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ailani-reillata · 2 months

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The Acolyte - Chapter Twenty-Two: The Dar’jetii

Oc Centric - Multichapter - 9.7k - Rated T

Summary: The Separatist Crisis has reached its peak. War looms throughout the galaxy, casting a dark, bloody shadow over the thinning ranks of the Jedi Order. The end of civilization has already started. This is the story of Jedi Acolyte Ailani Réillata. Her end has just begun.

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One

AO3 Version

(Please see the AO3 version for the full list of tags and warnings BEFORE reading.)

———

"Trust is the greatest of gifts, but it must be earned."

Coruscant felt like dull and empty background noise, rattling around in Ailani's desolate mind.

The hangar buzzed with conversation and orders, mechanical voices overlapping with the sound of scraping parts and whistling engines. The Grand Army was alive and busy, all shuffling boots and shiny new armor. The universe kept spinning. Things keep going. New ships landed. New clones unloaded the contents. New droids scurried across the floors.

Everyone moved on. Everyone kept going.

Ailani felt as if she had been glued permanently in place. Her mind and heart were stuck somewhere in the past, and her body was trapped in the future. She should have been happy to be back, grateful for the distraction of the planet, thankful for the familiarity of the Temple.

But she felt so empty.

Her sanity had gone off some cliff on Naboo; her mind tossed about on a waterfall with no bottom. Endlessly falling. Never strong enough to rise above the waves. Drowning forever—drowning for always. The weight of war had nestled itself firmly on Ailani's shoulders, over two years of conflict and blood seeping into her chest and making home in her heart. She was so tired.

Behind her eyelids, Ailani kept seeing the flames of R3-K9 melting into useless rubble. Over and over, the orange flames consumed the droid. Over and over. He was silent. He melted. He kept melting. She kept reaching. Her hands were still wrapped, covered in red bandages and soothing gel. The ache of the burns had been unbearable at night, and combined with the memories of melting, sleep had been impossible. How long had she been awake now? How long had she been drifting through reality? How long could she keep this up?

Ailani only vaguely looked like a Jedi now, her outer robe removed and only the wrinkled undershirt and baggy pants serving as a reminder of her position. But even those fragments had been hidden under a large woven cape and the heavy backpack that adorned her shoulders. She just looked like Ailani. Nothing more, nothing less.

She was so tired.

Yesterday felt like a million years ago, endless lifetimes and moments beyond her. Naboo could not have been yesterday. It must have been yesterday. Yesterday was forever. It would never stop being yesterday. The past few months had been endless. Endless forever. Ailani wondered if perhaps she had left her entire heart in her parent's living room, and now she was a mere shell walking the galaxy. Nothing had felt real since she sat on that living room floor.

She was so tired.

Before, when things had gotten turbulent, Ailani had always fallen back on her childhood mantra. When she had nightmares when she felt alone, and when she had kissed Wolffe. When she had denied her Order and given in, she had always leaned on the memory of orange blossoms and fresh lavender. She didn't even have that anymore. The very thought of the smell was enough to make her sick.

She was so tired.

In her exhaustion and haunted by the memories of fire, Ailani felt her legs carry her from the hangar. She walked without purpose or direction, letting her blank mind wander to places unknown as her body drifted through the land of the living. She didn't even bother changing or cleaning her face of ash and blood. She walked endless blocks with her backpack and shaking hands. She had a few separate outfits in her pack, but she didn't have the energy even to unzip the cloth, much less change. What was she supposed to do now? Years of fight and bitterness had turned to stone in her heart, making reality and rest seem impossible. Nothing felt real. How could any of this be real? This war, this emptiness? All this death and desolation. How could it be real?

She wandered the night as she thought this over, questions and questions piling up in her mind that only boiled down to: Why? Why? Why?

After a long while, she stopped, her legs frozen before a place she had not seen in so many months.

The 104th barracks.

Ailani wanted to curse her treacherous mind and trembling legs for leading her back here, but she could not even find the energy to hate herself. She just wanted to rest. She needed to rest. She needed Wolffe back. He would know what to do. And even if he didn't, Ailani found that she liked his lies just as well as any reality.

Fearing any questions from the barrack guard, Ailani slipped around the side, following the metal fencing that engulfed the compound. Allegedly, the lines of wire and metal were for the safety of the GAR, keeping out turbulent civilians and protecting the machinery. However, in the dark light and with soot still on her burnt hands, Ailani thought the fence made the barracks look like a prison.

It must have been hours past lights out, but a dim glow came from the 104th yard, and the wind carried the soft sound of voices.

Wolffe and Sinker.

Ailani felt her chest shake at the possible glimpse of familiarity or the shadow of friendship. She needed that closeness and that knowing. She needed.

The pair stood outside, leaning against the wall for support and speaking in hushed tones. They looked serious yet at ease. For a moment, Ailani found herself unable to move or even breathe, and she simply stared. What was she doing here? She had yelled at Wolffe and screamed and… He had looked so mad. And he had blamed her for what happened with Ahsoka and…

This wasn't fair. This wasn't right of her. She felt childish and desperate, clinging to the warmth of her only remaining memories. Kisses under glowing lights and a shoulder to sleep on. But she had no one to talk to. Not a single soul in the whole universe. She was so alone, and she needed him, even if a sickening voice in her head said he didn't need her in return.

If he turned her away, she would just… She didn't know what she would do then.

"Wolffe," Ailani whispered, leaning into the fence and praying his ears could hear "Wolffe."

Instantly, the conversation halted, and Wolffe shifted. His shoulders straightened, and his head tilted slightly to the left. Alert and waiting. He must have been several yards away, and her voice was so small in the night, but he had heard her.

Always.

Ailani could feel her heartbeat in her ears now, tension and pain welling in her chest. Her hands felt slick with sweat and anticipation. Please look at me, she prayed silently, her eyes glued to his form in the night. Please see me.

After another moment of silent observation, Wolffe shifted his gaze and stared directly at Ailani. The single look was enough to make her breath catch in her throat, and the entire galaxy melted away until it was just his eyes on hers. She had spent so many nights dreaming of him and so many days forcing herself to forget. It seemed so distant now, and nothing was real except for the two of them. Her feet were frozen to the ground, but Ailani's heart had already leaped the fence to meet him. Would he kiss her again if she asked? Would he hold her again if she said she was sorry and begged for forgiveness? She needed his warmth as if it were air, and for so long now, she had been suffocating. How had she even lived all these weeks without him? How had she been satisfied to dream of kisses when she could have come down here and asked for them? Why had she even been so mad before?

Everything was melting away, leaving Ailani starving and desperate.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Wolffe approached her, stalking softly to the barrier with Sinker trailing a few steps behind. Her fingers clung to the fence, the cool metal digging into her skin as she leaned upon it for support, pressing her forehead against the barrier, wishing she would mimic her movements and read her mind. But he didn't. Wolffe stayed an arm's length away, staring at her. Silent.

Something like panic began to fill Ailani's chest, but she swallowed it, "Can you come out, please?" Her voice came out in a cracked whisper, so pathetic and small. It was unfair to be here, unfair to beg at his doorstep and weep like she was some lost dog.

She had been nothing but awful to him. But he came back. Wolffe went to the fence. He stood before her now. He always came back. That was part of the reason she came back, too. What had Wolffe said? Other people forgot and moved on, but not them. They stayed the same. They understood.

Wolffe looked at her, eyes tracing lines across her face and drinking in her expression. That horrible, needing hunger was back in her stomach, burning through skin and bone. Could he see that, too?

"Alright," Wolffe said. Shock flooded Ailani and was immediately soothed with wonderful relief. It took everything inside her to restrain herself from leaping. Wolffe turned back to face Sinker, "You wanna cover for me?"

"Sure," Sinker replied, but his tone sounded anything but certain. He was flat and lifeless.

Ailani didn't care. She couldn't think of anything besides Wolffe.

In one swift movement, Wolffe hoisted himself onto the fence, his shoes digging into the metallic rings for support, and then he swiftly pulled himself up and over, jumping to land right at her side.

"Hi." The greeting was breathless, almost embarrassingly so. She had imagined seeing him in person. She had dreamed of being close enough to know every sunspot on his face. And now, here he was exactly as she remembered, exactly as she needed.

"Hi," Wolffe said back, and then he was right back to it, endless brown eyes scanning her face, searching and seeing through.

It felt good to be known.

Would it be wrong to kiss him now? Should she wait until Sinker was gone or until the ice melted completely between them? Should they get a drink or something or…

"I didn't eat dinner," Ailani said suddenly. She had wanted to say it casually, lead into sharing a meal and maybe a conversation, but the words left her throat slightly choked and desperate.

He didn't falter. He never faltered, "I don't have any money."

A joke.

She could have cried. She wanted to cry. Ailani felt a weight lift off her chest at the ease of his responses. He seemed casual as if no time had passed between their meetings. As if she hadn't screamed and yelled and as if he hadn't screamed and yelled back. She wanted to laugh and hug him and ask him if he still liked her, if he still wanted to kiss and hold her, and if he would please hold her close and let her hold onto his warmth.

Some strangled sound that might have been a laugh escaped her, and some of the tension in her shoulders melted into a strained smile, "What sort of date are you?"

Please, please, please.

"A bad one, apparently," Wolffe said, smiling again. As if no time has passed. As if nothing had changed between them. Joking with hints of closeness. Warmth that made her cheeks burn.

Her hands were shaking when she replied, "Just this once. You're buying next time."

"I'm not the one who skipped dinner," Wolffe said, and Ailani let herself laugh completely.

Dinner found them in a terribly small and dark dive bar. Though neither of them admitted it, Ailani knew that the dingy place would be free of patrons with lingering eyes. No one would say anything or care if she drifted too close or if they shared a drink or two or three. And she needed that desperately.

It didn't matter if the food wasn't great or if it sat in her stomach heavily. It didn't matter that the bread clung to the roof of her mouth, sticky and oddly sweet. None of it mattered because after all of these months, Wolffe was speaking to her again, and he was smiling at her in the dim light, and it was everything she needed. The alcohol helped, too. It fought off the emptiness in her gut and eased her nerves. And it made the food taste better.

"What happened to your face?" Wolffe said, forcing Ailani to look up from her drink and meet his eyes.

Not a single being had asked her that yet. Not a single soul. Of course, he was the one who asked first. He always noticed her.

"I met my Father." Ailani said. It wasn't a complete explanation, but it was all she could force forward. She didn't want to talk about that. She wanted to talk about him and her and them. She didn't want to think of anything else besides this moment. She wouldn't be able to handle anything else. She wanted to rest.

Wolffe didn't press, "Oh."

A small part of Ailani suddenly wished she could lean across the table and kiss him, but the timing felt wrong and desperate. It felt so nice to have someone ask about her; he was so close. The warmth of his company had always been like gravity, and she was more adrift than ever. She needed the pull. She didn't move.

How strange the two of them must have looked. She was hardly a Jedi anymore, and he appeared to be the model soldier he had always been. But appearances often lied.

They talked for a while longer about nothing and everything, catching each other up on pointless aspects of their mundane lives and refusing to speak on any bloodshed or battles. Instead, they talked about how bad the instant meals were getting and how Comet tried to throw Ahsoka a birthday party a few weeks back.

"That makes me feel old," Ailani interjected, making a face.

Birthdays always made her feel strange. Ailani knew she had one—everyone had a birthday, but she had never celebrated the occasion, nor did she want to. She had made an effort never to remember the exact date. She merely counted her years by the first date of every year—it was as good a day as any and easy to remember.

Wolffe laughed, picking at the food remnants between them, "What does that make me?"

Ailani stared at him, studying his face. He looked older than the last time they met, but not jarringly. She hadn't really considered it. "Well, that depends. How old are you supposed to be now?"

Wolffe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He debated momentarily, "Twenty-six in standard years, I think. What's that? Twelve? Thirteen?"

The answer made her stomach feel strange. When they had met, he had only lived for ten years, yet with the advanced aging process all clones were born from. He had lived the equivalent of twenty human years.

Human. That word felt strange, separated from Wolffe. Sometimes, Ailani forgot he wasn't human. Ailani could not remember a single moment where she thought of him as anything but human. She wasn't ignorant of his upbringing. Of course, she was faced with the reality of his modified genetics every day, yet… He had always been so human to her.

Many beings in the Jedi Temple had aging processes different from hers. Wookiees became adults after twelve human years, so even though the Jedi Gungi was only four standard years old, he was already being allowed to construct his lightsaber this fall. Master Yoda was nine hundred years old but felt more like a grandfather than a relic. But usually, those with adapted lifespans did not look so…so human. It suddenly felt jarring to remember that he was not.

How long did humans live? Eighty years? Did that mean he only had forty standard years until he died?

"That means you're older than me now," Ailani said, trying to fake lightness in her tone.

If Wolffe sensed her tension, it didn't show on his face, nor in his words, "I've always been older than you, Ailani."

It might have been a joke, but neither of them laughed. They lapsed back into silence, and Ailani twirled her straw mindlessly. The ice in her drink clinked together like wind chimes, and something about the mundanity of it all made her heart pull.

The empty feeling was back. That horrible black hole in her stomach that she had diluted with alcohol and terrible food and the warmth of Wolffe's smile. Why was everyone getting older? Why was everything changing? And why did she feel the same? Why did she remain unmoved? Why was she still trapped in her parent's living room?

Ailani felt herself wilt, her body pulling in and sinking. The food was much worse than before, and she suddenly felt the desire to vomit it all back up, praying that the insecurity and pain left her body with bile. Panic was rising in her chest.

"Can we go outside?" Ailani asked, suddenly worried about vomiting her truth and stomach all over the dirty floor, "I think I need some fresh air."

Wolffe nodded, unconvinced.

Haphazardly, Ailani threw some credits on the table and rushed from the smell of alcohol and smoke. The second she pushed through the doors, Ailani hunched over, resting her hands on her knees and breathing hard. Why did she have to be reminded of other things? Why couldn't she have one moment of peace with him? Wasn't she allowed to forget everything? She couldn't handle reality right now. She needed Wolffe and only him. Nothing else made sense. She didn't want to dwell on it. She couldn't.

The ground was wet with oil and rain, trash and paint flickering across the sidewalk. Her eyes lingered over Wolffe's shadow on the pavement next to her, tracing the shape of his being. Even the mere glimpse of him, even a mere echo, is enough to send her over the edge.

Wolffe was beside her, a hand on her shaking back, "What is it?"

The touch made her stand up suddenly and flee from him, her nerves alight and tingling. It should have been nice. It burned. It reminded her of the flames on her hands and a melting R3.

"I'm sinking," Ailani whispered, unsure of her own words. Sinking was all she felt. It's all she knew. Everything was sinking. Everything was lost below the waves of time.

"Let's get you up," Wolffe said simply, reaching for her, "Come on."

The mere touch made her break open, "Everything is a mess, Wolffe. Everything." Her voice was frantic, suddenly on edge, and fragile, "Nothing makes sense anymore, and I keep trying to do the right thing, but it's not working. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore." She gestured wildly, letting broken words fly in the neon lights of the dive bar.

Wolffe approached her slowly, that strange look on his face again—like he was defusing a bomb, "What happened on Naboo?"

No. No. She didn't want to think about Naboo. No. No. This was all wrong. Everything was all wrong. Ailani shook her head dismissively, "It's not just Naboo, it's everything. Everything is wrong. Everything."

How could she even put the past two months into words? How could she explain everything to him? They weren't supposed to be talking about this. She wanted to be near him. She just wanted to be near him. Couldn't he see that? Maker, she didn't want to be thinking about any of this. She needed everything to stop, and she needed it to be just them and no one else. Wolffe fixed everything. She just needed life to stop for a moment. And she needed help breathing. Was she heaving? Was that her?

"You can tell me," Wolffe said, still pressing and looking at her with such clinical understanding. He was getting closer, and the warmth of his breath and the smoke in the air were too much to fight.

"I'm being torn apart," Ailani said, her voice cracking with every trembling breath, "And I don't even know why. I don't know anything." Ailani couldn't get in a full breath, no matter how hard she heaved. The air always stopped above her heart, refusing to fill her tightening lungs, "I'm so scared. This war has ripped me open. I can't take it." The night grew cold, spawning goosebumps across Ailani's skin. She felt alone in the chill, desperately locked on the outside of life and the living. The words kept spilling, "What are we going to do? What if we're wrong?"

Wolffe’s breath caught, "What?"

His voice was terrible, awful, and tense, but Ailani couldn't fight the words that leaked from her heart. It was too late to stop and make sense of anything, "What are we even doing? Nothing changes, and things only get worse. What if all of this is meaningless? What if we're just as bad as the Separatists?" Her final words detonated a bomb.

The shock that rippled through Wolffe could be felt through the Force, and he backed away from her, leaving nothing but freezing regret against Ailani's cheek. "What?" He repeated, and the frozen horror in his tone made Ailani snap back to reality.

"No, it's stupid, I just—" Ailani fumbled on her words, feeling something strange grow in her throat as she stumbled towards him. "Forget it." She needed to be close again. She needed.

"You knew." Wolffe cut her off, taking one step back for her every step forward, "You knew about General Kenobi, didn't you?"

She felt caged and wide-eyed, frantic like a white rabbit stuck in a hunting trap, stained in its blood. Not again, she thought. Please, not again. Despite herself, Ailani nodded slowly, not trusting her voice.

Wolffe looked conflicted for a moment, then something dark crossed over his face before it quickly settled into resignation. "Did Ahsoka know?" He asked, "Was she just faking when…" Wolffe's voice trailed off, yet Ailani already knew what he meant.

The hollow look in her eyes. The strength. The stone-cold expression. The child turned warrior. "No." Ailani replied, "She didn't know. "

Wolffe sat with the words for a long while, his dark eyes unrecognizable and cold. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? What was anything anymore?

"You think the war is meaningless?" He asked, and the words came out like broken glass, "What does that make me?"

Ailani's eyes widened, and her heart quickened, "That's not what I meant…I mean… that's not what I mean." Wolffe set his jaw, enraged. As always, her words were not enough. Never smart enough, never convincing enough, and Ailani found herself falling short, stumbling through broken responses as Wolffe remained unmoved, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Wolffe, I'm so sorry. I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't." She sounded desperate, so pathetically desperate and defensive. "Wolffe, listen to me, please."

His face was impossible to read. Set into harsh lines and unmoved by her pleas. Was he about to laugh at her? Would he scold her for saying such ridiculous things? Or was he simply going to say nothing and leave her here in the cold? The very idea of his reaction was enough to set her on edge, and Ailani could feel her body tensing, preparing for words or actions that stung, bracing herself for an emotional slap that would leave her reeling for days and yet make her come back again, crying at his doorstep.

"Wolffe, please, I'm sorry." She was panicking now, the desperation ripping through her voice, "I just want this to be over. I need you. I trust you." The admittance of trust was almost unbearable to force forward, and the weight of it sunk in Ailani's stomach as she stared at him expectantly. His expression barely moved. He didn't care.

Anakin's words echoed around Ailani’s skull, promises of the truth and anger at the lies that had been spun. The whole truth. Who had the whole truth? Had she been lying with only fragments as her playing cards? Was her entire life only built on shards of the truth? What was she doing this for? What were any of them doing this for? Wolffe remained silent. It only made Ailani’s mind spin quicker beyond her control. Sinking silence engulfed them, and Ailani felt herself flail for oxygen.

"I need you to tell me it'll be alright. I need you. I'm sorry, I need you right now. I need you to tell me it's worth it," Ailani sounded weak, her words jumbled between desperate tears. She was trying to reach for him, arms outstretched and trembling, but Wolffe was shaking his head now, brushing off her words like water and backing away from her. It was too much to take, "Just forget everything I said and tell me this war is worth it. Tell me the lying and bloodshed is worth it, and I'll believe you. I love you."

The galaxy stopped as the confession spilled forth like blood from an open wound. Ailani hadn't meant to say that. She shouldn't have said that. She did. She said it anyway. It's all she had ever known. It was all she could manage. Lie to me, Ailani thought, lie to me. Say you love me too. Prove it. Lie to me. Prove it.

Wolffe stared at her. He didn't even flinch. For a moment, they stood in silence, horrible, tense silence. Then he shook his head softly, back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. No. No. No. He looked at her, eyes filled with something dark and too terrible to name. Disappointment. Disapproval. His words came out like bile, stinging and burning, "I'm not your boyfriend."

Ailani's chest reacted independently, pulling in a sharp breath of air. She was choking on her confession, choking on his reaction. She wanted to speak, but nothing came forth. Shame wasn't a strong enough word for how she felt. He always cut straight to the chase, straight to the bone. He saw right through her.

Wolffe was still shaking his head when her heartache melted into soundless, choking gasps. She couldn't take in enough air. He was denying, disbelieving, rejecting. The movement cut deeper than any lightsaber wound and split her down the middle, and his words hollowed out her stomach. "I think you need to go home, Ailani."

Home. The word sent her deeper into the downward spiral.

The look in his eyes hurt worse than any blaster bolt. Cold and indifferent. Clinical and empty. He wasn't analyzing her, not scanning her face for meaning or understanding. He wasn't searching for answers in her eyes or even caring to know more. He was indifferent. He didn't want to know more. He didn't care to know more. He didn't care, not about her, not about anything. None of her words could reach him. None of her cries could be understood. He didn't want meaning or a glimpse into her mind. He didn't want anything from her. He was done with her and her riddles, indifferent to the tears she felt rolling down her face. They were something much worse than strangers.

They were nothing.

Perhaps they had always been nothing. Did she even know the man before her? Did he know her? Did they have an identity outside of the roles they played? Had she missed something? Had she missed everything? Suddenly, Ailani didn’t know anything. Perhaps she had never known anything.

It would have been better if he had shot her in the chest. She would rather be dead than have to stare at him any longer. How many times had he saved her life? Was he also wishing he could take back every single one? Their time of haze had ended, all those months she had hidden like secrets, all those longing glances she had idolized. They were gone now, and he could see her for who she truly was: Selfish. Childish. Petty. Violent. Someone he did not want. Wolffe turned away without another word.

And Ailani Réillata was alone in the orange and pink neon lights.

Walking back to the Temple had taken hours.

Every few steps, Ailani's body had given up and given out, forcing her to the ground as she heaved and sobbed uncontrollably. Then she would swallow the feeling, standing again and taking three or four more steps before melting back to the pavement. She felt high-strung and ravenous, thinking nothing and yet everything.

On the sidewalks where she lay, beings stepped around her and stared, but Ailani could not bring herself to stop the horrible cries that escaped her throat. Who cared what anyone thought? None of it mattered anymore. Nothing mattered anymore besides the massive tear that ripped through her stomach and spilled her organs. Her chest burned as always in her dream, just as she had foreseen millions of nights before.

It felt like Wolffe had ripped out her heart.

And she deserved it. She deserved it. The agony and the ache. The uncontrollable sobs. Killer, liar, almost-lover. Deceiver.

Despite the sinking and drowning, Ailani kept getting back up, peeling her skin off the sidewalk again and again. The entire universe felt desolate, and yet Ailani could not let her body remain bleeding in the streets. She felt like a ghost piloting a long-dead body, like an echo of something better, a broken remnant of a better soul and a better inhabitant. If no one desired to know her, if no one needed her, if she had indeed added worthless things to a worthless war, what was she now? Even ghosts had people who missed them.

Who would miss her?

Even before she had lost all scraps of companionship, even before it had all gone to hell, Ailani couldn't bring herself to imagine people thinking of her when she wasn't around. She couldn't comprehend people concerned over her or caring if she was around or even alive. And yet, somehow, despite all that, it still hurt when people proved her right. It hurt so bad it burned. No one would miss her now because no one knew her now.

She had left Barriss in the cold. She had stained her friendship with Wolffe and covered them both in her blood and bile. She had abandoned Ahsoka, and she had killed R3. Her parents had rejected her. These people had been her gateway to the galaxy. They had opened other doors of almost friendships and slivers of sanity. And she had slammed the doors in their faces. No one would talk to her now. It would be her and the black hole forever.

There was a time, a time so long ago that Ailani could hardly remember it, a time when the Force had felt ever-present and almost pure. She had been so young then, so clouded by worries that followed her even now, so strained by home and heartache. She hadn't fully appreciated the insight of the Force back then. But she longed for it now. She had never thought anything made sense, but the uncertainty she had felt before was nothing compared to the feeling she possessed now.

"Ailani," reality blinked forth with the call of her name, and the Council room faded into view.

The light of dawn shone and reflected in her eyes, casting painful light streaks across her vision, and instinctually, Ailani reached up to shield her face. Everything hurt and ached. It took a moment for her mind and body to return from that illuminated place, her vicious blinks only making her more dizzy.

The faces of her mentors slowly emerged from the halo of light, and Ailani found that the meeting was nearly full. Of course, why wouldn't it be? After such a high-priority mission and a long deception, everyone had been placed back home for the reports and the wrap-up. And everyone was staring at her. It was impossible to know which member had called her name, for Ailani's mind refused to focus. She looked around, her chest tight.

"Are you ready to give your report?" Master Windu pressed. He must have been the one who spoke. He looked concerned but ever cool and calm.

Ailani looked down at her datapad but found the device wasn't even in her hands. Bandages still wrapped her arms; apparently, she had not even changed last night. Her backpack was by the door, her clothes still wrinkled. The ribbons on her wrists were covered in ash and soot.

“I’m…sorry…I’m not…certain…” The words were strangled and sounded like they belonged to someone else. Was she even awake right now? How would she know? What was the difference? Nothing felt real. Nothing was real.

"Is something wrong?" Master Depa Billaba said, leaning forward in her chair, "You look unwell."

She felt unwell. Her head still felt sick and dizzy, and her stomach turned in knots. The food from last night had not settled well, and neither had the memories of Wolffe's cold and indifferent face.

"My clothes," Ailani said distantly and dumbly, not even processing the words, "I never changed my clothes." None of it made sense, not even to her, but it was all Ailani could pull forth. She needed to change her clothes. That was all she knew for sure. She had no one to talk to and no one to trust. All she had were the ash-stained clothes on her unworthy and ugly-stained body.

Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice entered her head, but he wasn't speaking to her. Instead, his words addressed all the other Council members, "Perhaps we shall reschedule for another time if she is feeling unable."

Unable.

Is that still how they viewed her? After everything she had done? After every friendship she had ruined and every scrap of life she had burned for this Order, she was still unable. Still not right. Still unable. She had pulled herself off the street again and again, bleeding and burnt, and she had gotten back here. She had been able. Her and only her. No one had helped her. She was able.

The rage of the word made Ailani snap awake, the bubbling feeling of her blood rushing in her empty ears and born from her open heart. If she had nothing, at least she still had her rage.

"I am perfectly able." She sounded biting and unnatural. Almost venomous, "I am only here because I am perfectly able to do anything. I am only unwell because I have been nothing but able for you. For all of you." Ailani faltered backward slightly, tripping over her words and their weight. She shouldn’t have drunk so much at the bar. She shouldn’t have… But she did not fall. She was able. Always able. She was able. Able to endure anything. Able to move on. She was able.

For a moment, the faces of the Council all seemed taken back, but only for a moment. Then, most of them merely shook their heads, looking dejected.

"You are exhausted," Master Saesee Tiin said, "Let us reconvene—"

"No," Ailani spit out, the words tasting like bile. Was she going to vomit again? "No. You will face me now. I am perfectly able." She wasn't. She wasn't able. But she didn't have anything else. She was nothing if she wasn't able.

The Council room was quiet as her Masters all debated something. She felt scrutinized. She felt unworthy.

"We had thought your appointment to Acolyte would dissipate some of these feelings." Master Windu said, looking at her, disappointed, "It seems that hope was misplaced."

The words knocked the wind from Ailani's lungs and emptied her throat. Her jaw went slack. Her eyes grew wide. She felt like a ravaged animal being hunted, caught off guard, and set between the sights of a blaster, "What?" She couldn't process these words, couldn't sink them into her soul. None of this made sense. What was happening?

Master Yoda hummed, "If privileged you were, thoughts of struggle, no more would you have."

Struggle? Privileged? Had they melted down her entire identity to a struggle, and had they thought her agony as acolyte was a privilege? How many hours had she spent in this room? How much of her life had she bathed in this morning light as she agonized over documents and data? She had wasted her life in this sunlight room. She had wasted her entire life here.

And they didn't even notice.

"Privileged?" Ailani spat out the words, horrible and bitter, "Is that what you think of my position? I'm a fucking joke."

"Ailani…" Plo Koon stood, his arm outstretched in a silencing motion, but she ignored him. What did he know anyway? What did any of them know? This was long overdue.

"No one can relate to me, and I can relate to no one. No amount of accomplishment or honor can erase the fact that I stand alone." Her voice was rising, the black hole and the alcohol and the loneliness more powerful, aided by the broken shards of the girl she once was, "Nothing can erase the fact that you all isolated me from everyone else."

Silence again. Horrible, thick silence. Why was everyone so silent? Why could people only give her silence? It only made her rage bubble more. What had all the tears been for? What had all the blood been for?

"That was not us." Adi Gallia said, at last, her words pointed and sharper than any lightsaber.

Her fault. Always her fault. Always. Always. Stupid, broken toy soldier Ailani, who could not even get her parents to stay. Sad girl with sad eyes who people only kept around out of pity. Lonely girl who lived in the big lonely Temple.

Suddenly, Ailani was on her parents' floor again, sobbing and screaming. Begging for attention. Begging for meaning. No one ever cared. Everyone always talked at her. Ordered her around. Speak less, Ailani. Stand up straight, Ailani. Mask your expressions, Ailani. You give yourself away, Ailani. Calm down, Ailani. Be silent, Ailani. Deal with it, Ailani. Get over it, Ailani. Be a good little soldier.

"If you don't think I belong here," Ailani said, turning on Adi, "You can say it plainly." The words cut like glass, but no one in the room seemed affected, not even flinching. Ailani desperately wished someone would flinch. Anything. She wished anyone would do anything. Anything at all. Was she so worthless that even her rage had no impact?

The Master shook her head, "You know that is not what I meant."

Ailani was back in her argument with Wolffe then, and the memory of it snapped her final straw of self-restraint, "What do you mean then? What do any of you mean? What do any of you mean!" She was screaming now, the words leaving her throat like a shot, cracking against the walls like lightning.

Silence. Horrible, terrible, endless silence. They would let her spin her wheels until she spun them off. Fine. Might as well give it her best shot.

"You're all terrible. We are all terrible! We are killing people we cannot see. We are deciding the fate of millions with a swing of our saber. We run the military, and we own the men within it. We're condemning them to death, and every day, we pretend to be their friends. Their friends." In her mind, Ailani suddenly saw brown eyes buried below the snow, and it only filled the fire in her heart, "We are not politicians. We're not soldiers. We're supposed to be Jedi. But I don't think I even know what that word means anymore. What even is a Jedi without war? I am nothing without the battle. I am nothing if I am not your devoted soldier, your loyal spy. What does any of it mean?"

She was yelling so much her words must have been heard from other rooms, but Ailani didn't care. Who was there to listen anyway? Hadn't most of them died in senseless battle already? Who would listen to her now? The dead? What did she owe the dead? How many people have suffered due to her actions and lack of action? The war pulled at the galaxy, stretching the soul of reality so thin that one could see through the very fabric of truth until truth was so transparent that it began to look like lies. Everything looked like lies.

"I am spread so thin I'm being ripped to shreds. I lie, and I spy, and I fight, and I maim, and I kill, and I am devoted. I have done everything asked of me. Everything." Wolffe's face was back in her head, looking at her with empty eyes. One lie, too many. One doubt too many. "And I don't know if any of it was worth it because I have fallen further than the depths of hell, and I have lost myself trying to prove I am worthy, and none of you even care. "

Silence.

Her shouts had become choked with tears, breaking up words that should have been angry. She was so tired, so tired of proving everything. So tired of losing everything. Hot tears ran down her face, but she pressed forward. She pressed into the silence.

"The Republic is dying, we are killing it, and none of you even care." Ailani's voice cracked again, trembling like a breaking bridge, and Ailani found she could no longer hold back her tears as they burned fire trails down her cheeks. "None of you even care." The final words escaped her, yet were nothing more than a broken cry, echoing pathetically against the marble walls of the Council Room.

And instantly, Ailani felt small.

In the back of her mind, Ailani recalled the first time she was in this room, just after her ninth birthday. She had been lost and away from home, yet here in this room, she had tried to feel warm. She had tried to belong. Hadn't she?

How many nights, days, and hours had she tried to find warmth in this room? How many times had she tried to find answers? How many times had she failed? Yet now Ailani felt even smaller than she had at nine, even more lost. And even more lonely. She was surrounded by the Masters who had raised her, the Masters who had guided her, the Masters who had guided the entire Republic. Yet, Ailani felt as if she was all alone in the universe, floating among a loveless void, drifting through unknown space.

And perhaps she was.

For they said nothing in reply.

And at last, in the silence of morning and before the eyes of the High Council, Ailani Réillata let herself weep.

Ugly, violent sobs wracked her body, and Ailani couldn't mask the terror that highlighted every gasping breath. She pressed her hands against her face harshly, feeling her legs crumble as her chest melted into broken sobs for Mandalore, for Naboo, for her friends, for the lives lost, for the lives she had taken, and most of all, Ailani let herself weep for the child that she had been and the lone killer she was now.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't. I can't do this anymore. I am being pulled apart," Ailani said, the words bubbling forth like a waterfall and breaking apart like ice. She was rocking back and forth on the floor, her shaking arms wrapped so tightly around her trembling knees, "I want out."

I want out.

The words slipped from her lips, and her sobbing instantly ceased. The room was filled with nothing but shock. Had she said that? Had she really…. How long had she dreamed of saying those words? She had dreamed of getting out, dreamed of her parents, dreamed of something more. So why did everything feel so foreign and wrong now?

I want out.

She hadn't planned on saying that, and now, after the words had left her lips, Ailani wondered if she had ever wanted to say them. But she couldn't take it back and wasn't sure she had the strength to. She was still curled up into herself, arms wrapped around her body tightly in a pathetic replica of a hug she would not receive.

What was she going to do?

What had she just done?

"In haste, such a decision should not be made," Yoda said. Always pressing, always dismissing. Never listening.

Ailani curled tighter into herself, not knowing what to say. Had she always been like this? Curled in a fetal position on the floor, unable to form any meaningful words. How would she ever be anything more? She was so tired.

"We are all aware that this choice is not being made out of haste," Plo Koon answered, speaking for Ailani.

The truth of his words only made her feel worse. They knew she didn't belong. They all knew it. They were all aware that this road could lead nowhere else. This is where she was always going. This is where she was always destined to be.

She didn't belong here.

Ailani pressed her hands to her ears, trying to drown out reality. She kept crying.

The Council and Ailani sat in a heavy silence for a long while, unable to move. These people had raised her. They had built her entire life. They had taught her how to fight and how to fly. How to breathe and how to live. She had spent so long trying to fit in, trying to make the skin of a Jedi slide smoothly over her broken flesh and bones. None of it had been enough.

For either of them.

Time to grow up. The words returned to Ailani, drifting into the shaking parts of her mind. She had said that to her Father before they fought. She had said that before she failed. She had only said that through anger, but now the words appeared empty. Finality.

Time to grow up.

What did that even mean? Here, she stayed on the floor, unable to move and stand. She could never grow up. She had never been able to. She was trapped in this room, trapped in this moment. Trapped in battles, she could never win. Always lying on the floor, with blood leaking from her head.

Forever. For always.

She couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't stand any more forever. She was so sick of herself. So sick of being Ailani. She didn't want to be nine years old anymore, stuck in this room with her heart left at home. She didn't want to be here forever.

Time to grow up.

Mechanically, Ailani tried to process the words. She had first said them as a taunt, a dare. She had been testing her Father, testing herself. But none of that mattered anymore. She had failed that test. She hadn't been strong enough. He had beaten her, broken her down to the very bare of her bones. She was nothing now. Not even a Jedi. She was nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Time to grow up.

Growing up meant getting up first. Even if she didn't know what to do after that. Growing up meant getting up. Getting up like she had so many times before, peeling her body off the group in the same way she had peeled herself from the pavement over and over this morning.

She was nothing now. Not even a Jedi. Nothing didn't belong here. Nothing had to leave. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Ailani stood, prying her arms away from her legs, her chest shaking with unsteady breaths. She faltered a few times, the ground feeling uneven and brittle below her feet. But she did not fall.

Time to grow up.

She watched the faces of her Masters through bleary eyes—uncomprehending. They looked unknown to her, like strangers. Complete strangers. And Ailani was never going to see them again. The thought came with a sharp pain in her chest, an ache she hadn't expected. These Masters had raised her and given her every skill she had ever known. What had Ailani given them in return? She had wasted their time, and she had wasted their lives.

Everything Ailani did reeked of waste, and the empty eyes of the Council only deepened that feeling. They looked so disappointed in her.

They looked a lot like her parents, too.

Oh, her parents. The thought was enough to pull tears back into her chest, but Ailani swallowed the pain, locking it tight. What was she supposed to do now? How was she supposed to go on? What was she now? After her failure before her parents, her confession to Wolffe, and her outburst to the Council—what was Ailani now?

What was she besides empty? She tried to search her mind for protocols and procedures, but nothing returned to her. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. She had hit a wall and crossed an invisible line only to find the void on the other side. Nothing. She had dreamed of leaving and returning to her parents, but the blind and childish fantasy before her now rang closer to a nightmare. Her mind was so blank, her ears ringing and her senses blind. She was nothing. Endless nothing.

"If this is truly what you want, your lightsaber must be returned," The silence was broken, her thoughts broken, her uncertainty broken by Master Adi.

Her lightsaber? The words sat on the surface of Ailani's mind, refusing to sink in. Despite her confusion, Ailani felt herself moving mechanically. She unclipped the weapon from her belt, holding it numbly in her hands. The beskar and Nabooian gold burned against the bandages that wrapped her hands. Returned? What did he mean? Must the lightsaber be returned? It was made for her; it belonged to her. This was hers. This was the only thing in the whole universe that was hers. She felt caught again, strangled in a snare. A mess of emotions washed over her: possessiveness, fear, anger, and…and…

Ailani's mind drifted back to the first days of the war, after she met the Loyalist Committee, everyone had seen her for the first time, and everyone had heard the name Réillata. She replayed the looks on everyone's faces, every painful and shocked expression. The warmth of her face, the endless embarrassment and confusion. What had made the Council lean into the Chancellor's admission of her heritage? After a decade of secrecy, why had they finally given in?

She had spent her entire existence afraid. Afraid of saying her last name a little too loud, afraid when people looked a little too close at her lightsaber. She didn't want to be difficult. She didn't want to be different. She wanted to be like everyone else. She wanted to be a good Jedi. The Council had wanted something more. Something Ailani knew she could never be. She wouldn't let them keep the scraps of her broken lineage just so they could prove that they tried.

"This lightsaber is my birthright," Ailani replied. Her voice was hoarse but still firm. She needed it to be better. She coughed once to clear her words, then repeated herself, "This lightsaber is my birthright."

"The kyber is not." Mace Windu countered, looking at her with a pointed stare. He seemed so deadly calm. All of them seem so deadly calm.

She had once loved that. She had once needed that. Now, it just made them all look like horrible, wicked liars. The galaxy wasn't calm. Nothing was calm anymore. Calm had not gotten them anything good. Calm had gotten them here. Calm had wrapped them up in this war.

It made her enraged. "I'd like to see you try and take it from me." The statement was near insanity. She was no match for them alone, much less as a group, but the fire in her voice made anything seem possible.

The group fell quiet, letting Ailani burn up and burn out as they silently watched her. They may have reached an understanding, but they would never have reached forgiveness.

Yoda hummed, "Your right, it is. In peace, take it."

In peace. Was that it? Was she supposed to leave in peace? Did she even know what that meant? Her muscles were stiff with tension, strain, and pain, holding her heart together. She was on edge. She didn't know anything about peace. She had been fighting since she was four years old, begging for her parent's attention. How could she take anything in peace? How could anything be taken in peace?

Weren't they going to say that they would miss her?

Everyone stood in silence.

It suddenly occurred to Ailani that perhaps she had misunderstood everything. The war, the Republic, the very beings before her. She had misunderstood it all. Any sense of knowing or understanding she had felt was simply a mirage, clouded by feeling and hurt and loneliness. She had missed out on her own life, and no one would miss her. The realization stuck Ailani in the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. And she was running. Her feet moved towards the door before she could fully comprehend the change. The sound of her shoes scraping against the floor, the echo in the quiet. She was trembling, her eyes restlessly scanning the quiet faces.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Sad eyes and tired faces, but no surprise in anyone's expression. Everyone knew this would happen. Everyone expected it. They were just waiting. Waiting for her to give up. Waiting for her to give in. She never belonged here. And they all knew it. And they kept her anyway. Trapped.

And then she was running.

Running out the door as fast as her legs could manage, her backpack in hand, the wind against her cheeks, the marble halls flashing and crashing by. The walls of the cage in her heart and her mind were crumbling, horrible sickly saliva pooling in her mouth and burning flames crawling up her nerves. She was heaving and sobbing again, gasping for air that would never come, breath that wouldn't reach her lungs.

Out. Out. Out. She needed out.

Bodies and beings tumbled in her wake as she crashed through all the crowds. The sounds of shock fell on her uncomprehending ears, and her movements refused to slow.

She ran past her old bedroom. Past the training rooms. Past the classrooms. Past the Archives. She ran past everything she had known and would never know again. Perhaps she had never known any of it at all.

Out. Out. Out. She needed out.

The temple's stairs and the sun's light finally forced Ailani to cross the line between distress and hysteria. Tears and broken gasps took her sanity and stability, and she fell down the final three steps, tripping over her own feet and hitting the ground with a sickening crack that resonated through her entire being. The feeling was unlike any other injury before, unlike any other fall. She remained on her hands and knees, blood and saliva dripping from her lips, body trembling with strain.

What had she just done?

The realization hit her fully now, pulling a sick and dying sound from her throat, horrible and maimed like a hunted beast. She stared at the ground below her hands—the blurry, sunlight ground. Ailani blinked back more tears, but the floor refused to focus—refused to fall back into reality.

Everything was out of focus. And she had nowhere to go. The sunlight seemed almost mocking, warming the back of her shivering body, awakening the world for a new beginning. A new day. A new start.

Ailani pushed herself away from the steps, crawling and stumbling until she was trapped in an alley. She sat back and wrapped her arms around her body, squeezing her eyes shut tight and pretending the sun's warmth was the warmth of a hug. She fell back into a practiced routine, rocking back and forth and whispering in her mind.

Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek.

But the mantra only pained her, sick with nostalgia that never existed. All memories of lavender were nothing more than lies spawned by a delusional child. Her parents hadn't even missed her. No one had missed her. None of it was real, and none of it could hold her together.

And she was crying again. Oh gods, would she ever stop crying? Ailani pulled herself even tighter, holding her body tightly. She had nothing else to cling to but her own weakened flesh and bones. And even that was failing with its trembles, shakes, and lungs that never seemed to stop burning.

The black hole inside had pulled in all light, and she was the only one to blame. She had burned all fragments of friendship, torn down any ties to the Order, and failed. Everything she had ever done had failed. Daughter. Jedi. Friend. Almost lover. Failure at it all. Not good enough, never good enough. Coward and mess. Horrible, wretched, hideous mess.

Ailani wept until her insides melted, until she was a mere shell of humanity and hurt. Darkness overcame and consumed her, casting a shadow over all that once was. Seconds passed like endless eternities, and Ailani floated between it all, just as she always had, caught between living and something worse than dying.

Dying.

Ailani had wasted so much of her life thinking of death and dying. She had craved it more than once, craved the emptiness it promised, the eternity of silence it possessed. Yet now, with nothing behind her and nothing ahead, Ailani suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to live. Not to live happily or freely, but Ailani desired to live so she could continue the punishment and the emptiness. Death was better than she deserved. She would keep living, even if it killed her.

For there was nothing to live for and nothing to die for. There was nothing at all. She was nothing. The Order was nothing. The war was nothing. Everything was nothing.

Even the lavender had failed.

#and that’s it #thats the end #For now #let’s meet up soon for part two okay?#ailani réillata #begged and borrowed time #writings

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