A name is a powerful word. It holds memory, personality and sometimes it even holds symmetry to the one that holds it. It may be a legacy or even a destiny, a gift or a curse. To truly lose a name that holds so much is difficult, but when done can open up the Universe anew. I was sixteen when they arrived and I left my name behind.

[] Alpheridies []
[] Re-Cultivated Region C []
[] Port Town - Celesis []

I had never been brought up to think about the future. My days were filled with sunrises and sunsets and the sea. The days ran by quickly with the cycles of the tide but the shorelines always remained the same. We lived on a sparser part of the community and were the only distant relatives other than the tanners. My father knew how to pick his spots and soon we had more fish than we could deal with. I was nine when my father first took me out to sea in our little wooden boat that I had gazed at with wonder so many times and I could barely believe that I was able to go out in it. My mother, holding my younger brother to her breast, waved fondly and turned away. A moment of panic grabbed me. The shore became smaller and smaller, the undulating space between us stretching further and further. I wanted to shout but my father turned me to the horizon. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The light played off the sharp edge of the sea and drew something from me that I never really thought about. I felt desire for the first time and it both exhilarated me and filled me with a sense of foreboding. I knew I wasn’t in the right place. Thankfully, my childhood hid this from me for many years. Most of my time was spent going to a communal school; one of the fancier buildings run by the government and placed in the Town centre. It was huge, rounded and engraved in gold and white and towered over the more modest wood and stone houses. Children from similar areas would be grouped together and taken into the side rooms to be taught about the history, culture and traditions of the Miraluka but no one wanted to learn about that. I lived too far away from the others to make any real friends, but once the subject of the Force came up our questions became a chorus of unison. Those moments were few and far between; mostly because afterwards that was the only subject discussed both in the classroom and afterwards. We would gather any implement we could, pinch a curtain from somewhere and as soon as it covered our shoulders we would be Jedi, battling evil far away in the galaxy. My mother would laugh as I returned home, cloaked in rags and wielding a stick, protecting her from an unseen spectre with great enthusiasm. She was an artisan, a crafting of pottery and the occasional sculpture. One cool winter, after I burst through the door waving my arms about to mystically lift chairs and move furniture, I noticed something on a side table. My mother had sculpted me as a man, standing upon a rock of sorts and wielding a lightsaber. The expression was soft yet strong and it looked up to the sky. I thanked her a million times and every night after that I would watch it before sleep took me away, dreaming of a life full of adventure as a Jedi. It wasn’t until a few years later that it became a true possibility. The Luka Sene have been always been the most direct mystical part of our culture, although the Jedi are far reaching and are certainly strongly connected to the Force, it is the Luka Sene that represent our spiritual side. They were, and remain to be, some of the foremost seers in the Galaxy and their reputations precede them. As soon as I was old enough, I became a fisherman in training and helped my father with his work. As there were few seas on Alpheridies and although most of our meat came from the land, a trend for aquatic dishes had appeared and the demand tripled over a short amount of time. Soon, the small boat I had looked at with wonder stayed upside down on the shore by my house and was replaced by a bigger boat, its second-hand sails well used. It held a crane with which to haul more of a catch and it had engines - something we thought we would never be able to afford. It required the help of three people, myself being one and the other being my fathers brother. He was a gruff man, used to working the lands and at times had trouble with the ebb and flow of the sea. His stomach got used to it, and soon we three were on the water every day. My mother put up a fight in the beginning but she could sense my unease. Something about school, about the town or maybe the people there sent a strange fear through me. Not of the corporeal, but something that was soon to be there. It’s difficult to lie to a Miraluka, not impossible unless you were my mother. She knew it was serious and only agreed to let me fish if I would study at home with her. And of course, I agreed with much excitement. Once I hit puberty, I knew what I wanted to do. I was fifteen, almost sixteen, and my life at the care of the sea showed proudly. My skin glowed with my time spent in the sun and my hair was rough and light. Working with the sea took your time, your focus and your energy but it gave you strength, a good appetite and a good nights sleep. It was almost enough to make me feel content. Then came my birthday and a thought came to me whilst I was mindlessly practicing knots. My mother and father had told me that it would be an important day and sent me outside. They didn’t leave the house or give any indication as to what they were doing but the sounds of moving furniture gave it away. I was happy in that moment. It can be cold on Alpheridies, even with the sun but that day was perfectly calm and warm. I uncoiled a piece of rope and retied it again and again. I kept going until my hands were sore. The sun was a little lower and it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. My stomach told me it was time to spoil the surprise - birthday party or not, hunger always drove me then. It was then that I noticed the sound had stopped. Not just from my house, everywhere. The fires that heated the hide in the tanners opposite were out, their voices silent. Although there was little avian life in Alpheridies, those that ate scraps along the shore were gone. No crunch, no shuffle, not even a breeze. The hairs on the back of my neck itched and I stood up quickly, the rope falling from my hands. Nothing. I walked to my door. It was open. There was a man in my house, in our house. His back was to me but I noticed my parents first. Calm, seated, facing forward, their emotions neutral. My brother was nowhere to be seen. The man turned around and it took a single moment for me to turn and flee. Dark armor and an angry helmet. I dreamt of that for a while before I discovered worse. I sped through the sparse structures until I came to the long road heading to town. I passed the fields and there more armored beings stood watch over the farmers, their gaunt expressions loose. I sped up only to realise that I was headed towards the school. I passed by the buildings without looking, I already knew everyone was under the strange spell that my parents were. Breathless I arrived at the rear entrance but a sudden exchange of words made me hold my panting.

“Vespark Ma’aksaeth?”

The voice was grainy and rough but not unpleasant. I’ll admit I was more than a little frightened to know a stranger was asking about me but I don’t remember much about it. what I do remember is hearing my teachers voice. Calm, unshaken and confident say:

“We don’t know where he is. But that does not matter. These two far surpass his potential and are more suited for your needs.”

A stone dropped somewhere in my mind and I could barely keep my rage subdued to stay hidden. My whole body felt like it was on fire and for a moment I was sure I had given myself away through the Force. There was the briefest of pauses but it passed. The stranger grunted as if displeased and the group moved on. I peeked down the side of the school and found my brother sitting with the rest of the students. A nausea passed through me that I wasn’t mature enough to understand and I moved to pick up my brother. He wouldn’t respond either and sat slumped against the ground but with no indication that he was harmed. I was relieved. He was heavy but I managed to pull him under the arms to the side of the school where he couldn’t be seen and propped him up and without thinking hugged him. I knew what I was going to do before I really thought about it and it scared me. I didn’t want him and my mother to miss me or my father to be left with his brother to fish and I didn’t want to miss them either. I knew I would. I let a little sob come out, kissed him on his cheek and for the first time in my life I prayed. I prayed that all would be well with my family and that my father could manage and that my mother wouldn’t be sad for too long and that my brother would have great luck in his life. I did it all in one breath, but most of all, I hoped that I would come back. That’s really the moment I left, at least in my head. I stood up as straight as I could and walked tall. It didn’t take long to follow one of the armored guys and find the shuttle they were on and sneak on board. Doesn’t make sense does it? That’s truly what happened. I’ve relived it so many times that I’m sure I left just like that. There was nothing I missed or forgot, I just realised how quiet the town was. I saw my brother in the square and something clicked. It was like everyone was moving too slowly for me to feel comfortable and I needed to find a speed I was comfortable with. Later on, before Sashar passed, I asked him about this and unfortunately he was drunk at the time, but he laughed and said one thing before changing the subject:

“Ad’ika, you were too good to know how good you were.”

He didn’t like to look to the past very often, mostly when he was roaring drunk. To be honest, I’m not so sure why I did it but something pushed me. I didn’t feel guilt when I left, just an overwhelming sense of awe. I realised how tall I’d grown but in comparison to everything else, the galaxy, the universe, I was a speck. I guess what I’m trying to say, is that the moment I heard Sashar speak my name I was free of it. I moved and everything moved with me. I still wonder though and see my life move down a different path, albeit a monotonous one. It wouldnt have been so bad to have fished my whole life and never seen the stars. But I do miss my ocean, on that day, and the way the light played on the waves.

Adam Bolera’s Citadel Quarters, Estele City, Selen
0233 Hours, Year 37 ABY

I was having a great deal of difficulty sleeping. For Force sensitives, this wasn’t a new concept, but rather it was almost normalcy. Having a fleeting connection to every living creature in the galaxy was an interesting talent, but it came with the drawback of making one aware of a lot more things than they’d like to be. For me, though, it was a little different. I wasn’t troubled because I sensed something bad happening in the streets far below the Citadel, or an animal dying, or uncertain visions of the future, or much of anything that typically made insomniacs out of Jedi. No, I was instead haunted by memories. Rather than wallow in the frustration of being sleepless, I opted to do what I could to deal with my demons.

I sat up out of bed and walked into the center of the room. One thing the Jedi successfully managed to drill into my head was the importance of meditating whenever I was constantly troubled by something. I spread my legs apart and stood stock-still at the heart of the room; another thing that I had learned in my travels were Broken Gate stances, very helpful in centering myself for meditation. My armory saber floated out in front of me, though it wasn’t as therapeutic as disassembling and reassembling one of my own design. The stock parts lacked character, identity, and they were fairly ugly, but I still felt close enough to the weapon to help the pieces float apart with ease, the green synth-crystal still at the heart of the deconstructed hilt. I focused on that glimmering emerald stone, however artificial it may have been, tried to let it take me back to the forests of Ossus, back to the night I left my world behind…

Ossus Jedi Praxeum
1143 Hours, Year 30 ABY

It had been one of the most exciting days of my life, and even then I couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was for different reasons than it would be years from then on Selen, but nonetheless. I had learned about my apprenticeship to a true warrior among the Jedi; Qira Katherion. The woman was a blur on battlefields in previous wars, having held her own against at least a dozen Vong at once, the two blades of her lightsaber leaving elegant purple streams as she cut a path through her foes. She was one of the few Jedi outside of the Council who had her own ship, a gorgeous YT-2000 freighter. At the time, I couldn’t wait until I saw Sarna to tell her all about it, since Katherion was also responsible for bringing in a number of the artifacts that littered the archives. The strange part was that I didn’t see Sarna at all throughout the day. Before then, she would never fail to track me down wherever I was in the temple. I had only been there a few weeks by that time, but it was seeming more and more like home as long as she was there. It troubled me, but for the most part the excitement kept me awake. I stepped out over the open window into the crook of the nearby branches to hear the noise of the forest at night. The night air was cool and crisp, and the nocturnal creatures seemed to keep their noise to a dull roar. I looked over the valley, hearing the rush of distant water. The wind blew very gently, and the entire forest was awash in the glow of Ossus’s pair of moons. I found it so hard to believe that only centuries ago, this place was a smoking, toxic ruin. Forest worlds were preferred by the Jedi for a reason.
The serene focus was broken by a familiar presence. I felt Sarna at the entrance of the room, and peeked up over the window. The moonlight gently fell upon her flowing figure as she passed through the doorway, no doubt confused as to why I wasn’t in there asleep, as opposed to the completely logical practice of setting myself precarious position on a tree a couple dozen meters off the ground.

“Out here.” I called to her, when she started to frown and give up on finding me.

“By the Force, how irrelevant to you is your own safety?” she asked, as she placed her arms on the windowsill and looked down at me. She was down to the lower layers of her robes, likely with the intention of sleeping but had other things to do. The wraps held tight against her body, the curve of her waist no longer concealed by flowing robes, her breasts somewhat more relaxed behind the underclothing. She had let her hair down, though the braids were undone, and a few stray strands drifted over her eyes. Even relaxed and unkempt, she remained as beautiful as ever. Still, no woman’s attractiveness ever slowed down my attempts at wit.

“And ruin all the good furniture by putting it to use? Perish the thought.” I replied. She briefly smiled at the joke, but it faded just as quickly. She wasn’t here to play; something was on her mind. I stood up straight, leaning against the hard kingwood branches. That lovely green-blue gaze looked straight into my own for a few moments, before I broke the silence.

“You know, I was apprenticed today.”

“Yes, I heard. Master Katherion is very respected. I’ve handled many of the artifacts she’s brought in.”

“Who told you that? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t shouting it through the halls, was I?” I was confused. I was sure I didn’t do that. Pretty sure.

“You were thinking it pretty loudly all day.” she replied. I was taken aback; she’d never told me the extent of her knowledge of my thoughts. I could never totally read her, though that might have just been on account of her gender.

“You don’t seem happy to hear it.”

“Of course I am. You’re going to have everything you’ve been waiting for, what you’ve been dreaming of for years! Why wouldn’t I be happy?” she answered, though happiness wasn’t what I was sensing from her. I felt her fear, sadness, and many feelings converging... She stepped back from the window. I followed her.

“You may be able to tell what I’m thinking all around the temple, but I can tell when you’re lying.” I challenged her as she walked back towards the door. She stopped, sighed, and turned back to me slowly.
“Listen to us. We know every facet of each other. Not having you here would be like losing a limb.” she replied. That was something, but not a fully coaxed confession.

“Same here, but I’ll be back. Besides, do you really think you’ll stay here forever? What about when they rebuild Coruscant’s temple?” I attempted to reassure her. That wasn’t what she wanted me to say, though.

“Adam, you still aren’t listening to me. The last time we were apart, it was for only a week, and I’ve never felt as low as I did when you weren’t there.” she said emphatically.

“Sarna, I don’t-”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Adam. Try as we might, neither of us can deny everything we share. We practically live in each other’s heads! You look at me differently, I can feel it.”

“Sarna, I know. You’re right. Do you really think that what you mean is something for us, though? We aren’t just ‘people’, Sarna.” I didn’t understand the words that were coming out of my mouth. She was right, with every word she spoke about what I felt for her. I was surprised, afraid, but so was she. She took my hands into hers.

“Just trust me, once. Just this once. I don’t want to see you go, not without us trying.” she implored. The beginning of tears formed in the edges of her eyes.

“I’ll be back.”

“I won’t leave this unresolved. We can’t carry this for years, we’d just resent each other for it.” She squeezed my hands more tightly, then cast her eyes down. Several moments of silence passed. I made my choice.

I bent my head down to meet her eyes, and smiled knowingly. Her eyes lit up, and she pressed her lips to mine. Both of us were awash in a sudden sea of sensation, physical and mental. I ran my fingers through her hair, soft along my hands. We pulled back to meet each other’s eyes again. I could hear and feel her soft breath. We kissed again, longer this time. We loved the sensation, the thrill of it. It was a perfect culmination; I think we both knew that it was coming at some point, we just weren’t willing to listen to ourselves long enough to let it happen. After that moment, it was like we had first met again. We talked for several hours more throughout the night. Finally, both of us fell asleep on the carpet.

I woke up before her. I wanted so badly to wake her up to say goodbye, and I should have, but for some reason I didn’t. I got dressed, leaving her in the floor. I walked straight to the hangar and didn’t look back. Maybe I was trying to spare her pain, at least that was what I told myself. But either way, that was a mistake. One that I won’t forgive myself for until I find her again.

Nath sat on the edge of the examination bed, her legs pulled up and crossed beneath her as she waited for Atty to return. She wasn't left waiting for very long; her sister was always swift when it came to compiling the data from the examinations.

The Iridonian sensed her long before the sound of the door hissing open reached her ears. Slowly, her eyes peeled open, the minuscule motion feeling like sandpaper being rubbed against them; she hardly noticed any more, the sensation so commonplace with her lack of sleep. Idly, her gaze drifted to her sister, who took up residence in the seat directly before her.

"Sister." Atyiru greeted her with a small smile; but it was hollowed, and Nath saw the concern laced beneath it as clear as day.

"You have concerns."

"...yes." The confirmation wasn't really needed; it was a nicety that the pair shared at every medical screening. It was like a dance, and both knew the steps.

"Enlighten me." Atyiru snorted in response to that before letting a weary breath pass her lips.

"The same as always: you're underweight, with a lack of sleep, lack of nourishing food...need I go on?" The Miraluka elicited a scoff from the Iridonian before she verbally responded.

"No, I am all too aware, sister."

"Then you will seek treatment under my care."

"No." Another exasperated sigh came from Atty. She was all too aware of Nath's stubborn nature and dislike of medical facilities.

"I could treat you in your quarters. You don't have to stay here." The imploring tone was new, but only made the Iridonian clam up further.

"I am aware of the risks, and I am not consenting to anything." Her tone hardened as her resolve did.

"You're killing yourself slowly but surely. Eventually, you will not be able to maintain this. I know what happened on Iridonia, and I swear to you it won't happen here. I won't let that happen."

"You know... I would take Emil's beatings three times a day everyday to erase that moment of my life."

"You'd be worse off." The Miraluka interjected pointedly.

"I'd at least be whole." Nath shot back without malice.

"Barely. I've seen the marks he left on you; I doubt he would stop at scars. Eventually, even that would lose their appeal and he'd escalate again."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Are you that deluded?" Atty's growing concern buzzed in the back of Nath's mind. It drove her almost to distraction, giving the blind female an opening to continue. "If that is what you want then there are still options: surrogacy or lab grown are available. We could transplant, but the likelihood of it being viable... It's not good, more so with your current lifestyle choices."

"...I wouldn't love it." There was a sudden vulnerability to the younger woman's voice which caught Atyiru off-guard. There was a moment of silence between them, and Nath's tired eyes looked away with shame of her true feelings.

"You don't know that." The gentle words were meant to reassure, but they didn't. Nath knew what lay in her heart, and what laid in her own mother's, to an extent: maternal instincts were not high in either women who inhabited the Iridonian’s body.

After another long moment of silence which Nath refused to fill, the Iridonian female spoke once more. She didn't know why she was explaining, but the strange need to talk for a change took hold.

"You know the surgery I had...my hysterectomy was just the beginning. They kept the wounds open to scour and flush away the bacteria, but I had no insurance to pay for anything, so painkillers were only the weak, cheap ones that didn't cover the pain." As Nath's black eyes drifted back to Atyiru she didn't really feel anything but numbness. Atty shifted in her seat. She was attentive, listening carefully, but before she could respond Nath continued to speak.

"It isn't even that moment in my life I wish I could take back; I know how it got inside me. Youth makes us stupid, and when I was a child there were times I needed to be alone, unobserved, and for that there was only one place to go. I knew I shouldn't have, but I went anyway. When I tripped and fell, I was gifted a puncture wound. It was tiny, and I didn't even notice it until I was riddled with the infection."

The blip from Nath's datapad drew her attention away from her thoughts. Her fingers quickly brought up the message and Atty knew that their conversation was over. It had begun to occur with increasing frequency of late.

"Sister, there are options open to you, so please consider them. Don't discard it without thought." Nath slid off the examination table, her boots clicked on the flooring and her hand rested on her older sister's shoulder, giving her a small squeeze of reassurance before responding.

"...maybe one day. I will see you in three months, sister." Atty's arm coiled around Nath's emaciated waist.

"You can contact me any time." Reluctantly, the Iridonian returned the embrace.

"I will when I can. Stay safe." As quickly as the affection came, it was gone, and Nath's veneer of callousness fell back into place with practiced ease as she slipped out of med-bay.

Atyiru Caesus Entar, Galeres, #13486

Ernordeth Puer-Irae strolled through Level Beta of the Phantom Complex from the Briefing room towards the Quaestor's Office. He felt ragged and worn down. He was looking forward to his meditation in his Suite, hopefully allowing him to collect his thoughts for his meeting with Kanis regarding Shadow Phyle and the final push to quell the insurgency before the return of the Shadow Lord and the rest of Arcona. He was beginning to feel like he was failing Qel-Droma. His other duties for the Combat Master, Grand Master, Headmaster, Fist, and his own personal studies had been weighing him down recently. He loved these jobs though and wanted to prove himself. He couldn't fail as others had before him. He hoped to become an Arconae, a select elite who had shown nothing, but the utmost devotion to the Shadow Clan. He would persevere. He would work hard to restore his House to be the larger House of Arcona as it had been months before. As he knelt down to begin meditating memories begin rush towards the center of his thoughts.

They started as an empty black void suddenly flooded with a white light that could only be described as heavenly filled his mind. Slowly colors began to appear, coming into focus as the memories were relived...

Ernordeth awoke in a cold, dimly lit ship floating beyond the Outer Rim. It took what seemed like days for the yellow eyes to adjust to more than just unconscious closed eyelids. As the world swirled into a clear picture the Sith child begin seeing the only images he could remember seeing aside from the faces in his mind, now faded with time. At first glance the ship seemed empty as if it had always been void of sentient life. Ernordeth worked his way through the inner workings of the fury class starship. Eventually he came across small tatters of a brown robe and black cloak a few meters from the boarding door. Hidden underneath was a datapad containing only one message, missing letters from the millennia of wear and tear. “Son of the Wr th, Y u will be a gr t Sith w rr or when ou gro up. Fol ow in y fo tst ps and ch k the cargo ho d. Do not we p fo us.”

His body, untouched by the passage of millennia in carbonite remained as a 12 year old, however his unconscious mind continued to turn, clawing for knowledge in the void, yet continuing to grow. This led to his ability to comprehend more than the average 12 year old; his mental faculties operates as an adult in his 20s. Following the instructions found on the datapad Ernordeth had discovered items of great use in the cargo hold. The treasures included enough credits to last live slightly beyond moderately for the next 30 years, weapons, armor buried underneath robes, and datapads containing the history of his progenitors. The last two items caught his attention. One was a single bladed lightsaber, light red in hue with a short, light hilt. The other called to him, hatred and a burning desire echoed throughout the room, penetrating Ernordeth as he picked up the heavy, dark alloy of an intricately carved saberstaff. Two deep, bloodstained blades erupted from each end with a hum that resembled the growl of a demon and Ernordeth’s pulse began to rise as the gyroscopic vibrations forced him to tighten his grip to avoid it slipping to the floor and a sinister smile spread itself upon his face. With this weapon in his hand he felt like a God with seraphic power. Staring out from the pilot's chair of the Final Way it was obvious no matter what time you’re from the universe is cold, dark, and quiet. All that interrupts the blanket of darkness are the twinkling lights of the stars, but an irrational urge to crush these lights began to ripple through Ernordeth’s blood. Darkness is all he’s known; darkness is his only friend; darkness is what he must become. His thoughts naturally focused on the last few hours. Research was going to be required; he felt a need to read everything he could find in the ship to discover who he was, but first he needed to replenish and nourish his body. With a glance at the holomap, Ernordeth selected his first destination. Stars begin to streak by as the ship's navigations took over. Then space became black as the memory abruptly came to a halt.

If only he could change his past. If he would have gone to fight with his parents, instead of allowing them to freeze him he could have saved their lives...maybe he would still have a family. He stood up and looked over his awards from the Brotherhood he had earned. He was now a Sith Warrior. He was Quaestor of Qel-Droma. Though he wishes he knew his parents better and imagines what life would have been he wouldn't trade it. He was an Arconan and they were all the family he needed.