Star Wars: Swords of the Force

[HookerBoots]

She heard the quiet words he said, and choked back a sob. Her steps sped up, and she barely looked where she was going, trusting instinct and the broad path the ship had cleared to keep her from crashing into a tree. Irina thought for a moment what Lizeth would do, with them both gone, but the thought was fleeting. Lizzie was an adult now, could take care of herself.

The underbrush she'd been struggling through was gone, and she stumbled at the sudden change from grass and bushes to fine sand. She let herself fall, knees and hands hitting the fine grains as her tears started. It had been years since she'd hated herself this much. She had hurt him, badly, and let him be hurt by others. It felt as though her soul were tearing, the certainty that she'd done what she'd needed to to ensure they both made it through as whole as possible warring with the fact that he had every right to hate her now.

There was nothing she could do now. No redemption, no apology that could make up for what had been done to him except her death. She didn't deserve to hope that he could forgive her, understand why she'd done what she did. Kneeling there on the sand, feeling the heat of whatever sun this planet orbited on her back and shoulders, hearing the birds start to sing behind her, she knew true misery. As soon as they were rescued, after he and her sister were safe, she'd make the only atonement she could. The thought made her feel marginally better; resolve was good, a bulwark against the spirit-crushing despair.

~ ~ ~ ~​

She had lain there on the sand the rest of the day, trying to figure out how long it would be before they were rescued. This wasn't exactly where they were supposed to be, but the Jedi should have been nearby when the crash happened. It was possible they'd even seen it, and were taking care of the crew that had escaped, and would be here soon, to see if anyone else was left.

The sun was setting, turning the sky into a vibrant display of colors. Irina sat up, drinking in the colors. This might be her last sunset, and she was almost pleased it was such a nice one. A speck descending caught her attention, and she frowned. That was either the biggest bird she'd ever seen - unlikely, since all the other wildlife here was normal-sized - or a ship.

Another speck, and another, all growing larger, and hope surged. That must be . . . they grew close enough that she could see the design of the ships, and she smiled broadly. Now things would be resolved, for all of them. There was a moment of hesitation, and she reached out with her mind. Ramza, there are ships coming. Your Master, and other Jedi, to the beach. But she schooled her face to calmness, knowing they would probably do the job for her, if they saw her alone and grinning.

The ships landed, and a familiar figure strode down the ramp, eyes blazing and light saber glowing in the dimming light. "You."

"Master Jedi. A pleasure to see you again, I'm sure."

A sneer, out of place on those fine features, grew. "You snotty bitch. Where is he? If he's dead . . . ."

"Stop, Jakara." The blond man behind her rested one hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. "Can't you feel it? Orlandau is alive, and coming this way." He fixed Irina with piercing eyes, and she straighted involuntarily. "This young woman . . . is hurt."

Irina rolled her shoulders. "Just a twisted ankle. I'll be fine soon." The amused, sympathetic look he gave her almost made her flush. That wasn't what he'd meant, and she knew it. But he didn't hate her on sight, which was something. Didn't change anything, really, but at least there was one person who might think kindly of her when everything was over.

She heard the rustle of leaves behind them, and tried desperately not to smirk at Master Shahazdra as Ramza and her sister appeared. "You can take me into custody now, if you like."

Lizeth looked at her sister, confused, and back at the Jedi. "Custody? Irina, what are you talking about?"

 

[Armphid]

"It means she thinks that we would act as she would in our position," Master Shahazdra snapped, almost absently. Her eyes were looking past Irina, past the girl who looked so like her and the Kushiban in her arms, to him. Ramza. Her son in all but blood. He looked drawn, haggard, fatigue and despair and a great weight of pain were written on his face, though he schooled himself with resolve to hide it. Hide it? As soon hide a rancor in a Jawa bar.

To one open to it, Ramza Orlandau was an open wound in the Force. How he was keeping from flying apart, she couldn't guess. There was so much hurt and anguish, anger and frustration, guilt, terrible guilt, rage, resentment, self-hate, and a deep and darkening sense of abject hopelessness. She felt tears in her eyes just looking at him, and her anger at Irina was overwhelmed by concern, "Oh...what did they do to you," she breathed.

The flame haired Jedi Master pushed past Irina, not even giving her another look. She approached Ramza, the young man trying to smile, managing something akin to it. He should feel glad, he knew he should feel that. And he did, but it was muted, somehow. Distant. "Master Shahazdra, I never thought...it's good to see you, Master."

She pulled him into a tight embrace, keeping her decorum enough to not sob or weep openly, "How many times must I tell you not to call me Master anymore," she whispered fiercely.

"At least once more, Master," came the familiar reply. Ramza let his head fall to her shoulder, the physical closeness, one without pain, one of love and comfort...he'd wanted something like this so badly. So badly. Just for someone to try and comfort him, even a little. It meant so much. Even if...even if it wasn't her arms he wanted to be in. But...she hadn't offered him comfort, or even a kind word. And she wouldn't now, not after what he'd said, true or not. He hugged her back, fighting to keep from breaking down on the spot.

"He is hurt as well, I see." The blond man spoke softly, watching the two Jedi's reunion. It was deep, and it was getting worse. From himself, mostly, but from other sources as well. It would have to be addressed. But first..."You are Irina Farlander, aren't you?" The man descended the ramp, dressed in Jedi robes, but black ones, his right hand similarly clad. "I'm Luke Skywalker, Miss Farlander, and it's a relief that we finally found you." He looked over at his fellow Order members, "Jakara, let's get them aboard. They all need the doctor."

Lizeth chewed on her lower lip. Luke Skywalker! Here! Talking to her sister! This was all so crazy, but...were they going to arrest Irina? "Umm, excuse me, Master Skywalker, sir, you're...you're not really going to arrest my sister, are you?" She clutched the Kushiban to her, the small sentient uttering a squeak at being squeezed so tightly, "She didn't do anything wrong, well, not really wrong, and she did it all to save me, and Ramza, and-and, she's been through enough! You shouldn't do it!"

Luke smiled, "And you thought no one would defend you, didn't you, Irina?" He shook his head, "Your sister is not our prisoner. She was never going to be. She is our guest, for as long as she wishes to be, which I hope will be for some time to come. But, we can talk about that later. You all need warm food, rest, and a doctor's care." He looked past the girls at where Jakara was helping Ramza make his way to the ramp. "And this is a rescue, so try and enjoy it. I've rarely had ones that went this well."

~~~~~​

Hours later, the small collection of ships that made up the make-shift "fleet" soared through the void. Inside The Twin Suns, Luke sat in a small room, setting down a datapad.

Jakara Shahazdra sat before him, her eyes red and the trails of tears clear on her cheeks. "They're all resting now, Master Skywalker. We should...make a few decisions. I haven't read her statement, but I did speak with Ramza at length. This Sith woman-"

"She rejected that path, Jakara," he reminded her, his voice faintly chiding. "I know you don't like her, but when the moment came, she chose to move out of the Dark and stand against it. That's no small thing."

"Balanced against the rest, Master?" Her voice was bitter now. "You talked to Ramza as well, you know what those...animals did to him! She helped him in the end, but she's just as complicit as they are in what happened! The arrogant chit! Still acting as though she did everything right! As though she's above the same rules she holds him to!"

"Jakara..."

"I'm sorry, Master." She sighed, "Seeing him so...he's a son to me, Master. And he's so hurt, and I don't know what to do to help him."

Luke looked out the small window at the starfield beyond. "He's not the only whose hurt. Both of them have harmed each other deeply, and in the end, they are the only ones you can help each other." He turned his face back to her, "I've never felt a bond so strong, or feelings so deep for each other. I think if we just nudge them a little, maybe provide some clarity, that bond will prove stronger than any hurt done to either of them."

 

[HookerBoots]

She sat on the small, narrow bed in the small, narrow room, wondering when the summons would come. Irina would have taken care of herself directly, but had been told in no uncertain terms that she would need to be available to them for some time to come. Which was the last thing she wanted.

It hadn't surprised her that she was given a small room, or that she'd gotten disgust-filled looks from Ramza's Master. But at least she'd been able to give a statement, and Master Skywalker had been fair in his questioning. She almost laughed. A year ago, a month ago, she'd have been thrilled at the chance to meet Luke Skywalker - thrilled, and scared out of her mind that he'd see through her. Now . . . she was too tired to feel much of anything except the pain.

Irina had told them everything, not bothering to care what they thought of her. There wasn't anything they could do to her that she didn't deserve, nothing bad they could think of her that she hadn't thought about herself already. And no one here really mattered, except two people. And her sister . . . Lizeth loved her, she knew that.

A knock on the door, and she looked up. "Yes?"

The door slid open, and she was surprised. She'd expected an anonymous Jedi, not Master Skywalker. She stood slowly, her ankle feeling better than it had since they landed - the medical personnel here knew what they were doing, even if they had been reluctant to treat her. Irina bowed slightly. "Master Jedi."

"You don't have to bow everytime I enter a room, you know." His smile was small, but hiding a great amusement, and she couldn't help but answer it with a small smile of her own.

"If you say so." She put her hands behind her back. "What can I assist you with?"

He motioned for her to follow, and she tilted her head at him. "I need you to come with me, Irina."

She laughed. "I know, but I'm confused about why and where."

"Find out when you get there, I imagine."

~ ~ ~ ~​

The room was isolated, nothing but maintainence accesses and broomclosets around it, and Irina wondered idly if they were going to kill her down here, so that the rest of the ship wouldn't get all messy. Then she quickly dismissed the idea; these people wouldn't kill her. Not without a hearing.

The door to the room opened, and the idea respawned. Murder was the only reason he'd have brought her to these two people. But it was what she deserved, so she lifted her head and walked into the room. "Master Shahazdra. Lord Orlandau." She felt the door shut behind her, Master Skywalker still in the room. The odds of dying here looked less likely, then.

She glanced at Ramza, glad to see that he looked healthy, at least. Still strained and tense, no doubt from having to associate with her again. But at least he no longer looked half-dead. That was good.

"Sit down, Irina." She looked over her shoulder at Master Skywalker, then shrugged and sat stiffly in one of the spare chairs. "We need to talk, all of us."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza sat upright in his chair, his face having darkened when she called him 'Lord Orlandau.' Why was she doing that? Damn it! Now she was just trying to hurt him! Why else would she throw the distance she was keeping from him in his face? Why else would she flaunt that he was just a noble to her, not her lover, or that being noble had somehow outweighed anything they had. Hadn't stopped her from fucking that Sith, had it?

Master Shahazdra laid a hand on the nobleman's shoulder, squeezing in a gesture of both comfort and slight rebuke. "Relax, girl, you're not among enemies here. What else do we have to do to make you believe that?" Honestly! They'd given her clothes, food, medical treatment, her own berth on ship when many were sharing, let her keep her weapon, and she still acted like they might just kill her at any moment. "We've given you no reason to suspect us, Miss Farlander."

Luke nodded, "Though Master Shahazdra is overly tart about it, she's right, Irina." Eyes that were deeply sympathetic and deep seeing looked at her for a few long moments, before shifting to Ramza. "You'll have to decide if we're to be your friends, but we're not your enemies." He sat down at the last remaining chair, tapping one of the datapads there, "But our mutual enemies have hurt both of you terribly, and you're hurt each other, terribly. I've read both of your reports, and been able to look back through the Force to observe some of what happened a bit more directly."

Jakara nodded, "I went with Master Skywalker into the past to see, and we both realize that the best thing for you both is each other."

Luke sighed, "Which is a problem when you're not talking to each other. Or even going near each other. Or devolving into yelling and screaming when you do talk because neither of you is willing to say certain things. You're too emotionally involved to see this for what it is."

"So," Jakara continued, "we will mediate your dispute. As with all mediations, the end is up to you. All we can do it provide insight, the raw truths, suggest actions, listen to your wishes, and let you act accordingly." She looked at Ramza, "Master Skywalker will take up Jedi Orlandau's position, and I...will be giving yours, Miss Farlander."

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina's eyes widened. "You? I wouldn't have dreamed . . . well, mediation. And I suppose I should relax, but it's been a trying few days." She sighed and leaned back in the chair a little more easily. "I'm not sure what will be changed by this, but I'm willing to try it." Not that it mattered; he'd been hurt too deeply, and she couldn't imagine anything that would change his mind about her. But if there was even a chance that it would . . . that he could love her again . . . .

Master Skywalker raised an eyebrow at her, then smiled. "All right. Though neither of you really has much choice in this. Jakara?"

The female Jedi nodded slowly, a slightly sour expression on her face which dissipated after a moment. "Ramza, Miss Farlander . . . Irina is certain that you no longer care for her. Whether this is true or not, the fact that you haven't told her that you still do, though she has, makes her feel even more certain." Her eyes flicked between them. "To the point where she intends to kill herself."

"How did -?" Irina blinked, then flushed. She supposed she hadn't been exactly shielding her thoughts, but she hadn't expected it to be brought up.

Master Shahazdra gave her a stern look, and Irina shut her mouth tightly. "Furthermore, she believes that she did the best she could during the . . . incident, and did in fact notify us so that you could be saved, and you haven't even said one word of thanks. And despite that, she also believes that she has no right to be close to you, physically or emotionally, after what you endured. This is another motive for her desire to end her own life - it is the only possible recompense she can see that would even the score for your pain."

She took a deep breath. This was the part that galled her the most - the part she truly agreed with the girl on. "Irina is also upset that you, as someone who has been forced to play a hated role to complete a mission and save lives, don't understand her actions with Darth Traya." It was true that deception was counter to the ideals of the Jedi Order, but there were times when it was necessary. And Jakara was willing to admit that if Irina hadn't done what she did, neither of them would have come back at all.

Irina was staring at the other woman, eyes wide and wet. She'd never imagined that Ramza's master, who hated her so much, would be so sensitive to her feelings, and willing to help them reconcile. And it hurt to have her feelings exposed like this, to know that someone understood. It hurt more than dealing with it alone.

"Master Skywalker and I have decided to each present our - your - cases, and then give recommendations at the end of both cases." Master Shahazdra folded her hands in her lap, looked at Luke. "We are prepared to hear the opposing side."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza listened to his Master's familiar voice, laying out the secret thoughts and feelings of his love. Never once did he doubt that she was correct. When she mentioned that Irina planned to kill herself, he took in a shocked, hissing breath and started to rise, only to have a firm hand placed on his shoulder by Master Skywalker. "Not yet, Ramza. We'll have our turn to speak."

The young Jedi turned deeply disturbed, desperate eyes to the living legend, but then nodded once, sitting back down. As Master Shahazdra went in, Ramza found himself stunned beyond words. How could she think that about him?

"Thank you, Master Shahazdra." Luke's calm voice replied once the handsome female Jedi finished speaking. "I am quite ready to bring Ramza's concerns to light, as well as comment on a few minor points." He took a moment, then began, "Ramza is equally certain that you do not care for him, and that your claims are another attempt at manipulating him for an unknown end. Despite your words, and despite all he has suffered, you have not offered him a single kind word since your reunion. You have instead taunted him about actions not his own, those of your sister, and accused him of malice due to his title, knowing that it would hurt him." Ramza looked down at the table, astonished and even a bit chagrined at the truthfulness of it. "He went through a very great deal, and you have never even offered him a shred of comfort."

Luke leaned forward on the table, "He also feels that you don't care about what happened to him, and that you are too self centered to notice how much he is hurting inside. When the topic of his treatment did come up, your only comment was that it made you want to throw up. Also, while you were engaged in a willing and full blown sexual relationship, which he is supposed to not be hurt by and accept, you have raked him with bitterness over two kisses. To him, it is as if what he has gone through it simply of no consequence to you, though to him...it is a very central matter."

"As to the feeling that he should accept your affair with Darth Traya, he feels that you're asking something unfair, and that you yourself would not do in his place. As I mentioned, it seemed you hated him for two kisses, but he is supposed to not be upset over numerous sexual encounters." The blonde Jedi Master sighed, "And though he can understand your reasons, he still feels that gaining their trust didn't have to mean having this relationship. And even if it did, understanding is one thing. But to expect him not to feel hurt by it, particularly knowing what was happening to him in the meantime, is simply unfair and unrealistic."

"Ramza, whose mind was vulnerable and his body racked with the agony of some fairly distracting procedures, feels that your affair is more than you let on. The other Sith told him this, and Darth Traya herself made him "see" it through the Force. And then he saw you fighting to avenge her, wielding her weapon. To him, it appeared very plainly that you must have truly loved her, and therefore, could not have truly loved him."

Luke held up one of the datapads, "Through your report, Master Shakazdra and I know certain facts about why things appeared that way, but...no one, including yourself, has made any of that information available to him." He set the small unit back down, "Lastly, the reason that he hasn't said he still loves you is because, through your bond, and all you shared before this incident...that you knew that already, and it hurts him greatly that you think his love is so easily given and then lost."

 

[HookerBoots]

Had she really . . . she had been that blind, that wrapped up in her own troubles that she hadn't even thought to offer him comfort. But she didn't see why he would even want comfort from her, if he was so certain she didn't care for him, had decieved him. But was she allowed to speak for herself now? Irina glanced at Master Shahazdra, who nodded. "You can speak for yourself, if you can keep your cool."

"I think I can manage that." She clasped her hands tightly together. "I suppose . . . I suppose I am terribly self-centered. All I could sense through our link was the pain, not any affection that still lingered for me." Her voice was calm, but her eyes were tearing up. "And I still can't understand why, if you believed that I'm trying to manipulate you, you would want me to comfort you."

Irina bit her lower lip, turning her face down. "I also thought that, even if I offered and comfort, you wouldn't take anything from me because of what happened on the ship. It was easier to focus on my own hurts." She felt a tear slide down her cheek and wiped it alway, almost violently. "And I suppose I lashed out about you and Lizeth because I felt guilty over my actions with Traya."

Her eyes, wide and luminous, looked at Ramza, her maelstrom of emotion reflected there. "I'm sorry that you believed for a second that I would do something like that, but I'm not responsible for what they told you. I did, and do, truly, deeply love you, Ramza. But I don't know how to convince you of that." Her eyes drifted down to her hands, the white knuckles and short nails. "That's all. And I . . . I ask forgiveness for the way I've acted. I don't deserve it, I know, and I don't even have the right to hope for it, but . . . please, love, forgive me."

 

[Armphid]

Seeing her like this made Ramza's heart ache, and he understood now. He'd understood some of it before, but now, laid out like this...and seeing her that way...it made it all clear. Not the mess of what had happened and why. Not his pain and her affair. Not the fact of whether he'd ever get over the emotional and mental wounds. But the fact that, none of that mattered as much as their love. "I wanted your comfort, and yours above anyone or anything else, because I love you, Irina." His voice was soft, his eyes and expression tragically vulnerable. "I never stopped loving you, even...even though there were moments when I didn't want to, when I wished I could stop, wished that I could hate you since I never got the chance, and never will, to blame anyone, confront anyone for what happened."

"I'm sorry too...sorry that I'm so...torn up and messed up inside. If I wasn't feeling so much hurt and confusion and despair, you could have felt how much I love you, how much I need you." He closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead, rubbing it slowly. "I want to be able to look past Traya, but...it's hard." He felt a few tears escaping his own eyes, "I know that you did it to help me, but feeling you doing that, feeling so good when...it's hard."

He leaned across the table, stretching out a hand, palm up, "But you do deserve forgiveness, and I do forgive you, if you'll forgive me for not seeing that I hurt you too. That it's not just me, and it's not just you." He swallowed hard, feeling a sudden lump in his throat. "It'll take my time to recover from this, but I know that without you, I won't make it. Please live, Irina. Live with me, and love me, and I'll love you, and...somewhere along the way, we'll be happy and whole."

 

[HookerBoots]

She swallowed hard. It couldn't be this easy. She wanted it to be, badly, but it was so hard to believe. Her hand stretched out, touching his fingers, then gripping his hand tightly. Irina couldn't believe that it could feel this good, just touching his hand. It was like a cool drink on a hot day, and if they were alone, she'd have a hard time keeping herself from throwing herself at him.

"I'll do my best, Ramza. We'll live and love together, and be as happy as we can." Her smile was small and bittersweet. "I'll try to help you recover as best I can. Any way I can. I think we can do it together." She'd do her best to deserve his forgiveness, and to make him as happy as she could.

The two Master Jedi exchanged a glance, one pleased, the other resigned. Both of them stood up, and Jakara looked at Ramza and Irina. "I suppose," she said, "we should move your things into my apprentice's room."

Irina glanced at her, and then back at Ramza. "That's up to you, love. If you don't feel comfortable sharing a bed with me yet, that's all right."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza gave her hand a squeeze. It felt right, and very good, to touch her. Just the feel of their joined hands was wonderful. He felt...better. Not fully good, not over anything, but...it was better.

Ramza thought for a moment, unsure of whether this was something he really wanted to talk about in front of his personal Master and the leader of the entire Jedi Order. But at this point, they were pretty deeply involved. And though Master Shahazdra might not like it, he knew his answer. "Thank you, Irina, but I can think of little that would help me more right now than a night in your arms." He looked up at his Master, his eyes still haunted, still hurt, but hopeful, even eager. "If you would, Master, have her things moved."

He wasn't sure what exactly she HAD on the ship, but it would be there in their room.

Master Skywalker moved to the door, "Let's take care of it now then. The doctors say you both need rest more than anything, and while this was necessary, I don't want to wear either of you any thinner." They both looked worlds better, but they still looked like they'd wrestled a rancor for dinner and lost. "Jakara, would you...?"

"Yes, Master." The middle-aged woman moved away from the table, pausing for a moment to look back at Ramza and Irina's joined hands. Then she turned and was gone into the corridor of the ship.

"Good." Luke stayed where he was, "Master Shahazdra is warming to you, but she is...suspicious still, and she cares very much for her former apprentice, Irina. She will forgive you, in time." Maybe. She could be stubborn. Not like anyone else he knew, he thought with a smile. "But now that she is gone, there is something I would like to say."

Ramza felt Irina tense, giving her hand another squeeze. The Master Jedi looked past the two of them, thinking of days long gone. "I have struggled with the Dark Side, and in the past, I fell. I know how it can feel, how alluring it can be, and that turning away from it can carry a cost." He then smiled, a bit sadly, his eyes moving to Irina's. "But you do not have to carry it alone. Right now, we're heading to Yavin 4 to let you both rest and heal. Once you're ready, you may leave if you wish, but I hope you will stay. You would be a powerful and welcome Jedi, Irina Farlander. If you want it, there is a place waiting for you in our Order, and at the Academy. Please consider it." He nodded to them both, and then turned and exited the room, leaving the two lovers alone.

 

[HookerBoots]

She looked at the closed door for a moment, a little surprised. Ramza had said . . . but it was hard to believe. She hadn't done anything to deserve their trust, and done everything that deserved their contempt. Irina smiled slowly, realizing for the first time perhaps that they were very different from the people she'd known.

Irina turned to look at Ramza, a hesitancy she hadn't ever experienced with him before in her face. "I . . . if it's all right with you, beloved, we can get something to eat in your - our - room and then spend the rest of the evening there?" It was daunting, the idea of being alone with him, the tension between them still so heavy and both their wounds still so raw. But she wanted badly to be with him in any way, touching him, holding him, being held by him.

Standing, still holding his hand, she stood and walked to where he sat. Only a momentary hesitation before she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her and resting her head on his. "I'm so sorry for how I've treated you, love. So sorry."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza did not move, did not speak, for long seconds as she held him. His eyes were wide, warm, and wet. Her arms were so sweet, so comforting, so protective. He closed his eyes, pressing his face into her chest. "I know," he replied, "I know you are." He wanted to say that it was okay, that everything was better now, that it was all right.

But it wasn't all right. He would be lying, and she'd know it.

He looked up at her with his haunted eyes, "I"m sorry too, Irina. I didn't believe in you and I should have. I'm so sorry I let you down." His arms pulled her tightly against him, and he felt tears on his cheeks. It felt so warm and safe. He wanted to tell her. He could tell her. He could let it out, and she wouldn't think any less of him...but not now. He'd have to suffer it all bottled up a while longer.

Ramza then released her, his hands sliding to her hips and gently pushing her away so he could stand. "Let's go to the room, lover. I...it won't be easy, but...I want to be with you, only you. I need it, and I need you."

 

[HookerBoots]

She nodded, putting an arm around him as they left the room; it was more for the contact than support, though her ankle still pained her a little, and his walk wasn't as fast as it had been. They made their way to the galley and gathered up some quick, easy edibles, and then to his room. Irina wasn't surprised to see that it was larger than hers had been, or to see the small amount of belongings she had with her or been given - her boots, two spare changes of clothing they'd given her - sitting on a chair.

They ate on the bed, sharing what they'd gotten - some fresh and dried fruit, a loaf of bread, well-done meat, and two bottles of water each - not talking much but just touching and being together. It felt good, almost like a dream. But there was still a lot of work to be done, and they would both have to do it.

Irina took a sip of water and sighed. "Do you know how long it'll be til we reach Yavin 4? I'm eager to meet your friends . . . and my future comrades." Then she laughed a little. "We've been reduced to small talk. Tragic." Another sigh. "I'm sorry, Ramza, I just don't really . . . know how to broach anything we need to talk about. Not really something they teach you, as a Sith apprentice."

 

[Armphid]

"Don't apologize," He shook his head, reaching out to lay one of his hands on hers. "Even if you knew how...I'm not ready. I'm just not ready." He closed his eyes, the mere reference to it making images flow through his head, and he felt phantom pains. His hand jerked off of her, feeling along his left arm, rubbing the skin there. It was there. It was there. "For now...small talk is fine, or even more serious talk, but...I'm just not ready, baby. I'm sorry, I know...I know I'm weak."

Weak. Too weak to keep from having to be caught. To not scream. Too weak to break free without random chance intervening, too weak not to kiss Lizeth, too weak, too weak by far...too weak to survive this, to ever get past it.

His shoulders shook, and his chest heaved, but he forced the feelings down, swallowed the sob, and blinked away the tears. "I-it's going to be a while to Yavin y-yet, I think." His voice was shaky, but he started to wrench it into a more normal tone. "I don't know what system we're even in."

He closed his eyes, marshaling himself. He opened them, forcing himself to smile, "Long enough for me to convince you to accept Master Skywalker's offer, I hope."

 

[HookerBoots]

Her breath hissed as he reacted, almost like a seizure, from the mere mention of what had happened on the other ship. Well, it would take time, and she was prepared to wait until he was ready to talk about it, if he ever was. But Irina reached out and moved what was left of the food off the bed, snaked her arms around him, and moved them both so they were half-laying, half-leaning against the wall. "I don't know that you need to convince me very much," she said, avoiding the topic that caused him pain and hoping he wouldn't think she was ignoring the pain.

A small smile played on her lips, and she squeezed him lightly. "It's a kind offer, and I'll be happy to take it. Though I am a little in the dark as to what sort of things I'll be doing at the Academy." This felt good, so very good. She never thought she'd be able to feel this way again. "Work, learn, or both? What do you do there, Ramza?"

 

[Armphid]

He sighed, not from any mournful feeling or sorrow, but from a contentment that surprised him. She was so sweet, and this...this felt good. He needed this, needed her.

Ramza looked into her eyes, and at that smile...and found himself smiling as well. It was a small smile, tentative, but genuine. His arms left their inspection of his body to loop around her waist. "Both, and more, my love. Even as a Knight or a Master, there's always training, meditating, learning. We never stop deepening ourselves in the Force, and preparing ourselves for the rigors that life will throw our way."

"I haven't spent more than a few days at the Academy in over a year, but..." He tilted his head to one side a bit, his eyes studying her face. "We eat together, play games, train and spar." That strong and noble brow. "We have classes as apprentices, but things are more free form as knights." Her glorious eyes, so full of hurt and wonder. "We work with the apprentices when asked. We explore the moon, both the jungles and the ruins." Her cute, pert nose. "We meditate, together and individually. We attend a morning deepening that Master Skywalker leads." Her delicate cheekbones, the graceful line of her cheek. "We laugh and cry, we make friends, and enemies, we love..." Her sweet, soft looking lips..."I'm sorry, Irina, but-"

Ramza leaned his face forward, pressing his lips to hers. Oh. Oh, yes. Yes, this was good. The kiss broke after a few tender moments, and he smiled again, "...I just had to do that."

 

[HookerBoots]

Her smile was slow and pleased. "That's all right, love. I'm more than happy to help you with those urges." The kiss had been so wonderful, sweet and caring and so delicious. One finger traced the side of his face gently, studying his face for a moment, before leaning in to kiss him herself. If there were nothing more to life, she would be completely happy.

They parted again, and she sighed happily. "It sounds nice. Sort of like a . . . community, like a family." It would be nice to have a family, a group that cared about her. She hadn't had that for a long time. Being with him was all she needed, but it would be nice to have a group of people that liked her. Take adjustment, of course, but she could adjust, adapt.

"Do you want to sleep, or talk, or just . . . be like this?" She nestled against his side, arms still around him and breathing deeply, taking in his scent and the feel of his body against hers. "I'm happy with any of the above, really."

 

[Armphid]

Ramza smiled softly, wondering if there was something else she was going to say instead of "just this." He leaned forward, off the wall, then let himself fall back on the bed. And as Irina's arms and his were still holding each other, she came with him. The bed thumped , covers rippling a bit as the two damaged young people landed on them.

He reached up a finger to tap her lips, then run along the curve of her jaw. "We don't need to talk, Irina. Just stay here with me for now, hold me, and let me hold you. Right now, that sounds just about perfect."

He closed his eyes, shifting a bit closer to her. She was so warm, and he could feel her breasts brushing against him as she breathed in and out. Her smell was in his nose, and as she held him tight, he felt safe enough to fall into sleep. Sleep he hadn't had since their escape.

 

[HookerBoots]

Her arms felt right around him, and she smiled as his eyes closed. It was as perfect as it could be, even without making love. Irina shifted, pulling closer to him, and closing her own eyes. It felt so good, wonderful, to have him in her arms again. They'd worry about everything else tomorrow, or the day after. Her breathing evened out, and before very long, the feeling of his arms around her and his body against hers lulling her into a deep sleep in seconds.

Irina woke up slowly, her eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light in the cabin. Her eyes went to Ramza's face, looking at the sleep-smoothed features there with undisguised affection and desire. He was all she wanted from life, and this . . . waking up with him in her arms was more wonderful, more comfortable than she had ever dreamed of being.

One hand moved up to stroke his hair, her fingers gently combing through the tangles. If he weren't ready to make love yet, she'd respect that, but she wanted him so very badly. Best to let him sleep, though, to regain his strength. And even though she could think of a few things she should take care of, she didn't want to have him wake up with her gone. Or want to leave him at all. It could wait. It could all wait, the whole universe, for him.

 

[Armphid]

His breathing changed, a sudden intake of breath, then it became faster. His eyes, still closed, grew tense, his mouth curling into a pained grimace. He started to twitch slightly, small noises of discomfort, of fear escaping him.

He was back on the table, the Sith leaning over him. Their eyes were gloating and vile, especially those in Thalnos' seared and blackened features. They had him again. Had she turned him over again? Had they killed her? He looked down at his body to see them grasping at his body, fingers sinking into him like claws and peeling his skin back to reveal what lay beneath. He looked back up to see them lifting cruel, shiny steel implements in their bloodied hands...

His movements grew broader, quicker. His head shook slightly back and forth as if in denial, his mouth whispering the words "no more" silently over and over again. He took in a sharp breath, holding it, his back arching, a tear squeezing out of one eye.

Ramza's eyes snapped open, wide and wild, not really seeing. Held, he was being held! Trapped! With a choking cry he pushed the thing restraining him away, throwing himself off the table, crashing to the floor. He scrambled madly, backing away, knocking a chair aside, the things stacked on it falling down in him, smacking him soundly as he thrashed about looking for an escape. A corner! He was in a corner! Trapped again! He shuddered, half-sobbing, half snarling...

...and then he saw. He wasn't there. It was a bed, his bed for the moment. And it wasn't straps or metal bars that had been holding him down, but Irina. Irina who was still on the bed, gaping at him. He looked back at her, eyes huge, regretful, terrified. He shook his head, leaning back against the corner, curling up on himself, "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry." He rested his head on his knees, his face hidden, shaking a bit, back and forth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over.

 

[HookerBoots]

In a second, she was off the bed, kneeling next to him, arms around him gently. "Shhhh, it's not your fault, love. It's not your fault." God, she felt awful. It wasn't his fault, it was hers. And she wished there was something she could do to help, but all she could do was this. She rocked him back and forth, trying to comfort him as much as she could. "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't know it would make you . . . I'm sorry."

Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, she fought back the tears. No matter what she'd gone through, he's suffered thousands of times worse, just because he loved her. "You're safe, Ramza, it's all right. I'm here, you'll be fine." Her heart was heavy, and all she wanted was to make him feel better. And she knew she couldn't. "I'm so sorry."

 

[Armphid]

"It wasn't you," he answered. He turned his head to look up at her, "It was me. Just a dream, but it felt...well, I guess you can tell how, huh?" He tried to smile, tried to laugh, but both efforts failed miserably. He let his legs uncurl to lie flat on the floor, taking a few breaths. He was safe. She was here. Here. With him. "With me," he whispered, a hand lifting up to find hers and squeeze.

His other arm rose to loop around her body, pulling her to him. "It's okay, I'm okay. It's gone now, and I'm with you. I'm with you, and that's enough, more than enough."

She was crying. Now he felt guilty, inwardly he cursed his weakness. "Don't cry, baby, please. It's okay now, you didn't do anything to hurt me." He pressed his head to her, nuzzling, "Right now, you're helping me, you're saving me...I couldn't do this without you."

 

[HookerBoots]

Her smile was weak and grateful. "I'm just so sorry you're hurting, love." She stroked his hair, holding him close to her, while one hand brushed away the few tears that had escaped her eyes. "And I have hurt you, Ramza, but I know that's not why you were so . . . panicked. And we'll deal with them both when you're ready, not sooner."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to lift his face to hers. "Anything you need from me, Ramza, just tell me. I want to help you as much as I can." Still a little unsure, she kissed his cheek, hesitated a moment, then his lips. Sweet, tender, and trying to show him her love.

When the kiss broke, her smile was a little stronger. "I was going to go talk with your master, or Master Skywalker, about Lizeth." The smile dimmed a little, and she put her other arm around him. "I don't know that I want her to go back to Cholganna right away. And I know I don't want to go back there for a while."

 

[Armphid]

"I will." There was nothing he could say to the first part of her sweet speech. It was too true. She had hurt him, and that wasn't why he had freaked out, but...it wasn't not part either. Later. When he was ready.

Her kiss was calming and invigorating all at once, and he returned it with almost the same gentle insistence. As it broke, he left his face close to hers, nuzzling her cheek with his own.

After a few moments, he nodded, "I think that's wise, love. She'll be welcome to stay with us on Yavin, and I suspect Master Skywalker is already curious to see if she has any of the...sensitivity to the Force that you do." Rebuilding the Jedi Order was Luke's ultimate goal and one of his driving values. That primarily meant finding those individuals who could use the Force and getting them to Yavin 4. The trait seemed to run in family lines, and if one sibling could use it, the chances the others had some capability were dramatically higher.

"And...I don't think we should send her back to your parents alone." He almost wondered if they could somehow get her brother...but that wasn't a productive line of thought. "Plus, I should get to know my eventual sister-in-law, don't you think?" He kissed the tip of Irina's nose. "When you're ready, we'll go back there and take Lizeth with us. Until then, she will be our guest. And I promise not to kiss her." He then grinned, looking for a few moments like his old self, "Unless it's a threesome, of course."

He sighed, then stood up. He still felt weak. "I think...I think I should try and get some more rest, some more sleep." Hopefully without the dreams. "But I can pull myself together if you want me with you, my heart."

 

[HookerBoots]

She stood with him, and hugged him tightly. "I think I'll be all right, Ramza. I should get used to talking with them on my own, as well as with you." She kissed his cheek again. "And I want you to rest. The sooner you feel better, the sooner we'll both feel better." Irina made sure he was settled in bed and straightened the chair he'd knocked over, and picked up the clothes that had fallen to the floor. She could probably go in what she had on, but she'd feel better changing.

Conscious of him awake behind her, she took off the loose trousers and tunic she was wearing, and the light shoes she'd put on. Then she picked up the belted robe, and slipped it over her head, buttoning it from the waist as she turned around, then fastening the belt. "I'm glad you agree with me, though. Even though I don't know what kind of residence we're talking about sharing, love."

She sat on the bed to slide the light shoes back on - the boots would be insane with this robe - and smiled fondly at him. "Also, Ramza, I'd like a formal proposal at some point. Not right now," she added with a small smile, "but soon. When we're comfortable with each other again, when you . . . are whole again." When you can make love to me again, she wanted to say, but didn't want to make him feel bad again. And she knew it was reasonable, not just given his physical state but also his feelings about her and Traya, but . . . she almost ached to be with him, to feel him inside of her again.

But instead, she leaned forward and kissed him again, hugging him tightly before standing reluctantly. "I shouldn't be too long. Do you want me to bring something to eat back?"