A New Life

[Vhiran Antilles]

Vhiran had never felt more uncomfortable in his life.

It wasn't anything to do with Emelie. Sure, things were a little odd between them still, but if anything being wrapped around her little finger and at her beck and call was about the only thing on Cloud City that did feel comfortable. It was everything else that felt weird. It was wandering around the white and swanky upper levels of Cloud City, feeling perpetually out of place with the same scruffy hair and scruffy outfit that he always wore. It was the food. The restaurants. The fact that there was a Biscuit Baron or an Apollo's Caf joint visible at all times. It was the Byblos vibe of the architecture and the social set-up, but populated by the assorted dregs of the Outer Rim. It was the fact that they were standing on a Force-damned flying city, instead of having solid ground beneath his feet.

Even down here in the lower levels, Vhiran felt out of place. He half wondered if Emelie had picked up on things, and brought him down to Port Town out of sympathy. Surround him with the kind of scummy grime and crime he was used to. But even that didn't help; even that didn't feel the way it was supposed to feel.

Maybe it wasn't even the place that was wrong; maybe it was just him. Maybe it was the fact that he had to remind himself not to case the joint, because Emelie actually owned all this stuff. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't supposed to constantly be working on an exit strategy, because this wasn't some con that he might need to bail on. Maybe it was the fact that he had been wandering around the city the last few days being himself; it had been so long since he'd done that in public that he wasn't even sure he remembered who that was.

He wondered if Emelie felt any of this: if it was weird for her having him around, or if she was just so at peace and settled in the nest of security and authority she'd built for herself that none of it really mattered. He wondered how much of today - of her offer to show him around and help him settle in - was really about Vhiran's own peace of mind, and how much was about Emelie's own secret insecurity, showing her oldest friend the empire she was building for herself, and hoping that he would approve.

He almost snagged her hand as they stood there, gazing around the interior of Elysium: the same Emelie-owned nightclub that Vhiran had stumbled past when he first arrived. That was what people did, right? Held hands to offer comfort and reassurance? That wasn't really them, though. The kind of woman Emelie was, she'd probably rather his hand was up her blouse than wrapped around hers. It was a relief and a worry in equal measure. When the doors were locked and the clothes were off, he knew exactly the kind of man that Emelie needed and wanted him to be. The rest of the time, though? How was any of this even supposed to work?

If any part of Emelie really was looking for his approval, it certainly got it. Vhiran had kept tabs on her enough to know that this wasn't her first boozary - there was some dive back on Coruscant, and maybe something about a vineyard? - but this was something else. What must have been an empty box, a warehouse or something of that ilk, had turned into the kind of stylish venue that Vhiran had spent half his life in. Industrial facets of Cloud City's construction and operation were woven into the design, steam pipes, coolant conduits, giant gears and mechanisms gracing the walls and ceilings, breaking the club down naturally into the kinds of zones such a place was meant to have. With the lights full up, the space seemed fairly benign; but in the dimness of night, with thumping music and crowds of half-sober patrons milling about, it was riddled with the kinds of nooks and blindspots that any good nightclub needed, so that the requisite drug use and inebriated friskiness could all go down.

"You had me worried," Vhiran muttered, fighting against the urge to grin in order to keep some semblance of a stoic expression in place. "Thought that between your swanky penthouses and your legitimate businesses, you might 'ave gone and got borin' in your old age."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

"Me?" Emelie felt one of her eyebrows raise in mock surprise. "Never."

The simple word was uttered with such flair and drama that she almost felt ashamed of herself for a moment, but it was the sort of obvious overact she knew Vhiran had at one time been more than used to. It felt strange still, having him around and mixing the old with the new as it were. It was good too, though. After their little heart-to-heart and between sessions of exertion she'd finally managed to find the time to tell him the not-so-sort version of what all she had been up to since they had parted ways all those years ago. It was one thing to tell a story, however, and an entirely other thing to be able to actually spread your arms and show what you had managed to achieve.

"This is really only the beginning of my entertainment ventures, though. I've been looking into how much it would cost to convert one of those old abandoned mining platforms into a distillery. Figured I could turn that and my winery away from private reserve only into a bit of a more... inclusive brand. Still only produce low volume, keep the demand and intrigue and all. Maybe some sort of members-only availability..." She shrugged as her voice trailed off. "But that's all topic for another day, I think."

As much as she had been present during the construction of the club, it was still strange to see Elysium in it's off hours. There was something too bright about it, too quiet. "But this? This is my baby, I suppose. A place to call my own even if it doesn't share my name. It's almost more home than my actual apartment, to be honest. We haven't done a Grand Opening just yet, just a soft one, but it's already packed most nights. Let slip some information to the holonet... few of those pop-up overnight parties with no planning that goes viral that the kids are all about nowadays."

Emelie glanced over to Vhiran, looking for... Well, she wasn't quite sure. It wasn't approval, not exactly anyway. She just wanted him to see. And of course, to introduce him to the rest of the family. At the end of the day that's probably what she and the others that made up The Exchange really could be considered. As dysfunctional and everything else they might be considered, their bonds were growing quickly and already Emelie knew the list of things she would do for any one of them far out numbered the things she would probably have to put some good thought into first. It felt right adding Vhiran to the list again.

"So, what do you think? Want anything from the bar before we head down to... frak, what are they calling it now? Underworld? The Excave?" Her hand waved it off. "Whatever, you'll see."

[Vhiran Antilles]

What did he think?

That was a question with a million different answers, very few of them useful or relevant. His mind was too busy getting caught up in the way that Emelie sounded. She was so certain. So sure. She had plans. Ambitions. Ventures. Ones that were only just beginning no less. She was talking about brands, about a veritable business empire; and here he was, wearing pretty much the same old clothes day after day because he couldn't even manage to plan an outfit. They could not have been more dissimilar; could not have been more worlds apart. Were this the Vhiran from ten years ago, he would have felt nothing but pride for how resoundingly Emelie had got her life together and made something of herself. The Vhiran of today though kept finding himself distracted by that sentiment, tugged back to the notion that he was exactly the bloody same.

Maybe that was for the best, though. Maybe that was the role he was destined for in all this: a blast from the past, some reliable old relic, a tiny fragment of her whole life to fall back on and fall back in bed with; the naked times equivalent of a comfort blanket. He supposed he could live with that; supposed that if he was going to keep on keeping on with the same old, he might as well do that in a place where he was in good with the boss, right? Bound to be some perks that came along with that; aside from the obvious, of course.

"What I think -" he began slowly, wrestling his mind to focus on the conversation right in front of him. It seemed almost criminal, letting himself get distracted from Emelie Shadowstar like that. He bet that Emelie would have a few choice words and a few choice sultry and seductive glances to give him if she realised it, too. Damn that woman and the power she had over him. Of course, that notion brought with it all kinds of distractions of it's own. What I think is that we should forget the tour, and find somewhere private to tear each other's bloody clothes off.

"- is that you went an' took the somethin' pretty great that you were already, and went an' made it even more... y'know..."

He trailed off, trying to fumble past everything inside his head - including, most importantly, his actual personality - in order to try and find something nice that a normal human being would say. He found himself gesturing vaguely, hand waving in the direction of Emelie's frustratingly distracting curves. Not helping.

He looked away; frowned; shrugged his shoulders a little. Maybe it would be easier if he tried to talk to that light fixing over in the corner rather than Emelie. He sniffed, scrubbing his hand beneath his nose before frowning again, and digging his hands deep into his pockets to keep them still.

"If I were the kind a' person who was good at all that touchy-feely talkin' stuff -" Instead of just the regular hands-on kind of touchy-feely. "- I would probably... y'know. Tell you I was impressed with all this, an' proud a' what you've made a' yourself, an' for yourself, and that kinda stuff. But you know me though, eh? I never -"

His voice faltered; his frown deepened; his eyes glanced in Emelie's direction, making contact with hers for just a second before they dodged away.

"I never really get around to sayin' that sort of stuff, do I? No matter how much I'm always thinkin' it."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

There was something genuine in the smile that formed as he spoke; even at how choppy it was, maybe because of it. People like them, they were good with playing a part or expressing more carnal things. Actual feelings, though? They were muddy and the damn near fact that Vhiran was even trying meant a hell of a lot more than some platitudes. She had expected a simple "It's great, Em." and to leave it there, which would have been more than enough. But an extra step was taken, something of an attempt at bridging the maw between them that still existed even when they couldn't be any physically closer. Vhiran had genuinely seen her at her worst, notwhat most people would consider as such but most vulnerable was certainly something anyone could understand. She had literally nothing when they had first met and now? Now she felt like she was in position to set herself up to take over the whole damn planet if she had a mind to.

"Eventually you do. Sometimes." That same stupid smile was still wearing itself out on her and if she didn't make a change of subjects they were going to either end up having some weirdo pseudo moment that would probably be more awkward than anything else... or she was going to have to quickly find a way to turn off the security feeds inside the club.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the slicer-kid before we go falling down any black holes."

She thought about tugging his hand along but left it. Physical contact was only going to end one way right now and while she wasn't above giving a show in her younger days, that sort of deal was best left to private moments now.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

There was somethin' nice 'bout havin' a space all your own. Yeah okay so was no big shocker now days that she'd gone an' really situated herself 'board Vitt's ship but that was home and this was hers and that was different. This was... Okay so technically it was the bosslady's joint and all them pretty arse monitors and data streams were all goin' towards servin' her and her fancies and a whole heap of times Sadie weren't actually alone down here but had Nen... but that was all just details and junk. All of them knew that the underside of the Elysium was property number one of Sadie kriffin K'Vesh. Well, okay then, so maybe she was User Zero Two, as the frakkin computer was so apt at remindin' her every time she came walkin' down those steps but she weren't complainin' none.

Still. Her space. Which meant her frakkin' mess. Which meant that if Sadie didn't feel like trashin' the many lil' containers that had made up today's Sullustan takeout lunch then she frakkin' well wasn't gonna. Later though. Weren't gonna risk drippin' no day old sauce on her consoles. No day fresh, neither. Place might look a right down mess but she knew where the trouble makers were and they were far outta knock over range. Vitt was gonna kill her, though. Havin' good rolls without him.

"Jus' our lil' secret, savy?" She threatened the empty little wrapper that had more than enough for sharin'.

Secrets don't stay secret though and THAT was the damn problem with the whole damn verse. Seemed the bosslady had some unexpected visit with some unexpected John that she couldn't make heads or tails of. Looked kinda like Inyos with that damn coat though but the blonde hair...

The blonde hair...

"Son offa kath."

[Vhiran Antilles]

They said said that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Vhiran knew from experience that the adage was pretty damned accurate. It was something he'd learned mostly by trial and error, having made a habit of scorning a lot of women across the years. If he ever bothered to stop and think about it, it probably all started with Emelie: he'd cocked things up big time there, and on some level he had probably decided he didn't deserve nice things, or happiness, or anything like that; so he swaggered his way around the galaxy, burning every bridge within reach as he went.

It'd worked out pretty well, all things considered; for the last decade at least. Worked pretty well as a strategy if you never planned on returning to the same place twice. Sure, made it a pain in the ass to learn your way around, or find a bar that you really liked; but he'd seen a lot of the galaxy, and had screwed - and screwed over - a whole heck of a lot of people. The only part where the plan started to fall apart is if you found yourself in a situation like this: being herded into a secret basement room by one of those scorned women, with another of them lying in wait for you.

"Bloody hell."

Vhiran's hand gripped around the railing of the stairway that led down into the nest of computers and hardware, thoughts swimming through his head as he froze in place, wide-eyed. It seemed impossible, but the moment that profanity and that accent tumbled out of her mouth, there wasn't any doubt. How long had it been, since the last time he'd seen her on Nar Shaddaa? Six years or so? And somehow, in defiance of all kinds of odds and statistics, she was here as well. First Emelie Shadowstar; and now Big Sid.

Suddenly, the stories that Emelie had explained to him earlier began to resolve into some sort of clarity. Emelie had told him about a slicer kid that she'd helped rescue from Nar Shaddaa; some kind of computer prodigy that made her whole Exchange operation come together. He hadn't even for a moment considered the possibility that it might be the same too smart for her own good, feisty, adorable little brat he'd known and run with back then. The bottom fell out of his stomach as he relived what Emelie had said: the brief touches on the abuse and brutal treatment she'd been on the receiving end before Emelie's pet hunter had shown up to help her out. That was his fault, in part at least: that was the fate he'd left her to when he'd abandoned her; that was where the life he'd helped her into had left.

"My gods, Sadie."

It felt almost like slow motion as he descended down the stairs, the twisting knot of guilt growing tighter with each footfall. The only thing that made it any easier was the fact that she was staring at him in disbelief; made it easier to find her eyes with his sorrow-filled own. He stopped as soon as he reached the floor below, keeping his distance as if she were some kind of startled animal. When his voice finally emerged, all the swagger and confidence was gone; just a soft half-whisper and a rough undertone left behind.

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't know."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

For all the shock and upset that was passing between Sadie and Vhiran, Emelie felt just as dumbfounded. Her eyes rolled skyward to glare at whatever cosmic entity thought this was hilarious. For all the vastness of an entire Galaxy it seemed The Exchange was doomed to play Six Degrees of Ceto Rübezahl - Which wasn't even funny because of where the hells they were all located. Nevermind the fact this was more like one degree or no degrees at all. They were all on some sort of straight line moving at different speeds at different times, doomed to collide again and again. Or maybe it was a circle. Frak, Emelie didn't know how to think of it at that moment. All she needed now was for one of her cousins to show up, and it probably wouldn't even be one of the fun ones.

The same guilt that had welled up when Sadie had first step foot on Cloud City threatened to rise up again. The kid had enough damn surprises lately what with Atton pulling the I am your uncle business on her and that Jedi showing up. For all the trouble the girl had been in the past, it all was a distant memory now and Emelie wanted nothing more than to give the kid as easy of a life as possible. No here she was parading something that looked suspiciously like an old wound. Force, if you exist and don't hate me, don't let this be as awkward as I know you can make it. The last thing her little family needed was something like that to pop up. Not that she particularly thought Vhiran would go for someone as young as Sadie but the way the galaxy liked screwing everyone around, you never knew.

A slew of comments were on the tip of her tongue, they were all obvious in nature and would have done nothing to help anyone just then and so in some miracle Emelie managed to hold onto her bit of self control and stayed silent. A small comm was readied in her hand, though. Frak knew how this was going to play out and if things got ugly, she was going to need backup of the surly bounty hunter sort.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Oooh bloody seven hells she'd been ready for him. Not that Sadie was all that great with words and the like but she was thinkin' up a right ton of ones she'd been wantin' t' say to the ruttin' bastard next time their paths crossed. How could you just up an' bail on me? I was a stupid teenager! I could have DIED on m' onsies! Y're lucky Bog 'n em found me!

Last bit of inner tirade was a soberin' thought. 'Kay so maybe not all that lucky in hindsight. Maybe that was the rub of it. If Sadie had never stopped workin' with Vhiran's crew then she'd never have gone and even met Bog-frakin-'el and the gorram band. Or at least she'd have her mentor type guy to tell her that the Zabrak seemed like bad news. Bloody deathstick smokin' bastard always seemed to know how people really were after just one meetin'.

That look on Vhiran's face meant that the bosslady had gone and told the gran' ol' tale of how Sadie had almost gotten turned t' paste too. Peachy. Just kriffin' ryshcate and sunshine for everyone.

Sadie didn't give no care if she was all shocked and mad lookin'. 'Bout time some of that inner emotion crap came tumblin' out on someone else. She weren't a violent type of soul, no more than most folks but damned if she didn't take a few steps and if her arm didn't raise just so a fist could come 'round and clock 'ol grumpface on the jaw.

"That's f' kickin' me out on th' streets. Alla them jobs I help you pull an' that was th' thanks I get?"

Frakkin hells did her hand hurt and Sadie shook it t' try and make some of the ache go away. Does that gose even kriffin work? One hells of a deep breath was taken before she plunked herself back down in her chair and glanced at the bosslady.

"Sorry boss. Done now."

[Vhiran Antilles]

It didn't hurt as much as it should have. Or rather, not as much as Vhiran wished it did. He deserved it after all. Sadie was right: he'd turned his back on the kind of person who deserved it the least. What he'd thought a few days ago was an opportunity for closure, and what had seemed to have transformed into an opportunity for atonement and second chances, was rapidly revealing it's true nature: a grand tour of all Vhiran's past mistakes. The way today was shaping up, his ex-wife was probably waiting outside in the corridor to kick him in the balls.

At least with Emelie, he'd known where to begin. He'd had all these years of guilt and time to rehearse in his mind what he might say; work out how to convince her that the blame was entirely his. With Sadie though, it wasn't; or at least, not entirely. There was a fine line between reasons and excuses, and trying to explain this one away would sure as hell straddle it; but there were circumstances there, maybe even mitigating ones. Still selfish, still foolish, but still: reasons.

Something tugged at the edge of his of his perception; something on the back of his neck prickled; something in his mind urged him to turn and look up the stairs. For a fleeting moment he thought he was looking for Emelie: perhaps looking for her to intervene, or perhaps looking to see the scorn in her eyes that he knew he deserved. Instead he saw something else. Someone else. Two someones in fact, but only one of them mattered.

"You."

In one fluid motion Vhiran turned, coat flaring out, a blaster appearing in his hand. Without a waver of hesitation he aimed it back up the stairs he'd descended, squarely at the chest of yet another blast from the past.

"You bloody son of a bitch."

[Nen Lev'i]

"Oh gods, what did I do?"

The words tumbled out of Nen's mouth before he even understood what was going on. It was a good thing to, because about half a second later realisation had dawned, and he completely lost all ability to speak; and maybe a little bit of waist down bodily function control as well. Here he was, minding his own business, showing up a little late to meet the "new guy" - how great was it that Nen wasn't the new guy any more?! - because he'd been finishing up errands in the office and because Emelie had asked him to grab her a caf on the way down; and suddenly there was a blaster aimed up the stairs at him.

Not just any blaster, either. Well okay, the blaster wasn't all that significant, but the arm holding it was. That arm was attached to one Vhiran Antilles, who had the rare distinction of being one of the earliest people that Nen remembered meeting. Not because Vhiran had known him when he was just a tiny Nen instead of an adult Nen, mind you: more because of the whole amnesia, not remembering anything about himself prior to a few years ago thing. Vhiran had been one of the mercs, or bounty hunters, or crooks, or whatever the heck it was that he did, one of them, who Doctor Arlan had known and done whatever it was that he did back then, and just - it was just really weird, okay?

But then relief came all of a sudden, on the far side of a flinch as Vhiran Antilles pulled back on the trigger and sent a bolt of energy racing up the stairs. Partly, the relief was because the bolt was clearly stun energy, and while that wasn't exactly unpleasant, it wasn't typically fatal - not unless you were suffering from a heart condition, or had a really weird allergy or something. The other, arguably more important part, was the fact that the bolt didn't hit Nen at all, but rather clattered into the thigh of Atton Kira, the other man who'd just entered, buckling his leg beneath him and sending him tumbling down the stairs.

A huge sigh of relief escaped from Nen, hand clutching his chest as he slumped against the stairway railing.

"Gods, Vhiran," he muttered, loud enough for his voice to carry down the stairway. "I thought you were gonna shoot me!"

A pleasant smile perked it's way onto his face. "Ello, by the way. Good to see you, an' all that."

Wait, hang on a minute.

Nen's eyes widened. Realisation dawned.

Vhiran Antilles just shot someone.

Why were people getting shot?

[Vhiran Antilles]

Emelie Shadowstar. Sadie K'Vesh. Atton Kira. Nen Lev'i.

Vhiran could feel his heart racing in his chest. He could feel the world closing in around him. This wasn't right. This wasn't normal. This wasn't natural. Something was going on here, some sort of game; some sort of cosmic mindfuck that the universe had decided to throw his way, just for kicks. Or maybe this wasn't even reality at all. Maybe this was what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes before they died; maybe he was lying bloodied in a ditch somewhere. Maybe this was some sort of drug and alcohol delirium, and it was only a matter of time before he woke up cuddled around yet another empty bottle. Or maybe it was more than that; maybe his mind had gone and fractured itself all over again. Maybe he'd never even left Kalresh, and this was all just some figment of his sanity-challenged psyche, drawing on the same few characters over and over because his fellow inmates were the only references he could draw on.

The heel of his empty hand ground into his temple. "Do you 'ave any employees that don't already 'ave reasons to 'ate me?" he asked exasperated, casting his voice up in Emelie's direction. He thought he saw Nen Lev'i's hand shift, like he was answering some sort of question in class. Not bloody now, kid.

Vhiran didn't wait for an answer. Tossing the gun away so that nobody got any ideas about him needing to be shot as well, he grabbed for the scruff of Atton's shirt, wrenching him from where he'd tumbled into a slightly more accessible position, back pressed up against the metal stairs.

"This nasty little bastard 'ere is the reason I left, Sadie."

His voice was a shout now; a bellow that swelled to fill the entirety of the secret space in which he found himself. His expression alternated between a smile and a grin, eyes a little wild as he alternated between glances at Sadie, and glares at the victim in his grasp. It had only been a grazing stun: not enough to render his entire nervous system inactive, just enough to numb out his leg; Vhiran was relying on the tumble to negate any prospect of him fighting back and running away. It was a handy tactic, something he'd picked up on the way through his life: stunning people wasn't always that useful; there were times when you didn't want to shut down a body's ability to feel sensations and pain.

"Y'see, him an' me? We 'ad a deal. Tidy little arrangement. Every once in a while, he'd slip me a job, an' I'd get it done, no questions. An' heist here, a shakedown there; usual fair for a man in my like a' life. In return, he'd slip me intel every once in a while. He'd -"

His voice faltered, eyes changing, gaze looking up to find Emelie for just a moment.

"He'd tell me about you. Let me know you were doin' okay. Kept tabs. Made sure I knew you were safe."

The muscles in his jaw bunched, eyes finding Sadie now.

"Until I met you. Then suddenly, this arrangement we 'ad became subject to change. Y'see, this bastard piece of rancid garbage here? He weren't all that fond a' me an' you runnin' around together. Tolerated it for a little while, maybe figured that between the two of us, one'd just drift on at some point or another. But eventually, he comes to me, all smug smiles and shady looks. Gives me an ultimatum: leave the kid alone, or never 'ear a whisper about Emelie ever again. He made me -"

He trailed off, deep angry breaths drawn into his lungs. His lips curled into a snarl.

"You made me choose between the kid I cared about, an' the woman that I -"

Even now he couldn't bring himself to say it; the word he said to Emelie so easily, except when it actually mattered. His grip tightened on the scruff of Atton's shirt, the other hand reeling back and balling into a fist.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't cave your smarmy little face in an' spare us all the ordeal of your acquaintance, you manipulative little bastard."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"He's pro'ly th' only reason I was able t' deck ya an' I ain't still bleedin' out on Nar Shaddaa."

Was a bit of a moment there where everythin' had seemed to go belly up and Sadie figured she'd lend a voice since it sure as frak looked like if the bosslady facepalmed any harder those two body parts of hers were gonna end up one. Hilarious as all get that would be, would probably make her right cross and Sadie had no real reasons to let that happen.

Atton was a downright scary person sometimes, but he probably knew that. All those tabs he kept on folks were mighty handy in bringin' 'em together when it suited it seemed. Or maybe not. No tellin' what it was that brought Vhiran 'round these parts in the first place and the fact he knew Em - apparently more than just a bit, surprise surprise - surely weren't no mistake. He knew Nen too, apparently. Well weren't it a small verse after all.

"An' if anyone's got dibs on shootin' him, pretty sure it's his bloody niece, yeah?" Not that she would. Probably. Mostly.

For th' love of all... She'd just gotten used t' thinkin' of Atton as Uncle Atton and now another bit of trivia of him steppin' in and tryin' to help her out but makin' her life worse for it. At least he hadn't told Vittore to stay away. Yet. Uncle or no, Atton better have known better than that by now. Still, she'd learned he had pushed and pulled at the strings of everythin' at times in keepin' her life movin', but damn if she didn't feel like he was one hell of a manipulative bastard just like Vhiran said.

She wanted to go an' curse up a storm or ask rather meanly if there was some gorram part of her life that Atton hadn't planned the hell out of to land them all here. Complete with all implications of everythin' that had happened t' her, recent events included. After all, she hadn't gotten hurt, she wouldnt'a ended up here now would she? Not in person no how. But nah, that was too frakkin cruel and no way was Atton that much of a bastard.

Still was irkin' though. Knowin' a man was adjustin' things in your life and couldn't really you know... put her somewhere nice at least? Vhiran hadn't been no father figure or great hero or the type of guy you really went and looked to for some sort of moral compass but she'd done okay with him just the same. Atton told him to frak off but he couldn't do the same with Bog? The frell was that about?

The more she thought about it all the more mad she got and those blue eyes of hers could look downright icy at times. Probably did now as they turned on her lone family member.

Standin' up from the seat this round hurt. Probably on account of a whole heap of tension that was buildin' in her shoulders makin' her move a bit unnaturally and it tuggin' at bits of her that still weren't too keen on bein' shifted around so much.

A deep breath was taken, readyin' herself for the bits she needed to say and gainin' that effort to keep in what didn't.

"You," she pointed at Vhiran. "We're good. You kill my uncle though an' that's gonna go right out th' airlock an' I will sick my boyfriend on your Alderaanian arse if I don't feel like comin' for y' first."

"You," she pointed at Em this round. "Force sake woman, do some background checks on folks before y' go prancin' anyone else in. Supposed t' be some sort of all seein', all knowin' info broker now. This sorta dren is downright embarassin'."

Which left...

"An' you." Atton. "You an' me? We got some more talkin' t' do, but I'll come when I'm ready for it. For th' meantime... Stop meddlin'. Ain't y' job no more, savy?"

Okay not entirely true. As she was walkin' out she stopped at Nen.

"We're always good. Watch th' comms for me? I gotta get some fresh air." She thought 'bout askin' him what they should do for lunch tomorrow but all things considered if Sadie stuck around much longer she'd probably be yellin' or somethin'.

Her peace said, Sadie did what she did when things got too damned crazy. Bailed. Nothin' permanent, but damn if she didn't need t' go watch some trashy old holoshows with Vitt or somethin' just then.

[Vhiran Antilles]

Uncle?

That. There was some. There was some sense there.

Vhiran grimaced, trying to frown his way through the thoughts of a mind that was struggling to process. It explained a lot, in some sort of warped and backwards way. Overprotectiveness. He guessed that was the way you were supposed to get around family.

And at least Sadie knew now, right? And there was forgiveness he realised, as he watched her disappear and the door close behind her. We're good. More of something he didn't deserve. But right now? Right now he didn't mind so much. Right now he was glad to have one less piece of crushing guilt to deal with; his damned lungs seemed to be crushing themselves all on his own. Gods, he could go for a smoke right about now.

Vhiran's hand went for his chest, reaching for where the deathsticks could be, but they didn't quite manage it. A step was staggered backwards, his frown deepening. What the hell was this? Why had the air got so hot and close in here all of a sudden?

He felt a tightening in his chest. A cough worked it's way out of his lungs. He caught it with a hand. A spatter of crimson. What the bollocks is -?

Vhiran felt himself sway; stagger again. He barely managed to catch himself against the stairway railing; barely managing to split his descent towards the floor into two slightly less painful stages. The room began to swim and swirl around him as he felt his body thunk against the deck plates.

Bloody hell, he thought to himself, as his consciousness slowly drifted away.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie had heard tell a time or two that a good walk about was one of them cures for when you were agitated. Load of sithspit, that. Maybe it worked for other folks but it sure as frak weren't workin' out for her. All it served purpose was to leave her alone with thoughts and that just made things all kinds of worse. Yeah, okay, so life was workin' out pretty shiny for her now and truth be told she wasn't 'bout t' go wishin' things had been different and risk changin' the current state. For one in her gorram force forsaken life she could genuinely say she was happy with things just the way they were. Fair enough she could make due with a little less blasts from the past showin' up all unannounced like but you take the good with the bad.

Atton though, she was gettin' a right big picture that there'd been a whole lot of stuff that he weren't tellin' folks and a whole lot of holy crap coincidences that were probably really just machinations brought on by one of the most secretly influential bastards in the entire verse. She had to give him his due for that, was down right applaudable to think 'bout if you weren't one of his game pieces bein' moved 'round. There seemed to be some sort of greater good attempts bein' made and she couldn't fault the guy for tryin' to cover her arse without so much as lettin' her know he existed but kriffin' hells it was downright infuriatin'.

She was reconin' that sit down was gonna have to happen sooner rather than later. Sadie was gonna make that uncle of hers buy her the most expensive damn whiskey on Cloud City and they were gonna plop down in some chairs and she was gonna get the full gorram story out of him. Make him come clean on everythin' he'd done that even remotely involved the likes of her and probably anybody else in their li'l group. No more ruttin' secrets. He should see the wisdom in that, if today hadn't gone and proven the point then Sadie would make it clear as a sunny day on Tatooine.

Weren't gonna happen today though. She'd be more likely t' throw the bottle at his head than help drink it at this point. It was probably an irrational sort of anger she was dealin' with, one of them things where your head was sussin' out all the logical reasons why y' were and didn't need to be and if you were a better person you'd have cooled your jets by now and been done with it. Not this time though, she was buildin' up like some sort of little time bomb. Maybe I shouldn't talk t' Vitt. Last thing she wanted to do was explode all at him in some right undeservin' manner.

But nope, feet were faster than good ideas sometimes and she was already in the hangar and...

"Nope." She pointed at the person who was pretty much the polar damned opposite of the good Cap'n and let that word draw out nice and long. "Not now. Ain't in no mood for none o' that ancient passive 'gressive wisdom dren."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos' mouth opened as if to speak; but then the wave of emotions struck him, unbridled negative sentiments rolling off Sadie as she stalked her way into the room. In moments like this, he was grateful for the gifts and perceptions that the Force provided him with. Somewhat sheltered in the Temple, and somewhat of a loner by necessity in the years since, people and their mannerisms had often been something of an elusive mystery. He relied upon moments such as these, moments where people's emotions overwhelmed their body's efforts to keep them concealed; when their feelings shouted so loudly through the Force that he could literally taste them.

"Something is wrong."

His head cocked slowly to the side, brow furrowing into a frown as he tried to peer into Sadie's eyes; tried to piece together what might have caused this apparent reaction. It did not look as if she had been crying: he took that as a positive sign. Anger and frustration was one thing, but the kind of devastation that brought tears to the eyes of people was far more dangerous, and far harder to address. The lack of tears also excused Vittore Montegue from culpability, as did the reason that she was here - a location where he was highly likely to be. Inyos didn't quite know the extent of Sadie's relationship with the hunter Captain, but he had accidentally felt enough peripheral overflow to gain a sense of how important it was to her.

Something else, then. Something to cause hurt to her personally; but not a matter of the heart. He hesitated for a moment, second-guessing his natural impulse, before surrendering to it. A hand reached out before her, resting gently upon her shoulder, a sign of reassurance that he'd watched other people perform. Drawing upon the ebb and flow of the Force around him, he focused his own inner meditation and calm, channelling it through his bones and through that contact, trying to instil the faintest sense of tranquillity amid Sadie's conflicted emotions.

"You are my Padawan, Saidra. If you require it, I am always here to listen."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Whatever fight Sadie was itchin' on havin' with inner emotions or a bag of crisps kinda drained away when Inyos put it that way. It probably had something to do with the use of her full name, or the fact that the Jedi was apparently one of them folks that seemed so oblivious to things and yet aware of them that you couldn't help but like the guy. Sadie figured there was somethin' he was doin' with all that Force stuff to help diffuse, but she'd be lyin' if it weren't appreciated. As much as she had said this weren't the time for his musin' and such, she did have to remember that she'd agreed to let the guy help her out. Which apparently turned her into his... Pada- what now?

"Th' frell's that?" Yeah, so still not so great with the talkin' proper thing. Sadie did give it a go around him, though. He was a respectable sort of bein' and that lent for some respectableness. "Sorry, I mean, that word? The Pada-thingie."

She weren't quite calm yet but avoidin' the subject was grand and swell for now.

[Inyos Aamoran]

"Oh."

It was a strange notion to come to terms with: the idea that general knowledge of the Jedi Order was so much more absent than they had been in Inyos' youth. At the height of the Clone Wars, everyone knew and understood what a Padawan was. The teenage protégés of the Jedi Knights; the young Commanders of the Republic Army. It was something that the young often idolised and aspired to be; and something that the old often struggled to accept, but very quickly learned to respect once they saw the skill and dedication those Padawan brought to bear.

But for a Jedi, it was far more than that. On Ossus, they used the term so casually: a form of address for all Jedi who had not yet achieved Knighthood. For Inyos however, the bond between master and apprentice was deep and complex: and while the Jedi Order always frowned upon attachments, it was hard to experience that relationship without beginning to think of student and mentor as some kind of family. For Inyos, the pain of losing his first Padawan was, he imagined, as devastating to him as a father losing his son.

In the time that Inyos had spent out of touch with the galaxy however, that general knowledge had faded. Saidra had no comprehension of the kind of bond that such a dynamic typically entailed; and suddenly Inyos found a stab of guilt in his gut, realising that he had presumed a certain agreement to such a way of life that Saidra had never truly understood.

His hand lingered on her shoulder, but shifted slightly, rolling from the flat surface of Saidra's collarbone to rest against the upper part of her sleeve. It was another thing that he had witnessed, but he did not remember choosing to do it: it simply occurred, some buried instinct perhaps; and continued for a few moments before Inyos used the gentle pressure to guide Saidra aside, finding them a convenient surface upon which to sit.

"A Padawan is -"

Inyos trailed off, a new frown furrowing his brow. He glanced away at the moment, studying the hangar's polished deck for answers, as if somehow the Force would manifest the correct answers, neatly transcribed across his surface. But for all his familiarity with Jedi teachings, all the lessons he had learned, and experiences he had gained; none of that information was worth imparting. Very little of the old ways of the Jedi mattered any longer. The question Saidra sought to convey was not one of Padawans past: she wished to understand what the word meant.

"In the old days of the Jedi Order," he began, adopting the same gently informative tone that he had once used while explaining the complexities of the Jedi way to his first Padawan, "It was common for children sensitive to the Force to be brought to the Jedi at a very young age. In the temple on Coruscant, I was trained as a Youngling: part of a clan of young students who learned the basics of the Force, of sabercraft, and of the Jedi Code. Each Jedi began their journey to Knighthood in such a way; but not all progressed in the same manner. Every now and again, a Jedi Knight or Jedi Master would seek to deepen their relationship with the Force by training the next generation: they would choose one of the Younglings with whom they felt a special connection, and that Jedi would become their apprentice; their Padawan."

The more words that tumbled from Inyos' lips, the more something else crept into his tone, distorting the factual and dry nature of his words; something soft and wistful, some strange modest pleasure taken from the joy of speaking of fond memories.

"I was taken as a Padawan by a Jedi Master named Andor Tyree. I was not his first Padawan: by the time I became his apprentice, he was an old and wise Master, who had dedicated his life to the Jedi Order, and the service of the Republic. He was my mentor, not only teaching me the ways of the Force and the teachings of our predecessors, but also helping to shape the man that I would become. He taught me patience and understanding; he was there for each of my successes, and each of my failings; he was the hand that caught my arm every time I stumbled and fell, and is - was - one of my deepest, closest friends."

A flicker of sadness tugged at the wrinkles that gathered at the corner of Inyos eyes, a subtle reaction to that necessary correction. Was. By now, Andor Tyree was most surely dead; just was almost every member of the Order that Inyos had ever known. Perhaps some would see that as an achievement, a testament to his ability to survive. Inyos saw it as an oversight: not a relic spared from the destruction of the Order, but rather one forgotten and overlooked. For a moment, he wondered about the manner in which Andor must have met his end: cut down by the very same clones that had adored and respected him as a General only moments before. Such a sorrowful tragedy; such an affront to the way in which the Force was destined to flow.

"I became a Jedi Knight at the dawn of the Clone Wars, and I took a Padawan of my own shortly after. His name was Lúka Jibral, I taught him to the best of my ability, but if I am honest -" A twinge of regret sparked along the edge of Inyos' words. "- I failed him. We survived the initial stages of the Jedi Purge, and went on the run: but I was so fixated on the old ways, so unwilling to adapt, that I did not do enough to prepare him for the manner in which our status in the galaxy had changed. Lúka died heroically: gave his life to protect me and many other Jedi refugees from the Imperials pursuing us, giving us the opportunity to escape. It happened shortly before we first met, back on Nar Shaddaa, and -"

Inyos trailed off and glanced downwards, finding that his hands had nested together, resting gently between his knees. He forced himself to look in Saidra's direction; to look into his prospective apprentice's eyes.

"These last days, I have begun to wonder if perhaps the Force brought us together intentionally, and I was simply too closed-minded to understand the signs. Or perhaps the Force's intention was simply to acquaint us with each other, waiting instead for this moment now. I may not have been able to prepare my last Padawan to live in a galaxy in the state that ours had taken; but those are skills you already possess. Perhaps what I can offer you is wisdom and guidance that might otherwise become lost if it is not shared; and in turn, perhaps your own strengths will rub off upon me, and help me to understand my new place in all this."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Kinda sounded like some sort of fairy tale, laughable fiction until you went and realized it was actually somebody's life. She weren't sure whether to feel foolish or sad for not knowin' though. It weren't like it was knowledge she'd done gone and sought out but Sadie knew enough about the Jedi to know that at some point in their fairly recent history they'd practically been wiped out; wouldn't surprise her none if a lot of their ways and knowledge and the like were knocked off the map too.

As much as stuff he was sayin' shoulda been sad, Sadie couldn't help but see that small smile on Inyos' face as he talked 'bout days gone by. Was a downright shame that the verse had messed up people like this, turnin' them into an enemy for much of the verse. She was pretty sure that like most groups of folks there were probably less agreeable ones than him, but it kinda seemed a crime and a half that more people out there just didn't believe in tryin' to be good. Not that she was one to talk. Good weren't one of those words Sadie figured really applied to the likes of her.

His sort of loss was a complete unknown to her too. Not that there weren't folks in the verse she cared about that hurt when they were gone, but leavin' and such was a far cry from watchin' 'em die. The lesson weren't a total loss on her, though. To Inyos the whole Padawan thing meant somethin' other than just Person I'm teachin'. There was a bond of trust and the like. And that's what he'd called her. This weren't just some simple Jedi mentor sort of deal, at least not to Inyos. She'd kinda taken that for granted.

Sadie glanced back towards the Tide, Vitt was probably inside and she still felt remnants of her earlier agitation. Was a damn nice idea to just go and have a beer and unload but maybe there was somethin' to this whole Will of the Force thing. Maybe there was a damn reason Inyos was lurkin' round the hangar just when she came in needin' to vent. She still weren't ready to gripe 'bout Vhiran and him leavin' and it bein' cause of Atton on account of 'Ran's love of the bosslady - but was kinda nice lettin' someone else talk.

"A'right, guess that sounds shiny. Ain't too keen on lettin' the verse make decisions for me but if it ain't The Force then it's been someone else so who the frak am I t' argue anymore, yeah? Padawan it is." She tried to offer one of them reasurrin' smiles but was sure it fell short. "So, y' became one of them Knights at the beginnin' of the Clone Wars? Damn. That was like... a frakton of years ago, weren't it?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos wasn't entirely sure what unit of measurement a frakton represented, but he made the easy assumption that it was a large quantity, and understood the assertion that Saidra was making. That was something else that Inyos found hard to remember: that for many of the people that he encountered, the Clone Wars was a distant piece of history, either from early childhood or before they were even born. Thirty years had passed, near enough; and somehow that time occupied a paradox, feeling like an eternity one moment, and a blink of an eye the next.

Establishing a perspective on history was hard for Inyos. While he had endured the years on Ord Ithil, they had not aged him. He knew in his mind that a decade had passed, simple calculus based on the year he had travelled there, and the year of his rescue; but a decade was too much time to fathom. A decade was the difference between Younglings and Knights; a whole swathe of people progressing from infancy to the border of adulthood. Had his first Padawan survived, he would be a man by now, older than Saidra even; yet he still thought of him as a child, still thought of his death as a recent event.

For a moment he wondered just how old Saidra really was. She had been just a child that blink of an eye ago, but with all the time that had passed, it was hard to be sure. Not a question that most women responded favourably to being asked either, he had discovered the hard way: Inyos' efforts to determine whether or not Miss Shadowstar had been alive before the Clone Wars had not gone over well.

Carefully he adjusted his expression, a subtle quirk of his eyebrow cast towards Saidra.

"I'm not that old," he offered, the hint of defensive that crept into his tone not entirely voluntary. His eyes narrowed, as another notion occurred. "How old do you think I am?"

[Sadie K'Vesh]

His question got a smile out of her, vergin' on impish but she couldn't quite get that far past her own actual emotions. She considered for a bit answerin' somethin' downright mean. A hundred? That hint of naiveness that made Inyos endearin' also made him one hell of a target for pickin' on. They weren't that close yet, though. Maybe after they helped each other from fallin' on their faces a few times.

"I dunno," couldn't help that bit of defensive tone she borrowed from him. "Forty, maybe?"

She cringed as if it were an insult. Sadie weren't good at this sort of thing. Frak, she barely could figure out when she had been born. A guess or two could be shot at it based on some known facts and tidbits but closest she probably got was within a few years, never mind day or season or anythin' like that. Inyos had talked about when Jedi used to take young kids and start teachin 'em. She wondered if half of them knew when they were born, either. The Jedi didn't seem like the kind for cake and juice on your name day.

"Late... thirties?" Sadie gave it another go before she could even register any sort of reaction to her first guess.

Then her head was runnin' away and she was tryin' to figure out how old the rest of the folks she knew were. Bosslady carried herself strange like she could be some sort of university age or one of those magic folk who were well into their forties but didn't look a damn bit like it. Vitt she didn't even try and figure out. Nen had to be like her age, yeah? Yeah, that sounded right.

"But that... that can't be right."