilant sounds , now revealed to her by her proximity.
It is a slow, relaxed rhythm, drunk with concentration.

Intoxicating, almost hypnotic.

She feels her own breathing slow down in reaction, as if the Master's sereneness were contagious.


She sits down beside him, and closes her eyes, letting the force take over.


And sees what he does now.



Her Master, herself next to him, the birds, once hidden and obscured by safety of the forest trees and their branches, now revealed in all their resplendent glory, each and every one.

Everything, but more importantly, her connection to it all.


"Good"


His voice is calm, deep and warm.


"Very good"

She says nothing but the small surge of pride at his approval is felt.


There is a long silence until he speaks again.

"You are getting better"

She nods simply in acknowledgement.


His voice guides her...

She senses him rise, and stand beside her...

"A deep inner tranquility is important, I sense you have many things on your mind"

She rises to her feet, and opens her eyes to see him standing before her, arms clasped behind his back...

He starts to walk, and she follows, listening to his words...

"Concentration is the key. If you are thinking about many different things at the same time you're wasting too much energy...concentration is everything...

A Good warrior succeeds in freeing his or her mind from bad thoughts..."

She says nothing but listens intently...

"All around us, the universe, this world is charged with the force, its invisible threads connect us with everything. In every leaf, in every ray of sunshine, and in every movement of air, however gentle it is...absorb it within yourself and make good use of it..."

She feels his touch upon her chest, as he presses his palm against her, as if to physically demonstrate...

"The breath is the foundation of both movement and mental energy"

He breaths deeper and loudly as an example...and she follows his guidance..

They stand in silence for a while, their eyes closed from concentration.

With no warning he turns to face her, the hiss of his lightsaber betraying its momentum, in the time taken, she has already reached for her own, and as the two blades of light meet, they crackle and snap in protest, lighting up the two figures in the glade.

His attack is parried, but her eyes are still closed...

The two stand there for a moment...

He smiles as he speaks...

"Good..very good"

"Remember Natalya, all strength is essentially concentration, it is only by concentration that a person can use the force..."



His words hung heavily in the air, and in her mind...


...and everything becomes lucid,








Natalya awoke, and slowly sat up straight...


She found herself struggling to place what she had just experienced...


It felt like a memory, but if it was, she had, until now, no recollection of this event...

...Was the force trying to warn her? or was it simply a glimpse of what lay ahead?


She felt her thoughts begin to run away from her...

Mentally , she composed herself and got up from her bed, and then after gathering her robe, went to fetch some Caff...


Already it appeared that today was going to be interesting...

Marriage.

It's a vicious thing, really. Born out of the strongest emotion of goodness and peace, the mutual sensation of love, marriage changes things in an irrevocable fashion. At first, it is an enhancement; every sensation shared, every memory created, every gesture of fondness duplicated a hundred fold by the visions we share of a lover, head to the nines, white lace and black tuxedo. Everything comes back to the that day; all the fights forgotten, the dishonesty and lies, the broken bonds and dalliances all forgiven. It's like watercoloring over a photo of war, with flowers blooming pink and purple and the radiant waves of sunshine streaming in. There are no more corpses.

Not at first.

But of marriage the expression that all good things must come to an end has never been more aptly applied. As new memories are created old memories are forgotten and the day that which you sealed yourself to your new life no longer defines the life through which you lead, as new experiences taint it the white lace a dirty shade of brown. You begin to remember all that you had forgotten, in what it was that kept you apart. You begin to forget the bonds that hold you and instead merely remember every time they were broken.

This is not a definitive process that appears all at once. Rather it is a slow manifestation of the very nature of survival instinct inside every man. Marriages, like people, rarely die violently and instantly. More often, they decay. A little at a time, but more with each interval. The tendrils around our hearts withering into seared black flesh, becoming a putrid liquid of necrotized flesh and then finally only into dust. Finally, we surrender to the nature of existence.

Love... conquers all.

A quaint expression, isn't it?

When Andrew Rashanagok rose from his sleep, he pondered the meaning. Love was seen to be a positive emotion; something shared between two, born of intimacy and mutually experienced joy. And yet, why was it necessary to conquer anything then? If it were to occur naturally, and in conjunction between two, would not it merely need to be accepted?

But it was never really accepted, was it? It couldn't be. It stood in contrast to the very nature of man itself. The urge and desire to survive, no matter the cost. No matter the cost. Man will succumb to depths from which there can be no redemption, no salvation or moral reclamation in order to ensure his survival. It was the base human instinct, and the overriding factor in all the decisions of man. To make one so opposed to that nature was very rare and in only a special breed of human.

And that was what love was. Surrender. Putting aside our predatory nature to rely on another. It was something diametrically opposed to the natural operation of our brains. It was that reliance on another for survival, the dependence upon them for emotional stability that so many found so... unacceptable. It was not something that we, as humans, did with disregard.

Trust.

It was, in most cases, too much to ask.

"Where are you going?"

Andrew finished pulling up his sock before he turned. Montague lay against the headboard of his bed, looking about as awake as he was. "I have to go," he said, beginning to put on his second sock. "I have to go back to the real world."

She sat up, pressing her back against the headboard and her shoulders against the burnt wall. "Was I not real enough for you last night?"

He smiled, not stopping what he was doing this time. "It is a shame that you are so limited as you are now. There was a time when I could have loved you."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes in a gesture he couldn't see. "You are incapable of love. You find the very idea of it to be repulsive." When he turned to her, she touched a claw to the side of her head. "Don't lie to me, Ahnk. I am inside your head, after all."

He turned back again, still smiling. Raising his shirt up above his head, pulling it down over his chest. "My name is Andrew."

"Oh, don't bother, Clark. You're not that pathetic little monk that you pretend to be and both of us know it," she said, growing frustrated... if a fiction of someone's imagination can, indeed, grow frustrated. "You are the Dark Lord of the Sith. The killer of Jedi and conquerer of worlds. You take what you want, damned be the consequences."

He shook his head, which made it hard to button up his shirt. "No. I am a different person now."

"You wear a different mask now, that's all," she said, bemusedly. He turned to witness her sick smile. "The tattoos that bore your hatred have been removed by time, replaced by lines of sorrow and regret. Instead of dark green lines of rage you bear the soft white stains of your tears." He turned, and she leapt for him, strong grip taking him by the shoulder. "Stop trying to hide what you really are. Your guise is as thin as my modesty, and as unconvincing."

He shook himself free, standing up. "I don't have to listen to this."

"It's her, isn't it?" she said, vitriolic. It was enough to stop him. "You're leaving me because of that heiress girl?"

Andrew turned to her, smiling in amusement. "I never took you for the jealous type."

Montague laughed, which was an experience all it's own. "She doesn't deserve what you're going to do to her."

Andrew took his turn to laugh. "What, exactly am I going to do to her?"

Montague laid back on the bed, relaxing in her impetulance. "Your hand is cursed, Andrew Micheal Rashanagok. You cannot save her, or the boy, or any of them. How could you, though? You can't even save yourself."

Andrew turned, looking down on her with divine amusement. "I am alive, with 8 organs, 3 limbs, and 2 students to train. You, meanwhile, are an anonymous corpse in space and disembodied lust. Which of us needs saving?"

She offered something between a grin and a snarl as her reply. "You can spend your day with billionaire bitches, but you know that you belong to me. Nothing can change that."

Andrew just softly shook his head, throwing his robe over his shoulder and turned for the door. "I can wake up. In fact, I think I'll do just that."

"Until you stop entertaining the ghosts of your guilt," she shouted after him, "you will never escape what you were and it will always be what you are! Always!"

"I'll take that," he said, as he closed the door behind him, "as goodbye."






"What are you smiling about?"

As Andrew Rashanagok woke himself, properly this time, he was unaware that his amusement had come with him. He looked across the way to the unmoving form of Irtar Mal'Gro, and then up to the very awake and alive and moving Bill, manning the ships controls and reading the displays in front of him.

"How long?" Ahnk asked, nodding his head in the direction of the sleeping Jedi.

"About an hour," Bill replied, turning in his chair. "He got tired of waiting for you, and passed out rather then have to listen the ship anymore... ow!" Bill said as his chair suddenly jerked on it's adjustments. That was enough to make Ahnk smile again. "Shall we...?"

"No, let him rest," Ahnk said, looking down at him. "He dreams the malformed dreams of trouble and transcendence, lost in a wash of color and shape emotional cries of the tortures of his past." When Bill looked at him like he was talking Azguard, Ahnk sighed. "He didn't sleep well."

"Right," Bill said, and then shot the man a smirk. "You were spying on his dreams?"

"I wasn't spying," Ahnk said sternly. "I think most people assume that looking into someone's thoughts is like picking the lock of a house and then opening the door and looking around. Most people don't bother to lock their doors and sometimes you don't even have to go in; their thoughts are like loud music, and you can hear them from half a block away. By the way; your wife is quite the looker. Do you think she could date a Jedi?"

Bill was no longer smirking. "Stay out of my head, Rashanagok."

Ahnk was smirking now, though. "Strong emotions are hard to ignore when your senses are attuned to understand such fluctuations. The winding branches of hurt inside Irtar extend far beyond his own head now. It is hard for me to ignore the bleeding of the leaves. Likewise, though, is love a strong emotion, painted as pictures of people and places across notes of music and empty spaces. When you have spent your entire life with sight, to close your eyes is... disconcerting."

"Well, don't look at me, then," Bill said, turning his shoulder and head away from the former Sith.

"How long until we drop out of hyperspace?" Ahnk asked Sihoyguwa, and then watched the starlines disappear as his vessel entered normal space. "Well, okay, disregard that question. Sihoyguwa, where is Bonadon?"

"I wasn't sure how you wanted to make your approach, so we're outside scanning range of the civilian traffic, waiting for your order to drop the cloak," the ship responded,and Ahnk put his hand to his chin.

"Sihoyguwa, what's the status of the planet's shield?"

"It's a day cycle on the business capital of the galaxy, what do you think?" the ship responded as sarcastically as it could manage.

Bill turned back to face Ahnk again. "I just want it on the record that this is a bad idea, and I don't think it will end well." To that, Ahnk grinned. "I'm serious. This is someone else's capital world. You really can't just stroll in as if you owned the place."

"Watch me," Ahnk said, kicking his feet up on the table. "Sihoyguwa, do not disengage the cloak. Take us in, and put the ship down at Docking Pad 47."

"Very well," the ship told him, stopping to add, "but I feel obligated to remind you that the use of cloaking devices while inside the planetary orbit of a non-aligned system has been priorly construed as an act of war."

But Ahnk was already asleep.







Ahnk was struggling with his words. Not sure why. Something something something familiar but foreign had attacked him, something something something had confused him. He felt wounded, somehow. Uncertain.

He turned. As he did he felt the strain as if he turned through hardening carbonite, to her.

It was her.

To her, he offered a short nod. “I believe that it would be best, if we did not ever see each other again.”





That was what he'd said. And at the time, he had meant it.

Even now, he couldn't help but admit that it was perfectly sound advice.





The ship landed with a soft thud. Irtar shot awake, eyes finding Ahnk and expressing some measure of surprise.

"We're here. I didn't bother to wake you, I figured you could use the rest," Ahnk said. He began to undo the cuff links in his robe. "There are a few rules you need to know on this planet. First, money is key. You can do whatever you want as long as you hurt only yourself and you reward the right people. Second, you don't talk. While we're here I've got the passwords and I'm basically your Ambassador to Bonadon. Thirdly, they don't like concealed weapons and a place like this can afford to scan for anything you may have, and, perhaps more importantly, they can afford to make sure you are accidentally lost and no one ever finds you. Take your lightsaber, leave all communicators and weapons here on the table."

Once he had removed the cuff links, it was clear to see why. Inside the hem of his robe had been hidden an air tank feeding into the cuff ink, and behind the link was a row of small, sharp darts. The cuff links were placed on the table that separated the two, joining two lightsabers, six daggers, 3 blasters, two dozen throwing knives, an ice pick, four grenades, a fold-out quarterstaff, an electric prod, and a flamethrower that was designed to fit inside Ahnk's prosthetic arm.

When Ahnk saw Irtar looking at his arms he made sure to roll down his sleeves well past his gloves. "Once you're ready to go, meet me outside, I'll be dealing with the welcoming committee."

Ahnk made a final mental count of his weapons checklist, making sure he had removed them all. When he was sure he had, he checked to make sure he had left his lightsaber affixed to his belt... not that he felt he needed a weapon, he just wanted others to know it was there. That done, he pulled his robe up and over his head before reaching up and opening the rear hatch, sliding the door open in that familiar spiral disappearance and then lowering the rear ramp.

"Sihoyguwa," Ahnk said as he took his first breath of that old familiar air, "drop the cloak."

The Sihoyguwa shimmered into visibility in violent waves, the field that refracted the light around it fading to be replaced by a metal hull that reflected it. It would be jarring to say the least and anyone looking directly at the docking pad may well have been blinded. Irregardless, it was certainly a transition that did not go unnoticed. By the time Ahnk had reached the bottom of the ramp, there was already a dozen security guards forming a rough semi-circle between him and the entrance to the city proper, an administrator stepping past them and regarding the dark robed man with a look of severe frustration.

It was very likely Ahnk had ruined the man's day.

"Operating a cloaking field generator within the planetary orbit of a Commonwealth controlled system is a violation of all Commonwealth policy and treaties as duly accorded by the League of Nations, Galactic Coalition, and the New Order. Any violent action you make will be considered an act of war," the man said, surprisingly quickly, all things considered. One would think cloaked ships popped up outside this man's door all the time.

"Were war my intention, you would already be dead," Ahnk told them in all sincerity.

The man shook that off... maybe regarding it as a boast or maybe shaking his head so that his security wouldn't open fire. "I demand to know why you have committed this most flagrant of violations."

"I'm here on urgent business... I came directly from Zanzabar," Ahnk told him.

The man couldn't hide his surprise. "How are the beaches on Zanzabar at this time of year?"

"There are no beaches on Zanzabar," Ahnk said, smiling. "The planetary orbit of Zanzabar prevents unfreezing of surface water up to a depth of a hundred meters, and so there are no large water bodies of any kind."

The man nodded, slowly. "And hows goes the narayan hunt? I've been told they are a lithe prey. Are you much of a hunter?"

"Not on Zanzabar, no. Narayans have been extinct for over 23 years."

The man nodded, and gave a hand signal to his guards. They allowed their rifles to lower. "Ahnk Rashanagok. It has been many years since you have seen fit to come to this planet. Your tattoos are gone."

"It's amazing what they can do with a laser these days," Ahnk replied, half kidding. By now, he heard Irtar stepping behind. "I require a meeting with Ms. Vinda. You'll take me to her. You can lose the guards; we have no intention of causing any harm."

"One cannot be too careful when dealing with the Sith," he said, and Ahnk stepped in towards him, closing the distance between the two considerably.

"I am not a Sith, and if I were, I would have more important people to kill then you," Ahnk said. His eyes were locked with the administrator's, who shrugged.

"I'll inform Ms. Vinda of your intent," he said, turning to leave.

"Something tells me she's already well aware of our presence," Ahnk told him, and the man turned around and he then cut the distance between the two with several large steps.

"Passwords or not and Ahnk Rahanagok or not, protocol has changed. Maybe you haven't noticed, but it's been a while since you've been here, and you can't exactly wander in ten years later and expect to get your way," the man said. Ahnk hoped he felt important. "You wait, and if she wants you brought to her, then I'll take you."

Ahnk frowned, turning to Irtar. Irtar did not seem impressed with Ahnk's password delivering skills. "Do not trouble yourself, young Jedi. Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design," he said, trying to put as much confidence in his voice as he could manage.

Something told him that Irtar didn't buy it.

"We're here. I didn't bother to wake you, I figured you could use the rest," Ahnk said. He began to undo the cuff links in his robe. "There are a few rules you need to know on this planet. First, money is key. You can do whatever you want as long as you hurt only yourself and you reward the right people. Second, you don't talk. While we're here I've got the passwords and I'm basically your Ambassador to Bonadon. Thirdly, they don't like concealed weapons and a place like this can afford to scan for anything you may have, and, perhaps more importantly, they can afford to make sure you are accidentally lost and no one ever finds you. Take your lightsaber, leave all communicators and weapons here on the table."

Once Ahnk began to remove his things, Irtar sat there for a moment unsure what to do. He kinda patted himself a couple of times as if to be sure then gave a bit of an off smirk. Irtar had never found the need to layer himself in weapons. There were things Irtar didn’t even KNOW someone could fit that many weapons on his person. He just watched as Ahnk felt around and fished out another weapon after another and put it on the table.

Irtar knew of street gangs with a smaller arsenal than what Ahnk was pulling out.

Irtar caught a glance of something metal as Ahnk put down some sort of hose. What was it? Some sort of bracer or some kind of hidden holster? Irtar pushed it from his mind as Ahnk pulled up his sleeve as he noticed the young Jedi watching him.

"Once you're ready to go, meet me outside, I'll be dealing with the welcoming committee." Ahnk said as he made his way towards the landing ramp. Irtar ran himself over one last time just to make sure before he went out there. He took his lightsaber from his jacket pocket and looked at the large thing.

For hours he had poured effort into refining the blade. For weeks he had worked on balancing the hilt so it would work fluidly. For months he had been scrounging materials and delicately putting them together. And he hadn’t once thought to get some way to connect it to his belt.

Irtar quickly just threw the thing and his pocket, so the end of the thing was sticking out. At least it wouldn’t be a hidden weapon.

“So Bill, you coming or keeping this bucket of bolts company?” Irtar asked Bill as he made his way towards the ramp.

“Nah, you go on ahead kid.” Bill said as he began to go through the post-flight checks to make sure everything was alright. Irtar gave a prompt nod in return and made his way down the ramp and out into the big world of Bonandon.

He was taken off guard at first by Bonandon. He was expecting something like Bei-diang and he was somewhat right. It was just so much… bigger. Everywhere he looked there were towering buildings as far as his eyes could see. Like great giants trying to challenge one another for the greatest height. Always stretching themselves up just a little further to compete with one another.

But then the rest of the scene started to sink in and get processed. More accurately, the dozen or so security guards currently surrounding them and Ahnk’s discussion with the administrator. Irtar froze up where he was and jut watched it with an odd sense of distance with the scene. There wasn’t really anything positive he could do and anything would likely be negative so he just chose to keep his distance from it.

"I'm here on urgent business... I came directly from Zanzabar," Ahnk told him.

The man couldn't hide his surprise. "How are the beaches on Zanzabar at this time of year?"

Zanzabar? What the frell is Ahnk talking about? Irtar tried to figure out what the pair were discussing.

"There are no beaches on Zanzabar," Ahnk replied to the administrator, as Irtar walked on digesting the discussion. "The planetary orbit of Zanzabar prevents unfreezing of surface water up to a depth of a hundred meters, and so there are no large water bodies of any kind."

The man nodded, slowly. "And hows goes the narayan hunt? I've been told they are a lithe prey. Are you much of a hunter?"

"Not on Zanzabar, no. Narayans have been extinct for over 23 years."

The man nodded, and gave a hand signal to his guards. The soldiers finally stood down giving Irtar the chance to catch a breath. "Ahnk Rashanagok. It has been many years since you have seen fit to come to this planet. Your tattoos are gone."

They were speaking in some form of code? What history did Ahnk have with these men? Irtar didn’t really know anything about his new master. All he knew was that his name was Andrew Rashanagok, and that people generally called him Ahnk. That he is tied to the Rogue Order and was at the funeral of Gash Jiren. But who was he?

"It's amazing what they can do with a laser these days," Ahnk replied, as Irtar began to walk up. Now that the guards no longer had their firearms at the ready, Irtar wasn’t as hesitant to move forward. "I require a meeting with Ms. Vinda. You'll take me to her. You can lose the guards; we have no intention of causing any harm."

"One cannot be too careful when dealing with the Sith," he said, and Ahnk stepped in towards him, closing the distance between the two considerably. Irtar didn’t know whether Ahnk was going to knock his block off or what. He knew that if he was in that position he’d probably at least yell at the guy. But Ahnk was in the position, not him. Irtar was at least smart enough to leave Ahnk control of the situation.

"I am not a Sith, and if I were, I would have more important people to kill then you," Ahnk said in a manner that caused a shiver to go up Irtar’s spine.

"I'll inform Ms. Vinda of your intent," the administrator said as he turned to leave. Irtar raised a brow and looked at Ahnk and back to the other.

"Something tells me she's already well aware of our presence," Ahnk told him, and the man turned around and he then cut the distance between the two with several large steps.

Vinda? As in one of the Vindas? The richest family in the galaxy? Irtar actually lost a bit of colour at the prospect. The Sinsangese always spoke of the Vindas with a sense of fear. He commonly heard about how ruthless they were in their dealings. That if they wanted something that ‘they’d have it no matter what got in their path’.

"Passwords or not and Ahnk Rahanagok or not, protocol has changed. Maybe you haven't noticed, but it's been a while since you've been here, and you can't exactly wander in ten years later and expect to get your way," the man berated Ahnk. "You wait, and if she wants you brought to her, then I'll take you."

Irtar’s face twisted into one of worry after the administrator yelled at Ahnk. As the man went back inside, Ahnk turned to face Irtar. "Do not trouble yourself, young Jedi. Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design."

“Quoting old Sith Lords. That puts me at ease about this whole thing.” Irtar muttered with a stingy bit of cynicism on his words. “You just appeared at Vinda Corp’s headquarters trying to meet one of THE Vindas and you just mouthed off the welcoming committee.”

“The fact they didn’t just ventilate you surprises me.” Irtar said as he looked over at where the administrator went. He quickly looked back over at Ahnk. “But I’m curious about why we’re here. You were short with me before. Why Bonandon? What’s your story with the Vindas?”

With this, Irtar just began to go all out. “Actually, I don’t really know much about you beyond that you’re Andrew Rashanagok. If we’re going to be doing this master and apprentice thing, we should try to know something about each other. Like, how you can do something like this on one of the most powerful planets in the galaxy and still live. I couldn’t have even gotten away with that on Naboo! Well, y’know, before the Order was disbanded and everything.”

Irtar suddenly realized he was embarking on one of his rambles and cut himself off before he said anything further that could anger the Jedi Master. The man was kind enough to take him in and under his wing and here he was questioning him like this. He was just a padawan should put more faith in Ahnk and his abilities.

“I’m sorry it’s just… well, I’m a bit edgy with this whole thing.” Irtar muttered as an addendum to his short spiel. “I don’t mean to question you but I just would like to know what’s going on.”

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had control of myself and I guess I’ve just gotten used to having some command and control with things.” Irtar confessed to Ahnk with a bit of a shy smile appearing. “Been too long since I’ve had a ‘Master’ in my life. I’d like to thank-you and hope you can put up with me as I get back into the boots of a padawan instead of an ambassador.”

The last Master Irtar had met was Vodo and the meeting wasn’t the kindest of times. The two had a fight in his office and tore the thing apart as the pair duelled. The ironic part was that Vodo had come to make sure Irtar wasn’t planning on walking the dark path after leaving the Order, and now the entire Order was on the path he was. And in fact, Irtar felt a slight coldness about his former master.

One Master ditched him, another he fought, and now he’s with this mysterious man. At least life wasn’t dull.

“Quoting old Sith Lords. That puts me at ease about this whole thing," Mal'Gro told him, gruffly. Ahnk didn't respond... he'd meant it as a joke, of course, a small barbarism meant to break the tension, but Irtar did not seem amused. He seemed like a very serious guy, Irtar Mal'Gro. Ahnk wasn't exactly the life of the party himself, but this guy seemed to wear a frown as a permanent accessory.

“You just appeared at Vinda Corp’s headquarters trying to meet one of THE Vindas and you just mouthed off the welcoming committee. The fact they didn’t just ventilate you surprises me," Irtar said, looking beyond Ahnk to where the Vinda Corporation's administrator was using one of the wall mounted terminals to, presumably, speak to his superior. said as he looked over at where the administrator went. He quickly looked back over at Ahnk. “But I’m curious about why we’re here. You were short with me before. Why Bonandon? What’s your story with the Vindas?”

"Well, back when I..."

But Irtar didn't give him any time to reply, cutting in with a fairly heated monologue born of his frustration.. “Actually, I don’t really know much about you beyond that you’re Andrew Rashanagok. If we’re going to be doing this master and apprentice thing, we should try to know something about each other." Ahnk found it difficult to disagree with his logic, but had no oppurtunity to interrupt the flow of his discourse. "Like, how you can do something like this on one of the most powerful planets in the galaxy and still live. I couldn’t have even gotten away with that on Naboo! Well, y’know, before the Order was disbanded and everything.”

Ahnk found himself nodding. For one thing, he wasn't sure he had gotten away with the stunt he'd pulled; for all he knew the aide was calling in an orbital strike on his ship. Secondly, he wasn't aware that the Jedi Order had disbanded... it had been quite some time since he'd been on Naboo. Well, really been on Naboo.

“I’m sorry it’s just… well, I’m a bit edgy with this whole thing," Irtar said after a short pause. Ahnk nodded in understanding. “I don’t mean to question you but I just would like to know what’s going on. It’s been a while since I haven’t had control of myself and I guess I’ve just gotten used to having some command and control with things," Irtar said. He turned to Ahnk and smiled, in what the former Sith took to be a gesture of affectation. “Been too long since I’ve had a ‘Master’ in my life. I’d like to thank-you and hope you can put up with me as I get back into the boots of a padawan instead of an ambassador.”

Ahnk certainly understood his position. He was frustrated with Ahnk's cloak and dagger ways, not truly understanding anything about the Rogue Jedi Master and how he had developed any of his outlooks on the worlds at large. Part of Ahnk certainly sympathised with him, and he considered, strongly considered, removing the darkness from the way in which he acted and enlightening Irtar as to his history and current disposition.

But there was another part of him, ultimately serving as a larger or more commanding portion of his conscious consideration, that knew that that would be a mistake. Ahnk knew that he could not be Irtar's friend; in fact, it would more then likely be better that he be Irtar's enemy, as that would almost naturally happen through the course of what was to come. To open doors it was required that Ahnk first hit Irtar with them. That was how he had trained Kahn, how he had trained Bane Nothos and Janus, how he had learned to train people the way to be warriors. Was there a better way? A way to talk to Irtar about his feelings and drink herbal tea and burn candles? That was the Jedi way, but it was not the way of the warrior. And since Irtar was here, he had made the decision to become a warrior. The road to Ahnk's friendship was a different path.

Perhaps, in time, Ahnk would come to accept him as a warrior, and as a friend. But not today.

"First," Ahnk said, tightening the black glove on his artificial hand, "understand that you are not a Padawan. Padawans are children who learn how to use their mind to read maps and how to talk through tears. We are not learning how to be better people and get in touch with the living force. I am going to train you how to defend yourself and I am going to train you how to hurt other people. If you want to learn how to be a diplomat, the Coalition is a great spot for you. If you want to learn how to be a pacifist, reform the Jedi Order. I am going to train you how to be a warrior. We are at war, regardless of whether we see our enemies or whether they kill us in our sleep. We must prepare ourselves for the battles to come. If you do not want to be a warrior, then you are wasting both of our time."

Ahnk closed the distance between the two, looking Irtar directly in the eyes. "As you are not here to be my Padawan, I am not here to be your friend. You will be my apprentice. I will teach you everything that you will learn. Through this process you may come to hate me. You may come to view me as an enemy. That is fine. I intend to destroy everything about you that provides an avenue of attack for others, and this is a complicated, grueling, and painful process. You will suffer for it, and surfer hard. Know that in the end you will emerge a better warrior then ever you could be before. But once I have remolded your combat abilities, you will be able to get what you have been searching for."

Ahnk relaxed his stance somewhat, leaning back on his feet. "This commitment that I ask of you is not easy. If you so desire, you may stay here. The Lady Vinda has many interesting tales of commerce and intersystem diplomacy to help you pass the time. I will continue on my missions regardless, but in truth, I have brought you here not just for your benefit, but for mine. I am undertaking a difficult crusade that will begin when I leave this world. It will be an opportunity for you to learn from me but also an opportunity for me to learn from you, and better gauge what your current abilities are. I do not get the impression that you are useless; you may not be a manufactured combat technician, but you have a desire and will to live, and that could prove useful as a measure to my madness."

Ahnk looked beyond Irtar to the world behind. For the most part, Bonadon was asleep; the sun hadn't raised to the point where most would begin their day. He was sure, however, as he was always sure, that the evil here did not sleep. He could feel it's touch, faint though it may be, like tendrils in the clouds, waiting to descend upon the world as darkness. It gave him a foreboding feeling; if it had followed him here, it knew where he would go. And it would be waiting.

"Understand," Ahnk said, laying his gloved hand on Irtar's shoulder, "understand that this is not a fight that one can wage alone. For all that you require my training understand that I need you. I need what is inside you, Irtar, your heart, your will, your strength inside. You have a fire within that has long since left my old bones. I need you, Irtar, despite how unnatural it may seem, despite how it contrasts against all of your inner defenses, despite how everything about you screams that it is wrong, I need you to show me faith, Irtar. I need you to trust me, Irtar."

Deciding to show him some faith, Ahnk reached to the edge of his glove and pulled it from his hand. Below, the five mechanical struts which substituted themselves for his fingers. Each one curled and bent, flexing muscles that were not there, moved by mechanisms inside the flat, metal palm-like control box at the bottom of his wrist. He held the hand between them, offering it to Irtar Mal'Gro.

"Shall we stand together?" Andrew asked him, hand waiting for Irtar's answer. "Or is this the end of the beginning of our relationship?"

"First," Ahnk began after a brief moment, "understand that you are not a Padawan. Padawans are children who learn how to use their mind to read maps and how to talk through tears. We are not learning how to be better people and get in touch with the living force. I am going to train you how to defend yourself and I am going to train you how to hurt other people. If you want to learn how to be a diplomat, the Coalition is a great spot for you. If you want to learn how to be a pacifist, reform the Jedi Order. I am going to train you how to be a warrior. We are at war, regardless of whether we see our enemies or whether they kill us in our sleep. We must prepare ourselves for the battles to come. If you do not want to be a warrior, then you are wasting both of our time."

Ahnk closed the distance between the two, looking Irtar directly in the eyes. "As you are not here to be my Padawan, I am not here to be your friend. You will be my apprentice. I will teach you everything that you will learn. Through this process you may come to hate me. You may come to view me as an enemy. That is fine. I intend to destroy everything about you that provides an avenue of attack for others, and this is a complicated, grueling, and painful process. You will suffer for it, and surfer hard. Know that in the end you will emerge a better warrior then ever you could be before. But once I have remolded your combat abilities, you will be able to get what you have been searching for."
This caused a chill in Irtar. This process did not sound too pleasant. But it was more than just the not-so-hidden threat of harm that caused it. Did he intend to do as the Jedi did? To strip him from human to something else? Is that what was required to be a wielder of the Force? Irtar found it a tad bit ironic actually. He had heard the Rogues were entirely different from the Order. That their ethics and techniques were entirely different. And yet both preached forgetting what you are to become something else…

But what is the point to being a Warrior if you have nothing to fight for?

Ahnk relaxed his stance somewhat, giving Irtar a slight bit more space. "This commitment that I ask of you is not easy. If you so desire, you may stay here. The Lady Vinda has many interesting tales of commerce and intersystem diplomacy to help you pass the time. I will continue on my missions regardless, but in truth, I have brought you here not just for your benefit, but for mine. I am undertaking a difficult crusade that will begin when I leave this world. It will be an opportunity for you to learn from me but also an opportunity for me to learn from you, and better gauge what your current abilities are. I do not get the impression that you are useless; you may not be a manufactured combat technician, but you have a desire and will to live, and that could prove useful as a measure to my madness."

"Understand," Ahnk said, laying his gloved hand on Irtar's shoulder. Irtar held his breath for a moment with the unexpected contact but Ahnk continued, "understand that this is not a fight that one can wage alone. For all that you require my training understand that I need you. I need what is inside you, Irtar, your heart, your will, your strength inside. You have a fire within that has long since left my old bones. I need you, Irtar, despite how unnatural it may seem, despite how it contrasts against all of your inner defenses, despite how everything about you screams that it is wrong, I need you to show me faith, Irtar. I need you to trust me, Irtar."

Irtar raised a brow as Ahnk reached to the edge of his glove and pulled it from his hand. What was there was not a gauntlet or some other hidden device. Well, it was a hidden device but of a different nature. It was a cybernetic arm. An older more mechanical model, lacking the flesh textures of new designs. Hard steel and gears exposed for the world, well at least for Irtar to see. Ahnk offered his hand towards Irtar, causing him to pause for a moment.

"Shall we stand together?" Andrew asked him, hand waiting for Irtar's answer. "Or is this the end of the beginning of our relationship?"

Irtar was still a bit off his guard at this point. Ahnk’s admitting of needing HIM of all people. It was a new experience for Irtar that a teacher should need a student as much as the student needs the teacher. Irtar had chosen to leave the Jedi to follow his own path. And not that the Jedi were gone, he had no choice but to step forward. And yet here he was again, asked to let go of everything that made Irtar Mal’Gro, Irtar Mal’Gro. His family, and friends. His commitments. His wants and needs.

But Ahnk was one of the only Masters left in this dark time. The others had vanished into the mists. And if ever Irtar was to gain the strength to fight the Sith, and the destruction they stood for this would probably be one of his only chances. But what would it entail? How much suffering was he willing to commit himself to in order to gain the might he needed?

Irtar could back down. Ahnk had given him this chance to do so and even now stood there stoically watching and waiting for the errant Jedi to choose his path. The long path of painful self-taught lessons, like those learned on Budpock with Aretsuya, or to learn from one who’s already learned them? To give up himself in order to do what he must?

Slowly and hesitantly, Irtar’s hand came to Ahnk’s. And when their hands connected, Irtar vowed to once and for all see this through to the end. To complete his training as a Jedi properly, and learn the uses of the Force. And most importantly, to learn how to fight the Sith and be one of the few lights in the dark.

“Someone must stand with you, and at least I have reason to fight.” Irtar said with a painfully forced smile. “To whatever end, so long as it’s a good one.”

“SO, want to know of my training and what I know?” Irtar said, quickly turning and walking towards the landing pad. Despite what he had just done, he didn’t feel overly safe around Ahnk. There was that lurking shadow about him that just caused shivers to run up and down his spine. It wasn’t as bad as when he was near a darksider but it didn’t make him comfortable either.

“Well, before I found out I was able to wield the Force, I was going to be an engineer. Have a knack for robots but I’m pretty solid with most things mechanical in nature. Like I built my own portable training course. Nothing too intense but better than what they had on Naboo. Got the nickname ‘Irtar’s Run’ from those who saw me running around on the thing in one of the courtyards.” Irtar shook his head as he realized he was beginning to rant on about something Ahnk was likely not interested in. “WELL as for training in combat and the Force… well most that I know is from personal experience and searching.”

“Y’see, I first was under training by Master Organa-Solo, but then she ran off to the Force knows where. Didn’t have the decency to tell me so I got to enjoy a nice period of time where I was left to try and pick up different lessons from the other knights and padawans who would bother with me until Master Vodo Baas came along. Well, he was a Knight at the time but he ran me through some combat training. He was the one who sent me off to Dantooine where I decided to leave the Order.”

Irtar purposely skipped over the events of his mother’s demise and of his outcasting from his family. It was something he didn’t really enjoy talking about. The Empire had accused him of her death since he was the only Jedi in the area. Since the Sith get to fly under the radar in the Empire, Dehoir got away without even a question.

“Well, after I left the Order I generally trained myself. Body training, working off of different drones to try and get down some of the saber skills, fighting the occasional Sith that is intent on killing me. Y’know, regular stuff.” Irtar rambled off before casting a glance back at Ahnk.

“Oh, and getting pummelled by Vodo for leaving the Jedi Order. I managed to fend him off… for a bit.” Irtar said half-heartedly, his hand instinctively going to his side that only recently finished its recovery. You’ve never been hit with a stick wielded by a crustacean until you’re hit with one powered by the Force.

It really amazed Irtar how many fights he’s been in. He knew knights that had been in less combat than he had been in. Between different Sith and mercenaries, Irtar had run quite the gamut so far. Femme fatales to blind men, Irtar was surprised he was actually still alive.

In the distance, Irtar noticed a Vinda Corp sign as the sun slowly sauntered upward, casting illumination upon it. Then all of a sudden a realization came to Irtar, whom turned away from the awakening city to look at the somber Forcer. “And you’ve not yet told me why we’re on Bonandon. I take it since you seem to know the Vindas, or have a connection with someone up there, that you’re here for a favour or something?”

Irtar’s eyes drifted towards the large doors that the administrator had passed through earlier wondering exactly what was going on. Was he seriously asking the Vinda family if they had permission to enter? Or did they just plan to wait in there until him and Ahnk got bored and left?