The Laboratory

[Ashlin Li]

She watched acceptance fill the cracked spaces in Julian; memories bridged, pain-lock gone, Julian here. The Jedi telepath felt like she was seeing a shattered, clumsily glued, and shattered-again sphere be rejoined with lines of gold. Ashlin breathed a wordless ‘Thank you’ to the ageless Force that was her namesake.

She still flinched a little from instinct at the quiet whisper of a certain armored voice. But that was just… Julian. He’d winced, too, but he managed it fine and dropped his hands calmly to his sides. They all had their inner voices; that was normal. Ashlin knew without needing to turn around that the separate memory of the defensive Darksider in armor was gone from the room.

“No. I've never been here before. Where are we? The Temple, I get that much....home.”

Ashlin smiled. “I was never here either. This might have been from one of Kel’s memories; but it could be someone else's. Maybe Jas....”

She looked out at the cityscape through one of the huge windows behind Julian. They were in the heart of the Republic on some good day. Ashlin wasn’t at all sure they stood in a recent century, but that wasn’t what mattered. For Julian and the Force, it was home.

“My knighting was battlefield-rules quick. We were offworld at the field base on Metellos right after that… infestation… You were definitely too young for that one though. For Jedi on Coruscant at the Temple, the tradition was always to have them here after a night of meditating. It’s the Knighting Hall”

Ashlin brushed her palm across the two hilts on her belt, and then looked thoughtfully back over the pinkish-tanned Jedi Guardian with his hands at his sides and no weapon near either of them. Taking her younger sister’s lightsaber in hand, she rotated it and held the dark steel-alloy hilt out to Julian with the grip facing him.

“Nomi was on the crew staying awake while the rest of us went into stasis. My blade is different, and I wasn't certain that it would have survived carbon freezing. But besides that, I wanted to leave something watching over her. She gave me hers in exchange, but... You could tell from the way she moved that she was acting on an instinct. — I'm positive it’s yours now.”

The part-Sephi woman grinned wryly. Ashlin didn’t need to glance at her forearm to visualize Erril’s repair work. The jagged lines spiral-fractured into the long bones were neatly welded for now; but she was keenly aware that two malnourished years of Tibanna poisoning, and then another decade of archaic carbon stasis hadn't left her body in a good state for fighting or repairing itself. Julian had already proven his bones were quite a bit stronger at present, and Ashlin didn't need a blade for most of her fighting. If only one of them could be properly armed on the ship, it made much more sense for it to be Julian. Besides; it was right. Ashlin was sure.

Everything else she could think to say was right too, but some of it was a bit harder. She pressed on more quietly. “Also... I was so angry with you last night that I was almost cruel. I made myself do better, but it would have been awful and proved Johnathon right in your mind. I'm sorry about that, Julian... Even if I know we're past it now.”

Ashlin shrugged with an apologetic look, but there wasn't much else to do. She took a breath and everything about her brightened a little as she went on.

“We're... just Jedi, but neither one of us is just a Padawan. The Ashla put your proving ground here. I know you don't love subtlety, but I do and the imagery here is crystal clear... Force knows you passed your trials. I can witness your knighting for you now,” She laughed a little.“Assuming you don't change your mind, or dislike that I'm not a Master... But it's still my right.”

[Julian Orspach]

He stood there silently for a long moment, his eyes scanned the room as Ashlin had begun to speak. She had never been here either, that was clear, but these were memories of others? That didn't make sense did it? Well in going with what made sense and what did not make sense, he might as well just cash it in accept it because nothing seemed to quite fit together nice and neat anymore. Had it ever?

Then she spoke of her Knighting, which was nice, but he was having a hard time figuring out exactly how relevant that wa.....what?! His eyes darted around the room, but he remained still. He had spent his entire life as a Jedi fantasizing about a moment when he would finally enter these halls. His Master would be here, his father, and members of the Jedi Council. It would be a wonderful and joyful ceremony, his braid would be cut with a swift yet potent smell of burnt hair, he would be officially made a Jedi Knight and Guardian of the Republic.

He had made it a strict point to never enter this room, to never discover the secrets it hid until that day, the day that would probably never come. Why was he here?

His purple eyes landed on the saber hilt that Ashlin had rotated towards him. This was Nomi's as Ashlin reaffirmed in her own voice not a heartbeat later. "I'm postive it's yours now." What? This was not at all what he was expecting to happen at the moment. He raised his right hand and took the hilt in a surreal blur. The cold metal sent a chill down his spine as he wrapped his bare hand around it and his eyes scanned the weapon. His hand seemed to fit perfectly in the grip as if it was meant for him, meant for someone who was skilled in it's use. The weapon was the perfect compliment to the swordsman.

As she spoke about being angry with him the night before, shame crept into his aura again, not an overwhelming amount, but enough that it was tangible. He did not lift his eyes from the weapon as he slowly moved to clip it to his belt. His utility belt? He blinked and scanned his clothes, apparently they had changed. Again something that...was a bit different. She was sorry....he was sorry. She had nothing to be sorry about and, he may or may not have deserved any cruelty that she had come to deliver upon him.

He nodded and offered her a half smile and was about to acknowledge her apology and say it was not necessary but then she said it.

She. Said. It.

Everything else was a blur until, "I can witness your Knighting for you now."

My knighting? He thought to himself. His trials. That's why he was here. He passed his trials though?

I'm sorry. My Knighting? I passed my trials? I mean....you....I would be honored. But me? A Jedi Knight? I just spent the last decade as a Sith.

He swallowed hard and tried to find fault in her logic, but it just wouldn't present itself. Everything made sense, he had faced and passed every single Jedi Trial. There was absolutely no doubt in that, he was standing here, in the midst of a telepathic mirage sure, but the Force had put him here.

"I don't know what else to say."

His stomach swirled, his vision blurred. It was beyond surreal, it was that feeling right before something that you have always wanted happens, that feeling that you never lose sight of and that feeling that you never want to forget. It was this moment more than any that would help solidify him as a Jedi...and it was all happening exactly where had envisoned it, but not exactly how he had envisoned it, but that was okay.

[Ashlin Li]

Ashlin caught the edge of Julian’s confusion about whose memories were whose, and carefully restrained herself from grinning at him a little despite everything else. It wasn’t anything important right now. She kept her expression neutral, just watching him as he processed it all.

“You have to say yes or no.”

She realized as she spoke that the tiny earpiece she hadn’t seen in a decade was tucked back into its home in her left ear; just as the speaker chirped at her in a security alert sound. Stern voices spoke at the very edge of her hearing, filtered from her perceptions by time, minds, and barriers enough that they felt distant and far away… But they were there.

The Jedi woman’s hand drifted back to her belt, brushing against a sensor on the edge of her compad so that she and Julian could both hear.

“…will allow ourselves to be taken to him when we are finished…”
::…Your terms are agreeable… caution you to never speak ill of the Great Chancellor again.::
- Silence. -

Ashlin met Julian’s eyes and gave him a tight flicker of a smile. Her palm had settled onto the familiar memory of her own weapon with a pang of calm homesickness. In the physical galaxy, she hoped it was with her sister somewhere and that they were serving each other safe and well. In her memories for a few more heartbeats, she closed her fingers around the silver and ciridium lightsaber hilt between her skin and the precise mechanics that housed the focusing crystal. The heart of her blade had been serving its purpose in the Force for longer than anyone in her remembered lineage had been alive, since ages before any Jedi ever laid the first two stones of the first Temple foundation on Coruscant. She appreciated the reminder sometimes, that the Force and the universe lived long. It was just that she lived now. And she was Jedi.

“It's your choice... And then we find the next right step,” Ashlin said quietly.

[Julian Orspach]

Julian paused in utter bewilderment as she spoke. Did she not know him? His entire life was dedicated to being the best Jedi that he could possibly be....except for the last ten years apparently. Why would he ever say no? Then however he did think about the gravity of the yes or no question. There was so much more to either answer than anyone could have imagined. At this point it would be easier for him on a personal level to say no, to maybe go and live in isolation for the rest of his life to atone for the things that he had done in the last ten years, the sins of the monster, his fault or not still stained his soul, perhaps not as much as if he had done them willingly, but the stain was there never the less. The burden was his to carry, not alone of course, but it still must be dealt with.

Exile? That was a hard thought to swallow, one that didn't take more than a half second to think about. Exile, it was absurd, he was a Guardian, he did not run from his problems like a Consular, he faced them head on and dealt with them through brute force of will. He blinked and dropped to both knees, the answer was simple and obvious, he really had no choice as he already was what he was about to be officially made, denying that truth within him would be a greater sin than anything he had done within the last decade. He took in a deep breath and bowed his head.

"Yes, I wish to walk in the light and continue living my life as a Guardian of the Jedi Order and all the people we serve."

Moments earlier there were voices that were initially drowned out in his own thoughts, but then for some reason they came back to him, first was a familiar voice, a voice of....

"Father? He is here?!"

Then there was the augmented voice, a voice that hours ago was that of a trusted friend, a voice that sunk his mind firmly into reality.

"We need to do this so I can help with....that."

[Ashlin Li]

“Yes.” Ashlin answered every thought Julian had voiced. Very softly, she made the slightest adjustment to her own shields and the careful psychic threads between herself and the other Jedi on the lab table, but her attention was all on Julian.

The chestnut-haired Jedi settled the memory of her lightsaber companionably into her hand while she thought back to her own knighting. She’d been tired; they were all dusty from demolished city quadrant, let alone the usual Metallos smog, and she'd been as recently healed then as she was now — but the memory made her smile quietly; just like every other knighting that she could call to her mind from the years since. “We need to go. But the Force gifted us this minute; so we’ll keep it.”

Snap-hiss. Her lightsaber blade sprang to life in a teal glow, its changing hue gently shifting its way into the green spectrum. The flowing colors were nothing specific to Ashlin’s telepathy; only the natural state of her particular weapon.

“We are Jedi.” Ashlin quietly stated again, this time more from memory. She kept her blade slightly angled toward the floor where Julian had dropped to his knees in the center.

“We serve the Ashla. The Force speaks through us. Through our actions, the Force proclaims itself and what is… real.” Ashlin pursed her lips thoughtfully at the feeling of truth in that, illusions and all, while the vibrant yellow blade in her hand deepened like a Coruscanti sunset.

“Julian Orspach, named Kaini for a time. You are a Jedi...” A mild grin tugged at one corner of her mouth as she added “like your father before you.”

Ashlin brought her lightsaber to hover a hair's breadth above Julian's left shoulder—deep crimson, flowing to—The weapon hummed in her hand while she nearly touched the top of his head.—violet that mirrored his hair, blooming toward indigo, and—She shifted the blade down to his right shoulder—perfect Guardian blue.— Time paused between heartbeats. Julian's blue stayed clear and constant when Ashlin deftly ticked her lightsaber blade up to only just burn the skin behind his ear where there'd been a Padawan braid once.

“By the right of the Jedi before us, and the will of the Force, you are a Jedi Knight”

This was an illusion. She could grab a blade here without losing her hand; but that had still hurt. And it was her illusion, wherein the Healer's daughter made consciously certain that a quickfire flash of heat and nerve-response were both there for Julian's sake; with the same superficial but valid intensity of any small plasma burn. He was a Jedi Knight who'd been pushed further than his tolerance, or past the 'Elevens' scale, more than once in his life. This was nothing. She was a Jedi Knight, and a telepath who understood to her core that a physical memory-marker could mean everything.

The blue energy blade retracted smartly into her lightsaber hilt. Ashlin squeezed the memory in farewell and let her weapon vanish. It wasn't really here; she'd left it to be safe and to safeguard Nomi.

She offered her hand to Julian when he stood up, then let go of him and inclined her head to the half-Zeltron Knight with a small smile. Ashlin breathed in.

“I think the Darkness had better watch out.”

[Erril Winterhold]

The coastline was still, and the sky calm. The sunset which illuminated the world of Erril’s inner mind rested in a perpetual soft glow. He had submitted the shape of his internal landscape to the experiences of another, and the markings showed. A short distance from where the snowy-haired Jedi sat, the sandy shore had been burned and baked into ragged, broken sheets of glass. The fire that burned in the pit before him was not as small as it once had been, but it still rested within the tolerances of the place where it belonged in Erril’s mind.

The Jedi sat quietly, meditating on the flames as they moved. Fire was a teacher in many ways. Fire created; fire destroyed; it both consumed and comforted. Erril felt his heart pound in sympathy as some memory of burning passion and… rage? dejection? Filled the heart of the young Jedi to whom he tended. He knew the adrenaline of combat when he felt it. It was a slow, steady throb of fire in the veins unlike the sudden jolt of a shocking discovery or the painful grinding of a body responding to a wound.

Erril peered down at his open palms. War was a fire that burned on the precipice. One had but to drop it from their hands and it would consume a world in a moment. He wasn’t sure what was being witnessed by Julian and Ashlin on the other side of the veil that divided their mindscapes, but it felt to his honed senses like the rage of battle – a fire that had burned all those involved. He took a steadying breath and willed a portion of courage to the son of his brother. Whatever it was, Erril knew the only way through it was forward.

Though the sun did not move, the shadows grew longer for a time, and Erril felt the knot of anxiety – the bitterness of self-loathing – twist tight inside him. This one was no stranger to the older Jedi.

”We can’t change what we’ve done… we just grow beyond it.”

Erril spent some time meditating on the growth of broken things, pondering the truth implicit in the strength of a healed wound. He was mindful of the brokenness of the cliff face beyond him which sheltered his small fire from the direct sunlight. With each crack, the cliff still stood, showing its age but waning not.

Through his meditative ponderings, there came another thought. This one was unlike his – like the clear tone of a bell against the hum of a taut string. It was a statement, and intent, and a summons. Erril rose quietly from his place in the sand the moment the implications of the wordless notes pressed themselves into his understanding, and followed the thought back to its source beyond the veil of his own mind.

The elder Jedi found himself in a place he’d seen many times throughout the years. A chamber in the Jedi temple on Coruscant. A place of height, and tradition. Before his studious eyes, a woman whose face was known to him stood over the kneeling shape of one whom he recognized, but couldn’t say he truly knew.

Ashlin has walked with Julian on this side of the veil for what could have been moments, or ages; Erril had no way of knowing. But he didn’t truly need to know just then. What he felt in the Hall of Knighting just then was exactly what should be there on such an occasion. A sense of acceptance, humility, and readiness on the part of Julian. A sense of certainty, and a desire to cultivate on the part of Ashlin. He took a few quiet paces forward as she spoke, having a care not to break the solemnity of the moment, and stood perhaps ten paces behind Julian as the young man – one who that very morning had risen into a consciousness plagued by the clinging of the Darkness – was bathed in the shifting glow of Ashlin’s sword and proclaimed a Knight of the Jedi.

Erril’s searching eyes caught Ashlin’s for just a moment as her blade vanished, and he bowed deeply, conveying his approval of her decision, and his respect for her thoughtful mastery that had culminated in the moment he’d just witnessed.

As Julian took Ashlin’s hand and rose to stand before him, Erril regarded the pair of them in the center of the hall with a curious mixture of emotions. A sense of loss, and pride, and hope all mingled together in a rising sensation.

May you both see these days renewed

The elder Jedi strode forward a few steps as Ashlin spoke again, and paused less that five steps away. ”Indeed it should. Now we are four, Julian. The Darkness will begin to shift away from us.”

[Julian Orspach]

His heart raced.
His brain filled with endorphins.
There was no pain
There was the light
There was peace.

Ashlin's words echohed throughout his mind, he heard every last one of them, but the moment seemed to be a blur, an experience that he would look back on for many years to come. It was one of those moments where each movement, each sound, every smell, every sight took on its meaning. Every moment within the moment was an experience that meant something.

He felt the heat of the blade against his skin behind his right ear, it was not something he flinched away from, even as the smell of singed hair and flesh filled his nostrils.

“By the right of the Jedi before us..."

There were so many before him, so many that had come and gone, but all went through this sacred ceremony in one way or another. His mind drifted to Qareth, his heart was heavy as he saw her face before his eyes as if she was standing their in front of him right this moment. He did not see her lifeless body lying down on the ground in the rain, no he saw her here and now. He smiled at him, a sense of pride present in her eyes, she gave him a nod and wink and with that she disappeared.

A single tear rolled down his pimk cheek, not one of grief, but one of joy. She was at peace, she was free of the burdens that he was taking on and finally she could rest in peace as he took up her mantle. His lips moved and he mouthed the words

"I'll never forget you Qareth."

As the same time Ashlin's sentence finished.

...and the will of the Force, you are a Jedi Knight.”

It happened, after all these years. All the trials and tribulations, it finally happened. He swallowed heard and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Reflecting back on his time in the prison of darkness, the time at the temple, the arguments with Rave, and the battles at the temple. He opened his eyes to see Ashlin's hand and he took it and stood up and smiled at her, a typical Julian smile that had left him long ago, and now finally found it's way back to him.

"Darkness always runs to hide when the light shows up..."

He turned to see Erril and his smile wideneded, he looked between the two of them and bowed his head.

"Thank you both, I never could've found my way back without you."

The scene faded and there was a jarring shock as he took in a deep breath and his purple eyes shot open as he lay flat on the table. He flexed his fingers numerous time's the stickyness of the blood that had not yet dried alarmed him for a brief moment before he remembered. He felt the stinging sensation behind his right and ear and the smile returned to his face. He brought his hand up and wiped some sweat from his brow.

"I think...you guys can get off me now."

[Ashlin Li]

Erril’s eyes caught hers for a moment. Julian smiled. They shared a last few words. For two more heartbeats, Ashlin drank in a memory of the warm sunlight on her hair from the huge Temple windows, like a bracing gift of strength from the Force.

Breathe out.

She dismantled layers and latices of mental work, unbuilding Coruscant, and dispelling a million clusters of empathic threads that bridged synaptic pathways between herself and Julian. With her consciousness entirely her own again, she brushed the aftermath of fragmented new memory sets into safe new places for them in her mind, and deftly restored her own shields.

In the Crusader’s laboratory, Ashlin swallowed and drew from that well of gifted Force energy for a moment while she managed a headache and willed her swimming vision back into her control.

"I think...you guys can get off me now."

Her nostrils flared in a quiet snort of amusement, and she let Julian’s comment ground her to reality.

The Healer’s daughter reached down and picked the saline IV needle from Julian’s forearm before he did something exasperating like pull it out the wrong way. She squeezed the half-Zeltron’s shoulder in sisterly fashion, then slid down from the metallic restraint table that she didn’t especially hope to spend any more time touching.

“Don’t mind the glass and armor bits on the floor,” she informed him in her mildest-mannered tone that felt fitting for battlefield quips and infirmary management. “Your dad must have managed to keep all the staff away, so no one’s been around to clean up yet…”

Once Julian was upright, Ashlin took his lightsaber hilt from her makeshift belt and passed it to him. It felt odd to be without the reassuring weight of one, but her mind was still perfectly sure of it.

Her focus had already shifted to Erril. Ashlin found herself quietly rubbing her repaired wrist while she moved near the foot of the table and took in the state of the elder Jedi… his hair darker from sweat, the soaked shirt, the cortisol levels, all the marks from recent strain in him… Despite it all, his eyes were still registering that new hazel color to her, but she supposed it wasn’t important for now.

She waited until she had Erril's gaze, then rolled her eyes briefly toward Julian and then back to Erril with the faintest smile and a little mist in her vision. Whatever exactly he’d held back or filtered from them at his side of the gap, for however much time he'd experienced, it had worked.

Ashlin unknotted the long folded-over bit of fabric that she’d tied over her shirt like an obi belt the day before. It was just a strip of cloth that she’d cut from the bed linen a few hours before last night’s ‘dinner’, but it was dry and clean enough that she offered it to Erril.

“We seem to have the run of the room… I have no objections if you want to use that shower again,” she told him quietly with a rueful smile. “You have first dibs; unless Arty’s gotten covered in blood or something.”

[Erril Winterhold]

Something shifted as Julian faded from the Hall of Knighthood. Erril’s calm smile had been intended for the newly appointed knight, and it loosened as he disappeared. Ashlin began to fade as well under the gaze of the Jedi’s grey eyes. He knew the reality their minds inhabited would come apart soon, and so his feet shifted, carrying him across the cool stones of the temple hall to the window where the deep orange of sunset bathed Coruscant in its glow. In the stillness of his own mind, still in the deep well of a healer’s trance, the whole of time shifted in heavy slowness. The hues of the setting sun illuminated the skyline and mesmerized him for a moment… it had been so long. His eyes scanned over the buildings for a place he knew – an apartment in the distance where his family had known peace for a few precious years. It wasn’t there.

This wasn’t the Coruscant Erril knew. Something was wrong about it. The energy of the City-world hadn’t changed in a millennium, but it’s features had, and something was different. His gaze regarded the shape of the city critically for a single long moment and found the key he sought. The Skydome was absent. The massive spaceport that had been build during the Clone Wars to support the needs of a fleet in constant flux, was missing. This memory was old… older than Erril.

What else had changed since then? Erril began to count small changes, things that had come and gone since the era of the Old Republic. Just the like Jedi… What else had changed since then?

The elder Jedi’s gaze turned back to the hall behind him as Ashlin faded away as well. What else had changed? The perfect clarity of the illusion faded without the filter of the younger woman’s keen mind to render the small details, but Erril’s mind grasped at his own dimmer recollection of it. He was alone in his own mind now, but his eyes swung back to the horizon.

What else had changed?

What have we done…

If Johnathon had been allowed to rise up unhindered, what else had become of the galaxy without the Jedi to tend it? Even their slowly growing numbers had been a much-needed force for good in the galaxy. Without any shepherds… what else had changed?

The glow of the sunset faded from the grasp of Erril’s mind, but something held him in place as he tried to shift upward to his conscious self. A biting darkness that clung to his mind like a heavy weight on the hem of a cloak. Something had changed – something… shifted.

A terrified scream filled the night air. Others joined it. They belonged to children.

A malevolent darkness pursued them down a foreboding path, which ended with no turn. No escape.

Ethereal hands of blackness reached from the shadows to clutch it’s victim.

A child emerged from the others, fearful and brave, to place herself between her companions and the coming dark.

Her mind was made up.

Hazel eyes blinked open, and took in nothing for a moment. Darkness and light still echoed in Erril’s mind in equal parts, and he didn’t know what to do with either of them – he’d never been gifted with visions of foresight. He could only focus on what was before him right now. The vision had come to him twice now, but it would have to wait.

He glanced up and found himself staring into Ashlin’s waiting gaze. When those eyes shifted, he followed them to where Julian stood collecting himself, and a sense of calm settled his churning soul. They had done good work. This was where they were now, and this was where needed to be. One of four. He glanced back to Ashlin and reflected her smile, accepting the fold of cloth with a murmur of thanks. His eyes swept the laboratory quickly and confirmed that Arty had done his job well.

Glancing on in the direction of the refresher, Erril’s stomach felt resentment for a moment. An unexpected swirl of emotions welled up within him, and he almost turned away, but he didn’t. He could let his emotions overcome him and give himself over to rash actions that would ripple ahead of him, or he could master his soul now, and be stilled for the next challenge.

”I think I will, now that you mention it. Seems like a logical next step.”

Erril cast a wry grin at Ashlin and slipped carefully off the far side of the lab table. Pausing to pay Arty a confident smile and nod of thanks, he stepped off into the refresher to peel off his sweat-soaked robes.

[Julian Orspach]

He felt the squeeze on his shoulder, it sent a wave of peace surging through his weary body, he was happy to have this new bond with Ashlin, he smiled up at her and his hand tightened around the lightsaber, and he clipped it instinctively to his belt. His hand knew exactly where to go, then it became clear. As he stood up there was a crunching sound beneath his feet as the armored boots fell heavy on the broken glass bits on the floor. His body, still clad in most of his Sith apparel and armour. His torso was still covered in the sticky and soaked in sweat black turtle kneck he wore under his cloak and armour, his hair was dishevled, he looked a bit peckish, and there we was, a Jedi Knight in all the glory. He chuckled silently to himself at the thought. Those days at the temple where we had undertaken great pains to look as professional as possible, to project an aura of calm leadership and here he stood a new Knight that looked as if he had just fallen out of a speeder and gotten trampled by a bantha.

The reality of situation was starting to set in, in truth he'd have preferred a change of clothes, it was one thing that he was drenched in sweat, sooner or later that was not going to smell good, but his clothing clashed with who he was at this point, it sent the wrong signal. His purple eyes caught sight of the prison that enslaved him, the ebodiment of his darkness, his helmet. There it was sitting innocently on the table, it could not hurt anyone at this point, but the sight of it was enough to send a small chill down his spine, a reminder that despite the events that had just taken place and the various visions, all of it was real. It was sobering to think of that for a moment, if not to dwell on it, but to ponder it's meaning and the place it would eventually have in his life.

There was talk of a shower and just as he was about to raise his hand and shout something to the effect of "Dibs!" Erril moved towards the refresher, that was only fair, he had done something for Julian, something that Julian could not have ever asked anyone to do, something that he doubted he could ever fully repay either. It was a thought, he was indebted to both Ashlin and erril, but somehow he thought that repayment was not expected. He smiled in acknowledgement of this thought.

Then there was the thought of his father, there was a lingering shame, one that had mostly subsided, but you do not simply slash your father's face with a lightsaber not feel shame, Jedi Knight or not. He saw him over there, standing there guarding the room, guarding him. Fufilling every role father would be expected to fill, at least so he thought, he did not yet know the burdens of parenthood, nor did he know if he would ever know that joyous burden. One thing was for certain, he knew he was glad to have Arty as his father, he wondered if he would have made it this far had he not, in fact he strongly suspected that he would have died long ago defending the temple.

"Thank you all again."

That said, he did not move towards Arty, he was strong, but perhaps no strength was strong enough to will his body to go over and hug his father, it was not his move, it was Arty's he knew that was the case, he was overthinking a bit. He stopped and abruptly grounded himself in the moment and shut his emotions off.

"Whose at the door Father? Is it Captain Sha'reh and his men?"

[Arty Orspach]

His blue blade retreated into the comfort of it's matte black home. The weapon and the shield was clipped to the belt with a satisfying sound and the Jedi knight took a deep breath as the doors had closed behind the guards. He nodded at the situation and debated for a brief moment returning to the battle meditation when heard a commotion.

"....you guys can get off me now."

That was JULIAN'S voice.

The very next thing he knew, Erril was passing by him on the way to the refresher and then his eyes caught sight of him. Julian standing there, his son. His own son standing there, and he was most definitely NOT a Sith anymore. Arty swallowed hard and his pupils dilated as they took in the image of his son clad in black, much the way that he himself had always dressed. He let out a sigh of relief, but felt the shame in Julian's aura. Immediately he closed the distance between himself and Julian and threw his arms around the shorter Jedi in a hug. His arm buried Julian's face into his shoulder and he sobbed tears of joy as he dare not let his son go, he had heard the question prior to embracing him, the question was one that was relevant but it could wait for a brief moment.

"I..thought I'd lost you my son!"

He ruffled Julian's purple hair and backed away for a second and smiled at the younger Jedi.

"I...didn't catch the name of the the idiots who came in, red armour. He muttered something about going to take us to see the exalted supreme jackass or something of that nature when Erril and Ashlin were done with you."

He smiled once again at Julian, acknowledging the shame he felt in his son's aura.

"It's okay, you fight quite well, Erril fixed me anyway, but you're not off the hook, we're sparring....not now obviously, but later."

[Ashlin Li]

She kept her eyes on Erril’s back for a few seconds while he stepped away from the lab table; her smile fading into a calmer expression. When she had concluded that the thin elder healer was aright, Ashlin glanced at Julian just long enough to brush his senses with a small pulse of understanding emotion, and then tactfully made herself scarce.

Taking up her small bag of belongings, the part-Sephi woman made her way to the work sink and activated the hot water. She propped her elbows against the edge of the countertop and slowly rubbed at her temples until the edge was gone from her headache. She breathed in the warm air and watched the novelty of unused water flowing down the drain. A second hot shower in as many days would have been paradise compared to any amenity on that dead shell of a planet she’d spent the past two years on with Arty, Erril, and the others… But for her part, Ashlin wasn’t especially comfortable with the reality of armed guards waiting around outside the door for them all anyway.

She deftly cleaned up at the sink, still savoring the effortless access to soap and hot water. After plaiting her damp hair back into the long braid she often preferred — a little less intricate than her mother’s four-stranded version — the thirty year old Sentinel drank a glass of water, and considered her next priorities. She'd kept half an ear pricked towards the father and son’s quiet conversation behind her. Like the typical Guardians they were, the pair had moved on to chatting something about training duels. It made her smile.

“Just be careful about challenging him to an arm wrestle. He’s obnoxious.” she glanced over and told Arty with a faint grin.

Speaking of that… Sith laboratory or not, this was still essentially an infirmary. Kaytren’s daughter had been navigating places of medicine since before she could toddle without holding onto a gurney, and she'd always found them to be more or less cut from the same pattern. Ashlin pursed her lips and located a simple splint from a supply cabinet. She fastened the light plasteel brace over her repaired left wrist; feeling a bit better with the support in case circumstances required her test Erril’s welding job against her nutrient sapped bones.

Feeling satisfied, Ashlin Faithe carried on with her next steps.

* * *

A few minutes later, the metal restraint table was living a new life as a kitchen countertop. It held a small pile of snack bars that she’d scavenged from a staff pantry drawer. One of the scientist’s mugs, tea collection, and water kettle had been appropriated and put to good use. Arty and Ashlin each held a hot cup of a red leaf tea that had pleased her, and there was a third steeping on the lab table with a curl of steam. (Julian evidently preferred to drink water at the moment, which had caused Ashlin to incredulously question his Knighthood out loud.) None of it had taken long, and all three were discussing specifics of the ship behind the reasonably private ’Move along’ suggestion of another mind trick.

“Please don’t tell me that Sha'reh is another youngling?” Ashlin asked with a sigh. “Not that it’s any better if he’s not.”

[Erril Winterhold]

Unknowingly, Erril’s thought process reflected that of the other healer present in the lab, the only difference being that in his old age he’d apparently come to value hot showers over bodily wellbeing. Still, it was, perhaps, slightly higher on the “need” list for Erril at that particular moment. Away from the eyes of the others he let his guard down and ceased resisting the shivering that had worked its way into his limbs. He stood in the hot water for a couple of minutes with his head pressed against the cool wall, breathing deeply and assuring his nerves that the struggle was over. It had been easy to detach himself from the residual nervous impulses within the walls on his own inner sanctum and within the vale of Ashlin’s beautifully perfect illusion, but this the real world. His nerves had experienced real pain, and in no small quantity.

Even so, the pain had been only a empathetic grounding. There had been no bodily trauma, and there was no legitimate reason for Erril’s nerves to continue being riled up, so he made them calm down, one breath at a time. He also made a conscious effort not to worry about the vision he’d experienced – only the third time in his 63 years that he’d received a premonition. He distracted himself with a grounding exercise instead.

Glancing around the refresher, Erril counted five things that he could see, and then four things that he could feel, three things that he could hear… the snowy-haired Jedi grinned, shutting off the flow of water. The grounding exercise had been programmed into his head very concretely at this point, but he could hear as much as he could see which defeated the purpose of having that particular sense placed so low on the grounding count. In that moment he had caught the voices of the three knights in the other room – a lefthanded smile creased Erril’s face as he consciously noted Julian among the knights… and perhaps also an amendment to that list as well. There was something about tea being steeped, which delighted his sensibilities on a creature level even deeper than the prospect of a hot shower. Oh how he had missed hot tea.

As he stepped out of the shower and whisked the water out of his revitalized clothes, Erril tuned his ears more carefully to the conversations going on in the other room. He grinned when he heard the titular reexamination being leveled against Julian for his reticence to drink tea. A quality amongst all truly cultivated knights, to be sure. Having redressed himself, Erril exited the refresher feeling, well… refreshed, and rejoined the other Jedi, scooping his cup of tea off the table with a glance of furtive gratitude leveled on Ashlin. He wanted to comment on the importance of balanced appreciations for different styles of beverages in the interest of self-cultivation – maybe make some slighting comment about Kaytren’s dogged adherence to coffee – but he didn’t want to butt in on the conversation of the two younger Jedi. He’d find a moment to stand on his tea box later. Instead he leaned against the table and shared a delighted smile across the table with Arty. Such a profound moment of calm they had stumbled into while he was away.

[Julian Orspach]

As the time had passed, which of course it did in a typical blurry fashion of this particular day, he found himself with Ashlin and his father relaxing and trying to make light of the situation. He of course participated and chuckled a couple times back and forth, his lower half still clad in Sith armour and his uper half still in a slowly drying compression turtleneck. He sipped on his now third glass of water, IV or not he was still thirsty and a bit dehydrated, that situation was slowly remedying itself.

He shook his head a bit at the absurdity of the situation as he leaned against the exame table, the very exam table where all of this had begun and ended years and hours ago. He looked at Ashlin who was now questioning his Knighthood over his choice to drink water instead of tea. He laughed and smiled at her.

"First off, I just almost died. If the shock didn't do it, the dehydration would have. So I think that a cool, pure water beverage is probably a tiny bit better for my system now than a steaming hot red liquid of dubious orgins."

Then she brought up Sha'reh, a sobering reminder that did ground him a bit more in the reality of the situation. She had to bring that up right this second, even if it was done in a light hearted manner it was something that he was not sure he knew how to deal with. His eyes leveled between her and his father as Erril entered.

"No, he's not a youngling, but that doesn't make his story any better. He's a few years younger than me, his file is in the system over there which...well access in this room has probably been cut already. So I could give you the short version."

He finished off his water and set the glass down on the table.

"He's not evil, he's misguided. He joined when he was in his mid teens, he lied about his age. Anyway, from what I know, his parents were killed when a bomb went off as part of a cartel hit. They weren't the targets, just innocent bystanders in a bombing, he was very young when it happened. All he knew is that he got dropped off at daycare, just like any other day and except on that day, his parents never came to pick him up. Instead he wound up in an orphanage and as I said, ran away in his teens and joined the military. Johnathon hand picked him to be in the Sith Elite troopers a few years later due to his obvious talents. He was assigned to me almost immediately upon me arriving, his whole unit was classified, the general public knows nothing of the Elite troopers, they just show up. Anyway, he was with me that night.

Julian offered a half smile, not wanting the conversation to shift too seriously, but she did ask.

"We're...somewhat close. I trained him a bit in lightsaber combat, he's no Jedi but he could hold his own. He's done bad things, but he's not a bad person. He just wants to make things right, he wants the type of people like those who killed his parents to pay for their crimes...and he's not wrong. He's just being used..."

[Ashlin Li]

“Got it, thank you,” Ashlin acknowledged Julian’s summary of Sha’reh with the same faint, sad, yet calm and empathetic, half-smile expression that she’d found her features slipping back to in what felt like a thousand different moments since she’d found anything worth smiling about on this ship.

She didn’t wish to change their relaxed tone too drastically yet either—it felt too precious, and too needed to let go of just yet, so the chestnut haired woman simply drifted into quiet. She soaked in the heat of her tea mug for a few heartbeats in time, pulling the kinetic energy through her thin hands deeper into her bones. Once she had Julian’s description for reference, it was easy to scan back through what she’d witnessed of that deadly night in the rain and find the armored Sha’reh in her mind’s eye. She synapsed that image and description to a few other memory fragments that had remained with her, building a small profile of the young captain… There’d been a great deal of… Sith military actions in his time under Julian… But there was also some quipping conversation about preferred firearms, a shared laugh that didn’t feel particularly cruel… each other's lives saved… hours of training… Not much backstabbing from what she could tell. The guards had been soldiers; not apprentices.

Ashlin’s gaze drifted to meet Erril’s when he joined them; catching his thankful look when he scooped up her offering of tea. He looked so much better, that she made herself breath in through her nose to distract herself from becoming teary eyed again. Ashlin offered Erril her favorite new smile, looked away while she sipped from her mug, and turned back to Julian.

“They’re all being used. I don’t think you’re going to break through to him in front of anyone else. He’ll feel betrayed by you just like the rest, and he can't risk hesitating over you. If you can show Sha'reh the truth... as long as he doesn’t force us into killing him, it might plant enough doubt that he'll ripple it into the rest of your guards later.”

She didn’t feel very satisfied with the strategy. But either way, Sher’ah didn’t strike her as the gateway to an escape plan, so Ashlin let the subject drop for the moment.

“Also, we’ve all nearly died—Except possibly you, Arty… that seems wildly unlike you, so I'm skeptical… but you’ve been a great example of health lately and it’s made me feel envious of your usually much less interesting genetics. Anyway, life is too fleeting to not drink tea, Julian. We missed it.”

Ashlin glanced at Erril, feeling bemused about the racial heritage she had in common with him, but she knew perfectly well that she wasn’t technically related to the elder and more Sephi healer.

“Welcome back,” she told Erril in a warmer tone, gratefully meeting his gaze with a much more confident expression this time. “We decided that black washes Julian out, and that Arty looks awkward in anything but. It's a shame they're not the same size. We're almost ready for our favorite psychopath Sith again, but it would help if anyone could think of a plan… Erril. Before we start gambling that none of us die, will you please tell me what you've done to your eyes?”

[Arty Orspach]

"Yeah my exotic Coruscant native genetics must count for something."

Remarking on his genes, caused his mind to drift if only for a moment to his parents. They were definitely elderly at this point and it had been many years since had seen them. He silently wondered to himself if they were safe. While he was on world at Coruscant he could go visit them on a weekly basis, they must have thought he was dead. The Elder knight sighed to himself and hoped that if they were gone, that they did not die thinking that their only son had died.

He collected himself and then smirked at Ashlin, looking over to Julian for a brief moment, who was unsurprisingly the most fit Jedi in the room.

"Then again, Guardians were always stronger, so that helps."

He of course heard his son speaking of the guard, but he was much less interested than Ashlin, as far as he was concerned anyone culpable in Julian's Sith related activities was a lost cause. Not that he knew that for an absolute fact, but he was still rather....perturbed about the entire situation. In fact no one had bothered to explain osik to him...YET! Whatever. He thought to himself, they'd tell him eventually, and if they weren't telling him now there was a reason for it....likely up to and including the fact that if it was a rather horrible thing that had happened to Julian, Arty was more than likely to hang the so called chancellor with his own entrails...or at least that's what the other Jedi probably thought. He wondered to himself if he really deserved that reputation? NO. No he did not exactly, he was decisive and acted swiftly, if that was a bad thing then they could ask questions later. His mind was drifting again.

He sipped his tea as Erril sat down and exchanged glances with him. He silently wondered if his former Master had that opinion of him too, or if he understood who he was and accepted it. It must be the latter, he thought, otherwise you never would have been knighted....DUH. Then there was the electrified door....that never....happened. Was there no alcohol on this damn ship? He sipped his tea again and smiled at Erril.

"So...Erril..."

He cracked his knuckles, his robotic hand was much less satisfying than his natural one. He then gave Erril a sheepish grin.

"I vote that next time we freeze ourselves in carbonite, one of takes a bottle of something so that when we wake up in the dystopian re-incarnation of the Galactic Empire, we have something to take our minds off the situation."

[Erril Winterhold]

It was one of those strange moments where two bits of conversation broke into Erril’s attention at the same relative moment. Arty’s comment resonated with him deeply, and he found himself wistfully recalling the lovely selection of strong beverages Leyana had always kept in their apartments of Coruscant. A respectable liquor cabinet was maintained for guests who preferred a more bracing drink, including most of their Mandalorian connections. But far closer to Erril’s heart – as well as Arty’s he recalled to his delight, something the man had come by honestly – Leyana also curated a lovely little closet off the side of the kitchen with a gentle amber light in the ceiling where an array of wines and champagnes were kept for impressing more “refined” guests.

It hardly took refinement to appreciate a good wine though, Erril reflected. Just a sensible pallet. Even on the nexus world they had managed to… Ashlin’s question had registered in his ears, but the connecting of thoughts had drawn it in. He grinned at her, rubbing a finger gently at the outer corner of his right eye, and his gaze shifted back to Arty.

“It’s a real shame we didn’t know how things were going to transpire there at the end by the nexus or we could have saved a few bottles of Master Tormund’s wine. Do you remember that beautiful red he spent so much time working on? I think that was his sanity project.”

As he spoke, the elder Jedi’s eyes began to change, deepening from the gentle yellow earthiness of hazel into the darkness of a wine-red color. By the end of his sentence, Erril’s eyes were the same color that Tormund’s wine had been the day he’d shared it around, some… 14 year ago? A lifetime ago, really. Erril’s eyes swiveled back to Ashlin and he smirked.

“Whenever I focus really hard on beverages I’ve drunk in the past, my eyes change color to match the memory. See watch.”

The elder of the two sentinels, still wearing a hint of a left-hand smile, lifted the waiting mug to his lips and gingerly sipped at the hot liquid. It was still delicious, and welcome, and almost novel at this point in time considering that he’d been drinking nothing but moisture-vaporated air for the last two years that he could recall. As the warm tea rolled down his throat, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of the vapors. When he opened them again, his eyes were the same soft amber color as the tea in his cup.

“See? Magic. Mission could have told you I have magic eyes.”

Erril chuckled and winked at Julian as Ashlin huffed and pursed her lips at him, clearly refusing to be baited by his parlor trick.

“No, actually Arty would be the one to tell the tale.” He glanced back at the next oldest of the four Jedi who’d once been his padawan. “Do you remember that tattoo parlor we went to a couple years before you were knighted? Strange place, felt like something between a doctor’s office and a high end day spa. Anyway, I sank about five years’ worth of patent earnings into it. They custom-made it just for me.”

Reaching up, Erril gently drew down his lower right eyelid to better expose the iris in the surgical light of the laboratory. Doing his best to hold his eye open, Erril focused for a moment and shifted the color of his right eye to a pale green – the tingling sensation caused his eye to well up with moisture and he quickly blinked it away.

“It’s a silicon-based prismatic ink. Had it tattooed right into my irises, and I shift the molecules telekinetically to create different colors. It took some practice to get it right but it’s handy. I can even do impressions now.”

The part-sephi Jedi blinked a couple of times, and then shot a stern glare at Arty. His eyes were red, with an inner ring of bright yellow circling his pupils. He held the glare just long enough to see if he could get a reaction from his former padawan, but then he turned back to Ashlin and shrugged, a friendly smile spreading back across his face as he sipped his tea again. His eyes were back to their natural grey by the time he glanced back up from his cup.

“Nothing as special as your talents, my dear… and certainly less of a mystery than our uh, favorite psychopath Sith, to be sure.”

Erril swirled his tea thoughtfully for a moment, watching the amber liquid swirl and smelling the aromatic vapors. His first instinct was the ignore the summons, slip back into the halls and find a way to smuggle the carbon-frozen Jedi off the Crusader, even if it meant creating a distraction somewhere else. He strongly disliked the idea of dealing with Johnathon face to face, especially the idea of trying to negotiate with him. Killing him was an option… Erril glanced up from the tea in his hand for a moment and stole a casual glance across the faces around him. He’d already said it – they were four now. If he killed Johnathon that number would shrink before the day’s end. The tea swirled on.

After a few more pensive moments, Erril inhaled and let out a weighty sigh through his nostrils, feeling some disgust with his own logic. His properly grey eyes traced upward to settle on Julian.

“If we ask, will he let us leave?”

[Julian Orspach]

They were all being used and they had been...betrayed...by him. He pondered that thought for moment before acknowledging it in any noticible way. There was a sense of guilt, a sense of guilt that really should not exist, but it did. He felt mildly guilty for betraying his men, even if it was the right thing to do, it was still a betrayal to them, and it would be painful for them. He had learned a long time ago at the temple, that people's perception of you was their reality. He thought on this and sipped his water and nodded silently to Ashlin. She had mentioned other things as well, including potentially killing them, he really hoped that it would not come to that. They were people too, but if they did not give an alternative....they were Jedi after all and Jedi killed. Jedi killed every single day, but never in malice, it was different. Do not mourn those who go on to live with the force, rejoice for their peace. This was of course true of light sided individuals and good people in the entire galaxy, but he wondered what would become of his men if they died with the stain of the Sith on their hearts. He hoped that wouldn't happen, he hoped that he could give them another chance, a chance to redeem themselves and begin the path to healing.

"Yeah. If we can avoid killing him and them, that would be prefferable to me."

The remarks regarding his father's immortality were not lost on him, but he just offered a silent grin once again as Erril began to speak, because even as he was talking Julian was contemplating. He knew where the other Jedi were, he knew how many were here and what the grand plan was for them or at least the plan that was shared with him. Was that even an accurate plan or was it a deception? He could never tell with Johnathon, the man was an enigma and he had layers to every single thing he did, even his interactions with Kaini were at times so muddied that he had trouble understanding what was expected of him.

It took a moment of talking about wine, which caused his ears to perk up out of curioisity for moment. The Nexus? He would have to ask about whatever that place was later, there were a lot of other questions at hand that were far more pressing than where the Jedi wandered off to so many years ago.

Erril's eyes settled on him and Julian's eyes caught his, purple met grey and it looked as if there was going to be poignant statement or...no a question that was formulating and waiting to materialize itself into words. He had already been thinking and he had come to a silent conclusion and then Erril spoke.

"If we ask, will he let us leave?"

Would he? Julian's eyes stayed locked onto Erril's for many moments and he set the glass of water down on the table, it was prespiring just as much as he was not long ago, cool droplets on the outside of the glass rolled down and puddled around it's base. Julian rubbed his thumb and index finger together thoughtfully as if all the gears in his head were turning at once. Would Johnathon let them leave? He might. There were never any plans to keep them or kill them so far as he knew, in fact they went to every effort imaginable to preserve their lives, killing them would be a fundamental waste of resources and would have been much easier two days ago than it is now. Johnathon wanted something, that much was clear to Julian.

He took in a deep breath and ran his pinky through the water around the base of the glass. It was a Zeltron thing, noticing the small things and experiencing each moment as if it was it's own eternity, each moment that mattered anyway and the Force was telling him that this moment mattered, what he said next mattered. So he had to think on it, he had to ponder the meaning of everything that had transpired. Once he did that, he rememberd his leadership as a Padawan at the temple, the selfless courage that he had to display at all times, especially during an attack. It would have been nothing for him to lay down his life on the alter of peace and sacrifice himself for the protection of the order, it was something that could happen at any moment.

He exhaled through his nose, and looked down at the table again, all of this transpiring in only a few seconds, but he savored those seconds for what felt like hours before he raised his eyes again and met Erril's stare, his expression was resolved, his trademarked smile absent from his face.

"I can ask him. You can go get the pods and make your way to the hangar with the others. I'll go to Johnathon and I'll ask him."

He blinked for moment and his intent was clear, there was nothing but light in his aura, it was clear, his thinking was not clouded by emotion, but his duty at least in his mind was clear.

"I'll buy you time to make your escape and then I'll take care of him."

A faint smile formed on his face, his eyes glistened in the surgical light, it was his duty ot protect others, it always had been and if he could get the others to safety, his life was a small price to pay for that, they had already saved him. If the worst would happen, he would join with the force and find everlasting peace. This was not the outcome he desired, not the one that he would have chosen first, but it felt like the right thing, it felt like it was his duty, even if he did sort of quietly hope to himself that there was another option.

"You've already saved me, its my turn now."

[Ashlin Li]

Smiles faded. All of the quipping and lightness had done its work in them, but they’d turned the page.

Ashlin felt a pang in the pit of her stomach when Erril voiced a question that she’d started turning discontentedly around in her thoughts. The woman’s eyes flicked briefly towards Arty, but then she settled her gaze between the eldest and youngest Jedi in the room.

Julian set his water glass down on the restraint table. Ashlin watched the pink-complexioned Jedi become as still and silent as she could fathom him being; there was just the slightest shifting of his fingers. He breathed out, finally, and then she watched his features settle into a resolved expression.

Oh... Julian.

By the time the half-Zeltron had started speaking, Ashlin found the practiced neutrality of her shields tested from within. It felt half maddening holding herself back from interrupting the younger Jedi she'd poured so much of her energies into in such a short time, but she made herself hear Julian out. Her mug felt cool against her palms, and she realized wryly that she'd drawn all the heat out of her tea. Ashlin sipped anyway.

No — grateful pride — immediate veto — No.

The instant he’d finished: she let the calmed, but still steel-solid tone of her reaction flare ahead of her spoken voice into the small group's conversation.

Her vocal chords caught up with her thoughts as she continued “Julian... Thank you—No.—That's not the way this time. Johnathon is a precognitive who's seen your mind inside and out. He's watched you hone all your reflexes. You're stronger than you or I know, but you're not going to out-wit him by yourself less than ten hours after he had you last. You won't let him keep you, so then you'll die whether you take him with you or not. But there's already too much else in motion, and it doesn't help us. Besides...”

Her gaze slid to Arty and then Erril. She smiled wrly. Ashlin hadn't quite decided whether either of them would agree with her reasoning or not, but maybe that didn't matter. She was here anyway. “I'm more of the negotiator. If we commit to the 'distract' him idea, then I'll go with you.”

[Erril Winterhold]

A deep breath, and then the plunge. The mirth had been real, and needed, but with only a few words spoken aloud it had all been carried away on the winds of the reality that was their situation. Erril felt Julian’s presence become dense with the weight of his concerns, and he sensed that it wasn’t an unaccustomed burden either. He didn’t feel impatient as the younger Jedi took the necessary time and pondered what was at stake. Nor, truly, was he surprised by the conclusion Julian reached in the end.

It was out of the question, of course, but Erril admired Julian no less for the impossibility of what he suggested. Erril had been young once, and his heart had been full of desire to go, and be, and do – if the task was demanding or dangerous, all the more reason it should be Erril rather than someone else. Someone whose wellbeing he could preserve by his actions.

Nerve impulses coursed from Erril’s brain to his body. His hand meant to reach up and come to rest on the back of the other Jedi’s neck in a gentle, fatherly gesture, the way he had with Julian’s own father so many times over a span of years. His tongue meant to assure Julian that his grateful heart had chosen the noble path, and that his day would come, but that it wasn’t this day. Erril meant to do all these things, but Ashlin spoke first. And she spoke truth.

The elder Jedi had already begun opening his mouth to speak, so he pressed his tongue against his lower lip simply to carry through with the motion as Ashlin spoke her mind and stated the concerns that undoubtedly played out in the minds of the others as well – he absently perceived the bitterness of lingering dehydration, and the aromatic notes of steeped black tea. Erril's steel eyes cast back and forth between the two younger Jedi, and shared a furtive glance with Arty as well. In the end, Ashlin’s suggestion caused the barest hint of a left-handed smile to trace across Erril’s lips.

”I have no doubt the two of you would keep him well-occupied for some time if you wanted. But there’s unnecessary peril in any scenario where we don’t act as one.”

The elder Jedi’s grey eyes shifted from Ashlin to Julian. “I think you understand the gravity of what’s at stake here very well. But if that’s true then I need you to also understand that you’re a part now as well. I won’t concede any loss of life today.”

Gazing across the other three, Erril took in slow breath and let it back out. ”There’s no upper hand to be gained today, though. Johnathon holds too many of the cards. The whole order is hanging on our actions right now, so we can only play for time. We need his blessing to leave, or it will be impossible to save the others. But… simple plans are often best. All we have to do is find out what he wants, and deny it to him for today. Let him loosen our leash, and then outwit him another day.”

As if a delayed signal had finally be received, Erril’s hand reached up and clasped Julian’s shoulder, shaking him gently as if to ground them both in the moment. ”Darkness has no recourse but to fade away in the face of Light. Come on, you’ll see.”

With a wink at the newly knighted Jedi, and a rallying glance at the two more seasoned of his family, Erril pivoted away from the table, and made his way to the door of the laboratory. The doors slid open in response to his presence, and he strode between the waiting guards – his sharp grey eyes caught the visor the one in red, making note of his presence in the Force. ”Your patience is appreciated gentlemen. I think we’ve kept our host waiting long enough, though.”

Erril didn’t know what waited for them down the hall, but he knew one thing for certain. They were four now. It wasn’t chance that had brought them together, and it wouldn’t be chance that brought them to the day’s end. The Force was their ally.

[Arty Orspach]

"If he asks will he let us leave? You've already saved me, it's my turn now. I'm more of a negotiator...."

What?!

His mind broke down everything he had just heard and he quite honestly thought it was all in his top ten of dumbest ideas ever, from everyone present. Including HIS son! Arty cracked his neck and he thought about everything that had just spewed out of everyone's mouth and he suddenly felt if he was on an island all alone in his thinking. Even the other Guardian in the room was talking nonsense. Total and unadulterated NONSENSE!

But was he? Or was The elder Jedi Knight just thinking that because Julian was his son. His son. His Son just offered to die for everyone, to be their martyr, their...Guardian. A sense of pride filled his soul, followed by a sense of fear and dread that cut him to the quick of his paternal instincts. He would have to separate them both to make sense of the situation. Ashlin had already politely lectured him, that was good, but who made her a Master anyway? His eyes narrowed slightly in Ashlin's direction as she seemed to assert her authority over Julian, which might have made sense a few years ago, but she just Knighted him...not one hour ago. Literally. Was she usurping him or was she usurping Erril? Or was she just expressing her opinion and trying to will it into reality? If Julian wanted to sacrifice himself...that thought was awful...unbearable.

No he couldn't be allowed to Sacrifice himself at all, that was not going to happen. This was the wrong place to die for any reason, other than the fact that they were probably all going to die anyway. So why do it alone? Why not die together in oh so wonderfully happy and fitting final battle of good versus evil? At last then their death will mean something and fighting together, they might even be able to take the little s*** that was Johnathon with them. Yep! That's the plan, go kill Johnathon and then go down in the biggest fight the Jedi order has seen since the Clone Wars.

He took a breath to speak and raised his hand about to veto his son's plan on pure parenthood alone, then....

"There's no upper hand to be gained today...simple plans are often best..." Then something about loosening the leash?

Oh for kriff's sake. So much for asserting his parental authority over Julian as Erril and Ashlin seemed to have taken up that mantle quite well. perhaps they should be his parents going forward, they seem to know what they're doing with the Jedi Knight who is a grown man capable....you're doing it again Arty. You're standing up for him when he's wrong. Stop. He's a grown man just like you keep thinking he is.

His eyes caught Julian, and they scanned him up and down, he had been so caught up with everything that had transpired today that he had not taken time to see his son in the way a father would. He was trim, strong, and muscular, even more so than Arty himself, a bit shorter than Arty but he could see himself in his son. Not through his features, as he was not biologically his, but in his soul, he felt his heart and knew his intentions were pure. He smiled and sent a brief sensation of pride to the younger Knight who was his one and only son. The warmth filled Arty's heart as Erril patted him on the neck much the same way he had done to Arty on more than one occasion.

Oh Erril. The wise and older man whom he had been honored to call Master. He remembered his first mission with Erril, twelve years old, not technically his Padawan yet, but trying ever so hard to impress him. He had wrapped his arms around the older Jedi's torso, while balancing on the speeder bike, then they were off....down an unworn path that somehow led to here. The Force was weird....in it's thinking. Did it think? He gave up trying to figure that out long ago.

Then Erril made his way to the door and Arty followed after ruffling Julian's hair...he was taller. He could totally still do that. His eyes caught Ashlin, he was grateful for her, but there was a burning question, one that had been on his mind all day, because he was indeed annoyed with her still over some things.

"So....who died and made you Master?"

He offered her a grin, one that said he was half joking and half serious as he caught the much younger Jedi's eyes. He shrugged and then he made his way into the hall his gaze catching the guards again.

"Yes Erril, I do think he has waited long enough, I cannot wait to hear what tails of joy he has chosen to regale us with...."

[Julian Orspach]

He took the breath inward, his lungs filled and he exhaled. They were right, it was a relief, but at the same time, he did feel that his thinking was not entirely incorrect, but this way would be better. This way they could confront him as one, a single unit, no individuals. He nodded solmenly and shut his eyes for a moment.

This room was still just a room, but he did want to leave it sooner rather than later, his eyes opened and he looked down at the table and his skin began to crawl. Had he been fully human goosepimples as they were called would have formed on his arms and legs as the reality of what he was leaning against became true, but it was in the past and he was here now and had a job to do. It was slowly becoming clear to him that despite being fine more or less for the moment that this journey that he had embarked on would be a long and arduous one. It was not going to be as simply as he would like to be, but perhaps this is where the pennance came in, even if it was not his conscious decision to do those things, he did do them nevertheless.

As they all finished talking and made his decision for him he raised his head and smiled.

"Okay then, you don't have to twist my arm not to die, but let the record state that I offered..."

His smile turned into a playful grin, with his eyes narrowing and shifting down to the side. His father had ruffled his hair and in that moment, he felt another chill. He reflexively batted his father's robotic hand away and straightened his his hair the best he could. Not that it mattered much in this moment, not here.

He looked at his armour on the floor taking it in one last time, the helmet off to the side. Something in him that he couldn't explain sent a thought to Ashlin who was now last in line to leave as he walked out the door.

("Please grab my helmet. I'll explain later.")

He somehow knew that he would feel an astonishing amount of regret if he left it here. He never wanted to put it on again, but there was something about it, something safe despite the pain. There was something comforting about it, something that was so bizarrely appealing that he did not have time to think about it in the moment, that would be another day, a day of meditation, a day where he could be completely alone with his thoughts and the force. This was not that day.

He stepped into the hall behind Arty and Erril and then his eyes caught their reflection in the helmets of the guards. He froze for less than a fraction of a moment as a chill went down his spine. They were here, it wass whom he feared, this moment more than anything that happened today was terrifying, because here he was standing before them, their former commander, now a Jedi Knight. He had been saved, in every way a man could be saved, but yet a small twinge of guilt attacked his stomach and it began to burn. They had been brothers in arms, they had fought together, they had saved each other before and now here he was a traitor.

Purple eyes locked on the leader, Julian squared his shoulders and offered a polite nod to the man.

"Captain..."

[Ashlin Li]

(Music.)

Remember why you started.
”Darkness has no recourse but to fade away in the face of Light. Come on, you’ll see.”
Still some fear and uncertainty about that; but peace.
“So....who died and made you Master?”
Mild embarrassment, a dry little humor; but peace.
(Please grab my helmet. I'll explain later.)
She didn't like that at all... but, peace.
Ashla... Thank you.
Peace.

Ashlin watched Erril as he left the laboratory. Like the others, she'd obviously follow. She didn’t know where this would all end, but she’d traveled through Dark spaces time and again in her life, and they were on this path right now. She'd accepted that.

The thirty year old Sentinel slung the strap of the simplistic cloth bag over her shoulder and glanced behind her toward Arty and Julian. She felt heat at the tips of her ears, aware of her slight flush, but she met Arty’s brief stare with an even gaze. Ashlin offered the taller Jedi the faintest smile that conveyed something between empathy, a flash of humor at trying to imagine her last dozen hours through his eyes, and a little embarrassment that he might have a point.

Even when the Healer’s daughter set aside some of her own decisions that she already needed to think about later... Was she being too protective of Arty at this point? It would take her half the time in a single heartbeat to offer her hand and give him… Nothing like she had for Erril when Julian was in shock last night, but… still, to give Arty that much more to work with than he knew now. He might feel less frustrated with her, anyway. The wryness in her smile deepened a little. This wasn’t the time or the space for that: it was unfair to Julian; it wouldn’t really do anything good for Arty besides maybe improve his current impression of her—the man clearly didn’t need any help with his impression of Johnathon—and she wasn’t sure it was fair to her yet either. She needed to process it all, too, before she kept communicating herself over and over. She couldn't do that here any better than she thought Arty could.

“We’ll talk,” Ashlin quietly repeated her promise from hours ago. (Let's just live through this first. Or come find me in the Force when we're dead... But thank you for keeping us safe, Arty.) She returned his shrug in kind and glanced away. There wasn't much more she could think of.

Then, Julian.

She'd smiled inwardly at the Knight's mental voice. The scars were expected, but he was still whole, and so much better than he'd been. But that smile faltered in her mind and faded to something more like acceptance before the nerve impulses ever made it to the corners of her mouth. He wanted what?

Ashlin moved toward the exit with her companions. Before she left the metal restraint tables, she glanced around and located the black helmet atop the work surface it'd been abandoned on. Before she laid a hand on it, Ashlin quietly tightened her lock on any of the lingering spillover memories. She'd already brushed away the vague sense of something terrible against her face; and a quiet sense of safety that she wasn't prepared to try analyzing.

Julian wanted the helmet. Ashlin didn't care for that, but this was years' deep. She doubted it had much of anything to do with her, and besides; he'd already offered that he'd talk with her about it later. That was good enough.

(Got it.)

The thin Jedi woman reached over an empty tea mug and took the thing in her hands. She glanced down at her reflection in the cold metal orbs that had been the barrier between her stare and the Darksider's. She'd barely been able to functionally get oxygen into her bloodstream when they first met; let alone see Kaini clearly those first hours when he'd leaned too close over her and gloated about how much pain she was in. Then.. yesterday? She'd seen him. Ashlin's stomach twinged in the lab now at the memory of how quickly she'd despised him over—what exactly?—In the grand scheme of things? But she'd done better after that.

Peace.

With a quiet breath in, Ashlin Faithe held the Sith helmet under her arm, balancing it against the same familiar place on her hip that she would have worn a lightsaber. She felt uncomfortably conspicuous, but the dark-haired women was calm as she fell in with the other three Jedi in the corridor amid their escort of guards, leaving the glaring white laboratory behind.

[Royal Guards]

The doors opened and the Jedi filed out one by one, "your patience is appreciated..." two of the Sith troopers flinched and their grips tightened on their rifles. The royal guards themselves, remained unmoved especially their leader who just eyed the elder Jedi as he walked out. He felt a tinge of something different in the aura of the Jedi, he didn't have time for what he did not understand. He was experienced in being professional, he was in charge of men and he had to remain cool.

The younger Jedi whom they had already encountered mocked the Supreme Chancellor again. How dare he? He sighed and held his tongue. There was nothing to gained in this moment by dignifying that with a response. Then...then....

Lord Kaini came out, he felt himself snap to attention for a half a second before he realized what he was doing. He was loyal to his core, but this was...this was different. He felt his head lower and his eyes beneath his helmet narrowed at his former leader.

They began to walk down the hallway, and the butt of a rifle found itself driven "accidentally into Kaini's shoulder."

::ENOUGH! Trooper!::

Their leader shouted he turned his head to face to the offending trooper. Another one looked towards Kaini as the neared the grand throne room.

::Kriffing TRAITOR!::

The man bumped his shoulder slightly into Kaini's shoulder.

Their leader sighed audibly as the approached the door, for the first time noticing the helmet carried by the female Jedi, his head turned toward her for a brief moment and his eyes rolled. What had they done to him? What had they done to such a great man and a leader to make him turn to the evil ways of the Jedi? What could they have possibly done? Regret. Sadness. Pain. All things that were felt in the pit of his stomach as he opened the door.

::We're here...::

---
Continued in the Throne Room
(Link)