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Xaash-tâ: Convictions

Discipline… Concentration… Relaxation… Seek the deepest and most complete stillness… The climax between the echo of the Force and total calm. Time has stopped… Not a sound remains intact, because the air cannot reach me. If Yavin's gentle breeze can't touch my skin, his sun's rays can.

I open my eyes.

The shimmering cage of light that surrounds me is foreign to me. Far too radiant for a shadow creature like me. No wonder, given its owner. But its constant calm… this fragile refuge, away from all life, from all disturbance… A meditation capsule does not offer such an authentic haven.

My mass is reduced by two, my muscular pressure is multiplied. I am free to rise, but my body remains crushed. Sailing naked in space should not be very far from my experience, although a little less warm. My legs crossed, my chest bulging, my wrists on my knees, I wait. Even if I cannot stay here indefinitely, time remains extinguished. I open myself fully to the Force, and I close my eyes.

I am one with my surroundings, and I am one with my body. I embrace who I am… what I have become… I give free rein to the ghosts of my past, to the demons of my present, and to the chimeras of my future. I feel what the Force allows me to feel, free from any foreign intrusion. The decelerating beats of my heart, the blood flowing through my veins, every organ of my insides, every limb, every particle of my carnal being. Even the cold chrome buckle that adorns my black jersey, above my plexus. And the water. This water, calm and pure, which makes its waves of light sway over my closed eyelids.

 

A chill comes over me, my brow furrows, and my lungs let out a small amount of air, which rises in terrified bubbles to the surface. A small exchange, to keep my concentration intact.

I quickly forget my real surroundings, and immerse myself in the synapses of the Force. All these paths, all these lives, these destinies… I am looking for my way. Lost in a mass of possibilities, an echo calls me. A whisper... A voice I know well... but in a strangely sinister tone...

 

"  Xaashhhhhh… tâââââââââ…  »

 

I am in the dark… The most absolute black. All I perceive is my body, which is very clear, and its reflection under my feet… What should be the ground is flooded. The very faint scarlet tint between my toes invites me to rethink the nature of fluid.

 

I am observed...

A shadow, unhealthy, constantly creeps behind my back, away from my gaze. No matter how much I turn around, she's too fast… Like a predator, she waits for the opportune moment to take me down. But I hear it.

When finally, the tearing of a lightsaber in ignition is reflected in my eardrums, I face.

 

A figure, pale and blurry, slowly advances towards me from the darkness. As she gets closer, I recognize her. Radiant like an angel, elegant like a Tarchalian gazelle, mysterious like a ghost. But it's only when she's near me that I notice the dismay in her eyes. I reach out a hand to reach his face, but space, like time, has no value here.

 

"  V-…quickly…I…I won't hold out any longer…Xx-xa…Xaash…Run away…  “, she cries, at the end of her strength.

 

It was then that the flames of my childhood came back to me. In an instant, I am plunged back into this infernal act, alone, faced with the weight of my sole responsibility, and the sacrifice which my weakness forced me to do. I was so young... I was exhausted, too...

 

A spasm irritates my neck. What is she trying to tell me  ?...

 

"Go away!... Go away...  the echania begs me again in the dark. The flames are gone. I am alone with her again.

 

A gleam, unique to her, stands out in her immaculate eyes. Although real tears escape, I read in her a kind of… hope  ? Yes… she smiles at me, faintly… Or is it just my interpretation  ?… Rather a feeling.

So I understand, without really understanding… And I'm going back. No room for doubt. I couldn't explain it, but a feeling of confidence came over me then. I know I have to leave her. Leave, and don't look behind me. I know...I'm convinced...that his sacrifice, this time, won't be one.

 

She will live...

 

"  NOAAAAAAARRRHH!!!  roars a completely different voice towards which I run.

 

Around me, the pressure rises, the water surges, everything shakes and threatens to collapse, to crush me. So I open my eyes, and go back to the surface.

 

 

 

 

[An 13 ATC / -3640 BBY]

 

As the young woman emerges, and the pure surface of the water bulges and bursts above the simple curves of her skull, Yavin's rays shimmer around her like an aura. Each drop that falls from her shoulders shimmers her majestic figure before plunging back into the pool. Beneath the morning sky and its pinkish clouds, Xaash-tâ straightens up, calm but pensive, facing the unfathomable landscape furnished with tall trees and ancient temples. There she finally inspires  : the first puff of air since the beginning of its immersion, a little over a minute ago. When she finishes emptying her lungs, silence surrounds her again. The breeze, the birds, the jungle… everything escapes him for a few moments, and allows him to think. Trying to make sense of his vision. If she has one.

What did the Force expect of her?  ?...

 

"  Tsseh… So you have a body under all these layers, finally…  »

 

Silence passes away and abandons her definitively. The birds are bawling, the wind is laughing, the trees are creaking. The pale, damp skin the sith wears bristles against the frosty breeze, and the few features that had disappeared from her face fall back in a pout of disappointment.

 

"  …Of course the first time I see you so lightly dressed.  “, sneers the big zabrak.

 

This is the first time that he has gone unnoticed, the sith would almost like to retort. Usually, no one can catch her off guard…especially not him. Since when was he watching her  ?

He's there, sitting on his leg, on a step of the stairs, in his right blind spot. Shirtless, as usual, arms crossed, head bowed. Even his breath can reach the ears of the poor woman, who has completely forgotten her meditative vibe.

 

"  I'm disturbing you  ?  he finally sighs, tired of waiting for any reaction.

 

Xaash turns back to him. Her red eyes stare at him, accompanied by a cold, disinterested look. She doesn't move a single eyelash. Andrax, on the other hand, raises an arcade. He sits up, unimpressed by the menacing look the human seems to give him, and keeps his arms crossed. His height overshadows the young sith, who nevertheless exceeds him in age by five years. He takes a step, and looks at the pool for a moment, then at the woman again.

 

"  You were snorkeling  ? To do what  ?...  »

 

"  I can help you with something  ?  she cuts him off, as if he had just interrupted her intimacy on the evac-tube.

 

The great zabrak bares his teeth. After all the effort he had to make to come talk to her face to face, alone… It was the first time. But Lizz was right  : Xaash was in the best position to help her. And out of the question for the little twi'lek to accompany him  ; she'd been trying to avoid the sith's gaze as much as possible since they met. Him on the other hand… it was more delicate. He had to try. If not for him, at least for Jahnelthra. On the other hand, with anyone else, he would have given up by now…or worse. So he sets off.

 

"  …Mouai.  “, he admits, lowering his head. It wasn't going to be easy. "  I'm being sent to the front on Hoth. At least a week. Got no more cred on me, and Jah wants me... How she said, already  ? … “invest me”… Tsseh. Finally… You know how to make an exception, you. You can write it to me fissa, make sure it's as well paid, but elsewhere, less cold, and above all shorter...  »

 

At his request, which is almost not one given the intonation, Xaash suddenly seems confused.

 

"  Why do you come to see me  ?  »

 

"  Can't write... well...  “, tries to correct the red warrior. "  And Jah wants me to get over it, just to piss me off… I don't get it, she can't even count her cred cards anymore, and she wants me to help pay for my food. And Lizz's.  “, he gets angry then, all alone.

 

The young woman remains in the center of the swimming pool, upright like an honor guard, distant like a spy. She tries to get a better idea of her new horned roommate. She had met him more than a month ago, but few had been the times when they had been able to really exchange. Far from being curious, she too should at least try to have a relationship with her friend's boyfriend. Otherwise their new way of life would not last long.

Suspicious but also somewhat awkward, she then asks, in her still dark voice  :

 

"  And since when do you get tired of being paid to unleash your rage on the enemies of the Empire?  ?  »

 

Andrax curls his upper lips, a look of disgust appears on his face, and his foot begins to tap. He growls. The Empire  ? Seriously, she was thinking about that  !

 

"  Since it's been at least… minus fifty  ! I don't want to work away for long. You just have to take my place, if you really want to lick your Emperor's pumps.  »

 

The new Fury begins to boil. His eyes narrow, his teeth clench, as the wind picks up. How dare he  ? He was his Emperor too, and to forget him would be treason.  ! But to tell the truth, she had seen this side of Andrax many times before. The great zabrak was actually more of a mercenary than a true sith. She mustn't forget it, that's all. Jahnelthra had even told him the day before that he had never set foot on Korriban. Had he only passed a few legitimate tests at least  ? She doubted it.

 

"  I have more urgent business on Kaas. Reconsider the question… A week isn't much to ask. Many others stay there for years.  “, she explains to him with reason. "  You have to know how to make concessions, sacrifices during your life, if you want to move forward. If your Twi'lek protege is your responsibility, assume it. I think Hoth will do you the greatest good.  “, she concludes, as if she was making the decision for him. At least, that's how the great zabrak interprets it.

 

Andrax poses heavily, or rather bangs his fists on the edges of the pool. Small waves come crawling towards the thighs of Xaash, who does not flinch. Muscular men…Always loud on the surface, but not so smart or even dangerous after all, she told herself.

 

"  I don't think you get it... I'm not going. Fuck me on Nez Peron, or a good old Balmorra at worst, with a pocket full of stims and I'll scrape it off quickly  ! Hoth, no but… and what else  ? Grrrrmh… The question is  : Are you going to help me, or not  !?  he growls.

 

He is exhausted, he contains himself. Her amber eyes don't take their eyes off the sith. Xaash can see a growing hatred there. For her, it is still the hatred of a child, refusing to do his duty. A child who still hasn't understood the importance of one of life's crucial lessons. A lesson she had learned in the dungeon of Kaas, long ago, and which had accompanied her in the decisive moments that had led to her ascension.

 

"  Hey  ! I'm still here, I'm telling you  !...  », the great warrior is impatient. Another lesson he should learn  : patience.

 

Xaash clenches his fists, squints like him, and deems the zabrak unworthy of his concern or pity.

 

"  …You have my answer.  “, then decides the sith, who privileges her own convictions, rather than helping the friend of a friend.

 

"  RHAAAH  !! Great  ! Thank you for nothing, ul'chhkeï amkrak...  !  enraged Andrax, who turned around and cursed, muttering.

 

On his way, he gives a masterful kick in a small potted shrub, which flies away to smash behind one of the waterfalls that adorns the mountains of the lovely fortress.

No. Decidedly, these two together, it was not going to work.

 

 

 

 

[A week later…]

 

A sweet scent of flower and spice reaches my nostrils as Jahnelthra pours the cinnabar contents of an elegant bottle into her glass in front of me. It is a Tarul, fermented and raised on Naboo, which dates from the Treaty. A good year, even for a wine. When she raises the glass to her luscious lips, I can't help but imagine the dozens of credits flowing indirectly into her stomach with the slightest sip. Quite a usual salary for a simple drink. Jahnelthra's exorbitant taste for luxury, especially when it comes to cooking, remains an eternal mystery to my taste buds.

 

"  Mh- sorry, you want some…  ?  she asks me, suddenly embarrassed by my gaze.

 

She hands me her glass over the table. It's dark, but his simple gesture makes the only candle that lights us flicker. And the candle, with its dim light, in turn vibrates the small piece of black rock where we have taken refuge. No guards, no butlers, no zabrak.

 

"  I never drink alcohol. We both know that, it disgusts me. »

 

"  And that's too bad… You don't know what you're missing. Just one evening, with a drink or two, soft music and a good guy…and it would change your life, sister.  she confides to me, leaning back in her silk armchair.

 

I just have to tilt my head to the side, raise an eyebrow, and stare at her. She smiles at me, and closes her eyes, sweeping the air with her hand  ; the candle dances, the rock grimaces. We understand each other.

 

"  So… who begins  ?  “, she asks, putting her glass on a corner of the small carved wooden table that separates us.

 

She is already rubbing her hands. I like the look of defiance in his eyes. So I leave the honors to him, and sit cross-legged in my chair, a glass of sugar water within reach.

It's no surprise that she opens with her favorite piece. The k'lor slug. The small golden fingers of the echania move the small sculpture two squares to its right.

In one of his first dejarik defeats against me, Jahnelthra literally crushed the coin with his hands. Back then she was like all the other rooms  : made of glass. After a week of bandages, Jahnelthra had understood the lesson, and I had made him this piece of orowood, to replace it on the set. She looked a little disparate among the others, but she was unique. And to the opalescent eyes of the echania, she represented a little more. Its details fascinated her. Quite frankly, she adored and praised my poor creation in an exaggerated way. When you tinker, adding details quickly becomes intoxicating, that's all. Not what in…

 

She is waiting for me. I look at the board succinctly, and move my houjix to the second ring, one space to its left, as usual without making the effort to pick it up physically. As long as I don't read my opponent's mind, the Force is not outlawed.

 

However, I prefer to indulge in a completely different form of mind reading.

 

As Jahnelthra concentrates on the table, and leaves her wine for a few moments, I don't hesitate to decipher the woman as best I can, just with my eyes. Understanding how people think often says a lot about them. I already knew all about his ambitions, his dreams, but his psychology sometimes remains mysterious.

 

In just five years, she had gone from a young Sith fresh out of Korriban to the largest shareholder in the Czerka Corporation, messenger to the Dark Council, and the main wealth of the entire Empire. She had fought on many fronts, tamed some of the worst barons of the Hutt underworld, and joined the highest ranks of Alderaan nobility. No one could accomplish so much without absolute devotion, perfect self-confidence and a minimum of sacrifice along the way. This is exactly what intrigues me...

 

"  Yours.  », whispers my lovely adversary.

 

His molator moved. However, it already seems to be taking risks. Risks that had led to his loss in the last game. So I wait and bring forward my reaper. So many possibilities open up with every move, so many paths for the same game that it's almost impossible to see the end of it before it's too late. Just like in life, we must do the best we can, as far as our vision can take us. But Jahnelthra stares at victory, his victory. And as the game lengthens, I begin to perceive the strings of the echania.

Her insatiable pleasure… no… her real need to plan everything, to plan everything, manipulate and control away from my gaze. That's how she's always been. Since I met her. She hates chance, when she seems so good at games. Maybe she's faking that luck everyone knows she has  ?

 

Here it is starting again. She sacrifices her k'lor slug, simply to attempt an attack on my pieces. I do not question his faculties and the effectiveness of his stratagems. In dejarik, she has at least as many victories to her account as me. Very often, I don't see it coming. But that's exactly what worries me. Jahnelthra is a free spirit, an unpredictable, mischievous and perverse character. A potential danger to herself, in our Empire. Many sith do not approve of her rank, or are jealous of her. The others seem to distrust it like the rakghoul plague.

 

Jahnelthra suddenly raises her icy eyes to me. A small smirk appears on his lips.

Does she spy on me too  ? Does she analyze me like I do  ? …Are you listening to me, Jahn…  ?

Nothing…

Never underestimate an echania.

 

My eyes then land on the only piece removed from the board. The k'lor slug. This is precisely where I wanted to come from. She didn't get there because of a mistake. Jahnelthra is the kind of person willing to sacrifice his favorite pawns, if it can bring him victory.

 

 

 

 

[An 1 ATC / -3652 BBY]

 

Today is her birthday. A date of no interest to the sith of the Empire, but on this day, Xaash is 13 years old. How does she know  ? She estimates him, within a few hours. From where she is, there's no way of knowing if it's day or night outside. For almost a week, she hasn't been able to tell the time, the weather, and hasn't heard a voice other than that of her stomach, which is crying out for hunger. She breathes only moisture and feels only cold. All she knows how to do is sleep, wait, and think… think too much. Today, Xaash is 13 years old, and awaits death in a cell in the dungeon of Dromund Kaas.

 

What a disappointment… the weapon she was about to become, the multiple smiths who had overseen her shaping, all the battles she had thought she was destined to win in their names… And like that, in a snap finger, the ultimate weapon is broken, and disappoints everyone, while the war is just beginning. Just a year ago, Malgus himself walked over the rubble of the Jedi Temple. The false peace that was established would only fan the embers of greater conflict. A conflict she had prepared for. Peace wasn't the only lie, his life was too.

 

The young girl, lying down, curled up on herself in the corner of her stone cell, already feels herself leaving. Hunger, thirst, but above all the cold, transform her little by little into a statue of shame. A statue that the imperial archives would curse until the end of time. For such was his duty.

 

Shortly before the sack of Coruscant, Darth Azamin, head of the Dark Council's Military Strategy sphere, had been assassinated by a small team of Jedi. The latter had been able to infiltrate the capital thanks to the help of Dark Decimus, who recovered the seat of Azamin. But today, doubts persisted, rumors ran, and no one believed in a simple assassination of the Jedi. Many were looking for a traitor in the Empire. Decimus, from his throne, was unreachable. They needed a scapegoat to quiet the crowd, and she was the perfect candidate to sacrifice. A mere apprentice, indoctrinated by the enemy upon the death of her parents…it could work.

 

Only a few days ago, she was training alongside her master, Lord Erengler. His progress secretly made them proud. Suddenly, without warning, a high-ranking pureblood had entered the gymnasium, and while he was whispering the details to Erengler, a handful of guards had come to grab Xaash.

Two days later, Erengler had come to bid farewell to his apprentice in the dungeon. It was the first time he showed any expression in front of his student. A deep regret could be read in his eyes. He had explained everything to her, she knew why she was going to die. All she had to do was accept it. To confess her guilt when we come looking for her. A lie, an undignified death - possibly public stoning - so that the Empire can live prosperously. On the honor of his patriotism, it was his duty. If she was truly loyal, she had no choice but to accept it, and do her best when the time came.

 

His short life returns like a vague memory in his head. A memory that will soon die with her. The family, the flames, the revenge, Zash, Althe, then all the other masters who taught her.

Master Wikkel, fervent friend of Zash, who had put her back on her feet after the weeks of slavery she had just endured. Master Demolunn, whose psychological support was sometimes soothing. Master Liother, who had increased his Force abilities more than anyone. Master Maygoll, fearsome swordsman who had honed his fighting style. Master Ponzoggel, who had perfected it after him. Master Peirenox, whose historical archives overflowed from his apartments. Master Sib'lekt, ennobled wisdom, and Master Erengler, that great poet. He still had so much to teach him. Each of these sith had perfected Xaash in many areas. Although the lessons of life, lightsaber combat and the teaching of the Force were a common core for each teacher, they all had their specific little characteristic that remained ingrained in the mind of their student. By dying like this, she disappointed them all. By refusing, she would shame them.

 

So she accepted her fate. She accepted everything. Death, dishonor, suffering, lies, Her line ended there, and the Empire went on without her. After all, what was a life compared to its own people  ? It was painful, it still is. Nobody likes to know that they are close to death in an unforeseen, anticipated way. But if you had to die, you might as well be convincing.

A sacrifice, for a greater cause.

 

 

So the last dawn came. The final rest before the final rest. The definitive moment of solitude that succumbs to the decisive moment of servitude. After a short night full of dreams about her missing family, the pretty child prepares for the end. She meditates, upright and solid, determined and infallible, docile and open to what awaits her, come what may. She believes in the Force. She always has.

 

"  Xaash. Apprentice of Dark Erengler. You are accused of high treason against your Empire and your Emperor. You are accused of having contributed to the death of Lord Azamin. You are accused of having made a pact with our enemy, the Jedi Order. Do you confess your crimes  ?  »

 

The small voice, tired, broken, dry, old, but bold of the young sith escapes from her mouth like an autumn evening wind.

 

"  …I am guilty of these crimes.  »

 

 

The young human awaits her fate, head lowered, facing the inquisitor, of whom she sees only the sharp steel boots sticking out of her purple frock. She closes her eyes when she hears the click of a gun coming off her belt. The screeching of a metal blade slicing through the air as it activates causes his lungs to clog. It will be quick.

 

"  In this case… the sentence is irrevocable.  said the gravelly voice beneath the mask of death.

 

The blade slices through the air again, then crashes down  !

 

"  You passed the last of my tests successfully. I have nothing more to teach you.  »

 

Xaash unclenches teeth, fists, then eyelids. When his eyes meet the heavy blade of the inquisitor, planted in the stone at his feet, his head is raised. Erengler had just removed his mask. Behind him in the corridor, Lords Goss and Reyzek, Zash's colleagues, waited with a few guards, impressed. Only then does she understand, and heaves a very slight sigh, a tiny relief. Death was not going to feast on her today. The world was not going to despise her for no reason. She could always bring glory and honor to her Empire. She then looks at her master, who expresses nothing but a subtle pride in his eyes, and bows to him to thank him for his learning. As for the others, had they come to transfer her from Erengler to her next master, or simply to brag about her success in Zash's ears?  ?

Slowly, she gets up, weakened but triumphant. She leans on the double blade planted in the ground, and there she is again. His master joins the others in the corridor, when a voice begins to spread, louder and louder, between the walls of the dungeon. A young woman, it would seem. That voice… she doesn't know it. But she quickly understands what it is. Cries, tortures, tears, resound in the corridor and approach. Finally, the guards and sith waiting for Xaash step back to let another platoon of guards pass, dragging a skinny acolyte out of the dungeon, who screams her innocence at the top of her lungs.

 

 

 

 

[An 15 ATC / -3638 BBY]

 

I woke up for the fourth time tonight. No particular dreams, but no way to stay asleep. My body is not sleepy, my mind even less so. I keep tossing and turning in my bed, but my thoughts are endless. I can't bring myself to it, I can't accept this transgression. This violation of the Force... I can't reproduce it.

In less than two months, we will have to find a way to defeat the most powerful fanatic in the galaxy. And right now, the only solution, Jahnelthra's only plan... goes against my deepest beliefs.

I'm in no mood to sleep. What's the point  ?

I then decide to get up. My bare feet slip on the stone, and it's without a sound that I escape from the room we share, at the foot of one of the towers of the fortress. I take the spiral staircases and rise to the top of the millennial column.

 

As I climb the steps, I can feel the cool air, the gentle night breeze from Yavin IV making me shiver. Maybe I should have dressed a little more. Too bad. My black babydoll isn't the hottest thing, but I quickly get used to it. Above me is the pergola, enthroned in the middle of the rooftop balcony. When my head finally comes outside, past the ceiling, I notice I'm not alone. Someone else can't sleep, it seems.

Legs in the void and shoulders low, Andrax sits facing the multiple moons dotting the dark sky with a very slight purplish tint. He doesn't move an inch. If I didn't know him so well, I might have thought he was depressed. His breathing is slow, calm, like that of an old reek. And he stays there, gazing at the stars, or the landscape that serves as their cradle. I don't move either, hesitating to leave him alone. But I can't, and I walk towards him.

When I sit down beside him, and plunge my legs into the rugged night in my turn, he slowly turns his face towards me, without saying anything. He wears only boxer shorts, but that doesn't bother me, and my presence doesn't seem to bother him either. His eyes seem empty of all hatred. Either he is very tired, or something is bothering him, too. It must be said that the day was long.

"  Everything is fine…  ?  I then ask, almost too shyly.

 

He takes a while to respond. I've never seen him think alone, in his corner, as I often do. With what's going on right now, I can only understand. So I use my patience. That I know how to do. Listen too, but reassure, much less...

 

"  Mmm…  he sighs. "  I'm trying to clear my mind, if everything...  »

 

I can only sympathize. With all the carnage we've grown accustomed to seeing in our lives as a Sith, it can be soothing to sit down for a moment and take stock. Otherwise, we would quickly go crazy. And nothing like a wide landscape to do this.

 

"  You changed your mind  ?...  », he then asks me by chance, as if he could read what was working on me this evening.

 

I respond to her whatever comes to mind, explaining the Force's views, risks, and why it matters so much to me. Very quickly I get lost in somewhat complex explanations but which are the source of the debate which rages in my mind, and which still opposes me to Jahnelthra.

When my eyes meet those of the zabrak again, I realize that he hasn't followed anything. Of course he has, but it's a waste of time for him. He is even disappointed that I did not realize this sooner. His ignorance, which ordinarily would have rather bored me, amuses me this evening. Yes, the situation pushes me to smile discreetly while lowering my head. I apologize. He mocks. I think I will forever remain a mysterious creature to him, as he is to me.

 

We both remain facing the view, the dark trees, the silvery falls and the distant stars. The silence that reigns between us lends itself to the noble sight. We don't mind. I know because none of us sigh. And when my patience finally pays off, the zabrak inhales slowly, calmly, then blocks before opening up to me.

 

"  …I don't know what to do with Lizz.  »

 

I simply turn my head to the left, to listen to him. His gaze is distant, focused on the horizon. His hands have not moved, they are in a ball, one inside the other, between his legs.

 

"  I've risked his skin too many times already. With me, she fears too much. And… I don't want to lose her… I can't. Not her…  Take a dump. »

 

He clenches his teeth. It's not because of the breeze. I'm not surprised that the idea finally crosses his mind. I no longer underestimate Andrax, and I know he cares about the twi'lek more than his own life. Cronos must have spoken to him again, I imagine. Or he's rehashing an old piece of advice that he really didn't like. Anyway, I stay tuned, and don't say a word. Sometimes that's the best thing to do, in other people's experience.

When he no longer speaks much, we still wait some time in the deep night. No looks, no gestures, we simply share this moment of reflection without anxiety like two old friends on the roof of the world. Sincerity and respect… compassion and wisdom… fraternity… friendship…

 

The breeze whistles a little more, and the two-hearted warrior finally sighs. No boredom this time, but rather relief. I can feel it. He puts his big hands noisily on his knees, and prepares to go back to bed.

 

"  What will you do…  Drake...?  ", I ask him.

 

The tall zabrak grimaces. It is not decided, I know it. But finally, he admits to me with a heavy sorrow that he hides well  :

 

"  She should live her life… after this shit. Far from me... far from all that... I don't care...  »

 

He rubs his face, then decides to leave. When he gets up, he makes a simple gesture, a very small nothing at all, which nevertheless surprises me. Andrax puts a hand on my shoulder. Was he so upset that he needed to lean on me to get up  ? Or was he just… thanking me  ?

Before I can come out of my thoughts to say goodnight, the zabrak descends the stairs to join his sweetheart. I am alone again, facing the night, and my questions.

 

And I sigh, too.

Andrax was no longer a child. He had freed himself from his whims, his selfishness, and fully assumed his responsibility towards Lizz. Even if he was going to take time to accept it, he was ready to carry a heavy burden, to accept a great sacrifice, for the sake of his little sister. She had her own voice in the final issue, of course. And still the galaxy had to survive… but our great zabrak had opened. He had risen, and had all my respect. He was far from the zabrak I had known two years ago. He was a man now.

 

Inevitably, this brings me back to my own reflection. Sometimes sticking to your beliefs is noble, honorable, right. But the galaxy isn't all black and white. A dazzling day always casts a multitude of shadows on the ground  ; the darkest night is always pierced by the hope of a moon, a star or a simple firefly. What was I saying  ? Sometimes the sacrifice is not to hold on, to endure, to endure to the end, and to close our eyes. Sometimes it's about surpassing yourself… evolving. To make the ultimate effort, to open up to the unknown, at the expense of your own good, and accept what comes next.

 

Did Andrax just pave the way for me  ?

 

 

 

 

[?? /  ????]

 

Previously, this planet was like all the others. Living in a lasting balance, the creatures that prowled there hunted each other for the sole purpose of feeding. Today, the real monsters of the city in the heart of the jungle are stalking each other for power. No society, no form of life can hope to prosper from corruption, greed, lies and jealousy. Everything lives in a delicate balance, possible only thanks to the energy that surrounds us and binds us to the universe.

Discord,… dissidence… is the only possible path if nothing changes. In many thousands of years of civilizations, this has proven to be a reality time after time.

Unfortunately, the peoples concerned collapse long before they realize it. You can believe in fate, or you can forge it. No one is immortal though. Behind every life hides an eternity of rest. And no one can hope to escape this fate.

Eternity... Any creature that can understand this concept covets it one day or another. So I had to look into the matter myself. I had to understand. Maybe everything would make sense after that.

Terrible mistake. There is no point in rationing everything. Sometimes you have to accept to live surrounded by mysteries, which will be eternal. Dwelling on understanding them can drive even the most perceptive insane. Time and space are much more accessible notions than what is beyond time or space. Again, I was curious.

Well almost. Time and space have been curious to me.

No. You can't play with the threads of the universe. Sometimes strange, incomprehensible things happen, but the entity that we share in all of us understands them. Governing all of this is not up to us, because we are the pawns.

 

I was so young and so naive when it all started. Child of the jungle, raised in the secrecy of the city.

Seeing the capital for the very first time was a spectacle. There were so many lightning crackling on the skyscrapers. Apparently it didn't bother anyone. As I was taken to a place where I will not see the clouds for six years, I stood with my head in the air. There was no finer picture for me than all these shades of darkness, in constant motion. Similar, but never identical.

A three-year-old boy has few memories, but I knew no one would take me away from the fury of the sky forever. Naturally, I also remember a violent mental disorder, a terrible disturbance, in the back of my mind, which terrified me to the utmost, perhaps a year later...a brief event, which all the inhabitants of the planet at the time remember sharing…

Master after master, lesson after lesson, fight after fight... As I prepared to become a new kind of sith, my captors were tricked. No one owns the fate of others. If they wanted to erase my memory, they couldn't. Not all the bodies were found. Nor the data collected on me, on what I was becoming. Thanks to my faculties, I escaped before it was too late. Hiding in the mountains at only twelve years old, I did not know that I would find my salvation there.

Alone, I didn't know who I was, what I was, or where I came from. With my few snippets of memories in mind, I was nobody. Neither more nor less than another of these ghosts that haunts the planet. Defining yourself in a world of which you are not a part is never easy.

And it was then that the mountain in which I had taken refuge devoured me. Without warning, lightning struck my side, and the cave crushed me. Luckily, I was still alive. I couldn't be found here, it was dark, and I was alone for miles around. It seemed to me that I was going to die here. Just a child, lost in total darkness, with no way out or hope.

 

Paradoxically, it was in my misfortune that the miracle that saved me came. A breach in the rock opened up for me. It wasn't a crack in the stone, but a portal. At the time I thought I was being welcomed by death.

Crossing the portal, I left this world for a completely different dimension. A dimension beyond time and space.

In reality, death is described as a similar experience. Loneliness, darkness, coldness, and finally a blinding light.

Then a vision that seemed to last three years appeared to me. Reliving the period of my life, from an outside perspective, from when I was born until I left home, opened my eyes to who I really was. To see my parents, my sister, my home again more clearly than ever, fills me with deep joy. It turns out that I only learned about the fire many years later. Near the end of my vision, I awoke at the foot of the mountain, only a moment before a shard from the sky caused the cave to crumble before my eyes a second time. Was I then viewing my own death  ? In reality, I had rather been offered a second chance… but I quickly discovered that, to my great surprise, three years had really passed.

Dromund and his jungle still welcomed me for the next two years, as a hermit. As I practiced controlling my abilities in the wild, I also learned a lot about my ancient people. Having found nothing about my family after months of work, not even the location of my own house, I decided to conduct research in the Imperial archives. Secretly, I infiltrated it, but I realized after a while that it was all doomed.

My mind then reluctantly tried to focus on studying my strange and still uncontrollable powers, at least until something new sheds more light on my origins. While I was devouring the old collection of an old madman, a hermit like me, talking about the link between the storms of the planet and the universal energy, which he believed to be his own wife, I was surprised.

Wanting to escape the overwhelming wrath of the Imperial archivists, I soon decided to leave the planet for a while, slipping aboard a freighter. It turns out that my absence lasted longer than expected. In fact… much longer.

 

Carried hither and thither, I was soon directed to the outer rim, when an accident occurred. An asteroid, perhaps, forced the ship to crash into a planet.

Waking up in the middle of the flames, the only survivor, I didn't know where I had landed. Sorgaïa, the planet of a thousand hurricanes, was not going to let me leave anytime soon.

Funny coincidence, I was able to practice everything I needed to learn. Finally, year after year, I saw myself becoming master of myself. Living in the greatest of solitudes was nothing new to me. In truth, it was better that way, given the damage I was causing around me. Still not knowing anything about what had become of my family, I sowed destruction, always on a larger scale, and also strengthened my body. A hermit, without parents, without his sister, lost on a lost planet, training without any real purpose. I missed her, since my vision… yes, especially her…

But unhappiness is no more eternal than you and me. After twelve long years of isolation in the land of storms, I was finally rescued.

Dwelling on what followed would be pointless. In a short time, I was able to see my home again. That's all that matters. The home I had abandoned. The planet, but above all the roof under which I was born. And what I had heard turned out to be partly true. A fire had broken out, just a year after I had been taken from them. Nothing but a pile of cold ashes remained. And my parents, my house, my past, were gone.

Absolutely everything I wanted had been consumed by the flames…everything but you. My sister. Only you remained. And wherever you might be, I couldn't find you.

 

As I write these words, I don't know what will happen. Seeing the future is not my strong point, I only apply it, like all of us. In dreams, I imagine myself next to you, falling asleep in your arms, free from duty, contemplating my work, helpless and desperate. It's only a dream though, because if I can protect you and your friends, I know when I wake up that our family will never be reunited.

You yourself wouldn't be able to recognize me, under my rags and my black hood. Watching your progress makes me so proud. It took me a long time to find you on this moon-jungle, in this elegant fortress.

Jungles and temples kept attracting us, it would seem. And yet, we will never hug each other.

Sorgaïa is not a planet like the others, the weather is different there. A year for you was like four for me when I was stuck there. Here, on this planet or another, you only spent three years, when I gained twelve. If you can put it that way…I'm older than you today, big sister.

By reviewing our childhood spent together, I was able to get an idea of who our dear parents were. Don't be afraid to disappoint them. Doing what needs to be done to protect your people is a noble thing. They loved you, just like they loved me. We serve our causes, our values, our convictions, one hundred percent, and that's what counts.

Giving me to the Sith in your place was probably the heaviest sacrifice they've ever had to make. You can't blame them, when you know like me what happened that day. They had no other choice….

But sacrifice is a lesson all Sith must learn, sooner or later. Being taken away so you could stay allowed the galaxy to make you who you are today. Despite all your suffering, despite who I have become, you remain sincere. And that's a rare find among the Sith, as I said earlier.

 

Oh, my sister, I'm sure the universe has great plans for you and your friends.

Andrax, the warrior no chain can hold. Lizz, his protege, so innocent, so fair, so fragile. It is only about the echania that my doubts persist… Xaash, my beloved sister, the future is uncertain to me, but there are still things in this world of which I am convinced.

My life is devoted to you, my blood belongs to you, my future depends on yours. No one can tear me away from this sacred mission. No one will ever be able to.

So I stay in the shadows. My eyes on your sweet face. Obscure will be my acts sometimes, but always they will help you to advance towards your glorious future. One day, perhaps, I will see you again… however, alas, I doubt it. Just a moment, a simple moment, would fill my poor heart.

Never has a man had so much ambition… devotion. It will carry me to victory, your victory... and that of those you already cherish, without even knowing it.

You are everything to me, sister…you are all I have left….

So ends my story. I have nothing left to write, everything is said. But above all remember, my dear sister, that I love you... I will always love you. And I will only love you.

2020) Xaash-tâ 2 (Eva Green)_edited.jpg
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