Private The Body Electric

[Jacen Nimdok]

Shortly after the invasion of Dantooine...

Nimdok had a feeling he would never forget the sight of Jen Rand rushing ahead of him just to get into the lift faster. She didn’t bother trying to hold the doors open for him, but he managed to get there in time, sliding through just before they shut.

He stood beside her as she pressed the button that would lead them to the ward Starlin was in, then crossed her arms over her chest, staring straight ahead.

“This is technically your fault, you know,” she said.

Nimdok looked at her. Even in grief, with eyes red-rimmed from crying, she was beautiful. By contrast his face was pale, almost sallow in the unflattering elevator lighting, his harsh alien features set in stern, worried lines. He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, swallowing.

“I know.”

“Why did you have to tell him to steal artifacts for you?” she went on, pain evident in her strained voice. “Hell, why did you have to introduce him to this Syd woman in the first place?”

“I don’t have an excuse for what happened at Dantooine,” he murmured. “But I sent him to Syd Celsius because I thought that was what was best for him.”

She stared at him, her lips thinned. But the doors opened before she could say anything more, and the urge to see her son took precedence over her anger at Nimdok. Jen ran down the hallway, her eyes scanning the walls until she found Starlin’s room number and disappeared inside. Nimdok followed at a much more reserved pace, each step filled with dread and self-loathing.

Starlin lay on a bed, his right arm stretched out so the medical droids could examine and operate on it. As reported, the limb ended in a stump at the wrist where his hand had once been. Nimdok shouldn’t have been surprised, but seeing the proof of what had occurred on Dantooine was still… unpleasant.

He turned his gaze to Starlin himself. Jen had taken his surviving left hand in hers, trying to speak to him. “Starlin? Baby, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here now.”

Hopped up on painkillers, the Padawan floated in and out of consciousness, only vaguely aware of the presence of his mother. Nimdok was hesitant to approach him, wondering if the boy also blamed him for what had happened. For putting him up to the theft of artifacts which had drawn Cotan Sar'andor ’s ire, and for putting him on this path in the first place.

Nimdok knew Syd was there. As his master and mentor, she had to be by her young charge’s side in his hour of need. Though he had specifically sent Starlin to Zeffo knowing the boy would encounter her at the ruins, Nimdok had never met her before. These were hardly the circumstances he would have hoped for at their first introduction, but beggars can't be choosers.

Syd Celsius

 

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: Inferno Gown

Armed with: Wind and Fire Wheels

Objective: Freak the Feth out


Aboard the Absolution of Loste, fringes of SJC Space


It wouldn't attach. His flesh refused to fuse back together, no matter what strange magic Syd tried throughout the night as she treated him for Shock. She had stabilized him, the stump mocking her.

She had suffered an anxiety attack that same night, aboard Laertia's Stealth Equipped Gozanti Cruiser. She couldn't fix his arm. No matter what she did, she couldn't fix his arm. Laertia had opened the ship up to treat surviving, comatose Jedi taken alive by Obsidian Knights, even frantically sending out an emergency request to her 'Grand Mother' Darth Themis for more hands to treat the injured, who were then to be found on a shuttle on autopilot for the Silver Rest . She had mysteriously kept her distance but had sent strange Light Side Force Adepts and medical droids. Syd didn't know who they were...they refused to identify themselves...Laertia was tight lipped on their origins, saying it was a need to know situation. Syd, too distressed over Starlin, hadn't questioned it.

After he had been stabilized. She had collapsed next to his bed, sobbing on the floor at how she had failed him, and at how much she was still a monster in the guise of a beautiful woman.

She had had no choice. She sent out the transmission to Jacen Nimdok and his mother, telling them what had happened. She had slipped into her Bronze, floor length Dress and prepared herself. Laertia was still at work on Starlin's new cyber hand while recovering from her own injuries, equally ashamed for her role in his.

Starlin had been sent to recover in the advanced med bay, sequestered under golden lights. Syd waited in a seat in a dark corner of the bay and felt sick as she watched Starlin be approached by his actual mother. She got up, approaching them both, the mysterious Light Adepts treating others remaining silent, glancing at the three occasionally as they worked to treat others.

"I'm the one you should be angry at..." Syd said quietly to Jen Rand and Nimdok.

"I'm Syd..." she introduced herself, face full of guilt and misery. "Its not Starlin's fault. The fault is mine. I failed him."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Syd Celsius

Jen had begun speaking to one of the doctors attending to her son, determined to learn everything about Starlin's current status. Nimdok's gaze was drawn to the distinct symbol on the doctor's uniform. Serpents of Ashla. A very unusual cult of Light Siders dating to the Reconstruction Era. He didn't know they were still around. Interesting...

When Syd made herself known, Jen reacted in the coldest manner possible—she completely ignored her, continuing to grill the doctor as if Syd had never spoken. Nimdok gave Syd a pitying look. In her crumpled expression he found his misery in good company.

Dressed in a black gown, the Flame Geist quietly introduced herself, immediately assuming the blame for what had happened and proclaiming her failure. Nimdok had read the hastily-compiled report on the events of the battle and knew roughly what had occurred. Part of him thought Starlin was a little too young to be rushing off into battle, but then he could not accurately gauge the boy's progress and skill level. He was not an expert in Jedi training, but Starlin had been nearly fourteen when he first sent him to Zeffo... he was seventeen now, pushing eighteen.

“Professor Nimdok,” he said, starting to hold out his hand, then thinking better of it. “I… disagree with your assessment, Ms. Celsius. If anything, I should be held responsible. I was the one who asked Starlin to take the artifacts from the Enclave.”

Granted, Starlin having thrown his weight in with Syd and Laertia meant he would’ve likely been facing someone like Cotan Sar'andor on the battlefield anyway, but the circumstances would’ve been different. Easier, perhaps. Nimdok feared that Starlin had felt forced to continue the duel because he wanted to keep the artifacts; if Cotan truly believed what Starlin had found in the Enclave archives was dangerous, he would never have let the Padawan go even if he had attempted to retreat.

“What do you mean, you can’t reattach his hand?!” Jen demanded, her anguished voice cutting over the conversation between Nimdok and Syd.

The doctor responded in a calm, measured tone. “His hand was badly burned by the blade when it passed through his wrist. The damage to his nerves in particular make it unsalvageable.”

“What the hell are you going to do about it, then?”

“A cybernetic hand is being prepared for him as we speak,” the doctor continued. “It will be attached to the nerves in his arm. He will have sensation and mobility, and it will look real.”

Starlin was starting to awaken, though his eyelids fluttered and he clearly wasn’t all there. He saw his mother and managed to whisper, “Hi, Mom.”

Jen stooped over him, stroking his head and kissing his brow. Her hair screened her face from view, but the tremble in her shoulders made it clear she was crying.

Nimdok glanced at Syd and motioned toward the door. “Perhaps we should give them some privacy,” he suggested.

 

[Darth Themis]

Meanwhile, in the fringes of Atrisian Space

Darth Themis lay on her bed weeping, inconsolable. She wanted to get drunk. Had tried to. But her metabolism burned through it too fast. She was as sober as ever.

She hadn't seen it. Her emotional and spiritual connection to her Grand Daughter had completely clouded her vision to the disaster she now faced.

She had failed Julia, failed Julia's parents...all if that horror and sorrow and death for nothing.

Darth Phyre was alive.

When she had seen her on the feed within Silver Space, floating next to a defiant Julia ready to rebel against the Order, Themis had sent spies. Their secret escapade after Atrisia with Alyosha Drutin had allowed them to find other genuine Light Sith. (Yet to be written)

Their spies had confirmed her horrid suspicion: Phyre had become Julia's Lover.

Themis knew Julia didn't know who Syd Celsius as she called herself actually was. She knew Julia enough to know Julia would have murdered her already if she knew.

Themis was trapped: If she did nothing, Phyre's triumph was complete. If she did something, Julia would find out she had taken the one who had murdered her parents as her paramour, which would mentally destroy Julia. Themis was no fool as to the stress Julia was under: She had completely rebelled against the Jedi Order to maintain what she viewed as a necessary alliance to destroy the Bryn'adul. She had thrown away every ounce of goodwill in the SJC. Every ounce. Julia was already on the verge of a complete breakdown from the stress of the past two years...the revelation of who Syd was would send her into a possibly irreversible spiral to insanity.

Themis was trapped. She had no idea what to do.

None except to call Alyosha, asking him over to her Stealth Praxeum, The Ashla's Platter, not as her student, but as a friend to seek advice from. She hadn't told him yet, but she knew he considered Julia a friend on some level, and would be doubtless horrified at the reveal also.

She didn't even know how Phyre was in this era. She knew she had arranged for Phyre to be killed, but centuries of her spirit suffering in The Black Flames had left holes in her memory, gaps she was still piecing together.

The Bright Lord needed to see this from an outside perspective. Because she was on the verge of a breakdown herself...

Themis lay on her bed, throwing her latest tissue from crying into the wastebasket next to her matress, waiting from a request to dock signal from him...

Meanwhile...

Syd looked to Jacen Nimdok as he suggested they give Starlin Rand and his mother some room.

She agreed, leaving the medical ward of the cruiser with him, knowing she was the last person his mother wanted to talk to right now.

When they left the ward, Syd's head hung down in shame and she rubbed her eyes in grief.

"I should have been firmer with him, about giving up the Artifacts. But there was so much chit going on that day...it was pure chaos...I felt his hand get severed..." she said, unconsciously touching the hand where she felt the plasma of Cotan Sar'andor shear through his flesh.

"You may have told him...but I was there..." was her next words to the Shi'ido.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Darth Themis

The first thing Alyosha had heard was “Laertia’s got a girlfriend”. Then it was “Laertia’s got a girlfriend who’s actually a Sith Lord, but she doesn’t know it”. Someone had the gall to trick Laertia like that? The thought alone was enough to turn Alyosha’s stomach.

Then the full story came through, and it finally clicked. This wasn’t just some Dark Sider chick pulling a fast one. There was a history to this.

Darth Phyre, Julia Crownwraithe, please come quickly...

Ah, hell. If Themis was calling for his help, this was gonna get messy, wasn’t it?

His freighter, the Harlock, emerged from hyperspace near Ashla’s Platter. He sent the request signal immediately. Any reservations he might have had about getting involved in what sounded like a… well, a “family matter” seemed distant and void somehow. Instead, he felt a familiar tugging. The Force wanted him here.

~~~​

Now that he was alone with Syd, Nimdok found himself in a position not dissimilar from Themis. The fear that Syd had felt when she first met Starlin on Zeffo, that Nimdok might know who she really was, wasn’t completely unfounded.

Starlin needed a master. His supposed lineage dating back to the Jedi Exile and Atton Rand notwithstanding, his instant connection to the ancient crystal he had inherited proved to Nimdok that the boy had potential. Potent, profound potential, the sort that needed to be honed, properly and with great care. Merely sending him off to the Silver Rest wasn’t going to cut it—the boy’s spirit and uniqueness would’ve been crushed into the Silver mold. He would’ve emerged out the other end just like any other Jedi Knight, fodder for the endless wars, food for the blood gods—or, if he the pressure had been enough to break him, a wasted life lay ahead of him in Coruscant’s underbelly. Nimdok refused to let either route play out.

Enter Syd Celsius. He had checked her background extensively before sending the boy to her, and had his suspicions about her true identity based on various pieces of information he had been able to dredge up. The fact remained that she was a very skilled and experienced Jedi Master who had put in a request for an apprentice. Nimdok had eagerly taken her up on her offer. He was not a Jedi, but he was an archaeologist, and Syd had an interest in ruins and artifacts which matched his own.

Unlike Themis, Nimdok believed Syd had redeemed herself, or was well on the path back to the Light by now. Her behavior showed that she was eager to please and be accepted among the Jedi despite receiving a lukewarm reception from the Silvers, many of whom looked upon her existence with some trepidation. After all, alchemy was a Sith practice forbidden to the Jedi. The very idea of a Light Side being created from such methods was ludicrous at best, horrific at worst. While Nimdok supposed they were right, he wasn’t going to hold it against her. All the records indicated her transformation had been forced upon her…

… and this fact was also the one weak link which threatened to break the chain. If her conversion to the Light had been unwillingly forced, was it genuine?

Her attitude and actions within the past few weeks had brought all his old doubts back to the surface. She had chosen to side with the Sith following the disastrous decision of the Elder Council, along with her lover Laertia Io, and Starlin had been dragged into it with them. Evidently Syd held a much greater amount of influence over her Padawan’s way of thinking than he realized.

Nimdok had taken a risk by sending Starlin to her, knowing the sort of person she had once been, but he would be damned if he allowed him to slip through a crack that was rapidly widening into a chasm, where he would be ostracized by his peers, guilt-ridden due to his crimes against his fellow Jedi, and perhaps even corrupted by the Dark. Syd might see him as almost a son, well, so did Nimdok.

We two have become his godparents, he mused darkly. Safeguards and guides of his spiritual journey. But if the parents aren’t on the same page, and a rift forms between them… let’s just say this may turn into a very messy custody battle.

All of this and more was on his mind now, and had been ever since Syd had sent out the message asking him to come to this ship and be with Starlin. Walking down the hall outside the medical ward, Nimdok glanced around briefly to make sure no one was watching or listening, put his hands in his pockets, then spoke.

“Trying to lay blame for what happened is a pointless exercise. We all share some portion of the fault. Even Starlin. He should have given up the artifacts once he realized he was far outmatched, at the very least.” Pausing, he took a deep breath before adding, “Although I admittedly struggle to understand how it all came to this in the first place.”

He stopped walking and turned to face her head on. “I spoke to Starlin before the battle. I know why he chose to be there. It was because he trusted you more than he trusted the Jedi. Among the Silvers, he had few friends. He attended their classes, but built up no relationships among his classmates. All of his loyalties lay with you.” He shook his head. “I’m not laying the responsibility for his inability to make friends on you—that’s all on him. He can be a bit obnoxious at times, but then he is a teenager. No, what I’m really asking, Syd, is why did you throw your weight behind this doomed alliance—an alliance which, according to recent reports, never actually existed?”

 

[Darth Themis]

Alyosha Drutin would find a slightly larger number of the students he, Laertia, and Themis had tracked down than usual waiting for The Bright Lord's personal apprentice. They kept their faces hidden by Oni or Tengu Masks. There were maybe a few genuine Light Sith, and many others had made their way here surreptitiously, hand picked by the visions of Themis. They numbered in the few dozen, but Themis was patient. She knew more would come.

"Welcome, Cobra." the Apprentices greeted Alyosha respectfully by his rank (Basically Shadow Hand in other organizations). "Lady Themis is expecting you...she's been unusually...silent...as of late...Seeing the footage of the Black Knight and that floating Sorceress did something..."

Alyosha was then left to make his way to Themis's simple looking if large personal quarters, a large bed on a solid black metal framework in one corner, a fridge in another, and a tree carved from a solid chunk of stone.

Themis was found with her head drooped at a simplistic black dining table, she had ceased crying but her new face was still wet from tears. Her flesh resembled black serpent scales and her eyes were a strange gold color, hair replaced by the hood of a cobra, wearing a dark green armorweave gown. She knocked back a shot of Alderaan Vodka, slid a shot glass to Alyosha.

"You know the worst part about my abilities?" She asked quietly. "My body metabolizes Alcohol too fast. I can't get drunk normally. Not unless I down the whole damn bottle, and even then, that buys me maybe two minutes of brain fog...then its like I never drank at all..."

She hated looking this vulnerable normally. But Alyosha was pretty much her only friend besides Julia.

"I've failed...I failed her. Failed her completely..." Themis confessed, downing a shot. Nothing. Not even a 'small' buzz.

"You remember when I told you my emotional connection to Julia makes it difficult for me to read her future? Well...there was a whole lot of things I couldn't see...things specifically concerning her..."

She looked up.

"Darth Phyre is alive. The monster that murdered my family and Julia's parents has been reborn in this era somehow...and she has become Julia's lover..."

Just saying it made her stomach nauseated. It made her want to wretch.

"Phyre was among the Jedi...I have no idea how the feth that happened...I don't even know if Phyre realizes who Laertia is...I couldn't see her. I couldn't see her because she was so connected to Julia. I failed her parents. I completely failed her parents."

Themis started hyperventilating. She tried to stop, but couldn't. It was an anxiety attack...it took her a full minute to get it under control after pacing about. She'd been having them on and off the past week or so since seeing that face again.

"I'm trapped..." she said. "If I do nothing, Phyre wins. If I try to kill her, and Julia finds out why...Drutin...it'll destroy her..."

Meanwhile...

Syd listened as Nimdok explained how utterly Starlin trusted her, which sent another lance of guilt through her heart. She didn't know he hadn't made friends. But what about Tom Kovack ? Were they not friends?

But when he asked about why she had joined the doomed effort, Syd took a moment to blink back the lingering pain of Starlin's hand getting severed and then explained herself.

"It seemed plenty real to me and Laertia, given how much Starchaser was ringing his hands over it with the rest of his buddies." Syd answered Jacen Nimdok . "As for why...I got a taste of the Bryn'adul at Nar Kreeta. Their savagery could give the darkest Sith a run for their money. I...have killed plenty, so I would know..." she covered quickly.

"We watched Nar Kreeta die. The Bryn'adul nearly killed him there. I watched good soldiers and great Jedi die from the worm. They are a malignance that I do not believe can be beaten cleanly. That is why I went. We need as many governments as possible to fight. We fight each other, the Bryn'adul win in the long run. I am not blind to how undesirable the Alliance was and is. But after what I saw at Nar Kreeta...I felt all that death and despair...if I can stop the Bryn'adul...I can maybe save more lives than I have ever taken in my whole existence...I can freeze in hell without regret if I stop their ability to threaten the whole galaxy..." Syd answered.

"But I should have prepared him more...but there is so much we still have to cover...there wasn't enough time. He's talented, but he can be incredibly reckless...I learned he was going to Nar Kreeta without telling me, just barely caught up to him..." Syd admitted, a tear sliding down her face.

She turned to him. "I was surrounded and injured. I couldn't have reached him in time. Please know that. I did as much as I could to draw the aggression of every enemy to myself..."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Alyosha had steeled himself for what was sure to be a very worried, upset Themis, but he was startled by the vulnerable state he found her in… and by her distinctly inhuman appearance. Was this what she looked like “naturally”, or was it a physical manifestation of her emotional turmoil? He managed to hide his reaction behind a stoic mask, and stood before her with his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier reporting for duty.

To him, the primary issue in this situation was ignorance. Themis, who was normally able to see the futures of the people around her, was blind when it came to Laertia. Laertia didn’t know that her lover was really Darth Phyre. And it was possible that Phyre didn’t know who Laertia really was, either. The problems of all parties stemmed from a lack of knowledge—so the obvious solution would be to seek enlightenment.

“If Phyre doesn’t know who Laertia is, I’d suggest exploiting that,” he said, glancing briefly at the shot of vodka she offered. While Themis’ metabolism might make her immune to its effects, Alyosha was still vulnerable to alcohol. Not that he was adverse to indulging, but for the time being, he wanted to keep a clear mind. “On the other hand, it would have to be quite a coincidence for them to wind up together without knowing their history.” Granted, with the Force nothing was a coincidence, but he wasn’t discounting his initial guess that this was all part of Phyre’s plans to use Laertia for her own purposes. “To me it sounds like Phyre does know and is just using Laertia. Either way, Laertia needs to be told what's going on.”

Even if it did, in Themis’ words, “destroy” her. In fact, Alyosha disagreed on that point. Laertia was strong—not invulnerable, but stronger than Themis seemed to give her credit for. She would survive this even if it came down to the worst possible scenario. It would be difficult, but she had plenty of fight left in her.

“You can’t let this thing between her and Phyre go on. It’s based on lies. If Phyre is using her, we owe it to Laertia to tell her that. And if she isn’t using her, and this is all just a crazy coincidence, she still needs to know. I’d consider letting her live a lie more cruel than telling her the truth.”

An idea struck him, though it seemed pretty unlikely. “Do you think it’s possible to get Phyre herself to tell Laertia about her past? Kind of like a ‘if you love me, you’ll accept what I used to be’ sort of deal, maybe?”

~~~​

Nimdok frowned at Syd’s answer to his question, even though it was more of what he had come to expect from her.

Granted, part of him still feared her motives were more sinister. Just looking at what she and Laertia had been up to recently, they had antagonized their fellow Jedi at two separate conferences, making threats and endless speeches about the horrors of the Bryn’adul’s genocides until they were asked to leave. Laertia had even gone so far as to spit on Auteme, a well-known and respected Jedi who by all accounts should have been sympathetic to their cause. On Dantooine, the reports stated that they had been accompanied by a woman (a Shi’ido like himself, he shuddered to think) who had used them to launch a surprise attack with her own forces and massacred countless Jedi in a gruesome, horrific manner, taking sadistic glee in the carnage. Talk about bad optics.

“Yet the first battle you participated in as part of this alliance didn’t involve the Bryn’adul,” he pointed out. “You were fighting alongside the Sith against your fellow Jedi. Even if the Sith made helping them defend Dantooine a requirement in the deal, it was quite a bit to ask for. Enough that I’m tempted to accuse the Sith of trickery.” Not that the alliance had made much sense in the first place.

"But I should have prepared him more... but there is so much we still have to cover... there wasn't enough time. He's talented, but he can be incredibly reckless... I learned he was going to Nar Kreeta without telling me, just barely caught up to him... I was surrounded and injured. I couldn't have reached him in time. Please know that. I did as much as I could to draw the aggression of every enemy to myself..."

“I am aware of Starlin’s… foolishness,” he murmured. “Unfortunately, that seems to be a trait he learned from me. But he’s young and inexperienced and can’t pull it off as well. As I said, I don’t blame you for his injuries. He shouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Starlin would no doubt beg to differ, were he here to listen to their conversation.

On the other hand, he would've also been alarmed to hear Nimdok's follow up. The professor took a deep breath, preparing to reveal to Syd some of Starlin's secret thoughts and beliefs... none of which he had actually confided in Nimdok. In fact, he had confessed his fears only to Tom Kovack, his fellow Padawan and friend. But then, Starlin didn't know the truth about Tom any more than Laertia knew the truth about Syd, or else he would've kept all of this within himself...

“He’s chosen to make the Bryn his primary enemy because they are easy to demonize. To him they are mere monsters, a parasite even, existing only to infest and kill other worlds. He doesn’t have to stop and think about whether or not they could be saved or redeemed, or even about how many widows and orphans he will create by slaying them by the dozens.” Nimdok shook his head and sighed. “With the Sith, things are less clearly defined. Starlin fears having to face moral complexity and ambiguity. But what happened on Dantooine was precisely that—his clearly delineated black-and-white way of looking at the galaxy was thrown out the window.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he averted his eyes, staring down at the floor. It was a moment before he could say the rest out loud. “I'm afraid his innocence was the true casualty of that battle. His hand can at least be replaced. But where he goes from here, now that his entire world has been shattered, I don’t know.” Raising his chin, he added, "I don't blame you for that loss, either. It was bound to happen eventually. But you must understand what you will be dealing with, should you continue to lead him down this path. A disillusioned, cynical, broken young man. The boy you knew will warp and change into someone unrecognizable."

Nimdok was willing to grant Starlin the opportunity to choose for himself what he wanted to do now. What he was really trying to do was influence Syd, convincing her that giving up her apprentice was necessary in order to do "the right thing". If she refused to continue training him, Starlin's decision wouldn't matter—and that was precisely what Nimdok was counting on.

Syd Celsius

 

[Laertia Io]

Laertia worked quietly on Starlin's hand in her quarters.

She had been up all night to, wrestling with her actions at Dantooine, actions that had nearly gotten Starlin Rand killed by another Jedi. The Amalgam had used her to buy time for a brutal, vicious ambush.

The first battle in favor of the compact hadn't been to fight Bryn'adul, it had to be fought against those who didn't see the stupidity of a two front war in which they would be the defenders. Laertia was pretty much in a Catch 22: No matter which side she fought on, the Jedi and NIO would force a two front war, determined to negate any advantage of having an Alliance, all in a selfish gambit to try and outlast the Bryn'adul while planets burned.

She needed a distraction. A fifth column.

That was where Themis came in. Nine Lives as well.

Laertia was under no Illusions that she would essentially be asking her mother to lethally harrass The Jedi Order and the NIO. They wanted to force her to fight on two different fronts? She'd force them to fight on three.

Laertia dreaded going to war with The Jedi, it served no one, but what was she supposed to do, fold and be a good little Jedi assisting them in pointless operations that got people killed? If she just stood back and agreed with Ryv she might as well just tacitly say what she saw at Nar Kreeta didn't matter and that they could still fight both without consequence.

Laertia couldn't do what Ryv was doing. Not in good conscience. It was irresponsible.

Syd had been inconsolable after Starlin's injuries. Laertia had felt a deep pang of remorse at where her decision had led him by proxy.

She put the finishing touches on the covering of the skeletal structure. She stared at her own cybernetic limb, which went up to her shoulder.

If he only knew the similarities between them now. It was more than just the arm.

Troublingly, Starlin's trust in Syd almost resembled the trust Laertia had for Ursula...she could feel the arguments Jacen Nimdok was making through her link with Syd. It was worse, because Laertia knew Syd thought of Starlin as the closest she had to a son...

Laertia put the finishing touches on the hand and then called the Android Moya Virtu over. She resembled a middle aged version of Darth Themis in a black armorweave gown. Moya was effectively Laertia's Mother...the only real source of parental affection she received over the years. Laertia had explained she would have to fight Jedi at Dantooine but it seemed the programming Themis had given her had been very specific: Laertia really WOULD have to do something completely outright evil in order to break the programming.

Laertia had no intention of doing such. She loved Moya.

"Sweetie? Is it finished?" The Biot asked.

"I believe so..." the tombstone skinned Jedi answered, having thrice inspected it for errors and defects. She had made his hand like she would make her own.

Moya's hands on her shoulders caused Laertia to untense. Might have been the military grade pheremones in Moya's body that worked on skin contact, but even if it wasn't, Laertia still would have felt relief.

"Mother..." Laertia asked without looking at her. "Did I destroy Starlin's life? Dragging him and Syd into this?"

"People make choices. He was at Nar Kreeta, right? I saw the afterimages. The Jedi aren't wrong to distrust the Sith, but if they don't want to see the writings on the wall (It all depends on your perspective: 90 XP), that's on them. You don't need to be a Jedi to know right from wrong. As much as the Code has helped the Jedi, it has equally proven their ruin many times. What happened at Korriban is just one example of this. While its sad that Jedi died at your hands, its one of the ugly realities of this life. Sometimes, fighting for what you believe in means good people might die if they think you are wrong. The Jedi apply that logic to everyone else, yet get so unnerved when that same sentiment is returned upon them. You did what you had to. Even I can see how deadly The Bryn'adul are."

Laertia paused as her pet rabbit Pyronium hopped into her lap. She hugged her beloved bunny, the fur soft and thick as it snuggled against her.

"Will you do the surgery?" She asked Moya, petting her furry ball of normal. "I'd do it but my nerves are shot...hands aren't steady..."

"Of course. But Laertia...you need to rest. In fact, as your medical caretaker, I insist."

(Cutaway of The Terminator minigunning the Cyberdyne Parking Lot)

Laertia knew better than to argue. Moya would use sad puppy eyes if she didn't.

Laertia was escorted to bed with her bunny, the black and green De Lifte crystal set in a ring around her finger to suppress her headaches. Grand Mother's crystal had been a godsend. It had given her system time it needed to recover from the medications she normally had to take to suppress the migraines.

Laertia lay down on the matress after taking off her boots. Pyronium snuggled against her side as she looked up at Moya.

"You're worried. I can see it."

"Of course I am. You're mine..." Moya replied, her fingers running through Laertia's raven hair. Pyronium was asleep.

"You can still save yourself from whatever is coming. Denounce me. They'll buy it."

"I'd rather go into a woodchipper."

Laertia closed her eyes as Moya kissed her forehead. Laertia began to fall asleep.

Moya then changed out of her dress and into medical fatigues, then took the hand in a special case to the med bay. The strange light siders who didn't identify themselves awaited with gloves and masks, next to the medical droids. Starlin had been given high quality painkillers. He wouldn't feel a thing until near the end, when they had to test the nerve connections. His mother was nearby.

"Hello, Starlin, my name is Moya, I'll be your doctor today..." The Android said to Starlin Rand .

She and the medical droids made space as she took out his new hand.

"Okay, about your new prosthetic. Its designer uses a sixty-forty mix of of Cortosis to Durasteel. So, no need to worry about it breaking while fighting. Grip strength is 007 times higher than normal, and to make certain you are never unarmed..."

Moya demonstrated the features through wires connected from its special rest to the machines inside the hand. Three retractable claws made of the same Cortosis weave durasteel mix slid out from between the knuckles from hidden seams.

"There are room for upgrades, of course. Do you have any questions, either of you?" Moya asked Starlin and Jen.

Meanwhile...

"The NIO forced that battle. Ryv Karis refuses to see the obvious. Did we want that to be our first battle for the compact? Hell no. But we weren't going to take his side. His side wants to fight two dangerous foes at once, with strained resources. We need as many as possible for just one, because they can kill the best of us, on both sides. If we hadn't opposed him, and shown other Jedi that they don't have to take his side, it would've been tantamount to saying he was right. He is not. As sad and awful as it is that Jedi died at our hands, they only died there because they let their need to destroy the Sith cloud their judgment. They should have known how ruthless the enemy would behave to keep Dantooine. We didn't know what that freak that ambushed them was planning. That's no excuse, but they walked right into that trap of their own free will, just like they threw lives away at Korriban. And to help Imperials at that. At least we know what's coming with the Sith. They wanna pretend helping those who are not a democracy just because they shot people they hate isn't a set up for the mother of all backstabs. To be united by hatred is a fragile thing, at best...but we at least admit how fragile the unity on our end of it is." Syd said to Nimdok, defending her decision and reasoning.

"The sad part? The NIO is forcing a two front war anyway. Millions of people are going to die because we cannot stop fighting each other. If you think the irony isn't lost upon me, merely switching sides in a two front war, you are incorrect. But at least I am on the side willing to do 'anything' to stop the Bryn'adul. The NJO, G.A., and NIO think they can kill their rivals like its business as usual. Its not. Its gonna take a lot of decisions that will keep us awake at night. I think you are also wrong about Starlin. He's stronger than he seems. He gave up Death Sticks. When I saw his hand had been cut off, I...I was ready to kill the one who took his hand. He stopped me. As much pain as he was in, as humiliated and frightened as he obviously was, 'he' convinced 'me' to stand down, because he remembered what I taught him. He's a strong boy, he's a good boy, reckless as he is, and I think he can become a great practitioner of the Light, even if he's not a Jedi at the end. But to me, for what he did for both of us that day, stopping me from...from embracing the darkness...he has more Jedi in his pinky finger than I do in one of my arms." Syd said. "He passed his trial of flesh, and courage that day. He was the Jedi when I wasn't. When I didn't 'want' to be because I saw his arm on the ground."

Syd leaned against the wall.

"I understand your concern. But I'm not ready to write him off as a lost cause yet just because his training comes from me. Better me than one of those Jedi 'Masters' who are slain so easily in a fight, you wonder why they were given a Lightsaber to start with. Better his master be someone who truly understands the horrific consequences of misusing The Force than a Master who knows only what their texts say. If Starlin wants to leave, that's his choice. But I think he's better off learning from me. Because I want to make sure he survives the world he has entered. The world you and I introduced him to."

 

[Starlin Rand]

Lying on the hospital bed, Starlin lingered in his mother’s embrace, savoring the feeling of comfort and safety she offered with her presence. But even with the painkillers fogging his mind, he was restless. He still hadn’t had a chance to fully process what had happened on Dantooine.

Nar Kreeta had been a jolt of cold harsh reality, hammering home the horrors of war and destroying all his illusions about what it meant to be a knight marching into battle. He learned that there was nothing glorious or glamorous about it. Dantooine, on the other hand, was far more nightmarish. The sight of Thurion Heavenshield and Darth Carnifex, the living embodiment of the duality of the Force, fighting side-by-side on the battlefield was like something out of a dream. Yet it had been real, and his memory was proof of just how blurred the lines could become.

The sound of a new voice in the room addressing him by name roused him from his torpor. He looked up and into the face of an attractive middle-aged woman. She introduced herself as Moya, and said she was his doctor. As he watched, his senses dulled by the painkillers, she pulled out a prosthetic hand and showed it to him. It would be his new hand…

His mother’s eyebrows rose as Moya demonstrated the hidden retractable blades. “Is that really necessary?”

“It’s okay,” Starlin mumbled, patting her arm with his left hand. “I like it. I can be like the Wolverine. That’s pretty cool. Maybe losing my hand isn’t so bad after all.” He looked at Moya. “No questions. Just put it on me. My right hand was my favorite hand, you know. I miss it. I need it for… stuff.” He gave her a shit-eating grin.

Jen sighed. He was clearly high as a kite and barely knew what he was saying. As the medical droids held his arm steady and the hand was fitted to the prepped stump, Starlin sang quietly under his breath.

“Mother, mother, there's too many of you crying. Brother, brother, brother, there's far too many of you dying. You know we've got to find a way, to bring some lovin' here today…” He trailed off, afraid to sing the next few lines, which proclaimed “war is not the answer, for only love can conquer hate”. Oh, Force. He wished it wasn’t all so confusing and conflicting. He wished there was one side that was clearly good, and the other clearly evil. Not a single shade of gray. No one standing on a lonely island, alone in their convictions…

But… but he wanted… to be a hero. If nothing bad ever happened, why, there’d be no need for heroes…

~~~​

“It’s less Ryv Karis not seeing the obvious and more him willfully denying the reality of the situation,” Nimdok replied. “Or rather, he is fully aware of his actions and their consequences, but is simply a warmonger who would rather continue to fight than make peace with one side, however temporarily, to fight a common enemy.”

Nimdok had no love of Ryv, and he agreed with much of what Syd was saying. But he recognized the history which drove the Sword of the Jedi and his followers. The fear, the anger, the hatred, it all had its roots in decades of oppression and evil, and before that centuries of religious feuding between the Jedi and the Sith in all their incarnations. It simply wasn’t realistic or fair to expect them to ally with the Sith. Besides, it wasn’t all Ryv’s fault—he was just one man. Yet his followers and supporters were numerous, with many of them equally or even more driven by a deep-seated (and well-deserved in many cases) hatred of everything Sith.

“Billions,” he said softly. “Not millions of people. Billions. Maybe even trillions. Evacuations will curb the death count, but the toll will be massive before the end.” He thought of his friend Inanna Hoole, newly married and settled in the Unknown Regions, and the children she and her husband intended to adopt. A three year old Keshiri boy and an infant Sakiyan girl who had been orphaned by the Bryn’s annihilation of their homeworlds. Two out of hundreds of millions of children. Death and destruction on a scale not seen since the days of the Gulag Plague.

“I think you are also wrong about Starlin. He's stronger than he seems…”

Nimdok hadn’t known about the death sticks, but given Starlin’s Balosar heritage and rough upbringing, it didn’t surprise him. He hadn’t known that Starlin stopped Syd from killing Cotan Sar’andor, either—that did come as something of a shock. Not only because Starlin had found the strength to do it, but because Syd was admitting to such a thing. Nimdok felt his heart beginning to harden again at this reminder of her Dark past and destructive origins.

“Then let me be clear,” he began. “It is Starlin’s decision, you’re right. But he is inexperienced and ignorant of many things. In particular, he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does.”

The professor knew he was treading on thin ice the moment he so much as implied his knowledge of her true identity. He spoke quickly, getting it all out in the open.

“Whatever you’re hiding from him, Syd, you must tell him the truth. His apprenticeship will depend on you being honest with him now more than ever. If you refuse, then I will tell him what I know about you—and I think you realize what that would mean to him. He trusts you more than he trusts me.”

Laertia Io

 

[Syd Celsius]

At Jacen Nimdok all but confirming he knew more than he let on, the temperature of the air around them raised by half a degree, Syd's jaw tightening, muscles working under it.

She took a half step forward.

"First, you send him to me, and now you get cold feet?" Syd asked quietly. "If you knew as much as you think...why send him to me to begin with?"

Her hands clenched, her orange eyes brightened.

"When I am ready to tell him..." Syd said firmly but quietly. "I will tell him. But not a moment before I am ready. Starlin's sanity matters as much to me as it does to you. But if you wanted him trained by one of those Lobotomy Cases at The Silver Rest than you should have never even looked my way." Syd replied, face expressionless but her tone iron.

"I fethed up. I own that. It will haunt me forever, seeing his hand on the ground. But you fethed up way worse if you really know so much about me. Your fingers are in the mousetrap, and you're trying to figure out how to pry it loose without hurting your hand any more than you already did. Why the feth you thought you could ask him to take artifacts in an active war zone is beyond me. I did what I did at Dantooine because I believe Laertia is right. And before all this horror with The Bryn'adul hit I'll have you know I was doing my absolute best to guide him. I let him take risks, make mistakes. I tried to demonstrate the danger of acquiring too much power, and taking too many risks to gain knowledge not meant for people to truly harness. He destroyed the Death Sticks himself!"

When Starlin Rand had done that, that was truly the moment Syd knew she had found a worthy student. It takes a great strength of will to give up a bad habit like that on the spot.

But with Nimdok's words, that moment also drove home just how much Starlin had decided to trust her. This incident also demonstrated just how much he trusted Nimdok.

"He trusts us both the same...don't you see? He trusts you enough to take a risk and he trusts me enough to take a risk. I will honor that trust as best as I am able." Syd said.

Meanwhile...

Moya surveyed the nerve connections after the attachment occurred. It seemed to be taking. He'd have full control in a few minutes. The nerve attachments had been some high quality work.

"You should get more rest, Starlin..." Moya spoke, handing him a rubber ball.

"Here. Use this to test your prosthetic after you're done resting..." Moya explained. "Any upgrades you make on it from here on out is your decision. Laertia made sure of it...there are guest quarters, if you need to rest somewhere more quiet and to talk with your family..."

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Syd Celsius

The sudden heat didn’t bother the jungle-born Shi’ido in the slightest, but the obvious anger in Syd’s body language and voice set off warning sirens. His species was hard-wired to hide from danger, blending in with their surroundings to survive. Nimdok had to suppress this urge, clamping down on his chameleon instincts.

He let her talk, listening without interrupting. Glancing down at his toes, clad in black boots, he finally returned her fiery gaze with a raised eyebrow. “No need to warm me up to the idea. I haven’t gotten cold feet. Rather, I see this as a major turning point in the progress of Starlin’s training.”

There was mildness and humor in his tone, as though he found the Flame Geist’s flaring fury amusing. It helped to mask the genuine fear he felt in her presence. What it failed to conceal was the mischievous glint in his eyes when his met hers. Dangerous women were one of his weaknesses. Fortunately for them both, Syd was preoccupied with Laertia and Nimdok with Elise Ike —there was no risk of this disagreement turning into an actual custody battle, thank the Force.

"I sent Starlin to you because I believed that Darth Phyre was dead,” Nimdok replied. His voice was soft, almost gentle. “You are all that’s left of her, yet you’re a very different sort of creature. Hardly recognizable, aside from the fire-based powers, and perhaps some aesthetic similarities...” He shrugged. “Starlin was full of untapped potential, possibly descended from a powerful bloodline, but he was also a troublemaker and promised to be a difficult case. You were a dynamic warrior, able to draw on deep wells of experience in the ways of the Force, and eager to prove yourself worthy of the Jedi title. He needed a master. You needed an apprentice. I couldn’t let an opportunity like that slip through my fingers. The question now is, was I right about you?

“As for the mousetrap…” He waggled the fingers of his right hand, a grimace crossing his features. “I’d say you’re quite right about that. I’ve gotten by all these years by being a slimy bastard, able to slip through the traps right as they close in on me. But this one managed to catch me off guard… only it was Starlin who was caught instead of me.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, the grimace threatened to become open anguish scrawled across his face like the crumpled paper of an abandoned, unsent note. Nimdok just barely managed to maintain control.

“Trust me when I say that your secret will hurt him far less than you think it will. But…” He held up his hands in surrender. “Tell him when you feel like it. Just don’t wait too long. Stale secrets are the hardest to swallow.”

~~~​

Starlin toyed with the rubber ball, squeezing it lightly in his hands. He was tired, but before he went to sleep…

“Mom?”

Jen looked up. She had pulled a chair over to sit at his bedside. “What do you need, baby?”

“Do you know where Tom is?”

Tom Kovack. The older boy he was friends with, the one with the rickety old explorer ship. She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him here. I can check your datapad and see if he tried to call or message you.”

While she rustled around in his bag, Starlin spun the ball in his palm, lost in thought. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s really my friend,” he said suddenly.

“I’m sure he is. He just may not know what’s happened.”

“Yeah, but… why would anyone want to be friends with me? The idiot who sided with the Sith, and then got his hand cut off trying to smuggle artifacts?” He squeezed the ball harder. “When he finds out, he’s going to think I’m a moron. Maybe… maybe he won’t want anything to do with me anymore. He’s the only friend I have left.”

He stared up at the ceiling, too drugged to express any emotion. Jen swallowed. She had found her son’s datapad; it now rested on her lap. There were no missed calls or unread messages from Tom Kovack. “Would you like for me to send him a message?” she asked softly.

“No,” Starlin said. “I’ll tell him later.” He closed his eyes and fell asleep, succumbing to his body’s need for rest.

 

[Syd Celsius]

Syd was stricken as Jacen Nimdok used her Sith name. The pain and agony that crossed her face as he said it made her withdraw from him entirely. She hated that name. Despised it. Loathed it. Dreaded it. It wasn't her.

She hated Phyre.

"When I am ready..." was all she said as she withdrew from him, struggling not to have a panic attack. She couldn't even LOOK at him. Couldn't bear to look at someone who 'knew' looking right at her. Nimdok had accidentally made one of her worst nightmares come true.

Her second worst was Laertia finding out. But not for the reasons she would be inclined to think.

Syd walked away from Nimdok, going to spare quarters. She locked the door once she was in and collapsed to the floor, crying her eyes out at what had happened. It was all upside down now and she didn't know how to make it right.

She tried to walk it through in her head, tried to sound it out. When Laertia had told them they were mad to reject The Concord, Syd had felt the conviction in Laertia's very bones. And the logic was sound.

Put to pay such a price for one's conviction...

Because she had believed what Laertia said, her reputation, both their reputations were now tarnished. And Starlin Rand was learning to grip again.

She felt horrible. She tried to focus, tried to get ahold of her emotions, tried to meditate. Becoming fully organic brought emotional pains she wasn't used to experiencing. Not at this level, anyway.

She felt Laertia awaken at her suffering. Syd felt even worse. She knew Laertia's damaged brain needed rest and being linked to Syd's brain wasn't helping.

But Laertia had noticed it. Felt it too much, too greatly to try and go back to sleep. They hadn't really spoken since Dantooine, each struggling with the trauma of what they had done.

Laertia mentally asked if she wanted to talk. Syd replied back 'no'. All Syd wanted was time to process her grief over what had happened to Starlin, and what her own conviction had cost him...

Meanwhile...

Laertia sighed as she lay in bed, Pyronium asleep and curled against her. She had used the rabbits in her magic acts. But since going back full time, they had become just pets again. They would likely remain pets forever now. She had turned her back on it all. It had been too easy. She could feel the wounds in the Force the Bryn'adul caused, the millions she had witnessed slaughtered. Innocent people, slain for the crime of not being like their slayer. They had to be stopped, even if it meant holding hands with the dregs of the Galaxy. Even if it meant her personal disgrace.

She couldn't sleep with Syd feeling that way. And Syd didn't want to talk...

Laertia rose up, her rabbit still asleep. She thew on her obsidian Kimono, a gift from her Ancestor, Nine. She let her rabbit sleep, missing the days when she would pull it out of a hat for the amusement of children.

A tear slid down her eye. She had come out of retirement to fulfill the last wish of her Master "Ursula' to find some alchemized object called The Shrodinger Box. The Amalgam had stolen all the pieces after she had successfully retrieved them from her. She had tricked her out of a semi peaceful retirement.

The Amalgam had given her back her edge. She had been getting sloppy, in retirement. The Assassins had gotten closer to killing her in retirement than they had when she was fully active.

The Eternal Curse of achieving the kind of capability she had achieved.

She wiped the tear from her eyes as she stared at her sleeping bunny. She could handle the Sith. She knew they would always be around. The Bryn'adul would murder everything if the most ruthless measures were not taken. She could lose her family because the Jedi couldn't stop fighting their rivals.

Laertia had lost so much...she refused to risk her family's future for the Order's holier than thou attitude.

Laertia's will hardened as she thought of her loved ones and the dead at Nar Kreeta, and Yurb who haunted her sleep. Of all the planets already lost to their savagery.

Laertia would never care about the Order more than she cared for her loved ones and the fate of the Galaxy.

With a distinct chill, she finally understood what had made it so easy for Anakin to turn on the Order. Or maybe she had always understood, but had lacked the psychological willingness until now to acknowledge any more similarities to that man other than those that even on an academic level she couldn't help but notice.

Was her love for her family and her need to protect just an excuse to have satisfaction against the Bryn'adul? Laertia didn't think it was. She didn't want to fight Jedi but they never left you plenty of options once they had their mind on something. In a strange way, violence seemed to be the only thing that really got through to them. They might deny it, but on 'that' count, at least, they were just like Sith.

Laertia didn't even know what she was, anymore...

Laertia left her quarters, headed toward the medbay. The Light Sith that wandered the ship, their true natures undetectable unless they engaged in combat, passed by her with a nod. Laertia hesitantly nodded back, not sure if she was one of them or not.

The Black Knight didn't look at all fearsome as she hesitantly trotted past Starlin's quarters. She thought of going in to see how he was doing but stopped, realizing she would probably be the absolute last person his mother wanted to see, given it was she who had convinced Syd, who had, in turn, convinced Starlin.

She didn't spot Nimdok as she headed inside to treat the wounded Jedi that Knights Obsidian had captured at Dantooine...

As she did, she went stiff to a fast approaching presence in the Force, one of the Light Sith walked up to her, though he wasn't the fast approaching presence that concerned her.

"Lady Io, Lady De Lifte requests to dock with her assistant, Alyosha..."

"Feth my life...now Grandma wants to chat. Of all the days she comes to chat its with civilians aboard...ahh, hell, let her dock..."

Meanwhile...

The Absolutions interior was simplistic and Castle like. Should Nimdok or Jen happen to be exploring, they'd notice many things. The unidentified Light Adepts wandering the halls in black robes and sunglasses, The Armory, were it visited, would not only contain Laertia and Syd's equipment (Minus the Sword of Surtr as it had not yet been acquired) but a partly disassembled YVH-1 Battle Droid on a table receiving the precursor upgrades to something Laertia was developing. Something terrible...

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Nimdok watched Syd go, a vanishing figure in a dress of mourning black. He was afraid her reaction would be much worse. Instead she had simply left, going off to be alone and think everything over. At least, he hoped she would—ignoring all this wouldn’t get her anywhere.

He remained standing in the same spot for a minute longer, then started back the way he had come. When he reached the door to Starlin’s room, he peeked inside and saw that the Padawan was fast asleep. A new hand had been fitted to his wrist. Jen wasn’t far away, sitting vigil in her chair. Nimdok’s gaze briefly flicked over to where Starlin’s bag rested on another chair against the wall, before he turned away from the window entirely.

Jen sensed his presence on the other side of the door and looked up just in time to see him walk past. Glancing at Starlin’s sleeping form, she quietly gathered her things, stood up, and left the room.

Ahead of her, Nimdok took a left at the end of the corridor. She followed at a distance, keeping her hands in her pockets as she passed a pair of the black-robed, sunglasses-wearing crew of the vessel. At least, she assumed they were the crew—they certainly did dress strangely.

Nimdok had entered a doorway leading to the ship’s armory. As soon as Jen took her first tentative step into the room, she was hit by the overwhelming sense of… energy concentrated there. The enchantments and alchemical treatments the weapons and armor stored there projected like a strong perfume. She could even tell, vaguely, that two different people had made each item. The “scent” of each was different depending on the maker.

She spotted Nimdok standing in front of a display case. His back was to her as she approached; he seemed absorbed in looking at a lightsaber with a curved hilt. Jen was more disturbed by the dismembered parts of the droid on the table nearby.

“How is Starlin?” Nimdok asked.

“He’s resting,” she replied.

“Good.” Nimdok crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ll be staying here with him until he’s ready to go, right?”

“Of course. Why are you asking? Do you need to leave?”

He nodded. “My little girl needs me. I can stay a little while longer, maybe another hour or two…” As he trailed off, his brow furrowed.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Just got a weird feeling.” He shrugged. “It’s a long journey.”

“Where are you going?”

“Erakhis.” Nimdok finally faced Jen. “A planet in the Unknown Regions.”

“That is pretty far.”

He smiled faintly. “Miri is staying with some good friends of mine. They live in a nice house and have three kids for her to play with. I’m sure she’s doing fine.”

Something told Jen that he was lying, or at least distorting the truth. Not about his kid being fine—he seemed fairly certain of that. It was the location and circumstances that sounded off. But Jen let it slide. It wasn’t any of her business.

Clearing her throat, she instead asked, “Have you ever met Tom Kovack?”

“He’s a friend of Starlin’s, isn’t he? Another Silver Jedi Padawan? I think I’ve met him once or twice. Most of what I know comes from what Starlin has told me about him.”

She hesitated. Once again, she had a nagging feeling that he wasn’t telling the truth. “This may seem like a strange question, but… when you met him, did you get a good impression from him? Do you know—do you think he’s a good influence on Starlin?”

“He seemed like a pretty good guy. He’s older than Starlin by a few years, very mature, clean-cut…” Nimdok shrugged. “I don’t think he’s a bad influence. What troubles me is that Starlin doesn’t seem to have any other friends besides Tom.”

“His old friends from home have drifted away,” she agreed. “Jacen and Radu… Oh, hell. Those boys were gangbangers. He doesn’t need them anyway.”

“But you understand what I mean,” Nimdok said softly.

Jen ran a hand through her dyed hair. “Yes… yes, I understand. But I don’t know what to do about it. Starlin’s almost eighteen. I can’t arrange playdates for him. He has to want to find new friends, and go and seek them out on his own…”

“Exactly, Jen.”

She blinked, letting his words sink in. “He doesn’t want new friends?”

Nimdok pursed his lips. “Tom Kovack is someone Starlin wants to be friends with. Wants to be like him, even. He’s idealized Tom, erasing all his flaws, seeing only the good. It’s similar to when you first fall in love with someone—”

“Starlin is in love with Tom?”

“Oh no.” Nimdok chuckled. “At least, I don’t think so. No, he can’t be. Starlin has been hopelessly crushing on the daughter of the former Silver Jedi administrator ever since the two of them went on a secret mission together and he got a whiff of her diluted Zeltron pheromones. Anyway, what I mean is, his friendship with Tom has just begun. He knows him well-enough to have seen all the best things Tom has to offer, but not long enough to have unveiled the bad, the things which he keeps hidden from everyone. Until then, Tom will seem to be all Starlin needs in a friend, and he won’t bother with anyone else.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know Tom Kovack that well,” Jen muttered.

“Sometimes I just know things. I have dreams about people I’ve never met, objects I’ve never seen, places I’ve never been.” Nimdok gestured to the lightsaber. “I saw this in a dream once. It belonged to someone called Darth Phyre.”

“A Sith?” Jen asked, walking over to his side. The lightsaber hilt was pale silver, the handle spotted with a black gradient design and the buttons on the side ringed with pale blue. “What’s it doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He gave her a lopsided smirk, then whispered, “Want to help me steal it?”

“You must be joking.” Jen returned his smirk with a disgusted glare. “You can't steal a Sith lightsaber from Starlin’s master. That would be insane and stupid and nonsensical. You're not that reckless and irresponsible.”

“This ship doesn’t belong to Syd. Doesn’t really belong to Laertia, either.” He paused, eyebrows rising. “I’d like to know who the true owner is. What's her connection to the two of them?”

"How would I know?" Jen snapped.

"Well, you could help me find out." He tilted his head to the side, pointed ears listening. "I think a ship just docked. Let's satisfy our curiosity, shall we?"

Darth Themis

 

[Darth Themis]

Earlier...

Themis only frowned at Alyosha's questions about what they should do, as well as his belief at Laertia's strength.

"If this had still been a few weeks after we took down the Kaiju, I would fully agree with you..." Themis said, now stone cold sober. "But the revelation about me isn't the only revelation she has suffered. She found out her Jedi Master was secretly a member of Darth Phyre's cult as well. My failure is threefold. From what she has told me about this Witch...I can only surmise that it wasn't some random witch from the Cult that got to her...Laertia was intercepted by the Cult's new Matriarch. Recruited her at a young age to be a Jedi Shadow...and twisting her halfway into a Marauder...I knew there was something off in how she fought. Too savage for Jedi...too selective of prey to be a Dark Sith. The revelation nearly destroyed her. She idolized her Master. Closest thing she had to a Mother for a long time. If she finds out the first person she's given her heart out to is also of the Cult...even my visions can't see many good outcomes. And that's the problem. I've been searching these futures for hours and even the ones where she doesn't go insane don't look all that appealing. That is why I am scared she'll go insane. Because there are a metric feth ton of futures where she does upon finding out..."

Themis rose up.

"But she is my Grand Daughter. And I do not know what Phyre's long term plan is. I'll have to decide...and you are so going with me because I need someone to remind me every now and then not to try and rip her apart on sight. And I 'will' want to..."

Themis composed herself, but still looked devastated...

"They intercepted her completely..." Themis said soberly.

Present...

Themis seethed with inner turmoil as she prepared to head to the Absolution with Alyosha Drutin . Her spear was at her side. All of her lightsabers. Disablement wards. Force Nullification Scrolls. Poison with trace elements of Nullification Resin.

Themis was half set on killing her. But something kept holding her back from committing to "The Bit" so to speak.

How could she tell Laertia? She had to get am idea of what she was up against.

As she approached the shuttle, Her Force Vision showed her Jacen Nimdok and Jen Rand having discovered the Lightsaber in Laertia's armory. The one she and Laertia had recovered immediately after their jaunt to Atrisia.

Themis almost chit a brick. Laertia had just left it out? Lying around for Nimdok to find. Feth, his nosy nature would feth it all up before she could put a proper lid on it!

Feth feth feth--

Themis calmed down. She was an awesome witch with Force Powers. Surely there was a solution to Nimdok's walking spoiler tendancies.

As her black Lambda shuttle docked, Themis honed the Force.

As soon as she walked aboard, she immediately went and looked for Nimdok and Jen, who were obviously looking for them.

Themis focused the full strength of her Dominate Mind Ability on the both of them.

"You want to put that Lightsaber back and forget you saw it..." Themis said, as she 'really' couldn't afford him asking a question about it.

Her heart was thudding in her ears, the cold ache of past trauma at being so near to her arch enemy creeping up her spine. Where was she?

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

As he followed Themis to the shuttle, Alyosha Drutin mulled over what his master had told him earlier. He hadn’t known about the revelation of Laertia’s master being the leader of an evil cult, but he could certainly see how that information changed not only the situation they were facing, but his opinion of Laertia herself.

What rotten luck she must have had. It seemed as if everyone she’d ever cared about had abandoned her or turned out to be using her. Either fate had delivered the poor woman a spectacularly bad hand, or something else was at work here, pulling the strings, manipulating her future.

Themis had asked him to come out of fear that she would kill this Darth Phyre on the spot. Well, he would honor her request, standing at her side for support.

He noticed Themis seemed a little distracted. The shuttle was waiting to take them on board the Absolution, yet she was hesitating. He initially assumed she was reluctant to go through with this meeting, but after a few moments he felt the surge of power in the Force. She was doing something. Turning away, he boarded the shuttle, trusting her to do what she felt was necessary.

~~~​

“I’d rather not get involved in any of these people’s business,” Jen replied irritably to Nimdok’s question. “They remind me of some of the criminal types I used to work for. Hard, dangerous people living violent lives. Except these ones are all a bunch of wizards in sunglasses and robes. No thanks.”

She turned away from him, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved on to looking at the various suits of armor on display. Nimdok watched her from the corner of his eye until she turned a corner, then started to reach for the lightsaber. His hand had just closed around the weapon when a voice pierced his thoughts.

"You want to put that Lightsaber back and forget you saw it..."

It was not only commanding, but nigh irresistible. Nimdok’s fingers loosened their hold at once, his hands dropping to his sides, leaving the lightsaber where it lay.

But as for forgetting he had seen it, both of the souls who occupied his body were scholars, and neither would part with knowledge so easily. He fought this intrusion the way one fights an attacker, pitting his willpower against the witch’s…

Spoiler: d20 roll result

You rolled a 17.

Straining against Themis’ might, he stumbled over to where Jen was standing. He found her with a glazed, confused look in her eyes, as though she couldn’t remember where she was or how she had gotten here. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her toward him and kissed her on the mouth, praying the shock and horror would jolt them both out of it.

“MmmMMMPPPHHH!” She squirmed her way free and punched him in the face as hard as she could. Nimdok toppled backwards into a nearby display stand. It didn’t fall over, but it didn’t catch him either. He landed awkwardly on his side on the floor, groaning and blinking rapidly in an effort to clear his vision of the stars floating before his eyes.

“You bastard!” Jen screamed. “Fething schutta! Motherfether! What the feth was that?!”

“A hasty solution to an unforeseen problem,” he replied, picking himself up off the floor. Feeling something warm trickle from the corner of his mouth, he touched his fingers to the spot; they came away wet with black blood. At least the pain was helping him focus. “It worked… I think. Do you remember what I told you about that lightsaber over there?”

“What lightsaber? What the feth are you talking about?!” Jen fumed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand as though poison had touched her lips. “You think that you can manhandle me like that? Are you out of your mind? What the feth is wrong with you! Did you forget that I’m a married woman, not to mention old enough to be your mother!”

Given how furious she was, Nimdok decided it was best to just let the whole thing go and get the hell out of there as fast as possible. He raised his hands in surrender and began to back away toward the door. “I know that… look. It’s hard to explain. But trust me when I say that I would never kiss you in a million years unless it was absolutely necessary.”

He darted out the door and took off running down the hallway before she could chase him down and hit him again.

Darth Themis

 

[Darth Themis]

Themis scooped up the Lightsaber and hid it as her own creation, Moya Virtu , came out to meet her.

"Creator? You're here..." Moya trailed, looking like a middle aged version of Themis's preferred appearance in a long black medical gown. She was very difficult to sense with the Force. Themis felt bad about not having contacted her more often despite having opportunities to do so. She owed this creature bearing her face a massive feth load of favors for taking care of her injured Grandchild. But Moya wasn't in on the loop, and Laertia was adamant against bringing her into the loop. Moya thought she was still just a very powerful, very, 'very' eccentric Jedi. Themis herself didn't want to either...when she had helped create her, she had intended Virtu to be what people thought Themis had been masquerading as Moya De Lifte. Themis hated the idea of making her life any more unpleasant than it had already become by burdening her with terrible secrets. But the issue would inevitably rear its ugly head someday...

"Hello, Moya. Its good to see you again. I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances..." Themis spoke. "How's Laertia?"

"As well as can be expected considering what she did at Dantooine. But she is deeply conflicted over it...whatever you're here for...go easy on her...she's under severe stress. I don't know what more will do...she barely held it together after learning the truth about Ursula..."

Moya then turned to Drutin.

"Alyosha right? She's told me about you. You have my thanks for saving my daughter's life...you're welcome aboard the Absolution any time." Moya assured him with a nod and a smile.

"Hey, uh, Moya, got a favor to ask...take this Lightsaber and put it under lock and key in a safe. Don't let anyone but Laertia see it.

Moya took the curved hilt and pocketed it.

"No problem. Enjoy your stay aboard here, for what its worth..." Moya said. "Let me know if you require anything...she's heading this way as a matter of fact.

"You're a dear, Moya..." Themis assured her as she then led Alyosha to a passage where she spotted Laertia walking to them. Laertia had a confidence to her stride, Themis hadn't seen before.

"Hello, Grandmother..." Laertia greeted before spotting Alyosha Drutin as she came to a stop.

"Hi Alyosha. Always nice to run into you." Laertia said.

"Laertia..." Themis said, going over to her. "Are you okay? I heard about Dantooine--"

"The NJO and NIO would not see reason." Laertia said quietly. "I was left with no choice but to fight them in order to frustrate their two-front war effort. My hope is by making things bloody and costly enough for them, they'll rethink their plans and refocus on the Bryn'adul."

"They never cave that easily. They'll kill you first."

"That's why we're going to inflict as many casualties of war as we have to..." Laertia replied.

Themis was...intrigued by the difference in Laertia with her speech impediment and Laertia without it. With it, Laertia picked her time to speak and spoke as clearly as possible when she did. Laertia without the impediment did much the same. But there was a terse undercurrent to it, not intentional of course. There was weight to her words, and gravity. Real gravity. Her voice, free of the chains, had a slight contralto to it, and with the loss of those chains had come a complete change in body language. Where as before Laertia moved confidently only in a fight, now she moved with a liquid grace and authority to her posture. Themis went still with sorrow as she realized it was Phyre's magic, suppressing the impediment. Laertia had never been free to be so openly confident in and of herself before. The voice now matched the Mind behind it: Sharp, Concise, and not suffering foolishness gladly.

Yes...she could see it now. Laertia indeed would become Darth Xiphos...a Light Side Sith Marauder of terrible power...

But at what cost?

Themis wished she knew, but that was something even the visions, the maddening visions, did not show her. Oh, how she wished to see...

"Take it slow, Laertia. Very slow. The road to hell is paved with good intentions..." Themis warned, wanting to hug her, hold her, tell her everything was going to be okay...but she knew it wouldn't be.

She saw Jacen Nimdok running down a passage, after a large yell that was heard.

"What the hell is up with him?" Laertia asked.

"He rolled a 007-teen..." Themis remarked slyly with a troll grin. "But that's alllllllllll he rolled...heh..."

Laertia rolled her eyes, not getting the joke, and began moving down the passageways to Starlin's quarters, wanting to check up on him, her hooded, obsidian kimono swaying as she walked.

"So, about the ones who supported you during the Dantooine campaign..." Themis mentioned.

" Starlin Rand didn't support me so much as he supports Syd. He suffered because of my decision to go to Dantooine. I'll have to live the rest of my life knowing an innocent boy got his hand chopped off because I couldn't stay quiet when Starchaser folded. I may have destroyed Syd's life also..."

"Syd? That's the name of the Red Head?"

"Yes. Syd Celsius...she and I are...well...she's my significant other..." Laertia said, getting some of that old shyness and nervousness back for a split second. Her eyes darted away from Themis and Alyosha for a few seconds to avoid looking them in the eye. Laertia was clearly unused to talking about her relationships.

Laertia actually then smiled. "As a matter of fact...she's heading here right now..."

Themis went cold on the inside, but hid it.

Themis then felt a Light Side Presence getting close but that meant nothing. She'd know when she looked into her eyes.

And then, she saw her...

("Terminated" by Junkie XL Plays)

She was in a long but form fitting bronze gown, hair as red as ever. Themis felt her heart skip a beat and she struggled to maintain composure as she approached.

The walk was familiar...somewhat. Still as athletic as ever, clearly. Themis wanted to be sick as she felt Julia become giddy and nervous at her presence.

It took all her self control not to try and kill her as she came to a stop in front of them. Her eyes looked red, as though she had only recently stopped crying. Her irises were orange.

"Syd? Are...are you alright...?" Laertia asked.

"I have my composure back, if nothing else." Syd answered truthfully.

Laertia went and took Syd's hand lovingly and Themis almost threw up in disgust.

"Syd...I wanna introduce you to someone special...this is the woman who built Moya. Master Carrie and her apprentice, Harrison. She's...a friend...a close friend..."

Themis realized this situation was way more complex than even she thought. It was evidence Laertia was actively compartmentalizing information. From multiple parties. She didn't seem to want Syd knowing who Themis really was either.

Syd, curiously, held no recognition or hatred in her eyes. Themis went still as she looked into them. Nothing. She didn't see Phyre. But what if she was just hiding it, even from herself? The Cult had a nasty habit of doing that. But the more Themis subtly stretched out her senses, straining her sight the answer was the same: there was no taint of the Brain Demon's magic anywhere in range of Syd.

It didn't make any sense...none of it did...

Syd gave a polite nod.

"Its always nice to meet another of Laertia's friends..."

Themis hid the desire to snap Syd's neck as she managed a smile back.

"It's nice to meet you...Syd..."

 

[Kai and Gerda]

The first person they encountered aboard the praxeum was a woman who looked just like Themis, except a couple of decades or so older. Alyosha blinked in surprise at the sight of Moya, unable to detect her presence in the Force. She referred to Laertia as her “daughter”. Well, he supposed it made sense, in a way. Themis had called herself Laertia’s grandmother…

“Laertia is a friend of mine. I’ll do anything for my friends.”

Then Laertia herself arrived. Alyosha was startled to find that her speech impediment had vanished. She seemed far more confident and assured of herself, all because of such a minor tweak. Well, perhaps not minor, but still. He hadn’t realized how much of an influence her garbled speech had on her behavior and self-image.

When she greeted him, his gaze, normally hard and cold, softened considerably, as though he were smiling with his eyes. He was carefully not to show any sign of pity. “Hi, Laertia. Glad to see you’re… safe.” He had cycled through several different words, well, healthy, and happy among them, before settling on the least weighted term. Laertia wasn’t doing well; she had just alienated or even betrayed many people who might’ve been her friends and comrades otherwise. She wasn’t healthy after fighting and killing Jedi at Dantooine, if not physically, then certainly not emotionally. Given all this, he didn’t see how she could be happy, either.

Alyosha sensed Themis’ surge of sorrow as she realized Phyre was responsible for suppressing the impediment. But his attention was taken off the pair as Nimdok ran past.

“You?!”

Nimdok slowed and turned to face Alyosha, his brow furrowed. “Me?”

“You’re that schutta who hired me to go to Boz Pity!” Alyosha exclaimed. “To find that artifact that was supposed to bring people back from the dead! I busted my ass trying to get past the other idiots who were there to explore the tomb!”

“Did you find the artifact?”

“No! Didn’t you get my message? The place was crawling with Jedi and full of traps. I got the hell out of there.” Granted, he had made the mistake of trying to lure one of the more attractive Jedi away in order to capture her and sell her for a bounty, but nobody's perfect.

“Oh.” Nimdok’s interest in Alyosha began to wane. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m here to visit a sick friend.”

“I’m here—” Alyosha broke off as Themis’ hatred and disgust reached a plateau. He turned away from the professor and came face to face with Phyre.

She was a striking woman—every female who had ever been associated with Laertia seemed to be exceptionally gorgeous—but Phyre in particular looked like no one he had ever seen before. With fiery hair, orange eyes, and sculpted Atrisian features, it was hard to take his eyes off of her, though not exactly for the most positive reasons. There was something terrifying about her, an unnaturalness, a violence to her form that he couldn’t ignore. Hers was a great and terrible beauty.

But she also had a very noticeable Light Side aura. That couldn’t be right. This woman was supposed to have butchered thousands. How could she be anything other than Dark?...

Laertia introduced her as Syd, and Themis and Alyosha became Master Carrie and her apprentice Harrison. Harrison? Well, it wasn’t a terrible alias, he supposed. What was more troubling was the fact that Laertia felt the need to give them alternate identities. Still, he kept his mouth shut and rolled with it.

“Nice to meet you,” he echoed Themis’ greeting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Nimdok was still standing there off to the side, partially hidden behind a potted plant. Alyosha shot him a glare that clearly conveyed Get the hell out you hobgoblin, you’re not wanted here. In response, Nimdok smirked. He wasn't going anywhere unless forced.

Darth Themis