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cinlat · 3 years

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 12 (Interlude)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Everyone stops to take a breath while a storm rages on the horizon.

Chapter Word Count: 8,232 Chapter Rating: M Characters in Chapter: Zolah Holran, Vector Hyllus, Malavai Quinn, Theron Shan, Fynta Wolfe, Aric Jorgan, Lana Beniko, Darth Kozen, Kaeto Vaa, Notiac Carlo, Elara Dorne

Author’s Note: Due to the nature of this chapter, I’m going to have a little fun with the sections. Whole chapter under the cut. Better formatting on Ao3.

Odessen Alliance Base On Base Cantina

Zolah watched the door, resisting the urge to check her chrono again. Fynta was late. While the woman usually had a reason for her tardiness, Zolah's skin tingled in anticipation of moving this meeting along so that she could get to the next one. The round of drinks and din of jukebox music provided a poor distraction from the work left to be done.

Theron slumped over the table on the opposite side of Vector, a half empty beer bottle twirling between his fingers. They'd spent two hours with Theron upon his return, and half of that had been washing the grime of weeks without a 'fresher off him. Afterward, Vector directed the man to the kitchen with the insistence of food and caf being the next priority. Of course, he'd suggested a protein supplement drink first, then disregarded it when the former SIS agent pulled a face.

Watching Theron out of the corner of her eye, Zolah saw the signs of a stim crash on the horizon. He wouldn't last beyond the next two hours. She needed to get the stubborn man into bed and purge his system of the drugs that he'd likely overdone. Theron's knee bounced with more energy than normal, even with Vector's steadying hand on it. Zolah marked the sweat dappling Theron's hairline and recalculated; he'd be unconscious in a little more than an hour.

"Shan." Quinn contemplated the name, one hand rubbing at his chin while his whiskey sat untouched. "That name sounds familiar."

"It's not uncommon," Theron remarked. For once, the man wasn't glued to his datapad. Zolah wondered if his inner agent, the part of him that liked an organized, tidy plan, felt the same draw to the Imperial major that she and Vector had. Of course, it would likely be overridden by the larger part of Theron which had more in common with Fynta's brashness than anything resembling actual battle tactics.

Theron lifted his beer, angling the bottle at Quinn. "It's not much of a secret anymore. My mother is Satele Shan, former leader of the Jedi Order." Zolah noted the forced ease with which Theron spoke of the woman who kept him at arm's length. He'd accepted Satele's choice, but Zolah knew that it still stung.

An interesting tick started in Quinn's jaw, something not unlike a flash of outrage flitting through his eyes, then it was gone. Theron didn't see the man's reaction, as Fynta had chosen that moment to steal his beer and slide into the chair next to him. "Sorry I'm late, what did I miss?"

"We were just—" Theron snatched the bottle from Fynta's lips and wiped the mouthpiece off with his shirt. "Getting to know our newest council member."

"Perfect." Fynta's attention turned to the man in question, and Zolah saw the slightest stiffening in Malavai's posture. The music changed to a somber song by an artist from Wild Space. It was received with a chorus of hisses until someone switched the station. Fynta ignored her surroundings and focused on Quinn. "Major, you seem like the sort of man who appreciates getting right to the point. So, let's do that. What happened while you were on Kozen's crew?"

Quinn's chest expanded in a controlled inhale, his explanation beginning on the release of breath. "To explain that, I must inquire whether or not you have read my file. It's a long story, and I'd rather not rehash the parts you already know."

Fynta nodded, her expression serious for once. Looking at the woman under the dim lighting of the cantina, Zolah almost saw the fabled commander that so many looked to for reassurance. There was no trace of the insolent woman who vexed those responsible for keeping her alive. Fynta was focused, intent on Quinn's words with an open acceptance that most soldiers no doubt found easy to believe. Major Quinn didn't appear to be the exception. For all his intelligence, he was a military man.

"You ran into some trouble with an incompetent superior about fifteen years ago, and he buried your career. You sat on Balmorra for a while, terrible planet, that's where we picked up Vik." Zolah heard the catch in the woman's voice, but didn't think anyone else noticed. "After that, there was a lot of redacted. You want to fill in some of those for me?"

Quinn tipped his head, seemingly pleased by the summarization of his early life in the Imperial military. "I came into the service of a Sith called Baras. He was a spymaster, skilled in his trade. At the time, I thought he was the only one keeping my career afloat, that I owed him for the transfer to Balmorra instead of a dishonorable discharge."

When Quinn paused to take a breath, Fynta held up a hand. "Let me guess the rest. This Baras chakaar planted you on Kozen's crew, had you become one of his little spyders, then set you on the ill-advised path of betrayal."

Lines appeared in Quinn's brow. "That's—very astute."

"Oldest story in the galaxy," Fynta remarked, waving Quinn's comment away. Zolah made a mental note to warn the major that, despite appearances, Fynta had once been an accomplished spy herself. The woman continued her train of thought, unhindered by Zolah's continuous additions to the lists in her mind. "I've worked with Kozen for two years now. Loyalty is pretty much the only thing that man cares about—well, that and Kaeto. I figured you had to screw up pretty badly to get under his skin."

Quinn's jaw tensed. "I lured him into an ambush and set war droids on him and Pierce. It was, as you pointed out, ill-advised."

Fynta let out a bark of laughter that made both Theron and Malavai jump. Zolah sighed and bid farewell to the composed commander facade and readied herself to receive Fynta in true form. "Damn, that takes some get'se."

"Listen, Quinn." Fynta snatched Theron's beer again, ignoring his growl of irritation, and took another drink. "As far as I'm concerned, what happened back then is in the past. Your service record is clean. Acina is an ally for the moment, she sent you here for a reason, and if it was to spy, well…" Fynta waved around the table. "You're in good company."

"Now, I can't promise that Kozen won't crush your windpipe if you look at him wrong, but I can tell you that Kaeto holds his leash. Make nice with her, and at least he won't kill you. As for Pierce, I'll keep him in line."

Malavai cleared his throat. "That may prove difficult." Fynta rolled her hand for him to continue while pulling the beer out of Theron's reach when he grabbed for it. The man folded his arms with a surly huff. Malavai spared them a glance, but not even the poorly lit room could hide the blush creeping up from his collar. "I disapproved of Darth Kozen's relationship with the Master Vaa, verbally and on numerous occasions. It is the reason I left his service."

Fynta's brows lifted, and even Zolah was surprised that Quinn had managed to remain on Kozen's crew after the ambush. "Kozen let you stay?"

Quinn's jaw flexed like a bantha chewing cud before he answered. "My presence was instrumental to Darth Kozen's plan to remove Baras from power, nothing more. Once our task was complete and he took up with Master Vaa...it was mutually decided that my role as his medical officer and strategist had come to an end. We have not crossed paths since."

Tapping the bottle against her chin, Fynta hummed. "That complicates things, but I still say that Kaeto is your way back into Kozen's good graces. She's a smart woman, and she'll understand. Talk to her, that's an order."

Zolah watched Malavai's jaw tighten again, but his head tipped in acceptance. He would do it because he'd been commanded to, but the man disapproved. Zolah couldn't help but calculate that acquiescence into her mental profile of the major. She knew from his past that he would disobey an order that he thought as detrimental to the cause, but where did Malavai Quinn draw the line? After all, he'd gone through with an attack on Kozen. Was it about honor? Would the man debase himself to complete a mission like Zolah had so many times in her career, or was he above that? If nothing else, Major Quinn would be an interesting puzzle to unravel.

"Secondly," Fynta continued, triggering Zolah's subconscious to join the conversation. She could theorize later. "I want you with Theron and Zolah in ops command. A mind like yours is rare and I won't let it go to waste on matters like sewage. By all means, work on streamlining the Alliance in your free time. While I don't understand the need to continue working around the clock, I've lived with your kind for years. Otherwise, I want you on the hunt for Arcann and the strategy committee tasked with figuring out what the hell we're going to do about Vaylin. Now, do you have any questions for me?"

The lines returned to Quinn's forehead. "No, sir."

"Excellent." Fynta stood and handed Theron his empty bottle. She eyed the Imperial for another moment, then nodded. "Tell you what. Finish your drinks, then join us on the Thunderclap in twenty minutes, Quinn. I think you might be able to offer a fresh perspective on whatever osik Kaeto and Kozen are about to dump on me."

"I—" Malavai straightened his collar and stood to see his commanding officer away from the table. "I appreciate your faith in me, Commander. I will not let you down."

A grin brightened Fynta's face, and Quinn clearly had no idea what to do about it. She slapped Theron on the shoulder and nodded to the rest. "See you all in a bit." And like that, the meeting was over, and Malavai had been accepted into the inner circle. Zolah couldn't say that she agreed with Fynta's decision to bring him in on Valkorion's disembodied presence, but she didn't fault the woman's logic. That was the most annoying part.

While Theron turned his beer upside down to scowl at the three drops that plopped onto the table, Quinn let out a startled, half laugh and returned to his seat. "That was interesting."

"I really hate that woman," Theron muttered before looking up with what was probably supposed to be a grin. Zolah flinched, but Malavai maintained his composure. "Fynta doesn't care what happened, really, she just wants to know how to stop people from killing each other under her roof."

Zolah put a hand on the major's arm, light enough to be shrugged off without insult should he not wish to be touched. "The Alliance is a colorful assortment, none of us arrived at this point with clean hands."

"That is…" Malavai took a second to choose his words, then scowled at the still full whiskey glass. "That is refreshing, I admit."

"Now that the commander has invited Malavai to the meeting, should we not warn him of its purpose?" Vector sipped his rum, observing the tone of the conversation as was his way. Zolah noted the downward turn of his lips and wondered if her husband shared the same reservations.

Theron rested his chin in his hands, eyelids heavy. "Probably not a bad idea. The summarized version though, there isn't time for the entire story."

"Not here." Zolah stood, circling the table to pull Theron to his feet before he could drift off. "Vector, be a dear and handle that while I take care of Theron."

Vector followed her lead, one hand resting on Malavai's shoulder while he pleaded with Theron to cooperate with Zolah. Quinn remained seated, seemingly unbothered by Vector's touch. The man had flinched away from anyone else, positioning himself where he was least likely to be jostled. Vector had a way with everyone, but it felt deeper with Quinn. Zolah was curious where it would go.

Theron tugged on his gaudy, red jacket. "Major, I'm sure I'll see you soon. I'm apparently being sent to my room." Zolah hid her smirk at the man's oblivious manner and hooked her arm with his. The spy smiled down at her, a crooked thing made more so by the stim crash. Less than forty-five minutes. She'd need to give him a boost if he was going to make it through the meeting.

Zolah patted Theron's arm. "Come on, meeting now, then off to bed with you."

Odessen Alliance Base En route to The Thunderclap

"So, you remembered nothing?" Fynta waited for the lift doors to open, then stepped inside while Elara questioned her about their time apart. She'd met the woman outside of the cantina so that they could walk to the meeting together. Elara had received a quick tour of the base, but Fynta didn't expect even her impressive memory to hold each twist and turn.

"Kind of," Fynta answered. She'd been dreading this conversation, unwilling to look back at all the wrongs that she'd done while Valkorion poked holes in her memory. Fynta tried to keep her tone casual, but it sounded forced. "I lost everything involving Havoc Squad through some plan to isolate me. Thankfully, I married a stubborn man. Cormac wasn't any better." A wave of regret rose in Fynta's chest, and she swallowed it down. The competing memories still left her light-headed, but they ambushed her less now.

Hoping to turn the topic to something else, Fynta keyed in their destination and turned to her old friend. "Enough about me, I'm sorted." It was a lie. She was far from having her shit together, but no one wanted to hear that their commander was one misstep away from losing it. Fynta pasted on a grin. "Let's talk about you."

"Pardon?" Elara asked. Fynta lifted a brow, adding a head tilt when Elara didn't immediately succumb. She'd forgotten how little that affected the medic. Elara was steadfast, completely unmovable. If she ever mastered the eyebrow, the woman would be damn near invincible.

Elara waved the question away and watched the numbers on the lift tick down. "I'm fine."

"Don't deflect." Fynta knew that trick, and it wouldn't work on her. "You've had a hell of a time on Coruscant, and I want you to unload."

To Fynta's surprise, she discovered that part wasn't a lie. She did want Elara to rant and rave and call her a selfish fool like old times. This icy aloofness was troubling. She'd defected to the Republic for a better life and found herself in the same situation time and time again.

Huffing in annoyance, Elara stared ahead. "It's been hard on everyone, I don't see—"

Fynta's hand rested on Elara's shoulder. The woman tensed, then turned steely eyes towards Fynta. There was so much fear and distrust in them that Fynta's stomach knotted. She smiled. "It's just us. Time to be honest."

Elara's eyes shut with deliberate slowness, and Fynta saw moisture straining at the corners. She let out a shaky breath, then the dam broke. "My life felt out of control," she admitted. "You were gone, then I found out that I was pregnant. The military has always been my life, learning to be something else was difficult. Balic never believed that you were gone, but the rest of us didn't have time for such luxury. I gave up and focused on survival until Havoc went AWOL, then it was desperate hope and the fear of failure." Elara wrinkled the hem of her shirt in curled fingers, rolling up, then back down while she spoke.

Casually, Fynta reached over and hit the emergency brake for the lift. "The choice for Balic to leave was easy in the beginning," Elara continued. If she'd noticed that they'd stopped, she made no mention of it. "But the emotional stress on the children was more than expected. You have no idea what a relief it is to be here. Away from the lies and politics and..." Elara trained off and intentionally squared her shoulders.

"Shab," Fynta breathed. She yanked Elara in an embrace and held her tight. She hoped that it conveyed how sorry she was for putting them through that. "I'll try not to get frozen again."

A sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh found its way out of Elara's body. Her arms encircled Fynta, and after several heartbeats, they both relaxed. "See that you don't. I may not be so accommodating next time."

Fynta released Elara with a chuckle and reactivated the lift. Wiping discreetly at her eyes, Elara cleared her throat. "Now, how are things with Shillet?"

The cringe had been involuntary, but Elara smiled. It felt maternal. Like anything the woman said next had to be true. Fynta doubted she'd ever be able to project that sort of confidence. "She just needs time," Elara said. "Teenagers are hard."

The young Nautolan blamed Fynta for everything, and she wasn't wrong. At least the girl had been brave enough to call Fynta out. For now, they walked on unsteady ground, each testing the waters of whatever lay between them with care. Shillet had accepted the helmet, even looked pleased about it. Fynta hoped it was enough for now.

When the lift door opened, Yuun waited beyond. Elara moved forward to greet the Gand, clasping his clawed hands between hers. As they walked, Yuun clicked and hummed about his time in the Zakuulan underworld while he searched for Fynta. He'd known she was there, but didn't have the assets to retrieve her. There was much lamenting about not knowing how to contact Theron during that time. Fynta tried to praise him for getting anywhere near Zakuul on his own, but he spoke over her with a larger number of reasons why he should have done better, so Fynta let it drop.

By the time the Thunderclap came into view, Elara had been brought up to speed on everything that had happened since Fynta came out of carbonite, the important bits, at least. Thankfully, the woman didn't ask about Vik. Fynta knew that Cormac had explained the situation to her, but Fynta wasn't ready to broach that topic yet.

Jorgan waited at the bottom of the ramp when they arrived. A knot loosened in Fynta's chest when he turned from his conversation with Cormac, Lana, and Notiac with a smile. Her family never gave up, no matter the periodic lapses in faith. They would never know how much Fynta valued their willingness to sacrifice everything for her.

Elara broke away from Fynta and Yuun to walk into Cormac's arms. The stupid grin on his face made everything worthwhile. Fynta had put right every wrong that she could, the rest would come in time. Clapping her hands, Fynta gestured up the ramp. "Time to get this show going. After you."

Fynta took stock of those waiting inside. Kozen and Kaeto stood to one side of the room, inseparable as expected. Zolah had Theron propped against the wall, but it looked like a stiff wind would blow him over. Vector and Quinn sat in the chairs close to the holoterminal, heads together while they spoke in low tones.

While Fynta made her way to greet Felix and Torian, a chill whispered up her spine. "He's an interesting addition." Solish materialized from the shadows, her golden eyes visible behind the cowl of her hood. They flicked towards Quinn, and Fynta heard the mocking laughter in the Cathar's voice. "You know of his treacherous past, I assume."

"We've all made questionable choices for the good of the cause," Fynta answered, following Solish's gaze. The Sith had been less present around the Alliance of late, sneaking into Zakuul with her soul eating monster and her pirate for intel. Zolah assured Fynta that the results were worth whatever collateral damage that the Cathar caused while there.

"A test." Solish clapped her hands in delight. "I look forward to seeing how this goes."

Lana cleared her throat, and Solish slipped away in the time it took for Fynta to locate the source of the sound. "If you would all gather around. It's late, and many of us haven't had a proper night's sleep in weeks."

The room grew quiet as Master Vaa stepped into the middle. She'd changed from her battle armor into the casual black sweats that were supplied in mass by the Alliance. Not even the normally baggy material could hide the muscular prowess that the Togruta normally had on display. If Fynta could rock abs like that, she'd show them off too.

"On our journey back to Odessen, Kozen and I were gifted with a vision." Kaeto's fluid accent silenced lingering conversations in the room. "We were meditating in a room beneath the ship when Valkorion appeared to us. In this vision, Vaylin bested us in combat, but Valkorion stopped her from dealing a death blow."

"Stopped her how," Koth asked before Fynta could. She knew which room the Jedi spoke of, and had been plagued by Valkorion there also.

Kozen answered this time, his voice rumbling deeper than Jorgan's. "He triggered conditioning buried within her mind, so deep, that the young empress didn't know it existed. With a phrase, Valkorion rendered the woman harmless."

"What's more," Kaeto picked up as if she and Kozen were speaking the same thought, a flawless transition. "We believe this to be a memory, more than a possibility. I felt her fear, and could it explain Vaylin's radical actions of late. She's only recently become aware of the threat."

"That must be agonizing for Vaylin," Lana mused. She spared a glance at Zolah, but the Chiss agent looked unmoved to Fynta's eyes. Lana squared her shoulders and looked between the Togruta and Sith Blood. "But, good news for us. Do you remember the phrase he used?"

Kaeto dipped her head. "Kneel before the dragon of Zakuul."

Zolah snorted. "Well, it's got all the flair of an Immortal Emperor."

"Why you?" Jorgan interrupted. He leaned against the bulkhead behind Fynta, the lights from his new eyepatch blinking as they scanned the room. When Fynta glanced back at him, Jorgan gestured at her. "I mean. If the bastard is in her head, how is he communicating with you two?"

"We have a theory," Vector stated, unfolding from his chair. With a tap on his datapad, the holoterminal in the middle lit to provide a web of color. The overhead lights dimmed to compensate. "Allow us to show you the way we see the universe."

Two strands lit, each leading to a central point, though they diverged in several places along the way and wove around one another in others. "Those touched by the Force leave an echo in their wake," Vector explained. "When two of these beings meet, there is a spark, if you will." More lines converged, brightening the room and giving the presentation bulk.

"Kaeto spent a great deal of time in the Emperor's presence many years ago. He touched her mind, leaving a scar that will never heal. As with Darth Kozen, who served Vitiate in his own way." Vector approached the holo and pointed at the central dot. "Both have reached into Fynta's mind in an attempt to restore her memories, creating a link between them. We believe that the energy radiating from the Gravestone allowed Valkorion to convey his message along these avenues."

"Wait." Fynta joined the man, tracing her fingers through the various avenues until she reached the center. "That's me?"

Vector nodded. "The universe converges around your song, time and time again. We cannot explain this."

"Shab," Fynta breathed. Part of her couldn't wait to rub this in Verin's face, while the majority of her mind panicked at the idea of being a fundamental pawn of destiny. She saw a dimmer line, one that flickered and diverged more than the others, but looped back around to the center every time. Upon closer inspection, Fynta noted that it orbited her marker, leaving a barely visible trail. "What's this?"

"Ah, yes." Vector removed the brighter life forces to focus on the one Fynta had singled out. "We can only theorize that this one was triggered by Major Jorgan's presence when Revan released the emperor into the galaxy."

Fynta blinked at the Joiner, then sensed Aric stir from his position against the wall. "I'm not Force sensitive." Fynta turned at the anger in her husband's voice. His single-eyed glare was every bit as effective as it had been before. Aric's focus bounced between Vector and the display, a strange expression deepening his scowl.

"You're Cathar," Lana answered as if it was the simplest explanation. "Most of your species is touched in some way, even if it is unmeasurable. Nothing you'd be conscious of. Your dreams perhaps, or a more precise intuition. It might even be present in your marksmanship."

The range of emotions that crossed Jorgan's face left Fynta breathless. She watched the dots above his eyes pull together, then dart apart as if something had occurred to him. When their gazes found one another, Aric looked away. His glare found the floor, and it didn't return to her.

"Regardless," Theron interjected, pulling everyone's attention back to the topic they'd come to discuss. Fynta pulled her attention to the spy with effort. "We've got a new tactic to consider, and a possible way to exploit it."

The holo flickered as Theron took control of the terminal to display a message from a man whose hair defied gravity. Vector moved back to his chair while Theron took the floor. "There's a party on Zakuul. Vaylin's way of celebrating her return to the throne with the Eternal Fleet. Bet my non-existent pension this is a smokescreen for something else."

Fynta gestured at the image. It was difficult to concentrate on Theron's presentation while she fretted over Aric. "Is this our invite?"

"Yep." Theron popped his lips on the final letter, earning him a concerned glance from more than one person in the room. He was crashing, and judging by the way Zolah edged closer, faster than anticipated. The man never had learned his limits. He'd likely kept himself dosed on stims and ran his implants at max the entire time they were on Iokath.

Theron continued without acknowledging the stares. "Looks like Zakuul has a fledgling rebellion, and we're the guests of honor."

When Fynta caught Zolah's eye, the Chiss gave a discreet nod. Fynta took control of the meeting with the intent of getting everyone to their bunks. "It's not for another two weeks. Table this for the day after tomorrow. If there is nothing else, I'm calling this meeting adjourned. You all look like osik."

Muted laughter rolled around the room. When no one spoke, Fynta clapped her hands. "Alright you guys, get out of here and get some sleep."

The group broke apart into pairs and trios, lingering conversations moving out of earshot as the ship emptied. Fynta waited for everyone to leave, then turned to her husband. "Do you know—"

"No," Aric snapped, flipping off the lights. He sighed and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. "No idea."

Fynta let the topic of Aric's speculated Force sensitivity drop for the moment. She wasn't ready to go home yet, not while they were so tightly wound. Shillet would be waiting, and she didn't need any more reason to distrust Fynta. With the mood Aric was in, the girl would automatically assume Fynta was at fault.

Crossing the room, Fynta rested her hand on Aric's arm. He didn't pull away, so she assumed whatever the problem was hadn't been entirely her doing. "Hey, how about we hit the mats. It's been a few days since I've had a good sparring partner."

Aric's lips curled, then he let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Sure." The Cathar pulled Fynta against his side and kissed the top of her head. "I could use some exercise."

Odessen Alliance Base Official Quarters

Theron winced when Vector slid his jacket down his arms. His skin was on fire, shifting between hot and cold so fast that he couldn't stop shaking. A pulsing headache had developed behind his left eye, and his muscles ached like he'd spent an hour in someone's interrogation room.

"Fuck," Theron groused. Even Vector's gentle fingers felt like live wires when they touched his skin. The Joiner hummed an apology and pulled Theron's shirt the rest of the way over his head. Zolah was less gentle.

After Theron had flopped onto the bed, his Chiss lover set about removing his boots. He'd grumbled that he could handle it alone, but she'd ignored him. Once those were gone, Zolah reached for the snaps on his pants.

"I really can undress myself," Theron complained when Zolah pushed him back. Vector had already disrobed, removing his shirt and pants to lounge against the headboard. Theron hissed at the electric sensation of Vector's bare chest against his skin before the warmth of a comforting touch eased the tension in his back. He sagged against the Joiner, letting the last of his fight evaporate.

"You're crashing," Zolah huffed, tugging Theron's pants down his legs and tossing them onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. "And if I know you, it's from a dangerous amount of stims. You're already running a fever, and those shakes could turn into convulsions at any moment."

Theron turned his head to see if Vector looked as disappointed as Zolah sounded, but the movement tugged painfully at something in his neck. He blew out a long breath, but refused to apologize. Theron had done what needed to be done, and everyone had gotten out alive. He called that a win.

Vector's arms wrapped loosely around Theron, securing their bodies together. He hadn't realized that it was a safety precaution until that moment, but let himself be lulled by the closeness of someone he trusted. Zolah disrobed next. Even with her matter-of-fact way of going about it, Theron wouldn't give up an opportunity to watch the Chiss undress. He fought against the pull of sleep until she climbed onto the bed with them.

"You drugged me," Theron slurred, noting that Vector's touch no longer pained him, and he barely felt the pressure of Zolah's head on his stomach.

"I did," Zolah confirmed, draping one long, thin arm around his chest. He shivered at the temperature difference, but it wasn't unpleasant. She shushed him, her next words sounding distant. "You'll thank me for it in a couple of days."

Odessen Alliance Base Commander's Quarters

"Are we going to talk about this?"

Jorgan looked up from his datapad to where Fynta's reflection was barely visible in the fresher mirror. He glanced towards the lower section of their quarters to see that Shillet was wearing special vibration canceling headphones built for a Nautolan's auditory system. Satisfied that his daughter wouldn't be privy to what sounded like the beginning of an argument, Aric went back to his datapad. "Talk about what?"

Jorgan heard the sound of running water, the unmistakable gargle, then splatter as Fynta ended her pre-bed routine. She appeared in the doorway, brows lined in frustration at his inability to read her mind. "Lana struck a nerve with that Force-talk. I've been waiting all night for you to bring it up."

The tightness that had been relieved by a round of flirty sparring returned to Jorgan's chest. He glanced up, shook his head, then pretended to read again. "It was nothing."

"Bantha shit," Fynta spat, the venom in her voice enough to startle Jorgan into looking up again. She pointed at him from the end of the bed. "We promised not to lie to each other."

Aric winced at the accusation, more so that he couldn't deny it. Blowing out a breath, he set aside the datapad and rubbed a hand over the top of his head. "What do you want me to say, Fynta? I had nightmares while you were gone. It's a normal part of grieving." Or so he'd been told.

Fynta's face softened as she knelt on the end of the bed, one hand resting on Jorgan's shin. "What sort of nightmares?"

Growling, Aric shrugged, then folded his arms for lack of anything better to do with them. "I dreamed about you, alright? About Valkorion killing you, torturing you. It was always cold and most of the time just desolate rock. I couldn't hear your voice or move. I just watched." The sudden lift of Fynta's eyebrows halted Jorgan's jumbled confession. The weight of dread in his stomach doubled. "What?"

"Was it always the same?" Fynta asked, then pulled both legs onto the bed to cross them at the ankle. Jorgan was glad to see that her flexibility had finally returned.

"Mostly," Aric hedged. He didn't want to think about the years of nightmares. The confusion and guilt every morning when he woke to an empty bunk. "The angles weren't always easy to interpret."

Fynta let out a snort of laughter that fell a klick short of anything real. "Shab. Lana was right."

No. Aric thought. Don't say it.

Fynta picked at her nails while she worked through a different version of the realization Jorgan could no longer escape. "I'd forgotten about the asteroid. At least, I think that's what it was. Valkorion would take me there when he wanted to teach me a lesson. Show me why a union of our minds was the only way to save the galaxy. Shab," she repeated, chin resting on her knuckles while her gaze turned to the past. If Aric hadn't been Cathar, he might not have heard the words that followed. "I watched you die so many times."

"It's a coincidence," Jorgan argued, desperate for any excuse to discount Lana and Vector's theory. The idea of being connected to Fynta while she'd been with Valkorion terrified him. That he'd had proof that she was still alive, and he'd ignored it. Coward, a voice growled in the back of Aric's mind. You saw what happened, and you left her to rot for Five. Fucking. Years.

Those words tumbled through Jorgan's mind as memories of long-repressed dreams pushed into the light. Fynta had been exhausted, angry, and searching for them. She'd never stopped fighting even while the Sith walled off her mind. Aric's refusal to act had cost Fynta her memories of Havoc Squad. She'd thought that she was alone. At least she didn't remember how you abandoned her, the voice taunted from the dark recesses of Aric's mind. She never knew that you chose a career over your wife. She does now.

Jorgan didn't realize that he was hyperventilating until Fynta's hands cupped his face. "Riduur—Aric, look at me." Her eyes were dark pools in the dimly lit room. He could see everything in them, the pain of the last six years and the damage done to their relationship. The lost trust that they were still trying to repair. It could have been avoided. You did this.

Wrapping his arms around Fynta, Jorgan pulled his wife against him until she was cradled in his lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Fynta pinched Jorgan's chin between her fingers until he met her gaze. "Me being stuck in carbonite is not on you." Aric opened his mouth to explain why she shouldn't have been there so long, but Fynta cut him off. "Losing those years is not on you." She enunciated the last four words, staring at him until he nodded.

"I thought they were just nightmares," Aric said, his voice cracking from the strain of holding back too many emotions. "If I'd known—"

Fynta kissed him. It wasn't the sort that would lead to shed clothing and ragged breathing, but to form a connection, to prove that there was no blame. Jorgan tucked her head beneath his chin and inhaled her scent. For years she'd been reaching for him, and he'd been too damn stubborn to answer. He'd never make that mistake again.

Odessen Alliance Base 'Old Development'

Lana pulled the earpiece out before Solish had finished speaking. She'd warned the Cathar that her time was limited tonight, and the woman had seen fit to call her bluff. Lana didn't bluff. She was exhausted from the riggers of battle, travel, and another catastrophe on the horizon. For once, Lana hadn't argued that there was work to be done when the commander ordered everyone to quarters for the night.

Placing her hand on the keypad, Lana shut her eyes and reached for the calm she knew awaited inside. Notiac was her shelter in the chaos of life, her island of peace. Only, that wasn't what Lana felt on the other side of the door. Nervous energy flitted about like a bird caught in a storm. Lana commanded the door to open and entered with haste.

"What's wrong?" The words were out before the door shut behind Lana.

Notiac stood in the middle of the room, wrapped in her night robe with hair brushed into long, soft curls. She'd set aside her bone mask, greeting Lana with an open smile. "I almost feared that you wouldn't come home tonight."

Shoulders sagging with relief, Lana unbuckled her lightsaber belt and hung it on the back of a chair. "Apologies, I was—"

"Held up, yes, I know." Notiac's head tilted in what reminded Lana of a doting old woman who had tolerated her partner's infuriating habits for so long that they became endearing. She crossed the room, long fingers curling around Lana's arms while the sightless Jedi studied her.

Lana lifted a hand to put it over Notiac's. "I'm fine, promise."

"You were out of reach for so long," Notiac breathed, tugging Lana into a fierce hug that belied the woman's slender frame. "I couldn't be sure at times if I felt you or if it was wishful thinking."

When Notiac pulled back, she placed a gentle kiss on Lana's lips, then set about unwinding her work clothes. "I can do that myself," Lana laughed, though she didn't fight. It was nice to be doted on; to be missed.

"I know," Notiac answered, pulling the tunic over Lana's head. Her fingers returned to knead the muscles in Lana's shoulders, digging into knots that she hadn't realized were there. The Jedi Master leaned against Lana's back to whisper in her ear. "Let me take care of you, tonight. For my sake."

Lana allowed herself to be guided to the bed once she'd been divested of her uniform. Notiac had unending patience when it came to those she cared about, and her massages always lulled Lana into a comfortable sleep. This was Lana's haven, with a Jedi. Not just any Jedi, but the Barsen'thor, a woman who had sat on the Order's council and instructed others on how to broker peace. She'd formed armies, treaties, and fought wars, but it hadn't diminished her compassion. For that, Lana would be ever grateful.

"We might be nearing the end," Lana said without realizing that the thought was on her mind. An end meant...endings. She looked over her shoulder to where Notiac perched on her knees. "Where will you go after?"

"After the war?" When Lana nodded, Notiac hummed in thought while she continued to work on Lana's aching shoulders. "I hadn't considered it. None of us are guaranteed to survive that long. I prefer to live in the now, with the people I love." That was what had drawn Lana to the Jedi in the first place. While she appeared cold and disconnected on the outside, a depth of emotion so deep that even after years Lana hadn't found its end, lay below the facade. It wasn't the chaos of Sith, but a gentleness so profound that Lana had succumbed before she knew there was a threat.

Lana took Notiac's hand from her shoulder and pulled the woman down until they were seated side by side. "Will you rejoin the Order?"

"No." Locks of brown hair swept over the Jedi's shoulder when she shook her head. Inhaling, Notiac angled her face towards the far wall, seeing into some future that Lana was blind to. "No, the Order is done for now. Perhaps I'll remain on Odessen for a while. Just because the war ends, doesn't mean the fighting will. There will be pieces to pick up."

The tightness in Lana's throat loosened, and she tried to let out a subtle sigh of relief. It hadn't been quiet enough. Notiac's head tilted, listening, then a clever smile pulled at her lips. "My dear Lana. Were you afraid that I'd leave you?"

"Well," Lana huffed, still gripping Notiac's fingers. "The Alliance does need you. I'm not sure that I have the time to train someone else to take your responsibilities."

"Of course," Notiac agreed, her tone grave yet mocking.

Lana pushed the woman further up the bed. "Oh, shut up." Notiac chuckled, bracing her back against the headrest so that Lana could rest her head in her lap. The sensation of fingers brushing through Lana's hair sent chills along her arms and legs. She lingered on the edge of sleep, drifting on the melodious humming of her Jedi lover. When she crossed the line into unconsciousness, Lana didn't dream.

Odessen Enclave Residential Quarters

Kaeto sat on the floor in the middle of the room, her naked body shimmering like molten gold in the dim light of her candles. Kozen watched the Jedi, an alien, with vague curiosity. There were still moments where he saw a stranger. The high montrals and lekku that swayed with each breath looked unnatural from this distance. Kozen knew that the moment her lavender eyes found him, he would forget their differences, and they would be one again.

A tremor of emotion began in the back of Kozen's mind, then snuffed out with intentional malice. He tipped his head and reached further, following the thread of fear until it ended at the door in her mind that Kaeto kept closed to him. He'd respected her privacy for years, haunted by her screams when he'd tried to pry apart her defenses long ago. They echoed back to him from another lifetime, one that he planned to leave behind forever.

"Would you join me?" Kaeto's thick accent filled the space between them, heating the blood in Kozen's veins when she brushed against his mind with a lover's caress.

Silently, Kozen tugged his shirt off, then shucked his trousers before joining Kaeto on the floor. Their shared meditations were more intimate than sex, laying everything bare, everything except that corner of her mind. With his spine straight and muscles relaxed, Kozen let the cool air of their room wash over his exposed skin.

"You are troubled," Kozen rumbled barely above a murmur. Kaeto had been more susceptible to the rogue emotions of the alliance as of late. He couldn't be sure that she'd slept since her vision of Valkiorion. Kozen was convinced that she only shared it because they'd been connected at the time. Valkorion had no interest in a disgraced Wrath, but she was the one that had gotten away. She was the first to murder him.

Surprisingly cold fingers wrapped around Kozen's hand, and he sucked a breath in when Kaeto's emotions flooded across the divide to invade his senses. She gave him time to adjust, only speaking once his breathing had steadied. "I haven't been honest with you, but the time has come."

Kozen opened his eyes and turned to find Kaeto looking at him. As expected, his stomach fluttered at the sight of their clarity, and she offered a knowing smile. Kozen ignored his hormones in favor of answers. "You're going to let me in?" There was only one thing she could keep from him.

A single nod answered Kozen's request. Kaeto's face was a mask of resignation. He suppressed the tremor of fear that began in the back of his mind before it could travel to hers. Kozen's fingers tightened around Kaeto's. "I am ready."

The onslaught of images came without warning. The door swung wide, drowning Kozen in rage and bloodlust. He realized that this was Kaeto when she'd been under Vitiate's control, that those screams were from her past, not his. "Wait for it to pass," Kaeto encouraged, her voice echoing off the walls of his mind. "Breathe through it."

Power surged through Kozen. "Let it pass," Kaeto reminded, and he released the rage that enhanced his natural strength. It was not his to hold. Slowly, the red haze of anger began to fade, followed by despair and a depression so deep that Kozen didn't know if he would survive. Kaeto's fingers tightened, and they rode the anguish of past sins together.

"Here." Kaeto's voice had lost all physical properties. She manifested in his mind, as real as the wind but impossible to hold.

The flurry of images slowed, then cleared altogether. After so long with the rapid pace, Kozen felt sluggish viewing the vision in real time. They were in a forest, somewhere he didn't recognize. Kaeto stood by his side, her dual blades at the ready. He...hurt. Kozen looked down to find blood staining his fingers, though he couldn't say where it had come from. Dread rolled in waves off Kaeto, her face set in a stern mask. "I'll see you in the beyond," she called, her voice sounding farther away than her proximity suggested.

"In the beyond," Kozen answered, though he didn't remember thinking it.

The trees cracked, and a dragon broke through them in an explosion of fire. Its yellow eyes turned on Kaeto, and she attacked. The creature bellowed, then opened a great maw to devour them.

Kozen opened his eyes with a gasp. He felt the heat from the flames, the agony of his flesh melting from his bones, and the emptiness of Kaeto's life force being snuffed out. Bending forward, Kozen pressed his hands to the floor and followed them with his forehead. He took comfort in the cool reality of it.

Once his senses had returned, Kozen sat up to look at his lover. "What does it mean?"

"I didn't know for the longest time," Kaeto admitted. "But, after the vision of Valkorion, it must be connected to either him or Vaylin."

"We are to perish in battle, then," Kozen surmised, though the words were rhetorical. Kaeto nodded, her lekku sliding across her skin and catching in the candlelight. Kozen inhaled, then let it out slowly. "There is no more honorable way to go."

Kaeto shifted onto her knees, and Kozen knew what she wanted without needing to ask. He unfolded his legs and leaned back to allow Kaeto to slide one long leg across his thighs. She settled in his lap, fingers linked behind his neck. "Then, we accept our fate?"

Kozen's hands rested on her hips. He didn't smile, that wasn't his way, but he poured those emotions into their bond and felt her relax. "I have no intention of outliving you, Kaeto Vaa. If it is our fate to die, then I can think of no other to have at my side."

"As long as we are in agreement." Kaeto shifted her hips, and Kozen let the last of his doubt evaporate in the heat of her kiss.

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