A New Life

[Inyos Aamoran]

Late thirties?

Inyos had spent far too long alone, in hiding, and in the Jedi to be all that worried about anything quite so vain as how old people thought he was; but he couldn't quite help the small flicker of a smile as that suggestion tumbled out of her lips.

"I was born fifty-three years ago," he explained, something creeping into his voice that might have seemed like smugness coming from anyone else. "I understand your confusion though; I spent several years in a sort of -"

- shadowy prison fuelled by the Dark Side of the Force?

That was the true answer, but not an especially helpful one, all things considered.

"- stasis, alone on a world in the Unknown Regions. I still experienced the passage of time, but some... complicated environmental factors stopped my body from ageing as rapidly as it should have. Sort of a -" He gestured a swirling motion with his hands, fumbling for the right choice of words. "- healing effect. A byproduct of the planet trying to keep me alive."

From the way his shoulders shifted, and from the way his focus had returned to the cracks and seams between the panels of deck plating underfoot, it was clear that it was not a topic that Inyos felt entirely comfortable discussing openly; and yet this was his Padawan. Most important of all between a master and apprentice was trust: and such things were earned through openness and honesty.

"The planet was a nexus of Dark Side energies, that -"

He stopped himself, realising that he was taking for granted Sadie's knowledge of the fundamentals he had learned as a Youngling. Taking a breath he began again, trying to compress those concepts into the simplest terms he could.

"The Force, as the Jedi understand it at least, has different facets. The Jedi seek to channel the Light Side of the Force, which responds to pure thoughts and emotions, like hope and serenity. The Light Side has the ability to heal, to soothe, and to aid a Jedi in ways that not even I fully understand. The Dark Side is it's opposite, born of dark passions; of fear, anger, hate, and pain. The Dark Side dominates, corrupts, and seduces. The Jedi's ancient enemy, the Sith, used the Dark Side to satisfy their lust for power and to conquer the galaxy time and time again."

Something flickered in Inyos' eyes, a flash of memory at how painfully first hand he had learned these lessons. "It's worst facet is how easy a path it is to walk down: those who crave power find it easily from the Darkness; but it consumes and corrupts them, twisting them into something unrecognisable. I journeyed to this planet beside my closest friend, a Padawan named Mandan Hidatsa. The Dark Side twisted him, preyed upon his fears and turned him against me. It did the same to a woman we encountered there as well; the mother of your -" He chose the word carefully. "- friend, Captain Montegue. The Dark Side used Mandan and Emaryn as puppets, pitting them against me in the hopes of corrupting me as well. They -"

His shoulders sagged.

"They did not survive, and I was not able to escape it's corruption either. It was Captain Montegue, his father and brother, and other associates of theirs who eventually found me and freed me; brought me back to the galaxy. I believe that is part of why the Force led me here, to Bespin: to atone for my failings, and to do so around those who have seen me at my worst, and are -"

Another pause.

"- capable of intervening should I be at risk of falling again."

It was an admission with far more gravity than Inyos had intended. Perhaps it was even too much truth; but Inyos could not bring himself to conceal it. Perhaps knowing would make Saidra too hesitant to accept his teachings; but better she know the truth now and make her decisions wisely with all the information - it was Inyos' understanding that there had been far too many secrets in Saidra's life already.

It had proven more beneficial than he expected as well. Something about speaking the words, confiding them in another had shed a little of the weight from his shoulders. His eyes turned towards Saidra, and wondered if he might somehow be able to offer her a little of the same comfort. A whisper in his mind, a memory of adages and proverbs read long ago floated through his thoughts, a certain warmth forming in his chest as the ancient and familiar words offered a small flicker of comfort.

"There is a Jedi Sage from centuries ago, whose transcribed words of wisdom often bring me some small amount of comfort. One that stuck with me from my studies at the Jedi Temple was this: Secrets and dark thoughts have great power when kept in the shadows; but they weaken and crumble when confronted with the Light of day."

His expression softened, a gentle curiosity tugging at his brows.

"Perhaps there would be some wisdom in sharing whatever is troubling you. We are far more likely to vanquish it together than alone."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

And Sadie thought her life screwed up. She could suss out that there was more to the story, but she got the parts and bits she needed to hear and what was left unspoken was obviously somethin' that Inyos had trouble with. She couldn't blame him; it was one thing to say that Bog had tortured her, another to describe the way the blade felt as it slid through the layers of her skin or the days of bare consciousness that followed. Was a trauma, set a mark on a person that couldn't be seen and while the experiences weren't the same it took one to know one and Sadie recognized that sort of deep rooted pain. Seemed her and Inyos had a bit in common in that they both were survivors of a sort, but neither really felt they deserved to be. Maybe there really was somethin' to what he had said about them just needing to meet way back when but the current back and forth could only happen now, they had to change, they had to go through stuff.

At least now it made a whole heap of sense as to why it looked like Inyos hadn't really gone and aged much since she had first met him.

He weren't tellin' her this stuff as some sort of frack uppery competition, though. She wasn't even sure it was to try and let her know that he got it. But there was somethin' still good 'bout knowin' it. She'd met other Jedi, even one that recognized her for what she was not too long ago, back when she was caught up in that Ssi-ruuk madness. It would have been real easy for him to ask her to come along to wherever it was that they were holed up nowadays. She'd considered regrettin' not goin', not gettin' a clean slate and some real protection from Bog and all but some part of her knew she'd hate it. Stuck with the goodie-goodies that she didn't belong among. Hell, even agreein' to let Inyos train her was surprisin', but it'd felt right. Guess she knew why. He'd gotten a bit too close to true darkness, felt what real evil felt like and had - if she'd heard right - for a time fallen. If anyone was gonna get her, if anyone was gonna understand her mindset, it was probably someone who had to go through that and managed to come back out the other end.

His little bit of sage wisdom went kinda over her head, though. Far as she was seein', secrets - the big ones, not ones 'bout secret lunch foods - were bad whether hidden or out in the open. Sure they crumbled when they were In the Light but they often were bastards of gorram things whose debris caused a frakton of mass destruction on their way down.

Annnd there it came. The peace branch offered and extended. Share and share alike, kiddo. Yeah, okay, she could do that now that things had cooled a smidge and weren't in danger of causin' her own bit of destruction.

"Ain't much. Nothin' really. Em's got a new face 'round. Find out it's - shocker - somebody I used t' run with when I was a teenage screwup. Then one day he up an' basically told me t' frak off by vanishin' without warnin'. Give y' one guess who was behind that." Sadie sighed, fingertips and head itchin' for a cigarra that she hadn't wanted since she'd tried to run off herself. Hadn't gone and bought a new pack nor the stuff to roll her own. Probably for the best given the bad habit but felt more like bad luck.

"I just don't get 'im. Yeah yeah, I get th' whole overprotective uncle bit but some steps just seem like too damn far and then other steps ain't even there. Yeah Vhiran ain't no golden boy but he weren't twistin' my arm outta the socket whenever he got huffy either, y'know? Why could't he 'av like... put me some place proper? Maybe even some skrag job here or wherever else he was. He said somethin' 'bout a promise t' m' mum, but..." Another one of them heavy sighs that made it feel like her chest was gonna cave in. "What good was that promise when it only seemed t' screw me over?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

And there it was: her mother. What was it that people said - the bantha in the room? Another tug of suppressed sadness tugged in Inyos' chest. The subject that Saidra deserved to hear about, but that didn't want to readily escape from his lips. He said it himself, though. Bring the secrets from the shadow into the light.

"This may not help," Inyos offered carefully, "But I knew your mother and uncle years ago. Shortly after my Padawan died, Mandan Hidatsa and I found ourselves seeking refuge aboard your mother's ship. Your uncle? Atton Kira had just resigned from Republic service. He was one of a few good men, people who didn't believe the Chancellor's lies about the Jedi. He and your mother -"

Inyos trailed off, a different kind of small smile sneaking onto his lips this time.

"They are only half-siblings. They share the same mother, but your uncle was raised by his own father. There was always a little friction between them. There were times when they could not stand each other; and yet they loved each other deeply, as blood-relatives do. I found it very confusing myself: being raised in the Temple, I do not have much experience with the idea of family and siblings; but that undying love and loyalty was clear enough for even I to know it was there."

Yet another ponderous frown creased his features.

"I do not know what manner of promise your uncle made to your mother, but I do know this: the both of them were two of the most stubborn sentient beings in the universe. Whatever promise Atton Kira made to your mother, not even the Dark Side would be strong enough to make him break it. As for what he has done? I do not know enough to say; but I am certain, if even a fraction of his caring for your mother was passed on to you, he did everything he could in order to keep you safe."

He risked a sidelong glance, injecting the faintest hint of a rare sarcastic tone into his words.

"Clearly he didn't do such a great job keeping you safe from a life of crime; but the fact that you are here, instead of being locked in an Imperial prison, dissected in a research lab, or lying broken in an alley carved through by an Inquisitor's lightsaber blade? Perhaps he deserves a little credit, and a little understanding, for having succeeded as well as he did."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Inyos hadn't really said anything dramatically new since they'd been talkin'. Granted the first time he had told her about that business with the dark side planet she'd been havin' a bit of an existential crisis and could only really remember the bits about Vittore's mum because let's be honest - he was the only one she was thinkin' about that day and everythin' that came before was some sort of jumbled damn blur and it didn't really stick so it had all been like hearing it over again but for some reason you kinda knew how the basic story had gone.

Also felt a bit different from tellin' someone somethin' to maybe try and make amends or whatever Inyos' motivations had been that day to tellin' her now as his apprentice type-thing. No, his Padawan as he'd put it. Didn't make it all mean any less, just put it all in a fresh context.The stuff about Atton and her mum weren't all that different - the basics, at least. Sadie had done a lil' bit of reading up on her. Very little. The chip that Atton had given her had more data that she could actually hope to process. Not to mention when she'd started lookin' she got kinda distracted by a certain bounty hunter and if she was honest with herself, she didn't want to look a whole lot deeper. As much as she enjoyed spendin' time in data streams and starin' at code and all, there was somethin' about a person's life that just seemed more real when it came out speakin' like. Turned them from bein' a document into a person, she guessed.

And if nothin' else, hearin' Inyos talk 'bout the two of 'em put more light on stuff, fleshed out the whole half-sibling thing a bit better. She hadn't really delved into what all that had meant but the Jedi was paintin' a right clear picture. Kinda estranged and yet the guy did everythin' he could think of to try and help her kid. Felt wrong bein' mad at him just then. B'sides, Sadie couldn't really get mad at him for the Bog thing - it could have been damn near any reason as to why that didn't work out so awesome. If nothin' else, Atton Kira was a damn human bein', and that meant y' made mistakes sometimes. Sure it was right fraked, but dren happens. Considerin' some of them other options that Inyos was throwin' out, she guess Atton hadn't done such a bad job at keepin' her safe while keepin' himself out of the picture.

"If y' don't mind me askin'... what was my mum like?" Sadie still had problems puttin' the name from the chip with the whole mum thing. Best to stick to the more anonymous way of callin' her, even if most folks would have thought it the more familiar. Frak knew how it would be if she ever met the woman, though. "I mean, aside from stubborn."

[Inyos Aamoran]

"She was -"

It was the question that Inyos should have expected more than any other, and yet he hadn't prepared himself for it. Perhaps on some level, he thought that by refraining from preparing an answer, it would somehow stave off the need to answer. Perhaps it wasn't logical, or rational; but those were never things that Inyos had all that much success being when Elira Asael was concerned. Or perhaps it wasn't even the question and the answer that he shied away from: perhaps it was the memories, ones that despite all the unexpected fondness and joy they brought with them, he had denied himself access to; kept them buried and pushed aside. On Ord Ithil, at first, he had clung to those memories; tried to draw warmth from them like the last dying embers of a fire. But soon the embers had turned cool, and then cold; and for fear of seeing them corrupted, Inyos had buried them far beyond the darkness's reach. Now that he was free, the fear still lingered: worry about how they might have been twisted and changed. It felt strange somehow, as if he were hoarding them like some precious jewel that he refused to ever look at and enjoy. Why was he safeguarding those memories, if he never intended to draw upon them?

A moment of mental surrender, and the unexpected happened. He didn't think of the painful circumstances of his parting from the Maelibus and her crew. He didn't think of the arguments, or the perilous misadventures, or even really the good times. It was the normal times; the average days, the long nights spent in hyperspace, the banter and the acceptance of a crew that didn't give a mynock's ass if they were Jedi - they were welcome just the same.

The wistful smile that formed on Inyos' lips was the largest yet. "Elira used to tease me," he explained, much of the formality slipping away from his words. Not only the memories slowly began to seep into his mind, but the man as well; the person he'd managed to be when his forcefields and propriety weren't entirely raised. As he spoke, more warmth crept in; and his hands began to gesticulate, emphasising the words.

"A lot. You see, you have this ancestor. His name is Ra's Ath-Thu'ban. He was the companion of the Jedi Sage who I quoted earlier, and I -" A soft chuckle escaped. "I suppose I quoted her wisdom quite a lot. I had a proverb for every situation, and your mother? I suppose she must have heard them all as a child, because it drove her up the wall. She used to call me by his name, Ra's, every time I was being too Jedi. I suppose she thought I was doing the same as your ancestor had: borrowing the wisdom of someone else, because I didn't have any of my own."

A conflicted expression toyed with his lips and his brow. "She was kind, as well; though she tried to make sure no one ever realised. She bundled herself up inside sarcasm, and acerbic comebacks, keeping people at a distance because she felt that was what she needed to do. She was a smuggler, a woman smuggler; and during those ruthless years of the early Empire, that was a dangerous thing to be, especially with the flickers of Force sensitivity she possessed. And yet, despite the risk, despite the abject foolishness of it, she took in Mandan and I without a second thought. Gave us a home for a time; gave us the opportunity to stop running, even for a little while. And she -"

He faltered. Difficult words surged around behind his tongue, clashing together, stopping each other in place. He swallowed them down; chose carefully which ones to allow back up.

"When we first came aboard, I was still grieving over Lúka. But I am -" He struggled for the words again. "- not adept with emotion. Rather than suppress only the darkness, my way has been to suppress all; and I did not know how to process my sadness. Your mother was there for me, and I -"

The rest of the sentence faded as he turned to Saidra once more, a smile taking their place as he found her gaze.

"You are very much like her," he admitted, with the faintest of sighs. "You are your own person, but I do see the woman I knew lurking in there behind your eyes. And while I may not have made the same promise to protect you that your uncle did -"

The smile faltered, a little of the sadness returning.

"If it is alright with you, I would like to pretend that I did."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie weren't sure if it was The Will o' The Force or what, but really Inyos was probably the kind of guy who should have bored her to the seven hells and back. He certainly weren't the kind that she'd voluntary hang out with since she was fairly certain - while he may not say nothin' - he wouldn't exactly by the kind to go and approve of her drinkin' and the occasional cigarra and she was downright surprised he didn't flinch every time she done gone and said somethin' unladylike. She probably had the time he'd spent with her mum and uncle t' thank for his lack of reaction. Still though, he just should have irked her in all the ways possible but instead she found herself clingin' to every word.

It weren't just that Inyos was some sorta link t' a past she was a part of but had no clue towards. Sadie couldn't put a finger on it, probably never would if she tried, but somehow the Jedi had just come and found himself a spot that Sadie hadn't even noticed was an empty part of her life. And damn if he didn't just fit there perfectly. Nothin' like Vittore or anythin' like that but was still kinda uncanny.

She did have to wonder though if her mum was all that good as Inyos made her sound, though. He seemed like one of them folks that always saw the best in people or at least wanted to. Nothin' wrong with that, Sadie supposed. Was still his version of the story, which is what she asked for.

His last comment threw her for a bit, though. Weren't really expecting that addon but it made that amused little smile of hers broaden just a bit.

"Thought y' were sayin' that kinda came with the territory of this whole Padawan thing?" There was a look in her eyes and a lilt to her tone that Sadie was hopin' made it clear she was all but sayin' 'Course it is, dummy. Teasin' him... just like mum used to do, apparently.

[Inyos Aamoran]

There was no stopping the smile from taking over Inyos' features; only a sense of propriety - and a lack of practice - stopped it from developing too far out of hand.

"Yeah," he conceded, not entirely sure what he was feeling. Relief, certainly, that Saidra hadn't somehow retracted her interest in that sort of an arrangement; but also a strange sense of satisfaction at knowing that Saidra really did seem to understand, and at feeling how easily interaction was managing to flow between them. There had only ever been a handful of people in the universe with whom Inyos had found interactions easy, especially in the years since Ord Ithil - he had always felt detached from the universe somehow, as if he were interacting with it from inside a pressure suit, not quite experiencing all the sensations and not quite having the same dexterity of interaction that others seemed to have. With Saidra - Sadie; he forced himself to correct that in his mind, trying to tailor himself towards what she seemed to prefer being called - it felt natural. There was effort required, but that effort felt worthwhile, and he felt stronger for it instead of drained. Perhaps it was the will of the Force again, reinforcing the notion that they were following it's path. Or perhaps there were simply certain individuals who were attuned to each other in some way: certain dents and edges that allowed the right people to fit together like the shards of a broken vase. Perhaps that was all of them, not just Sadie and himself but all of Emelie Shadowstar's associates, brought together so that they could reform a whole that they were always meant to be.

Whatever the reason, it didn't much matter: what mattered was the sense of purpose and fulfilment that Inyos felt looking upon his new student; his new Padawan.

"I suppose I did, didn't I?"

[Emelie Shadowstar]

***

There was some saying about best laid plans that Emelie couldn't quite remember but certainly seemed apt. For all her good intentions, things seemed to always go sour lately. It was her penance for everything with The Exchange working out. Something had to go wrong somewhere and of course it would be with the personnel. What Sadie had said was true, she should have done her homework on those sort of things but the thought that these random individuals she knew could possibly know one another hadn't even been the tiniest spark of thought in her mind - a mistake that wouldn't happen again.

Not that she could arguably worry about that right now. Right now she was standing cross armed in a clinic, sipping caff because they wouldn't let her have a proper drink. Which really, wasn't that counter-intuitive to the calm nature they wanted from those that arrived with the patients? She'd even been tempted to have one of Vhiran's death sticks, just to show those working here how much she couldn't give a damn less about their rules and such but all things considered, it was probably best to play nice.

Vhiran's sudden collapse in the Elysium underground had been the icing on a rather messy little cake she'd baked. Her slicer storming off was easily enough handled by others - probably Captain Montegue - but Vhiran? At least Kira hadn't totally left her to her own devices, though after Vhi decided to shoot him with a blaster stun, Emelie wouldn't be surprised if he pretended the spacer didn't exist for the next few years. Still, somehow, they had managed to get Vhiran to the same clinic that had treated one of her own before, same doctor too.

Coughing up blood was never a good sign. Of all the ways to integrate a new member... Emelie sighed and took another drink of her caff as she mulled it over. The galaxy hated her sometimes.

Her pacing was probably wearing the patch of carpet she walked over thin and finally she let out a deep breath. "They either need to tell us what the frak is going on or let me the hell in there."

[Justin Dechen]

"And miss out on one of our delicious caffeinated beverages?"

The voice came from behind her, a familiar lab coated figure who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. In reality he had done nothing of the sort, and was instead engaging in a new game he had created for himself. In an effort to make the many hours he spent on his feet a little more bearable, he had been experimenting with different kinds of more comfortable footwear. This week's tailored loafers, when combined with the carpeted floors of the clinic's waiting room, had turned out to be an incredibly stealthy conversation. Boyish ambitions of being a Republic Ranger had bubbled to the surface, and so Justin had spent the last several days attempting to move about unnoticed as much as humanly possible.

As Emelie started and turned, he offered her a smile, a flash of eyebrows, and patted the clipboard clutched across his chest.

"This is the second employee of yours that you've brought in here in one hell of a state, Miss Shadowstar. Do I need to be worried about what your staff is up to in those offices of yours?"

A small smirk crept onto his lips.

"I won't actually be worried of course; caring takes far too much effort. I just need to know if I should pretend, for appearances sake."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

"Pretending is appreciated," Emelie replied coolly as an attempt to shake off the sudden surprise appearance of the doctor.

There was a touch of flirtatious tone there too which she should have been ashamed of, considering her current... Frak sake what even was Vhiran? She loathed the term "boytoy" but "lover" made it sound all pretentious. And he wasn't exactly some guy that could be classified as the most recent in a string of whatever they were. Whatever he was to her, it was fairly personal and most people wouldn't exactly have gone acting like that sort of person was replaceable on the spot. Which Vhi certainly wasn't and Emelie wasn't that damned heartless or easy.

The empty paper cup on her hand was treated like it was glass stemware as she readjusted her position, shifting a hip there, hands coming to rest more casually as she narrowed her vision on the doctor. He wasn't exactly in her inner circle - not yet - but the guy had managed to help Sadie K'Vesh not have an overly prolonged healing period after Vittore's attempt at patching her up. She felt indebted to him for that alone so the little odd comment was let by. It was hard to find someone who wouldn't ask too many questions, after all.

"It's a rough galaxy out there, after all." She said with a shrug, as if it were the simplest explanation and Doctor Dechen was used to handling the odd blaster wound at odd hours of the night as if it were nothing more than a child's cough. Emelie hoped that their association wouldn't exactly come to such things but there was something nice about knowing such services were available. If they were.

It took Emelie a few moments, but slowly her posture slumped - not entirely, just enough to be far more casual. The drop of an act held for so long she wasn't entirely sure which was the real her anymore. The hinting of concern tugged at her features as she looked towards the physician.

"How is he?"

[Justin Dechen]

"Well, he's not dead yet," Justin replied, with more than a little misplaced cheer. He always found that sort of thing a little hard to wrap his head around. You always wanted to emphasise the good news, and you wanted to put the best spin on things as possible, but working out whether you were supposed to deliver news with a smile or with a sympathetic frown always took far more effort than he was willing to invest. He chose a blanket policy of optimism in all situations; worst case scenario, any complaints logged about him would just say too nice.

He glanced down at the clipboard. Not that he needed to remind himself with what was wrong with the middle-aged associate that Miss Shadowstar had dragged in with her. The moment he'd popped those lung scans up on the monitor, a low whistle had been involuntarily dragged from his lungs; you didn't see that sort of sight outside of medical text books, usually. A hideous mess of damaged and scarred tissue; probably at least a decade of the wrong kinds of abuse to blame. Justin hadn't bothered to pry into the habits or lifestyle of his patient; he didn't really care, truth be told - the guy needed fixing, and Miss Shadowstar had the credits, so who was he to pass judgement on how the guy went and screwed his body up? He wasn't exactly about to talk the guy out of it, either: that path led to healthy people, and healthy people were extremely bad for business.

"The bad news is that he's well on his way. He has what we in the medical community call acute pulmonary triacidosis - which, roughly translates to too much bad shit in your lungs. I'm guessing that your... friend?" It seemed as good a word to guess as any. "Probably has some pretty nasty spice and deathstick habits. I'm guessing he's not exactly vanilla about it either; mixes in his own chems for reasons that I'm sure are entirely his business and none of mine. He's damaged a lot of the tissue within his lungs, and his body is having a hard time sucking in the good parts of the air, and a hard time not sucking in the bad parts. My guess is he had some sort of sudden spike in heart rate, his body started pumping crappy blood around itself, and wham."

Justin stopped for what he hoped was just long enough to let the information sink in - not because he was particularly sympathetic to the struggles that Miss Shadowstar might have; more of a mandated obligation, really. Left up to him, he'd just hand the next of kin a quickly scrawled note with a Y/N check box at the bottom and a line for their cred account details, but all sorts of regulatory commissions and what not insisted that he provide at least a basic level of care and caring; so here he was, waiting, for exactly the requisite amount of time. One Coruscanti. Two Coruscanti. Three Coruscanti...

"The important thing here is that this condition is treatable. We can place him on bacta inhalation therapy: pump some of that goop into his lungs and let it do it's business fixing the worst of the damage; a few courses of that, and he'll be right as rain. Everything will taste kinda icky for the first few hours afterwards, but there shouldn't be any lasting side effects. Heck: if you can convince him to add a little kolto into whatever custom blend he's been smoking, it should negate most of the damage and let him live out a normal human lifespan without this ever being a factor again."

He allowed his face to muster a grimace, even though he wasn't even remotely reluctant to deliver the last piece of news.

"It'll be a little more expensive than it used to be, what with how tricky it is to get shipments out to this part of the galaxy these days; but if he's on your books as an Elysian employee, and if you slide me a few extra credits to whip up the forms to blame this on environmental factors rather than substance abuse, you should be able to get your company's medical insurance to cover the worst of it."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

There was an urge to scream. An urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and cringe. And a final one to march right into whatever room they were holding Vhiran in and shake the dren out of him until he coughed up half a lung and a good reason as to why he hadn't said anything or come to her for help a long damn time ago. She knew the reasons, though. Knew them well enough to know her own stubbornness at that sort of thing and everything that went along with it. She avoided the the first two desires - the last could come later and simply nodded as if accepting some news about a business deal gone bad that could be salvaged at a bit of an initial loss.

"Done." She gave a half shrug of a shoulder too, just for show.

As much as her bank accounts would probably eventually hate it, she wanted this doctor on her good side so in the future there's be further lack of prying questions. He seemed to understand the need for silence, the required things to say and do to make it sound as if something were legit when it wasn't. Doctor Dechen wasn't exactly all warm fuzzies about it, but Emelie could respect that. He made money on sick people, not healthy ones. If he could make some extra money off of people like her who needed things written up a certain way or described in terms that didn't lend to their actual causes, all the better. At least he was willing. She wasn't even sure how he had written off the extent of Sadie's injuries that first time - hadn't looked into it, but all she knew was that there was a lack of any sort of authorities coming asking questions and trying to extract justice in their ineffective ways.

While the better part of her mind was focused on the future worth of the doctor, the back of her mind was reeling in anger. Vhiran had done this to himself, and while Emelie was the last person to get on anyone's case about that sort of thing, she also was genuinely concerned. That bit with the kolto sounded good too, even if she had to shove that crap into the death sticks herself to make sure he kept himself at least a shadow of healthy, she'd do it. He would probably hate her for this when he woke up or was released - whichever came first. But this was her decision to keep him alive. He could look at it as payback for apparently ditching her and making them both ignore their feelings for years if he wanted.

[Justin Dechen]

Justin nodded, mostly to himself. Concerned people did this: went all quiet, forgetting that they needed to speak in order to communicate with the other sentient beings in the room. Well, unless they were Verpines, and they were trying to talk to other Verpines, but -

Carefully pushing that train of thought until it converted into the opening scene of an imaginary Verpine porno, he pretended to scribble down a few important notes on his clipboard, though in reality all that appeared on the page was a floppy-haired smiley face with credit signs for eyes. Finishing with a flourish, and returning the stylus to his lab coat pocket, he bounced a little on the balls of his feet, silently urging Miss Shadowstar to see if she had anything to say. About three seconds in he became too impatient to wait any longer however, and decided to shoulder the rest of the conversational work himself.

"I still have your account details from before, so that shouldn't be a problem. I'll have a chat with that overly peppy assistant of yours as well - see if we can't get Elysian Acquisitions to play a part in acquiring what we need, and write off some of the expense for you."

He faltered for a moment, partly anxious to go off and make sure his new revenue stream was firmly in place: not just for his own sake, but because he'd learned from experience that lucrative patients liked a doctor who got things done fast, and Miss Shadowstar was a revenue stream he very much wanted to stay on the good side of. Before he disappeared however, one final thought tumbled from his lips, with something that almost, almost sounded like genuine sympathy crimping at the edges.

"If you want to go in and see him, you can. He should be awake by now."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

She avoided the unnecessary thank you, but let a simple nod of her head suffice. Emelie didn't know much about the physician but what little she was coming to understand was the two of them may not have been all that dissimilarly minded when it came to lucrative opportunities. There was a point where you had to take the people out of the equation, so to speak, and even if he did seem to be putting on a show when it came to the actual care of his patients, Dechen did good work. In the end, that was all that really mattered. She was more than willing to pay the credits if the ends were justified. And for Vhiran, or hell, anyone else involved in her new little endeavor, they were worth it and then some.

The whole day still had her feeling lopsided, though. Thrown off from a groove she got caught up in from morning 'till night that was her standard way of presentation. The meeting with the rest of The Exchange had been meant to be such a simple affair and it had turned into an entire mess. Emelie still couldn't get the little rambling monologue of accusations out of her mind that Sadie had delivered. Embarrassing indeed.

The day wasn't even over. There were at least two people she needed to talk to before she could retire to her suite with an expensive brandy and a bubble bath. Kira would have to wait, but the other? He was apparently available for speaking now and Emelie wasn't in the mood to play games.

A few quick directed strides down pristine corridors and she came to the room that Vhiran was in. It was probably against hospital policy to close the door but Emelie didn't give a frak right then. For a moment she held herself as she always tried to - as if she were some sort of sentient being in a class above every other. They weren't just beneath her, they were beneath her notice unless they had something visually or monetarily appealing. The facade fell away as her hazel eyes settled on the bed and the man laying in it. For a time she could stop being Emelie Shadowstar and just be Em again.

The sigh that left her lips was full of frustration and one of the chairs in the room were glanced at but ultimately decided against; she could stand for this one and hold onto what little of her new self she could manage without somehow returning her and Vhi back to some strange echo of Kalresh's.

"So when were you gonna tell me you were dying?" It came out mixed: Accusatory and not, pained and yet simply put. Their renewed association was too fresh for this type of shit, and yet here they were.

[Vhiran Antilles]

Vhiran grimaced, reaching up to move the breathing mask that was attached to his face by elastic. He felt a strange tug in the back of his hand from the intravenous needle jammed in there, straining about under the medical tape that was supposed to hold it secure. He bloody hated this kind of stuff. He'd been worse off than this before, and all he'd had to deal with it was a roll of mesh tape to hold his guts in, and a bottle of cheap whiskey to make him care about his problems a little less. All these bags of liquid crap getting dripped into his veins, flushing out the carefully constructed build-up of chemicals in his system; it was a waste of time. A destruction of his chemical investment in himself. Worse, at some point they'd apparently stripped him and put him in one of those gowns that tied up at the back and left his arse hanging out for the whole Outer Rims to see if he tried to waddle off anywhere before they were good and done with him.

That wasn't the worst of it, though. The worst of it was Emelie; or at least, everything Emelie brought with her. Without the numbing blanket of chems to keep his Force sensitivity good and suppressed, her emotions punched him in the face without hesitation. It was horrible, that. Not just the part of knowing that she was angry, or that she was hurt; but knowing she felt that way because of everything lurking underneath it all as well.

"Ah, that."

He tried to sound like his usual self, but his voice was weak and reedy, his lungs feeling as if they'd just endured a transit through a Geonosis droid factory, all stamped and mashed to bloody shit. He supposed that all things considered, that comparison wasn't far off. He'd made his peace with all that though. His number was up, will of the Force and all that; best to just embrace it and let it come when it was good and ready, right?

"Weren't really plannin' on it, truth be told. Figured that if I was on me way off this mortal coil an' all that, the least I could do was try an' throw a dash of closure your way. Didn't want to wander off into the great beyond without tryin' to patch up what I broke."

A faint cough left him, but even that couldn't manage to dislodge the pallid lack of colour from his cheeks.

"Weren't exactly plannin' on us, y'know -" He trailed off, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Pickin' up were we left off, an' all that. An' I guess I just 'adn't managed to work out 'ow exactly to break it to ya."

He fell a little silent, eyes struggling to hold their focus on Emelie.

"Thought the old collapsin' an' goin' unconscious approach worked out pretty well, honestly."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

"Hardly." She spat out the word like it was a curse.

Emelie felt her hair being tugged thanks to her hand reaching up and twisting around a strand of her hair. It was an old nervous tick of hers that she had mostly beaten. The other being the whole inside of her cheek chewing which she had at least learned to do without others noticing. The hair thing, though... She was sure she had gotten over it until that very moment. The untangling of her fingers was done rather violently when Emelie realized what she was doing. It was far unlike her, unsettled yet more genuine in a way.

"Dammit, Vhi. You can't just come walking back into my life and then die. Not after..." She stopped herself and took a deep breath, eyes shutting and lower lip bitten as it was done.

Once some semblance of her usual control was regained, Emelie redirected herself fully at Vhiran in all his pitiful state. "You know damn well why not. This is low, even for you. And as much I'd love to make this all about me and my perceived slights, you owe others now too. As much as Atton is a downright bastard, he deserves some sort of..." She couldn't make herself say apology.

"Just hear him out. Guy's reasons are shady as all the hells combined but he has them. And then there's Maggie-" A wince crossed her features as she fell into the all too familiar alias she'd called the girl for years. "Sadie. She said you guys are good but you know as well as I do that isn't over."

She just couldn't stop the exasperated sighs and Emelie half wondered if they continued to come in the place of screams. As the last finished she sunk again, finally taking leave of the chair. It wasn't entirely without grace that she set herself down but it felt awkward, like despite her best efforts they had both fallen through some sort of time loop and she was back to being a pre-teen who barely spoke and was half frightened of the entire universe with only her friend to rely on. It didn't make sense, they should have skipped back to when they were last together, when she at least somewhat resembled the woman she was now. Confident, surefire; not some weakling who still jumped at loud sounds and had nightmares more often than not.

"And us, Vhi. I thought... I thought maybe we were making up for lost time, you know? I don't believe in any of that Force dren, you know that. But something brought us back together. We cared about each other once and I know it isn't the same and it won't ever be again but... I've felt good. Last night, this morning... I may look like I have things together here but it's all just surface. I thought maybe that would change now."

Frak, she could use a drink, or a smoke, or something heavier.

"And then you pull this shit. Still lying to me after I thought we cleared the damn air."

[Vhiran Antilles]

She was right to be angry. Right to feel lied to and betrayed. But Vhiran knew that Emelie realised things weren't as simple as all that. While truth was an absolute, honesty wasn't. There were layers of it. Stages of it. You told people enough of the truth so that they understood, so that they had enough to handle; but you always held a little back. There were always the white lies. The I'm fine lies. The specifics held back to protect the people you cared about from pain, or worry. It was how things were with people; and how things had always been with them. Vhiran didn't know the whole truth of what had happened to Emelie before she landed in Kalresh: he knew all that she had been able to share, but there were specifics, details, emotions that were just too difficult to share no matter how strong a bond you had with a person. For Vhiran it was the same: Emelie didn't know the specifics of his childhood at the Jedi Temple, didn't know what he'd witnessed when Vader and his 501st had come for them, didn't know the internal agony Vhiran had experienced feeling each and every one of those lives shattering through the Force, their final moments consumed by utter darkness and terror. But she knew enough. She knew what mattered. That was honesty: the version of it that was actually worth a damn, at least.

But that was the crux of it, wasn't it? He hadn't told Emelie for one simple reason: he hadn't thought it mattered enough. He had come here to give Emelie a little closure; to earn a little forgiveness to he could shuffle off into the beyond. So what if he was going to die? He was never going to see Emelie again, so what did it matter? That would have been too much honesty, and it would have changed things. He didn't want Emelie to forgive him because he was sick. He wanted her to forgive him, or hate him, the amount that she needed to - this was about recompense, and nothing more. So what if he'd gone and killed himself slowly in the years he'd been gone. Emelie didn't need to know.

And then this impossibility had happened. Picking up where they left off. Enough forgiveness that a relationship between them - whatever category this all fell into - suddenly seemed possible. Such a thing called for honesty too; but how did you even begin? What was he supposed to do, wait until post-coital and say oh by the way, I'll probably be dead in a few months, sorry love, or words to that effect? He'd herded himself in a corner. Worse, he'd gone and found himself with something too precious to him to ever risk letting the truth damage it.

He slumped back against the pillows, eyes turning up to the ceiling, fixating on the strange flecks and patterns on the duratiles.

"I didn't want you t'feel sorry fer me."

It was more complicated than that; but at the same time, that was exactly honest enough. That was the version of the truth that mattered; the version that Emelie was capable of understanding.

"I didn't want you forgivin' me out of pity. Didn't want you feelin' you had to fix me outta some obligation you ain't ever 'ad. I didn't -"

He wheezed out a small sigh; not all that good an idea he discovered, a few weak splutters later.

"When I saw you lookin' at me the way you used to, I didn't want to lose that. Not yet. Didn't want you thinkin' I was anythin' less than the man I used to be. Didn't want you lookin' at me the way you are now. Never could bear t'see them pretty eyes a' yours lookin' sad."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

The single laugh that came didn't escape her but rather caused a sharp exhale. It wasn't really amusing, more just so them; so her. Emelie dealt in secrets nowadays, had an entire enterprise being built up upon the collection and selling of them, but she couldn't seem to work around the ones within her own life. She wanted things transparent between the actual people within her organization so that there was trust and a lack of upsets. It was probably a pipe dream given human nature, but it was nice to think it could happen.

"Fair enough," Emelie conceded.

She wanted to say more, but the words wouldn't come. As much as they were frustrating, Vhiran's reasonings were sound. He hadn't expected things to go as they had, hells she hadn't either until they were tearing each others clothing off in the halls. Even then it was supposed to only be a one night thing and then he would go on his merry little way and Emelie would once again find herself trying not to think about him. She hadn't planned on asking Vhi to stay, hadn't planned on it being like this. That didn't necessarily make things better, just meant that this would have happened and no one would have been around to help.

Her head turned away, eyes drifting first before the motion completed. A slight metallic taste in her mouth let her know she'd been worrying the inside of her cheek too much in her moments of silence.

"Doctor said you'll live, by the way. He has some sort of expensive add in for your sticks that will keep this from happening again." Her eyes shifted back towards Vhiran, making sure they met before she spoke again. "I told him to do it. This isn't up for debate."

[Vhiran Antilles]

"You don't -"

The protest sounded weak and non-committal. Vhiran hated this. It was hard enough to argue with Emelie at the best of times - harder still to win - but doing so pinned beneath medical blankets, with needles jammed in your arms and an oxygen mask tied to your face? Vulnerability and powerlessness were the worst tortures a person could endure. No one wanted to be helpless. No one wanted to be utterly dependent.

Vhiran tried to turn, but the needle in his hand tugged at him again. With a vague scowl he reached for the tape, scratching at the edges to peel it free, and then carefully drew the needle out from within his veins. The holomovies told you that tearing it out was the way to go - yet another for the list of insanely unwise acts for the audience to emulate at home. Fumbling with the sheets, and tugging on the mask enough so it would hang around his neck, Vhiran swung his legs out, bare arse scruffing against the rough sheets as he positioned himself seated on the med bed's edge.

A hand reached out, snaring Emelie's arm with a weakened grip; but still strong enough to get the point across.

"You don't 'ave to do that, love. I made my peace with it."

[Emelie Shadowstar]

"I haven't."

She gently pried Vhiran's hand off of her arm and ensnared his fingers with hers. The motion was watched before she raised her vision to meet with his again.

"Didn't you hear me? I said this wasn't up for debate. It's going to happen. You don't get to go running off to the great beyond because you're a stubborn frakker, got it?"

A bit of her usual personality slowly slid back into place as she spoke. If Emelie was honest with herself it probably was proof that she was some sort of control freak, but if that was the case then so be it.

"If nothing else," Emelie continued, her shoulders squaring as she sat back a bit in the chair. "You're my employee now. You can work off your debt if you feel you have one."