“So it's decided then,” Vance said watching Recon who sat at the other side of the Council table. “I will travel to the Corellian system and confront Lupercus. With any luck, I'll be able to talk him into showing the Sith Order more of his seemingly precious time.”

“His lack of presence at the Temple is affecting his standing within the Order.” Recon said, nodding.

“I am aware,” Vance replied, his jaw clenching as he thought for a moment, gloved fingers rubbing at the tip of his chin. “While his position is in no danger, I don’t know how long we can continue to keep him involved in this Council with his constantly being absent. Some of the Apprentices have some rather, shall we say, amusing theories as to Lupercus’ true whereabouts...”

“The dead rumors?” Recon chuckled, shifting in his seat.

“Indeed.” Vance smirked, clearing his throat. “None-the-less, I will make contact. As it is increasingly hard for him to make the time to speak with this Council, I will go as representative and speak with him directly.”

Vance stood, pushing the chair backward on the stone tiles. “I trust you will be able to keep things under control while I am away?” The Sith Master asked, raising an eyebrow at the older man seated across from him. “I will contact you as soon as I am able, and will report the situation concerning Lupercus and how we are to proceed.”

Recon nodded as Vance walked from the Council Chamber. Once outside in the hallways of the Temple, Vance replaced his hood over his head, pulling his cloak around himself. Walking casually, the Sith Master could only think about the delicate situation involving Lupercus; the man, despite his position, was concerning himself more so with his livelihood as Corellian Protectorate, while allowing his responsibilities to the Sith Order to wane.

“Apprentice,” Vance said, motioning to a young man that walked the hallway. “Go to the landing bay, inform the shuttle crew that I will need my craft prepared for travel immediately.”

“Yes, Master Jas.” The young man replied, bowing before he turned about face, rushing down the corridor at a quick pace.

Vance turned, taking another corridor, the one that would eventually lead him to his personal chambers. Once he had gathered a few belongings, he would leave for the Corellian system. The mission itself would be simplistic, for Lupercus would not deny Vance a meeting; but then, that remained to be seen, and the other man’s true disposition concerning the Sith had to be evaluated, in order to propose a satisfactory outcome to the situation.

Within the last several months, Vance had been taking leave from the Temple at increased intervals. This was due to a considerable amount of reasons, all of which remained somewhat guarded and Council orientated; yet even then, Vance had been working through with his own plans, seeking to establish some seed growth of his own design, for the sake of the Order, but more importantly himself. How such plans would come to develop remained to be seen, but Vance knew that no matter what happened, he would be ready to take advantage of the galaxies shatter point when the time finally came...

“How ya doing?”

Ahnk looked up at the figure approaching, regarding him with a cold nod.

“It’s your big day. Nervous?”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Yeah… yeah, death will do that to you. I should know.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

“…exactly. There’s nothing happening.”

Ahnk let out a small sigh, kicking out his feet and making himself more comfortable before he responded.

“That’s the thing about death. You live your entire life… decades, centuries of preparation… living your life inside the box, getting ready for this big white light... and then when you go, its not there. Everything you were working towards turns out to be just a big empty galaxy. No pearly gates and cloud top cathedrals, just dead air.”

“It’s pretty damned boring.”

“Why do you think I didn’t stay dead? It’s not too late, you know. I can clone your body an…”

“Fuck no. Absolutely not. I hated this existence once, under no circumstances am I going to walk in and hate it again.”

“Okay. But the options there, if you decide that floating around is just too boring to keep doing.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, anyway.”

For a moment, the two looked over the ruined landscape of Ossus, the planet still bitterly bearing the scars of the conflict that had wrecked it for most of its tumultuous history. A gentle precipitation had begun, but neither one felt a drop. Lost in the visage of what could have been…

“So… Rogue Jedi Order… dissolved.”

“Yeah… oh, sorry, did you want some consultation?”

“Are you kidding? I was the worst Rogue Jedi in the history of the Rogue Jedi. I was worse then Kamon Vondarinach.”

“Hey, don’t hate on Kamon… what he lacked in any discernable form of skill or ability, he made up for in exuberance and his go-get-em attitude. Sure, he has an annoying tendency to get captured, but at least he’s out doing shit.”

“Unlike me. Point taken.”

“Don’t hate on you either. Being a Rogue Jedi isn’t something everyone can do. You needed some time to nurture your inner Rogue. Given time, I’m sure you would have been outrageously badass.”

“If you think so.”

“It’s not too late, you know. You can still find out for yourself… lift the mantle…”

“Why?”

”What the fuck do you mean, why? Why do you think?”

“I mean, is the mantle even worth lifting? You fought a war, man… you lost. How could I hope to make a difference?”

“Honestly?”

“Brutally.”

“It’s not worth it. There is no point even bothering to fight for a life that is more fair or equal. The nature of being has been evidenced and that nature is cruelty, not compassion. Hatred, not love. The nature of being is evil… and nothing I did or you do will ever make a single ounce of difference.”

“Then the question remains… what is the point?”

“Because the fight is there… sooner or later, someone will take that mantle. If not you, someone else, and they’re going to get hurt Andrew, they are going to get hurt very, very badly.”

“And I won’t?”

“I don’t care about you… you’re so disconnected from any memories of a positive existence there is no possible way for you to ever experience any more loss then you do now. You don’t GET hurt. You ARE hurt. You are the human equivalent of spoilage.”

“Nice of you to make me a simile so simply.”

“It’s a gift. Besides, I know you don’t want to stumble around as you have. Why not go out with a bang, eh? If you’ve gotta go take every one of them with you kinda thing?”

“It’s something to think about, if nothing else.”

“Something else to mull. Why not use your worthless life and try and make a difference for some people instead of just feeling sorry for yourself? There are some kids down there that are lost. Completely and utterly bozared. As completely and utterly pathetic as you may be, at least you can serve as an example of what NOT to do.”

“You always know how to cheer a guy up, don’t you?”

“I’ve never been one to treat people with a velvet glove and a light coating of sugar… you know me better then that. And you know, deep down, you should be better then what you are. And yet you aren’t. You are to blame for that. You, and only you. And you are the only one who can fix it. Do right by…”

Ahnk suddenly furrowed his brow, standing from his seat amongst the rubble and walking to the edge of the hill… he watched slowly as the procession continued, people filtering in, the dull hues of the destroyed Ossian grey, and the sorrowful black of the mourners gathered there, when out of the corner of his eye he caught a hint of red, fiery and rebellious against the muted tones of the day.

His eyes locked on it, transfixed, then traveled from the visible traces of hair to the face of the person, the woman, to whom it belonged. She was sad and yet she also seemed… disconnected, almost as if she didn’t know if she should really be here. And yet, there was something about her that absolutely belonged… something, very familiar…

…and Ahnk turned back to the spectre behind, eyes wide.

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

“Oh that is such a copout answer. You never see me pull that kinda shit.”

“Oh no? Who do you know that is more stoic and discompassionate then you?”

“…well, no one. But that’s not the point! How long have you known?”

“Well, since I died.”

“Okay… I guess that’s a good excuse for not telling me before now.”

“I used to be a pretty hip guy…”

“I find that hard to believe…”

“…and I always knew that there was the… possibility.”

“Could there be more?”

”Likely. I didn’t have time for a daytime talk show paternity test.”

“I can…”

“Hell no! You stay away from any and all of my genetic material. I don’t trust you, you clone crazy bastard.”

“Okay, fine. But I have to tell her.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Exactly what I said, why. Why do you feel the need to tell her?”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“Of course she deserves to know. But what are you going to do? ‘Hello, I’m Ahnk Rashanagok. You might know me from my time as a genocidal galactic despot. I know we’ve never met, but I just wanted to let you know that you’ll never meet your father, since he’s the stiff in the box. Wanna go for coffee?’ Something like that?”

“Okay… point taken.”

“Just do me a favor and stay away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Why the hell not?”

“Call it… The New Ahnk. ‘Why not use your worthless life and try and make a difference for some people…’”

“I was talking about random people! Unimportant people! Not people that matter.”

“Do you see her? Can you see her from here? Do you see the same thing I see?”

“I see her.”

“The sense of emptiness? Of looking for something? She doesn’t know why she’s here, but she’s here. Coincidence?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so. I only believe in coincidences when I lose a lot of money in the process.”

“You’re being very difficult about this, Andrew. I have to admit that I do not like the new you, and I wish to disassociate myself from it immediately.”

“This is something that I need to do.”

At that moment, a sheer of metal fell, separated from its’ perch amongst a broken building by a sudden gust of wind. It fell to the dirty, dusty surface of Ossus with a small clang, the familial sound of metal meeting concrete echoing across the broken world. But neither spectre nor spectator moved an inch… the twisted shard of metal went unnoticed as both appraised each other, silently willing the other to relent.

“…okay, fine.”

“Thank you.”

“But I swear to god, if you hurt her, I will make every single moments of your life an agony the likes of which will leave you begging for me to kill you.”

“How do you plan to do that, oh great master spectre?”

“I might be dead, but I’m still more powerful then you could possibly imagine.”

“I forgot.”

An uneasy silence once again settled over the two warriors. Both were long past their prime, but for a moment, Andrew Micheal Rashanagok thought that they could still make a difference. Even if that difference was only one person.

Even if that difference was only her.

Only her…





It did look that way at the time.





”I want to thank you for everything you did for me.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“What?”

”Thanking people.”

“So? I’m trying to be humble.”

“Well, forget it. Get to work.”





Once you got into the capital, it wasn’t so bad.

The almost systematic destruction of Ossus had not spared the capital cities by any means… quite to the contrary. But despite Gash Jiren’s attempts to create a paradise, Ossus was still very much like any rimward world… money talked, and bullshit walked. It was no coincidence that the most expensive real estate on Ossus was rebuilt first… it was, rather, the nature of man.

The monolithic towers, felled years ago by awe inspiring missile impact, had been rebuilt, and in typical fashion, had been rebuilt ten meters taller. The crystalline beauty of Ossian shopping centrals had been carved anew, shimmering the reflection of the over glow of the nearby commercial district, awash with a neon radiance both marvelously extravagant and radioactively unhealthy. The world was a study in contrast, as the central complex of life existed almost entirely removed from the decomposing remains of what had once stood, the reminder left in rubble of what had happened casually surrounding the walking simile of life… moving on.

Moving… backwards…

It was at the edge of the city that the funeral was being held. Procession marched through the streets and to the outermost reaches of the residential district, to a small clearing among the rubble where “Gash Jiren” lay. This was no doubt done on purpose… probably by someone who knew Gash Jiren, who knew that he would delight in drawing out the hobknobbing elite in their Sunday best to trudge through the ash of their old home. It was something that Ahnk had to smile about.

Of course, not only the gathered crowd were in mourning. Between him and the effigy were numerous people of all color and creed, either trying to make their way to the proceedings, or generally trying to look disinterested. Ahnk had to offer a small nod to the latter… the cynic, sick of the cyclical attention to Ossus… sure, today Ossus was in the news, but in a week? Where were the Jedi to rebuild his home? The camera crews to film the poverty around? Gash Jiren this, Gash Jiren that…

In and amongst the crowd was a cacophony of emotion… anger, fear, and sadness, permeating the air, making every breath more difficult… choking him, the sorrowful wails of those who knew him and threats of revenge from those who served them, one harmony resonated over all… a bitter hatred intermingled with a youthful determination and aggression… a feeling Ahnk knew, all too well… he found, in light of who he had become, he could not shut it out.

Rather, he walked directly towards it.

“You are angry,” he said, not as a statement but hardly as a question either. It was made as an educated yet uncertain observation. Accompanying it was his hand, finding the man’s shoulder and soaking in the waves of his projected emotion. Ahnk used it as a crutch, holding him… and himself… stable as he searched deeper. “Hmmm, and not without reason, either,” Ahnk appraised. He opened his eyes, drawing them level with the man, seeing from close range the rage contained therein… burning behind his pupils, leaking out in ways he didn’t understand…

Ahnk had to step away. Silently, Ahnk offered his hand, but unsure of what to make of his strange guest, the man could not take it. So Ahnk rescinded, instead giving him a short nod. “There is a vessel docked here… Sihoyguwa. If you wish to do something with your anger beyond just perturb passersby, you’ll meet me there.”

Once again, Ahnk found himself… distracted. He brushed past the troubled man, half-turning to excuse himself but ultimately unable to draw his head away…

Away… from her…

Ahnk sighed, drawing closed his eyes as he stopped. Surely to someone who had lived as long as he had, the mysterious aura of a young woman could no longer draw him so? Did the curiosities of youth truly hold any interest for them? How could they?

But when he opened his eyes and saw her… well, how could they not?

As he walked the ruined planet, feet leaving the refurbished city center and crossing back, once again, to the dirt and dust beyond, his eyes never left her. Though he drew closer to her with each step he was no closer to understanding what she was feeling… so confused was her essence in the force that Ahnk, an experienced master in the arts of its understanding, wasn’t sure how she felt…

Ahnk wondered if she even knew how she felt.

Ahnk imagined that was why she was here.

Finally, there was no Ossus left to cross. The woman… whatever her name… was only a few feet away, and if he wanted, he could reach out… but, first thing was first. “May I sit down?”

“There are plenty…” she began, but then she turned her head to him and trailed off.

“…of empty seats, yes,” Ahnk offered, finishing her thought and then adding that “there are none free besides a woman as fascinating as yourself.”

Unwilling, or unable, to summon a retort, she merely nodded, and allowed Ahnk to sit down. He was tempted to offer his hand, but after the earlier experience with another frustrated force user, reconsidered. “So… did you know him? The deceased, I mean.”

She brought her eyes up to his… a mixture of emotion across them, impossible to read… wary uncertainty and a frustrated confusion… when she spoke sh was not forceful, but hardy passive about her frustration… “Why do you ask?”

Ahnk grinned. She was tricky… and that was not altogether a bad thing. “Do you always answer a question with a question? That’s bad form, you know.”

“How ya doing?”

Ahnk looked up at the figure approaching, regarding him with a cold nod.

“It’s your big day. Nervous?”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“Yeah… yeah, death will do that to you. I should know.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

“…exactly. There’s nothing happening.”

Ahnk let out a small sigh, kicking out his feet and making himself more comfortable before he responded.

“That’s the thing about death. You live your entire life… decades, centuries of preparation… living your life inside the box, getting ready for this big white light... and then when you go, its not there. Everything you were working towards turns out to be just a big empty galaxy. No pearly gates and cloud top cathedrals, just dead air.”

“It’s pretty damned boring.”

“Why do you think I didn’t stay dead? It’s not too late, you know. I can clone your body an…”

“Fuck no. Absolutely not. I hated this existence once, under no circumstances am I going to walk in and hate it again.”

“Okay. But the option's there, if you decide that floating around is just too boring to keep doing.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, anyway.”

For a moment, the two looked over the ruined landscape of Ossus, the planet still bitterly bearing the scars of the conflict that had wrecked it for most of its tumultuous history. A gentle precipitation had begun, but neither one felt a drop. Lost in the visage of what could have been…

“So… Rogue Jedi Order… dissolved.”

“Yeah… oh, sorry, did you want some consultation?”

“Are you kidding? I was the worst Rogue Jedi in the history of the Rogue Jedi. I was worse then Kamon Vondarinach.”

“Hey, don’t hate on Kamon… what he lacked in any discernable form of skill or ability, he made up for in exuberance and his go-get-em attitude. Sure, he has an annoying tendency to get captured, but at least he’s out doing shit.”

“Unlike me. Point taken.”

“Don’t hate on you either. Being a Rogue Jedi isn’t something everyone can do. You needed some time to nurture your inner Rogue. Given time, I’m sure you would have been outrageously badass.”

“If you think so.”

“It’s not too late, you know. You can still find out for yourself… lift the mantle…”

“Why?”

”What the fuck do you mean, why? Why do you think?”

“I mean, is the mantle even worth lifting? You fought a war, man… you lost. How could I hope to make a difference?”

“Honestly?”

“Brutally.”

“It’s not worth it. There is no point even bothering to fight for a life that is more fair or equal. The nature of being has been evidenced and that nature is cruelty, not compassion. Hatred, not love. The nature of being is evil… and nothing I did or you do will ever make a single ounce of difference.”

“Then the question remains… what is the point?”

“Because the fight is there… sooner or later, someone will take that mantle. If not you, someone else, and they’re going to get hurt Andrew, they are going to get hurt very, very badly.”

“And I won’t?”

“I don’t care about you… you’re so disconnected from any memories of a positive existence there is no possible way for you to ever experience any more loss then you do now. You don’t GET hurt. You ARE hurt. You are the human equivalent of spoilage.”

“Nice of you to make me a simile so simply.”

“It’s a gift. Besides, I know you don’t want to stumble around as you have. Why not go out with a bang, eh? If you’ve gotta go take every one of them with you kinda thing?”

“It’s something to think about, if nothing else.”

“Something else to mull. Why not use your worthless life and try and make a difference for some people instead of just feeling sorry for yourself? There are some kids down there that are lost. Completely and utterly bozared. As completely and utterly pathetic as you may be, at least you can serve as an example of what NOT to do.”

“You always know how to cheer a guy up, don’t you?”

“I’ve never been one to treat people with a velvet glove and a light coating of sugar… you know me better then that. And you know, deep down, you should be better then what you are. And yet you aren’t. You are to blame for that. You, and only you. And you are the only one who can fix it. Do right by…”

Ahnk suddenly furrowed his brow, standing from his seat amongst the rubble and walking to the edge of the hill… he watched slowly as the procession continued, people filtering in, the dull hues of the destroyed Ossian grey, and the sorrowful black of the mourners gathered there, when out of the corner of his eye he caught a hint of red, fiery and rebellious against the muted tones of the day.

His eyes locked on it, transfixed, then traveled from the visible traces of hair to the face of the person, the woman, to whom it belonged. She was sad and yet she also seemed… disconnected, almost as if she didn’t know if she should really be here. And yet, there was something about her that absolutely belonged… something, very familiar…

…and Ahnk turned back to the spectre behind, eyes wide.

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

“Oh that is such a copout answer. You never see me pull that kinda shit.”

“Oh no? Who do you know that is more stoic and discompassionate then you?”

“…well, no one. But that’s not the point! How long have you known?”

“Well, since I died.”

“Okay… I guess that’s a good excuse for not telling me before now.”

“I used to be a pretty hip guy…”

“I find that hard to believe…”

“…and I always knew that there was the… possibility.”

“Could there be more?”

”Likely. I didn’t have time for a daytime talk show paternity test.”

“I can…”

“Hell no! You stay away from any and all of my genetic material. I don’t trust you, you clone crazy bastard.”

“Okay, fine. But I have to tell her.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Exactly what I said, why. Why do you feel the need to tell her?”

“Don’t you think she deserves to know?”

“Of course she deserves to know. But what are you going to do? ‘Hello, I’m Ahnk Rashanagok. You might know me from my time as a genocidal galactic despot. I know we’ve never met, but I just wanted to let you know that you’ll never meet your father, since he’s the stiff in the box. Wanna go for coffee?’ Something like that?”

“Okay… point taken.”

“Just do me a favor and stay away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not? Why the hell not?”

“Call it… The New Ahnk. ‘Why not use your worthless life and try and make a difference for some people…’”

“I was talking about random people! Unimportant people! Not people that matter.”

“Do you see her? Can you see her from here? Do you see the same thing I see?”

“I see her.”

“The sense of emptiness? Of looking for something? She doesn’t know why she’s here, but she’s here. Coincidence?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so. I only believe in coincidences when I lose a lot of money in the process.”

“You’re being very difficult about this, Andrew. I have to admit that I do not like the new you, and I wish to disassociate myself from it immediately.”

“This is something that I need to do.”

At that moment, a sheer of metal fell, separated from its’ perch amongst a broken building by a sudden gust of wind. It fell to the dirty, dusty surface of Ossus with a small clang, the familiar sound of metal meeting concrete echoing across the broken world. But neither spectre nor spectator moved an inch… the twisted shard of metal went unnoticed as both appraised each other, silently willing the other to relent.

“…okay, fine.”

“Thank you.”

“But I swear to god, if you hurt her, I will make every single moment of your life an agony the likes of which will leave you begging for me to kill you.”

“How do you plan to do that, oh great master spectre?”

“I might be dead, but I’m still more powerful then you could possibly imagine.”

“I forgot.”

An uneasy silence once again settled over the two warriors. Both were long past their prime, but for a moment, Andrew Micheal Rashanagok thought that they could still make a difference. Even if that difference was only one person.

Even if that difference was only her.

Only her…





It did look that way at the time.





”I want to thank you for everything you did for me.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“What?”

”Thanking people.”

“So? I’m trying to be humble.”

“Well, forget it. Get to work.”





Once you got into the capital, it wasn’t so bad.

The almost systematic destruction of Ossus had not spared the capital cities by any means… quite to the contrary. But despite Gash Jiren’s attempts to create a paradise, Ossus was still very much like any rimward world… money talked, and bullshit walked. It was no coincidence that the most expensive real estate on Ossus was rebuilt first… it was, rather, the nature of man.

The monolithic towers, felled years ago by awe inspiring missile impact, had been rebuilt, and in typical fashion, had been rebuilt ten meters taller. The crystalline beauty of Ossian shopping centrals had been carved anew, shimmering the reflection of the over glow of the nearby commercial district, awash with a neon radiance both marvelously extravagant and radioactively unhealthy. The world was a study in contrast, as the central complex of life existed almost entirely removed from the decomposing remains of what had once stood, the reminder left in rubble of what had happened casually surrounding the walking simile of life… moving on.

Moving… backwards…

It was at the edge of the city that the funeral was being held. Procession marched through the streets and to the outermost reaches of the residential district, to a small clearing among the rubble where “Gash Jiren” lay. This was no doubt done on purpose… probably by someone who knew Gash Jiren, who knew that he would delight in drawing out the hobknobbing elite in their Sunday best to trudge through the ash of their old home. It was something that Ahnk had to smile about.

Of course, not only the gathered crowd were in mourning. Between him and the effigy were numerous people of all color and creed, either trying to make their way to the proceedings, or generally trying to look disinterested. Ahnk had to offer a small nod to the latter… the cynic, sick of the cyclical attention to Ossus… sure, today Ossus was in the news, but in a week? Where were the Jedi to rebuild his home? The camera crews to film the poverty around? Gash Jiren this, Gash Jiren that…

In and amongst the crowd was a cacophony of emotion… anger, fear, and sadness, permeating the air, making every breath more difficult… choking him, the sorrowful wails of those who knew him and threats of revenge from those who served them, one harmony resonated over all… a bitter hatred intermingled with a youthful determination and aggression… a feeling Ahnk knew, all too well… he found, in light of who he had become, he could not shut it out.

Rather, he walked directly towards it.

“You are angry,” he said, not as a statement but hardly as a question either. It was made as an educated yet uncertain observation. Accompanying it was his hand, finding the man’s shoulder and soaking in the waves of his projected emotion. Ahnk used it as a crutch, holding him… and himself… stable as he searched deeper. “Hmmm, and not without reason, either,” Ahnk appraised. He opened his eyes, drawing them level with the man, seeing from close range the rage contained therein… burning behind his pupils, leaking out in ways he didn’t understand…

Ahnk had to step away. Silently, Ahnk offered his hand, but unsure of what to make of his strange guest, the man could not take it. So Ahnk rescinded, instead giving him a short nod. “There is a vessel docked here… Sihoyguwa. If you wish to do something with your anger beyond just perturb passersby, you’ll meet me there.”

Once again, Ahnk found himself… distracted. He brushed past the troubled man, half-turning to excuse himself but ultimately unable to draw his head away…

Away… from her…

Ahnk sighed, drawing closed his eyes as he stopped. Surely to someone who had lived as long as he had, the mysterious aura of a young woman could no longer draw him so? Did the curiosities of youth truly hold any interest for them? How could they?

But when he opened his eyes and saw her… well, how could they not?

As he walked the ruined planet, feet leaving the refurbished city center and crossing back, once again, to the dirt and dust beyond, his eyes never left her. Though he drew closer to her with each step he was no closer to understanding what she was feeling… so confused was her essence in the force that Ahnk, an experienced master in the arts of its understanding, wasn’t sure how she felt…

Ahnk wondered if she even knew how she felt.

Ahnk imagined that was why she was here.

Finally, there was no Ossus left to cross. The woman… whatever her name… was only a few feet away, and if he wanted, he could reach out… but, first thing was first. “May I sit down?”

“There are plenty…” she began, but then she turned her head to him and trailed off.

“…of empty seats, yes,” Ahnk offered, finishing her thought and then adding that “there are none free besides a woman as fascinating as yourself.”

Unwilling, or unable, to summon a retort, she merely nodded, and allowed Ahnk to sit down. He was tempted to offer his hand, but after the earlier experience with another frustrated force user, reconsidered. “So… did you know him? The deceased, I mean.”

She brought her eyes up to his… a mixture of emotion across them, impossible to read… wary uncertainty and a frustrated confusion… when she spoke she was not forceful, but hardy passive about her frustration… “Why do you ask?”

Ahnk grinned. She was tricky… and that was not altogether a bad thing. “Do you always answer a question with a question? That’s bad form, you know.”

It had been foolish to think that she could avoid conversation at the funeral. Even seated as she was, beyond the fringe of the crowd, she was sure to attract attention. At times like these every needed a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to listen to their empty words. Most of what was said between those present was hollow and not through any fault of their own, but from the deep shock or upset they felt. Words were simply too unwieldy, too crude, to convey their true feelings. In spite of this, here she found herself talking.

“Do you always answer a question with a question? That’s bad form, you know.”

The girl smiled slightly, mirthlessly.

“To answer your question… no, I didn’t know him. I don’t think many did.”

Her gaze moved back to the crowd. Perhaps some were Jedi, old colleagues of Jirens. She would have wagered that many had never met with the late deceased. For all his faltering, Gash had been something of a luminary, his name widely known.

“Then why are you here?”

For a moment, she paused. Her eyes were focused on the ground, fixed on nothing in particular. “Why are any of these people here? To pay respect to a great man.”

“You’ll have to pardon my curiosity, but I get the impression that’s not the only reason.”

A small part of her was vexed by the questioning, whilst another seemed hopeful of the benefit it might have. Perhaps discussing out loud her thoughts and intentions might allow her to better understand them. Regardless, she felt uncomfortable justifying herself to a total stranger.

“Why are you here?”

And more importantly, she thought, who are you.

Do that right thing. Do the universe a favour. End it all. Just end it all.

He held the lightsaber hilt limply in his hands, his finger hovering over the ignition switch.

So easy...

Footsteps...

Sith-spit.

"I had a feeling," Silus stood and turned, "that you would..."

Bang. Pain. Silus blinked in confusion and stared down. Blood. Pain. Bang.

He shot me.

"Didn't... expect... that one..." Silus toppled over.


He lowered the blaster, smiled at the body.

Was he dead? Jedi didn't die that easily. At best, he was unconscious. That would have to be taken care of.

After all these years, it's finally over. He grinned at the thought. Always finish a job.

He kicked Silus over, stared at him and smiled.

"You look better in red," J'Nei said.



He shot me. The first thought when he regained conscious. Why?

"He wakes!" The voice was rasping, old. But it had more life in it than before.

Part of the ruse?

Why?

"Wh... why..." he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Silus opened his eyes and winced at the light. Everything was a blur, one that took its time in fading back to reality.

"Why?" he said louder. "Why did you..."

"Shoot you?" Silus recognized that voice.

J'Nei. Then memory came rushing in, swinging a hammer at confusion and throwing insults.

Bang. Pain. Blood. He shot me. By the Force, he fracking shot me!

"You shot me... why the frell did you do that?"

"You mean you don't know?" J'Nei chuckled. "You still haven't figured it out?" His chuckle became a guffaw, his laughter a grating sound which ran hot knives down his spine.

Why couldn't anyone here him? Silus risked a glance at his surroundings.

Where am I? He certainly wasn't at the funeral anymore. Where was he, that no-one could here him?

Underground?

Does Ossus even have a fracking underground?

"I tell you, I would have expected this to work on someone... lesser, than yourself. But a Jedi? An actual Jedi? I must be better than I thought!"

"Why did you shoot me..."

"Because I was hired to." J'Nei's bird-like face grinned. Or it looked like a grin.

"Hired? What do you mean... hired..." Silus's face trailed off.

Hired. Hired...

A memory came, a single picture clawing a way out of the murky depths of consciousness.

A memory from before he could remember, a memory that had stayed with him more than any remembrance of family, of any sort of home until it was pushed away, hidden.

"Hired to kill... you..."

"Ahh, now he learns the truth!"

"You killed... you killed them..."

"Yes, Silus," he grinned menacingly, "I killed them all."

***

Why didn't that make him angry? Where was the shock? His family was dead, he was staring into the eyes of their murderer... where was the pain?

"And so now you're going to kill me," Silus said. Time, that's what he needed. More time.

"I tell you, when it was learned that you were still alive, that you had been found, I was nearly killed for my mistakes. But when I offered to track you down, to trick you, to kill you..."

"But why now? You had chances before."

"None so great as this. None where I had the chance to escape with my own life," J'Nei leaned closer. "None where I could so much... fun!" He pointed his blaster and fired. Silus, even in his weak state, managed to summon the energy to turn his head, dodge the shot. Stone rubble ripped his cheek, left a new trail of blood.

"You missed," Silus said.

J'Nei leveled the blaster again. "I won't a second time."

"But you've forgotten something."

"Oh?" J'Nei asked and lowered the weapon. Silus held back a sigh of relief.

An evil man will always gloat, always prolong the end as long as he can.

Silus didn't answer J'Nei's question, instead sweeping a kick into J'Nei's knee. His captor cried out in surprise and fell to the ground. A shot when off, his the lights and flooding the room in darkness.

Silus ran, holding the wound on his chest. He didn't need sight; the Force was enough.

Just keep running... survive. Just survive.

"Keep running Jedi..." J'Nei shouted. His voice echoed. Could he still see? Silus knew nothing about the strange creature.

Survive, the thought came as Silus hobbled. A red blaster bolt flew by his head, disappearing into the distance. Silus was forced to throw himself against the wall, take cover as a few more shots joined their brethren.

Survive... why survive? Many lives could be saved with your death... how many families have you destroyed, will you destroy?

Why survive?

Footsteps, coming closer. They were slow, creeping. Perhaps J'Nei couldn't see in the dark after all...

Why? Why survive?

They were closer, now. Close enough for Silus to see J'Nei, through the Force, searching for Silus. Searching for Silus's body.

Why? Survive?

"Where are you... where are you..." So close, now. Silus could feel the end coming closer to him.

Why survive...

"And now their Force sensitivity has passed on to you, and with it the same burden that rested on their shoulders. I can't help but wonder what you'll do with it.''
Where had he heard that? He didn't remember it, remember the voice that said it. Only what was said.

"Soon you are going to be given a choice, Silus. I wonder if you'll make the right decision?"

A choice... his whole life, that had been a choice. And he knew he had not made the right choice.

But he didn't make the wrong one, either.

A choice...

Why should he survive?

Why survive?

Why? Survive?

Why? Survive!

Survive! J'Nei was almost within reach, now. End it all. End it here. End it now!

"Where are-" a force collided with J'Nei, crashing him into the wall behind them.

"You!" Silus shouted. There was nothing, just the instinct. His hands lashed out, grabbed the creature's blaster arm, snapped it. J'Nei screamed.

"You killed them," his fist connected with J'Nei's chin, grabbed his head in the confusion, smashed it into the wall. "You tried to kill me."

The blaster was in his hands, now. He let J'Nei drop, groaning, to the ground. He pointed the blaster. "The worst part... I trusted you. I've trusted no-one, except you. Maybe that was why it was so easy."

He pointed the blaster, his finger hovering near the trigger. A second passed by. Another.

"You can't do it," J'Nei rasped. "You can't hate me. I was your friend, and you can't kill me!" The creature laughed, coughing blood.

Couldn't hate him. So long ago, it would have been so easy. And now when he needed it... he couldn't...

Couldn't hate the thing that killed his parents.

Couldn't hate the thing that tried to kill him.

Couldn't hate a friend. His friend.

"You're right," Silus said, quietly, and lowered the blaster. "I can't hate you."

The blaster shot up again, pointed at J'Nei's forehead. "But I don't need to hate you."

So easy... he poured everything, all his self-loathing, his pain, his anger into that trigger. Just let it all go. End it all.

He fired. J'Nei stopped moving. Silus stared at the body. He couldn't feel anything. Why couldn't he feel anything.

He pointed the blaster again, fired.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing. It was done now, and he felt nothing. The end.

End it all.

So easy. End it all.

The blaster came to his own forehead. Just let it go.

He pulled the trigger...


Nothing.

Misfire. He couldn't even kill himself. The blaster dropped from his hand, clattered to the ground.

He stared upward, and smiled. And laughed.

Laughed until the tears came.

It was over. For now, it was over.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it and stared. And in one final decision, he flicked it away, watched J'Nei catch fire.

Two funerals, same day. Silus smiled grimly. It was all finally over.

***

The Jedi pulled himself painfully into the light. For now, his focus was on healing the wound, stopping the blood flow. It wasn't fatal, only meant to wound him so J'Nei could toy with him later. That had been his first mistake.

He tore off a part of his robes and made a hasty bandage for himself. For now, it would do. There was blood... so much blood.

Blood everywhere.

But it was over. One more chapter closed. Let the dead rest.

He had a funeral to attend.

For a moment, she paused. Her eyes avoided his… intentionally or coincidentally, she held her gaze steady to the earth. Carefully considering his question, more likely then not, but perhaps plotting an exit strategy from his casual interrogation.

“Why are any of these people here?” she asked.

“There…” Ahnk began, but she had continued, so he trailed off.

“To pay respect to a great man,” she finished. Ahnk offered her a smile… unseen, with her eyes in their current position. There she was, answering a question with a question again. Was Ahnk truly so vexing?

Or perhaps was more distracted then even he thought? In that case…

“You’ll have to pardon my curiosity…” he stated, with just enough edge in his voice to suggest that he was not at all sorry if he was off putting, “but I get the impression that is not the only reason.”

He felt her squirm. She was definitely not comfortable under his gaze and investigative approach. He looked away, just in time to avoid her angry leer as it fell upon his cheek. He felt her break… mentally, through the force, a barrier of frustration fall away, a level of guard down, considering the possibility that he was not so bad…

…but she wasn’t ready to open up. She bled distrust. Seethed with doubt. Filled with questions…

“Why are you here?”

…was one, spat with a meanness appropriate when considering she had been the one answering all the questions. Ahnk turned back to her with a soft smile, eyes down lid, showing her a pensive expression, calm and in attempt at least disarming.

“I am here because as I sat on that hill, over there, I saw a beautiful woman in some measure of duress. And in that moment my own grief and frustration did not seem to be so bad. At least, I knew I wasn’t alone.”

He allowed his eyelids to open, rolling his eyeballs up from her chin to level iris; smile widening. Feeling now would be a better time, he offered his palm to her.

“My name is Andrew.”

Dolash was now deep in the throngs that surrounded the site of Jiren’s funeral. Perhaps there was speeches, or anecdotes from those who knew him. He wasn’t sure, couldn’t care at this point if there were.

He, like many of the Jedi present, were practically having their own funeral, touching on Gash’s spirit through the Force and feeling the after-effects of his life there. He reached out, straining his low mastery of the currents that bind all living things, now suddenly consumed by a desire to know this great man.

What had he done? Where had he gone? With whom? To some extent, he had heard the answers to these questions, and yet it still felt like some lost era, a time long forgotten, and Gash was it’s last relic. With him gone, so too was that connection to the past, all he left behind was his shell of believers and hopefuls, the few, the scattered, the lost.

As he reached, he could feel the discordant spirits of those in the crowd. Each private remembrance, each filled with it’s own history and own unique Force energy, showed a different Gash, a different man. To some here, to the ill-educated, the young, and the inexperienced, he was unto a God - he could have done anything, he would have done anything, he was going to do everything. His death was a terrible omen to them. To the more experienced, however, they knew that Gash had been a mere mortal, and yet were equally terrified, for they saw life through the Force, and there was certainly no brighter light then he - now too so easily snuffed out.

There were a few, however, who flowed with different thoughts. He felt hate, anger, confusion, regret, fear, and revenge. He felt guilt. Somewhere in the crowd, he could even feel a personal kind of loss - one of the rare few here whose sadness was the loss of someone instead of something, the loss of a person instead of a hero. Dolash looked to the sky.

So this was the Force.

A motley collection of leaderless and uncontrollable rogues, consumed by their own agendas, desires, and opinions. Even those of his own order were the same. Unfocused, lost, to have all of this power and yet be powerless, it drove him down with despair.

...Like it did Gash...

It was there, it was faint, and it was not for him. The spirit he could feel, on the edges of the living Force, looking in. It was too much for him to see, too much for him to understand, but for the moment where he could see it as it passed about it’s own business, he felt it. Gash had known, Gash had understood, and perhaps he had carried some frustration and pain to his grave. But... looking back on his life, on what he knew, on what he did, perhaps that was reason enough to keep going, a good example to follow, even if he’d never really meant to be followed.

Dolash closed his mind, allowing himself time to think. So this was the Force, and near everything his side had to work with was within a one-mile radius of where he was standing.

It occured to him that this would be a really bad time for an earthquake.

“Andrew.”

The handshake was accepted. As she moved, the cuff of her robe slipped from her wrist, showing telltale signs of scaring. These were not self-imposed wounds, but rather the remnants of battles, of difficulty. One in particular looked particularly fresh – a reminder of her crucifixion at the hands of the zealous people of Ben’ma.

“Vega,” she replied, her hand falling away.

The implication that she was in distress did not go unnoted, yet she allowed it to slip by. Though she did not appreciate strangers making assumptions about her, she was level-headed enough to avoid a confrontation, particularly at a funeral. Instead, she contented herself with watching the rest of the crowd for a while.

“I would have liked to have known him,” she said at last. A little sadness, from somewhere deep beneath the surface, seemed to creep into her expression.

“… I don’t even know why.”

A slight frown creased her brow and she turned to face Andrew, who seemed to be watching her keenly. She found herself smiling awkwardly in response.

“You knew him, didn’t you?”

The man nodded.

“Would he have wanted all of this?” the girl nodded towards the solemn procession of grievers, nursing their wounds. “Is this the ending he would have chosen?”

As the service continued, Natalya, watched and listened closely. Her eyes drifting across the congregation, every now and then they settled on someone , her thoughts only momentarily interrupted by a slight disturbance , an outburst at the front.

She strained her head to see, and she watched a man dramatically announce the end of the Rogue Jedi order…

"Ah…Prince Kamon Vondiranach…" Vinda said as he saw through her eyes.

…Prince?…

"Well he was, I’m not sure now, he is a Jedi though, trained by Jiren"

Natalya’s eyes followed him as he left the congregation...

...He doesn’t seem to be taking it that well…

"well you wouldn’t either if you lost your homeworld…"

ah…how?..

"Black Dragon Empire if my memory serves…"

I see.

"Shame…nice chap"

...you know, its quite useful having you here, you seem to know everyone…

"I have my uses…besides, I was around for a while you know"

Natalya smiled faintly as this.

Ok then, lets put this to the test…

”you’re on!”

Discreetly Natalya looked around for someone appropriate…

She smiled to herself as her eyes settled on the figure of woman whom Tysico appeared to be talking too…

Her!…

(Vinda laughed)

”This is too easy, Jedi Master Leia Organa Solo…”

Natalya frowned, inwardly cursing herself…

”you’re gonna have to do better than that!”

hey! I didn’t recognise her from the back!… (She said in defence)

Scanning her eyes across the crowd Natalya attempted to pick out another suitable candidate…

” this is fun we should play this game more often!” (Vinda jibed)

Soon enough her gaze settled upon a tall grey alien, picked out amongst a busy throng of well wishers, surely a challenge…

...that should throw you…show off! (she thought back smugly)

”hah!…Regrad, New Coalition Prime Minister, does excellent seafood buffets”

Natalya’s face soured a little…

...Now you’re just making shit up…

Vinda laughed as he replied…

” you really should watch the news more…”

Natalya rolled her eyes a little and looked behind her, and for some reason her scrutiny fell upon a couple at the back, they appeared to be talking, it was difficult to tell since one was hooded, and the other…

The other looked vaguely familiar, she could have sworn she had seen him before...

(Her father had stopped laughing)

him…

Vinda was silent.


well?…


...hah! I got you!


A slight smile started to creep upon her face as she sensed her small victory. Then she remembered, she had indeed seen him once before, at her fathers funeral, they hadn't met but she recognised the face...

”Ahnk.” Vinda finally said , but there was something in his voice which put her on edge…

Ahnk? Who is he?...he seems to have a thing for funerals...

”An old friend…he looks different, I almost didn't recognise him” Vinda said mysteriously..

Her eyes narrowed a little as she studied him closer…

(Vinda sighed a little)

”look, I didn’t tell you but, when we arrived, we received a transmission from Bonadan, telling us he would be here...I had hoped…” (he trailed off)

Natalya began to frown…

...hoped what?..

”hoped that we wouldn’t see him…”

...that’s no way to treat an old friend…

(Vinda sighed again, already weary of the conversation)

”I was looking out for your best interests, its complicated Natalya, there are things you don’t know about…”

Well, enlighten me?… Natalya responded becoming increasingly more annoyed at her father keeping her out of the loop…

”look. You are my daughter and I worry about you…”

Still frowning, Natalya backed down a little…

I see…worried he might be a bad influence on me?…

” something like that…”

The young woman looked him over and decided he didn’t look much of a threat…

well, if he is as good a friend as you say he is, then I have nothing to worry about, yes?…

...and with that, Natalya turned around, and made her way through the crowd towards the two strangers…

Vinda simply groaned, knowing full well, it would be pointless to argue…

Irtar didn't quite know what to do. As soon as he came, he was gone and left more questions with Irtar than answers. Actually, only questions and not a single answer. But it was closer to something than he had just been, for whomever had touched him was really strong in the Force. And he wasn't a Jedi... at least of his order.

But he wasn't a servant of the Dark Side. He didn't feel that same cold, ominous shadow he felt in Dehoir. It wasn't as warm as Master Organa's by any means, but still....

Why not check it out? It's not like he can really make things that much worse. Yeah, he could be some kind of Jedi Rapist but who's ever heard of that....?

Maybe he should rethink this.

'Screw it.' Irtar thought as he got up and made his way towards the spaceport to look for this 'Sihoyguwa'. An odd name. But the universe was an odd place. The outskirts of the city, where Gash Jiren was being put to rest was not as... nice as the inner parts of the city. Ossus, out there, seemed in as good a condition as the rest of the Galaxy.

War torn. Ashen. Full of suffering. Poor.

A million other words could be used. None of them pretty.

But they seemed to be rebuilding. The beauty that can be found in the inner parts of the Ossus capital seemed to be slowly encroaching upon the ashen remains of the outskirts. Maybe in time, the whole planet could maybe be out of the rubble.

-----------------At the Spaceport------------------

Irtar didn't feel too sturdy when he came upon Sihoyguwa. It was a dark looking ship. Gave him a creep vibe. He didn't know he used it in the present, but in the past this thing had been even darker to match it's owner.

The padawan rubbed his shoulders, trying to warm up slightly. But it wasn't of the flesh, although he tried. 'Come on Mal'Gro!' Irtar shouted at himself in his mind, 'Get in there ya pansy!'

He sighed, knowing he had to and pressed the button to open the hatch. And then something happened that he didn't expect. Something that would be the source of so much suffering this day. Something that would stay in his mind for the rest of his life!

The hatch didn't open.

"Identify." He heard over the comm of the ship.

CRAP! Was this someone else's ship? How many Sihoyguwa's could there BE in the galaxy!?! Or was that guy just being a jerk and trying to make Irtar look like a fool?

"Uhm.... I'm sorry, I guess I just have the wrong Sihoyguwa. I'm sorry if I've done anything...." Irtar said hastily trying to explain himself, and in his nervousness about to break into a rant.

"I will repeat. Identify yourself." The calm voice came again, which caused Irtar to raise his brow. Was it one of those bounty hunters!?! Did it just want his name to look for a bounty before killing him!?!

That's when he heard the click and blaster produced from over the door and aimed for him. "Identify yourself before security protocols go into effect." The voice came again.

Irtar's face turned white, and his knees weak. He didn't like the idea of dying.

"Uhm... erm... Ir-Ir-Irtar Mal'Gr-Gr-Gro." Irtar said shudderingly, afraid of what was to come next.

"Scan complete. No recorded incidents. Member of the Jedi Order." The voice said, and with that, the blaster retreated and the door opened. Irtar's mouth went slack, and looked to the comm, and then the open door, and where the blaster shot came from.

"IT WAS THAT EASY!?!" Irtar shouted, to no one really in particular. Just to let out some of his annoyance.

"I said Identify yourself. It's not my fault you didn't." The voice came over the comm. Irtar grumbled as he walkled unto the ship.

The fun was just beginning.