Denominatorem

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Rhen var




It was not exactly a normal stop on the regular lines that her ship patrolled. In fact, it was a fair bit removed from the treaty border, giving one familiar with the rotations of Khera'Va'ss'io a bit of confusion. There were always slight deviations taken, but none so far inward as this unless it was a route past Ossus to ferry a Jedi. The more interior portions of Alliance space were seldom visited, and that usually meant that when they were, it was a requested deviation, ordered from those above in Alliance Command. It was something ordered, and something carried out without question. She was a captain by their good graces, and by their wishes. She did not offer resistance or cross words; it was not her place.

But now, cracking out of hyperspace over Rhen Var, the graceful, winged hulk of the Khera'Va'ss'io burst into realspace with a sharp peel of residual hyperlane thunder. The waspish capital ship moved forward with purpose toward the icy planet below. A tranquil sight to many. Rhen Var was more often than not a home to those wishing to leave behind the faster paced living. A home to those wanting a life free of clutter and maddening headache. It was a cold, frigid world, and those that came here knew that. They were ready to challenge the elements and surpass the hardships; to meet them head-on and thrive. It was a very particular brand of bountiful existence that one found here - something deeply personal and satisfying on a level that most had no interest in venturing to.

Rhen Var was a wild world still, with determined people making their way in life across its' surface.


On the bridge, s'Il sat in her chair, mismatched eyes watching the wide, panoramic viewscreen before her. She leaned to one side, an elbow supporting her weight on one of the armrests.

For a month now the Force had been whispering to her. It had been quietly insistent. It had called and she had answered.

Come to Rhen Var. Come to make peace.

And the more time went, the more those urging feelings had grown. What the Force willed, she could not deny, and the Lupine had made sure to clear her ship's course alterations through the command structures that needed such things. It was one of those small details that she could never, and probably would never, free herself from. But what she was feeling from the Force was a chance to make right a wrong that had been done. To find some amount of quiet in one of the many still-chaotic parts of her mind.

Shared commonality is at Rhen Var. Shared pain. Shared healing.

There would be no denying the will of the Force.

And Loklorien s'Ilancy held no wish to resist that will.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

This was probably going to be a bad decision. If there was one singular thing that Charlotte had learned to not give any trust to in recent days it was her own feelings - not intuition, that still served her well - but feelings, the emotions that still churned up from the depths every so often and made themselves known. It was anger most days, but for the last month there had been something else under it all, something Charlotte couldn't quite put a name to. Curiosity wasn't right, Hope was certainly right out, and yet...

There was a terrifying possibility that occurred to her eventually that the persistent need was being caused by an outside entity. She didn't much care what name you gave to it, what or whose Will you pinned in on, the Corellian wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. The sensation refused to be ignored, however, and slowly it had wormed it's way into her mind like an insidious tune she couldn't block out. Rhen Var. Of all the icy pieces of dren to feel drawn to, why there, why now? On the surface it reminded her of Nelvaan, cold, harsh... and filled with an uneasy sensation that she wanted to rip from the edges of her mind as violently as possible.

What if He was waiting for her there?

There was only one thing Charlotte had become certain of as the weeks went by and the feeling only drove itself deeper into her thoughts in both waking and the seldom unconscious moments - it wouldn't stop until she went to Rhen Var. Convincing herself to follow through with something so intangible was one thing, convincing her cohorts was far more difficult. Or, at least, it should have been. John had been easy to deal with, there was plenty on Cloud City to keep him busy and the fact they weren't exactly on the best of terms that week reduced the hassle. Xander was another matter entirely, though even he softened when it was determined he would accompany her to the planet if for no other reason than to make sure she came back with him. It wasn't ideal for any of them, but Charlotte had been firm on the necessity, even if she hadn't been able to answer any of the questions regarding what exactly she was doing. Good thing both the Major and her brother had learned how to understand when her meager grunts meant they weren't going to get any further information out of her and pushing wasn't going to change that.

As the Lost Cause left hyperspace and made preparations to enter Rhen Var's atmosphere all Charlotte could do was watch the planet appear with growing dislike for the mere sight of it. Safe away from the bridge and the lone pilot, she rested a hand against the view port in the makeshift mess area.

"Alright you bastard, I'm here. Now what in the seven hells do you want?" Charlotte mumbled accusingly.

As if the planet itself answered, she felt the same strange sensation that had been plaguing her rise up. While unease still accompanied it, it didn't carry the bitter sting of barely-checked rage that she was expecting. There was almost a promise to it, a gentle whisper that counteracted the writhing creature lurking somewhere in the back of her mind. Something was wait for her, but for good or bad was yet to be seen.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I still don't think this is a good idea."

"Yes, I am aware. You've been repeating to me that very same notion for the last few hours."

"Well it's cause I'm right."

Stopping at the threshold leading into the main hangar, s'Il pivoted so that she could face her executive officer fully. Samus Dage was frustrated, that was easy enough to see. His features were taught, the corners of his mouth drawn down in a scowl. With his shoulders squared back, the tall blonde cut an almost intimidating figure. Whenever he appeared as such, the Lupine simply remembered him in the hand-me-down flower dress that he'd donned after the mission to Akuria so long ago. Back then he had adamantly played the role of her 'Maid of Honor'. Whatever that was. Oh, she knew the significance of the role now, but in her mind's eye, the memory of him flouncing through the corridors of the Novgorod in that dress was enough to dispel any real anger at his reluctance to let her go down to the planet below relatively alone.

"Mr. Varin will make sure that I am safe during the trip to the planet."

Dage couldn't help but roll his eyes at that as the two finally crossed into the hangar.

"Well that fills me with confidence. Tell me Captain, where will he be when you're out there by yourself?"

"You worry like an old dewback nag, Samus. I will be fine."

"You do realize that most times you go out on your own, something happens, right? Either you come back with a few more holes than before, or you level a city block."

She pursed her lips at that, her gaze staying forward and settled on the old nu-class shuttle that awaited her. Out of habit, she tugged at the bottom hem of her uniform tunic to straighten out any wrinkles that might've formed. It was second nature now, and there was a certain level of comfort that she found in the blue-hued uniform she nearly always wore.

"I mean, you're not even taking your lightsaber."

Without looking at him, the Lupine nodded.

"I'm not."

Dage held out a small, flat container between them.

It didn't need to be said what it was, and s'Il took it gratefully.

"One on the way down, and one on the way back."

"I know when to take my medicine, Samus."

"Not when you've got that Force tunnel vision, you don't."





* * *



The trip to Rhen Var's surface was a quiet affair. Mr. Varin spoke only when he needed to, as he'd gotten a decent enough feel for his commanding officer early on. She was an odd sort, but not entirely bizarre. And as the nu-class shuttle descended through the clouds, he had made sure to keep the atmospheric buffeting as minimized as possible. He'd already had to clean up one offending accident after the second time he'd ferried her; no need to repeat that little disaster.

It was an old temple outpost that he took her to. She'd given the descriptions of it, and the coordinates, and he had followed her instructions to the letter. His landing on one of the uppermost platforms had been feather-light, the boarding ramp opening smoothly.

"You will wait here, yes?"

s'Il's voice carried up to his perch, and Varin gave a nod that he knew she couldn't see.

"If I don't, Commander Dage will keelhaul me, I suspect."

From below, she only made a face before pulling her fur-lined winter jacket closer around her. She hated the cold, but sometimes there were necessary discomforts that a person had to brave in order to find what they were meant to find. What cold-weather gear she had had been pulled from one of the shuttle's supply lockers - no doubt a precaution taken by both Samus and Varin. She was glad for their forward thinking.

Stepping out into the bitter cold, she couldn't help but realize that she'd left many variables untended; the will of the Force had apparently been strong enough to distract her from everyday needs. To the point that she just now realized she'd not eaten for two days.

The snowswept fortress that poked out of the white-covered mountainside was a tranquil scene, and the Lupine steeled herself. Hands shoving themselves into the pockets of her jacket, she let her booted feet take her from the platform to the adjoining antechamber tower which would take her further inside.

The call was growing, and her senses reached out to hopefully grasp at the suddenly poignant light that burst into her awareness. It remained elusive though, and while there was a feeling of trepidation overshadowing the new presence she felt so strongly, there was something else, too. Something that she could not quite place. It was familiar though, in a way that both puzzled and worried her.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Kriffing dren!" Charlotte cursed and watched the way the way her breath fogged with each syllable, as if the words themselves were freezing to death.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been this cold. Frozen worlds weren't an entire unknown to her, not by any means, but never had she been so ill equipped. Back with the Rebellion she was always supplied with proper gear that took the edge out of the biting low temperatures and made traversing through the snow not nearly the slog it was now. Her heaviest coat just wasn't cutting it, nor were the knit gloves that probably served better use during winter on Corellia and every-day boots that were a few cycles past needing to be replaced. If there was one thing that Charlotte was getting used to though, it was making due, and now wouldn't be any damn different.

With a begrudging look back to the Lost Cause and the warmth it offered, Charlotte pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck more before cupping her hands in front of her mouth, using her breath to keep both them and her face from feeling like they were going to immediately become frostbitten. She wasn't sure why, but somehow she knew she wouldn't be out in the cold long enough for it to become an issue. Though, the simple fact that her mind was so certain of that truth was far more unnerving than the actual possibility of injury.

Another stream of curses poured though her head as she continued on in a direction that she shouldn't have rightly had any inclination to go. No map had been poured over, no long list of fail safes, just the constant urge to go on.

Swear to the gods if I end up dead here, I'm having John reanimate my corpse just to come back and blow this place to the seven hells. Sad as it was, the bitter thoughts only encouraged her onward, a stubbornness that she was born with keeping her from giving up on the entire endeavor.

Payoff came quickly though in the form of a hulking shape that could only have been a building. Charlotte briefly considered breaking into a run for the promise of shelter, instead however, she continued her solemn trudge; it echoed the relentless feeling within her. There was more now that she was closer though, something... frak... was it familiar? That wasn't quite right as far as Charlotte was concerned. There wasn't enough negativity associated with it for anything or anyone who brought on those sort of feelings.

"R-really s-starting to hate this." She stuttered, words broken up by a shiver in her that was becoming a bit too persistent. "C-couldn't have gone someplace tropical, could you? No. H-had t-to come t-to this skragheap. Better be kriffing worth it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Gloved fingers traced lines along the stone walls as she descended a spiral staircase that sent her downward, inexorably pulling her deeper in the heart of the fortress. There were whisperings here; soft and otherworldly. Old and cracked with age. But each murmuring was clear enough, enticing and unable to be ignored. Each word spoke of so many years past, an invisible tapestry of words wove all around her that wrapped her in a strange feeling of comfort. The soft voices spoke of redemption and hope, and soothed the overtaxed nerves of minds weighed by the guilt of past actions. There was solace to be gained in this place, and s'Il allowed her own thoughts to become a part of the rich aether that inhabited this place. She took a measure of peace from the reassurances all around as they wove in and out of the stones themselves. She felt each word pierce through her being to relax the unseen and unknown tensions. It was strange, that in such an inhospitable place as this, that such calm could wash over everything and thrive.

Reaching the bottom, the Lupine hesitated for only a moment as another feeling cut into her awareness. It was...

... it was familiar in a strange sort of way. As though what she was feeling was by proxy. It was muted yet sharp all the same, and she frowned as her feelings tried to pick apart this presence that now blossomed.

But, her hesitation did not last long, and she started forward once more. Through a vaulted entryway and into the fortress proper. It seemed hollow and gutted, but there was enough signs that spoke of habitation - even if those signs were so very old and ancient. It reminded her of the old manor homes back home on Schwartzweld. She suspected that if she were to speak, her voice would echo. Lonely stone blocks and long-dead glowpanels. A long, bare hallway that lead to the unknown.

The unforgiving cold of Rhen Var reached its' icy fingers even in here, and s'Il couldn't help the involuntary action of pulling her jacket tighter. She could see her breath with each exhalation, and as she continued onward, the Lupine steadied her eyes to the barely-illuminated doorway far ahead.

The familiarity she had felt was tinged with an underlying anger and impatience; or was it simply frustration? She could not tell. All she knew was that there was a shared commonality in the thoughts and essence she was being drawn toward. The Force had deigned that a sort of peace would be found, but there were a myriad of interpretations to what 'peace' could mean. The Force was fickle and insistent, and could never be denied indefinitely. It usually got what it wanted from those who knew how to heed the call.

She was nearly to the darkened doorway at the end of the long hallway when the nagging familiarity coalesced into recognition. Her pace halted abruptly, and blinking furiously, s'Il pulled in a sharp, cold breath through her nose.

The overlying layers of something else had cast enough shadow over what lay in the center, but close enough now, there was no mistaking that ghostly scent of wicked existence.

Her old student did not materialize from the shadows around her; but then again, there was no way that he could. What she was feeling was a terrible thing to be sure, but it was not him.

Brow furrowing, she started forward once more, determined to discover what the Force had so insisted she make peace with.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte felt like she was being plucked at by unseen hands as she slowly moved through the abandoned facility and it took all her self discipline to not go swatting at the air like some lunatic. Not that Charles didn't feel like she probably fit that description some days, but today was not going to be one of them. It only got worse the further in she went, though she did have to admit that it felt more like soft attempts to soothe her rather than aggressive prodding. She still didn't like it, though.

It was only recent that Charlotte had begun to feel like maybe she wasn't entirely in control of her life, that everything that had happened to her simply wasn't cause and effect. There were people she had known who would have taken comfort in that, loved the out it provided and the lack of responsibility it placed on them. To Charlotte, however, it was maddening. She liked control, even if the odds were stacked so far against her that failure was practically a given, the thought that she could still choose had meant everything to her. Now it felt like that had been taken away and the person she had to thank for that - and so much more - was...

Was HERE.

The feeling stopped Charlotte dead in her tracks. She expected to suddenly fill the chill of the planet seep into her all the more keenly but rather she felt warm, no... that wasn't quite right. It was as if her blood had been replaced by molten lava and before she knew it her face tightened in a grimace and she was running. Not away, not this time. The closer she got, the more things changed, though. The familiarity didn't quite fade, nor did her rage at it, but it settled to the bottom. Another turn around a frozen corridor and the sprint slowed and she was almost to a crawl when she finally made the last turn into what once must have been a large auditorium of some nature.

Her feet stopped as her mind continued to race onward, her feelings too for that matter. She couldn't explain it, not entirely, but knew it had something to do with the damn Force and how it got away from her at times like these. Whatever - Whoever - it was that had drawn her to his place was just beyond and was heading towards her. The same question that had gnawed at her for a month now finally was voiced once more, not to the planet itself this time but to the entity just beyond her scope of vision.

"What do you want?!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

From the darkness she heard the voice. It echoed all throughout, careening off age-old walls on a wild path the cover as much ground as possible. Like an invisible force trying to cover everything, the question hung in the air long after it had faded back into silence. There was no need to answer, and s'Il found herself slowing her own pace as she approached an arching doorway that led to a cavernous auditorium. What little light could be had trickled down in shafts of illumination, ice and dust particles flitting about in full view before vanishing once more as they passed back into the dimness of the rest of the large room.

High vaulted ceilings stretched high above, but what was over her head concerned her about as much as the detritus crunching beneath her boots.

Two steps forward, and she passed through the doorway as though she was stepping into another world. She could feel him now... or the leftover traces of him. They were acute, yet faded all the same. It was a familiar scent, yet tainted by so much evil. But it was what surrounded that feeling that had taken her. It was a different sort of anger; it rippled through the void in a way that was so different. Resentment? The Force only showed her what it willed her to see, and the Lupine stood still just on the inside of the threshold. Like an immobile statue she stood, eyes staring across the expanse before her.

And across that expanse... it seemed like leagues apart, was another doorway and another body standing just inside.

Again the question sounded, though it was in her mind that she replayed those echoing words.

What do you want?!

What did she want? A long, slow breath out. She was here because it was what was wished of her. She was here at the behest of the Force to find some measure of peace from a guilt that she had buried so deeply. But, there was no real way to answer such a question with a simple reply of only a few words. No.

Instead, the Lupine answered in a strange, roundabout fashion that didn't really alleviate anything. It was a simple statement of fact, and as her voice rose, she felt those inner regrets that she had once pushed down begin to well up within her.

"He has touched you."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte wasn't sure why she felt thrown off by the appearance of the stranger. No, not stranger, she'd seen this woman somewhere but couldn't quite put her finger on it; it was hard to tell what was more annoying, that or the actual feeling of familiarity that was lurking somewhere within. If only she had a moment of actual peace she may have been able to work it out, but the sensations that had drawn her to this place to begin with felt like a howling wind all around her that buffeted at her to a point where it was difficult to even think straight.

When the other spoke, however, there was no question as to which He was being referred to. To hear it phrased so casually was enraging and Charlotte could feel the ragged edges of it tugging at her, numbing her to the strange calming effects that had been pleading with her since her arrival.

Touched her. Every bit of Charlotte screamed it out in another word. It hadn't merely been some meeting of the minds that had gone on. The man, the creature, had used her, violated her, scraped out what good there had lingered within her very soul and had chewed it up until there was nothing recognizable left. How dare this woman say it as if it had been a casual meeting for caff.

The crackle of energy danced around her fingertips, insidiously suggesting she reach out with it, lock on to this woman in Alliance uniform - the very image of those that had betrayed her and left her to rot - and make her pay for everything.

The younger of the women drew in a stuttered breath, no longer shaken by the cold but rather the barely contained monster that was always just under the surface, clawing it's way through her skin. The same gentle urges once more made their attempt on her and in her mind's eye it came in the careful and tentative touch against her brow that the Major had used not all that long ago. Still look pretty normal to me, his voice whispered at the edge of memory and Charlotte closed her eyes and prayed it still held true, that she had been looking out at the woman only moments before with her typical blue rather than the unnerving and sickly yellow they glazed over to when she lost control.

Another deep and struggled for intake of air and on the exhale she refocused on the other individual, her hands balling into fists as she tried to shrug off the darker instincts.

"Yeah," Charlotte spoke, barely above the breath of a whisper yet it carried across the empty space between them. "That's one way of putting it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The confirmation was as heartbreaking as it was already known, and s'Il found herself overwhelmed with an understanding of why the Force had brought her here. It was a reckoning, and a chance to amend the past all at once. Yet, the inner shame she felt was undeniable, and the elder Lupine bowed her head. Her eyes closed as she frowned. He terrible deeds had swept an innocent soul up into the maelstrom of hate, and it was the fault of no one but her. She was the sole cause, the reason for this now. She had struck into motion the series of horrific events that shattered more than just her own life. It was the burden of having cupped from the river of the Dark and taken deeply.

She did not answer; there was no need to do so in the face of the woman she was meant to meet.

Instead, she started forward. Slowly, one foot moving, then the other. It was not a shambling gait, nor was it hurried. It was exactly what it needed to be; a measured pace. It allowed her time to begin the first stages of a new regret. Oh, there were plenty such regrets that she now held in her life, but there was a wholly new tinge to this one. It was something apart from everything else. To be confronted so directly by a person unwillingly taken by one who had pledged his allegiance to her will... her old, twisted, and misguided will...

Her footsteps echoed all around, throughout the cavernous expanse of the auditorium. As though she was the only being on Rhen Var.

In the center, she stopped. A part of her could go no farther, as it would encroach on the other's space. Her eyes lifted then, their mismatched gaze reaching the other woman's.

"I... "

What was there that she could possibly say? What sort of comforting words could she possibly utter? The hard truth faced her as starkly as the cold all around.

Nothing. None.

And so her mouth clamped shut, and she stood there, in the middle of the auditorium. For the first time in a long while, the Lupine found herself at a loss for words.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte had barely contained the urge to match the woman step for step, instead holding her ground as if it was some sort of last bastion of self. It wasn't entirely that, however, it felt more like she was clinging to a righteous sense of being wronged and she wanted nothing to do with taking the necessary movement forward to get past it all. It was petty, selfish, and downright childish in a way but the former Rebel could care less. It was her burden to bare and no one else could make her put it down.

Her posture shifted slightly, hands releasing after her fingertips grazed where her nails had bitten into her palms before her arms took up the motion and folded themselves in front of her. She wasn't sure what the point was that the other woman was trying to make but she could feel it. Seven Hells could she feel it, taste it almost. The guilt was a never ending ribbon blended into whatever mess the planet itself had conjured up.

"You..." Charlotte echoed before taking another fogged breath. Silence stretched between them as the younger woman rolled her shoulders wavered once more, daring to step forward to close the chasm between them.

Understanding followed confusion, clearly etched across Charlotte's face.

"Him. You're responsible for him?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her head bowed, eyes both closing as she allowed the regret to wash over her. It was always a feeling that filled the pit of her stomach with a helpless, drifting knot. Shame at what her actions had caused spread outward from that tangle knot, and her hands came around to fold together in front of her. She was a statue now, with the dread knowledge that an answer had been demanded of her. But what words could she say? There was certainly no excuses for what she had done, and equally so there was no comfort that she could alone give. One half of the puzzle on Rhen Var, facing the other half that had been so wounded.

Like a statue she stood, letting those fingers of regret close around her. They seemed to show her everything that she had done to this woman, and even though she had not seen with her own eye the damage as it was caused, the result was enough to paint the clearest of pictures.

But...

... but the Force had brought her here. It had brought the both of them here. The reasons were becoming clearer now, though there was still enough confusion to send her mind to picking up the pieces. The Will of the Force would not be denied no matter the outcome, it seemed. And the Lupine would obey.

Another few moments, and she lifted now opened eyes up to settle fully on the woman.

"I was his teacher, for a time."

A long, slow inhale as she blinked, though the gaze still held strong.

"So... yes. I am responsible for him."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte eagerly devoured each word from the other woman, letting them sink deep within her, sending them tumbling into a pit of loathing that was already overflowing with blame. Yet somewhere in all that blind hatred, the logical and sensible part of her still existed. It was probably the only surviving piece of her that kept her truly alive rather than fully giving in to the walking husk she was becoming. It was the side of her that had been taught to evaluate before acting, to pinpoint the important parts. All in all, the parts of her that had made her successful and useful when an Infiltrator for the Rebellion. A Rebellion that was now an Alliance - an Alliance that had seen fit to leave her home world in the hands of the enemy.

But that was a wound to tend another day.

So, this woman had been her tormentor's teacher. Had been. When then? Charlotte was not so quick to judge that she fell into letting others guilt themselves for a previous pupil going wrong later in life, even if it would have been so easy to feed into another's guilt. Was that what had happened here? Or was this woman truly deserving to feel that wellspring of anguish that nearly consumed the still-insurgent's self?

"How?"

The word was aimed and fired like so many long-distance plasma bolts that Charlotte had taken in her past.

"Tell me."

A follow up to make sure it was lethal.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A question such as that... it demanded an answer in the worst way possible. It needed an answer. And the worst of things as they stood now, that answer was required now; here, in this old and crumbling citadel. In a place that had seen so much loneliness and frigid despair. In a place that was a lone sentinel along a chain of mountains that cared little for the manmade stones placed beside them. The craggy cliffs and snow-swept slopes gave little thought to what was built around them, and never was that more apparent than here in this place.

And yet...

There was something else here as well. The vibrancy, the life that wove through each bit of masonry, whispering not only words but feelings and emotions... they were still here. Each hushed word was blended with another so that if she had heard such a thing with her ears, it would seem an unintelligible mess; however, when one listened with their own thoughts and minds, each uttering was its' own unique word. Offerings of hope and strength... of understanding and encouragement.

The silence that followed the other woman's verbal lance was significant in that the Lupine was inwardly reeling, aetherial hands coming up to grip the spear that had struck through her chest. She had recoiled with enough force to send her inner self stumbling back. But, the words and whispers of the fortress around them gave her strength enough to continue. The lance was wrenched free to clatter noiselessly on the stone floor, and the unseen form of Loklorien s'Ilancy's inward essence stood haggardly for a brief moment before rising back up to rejoin her physical form.

One hand went out and to the side, gesturing to the head of the auditorium they both now stood in. A raised dais - shallow, but unmistakable. There was no reason to stand when the both of them could sit, and s'Il beckoned the woman to accompany her.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte could tell her demand had done something to the other woman, but just how deeply she had opened old wounds was yet to be realized. The former Infiltrator hadn't expected a blurted out confession, but the almost calm way that she was beckoned toward the dais made her wary. There was no trap or trick here that she felt was lurking in wait for her, yet she felt unnerved all the same.

It took a bit of mental gymnastics before she managed to get her body to actually move and for an instant she honestly wondered if the cold had seeped in and frozen her to the spot. Her gait was anything but calm, though, and Charlotte knew she must appear more akin to a cornered predatory animal who now could not decide if the one they shared the space with was going to feed, hurt, or become the attacked.

The raised platform bumped into her leg and while she didn't exactly react outwardly, Charlotte still found herself quickly cursing herself for losing track of her surroundings. She wasn't like that. She wasn't like any of this, though. Her usual instinct would have been to tell this Alliance woman to go frak herself and storm back to the ship and glower at Xander for the ride back to Bespin. This place, though, in it's own way lost to time made her feel like she too was out of place, like she had stepped outside her usual life and all it's mess.

That strange concept returned, the one she didn't want to listen to in the slightest, that maybe - just maybe - she needed this. It was foolish and yet the very stones around her seemed to echo the sentiment. It had been wearing her down since before even entering the system and with a huff, Charlotte finally was going to let it have it's due and sat on the edge of the platform.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Slowly she lowered her frame to sit. A measured distance was maintained between herself and the woman; not close, but not so far away as to suggest she was avoiding this inevitable meeting. It was one of the many necessary outcomes and ramifications of her return from the Darkness, she had come to realize. Perhaps she would be paying for the rest of her life? If that was the case, then she accepted her fate. Centuries of paying for her crimes was a godsend, truthfully.

And as she let her hands rest in her lap, the Lupine found her eyes tracking away from the woman and down to her intertwining fingers. It was as though she was unsure of where to start, yet knew exactly where the beginning point of this discussion was supposed to be.

A long inhale, pause, then exhale. Her breath became a puff of foggy cloud that dissipated soon enough.

"I found Vega Van-Derveld on an Imperial prisoner transport," it was the simplest, easiest beginning.

But, not the entirety of the truth, and s'Il amended.

"... I sought him out."

Her fingers unwound, and palms pressed flat against one another.

"It was my thinking that he would - could - be taught."

Her eyes closed as her head bowed.

"I was wrong. So very wrong."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Finally she had a name for the demon that had penetrated her very essence and with it send a wave of nausea and recollection. Van-Derveld. The failed mission on Coruscant seemed like ages ago but it was the only time that Charlotte had actually even remotely interacted with the Intelligence officer. It wasn't the first time she had worked alongside the spooks of the Rebellion, and it was by far the last, but it was perhaps that day that had solidified her as someone their department could call on when they needed an extra hand from SpecForce. If she hadn't agreed to be part of Grace's little Task Force... If she and Dashiel never worked together...

No.

It was pointless to play games of what could have happened and try to pinpoint anything that may have lead her to another path. Charlotte wasn't entirely comfortable with the concept of predetermination but there was something that told her that no matter what outcomes changed, what choices she did differently, everything still would have lead back to Nelvaan, back to the Jedi convoy, back here.

Gods she hated The Force and it's banthadren workings.

As her thoughts mulled over and recoiled away from connections, she found it hard to try and make some coherent thought leave her, some new accusation, some new question as for why this was all happening.

"Everyone has regrets."

Where in the nine hells did that come from? She hadn't wanted to speak at all, hadn't wanted to offer any sort of absolution or sympathy, yet it had left her all the same. And with it, reluctant as Charlotte wanted to admit, so had some of the weight within her chest.

She looked over towards the other woman, avoiding eye contact as Charlotte let out a heavy clouded breath.

"Would you go back and do things differently if you could?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a question that held so much complication, and one that she had often asked of herself in silent solitude. She had never come to the point that she could answer, but hearing the words now, aloud... spoken by a voice that held such undertones of lingering pain and conflict, the Lupine had to wonder if the Force brought her here now to push her towards the answer. For some it was a simple question. For the two women who sat now, in the cavernous surroundings of an old temple buried in snow and ice, it was something that each would inevitably have to confront. That they were both here, now, was perhaps how and where those answers were always supposed to given.

There was an old saying, from one of the books that she'd taken from that age-old library nestled away in House Aulflendte's summer estate.

A stranger can expose truths, even those hidden in the deepest parts of the soul. It is not a terrible thing, but rather an experience to treasure. If you meet a stranger and they show you something of yourself that you are too afraid to confront, then you are blessed indeed.

Her tongue ran over dry lips then, as s'Il inhaled deeply.

"I do not think that I would," she finally managed.

Her jaw clenched as she let memories rake angry fingers through her mind's eye. The angry, inverted cross scar on her lower back seemed to sting, beginning small before becoming a dull ache.

"I would be too afraid of the outcome if I did something different."

Her hands clasped together, fingers winding around each other.

"And you? Would you change the things you did in the past if you could?"

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

It was the loaded question that Charlotte knew she should have expected, but still wasn't prepared to answer. There were so many points at which things could have changed for her if only she'd gone the opposite way. She could have never run away from home and joined the resistance, she could have never agreed to go on that patrol that caused her capture by the Empire, she could have begged Rask to not let the transfer to Dorn Force go through, she could have told John how she felt, she could have found some excuse to not go on that mission to The Wheel, she could have made more of a fuss at her court-martial and demanded that at least someone who was on her side was there, she could have let Xander go with her to Terminus when he had asked, she could have asked him to ask her to stay when she was most vulnerable, she could have found some way to refuse John and her brother when they finally came for her and severed all the ties she had, she could have not trusted Glayde the way she had just before she left for here.

Regrets aplenty, and yet it was only the recent decisions that lacked them. If things had been different, if she had altered the past... As painful as parts of her reality were, as much as she felt wounded still, as much as she had become something she loathed...It could have potentially removed at least one of the people in her life that still made a difference. Maybe both. Self-hatred was easy, admitting the two idiots who refused to give up on her meant something to her and it was only now, after everything she had gone through that she had managed to come to terms with that?

"No," she finally replied after what seemed an endless silence. A half smile formed on her lips as the tumult of memories eased back to their normal chaotic swirl. "I don't think I would."

A fogged breath of a laugh left her. "You know, except for the whole... Having any sort of contact with your student. Though I didn't exactly get a say on that, so I guess it doesn't count."

That was the crux of it though, wasn't it? And the reality of it slammed into her like the damn lightning that conjured itself from her hands at times. All the really terrible things in her life... the lead up decisions might have been hers but when it came down to it, those actual moments that ruined her, that turned her into this hollow shell of a person? There hadn't been a choice. There were no options. They just happened. She couldn't make them go away because they weren't her decision to make.

The realization felt like a new breed of horror and yet relief and for the first time in longer than Charlotte could even recall her vision became blurry. Anything more was stifled and blinked away.

But it felt too sudden, too convenient for her to fully accept the weight being lifted off of her. Too long had the blame been too self centered for her to accept it so easily. The barely-there expression that almost reflected happiness left her swiftly and Charlotte turned her eyes, full of suspicion and anger, on the other woman.

"What... What was that?"

It was the only explanation. It couldn't have been that simple! To simply say she wasn't to blame? That was...

"What did you do to me?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a song that she felt, haunting and threadbare as it seemed to filter into the old citadel on wind that wasn't wind. It teased the ears and mind alike, with a presence that was both here and not here. It danced through the air, invisible notes that seemed to only be heard by the soul. What she thought she could hear was most certainly not there, and yet at the same time...

She felt her body stiffen in that moment, head angling up and away as she strained to listen to a melody that was silent and noiseless. It plucked at the strings of her thoughts, and the Lupine drew in a sudden breath as each note wove like a tendril around both women.

"I... "

Her breath caught in her throat, and yet the heart buried beneath beat furiously.

"... I did nothing... "

She pushed upward to stand on suddenly unsure feet, a faltering stride sending her forward by only a few paces as her torso twisted in a motion that sent her entire body into a turn. Broken gaze skyward at the cavernous, ruined ceiling high about, s'Il felt each breath that left her lungs as though a myriad of icy needles punctured her airway.

It was such a pure thing, the melody, and her gaze snapped back down to stare at the other woman.

She stood rooted, unable to look away for what seemed an eternity. So much wrong she had done, and now it had manifested itself in the form of... of...

The Lupine fell to her knees then, her palms placed flatly on the aged stone floor as her head bowed.

Her voice was hoarse as her next words tumbled out.

"Forgive me... please... "

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

It was too much to ask for from the wounded Corellian. Forgiveness. A concept almost as foreign and alien as The Force itself had been before Van-Derveld had awakened it within her. Yet both had become part of her life lately. The number of people who had earned such at thing from her, though? It didn't even take one hand to count them, only two people had ever earned that distinction from her and both of them were waiting for her to return from this icy tomb. But to allow a third? Someone Charlotte didn't even know?

She stared down at the other woman, her expression as cold as the air they both drew into themselves. How easy would it be to refuse her? How simple to use the one who had trained her tormentor, a member of the Alliance that betrayed her, as the purest representative for all her recent woe, and snuff out the life laid before her? But there was guilt in knowing those thoughts, as dark a craving as they were, were her own. There was no other influencing her.

At least, she didn't think there was. There was something else here, though. That same calming breath that wove and permeated throughout this place. She refused to allow it a voice, though. It wasn't her and if anyone was going to make this decision, it had to come purely from Charlotte alone.

It weighed upon her mind how much there could be a potential mirror between the two women. They weren't the same, but weren't they both just products of their past? Pasts that neither one of them would change, as they had admitted. The woman before her may have created the monster that had decimated the mind of the Corellian, but the end result was clearly not intended. A failure then, a mistake, something to learn from... Which, Charlotte had to admit, it seemed the woman clearly had.

"I don't want to," the former Rebel admitted with a hint of regret. "I want to hate you like I hate everyone else that's to blame. The Empire, The Alliance, The Jedi, the - Whatever He is."

A heavy breath followed as the ridged nature of her spine collapsed as shoulders slumped and Charlotte shook her head.

"But I don't. There's nothing to forgive you for, because you aren't to blame. But if you want it, if you need that from me? Then yes, I forgive you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Did she need it? Did she need to be told that she was no longer the one found at fault? From another person it might have been one thing, but from this woman... this woman who had been so directly affected by her own actions of evil...

This woman had given a blessing of sorts, and the Lupine took it in with stoic silence. Practically prostrate before a being that had endured so much heartache and cruelty, s'Il felt a strange sense of hope blossom in her chest. And yet, still she did not look up. Perhaps she thought herself unworthy? Perhaps she thought that she was - in the face of everything - a pawn? As much of a pawn as this woman the Force had sent her to meet? It was something that raked across her mind and thoughts, something that took her breath from her lungs.

"We have both been used," her voice was low, murmured almost even as her gaze stayed upon the frost-covered stones below her.

"And perhaps penance is a much longer road for me, but for you... "

For her partner in this strange endeavor of reckoning, it was just as poignant, she guessed.

"... you have something precious that I did not, and I envy you."

Her eyes closed then, and her head angled even further inward, her entire body seeming to draw into itself. Still, she could not bring herself to look up.

"You have a choice."

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Did she?

It was a strange thought, having clung to the edge of oblivion and stared deep beyond for so long, Charlotte had forgotten she didn't have to jump. Maybe it was this place, that soothing essence that was to blame, but she couldn't help envisioning her determined path to leap into the void and how it had been stopped, by her Major placing himself before her and death, by her brother pulling her back even at the cost of his own anguish that she had caused to be there in the first place.

She could push past them and fling herself into desolation or she could allow those that carried the broken pieces of her heart to fully bring her back from the brink, to turn her the other way. The woman was right, she did have a choice, and it was one that Charlotte had already found herself in the process of making. Perhaps this... THIS was the final nudge she needed? The final effort that would fully allow herself to listen to them.

But she wasn't alone on the edge.

It was a place of isolation and bitterness and yet... Here she was, face to face with someone who also stood staring down the same pit, the same blackness they shared.

Charlotte stood up, her joints stiffened from the cold and knelt down near the other woman. Her hand reached out slowly, gloved as it was, and placed it softly against the other woman's head. In that instant she knew. The same thing that held the rebel from the brink was also there for the woman who met here here. Not in the same manner that Charlotte had, but this woman too had someone who held onto shattered remains of herself, even if it was strained and disquieting.

"You have one as well. Not the one you want..."

Where was this insight coming from? This certainty that what she was saying was true.

"We both have others who care for us, who are a part of us..."

The words left her almost without thought, but were none the less meaningful.

"You too have something I shall ever have...That I can't."

Without thought the younger woman reached out and grasped the hand of the elder. What the kriff was she doing?Enough of a tug up to pull the woman to her knees so she was not on all fours before the Corellian. Why. Why did she need to tell her secret to someone unknown, a bitterness that Charlotte had kept to herself that only those that had read upon her full declassified injuries from her earliest days with the Resistance would know of.

Charlotte took a breath in and gently pressed the woman's hand against her lower stomach.

"And you need to treasure that. For the sake of those of us who cannot."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a world of emotion that took her up into a maelstrom of instinctive need in that moment. An instinct that was now born of hope and protection and understanding. The Force rippled and danced around the other woman, weaving in and out of her essence, becoming a part of her and twining its' wispy tendrils through her being. But, it was a sad dance that s'Il was seeing. A dance that spoke of something so precious yet never possessed.

Her free hand moved to lay itself over the top of the woman's slender fingers, firm in their grip.

With a wide, unmatching gaze, the Lupine felt her essence locked with that of the woman she now shared this empty place with. Her voice crept out from her mouth like a scared, trembling child.

"Who... who are you... ?"