One Big Ol' Rescue - Again.

[Elira Asael]

Dead.

Elira had always known it was a possibility, the Empire had been hunting the Jedi to extinction when she knew the two peacekeepers. Dead, though? She had taken a certain amount of responsibility for them when she had chosen to give them save harbour and while Elira was fairly certain there was nothing that could have prevented the death of the man, she still felt it's bitterness despite the ages of separation. A son, though? That meant there must have been good years somewhere between. Good for him. Mandan deserved that sort of happiness granted to him after all the infectious optimism he had spread around the Maelibus' crew.

"I'm... well, I'm not glad to hear it, but it's good to know he had someone. For a time at least."

The Captain found her view drifting again, away from Inyos who seemed pained by the loss of his friend. How long ago had this happened? Did that have something to do with Inyos' agelessness?

"What about you?" Her head remained determined to keep her attention elsewhere but her eyes had other ideas as they slowly moved to lock back to the Jedi. "You ever... settle down like that?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

"No."

The statement was immediate. Stern. Absolute. The reason was less definitive; or less easy to articulate, at least. There were so many factors, so many reasons why Inyos had never felt safe enough or at home enough to ever let himself get close enough to anyone; to ever let anyone in. Anyone else, that is. Because there it was, the real underlying reason. Just once, in all his years, Inyos might have found it. Might have. But he'd left. Walked away. Run away, even; perhaps that had been what it was. Back then, the prospect of feeling, or falling, had scared him: and that fear scared him further. Not very Jedi-like. Against the Code.

A Jedi shall not know anger, nor hate, nor love.

Since then, he had changed. The old ways were further in the past, and they held less sway over him. The very nature of the Jedi had changed. The Knights of yore had shunned all attachments, rejected all possessions; those of now clung furiously to them, cherishing every relic, clawing for every scrap of what they needed to survive. Among them, on the Wheel and on Ossus, Inyos had realised that his ways were obsolete - that he was obsolete. He was learning, trying, struggling to change. Struggling to achieve what Mandan had found: peace; attachment; happiness; love. But a simple fact hampered him, even after all these years:

There was only one Elira Asael in the galaxy; and she'd moved on without him.

"I never -"

He shook his head, struggling to look at her again. A second hand joined the first on the bed frame. Why not tell her? All this time spent nursing the regret of leaving, entertaining the possibility of different choices; but now, here, the very same fear as before gripped him, multiplied a hundred fold. A hand wrenched itself free, the other anchoring him to the railing as he moved one step closer; two; fear's grip around his chest squeezing tighter. His eyes fixated on her hand, resting on the sheets, just one more footstep away.

He stopped.

Saidra.

His eyes found hers, without restraint this time. They peered in, searching, questioning, reaching for an answer to the agonizing: why? Just beyond this room, Elira's daughter was waiting. She had spent a lifetime waiting: for a mother who wasn't there, for an explanation that was never given. Family had found her again, whether through blind luck or the will of the Force, or something else entirely; and here Inyos was, selfishly standing in the way of those answers. Sadness tugged at his brow, or perhaps it was just envy. The faintest whisper of an accusation danced on his lips.

"I was never lucky enough to have a family of my own."

[Elira Asael]

A flicker of confusion ran across her features, not so much at what he said, but how it came out. Surly he wasn't chiding her forher avoidance of Atton all these years, though that very well could have been it - not appreciating something you had and...

Oh you son of a bitch.

The thought wasn't meant for the man in front of her but rather the obvious culprit in question. Atton. He was behind this rescue, of that she was certain what with that whole next of kin thing the doctor had said. That meant Atton had told Inyos. Or maybe she was just jumping to conclusions. Either way, there was no denying it now, but how exactly could she tell Inyos? They had been close back in the day, too close, really, but even then she hadn't wanted to tell him about the spark of life she was responsible for abandoning.

A breath was taken long and slow, shaky on the intake.

If she was wrong about Atton revealing her secret to the Jedi, this would be the ruin of a perfectly good omission that was doing just fine being kept in the dark. On the other hand, if Inyos knew and she acted like she didn't...

"Inyos, about that..."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos wasn't sure where it came from: the swell of anger; indignation. Perhaps his encounter with Mal'achi - more mysteries surrounding the star-thief that had robbed him of his affections all those years ago - had shaken something loose, or perhaps Elira suddenly transformed in his mind, past memories set aside for a conversation between a Jedi Knight and the absentee mother of his Padawan.

"About that?" he echoed, his voice conveying all the impact of a shout despite remaining at the same barely above a whisper volume.

His hand abandoned the bed completely. The final places were closed in angry strides. Fingers dug into his palms, fists trying to retreat into the sleeves of his jacket. His head shook, seeking to dismiss as much of the ire as he could manage.

"About Saidra, you mean?"

Emotions tripped over themselves, derailing his tongue into a stuttering tumble of words, each vying to be uttered first.

"You, you, -"

He drew a breath; reached out for every scrap of calm from around him, hugging it closely to his chest with the Force. Why was he so angry? Why was he so eager to fight the battle that he knew - or feared - that Saidra would not fight for herself? He willed his voice back to it's usual tone, save for the odd sharpened edge of the odd cutting word.

"You had a daughter. Have a daughter. A daughter who, for the record, is beautiful and brilliant. Despite everything that you put her through, that you abandoned her to, she still smiles. She sings. She laughs. She loves. She is one hell of a slicer, I'm told; and she's formidable too. Bright. Quick. We've only trained together for a few months, but she is a natural. She has so much potential, and you would be proud of her. Should be proud of her. Except you can't be, because you handed her off to your Force-damned brother because, what, she was the result of some spacer hook-up in a seedy starport somewhere, and you just didn't give a damn?"

Inyos' jaw clenched, the anger beginning to rear it's head once more.

"She wound up on Nar Shaddaa, Elira. Living on the streets. I don't even know half of what she got caught up in. But what I do know is that she needed rescuing, by the same people who rescued you; and from what I've glimpsed of the scars, she was treated a hell of a lot worse than you were. But then, I guess that's what happened when you're tortured by Mal'achi Ath-Thu'ban, is not only still alive, but is also apparently your Jedi Knight elder brother who you never mentioned in all the time I knew you."

Fatigue set in. Inyos' fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"Force sakes, Elira. You had a daughter all that time, and I never even knew. You're worse than Atton. What else did you never tell me?"

[Elira Asael]

There had only been one other time in her remembrance of Inyos that she had seen him lose control like this. The word Padawan stuck out then like it did now, only then it had been on the eve of Inyos losing one. The normally stoic Jedi had been visibly upset then as well and she had invited him back to her quarters for a few drinks. Comforting and over due emotions had taken over then, but Elira doubted very much this would end in the same way.

His accusations twisted into her far more than the blades of an Imperial minion had and she continually found herself trying desperately to bring voice to rebuttals to what he was saying. Her brother for instance; Elira hadn't even known he was still alive until a few days ago and as for Inyos not knowing about him being an ex-Jedi Knight... well, she had made mention of a Jedi sibling once hadn't she? True it had come with a "I don't really want to talk about it" catch, but it was there. Everything else? Well, if he had bothered staying he would have known! They would have talked about it eventually, would have had to!

To hear him speak of her daughter - Saidra - though? The decision to leave her daughter behind had been difficult, one of the absolute hardest to make in her life. But with the girl's father out of the picture and Elira still doing smuggling runs in the early stages of the Empire's reign? Nar Shaddaa or not, she was better off. The Maelibus was no place for an infant!

What else she was hiding from him? How about the fact that it had hurt to let him and Mandan leave? How about the fact that she had spent way too many nights afterwards with too many drinks mourning the loss of the only man she'd actually felt any damn feelings for. How about...

"She's YOURS, Inyos."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

It weren't the loud voices that had drawn her in, that had started after she'd been lingering just outside the doorway for a spell. The soft tones of Elira and Inyos talking wasn't something she wanted to go and muck up, but apparently fate had deemed it necessary for it to go and happen anyhow. Not so much fate, really, as apparently the Jedi getting right ornery 'bout decisions that the smuggler had made when it came to her kid. Sadie should have known that was gonna happen eventually, though she'd pegged Atton to be the one to lay out the guilt trip itinerary.

At first she kinda smiled a bit, not a whole lot, but hearing her Jedi - Master was it? - talk about her, come to her aid sort of thing; well... was hard not to go and feel appreciated for that. But things kept going and voices got heated and then...

Well then Elira had set off a damn bomb just as Sadie had gone to lean against the door jam and wait for a moment to tell Inyos to go and let it rest a bit.

Yours.

As in...

Sadie went and made her presence known by not exactly leaning against the jam like she'd expected but rather drew in a sharp intake a breath and lost her gorram balance. It went and sent her stumbling into the room like fate itself was damn near shoving her and she found herself staring wide-eyed at the both of them, lingering from one to the next. Her parents. Both of 'em.

"Y...y're m' dad...?"

She knew the news was probably as downright shocking to him as it was to her but that's how it came out. Was said quiet like too, as if there was something she'd gone and missed and what she actually heard was the end of something else and there weren't no way that the verse was doing this to her.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Apparently the cannon had a second salvo, potent enough to blast his heart clean out of his chest and onto the wall behind him.

She's yours, Inyos.

It didn't make sense. Surely it didn't make sense? Surely Sadie was not young enough. Surely he and Elira had not been that long ago. How long had he spent on Ord Ithil? How many years lost? Had so much time really passed? Was he really that old? And yet the more Inyos stood and contemplated, the more things began to make sense. The more he searched his feelings, the more he knew it to be true. The Force had as much as told him, if he'd been receptive enough to listen: it had guided him to her on Nar Shaddaa all these years ago; and then lured him clear across the galaxy to reunite them once again. Master and Padawan. Father and Daughter.

"I -"

Elira was forgotten. Cloud City was forgotten. The entire cosmos was forgotten. Inyos turned, the shining beacon of his own child the only thing upon which he could focus. He could see it now: the resemblance, written all over her face. Elira's brows, but his eyes. The same sadness behind them, and the same glimmer of hope. Something cracked within him, the opaque barrier that held his humanity at bay pierced by a spiderweb of emotion and feeling - too much. Too many to process. Too many to name. In stunned silence he stood, and so too did Saidra - Sadie; she prefers being called Sadie - waiting for him to utter some kind of response. The only words he could muster came forth.

"Sadie, I am so sorry."

A lump formed in his throat. Moisture glistened across his eyes.

"I didn't know."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Instinct was telling - no, outright frakking screaming it's bloody head off - her to run. To turn right around and just go find her bunk on the Tide and tug the covers so over her that she'd be nothing but a ball of blankets and whatever sort of human she was. Maybe Vitt could come pry her out in a few days if he brought junk food. That was, if she didn't go straight on past the ship and head to the farthest star cluster one could think of. She'd tried that before though, many a time, though it'd only taken once for her to learn that sort of dren wasn't gonna stick round these parts. Bunk might still work, though.

That weren't her anymore, though. Or, at least, it weren't the her that Sadie had kinda vowed to herself she wasn't gonna go and be no mores.

Elira - her mother - weren't exactly forgotten or ignored, but she hadn't even met the lady, really. Inyos though? She'd only thought of him as the Jedi who had once stumbled across her path only to go and have it happen again - well, at first that's what she thought of him as. Nowadays he was her mentor, but more than that, she'd gone and trusted him fully for all sorts of inexplicable reasons.

Guess they weren't so inexplicable no mores. It weren't like Sadie really believed that this sort of thing could be known without knowing or anything of that sort, but she was coming to realize that The Force really did kinda have a will of it's own sort of deal.

"I know," was all Sadie could offer by means of relating. "A-ain't y'r fault, yeah? Jus' one o' them things..."

Saying the steps she took that further tucked her into the room were reluctant was one giant frakking understatement and Sadie weren't quite sure where she got the willpower to go and do it. She weren't the type for all sorts of emotional public displays of affection sort of stuff, Vitt was about the only one that she got away with that with and even that was on the barest when others were about. Felt awkward just standing about, though, even if she shoved her hands in her pockets and tried not to go and look like a nerf trapped in a spotlight.

"It's..." Sadie wanted to say okay or something else comforting of that sort but it just weren't coming.

Truth was, she wasn't sure it was okay. She may have been holding it all right on the outside but on the inside she was a damn near tempest. Slowly one of the hands left the not-really-comforting space of her pocket and reached out and gently placed itself on Inyos' arm. It weren't enough though, Sadie knew that. A hard swallow was followed by her closing her eyes as she went and tried her damnedest to get everything up there to shut the frak up. Inyos hadn't really had a whole lot of time to go and teach her much with the whole Force thing, but they'd been spending a bit of time on giving her the go on quieting things down when it got crazy up there. That came first, then came another lesson he'd gone and taught her. She weren't sure how good it was but as she reopened her eyes and looked back at him she tried that whole intention of sendin' calm to another person thing. Inyos did it almost pretty damn effortlessly on her all the time, now seemed like it might be a good time to go and return the favor.

[Inyos Aamoran]

He felt her mind brush against his. Not the first time; but it was different. This wasn't his Padawan reaching out. This wasn't a practice attempt or a training session. This was his daughter, reaching out to convey what words could not.

To Inyos, it was everything. A split second of clarity, and understanding. Emotions had always been such a mystery, even with the Force to help him sense them; but not now. They whispered from Sadie's mind, by accident more than likely; and Inyos knew. Not a guess. Not an estimation. He knew how she felt. He felt it too: not just borrowed emotions, but feelings mirrored in himself as well. The confusion. The shock. The worry, that things might now change. The desperate need for them not to; the comfort that came from things as they were. The flicker of anger and hurt, paired with the guild for feeling it even when their minds told them they shouldn't. The two of them, so different and yet so alike.

Silently, Inyos reached out as well, placing a hand on Sadie's shoulder, completing the link and sharing wilfully what Sadie had accidentally shared.

I feel the same.

He showed her. Let his emotions leak - gently - into her mind. He added a few of his own specific fears; a flicker of the guilt he had been feeling these last months, for not rescuing her from Nar Shaddaa so long ago; but quickly they faded, evaporated like a puddle in Chandrilan sun, the deep and intense happiness that radiated from his core taking it's place. It spread from his mind to his lips, a subtle but genuine smile taking the grim edge from his features. To Sadie he conveyed memories of their training sessions together; a sense of how pleased he had been with her progress; a sense of how that was suddenly deepened by the knowledge of who she truly was.

You are my daughter.

His hand strayed from her shoulder, reaching hesitantly to brush a strand of hair away from her face, encouraging her gaze to meet his. His eyes softened, all the same emotions that he had shared playing out across his brow. The embrace of minds continued a moment longer however, and the smile grew a little more.

I could not be more proud.

With that, the connection faded; not gone completely, but diminishing to a background warmth. Nothing would be shared between them, save for the exact sense of calm that Sadie had set out to convey; although perhaps with a new kind of warmth that had been there before. Inyos knew there was more to say, a longer conversation to be had; but there was a more pressing one, not urgent per se, but Inyos had felt the anxious curiosity in Sadie's mind. He took a step backwards, his hand once again finding Sadie's shoulder, guiding her a little closer to where Elira lay, no doubt deeply confused about what unspoken moment had just transpired.

"Saidra, this -"

This is your mother, was the statement that immediately came to mind, but then Inyos made the fateful mistake of letting himself see Elira's eyes again. The guilt intensified itself, a fresh layer from mere moments ago adorning the surface. Of course Elira had not told him: he had been gone before she had even known. He'd never given her the chance. Nor had he given her the choice: he had left for his own reasons, and Elira had respected them. Nar Shaddaa then had been, what, a place for Saidra to hide? Sacrificing her child - their child - because of the dangers that Inyos' nature tracked in his wake? He may not have agreed with what Elira had done, but he could not fault it; had no right to. He should have been there. More than that: he should have been honest, instead of contributing to the endless cycle of truths withheld under the false pretence of protection.

Honestly then. He mustered his resolve. His eyes stayed firmly focused on Elira's.

"- the only woman I have ever loved."

[Elira Asael]

Elira felt like she was falling, an overwhelming shock of vertigo that almost was too much to handle. Her admission had been near enough to cause the medical sensors to start protesting but the kid being there? Her kid? Even if the girl hadn't said anything there would have been no mistaking who she was, not with Inyos standing right there to where the Captain could take a good hard look at the both of them. Hot on the trail of surprise came an overwhelming sense of guilt as the scene played out before her and all she could do was remain a stunned mute.

This happening, the three of them being in the same room, was something that Elira had never ever even in her wildest daydreams thought of. It was so outside of the scope of possibility that she never saw the purpose in bludgeoning herself with the what-ifs and all that would have made all of their lives dramatically different. There wasn't exactly tension in the room, but rather it felt like she was baring witness to two people shuffling around in the aftermath of a war zone - one she had caused; all in the name of The Greater Good.

She should have had more faith in them, though. Resilience was one of the traits that Elira had learned Inyos had an abundance of, herself too to some extent; and if Saidra's life had been half as difficult as Inyos had made it sound, apparently that was something that got passed along. A quiet exchange happened, some sort of mutual understanding between Padawan and Master, Daughter and Father, and just like that the galaxy wasn't spinning out of control anymore. Oh, it certainly wasn't exactly right, and Elira knew they all had a lot of steps to make to make it so but then...

"...I have ever loved."

The bottom fell out of her stomach and a casual brush off of Inyos just being a bit too sweet on her and not knowing what he was saying was toyed with but he had never been the kind to overstate things. By way of introduction and admittance it was certainly unconventional but it suited him so well, suited them.

What was there that she could say, though? The matching pairs of waiting blue eyes looking expectantly to her were wonderful and awful to see at the same time.

"I..." She began, wishing the doc had left behind a glass of water or something that could have taken the dryness from her throat. "I'm so sorry. Both of you."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie was really starting to wish the two of them would stop apologizing. Perk of being on her own for so long meant she had long ago come to terms with her lack of parents and all the possible reasons for it. Sure, there was always a might bit of curiosity surrounding their identities and all but that was just downright human nature, weren't it? Either way, she didn't feel like either one of them really had stuff to go and be all sorry for, but Sadie also knew that weren't the way the galaxy worked and guilt was one hell of a thing that could go and downright ruin a life if let to fester. Like it or not, she was gonna have to let her 'rents work this out on their own time and come along for the ride.

At least they weren't yelling at one another no more. Truth was, thanks to what Inyos said and the way that Elira was obviously attempting to ignore the fact her face had gone all sorts of shades of red, Sadie was feeling like she might have to let them have some sort of alone time. Good, meant she could go find her Uncle and smack him upside the head - there was no way in the verse that Atton didn't know 'bout her and Inyos.

"It's-it's fine, really." Lack of knowing exactly what to say her was edging on her nerves a bit.

That whole trick with The Force with Inyos had gone and settled things on their end but weren't like she could probably do the same with Elira. This weren't gonna get fixed all nice and easy but well... it had been Sadie's idea to go get her in the first place.

"Got time t' figure this all out. Y'know, when we're not all... here."

[Inyos Aamoran]

There was something about Sadie, whispering at the edges of Inyos' mind. An urge to leave, perhaps. A sense that there were things that needed to happen without her.

No.

Inyos had never felt anything so resolute in his life. It wasn't an urge to run away like those he knew Sadie had felt before; or at least, not an urge to run far. Even so, Inyos would sooner have torn off a limb than let her leave. Not yet. Not when the reality had barely even set in. Not when a family - a real family; not some approximation or similarity - had sprung itself upon him. Not when that family was Saidra. Not when it was Elira. No. Stay.

Please.

Inyos glanced behind him, barely even taking note of the two chairs pushed against the wall before the Force began to draw them silently across the room towards Elira's bed. The one for Sadie arrived first. His Padawan. His daughter. He gently encouraged her into it, easing his own chair a fraction closer, trying to manoeuvre his new family into as small a space as possible, perhaps hoping that they might compress into a singularity that could never be untangled. A hand settled on Sadie's shoulder again: not the one closest, but the one further away; a strange, vague, awkward approximation of a hug from a man who'd never had to convey such a sentiment before. A moment passed before he realised the other hand had settled atop Elira's; he didn't remember doing that, but even the gravitational force of a black hole would not be enough to compel him to move.

"I -"

What did he say? He was the father of this family. That was how it worked, wasn't it? He should say something. He should do something. Bring them together. Start a conversation. Something. Anything. But there was nothing. Inyos delved into his mind, and all he found was an empty void where understanding should have been. He was not built for this. He did not understand this. He had never experienced anything remotely like this.

But then, which of them had? Inyos had no experience of being a father; but Elira had none of being a mother; and Saidra had never been a daughter. They were all lost, all equally lost, all equally knew to this strange and confusing concept that none of them had been able to prepare for. But they would do what they always did. They would adapt, and survive: a trait that Inyos knew the three of them all shared. They would muddle through, find a way, forge a version that worked best for them; just as he and Sadie had done as Padawan and Knight.

He let out a breath; it might almost have been a laugh, but such things were rare from Inyos Aamoran which made a frame of reference illusive.

"Did I ever tell you about the time your mother got me arrested?"

[Atton Kira]

* * *

Atton was in hiding.

Frustration had driven him from the clinic's waiting area the first time. Frustration he could cope with. That was an emotion he understood well. You could channel it, focus it, wield it like a lightsaber to carve through the problems in your path. Atton flourished in the face of frustration. Relished in it. It had essentially become his default setting: with a life like his, frustration was always eagerly awaiting you, close at hand.

Something else had driven him away the second time, though. Caf in hand, he'd returned to the clinic; and he'd heard it. Three familiar voices. Together. Talking. He'd watched it from across the waiting area for a moment, framed by the doorway into Elira's room. Saidra K'Vesh and her parents. Elira and Inyos, hand in hand, only a lifetime late. Perhaps he should have waited. Lurked in the doorway. Took a chance at the possibility of being invited in. They were, after all, his family. But he knew better. He knew the galaxy well enough to know that unity required an equation to be balanced; for people to be pushed together, something had to push them away. Sometimes unity was found in the face of adversity; but Atton was not naive enough to hope for that here. He knew his role in all this: the man with the secrets, the man who nudged and misguided people onto the paths he felt was right.

And so he left, driven away by a cocktail of emotions that left a bitter aftertaste. A few shots of happiness, a cup of remorse, a single pump of regret, and about half a litre of assorted guilt. He'd tried to walk it off; clear his head; leave those feelings in his wake. Instead, he found himself here.

Slumped over the bar at Elysium, Atton popped the seal on the whiskey he'd retrieved from behind it. A few hours had passed, and evening was approaching. As yet, Elysium's doors remained closed, but preparations were underway, the army of employees - well, more of a modest platoon; no need to go overboard with staff costs - going through the practised motions of rearranging furniture, refilling water dispensers, recharging light sources, and generally preparing the venue for it's impending influx of patrons. He'd have to move soon, and he would - retreat down to the Underworld, most likely. He smiled a bitter smile at that nickname, and how apt it felt. The dichotomy was like something out of a thousand myths from a thousand different worlds: Emelie Shadowstar, Queen of the Clouds, ruling the cosmos from on high; and Atton Kira, Lord of the Underworld, ensuring that the mechanisms of destiny continued to operate the way that was intended.

He downed his first shot in a single mouthful, wincing a little as the alcohol burned gently across his throat. The next few were downed more slowly, but not by much. Counting quickly fell by the wayside. A recharged class was held in his fingers for intense consideration, before he reached across the bar for a cocktail umbrella, adding a whimsical splash of colour to what he hoped would be his mind's antidote. The glass proved too large, paper parasol falling awkwardly into the whiskey. Atton fished it free, and tossed it away behind the bar with a grunt.

"To family," he muttered, to no one in particular, before tipping the drink awkwardly down his throat.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Right proper pain in the arse, ain't they?"

The voice had started behind Atton and moved to the side as Sadie had leaned against the bar and reached for the bottle Atton had been slowly emptying. Unlike her uncle, though, Sadie took a drink straight from the bottle - Whatever, it weren't like this one were for clients anyhow. A few beats were let to fall before she looked over at him from where she'd gone and fixed her stare firmly on the weird gear mural back behind the bar.

"Y' knew." Weren't a question, they both were better than that. "An' y' still let us go an' get 'er knowin' we was gonna find out. Not sure if y're suicidal, Unc or jus' crazy. Think Inyos is too gorram happy t' go an' realize y' could'a said somethin' all this time."

Sadie went and took another drink from the whiskey. She was probably committing some sort of atrocity by not putting it in a glass but she'd never been one to put on such airs. Instead she took a pause and refilled Atton's glass, just about enough for a double.

"Me though? I put things t'gether all right quick. Guessin' I get that from you a bit." Her voice weren't exactly angry, not even really frustrated, just tired. Been a long damn day, after all.

"Part of th' secrets y' promised 'er though, yeah?" The bottle of hooch was raised in mock toast. "Good on y'. Don't know many that could'a held on t' somethin' that was probably eatin' 'em alive."

Before Atton could respond Sadie went on, not really accusatory, but just one of them things that had to be asked.

"Was eatin' at y', yeah? Don't go an' tell me keepin' us from knowin' was all easy for y'. I know y' ain't heartless."

[Atton Kira]

Atton huffed out a near silent laugh, brandishing his whiskey glass in her direction.

"Does it look like it was easy?"

He sighed. She was right, he'd known that rescuing Elira would be the final impact that shattered the carefully constructed house of other people's secrets that he had built. The structure had been crumbling for a while now, but Atton had managed to reap at least a few benefits from it; the most notable of them was sitting right beside him. That had been part of his fear and reluctance in letting the Exchange rescue Elira: fear that he might lose Sadie if anything went wrong; and fear that he might lose her anyway even if they succeeded. All this time, he had worked so hard to keep things compartmentalised. He was careful to ensure that the strands and streams of people's lives didn't cross with each other; careful not to let one set of secrets contaminate another. He had other assets he could have called upon to rescue Elira, given time: but as soon as Saidra and Inyos had known, he'd known the end was coming. A shame he hadn't prepared for it better.

"Your parents are idiots, by the way."

He plucked the bottle from Sadie's hand, dumping enough whiskey in his glass to keep him going for a good long while. It swilled around as he thought, staring off into the gear mechanisms behind the bar as if they were a portal into the past.

"When your father came aboard the Maelibus, he had a partner, and a Padawan. Mandan Hidatsa, and Lúka Jibral. They'd been on the run for a while and, well -" Another faint, slightly bittersweet breath of laughter escaped. "- your mother and I, we had a brother, Mal'achi, who was a Jedi. He'd died, or so we thought, and it left us with a soft spot. We saw three Jedi in need, and took them in. Harboured them in exchange for their help."

The words came easily; easier than Atton had expected they ever could. He'd spent so long guarding secrets, so long resisting the urge to be open and honest, that he hadn't realised he was even still capable.

"Your father was an uptight ass back then," he said with a chuckle, "And your mother had a field day. He used to quote all these dusty old Jedi proverbs, and one day he made the mistake of quoting something that had been written by one of our distant Alderaani ancestors." He gestured with his glass, making it clear that our included Saidra: a tiny flicker of the long legacy she now found herself part of. "Count Ra's Ath-Thu'ban. Smart guy, but not all that wise: made a name for himself recording the wisdom of others, rather than possessing any of his own. Elira thought it fit your father to a tee, so every time he opened his mouth and she wanted it shut, she called him Ra's."

Atton grunted, a sip of whiskey taken.

"She probably could've just kissed him and had the same effect. Your father was sweet on her long before he ever realised it, and your mother worked hard at convincing herself that she wasn't capable of getting attached."

A larger gulp of booze was taken, and Atton let silence fall, steeling himself for the sombre turn his recounted events were about to take.

"I don't remember how long the Jedi were with us, but I do remember how it ended. We followed up on a lead: refugees that supposedly escaped from one of the Jedi's other temples; the ones not on Coruscant. Younglings, mostly. A few sympathisers who were struggling to keep them safe. Turned out to be a trap, of course: a hunter squad of Senate Commandos, letting the refugees stay one step ahead of the Empire to lure any surviving Jedi out of the woodwork. It seems like a terrible plan, but if there's one thing you can rely on a Jedi to do, it's risk their lives trying to save people."

For a moment Atton hesitated, picking through the rubble of his house of secrets carefully. While most revelations were deserved, there were still some fragments of secrets that had value; mostly the bad kind, where the truth made this worse rather than better. But Atton was tired; too tired to hold back; too tired to withhold from Saidra any more. He could evade, conceal, keep the last few facts close to his chest; but how many more of these revelations could Saidra withstand? How many more could he survive? Better she know; better to demolish it all and rebuild on flat foundations than try to balance a precarious life atop unexploded mines.

"Your father's first Padawan, Lúka Jibral, was killed trying to buy time for us and the refugees to escape. I found the mission report years later. A man named Hugo Montegue took the shot; though I'm sure his son has no idea. Your father doesn't either; though considering that Hugo Montegue helped rescue him from Ord Ithil, I imagine he'd feel quite conflicted if he knew the truth."

Atton trailed off, setting the already three-quarters-empty glass on the bar with a soft thud. He turned on his stool, no longer hunching over his drink, or staring at the wall, but instead speaking to Saidra directly. There was something earnest in his eyes: an eagerness to confess, paired with a sadness, and a subtle desperation for forgiveness. On some worlds, it was believed that confessing your sins was the only path to redemption. Saidra would be old and grey and he'd be dead if he tried to list all of them; but his sins against her, and the secrets that he had withheld, at least he could earn some divine forgiveness by admitting those.

"Lúka's death broke your father. That mask he wears, the stoic Jedi who keeps his emotions at bay? That's all armour. It's all protection. After Lúka died, all the anger, fear, and sorrow shattered it completely. Elira was there for him, and, well -" A shrug. "That's when he became your father."

More sadness began to tug at Atton's features, a vestige of everything he'd felt back then, feelings he'd merely buried and never come to terms with, slowly rising back to the surface.

"But the fear didn't go away. Not for your father, and not for your mother. Inyos was afraid that the Empire had caught our scent; so the Jedi ran one way, and we ran the other. Inyos was long gone before your mother learned that she was pregnant, but the running never stopped, and the fear of what might happen to you if they somehow found out whose child you were?"

Atton shook his head, a sad smile forming.

"I didn't agree with it, but it was your mother's choice. She wanted you hidden; felt that was the safest thing for you. She thought that if you had no connection to her, to us, to Inyos, then the Empire might never find you. It was a terrible choice, but it was the best one she could make at the time. And so she asked me to hide you: from her, and from everyone. Made me promise to bury you beneath secrets so deep that no one would ever find you. But I -"

That sentence tripped him. It had been an important moment for Atton Kira. It had been the moment when he'd changed, and when he'd woven the first strands of what became an intricate web of secrets and information dealing. A whole empire of clandestine knowledge, grown from the seed of a niece he couldn't bear to lose track of, and a promise he couldn't bear to keep.

"I always hoped that things would change. I always hoped that your mother would one day want to find you. I always hoped that your father would resurface. I always hoped that somehow we'd find our way here. So I watched. I nudged. Not just you, but everyone. I scoured the galaxy for signs of your father, and when I learned he'd last been seen on Ord Ithil, I fed Hugo Montegue information about his wayward wife, in the hopes that they'd find him. I fed work to you, and to your mother in secret. I even tried to have you meet, tried to have your paths cross, hoping that you might recognise each other and it would seem like an accident. But it wasn't -" He grimaced. "It wasn't good enough. It didn't work."

He sighed, his eyes falling away.

"I lied about the data device I gave you. I didn't need to search for your mother, I knew exactly where she was: sitting at the helm of the same ship she's been flying since before you were born. But it felt wrong to just tell you. So I made the device. I gave you the means to find her, but only if you chose to; only if you worked at it. I'd hoped it would happen on your terms and not on -"

He waved a hand vaguely, not entirely sure who or what was calling the shots these days. Fate? The Force? Sarlacc, whoever the dren they were?

"I'm not good at honesty, Saidra." Sadness had driven every other emotion from Atton's features. "But honestly? I tried to do the best I could."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

It was one thing to go and hear bits and pieces of the whole thing, but there'd always been parts that bugged her, the missing tidbits that tied it all in and made it make proper sense. Now, though, even with the alcohol warming her up and making her feel a little fuzzy, Sadie got the full picture. There was something might impressive about the whole thing, about how Atton had done gone and coordinated everything, navigating through whatever random dren the verse decided to upchuck his way to keep things on the edge. Made things a bit more comfortable in her head too, yeah sure so The Force had a dirty hand in moving things along probably, but there was actually something comforting about a lot of the so-called coincidences they were all coming on being the results of some sort of machinations of a person trying to do something good rather than chalking it up to fate or some dren. Meant the bad stuff that happened was just accidents or unavoidable mishaps rather than the verse completely frakking with you and that was a lot more palatable as far as Sadie was concerned.

She could have gone and gotten right mad then, all things considered Sadie figured she had more than the right to, but she wasn't.

"Thanks," Sadie spoke softly after what seemed like far too long a silence between them. "For trying. Maybe not th' most sound or sensible way o' doin' stuff, y'know but... well, yeah took some time an' a whole heap of skrag but looks like y' did okay in th' end."

The near empty bottle of whiskey was snagged once again and Sadie brought it to her lips, pausing before taking another swig.

"Might even be how it's supposed t', y' know? Don't rightly know what kind of person I'd be like if things had been differen'. Yeah, maybe things wouldn't be so messed up but I wouldn't be me, savvy? Not th' same no how. Even jus' a year or so ago I weren't th' same I am now. An' yeah, there's stuff I'd sure as dren go an' change in m' past if I could but there's a whole heap more I think I'd want t' keep just th' same... scars 'n all."

Finally the drink came and the bottle was put back down, probably on the temporary given the way this was going. Sadie's face had gone through a whole heap of emotions and the showing of them, now though they softened from the look of troubled not-quite-confusion that'd been stuck for the better part of the day.

"Y' did good, Unc. May not seem that way right now, but... thing'll chill an' then I guess we all jus' see what happens next. Do mean all of us. Y' didn't get t' go an' pull strings all over th' place then not deal with th' end result."

[Atton Kira]

A man like Atton Kira didn't feel pride often. Satisfaction, perhaps, at a job well done or a galaxy-sprawling spy network well constructed; but not pride. It was odd that so many cultures branded the emotion a sin. Self pride perhaps; but this feeling? Pride towards another? The pride of an uncle, hearing wisdom tumble from the lips of his niece? There was nothing dark or shameful about that. Or perhaps there was: shame on him, for sitting here wallowing in the choices and actions of the past, when Sadie had gone and walked a far bleaker and more painful path and was sitting there, seemingly at peace with the valley of darkness she'd journeyed through. Here he was, bathing in his guilt as if it was all about him, and not the people whose lives he had affected.

Deal with the end result, she said. See what happens next, she said.

The smile that formed on Atton's features, though small, was utterly impossible to resist; even as the proudness and sadness tugged at his brows. The question Atton asked came out different than he expected: the paint on the jovial quip had not yet dried, the attempt to deflect away Atton's feelings cracking the surface, and letting something deeper and more sincere creep through?

"When did you go and get so wise?"

Retreating from it, fleeing from the accidental glimmer of emotional honesty, Atton arched a brow and looked away, grabbing for his drink again.

"You sure as hell didn't get it from the Ath-Thu'ban side of the family."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie caught that little bit of honest emotion that Atton let slip and she cracked a smile in return. This was the sort of thing she liked, cracking jokes and shooting the dren with someone at a bar. Been a while since that'd gone and happened and even if there was quite a lot more weight to what they was discussing than just whatever random crap decided to pour outta their heads, seemed like the right way to go and end a day too; at least this part of it. Fact it was with Atton also worked out shiny in her head. She weren't sure if this was the sort of normal thing that family of their type went and did but since when was anything about her damn family turning out to be normal?

With a bit of resignation she went and leaned over the bar, fingertips precariously snatching up a glass identical to the one in front of Atton and poured some of the remaining whiskey into it. As much as part of her wanted to go and get all three sheets and forget about this entire thing, it weren't for the best and Sadie knew it. Moderation, then. Sorta.

As she settled onto the bar stool next to Atton, the half upturn of her lips faded a bit. There was a thought that'd gone and occurred to her while he was telling her the entirety of the mess they'd all been involved in. Names in particular that were sticking out like sore bits where you'd gone and bit your tongue. Her dad's other Padawan, the one that died; more to the point - the one that killed him. The guy that'd then saved her dad from the planet that Inyos had sketched out the horrors about. Well, it weren't him that her thoughts were lingering on, nor was it how Hugo and her dad were associated but more their aftermaths, the ones that came next. A son and a daughter, apparently.

"Y' good if I ask y' somethin'?" She waited for her uncle to look her way before continuing, taking it for the go-ahead. "Vitt an' me..."

Sadie hated kinda putting them into any terms. They both knew how they felt 'bout one another and it sure as dren was genuine but still.

"That... us bein' us, I mean... that part of y're doin'?"

[Atton Kira]

Atton blinked, momentarily stunned by the question.

His face contorted, trying to hold something back; but it was impossible, irresistible. It began as a deep, almost wheezing chuckle, seeping in and out of his lungs, rolling it's way up his vocal chords until it finally found it's way within the threshold of human hearing. His modest smile had become a broad grin, brows knit together, shoulders shaking, face slowly turning read as the laughter continued on.

"You think -"

Atton struggled for breath, a wrist rising to his face, wiping the moisture that had begun to leak from his eyes. A deep, gasping, sighing breath was drawn into his lungs as he tried to bring his body back under control. He chanced another sip of whiskey, but his body wasn't quite ready for it; the warmth hit his throat and his lungs coughed and choked in momentary protest.

"You think that I, the master of overprotective meddling, would engineer things so you wound up with a man like him?"

He shook his head, the laughter still not fully subsiding, drowning his voice in mirth. It was unfair, he knew. He could see in Sadie's eyes that the concern was genuine; could see that his answer mattered; and here he was laughing it off like it was the best punchline he'd heard all century.

"Sadie, Sadie -"

He struggled his way back under control. Normalcy didn't resume, the mask of propriety didn't settle back into place. Perhaps for the first time, Sadie K'Vesh got the opportunity to glimpse her uncle as he truly was, rather than the carefully cultivated image that he put so much work into conveying.

"I promise you, Saidra Ath-Thu'ban, hand on heart -" He tried to pair a physical gesture with that statement, but ended up tapping himself in the chest with a whiskey glass instead. "- if I ever try to set you up with anyone, they will be: rich; harmless; and feeble enough that I'd be able to kick their ass in a fight if they ever did anything to hurt you."

The mirth faded: not gone, just settling down to a more subdued level, like a hound getting comfortable in front of a fireplace. He set the glass down once more, and turned on his stool to face Sadie fully. With no prompting at all, sincerity took control of his voice: it became soft, and kind, clearly meant for her and her alone to hear.

"Vittore Montegue is the sort of man that I wouldn't let within twelve parsecs of you. Every time he takes you away on one of his bounty adventures, I worry, and I wait here on Cloud City plotting the excruciating ways that I will make him suffer if he ever lets anything happen to you. But he has done right by this family, and right by you, countless times over. If that look in your eyes means what it surely means? He is a lucky man, and I am happy for the both of you."

Atton's warm smile faltered ever so slightly.

And if I'm being honest? Probably a little jealous of you both as well.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Saidra didn't personally think it was all that funny, but she had asked. Kinda felt rightly foolish about it now when he went and put it that way. After all, thinking that Atton had seen fit to play matchmaker betwitx her and the guy who stole his frakkin' ship an' droid was a bit of a stretch. Still, it had to be in the clear for her own peace of mind. Not that it probably would have changed stuff even if her uncle had admitted to nudging the two of them together for some reason; it was comments like the whole look in your eyes dren that pointed out how damn near obvious it had been to everyone in The Exchange except for the two idiots who were actually stupid for one another. Aw well, it was all out now and at least Atton hadn't used his wiles to try and pry them apart or nothing.

The way Atton's demeanor went and slumped a little there at the end caught her. She didn't feel bad for the guy, but there was something kinda melancholy about his situation. Inyos had Elira back - for whatever that was worth, but his little proclamation of love wasn't a loss on anyone. Sadie had Vittore, Em and Vhiran were whatever they were, and yeah sure it wasn't like Atton was the only non-paired folk of the bunch, but he was older. Guess keeping secrets and making deals all them years didn't exactly go in the way of making any sort of genuine friends or companions. Or maybe it had. For all the info that her uncle had on her, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot that Sadie actually knew 'bout him on the reverse. Maybe there had been people in the past.

That was just it though, if there were, Sadie was sure there wasn't in the nowadays. She'd never really considered how much of a lonely sort Atton may actually have been and right then and there it kinda got to her. Yeah, he got on folks' nerves and all but didn't mean he deserved to feel that way. It was a small attempt at amends, she supposed, when she went and reached out and kinda placed a hand on his.

"I know Family ain't much consolation for some things, but... y're not on your own anymore, y'know? Not really anyhow. Know it ain't th' same but jus' wanted t' kinda reiterate that. My 'rents actually bein' here don't change who y' are an' what y've done f' me. Don't change th' fact that I'd actually like t' know more about alla th' stuff y've got under y're wing an' all. Still pretty sure y' could teach me a thing or two."