Private The Archer

[Allyson Locke]

//: All My Enemies Started Out as Friends //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:

​

Footsteps paced back and forth in the small apartment. It was a temporary establishment that was bought under a false name, one that she had to come up with quickly. The last thing she needed was the Alliance and the SIA to know where she was staying. Her mind raced, trying to figure out the burn notice and the sudden bounties that were collecting on her head. Her pacing slowed as she looked up towards her ceiling and sighed heavily. She missed the fan that she used to stare at when she was on Coruscant. The white noise of the machine always brought some form of comfort to her. In this apartment, she only had a cold durasteel to look at.​

Frowning, Allyson looked down at the small side table, where a picture rested framed. It was one of the few items of personal belongings that she always took with her. Fingers wrapped around the small wooden frame, and she brought it close to her. Each face belonged to someone dear to her, she remembered when the photo was taken. The moment was during a brief time of peace where none of them had to be somewhere to be except with each other.​

Allyson wasn’t undercover, Loske and Maynard weren’t running Saber Squadron, and Ryv was able to be himself, not the Sword of the Jedi. All of them were able to be there for each other. Then it all collapsed, she went undercover, Loske, Maynard, and Ryv all went to war. A part of her wished she would have kept them away from her, she was nothing but cancer on their perfect friendship. She caused each of the pain, especially Ryv and Loske. A feeling of helplessness washed over her as she fought back the tears. If only she had been a good soldier and kept them away from her. If only she had followed orders, the ones given to her when she signed her life away to the shadows.​

Why didn’t she learn after Kaili? Even during her recovery, they kept her past from her - it was a sign, a big one that she was meant to be alone.​

She had to cut them off, it was the only way to protect them. Allyson knew the longer she stayed in the Empire territory and used their protection, she would be a liability. If she cut them all off, she would be able to protect them the best she could. The Sith knew about the K’paur species, not many knew about them, but the Sith knew so much. It would only make sense that they would use her to sense them, to hunt them, and Allyson couldn’t cause them any more pain. Frustration bubbled to the surface, and Allyson threw the picture frame against the wall, shattering the glass. Collapsing to her knees, she focused her mind. She needed to cut Loske off, she needed to protect the woman. Closing her eyes, she focused on the connection the pair shared. Despite everything, Allyson could feel the woman’s warmth and support - but it was plagued with confusion. Allyson knew precisely where the confusion was coming from, memories of Borosk filled her mind. She should have broken the bond there, but she couldn’t - she hoped that she could have kept it as a breadcrumb trail to lead her home.​

Focusing hard on the connection, she found her mind slip into a palace where she kept Loske. The hanger materialized, long rows of X-Wings parked, and two droids playing in the distance. Allyson walked down the row and stopped near the X-Wing she piloted, which was always parked next to Loske’s. It was reminiscent of their talk when she had first returned to the Alliance. The bright guiding light of the blonde lingered near her fighter, a small smile spread across Allyson’s face as she walked up and clung to the minimal warmth that she felt with the blonde.​

“Hey, Loske.” She sputtered and smiled, seeing the woman how she remembered her. Smiling and carefree, Loske would never know how human she made Allyson feel. The world could be burning, but as long as they laughed about something idiotic like Loske’s attempt at being a Shadow - everything was going to be okay.​

Allyson didn’t deserve that comfort anymore, she couldn’t depend on it anymore. It wasn’t fair to Loske, it would only kill her in the end.​

“I know, things really suck right now. I did something awful. I did a lot of bad things. You don’t deserve this, and I’m sorry. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t chase you out of the meeting.” Allyson sat down beside the blonde, who looked a bit confused about the conversation. The same glowing chains that Kaili had shown again on the other woman. Yet, unlike Kaili, she seemed unaware of them, and Allyson exhaled and continued trying not to cry.​

“I would have let you go, letting you think how horrible of a person I was. It would have been safer for both of us. I sometimes wonder if I had let that happen if I would have just died when my fighter went down. You were why I lived, you know that?” Allyson continued to muse over the moment. “If I would have died, I would have never have met Ryv or Maynard. I would have continued to be the ghost I always have been.” Allyson chuckled as a single tear rolled down her eyes. “Who am I kidding, I would have lived, but at least everyone wouldn’t have been damaged by the choices I made. I’m a Spy, Loske, I’m meant to be alone and to have only my secrets to keep me warm at night.”​

“I didn’t want any of this to happen, I didn’t plan on it. I tried to reach out for help, but I didn’t even know what kind of help I needed, and you couldn’t have helped me. I don’t think anyone could.” Opening her hand, a key appeared, and she reached towards the shackles and started to turn the first lock. “But this is going to hurt, and I’m sorry, but do your best to forget me.”​

The sudden pain of the bond starting to sever made the Corellian nauseous, and she tried to keep herself together.​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Let me help you, help you open up
​

Spectral planes took shape per the architect’s instruction. Every curve, line, divot, dent, imperfection were sculpted by the steel mind of Allyson Locke . This world was limitless and infinite, but Allyson had chosen to build and render the sentimental landscape.

The corporeal Kiffar, a replica of the Corellian’s interpretations, smiled and nodded and looked horrified and confused and all other emotional displays as Allyson would expect. All the actions were pre-scripted considerations, influenced by expectation alone. She mostly looked sad. Heavy.

Meanwhile, somewhere on the other end of the galactic map there was a physical piercing sensation that felt like a fist to her lungs. The instant shock and surprise wrenched her from her slumber and she blearily and blindly searched through herself to find the source.

This feeling was familiar.

Introspective exploration pointed to the flare and dim of one of the girl’s many tethers. It was like a knot within herself at this point, tangled and intrinsically tied. Nodes in her mind pulsed, and there was a sensation from one of the intersections she could explore and react to. She tugged on her end of the tether and it tightened the slack, the other end quivering loosely. A version of herself was being implored. The strain was impressive, and she could feel the tether growing tenuous. She had to intercept. This time in her mind, it was Allyson. Not Rae. The sadness was persistent, but it was from the origin which meant there was some sort of hope to exploit and nurture.

The version of Loske that wasn’t supposed to speak struggled to find a way to articulate in this world. The concepts in her mind evaded her grasp while the spy apologized and monologued until her intangible tongue was able to gather strength. She held her position, evading the shadows being cast where they shouldn’t be. The first mistake was making her dreamself complacent. A misrepresentation Loske had to rectify.

The memory of a hand would slip over Allyson’s, applying pressure to dissuade her actions. Brows knit and pushed her forehead down; concern taking shape and shadows in the outline of the luminescent replica of the pilot.

“What are you doing? Allyson, whe—“ the voice was stammered and startled, much thinner than the conviction she felt in real life. “You can’t undo things by making them worse. Why are you cutting everyone out?” She knew she’d done this to Kaili, the Allyson that was human was losing herself to the work.

Eventually, that ethereal voice sounded more to her real likeness and had strength behind it.

“Let me help you, please. Talk to me, you’re going through something and..I’m scared for you.”

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: All My Enemies Started Out as Friends //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:

​

Allyson paused; she hadn't expected the spectral version of the woman to talk back to her. Kaili had always spoken to Allyson because she needed it, Loske listened. The Kiffar was her place to shout, to yell to confide in. Secrets were what belonged in this place; it was also a place where Allyson could return to her roots, where she could feel the cold steel of the fighters and gossip about the newest tech that had come out. Dreams of the sky happened here, and Loske was her gateway. The woman almost had a glow to her, she was precious, she was so crucial to the Corellian. Allyson wanted to hold onto her, she wanted to believe that the Kiffar was on her side, but she knew deep in her heart that it wasn't the truth.​

Loske was loyal to her brother Ryv, the man that Allyson had ruined. Broken promises were all she was, lies, and broken promises. Looking at the memory of Loske, Allyson searched for a reason why she was talking. The only explanation was that Loske was in tune with the connection and was more aware of it than the K'paur had initially figured. Dumbfounded, Allyson stared and blinked at Loske as the woman finished and found her voice.​

"I have to do this Loske if I don't - they'll find you. They'll find Ryv and Maynard. They'll use you against me, force me into telling my secrets, our secrets." Shaking her head, she remembered the torment that happened because of her connection to Kaili. The way the Dark Lord sneered when he spoke the blonde woman's name. The hanger's walls shook as the voice of Carnifex echoed in the woman's mind. The real face of the Sith's soul flashed, never focusing as Allyson did her best to protect Loske from seeing the horror she had to know every time she closed her eyes.​

Each palace of her mind housed someone important to her, they were associated with her bonds to the people she cared most about. In the castles, she could hide from the demon that tormented her. She shook her head again as his voice continued to linger, finally speaking coherently enough for Loske to hear.​

Lies will get you nowhere, Jedi. One way or another, I will uncover the truth, even if you have to die a thousand times.

You know how this will end, Allyson, it is useless to pray for others to save you. I will break your body and your spirit.

And send my servants to find Kaili Talith so that she may die on the same altar that you will die on.​

Allyson clawed at her head as she fell into a panic, this wasn't supposed to happen this way. It should have been a clean break. The Dark Lord's maniacal laugh echoed as she stifled the screams that she remembered screaming as he dissected her. It stopped, and the Corellian covered her eyes. One of her darkest fears, her darkest memories revealed to someone she wanted to protect. Hands fell as she looked away from Loske, embarrassed at the memory, and how she couldn't control it. "It's better that I protect you guys any way I can. You saw what happened with Jorryn." Looking back at Loske, "I want to save her too." There was no reason to lie here with Loske; she always told this Loske the truth; her deepest secrets belonged to the woman.​

Allyson shook her head. "You can't help me. It's too late, Loske…"​

Allyson closed her eyes again and remembered the burn notice and the bounty that was posted by the New Imperial Order. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I don't know what happened. I'm so confused."​

The hanger faded as Allyson couldn't control what was happening anymore. Having to support the connection along with her own memory palace was wearing on the Corellian. "Nothing went according to plan on Borosk, everything went wrong. It was supposed to be to protect my cover…" The abandoned complex in the background returned, Loske and Allyson were returned to the Borosk battlefield memory. The others weren't there, no Ryv, no Maynard, and no Jorryn. The only two that stood there were Loske and Allyson, except Loske's lightsaber had struck truer than it did in reality. The length of the blade pierced through the chest of the Corellian.​

"We were supposed to fake a fight to protect my cover, protect my asset, and protect Jorryn. Ryv attacked - I didn't - It wasn't supposed to happen that way." Shaking her head, she stepped forward, the lightsaber cutting deeper into the Corellian. "I had to stay in the field - I couldn't go home with you, I have to save Jorryn as well. Loske, I lo--" Allyson stopped herself, her mind refocusing back onto the task she needed to take care of. The key looked to find it's way back into the first lock, which she had initially tried to unlock.​

"Loske, if I break all my bonds - you guys will be out of danger. If the SIS catches up to me and kills me, you won't have to worry about anything. I know about the burn notice and that I'm meant to be terminated." A sad, but an understanding smile crossed her face. ​

"Deniable assets work like that, we're good until we're broken and then we're discarded."​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

C O N T A M I N A T E D​

The apparition looked expectantly at Allyson while she said her piece. The feedback loop between the ethereal and the struggling Jedi was lagged, so the dreamlike pilot remained tight-lipped longer than the corporeal one would have preferred. Like she had to break through the stitches through her mouth each time.

Immediately Allyson put forward a hierarchy of people. A list of names in jeopardy if they were attached to the Corellian. They’d be exploited. Hunted down. If Loske stopped her from cutting the Kiffar out, her nearest and dearest would be in danger. It was Loske’s responsibility to save them from Allyson. Just by saying that, it was clear how the blonde could be manipulated. Name dropping and hinting threats at her relationships was all it took to make her second-guess her convictions.

It compounded when a wicked voice reverberated around the hangar. Loske immediately knew who this belonged to. It was the boasts of Carnifex, but his parity in her mind’s eye was Vornskr. The man who’d scarred her mother. The man responsible for Loske being unable to be anything evil, ugly or wretched. He’d had such a nightmarish impact on Kiskla Grayson she’d had to re-centre her life in The Force, unable to fully align with the light side so easily again. The reason her DNA had been tainted and therefore been misshapenly spliced into Loske’s essence. Why Loske, for all her manufacturing, couldn’t access Vaapad.

It almost made her vomit.

It's just- I think the best we can hope for is to get her back, maybe try and take her to someone who might know more about this than us. Because I'm just not sure the two of us, Ryv or really anyone else can really help her as it is unfortunately."

She couldn’t second guess it. This person in front of her, a figment of a plane Loske couldn’t describe was still human. To err was human. Allyson certainly erred irrevocably enough to not be a machine.

Finally, she tore through the threads that kept her mouth too heavy to move. She attacked the notion of Jorr first –– not denying the plausibility of that...Echani. Loske didn't know her. She couldn't be an arbiter like that. “How are you going to save her if you can’t save yourself? What's your definition of salvation?”

"Deniable assets work like that, we're good until we're broken and then we're discarded."

The last line shattered Loske’s real-life heart. The specter flinched.

“You’re trying to make a very human choice in a world that doeesn’t want you to be human.” The wears of war were evidencing themselves in all her relationships. Ryv was losing himself. Maynard and her had talked about leaving. “Maybe you need a new world. One you make for you.”

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: My Twisted Knife //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:

​

Allyson stopped as the hilt of the saber didn't let her go farther into the blade. Her white shirt stained with a pool of blood despite the cauterizing of the wound from the ion blade. The pain seared and burned into her, Allyson knew this was part of the bond's shattering. She was curious about how it was affecting Loske since she had managed to connect to the memory palace. Allyson slipped the key into the lock and held it there for a moment, listening to her voice of reason.​

Loske could ask the questions that everyone wanted to know the answer to. She was able to dig deep and pull the exact problem that needs a solution that could change the galaxy. Surprise appeared on Allyson's face as she tilted her head at Loske's question of salvation. The Corellian had never thought about it, nor had anyone ever ask her what it meant to her. Salvation was something she had been looking for since she was a teenager. Every sacrifice had been her attempted step towards the redemption that she searched for. Guilt had been at her core since she dug her parents from the rubble after Corellia's breaking. Sin was what fueled her when she remembered having to bury them in an unmarked grave because there weren't enough places to bury the dead. The first cut was always the deepest, and the gashes that tore through her heart were never-ending. She never returned to Corellia to fix what she couldn't when she was fourteen.​

"Salvation. Oh, Loske." She repeated as she continued to think about it. She shook her head and looked down at the saber that bore through her chest. Two hands gripped the handle, pulling it from the Kiffar and gave it a twist before removing it. "I've been saving myself for as long as I could remember. After my parents died, after Ember died, I had no one. There wasn't even anyone to come save me from the grips of Dark Lord of the Sith."​

Allyson pulled at the bloody t-shirt almost confused at it, blood stained her hands and dripped to the ground. "I had to save myself. I had to live long enough so I could figure out how the force collar worked. Its flawed technology allowed a moment where I could barely touch the force. Do you know how much strength you have after being tortured mentally and physically for hours? Not much. You know how much faith and hope you have in people after being tortured for months? None."​

She paused as she tried to wipe her hands clean of the blood that covered them as it flowed over her hands. "But I found it, I found the strength to break the collar and crawl my mutilated body from Bastion's depths. Even then, the SIS had already written me off as dead." Sighing softly, Allyson tried to rebuild the hanger and bring it back to something more comforting. The world changed, taking them from the battlefield of Borosk back to the pristine hanger of the Alliance. Allyson stared at Loske. "I was still a child. I was easy to manipulate by the SIS, and I understand that now. If I could do it again, I'd have stayed just being a pilot with the Rogues. But something made me want to do more, I thought it would bring me salvation a way to be delivered from my previous sins." Hands returned to the key as a shadow manifested, looming over the Corellian. At first, it shied away from the brightness of the ethereal spirit of the Kiffar, but as Allyson continued, it grew stronger, wrapping itself around her like a protective keeper.​

The Corellian's voice quivered as she spoke, "I can't let the Emperor do anything to Jorryn. She's important to me, to everything. Just like you, Maynard and Ryv are. If I leave her in the Empire, she'll become like them." Allyson's face showed the determination that mixed with the concern for the Ecahni, it was evident she was enamored with the paramour. "Saving her will be my salvation Loske. I ruined things with Kaili because I didn't follow my heart, this is my chance to do right by how I feel."​

There was hesitation as she tried to ignore the last part of her friend's speech. To create a world, a new world. Allyson wondered where that was coming from, did Loske not want her to go back? Was there a way that she could create such a world? Allyson shook her head, "All I've ever wanted was to be human. I don't remember a time where I ever was. I'm a shadow, a spy, a cog in the ever-churning machine called the Alliance and the Jedi. Don't you see it? I wanted to believe everything Ryv spoke about - how we were important and how I was something important, especially to him."​

The shadow grew more substantial and held onto the Corellian tightly as she spoke of the Jedi Knight. "I wanted to give him my heart, but something - something was always there stopping me. We would talk about doing things after the war, but there was always something. I felt like I was reaching out, and he never reached back. It was like I was always chasing after him, trying to do my job well so that he would look at me and tell me I'm doing a good job. I didn't want to burden him with my problems. I didn't want to tell him that I was falling apart and breaking. I was scared, Loske."​

She turned the key, and the first shackle fell from the blonde woman's wrist, pain surged through Allyson as she felt as if a hot blade was twisting in her heart. Her apparition winced and clutched her chest tightly.​

"I was scared that the moment I showed that I was broken - he would choose to sacrifice me to the cause. He's a good Jedi, the greater good came first above everything. I know in my heart that if it came down to choosing to save the Alliance or me." She smiled and nodded. "The Alliance would be saved." Her smile showed her sadness, but acceptance as to what her fate had become. "With Jorryn, Kaili, and you - you make me feel like I'm alive." It hurt Allyson knowing that she needed to break this bond, it was everything to her, Loske was her person - the one she could be herself around.​

"I just want to come home Loske, but all the choices I made following my karking heart have taken it away. I don't want to leave her behind - but I want to come home...I want to come home Loske", Allyson sobbed, her hands coming to her face as her voice echoed in the hanger.​

"Please don't give up on me."​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

It wasn’t until after she asked the question did she realize the scene had transformed. The room of the palace undulated to replicate where the betrayal had taken place. The loss of confidence saturated the landscape, and blood saturated everything else.

The girl across the galaxy was sweating, her skin cold but the perspiration hot. The girl in the vision was chained and driving a weapon into her friend’s body. It looked horrible. Loske had struck Allyson on Borosk, but she’d hesitated for the most part. In this rendition, Allyson’s interpretation, there was no hesitation. Only power behind the wound. She hated how it felt, and was horrified that some of the warmth from the Corellian’s blood was tangible. In her bed, she mewled in protest. She wanted to step backward, stagger away from the scene and put her hands above her head to show her innocence but the dream girl didn’t do that.

Her question triggered Allyson to unfurl her lore. Her struggles. Ones that they hadn’t crossed in real life. The glowing silhouette of the ace was immobile, an intrigued but pained audience. She watched helplessly while something dark loomed around the shoulders of her friend, a misshapen influence she couldn’t place. Was it the clutches of this Echani she was so enamoured by? The shadows of guilt of the past? An embodiment of her sins? She tried to peer, squint, interpret what it was but she couldn’t tell. It was dark, and it whispered the same names that Allyson had listed to pull at Loske’s heart strings. To make her want to protect them.

Stay a pilot. Loske could attest to that sentiment. She’d been her paternal donor’s favourite — he’d tried to shield her from the truth of being a Jedi and nurture her wings instead. Let her have a life not so worn and weighed by arbitrary duty and altruistically driven purpose.

Allyson had survived. Liberated herself from scenario after scenario but hadn’t saved herself. If she’d been saved, they wouldn’t be here now.

Jorr. An affectionate abbreviation for the Inquisitor Allyson had chosen to ally with. Someone who needed redemption. Someone who Ryv had looked upon and seen nothing but the monstrosities of her sins. All the deaths caused direct, and indirectly by her. Peoples lives couldn’t be stepping stones to vindication. Instead of penetrating the world created by her friend, Loske only listened. Giving into the naturalness of the bond and saving her energy.

She knew The Alliance was a machine. That everyone was a cog. She’d come to terms with it because she had Maynard — they’d created an objective at the end of the tunnel worth slogging for. Then they could leave because, like a cog, they were replaceable. New heroes would rise just as new enemies would.

The dark cloud grew around Allyson, and Loske could only watch. Until she couldn’t. The words hurt to hear. She forced her reflection to look away, down at the ground that had changed again. More metallic. Ryv was losing himself. He’d been right.

I'm trying to set an example for people, be a good Jedi, make the difference no one else can make. I just think I'm losing who I am. I'm becoming what everyone expects of me.​

Giving himself so much to the cause that he couldn’t reciprocate to someone he’d been so smitten with. It had become an undoing point in the relationship between the Knight and Master and Loske in real life felt hot tears starting to line her clenched lids. What a hurtful dynamic Allyson painted.

She opened her mouth to speak —- perhaps if only to defend her brother, but was stopped short.

Somewhere between the time, she’d put her hand over the lock, to wielding a weapon, metaphysical Loske’s hands had become useless to object to Allyson's decisions.

The pain jerked her awake and broke her connection. The metaphysical mirror flickered. All that remained was Allyson’s interpretation. Desperately, Loske screwed her eyes shut — searching, feeling, clawing for that connection again, and abstaining from giving into the pain that stretched through her throat, lungs, shoulders. She had to be stronger than this and not give in to despair.

Persevering, she wrapped that tether around her fingers, then wrist, grappling it toward her chest until she was allowed to re-emerge in the scene with the Corellian again. Voiceless once more, but had only missed a heartbeat or two the explanation.

She found her words, they were hoarse while she reconnected. “Stop that. That’s — you cant know that until it happened. And hope it never does.” Still, she could appreciate the importance of choice. Especially reveling in the knowledge of knowing you were the choice, above all else.

Verklempt, her throat felt like sandpaper, cheeks hollowed. That sentence had drained her after part of that connection had been cut. In real life, she was shaking.

Allyson was not a quisling. She was just so lost, and out of human touch and relationships that she was magnetized to anyone who reciprocated in ways that made her feel whole. The blonde’s faux palm stretched out to cup the cheek of her friend in soft care.

What was home? Allyson couldn’t possibly mean that machine she’d damned earlier. The Core? It must have been the people. She needed to come back to the people, feel welcome again.

Allyson was breaking her heart. Everything ludic about Loske was annihilated in the duration of this conversation. What was left was a sad, enervated shell.

Returning back to the people, after mutilating the son of coruscant would be an uphill battle. She must have known that. She must have wanted that so badly.

"Please don't give up on me."​

Emboldened by wanting to give her friend that chance she so desperately sought, Loske pierced through the cosmograyal barrier. Previously paralyzed hands gripped the key in Allyson’s hands, yanking it toward her. The strain melded the real world and the interpretation, her effortful grunt transcending the waking Jedi and the metaphysical pilot.

“Don’t give me any reason to.” Her knuckles tightened, fingers curling around the key. The metaphysical skin of her imagined hand briefly brushing against the Corellian’s who still held the key.

It was a shorter instruction than what she wanted to say. If you ever threaten Maynard, I’ll kill you. If you ever threaten Ryv again, I’ll kill you.

The chance for Allyson was swinging on a pendulum that Loske could only keep controlled contingently. As dear to her as Allyson was, she had to keep her focus on who she’d welcome back. How far gone was too far to welcome?

Her palm pressed so tightly against the machination of Allyson’s mind that she could almost feel the sensation of true, cool metal. Those tears that had formed earlier penetrated the barrier between the dream and reality. Loske’s real lips moved in tandem with the spectres. The words fluctuated between whispers, hitched breath, and punctuated volume. The plead was shaky, the final promise more convicted.

“Please don’t give me any reason to give up on you,

And I won’t.”

She wrenched her wrists in opposing directions, the force she focused piercing through the structure of the ethereal key used to unlock her binds. It quivered until it shattered, shards crumbling and the golden dust joining the blood-drenched hands of the emotional enigma.

A loud gasp snapped her from the dream and she felt as if her chest were collapsing in on itself. Light eyes snapped open and she sunk deeper into the mattress. As if she were made entirely of stone with a head of swirling winds. The tears ran from the outside corner of her eyes to the sides of her face and into her ears while she lay on her back.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: With You, I Serve, With You, I Fall Down //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Loske Treicolt //:

​

Allyson hated this. She hated the bonds she had created with people, the relationships causing them the pain of being around her, and now the pain of breaking them. Why was she like this? Why did she want to continually reach for a life that didn’t belong to her? Allyson hated her mother, why did she have to be a K’paur? If she was unable to make the bonds she did and the strength she did, all of this would be painless. Allyson would have been able to remain the enigma. Yet, hearing Loske’s voice vibrate in her heart reminded her of the warmth of the bond. Each and every moment, the Corellian had shared with the other woman. ​

They flew together, they fought together, they laughed, and now they cried together. Allyson felt the bond repairing itself as she remembered the memories. The key pulled from her grasp she blinked, what was she doing? Allyson didn’t reach back for it but listened to what Loske had to say. She was somehow connecting with her friend, and this wasn’t the Loske that was created from memory. She nodded, but her sad smile still remained on her face. ​

“There’s always a condition. It's okay, I understand - really.” She spoke quietly, as the Kiffar shattered the key. She knew with the key gone, Loske didn’t need to be here anymore - the strain on both of them was draining, and Allyson didn’t know how much longer the memory palace was going to remain together. There was no intention to make the woman feel any guilt. Loske had human connections, while Allyson held onto anything that remotely made her feel human. Still, she spoke as the gold dust collected on her bloodied hands. “Loske, I love you. You’re like a sister to me.” Her voice was soft and broken as she confessed her truth on the blonde. “You could fall so far to the dark side, destroy galaxies, and even kill the person I love.” She paused, knowing that the latter could come true at any moment, “I would still love you because there are no conditions for me when it comes to you. Maybe I’m foolish, but...” ​

As Loske was pulled from the specter that had been her anchor to this world, she shimmered away for the time being. Allyson finished still wondering if the woman had even heard any of her confession. “You’re the closest thing to family I have - I wish someone would love me the same way.” ​

Allyson faded into the darkness that held her, and the sanctuary she had built for her memories disappeared. She emerged in the middle of her apartment once more. Coughing and struggling to breathe, she crawled her way to the center of her living room. Rolling onto her back, she looked at the cold ceiling again. Something was in her hand, and she held up the photo of the four of them. Blood stained the corners of the picture, and she realized that she had cut her hand on the broken glass from before. Allyson felt sick to her stomach, she had failed at freeing Loske from the bond they shared. It felt as if the woman fought back, not wanting to lose what they had together. Allyson wanted to believe that it was because she wanted to help bring her home, but something lurked in the back of her mind. ​

The voice of Taeli Raaf spoke quietly in her ear. Because they never appreciated you in the first place. Allyson closed her eyes and shook her head; there were too many voices trying to pull her in so many different ways. “Why did you do this, Loske?” Groaning, the Corellian sat in silence until a knock at the door, and the sound of a lyrical voice echoed as footsteps entered. The woman’s words were muffled, but a sudden warmth enveloped the Corellian as she was fussed over. A small smile spread across her face as she sighed and then cried into the woman’s shoulder. ​

You could even kill the person I love...I would still love you.​

Maybe she was a fool.​