Even in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, her mind was on Coruscant.
It started like it usually did. She was in her office, and- no. Her old office? The Senator of Epoch’s…
That haunting laugh echoed through the room. Her body seized up. It was not fear that took her; strangely enough, she had never feared him, terrifying as he was. This was a scene she so often buried deep in her mind.
That flesh-suit, Kaigann Fossk, entered. He smiled, the sort of smile that he’d had before tearing off his mask, and gestured for her to sit; she didn’t move, she was already sitting. Her knuckles were white on the armrests.
He spoke, but it was a blur; she wouldn’t be able to recall the next morning. Nonetheless his meaning was clear — I know you.
Hatred was foreign to her, but anger was an acquaintance. In the face of this man who had taken so much from the galaxy, so much from her, her blood ran white-hot.
She rose from her chair, back in her office. There was movement in the corner of her eye; she turned, finding her reflection in the window-turned-mirror. Fossk stared back at her. He smiled. With a thought the mirror shattered, only darkness behind it.
The Jedi entered her room, their faces dark. Lucien, Kirie, Romi, Nimdok, Saan’an, Morteg- the little green Jedi crumpled when she looked at him, split in half, smoke rising from the lightsaber wound. Her heart seized up, and she tried to speak, only for sand to begin to pour from her mouth. The lies wouldn’t come.
Lucien and Kirie were gone. Romi opened her mouth; sand spilled out. She looked at Auteme with hate. Nimdok, too, spat sand. His eyes were empty at first, and then filled with death.
The sand didn’t stop. She ran, stumbling at first, but soon sprinting down the hallway of the Temple, up the stairs, far as she could, right into-
The last time she’d been to the Jedi Council’s chambers, the Temple was shattered. It was exactly as she remembered. And they were there, too; Bernard, Aeris, Dagon, Allyson, Asmundr, Aaran. They looked at her, pity and disappointment flitting across their faces. Solemnly they opened their mouths to speak. Sand spilled from their mouths, and hate filled their gaze.
It forced her from the room once more, and she ran out, out, away, a flood of sand surging in her wake. She made it out of the Temple and into the Processional Way. Coating its entire length was a sea of people. The faces were hard to parse, but she recognized many from Epoch and Coruscant. When they saw her they cheered, adoration across their faces, as they, too, vomited sand, in her honour.
She managed to stem the sand coming from her own mouth, but it was no reprieve as a wave surged from the Temple. The people below didn’t seem to notice, still cheering for her as they were put beneath the waves of sand. By some miracle she stayed afloat, surfing atop the rising sand as it rose past Coruscant’s highest spires. The new landscape looked more like the deserts of Korriban, only the temperature was nowhere near as forgiving. A cold laugh mocked her distantly as the sun beat down on her relentlessly.
Until, suddenly, it didn’t. The sky turned dark, as though someone had turned off the lightswitch of the star, and she could see little for a moment. The sandy floor gave out from under her. Yet, while it fell one way, she fell the other, sent farther and farther from the planet. She saw Coruscant, shining so bright, against a canopy of distant stars. For a moment she could breathe. She slowed to a stop, as though someone had caught her.
Someone had.
The pale face of Darth Solipsis emerged from the darkness, grinning and wild-eyed, while she laid in his dark hand. He lurched forward tauntingly, then drew back, his hand reaching down not to her but to Coruscant, black claws wrapping around it. It was gentle at first, and then the claws cracked the crust. Like an animal in its death throes, Coruscant’s light glimmered, until she saw the light go out of its eyes. Solipsis’ fist closed. He left her with that vicious cackle.
Auteme opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The Treicolts had repainted the guest room, but the bed still creaked when she rolled around, so she didn’t move. Like flexing old muscles she began her breathing exercises, returning her focus, finding the flow of the Force calm and cool in the moments before dawn. She matched it and centered herself.
The anger deep in her gut was soothed into submission, but it would not disappear fully. To be mocked the night after visiting Ryv – unforgivable. There she lay, in the home of some of her oldest friends, while her mind was a thousand lightyears away. Strangely she felt more alone here than on Coruscant.
But the loneliness here was satisfying. Here, Solipsis was dead, and she was not.
It started like it usually did. She was in her office, and- no. Her old office? The Senator of Epoch’s…
That haunting laugh echoed through the room. Her body seized up. It was not fear that took her; strangely enough, she had never feared him, terrifying as he was. This was a scene she so often buried deep in her mind.
That flesh-suit, Kaigann Fossk, entered. He smiled, the sort of smile that he’d had before tearing off his mask, and gestured for her to sit; she didn’t move, she was already sitting. Her knuckles were white on the armrests.
He spoke, but it was a blur; she wouldn’t be able to recall the next morning. Nonetheless his meaning was clear — I know you.
Hatred was foreign to her, but anger was an acquaintance. In the face of this man who had taken so much from the galaxy, so much from her, her blood ran white-hot.
She rose from her chair, back in her office. There was movement in the corner of her eye; she turned, finding her reflection in the window-turned-mirror. Fossk stared back at her. He smiled. With a thought the mirror shattered, only darkness behind it.
The Jedi entered her room, their faces dark. Lucien, Kirie, Romi, Nimdok, Saan’an, Morteg- the little green Jedi crumpled when she looked at him, split in half, smoke rising from the lightsaber wound. Her heart seized up, and she tried to speak, only for sand to begin to pour from her mouth. The lies wouldn’t come.
Lucien and Kirie were gone. Romi opened her mouth; sand spilled out. She looked at Auteme with hate. Nimdok, too, spat sand. His eyes were empty at first, and then filled with death.
The sand didn’t stop. She ran, stumbling at first, but soon sprinting down the hallway of the Temple, up the stairs, far as she could, right into-
The last time she’d been to the Jedi Council’s chambers, the Temple was shattered. It was exactly as she remembered. And they were there, too; Bernard, Aeris, Dagon, Allyson, Asmundr, Aaran. They looked at her, pity and disappointment flitting across their faces. Solemnly they opened their mouths to speak. Sand spilled from their mouths, and hate filled their gaze.
It forced her from the room once more, and she ran out, out, away, a flood of sand surging in her wake. She made it out of the Temple and into the Processional Way. Coating its entire length was a sea of people. The faces were hard to parse, but she recognized many from Epoch and Coruscant. When they saw her they cheered, adoration across their faces, as they, too, vomited sand, in her honour.
She managed to stem the sand coming from her own mouth, but it was no reprieve as a wave surged from the Temple. The people below didn’t seem to notice, still cheering for her as they were put beneath the waves of sand. By some miracle she stayed afloat, surfing atop the rising sand as it rose past Coruscant’s highest spires. The new landscape looked more like the deserts of Korriban, only the temperature was nowhere near as forgiving. A cold laugh mocked her distantly as the sun beat down on her relentlessly.
Until, suddenly, it didn’t. The sky turned dark, as though someone had turned off the lightswitch of the star, and she could see little for a moment. The sandy floor gave out from under her. Yet, while it fell one way, she fell the other, sent farther and farther from the planet. She saw Coruscant, shining so bright, against a canopy of distant stars. For a moment she could breathe. She slowed to a stop, as though someone had caught her.
Someone had.
The pale face of Darth Solipsis emerged from the darkness, grinning and wild-eyed, while she laid in his dark hand. He lurched forward tauntingly, then drew back, his hand reaching down not to her but to Coruscant, black claws wrapping around it. It was gentle at first, and then the claws cracked the crust. Like an animal in its death throes, Coruscant’s light glimmered, until she saw the light go out of its eyes. Solipsis’ fist closed. He left her with that vicious cackle.
Auteme opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The Treicolts had repainted the guest room, but the bed still creaked when she rolled around, so she didn’t move. Like flexing old muscles she began her breathing exercises, returning her focus, finding the flow of the Force calm and cool in the moments before dawn. She matched it and centered herself.
The anger deep in her gut was soothed into submission, but it would not disappear fully. To be mocked the night after visiting Ryv – unforgivable. There she lay, in the home of some of her oldest friends, while her mind was a thousand lightyears away. Strangely she felt more alone here than on Coruscant.
But the loneliness here was satisfying. Here, Solipsis was dead, and she was not.
