47

Saedii slept.

There were no dreams in this sleep. Nothing but a velvety blackness that held her in a soft embrace. Here, she had no sense of self. No thoughts or fears or visions of blood and gore. Just darkness.

It felt like an eternity passed. Time held no meaning for her here, and there was nothing strong enough to coax her out of the gentle dark. She could exist here forever with no fears or worries.

But it didn't last forever.

All too soon, Saedii felt as the darkness ebbed. As she slowly settled back into the heavy and cumbersome feel of her body, curled tightly beneath a thick blanket. After being suspended in the dark, her body felt like a burden. A weight that sucked at her and threatened to pull her down.

Her eyes fluttered open. Darkness met her, but it was not the same as the one she'd left. This was not absolute. A faint glow outlined a door to her right, and when she blinked, the dim outline of her bunk room slowly emerged in the shadows.

Someone was sitting on the floor beside her bed. White hair seemed to glow in the dim light.

"Cross?"

He turned. His dark face observed her briefly before a low light flooded to life in his hands.

Even though it wasn't bright, she squinted against it.

"Are you awake?" he asked.

"Yes." Her throat felt dry as she swallowed. She sat up.

"Slowly," Crosshair warned, getting to his feet. But he needn't have bothered. Saedii felt perfectly alert as she sat, no dizziness or nausea rushing to grip her.

Immediately, her hand went to her throat. Searching for the necklace.

"You're not dreaming," Crosshair said, and his voice sounded incredibly sad.

She let the rock drop from her fingers. "I just had to check."

Carefully, he took the seat next to her on the bed. He was patient as she blinked in the dim light, trying to gather her bearings.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked reluctantly. Her body felt strange. Not tired and worn as she was used to, but rejuvenated.

"Twenty-six hours, give or take."

She grimaced. Twenty-six hours was a long time.

"You needed it," Crosshair said, reading her expression. "I don't think you realized just how exhausted you really were. You haven't looked well, Saedii, ever since we pulled you off that stone table on Nur."

A part of her knew that, of course. She'd felt the bone-deep exhaustion every moment of every day since she'd been here, though she'd tried to pretend she hadn't. It didn't surprise her that the boys had seen right through it.

Faint memories of the fight yesterday played through her mind, but she stiffened as she remembered what had happened after. As she remembered the way Crosshair and Echo had taken care of her, like a child. Embarrassment clogged in her throat and she swallowed against it.

"Cross, I'm sorry –"

She broke off as he pulled her in for a hug.

His arms felt so sure and steady around her. His scent – rifle oil and cedar – filled her nose as she pressed her face into his chest, savoring the warmth. How she'd missed his hugs while on Nur.

"You don't need to apologize," he said, voice reverberating beneath her ear. "After everything you've been through, you're allowed to be vulnerable."

"Still," she murmured, "you guys had to take care of me –"

"We'll always take care of you."

Her body relaxed into his embrace. Cross wasn't one to usually offer up affection so easily, but somehow, she sensed that he needed this as much as she did.

His hand gently traced over the soft waves of her hair. "If anyone should apologize, it's me. For what I said before you were taken. For everything that's happened since you've been freed. I should have been there for you, but I wasn't."

"That's not true." She pulled back and looked at him. "You tried, the first day. You brought Wolffe and the others to see me."

His expression hardened. "That did more harm than good."

"No, it didn't. Believe me."

One of his arms still draped over her shoulder. It was a comforting feeling. A brotherly feeling.

Lightly, he patted the top of her shoulder. "How are you feeling? AZI stopped by a few hours ago and gave you some pain medication, but if they've worn off –"

"I feel fine."

Surprisingly, this wasn't a lie. For the first time in what felt like a year, she wasn't tired. Wasn't in pain or afraid. She felt almost normal.

A faint smile lifted his lips.

But it died as she suddenly asked, "How's Kalth?"

Crosshair observed her, perhaps trying to gauge how strong she really was. If she was really up for the truth.

Finally, he admitted, "He's awake."

"Awake? Do you mean –"

"He's lucid."

Something expanded in her chest. Some kind of hope or excitement that she hadn't felt in a while. An alien feeling, but not unwelcome.

"How do you know?"

"Hunter and Rex are with him. He's been awake for a few hours now." Crosshair paused, debating. "He's been asking for you."

"Can I go see him?" she asked at once.

Those sharp eyes of his ran over her, assessing for himself if she was really ready for this. Whatever he saw in her face made him sigh. "If you have to."

She did. Kalth had risked everything for her on Wayland – had nearly died for her chance at freedom. She owed it to him to see how he was doing. To help him in whatever small way she could.

Crosshair lifted a small white bundle off the ground and handed it to her. Fresh clothes. Not, she noted, her Jedi robes, but another set of the white pajamas.

For a moment, she debated putting them to the side. She had, after all, dueled with Kalth yesterday. She'd defended the base and protected him from himself. In that moment, she had felt like a Jedi once again.

But was that one moment enough for redemption?

One of Crosshair's eyebrows rose as she hesitated.

Solemnly, she accepted the clothes. No, it wasn't enough. If she truly did want to be a Jedi again, she would need to work through the demons in her head. To undo all of Krell's poisoned words that had taken root. It would take a long time, not just one single moment of begrudging acceptance.

Once she was dressed, Crosshair led her towards the cell.

Now that she wasn't so out of it, the base looked even worse than it had yesterday. She made a face at some of the scorch marks along the walls. At the deep gouges that had sliced straight through the rock, revealing the deeper tones beneath like layers of skin. They'd really done a number on it.

Finally, the final door appeared. Crosshair laid his hand along the panel and it slid open, revealing the short stretch of corridor before them. Faint blue light glowed from the single cell door, reflected off the damp stone walls.

Hunter and Rex were both there. Arms crossed and jaw taunt, Hunter turned in their direction and his expression softened when he spotted Saedii, alert and rested, at Crosshair's side.

"General." Rex snapped into a salute.

Saedii nodded in acknowledgement. "How is he?"

Rex exchanged a look with Hunter. "Overwhelmed. It's a lot to take in."

She knew that better than most.

"We'll stay close in case you need us," Hunter promised as the three Clones turned and slipped out the door at the end. When it shut behind them, the corridor was deathly quiet.

Her footsteps were faint as she stood before Kalth's cell. Cool air raised goosebumps along her arms, and she gave a little shiver as she came to stand in the same spot that Hunter had only days before, as he had pleaded with her to wake. Strange, how quickly roles could be reversed.

Kalth sat on the edge of his bed, face in his hands. The same white pajamas that Saedii wore adorned his body, though they didn't seem so big on him. Scarred hands covered his closed eyes, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that it had to be painful.

He knew she was there, but he said nothing. She waited.

"Did I hurt you?" he finally asked.

When he spoke, it was no longer the Inquisitor's voice. But it wasn't quite the voice of her old friend either. This was someone in-between – deep and tortured, a man burning from the inside. Some who'd been razed down to the ashes.

"No."

His eyes opened and zeroed in on the stitches at her hairline. "You don't have to lie –"

"I'm not."

Something rippled across his face. Agony. "I almost killed you."

"But you didn't," she reminded him. Her hand grazed the door. "I'm alive. And I'm here."

He shook his head. "I thought I was back in Krell's dungeons. It seemed too good to be true – both of us safe and alive, away from the Inquisitors. It didn't seem possible. Even now, it almost seems too perfect."

"Trust me, it's not perfect."

If it was perfect, neither of them would bear any scars. Neither of them would be wan and worn, haunted by ghosts. It was the furthest thing from perfect.

She gave a half smile. "But I promise it is real."

Kalth finally dropped his hands from his face, pushing to his feet. When he walked over to the glowing door that separated them, for the first time, Saedii realized just how much he'd grown in the past few years. He wasn't just taller than her. He towered over her, by at least a foot.

Purple bruises dusted his pale cheeks and jaw from where she'd landed blows. Her eyes traced them and she couldn't stop the rush of guilt in her stomach.

"Kalth, I'm sor–"

"Don't apologize," he said severely. "Not you. Not after you saved me."

"I didn't save you. I nearly got you killed back on Wayland," she argued.

"If it wasn't for you, Saedii, I'd still be wearing black."

Her eyes went over him, taking in his posture. The set of his shoulders. It seemed different than it had at the fortress. Different even than Wayland. There wasn't as much tension there. He stood like he'd shed an invisible weight from his shoulders.

"I didn't have the strength to leave on my own," he admitted. "If it hadn't been for you, then I never would have left."

She swallowed. "We saved each other, then."

Just as she'd observed him, he was now looking at her as if truly seeing her for the first time. His sharp eyes ran along the lines of her cheeks, the dusting of raethirii marks along the bridge of her nose, the metal hand that nervously played with the rock at her throat. In that one single look, it felt like he'd read her story and understood all that she'd been through since the fall of the Order.

"Can I come in?" Saedii asked, trying to lighten the mood. She wanted to sit with him, to hold his hand and know for sure that he was real and alive.

His eyes were cautious. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me, Kalth. You're my best friend."

Something dark crossed his face. "I'm not that person anymore. I don't think there's anything left of the boy you knew. Krell destroyed him."

It was eerily similar to what she had told Hunter only a few days ago. That there was nothing left of her. And suddenly, she realized what Hunter had meant when he'd promised she was still there.

Even as she looked at Kalth before her, so different than the boy of her memories, he was no stranger to her. True, he'd changed a lot – both physically and mentally. But when she looked at him, she still felt that same sense of peace she'd always found when they were kids.

She looked at him and felt like she was home.

"Without the Jedi, without Krell and his –" He cut off and scowled. "I...don't know who I am anymore, but I know I'm not who you want me to be."

"Whoever you are now is good enough for me."

Then, before he could protest again, she hit the control for the door.

The hall dimmed without the added glow from the door. Kalth tensed when the barrier was no longer between them, as if he didn't trust himself. His eyes were wary as he watched her step over the threshold into his cell.

For a moment, Saedii didn't move. She catalogued all the differences in her friend – all the many ways that he had changed since Order 66. And once that was done, she took a moment to search for things that hadn't changed.

His face, while older and more mature, was still the same. Still handsome. While closed off at the moment, she knew that his full lips would still form the biggest smile, if he could find a reason to be happy. His hands, too, while scarred and clenched, were the same that had braided her hair as a child. The rich dark hair was tousled – not quite as long and wild as it had been, but nothing even close to tidy.

And then there were his eyes.

Cold and wary, those eyes were the same from her childhood. The same ones she'd met across the room of the training grounds as they'd gone through forms. The same ones that had sought hers for every triumph. The same icy blue that had never failed to look at her like she was the most important person in the galaxy.

The two of them had both changed. They both lived through unspeakable horrors. Witnessed tragedies. Taken lives.

And yet, there wasn't a single person Saedii would rather have as her friend.

Her eyes watered as she leaned forward and hugged him. As she inhaled his warm new scent, like amber, and felt the muscles in his back tense.

Not the boy she'd grown up with. And yet she loved him all the same.

"I missed you," she admitted, turning her face into his chest. It felt strange. The last time they'd hugged, her face had nestled in the crook of his neck.

Kalth's arms hovered awkwardly out at his sides. Then, with exaggerated slowness, they wrapped around her.

He sighed against the top of her head, warm breath saturating her hair.

Softly, under his breath, he confessed, "I missed you, too."

And Saedii was sure that she felt another lost piece of herself slide back into place.