Ryvo watched the nurse give him the injection of painkiller medication and touched his taped ribs, wincing from the pain. The nurse gave him an admonishing look and walked off. He looked over at Skate, sitting on the next bed over in the SSD’s sickbay.

     “We might as well decorate the place here,” Ryvo said, indicating the walls. “We spend more time here than we do in our own quarters.”

     “The way your quarters look so spartan, you wouldn’t have to do much,” Skate pointed out.

     “Hey, this is just a temporary thing,” Ryvo countered. “My permanent residences are always made to look nice.”

     Skate rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and nice means weapons hanging on the wall.”

     “I guess it’s in the eye of the beholder,” he said, smiling.

     “As is pretty much everything,” Skate said.

     He slid off his examination bed and sat next to her. “I love talking to you. We always have the most interesting conversations.”

     “It’s always been that way,” Skate said, smiling. “So, are your quarters here going to become permanent?”

     Ryvo blew out his breath. “I’ve gotta go take care of this Prestin situation. Find out what his deal is, try to patch things up. But after that, I will stay as long as I can. I do want to finish my training. Are we still going?”

     “Going?” she asked, confused.

     “To Adarlon? On vacation?”

     She laughed. “Oh, yeah. I think that mind control thing did stuff to my memory. Of course we’re still going. But you’re going to have a tough time on those rides what with your broken ribs.”

     “I’ll manage,” Ryvo said.

     “Oh, you’re so macho,” Skate said, then laughed. “Hey, I have something for you. I’ve had this for some time now, but it never occurred to me that you might want it.”

     She produced a tin box, about the length of Ryvo’s forearm. It was of the type that jewelry was packaged in. Ryvo smiled big and took the tin from her, opened it. But it wasn’t what he expected.

     “Hey,” he said, laughing. “I thought I’d never see this again.”

     Ryvo held up the bottle opener she’d found in his old apartment on Kiffu.

     “That’s why I thought it would be a big surprise,” Skate said with a sly smile.

     Ryvo returned the smile. “And a surprise it is.”

     “I sense something in your tone,” Skate said, narrowing her eyes.

     “I just…it’s stupid, I know, but…I was hoping I’d open it to find your lightblade, since you have a lightsaber and all…”

     Skate was laughing. “If and when you get that far, you’ll have to make your own. Me give you my lightblade. That made my day.”

     “This made mine,” Ryvo said, waving the bottle opener.

     “Sure,” Skate said, sobering.

     “Seriously,” Ryvo said, “it was sweet. Thank you. I just wish I had something for you.”

     “Maybe you do,” Skate in a tone that Ryvo thoroughly enjoyed.

     They shared a brief kiss, then he pulled back and looked at her.

     “So,” he said, shrugging, “what are we?”

     She bit her lip in thought. “Humanoids.”

     “No shit, Olie,” he said derisively. “What is the nature of our relationship? I mean are we…together?”

     “Together,” Skate said in a reflective tone. “That is a very vague word. But I think I know what you’re getting at. I think that after what went down the last few days you can figure out what my feelings are for you.”

     “I have some ideas,” Ryvo admitted.

     “It’s just hard for me to say,” Skate said, looking down.

     “You just did,” Ryvo said, putting his arm around her. She looked up at him, smiling. “So…we’re going to have to lay down some ground rules.”

     “Okay,” she said, nodding. “How about we take turns? I make a rule, then you make one?”

     “Who goes first, though? Wait, I’ve got it. Paper, rock, scissors. Ready? Go.”

     They slammed their hands down on their palms.

     “My paper beats your rock!” Skate said. “I go first. No watching wrestling while I’m present.”

     “Ouch, good one,” Ryvo said. “But I’ve a better one. Separate quarters.”

     “Of course,” Skate said, nodding.

     “You know, I am a perfectionist, and I have a place for everything,” Ryvo explained. “And, well, I’ve seen your quarters.”

     “Okay, my turn,” Skate said. “No—“

     “And isn’t this a sweet little scene.”

     Ryvo looked up to find Jace framed by the door, his hands behind his back.

     “Jace!” Skate exclaimed. “You disappeared on us down there. Did you find Reno?”

     “Yes,” Jace said simply. “It’s a long story and I don’t care to speak about it now. But Ryvo, if you’ll excuse yourself?”

     “Sure,” Ryvo said, standing and heading for the door. He looked to Skate. “Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with him.”

     Ryvo walked out of sickbay before Jace could give a response, if there even was one. He walked along the corridor and stopped at the outpatient room where his parents were being treated.

     “Hey, what’s the scoop?” he asked, sitting on a chair in the room.

     “Just minor scrapes and bruises, some malnutrition, but nothing that can’t be easily fixed,” his father said. He glanced at his wife. “That’s just physically, though.”

     Ryvo took his mother’s hand. “You okay, mom?”

     She only nodded, and it wasn’t a convincing one.

     “Ryvo, you’ve got some great friends,” his father said.

     “Well, yeah, but…”

     Ryvo stopped himself, thought twice about telling his father that had Reno not been the main objective, they’d probably still be in their cell, or worse, dead. Ryvo was sure Skate would have done all she had done, no matter what, but the fact was that without Reno missing, there would have been no grand search. That point was paradoxically moot as had there been no TOS plan to capture Reno, there would have been no reason to kidnap Ryvo’s parents as a means of blackmailing him into his role in the plot.

     “Yeah, they’re great.”

     “As great as they are, though, it wasn’t them who rescued us, really,” Garien said.

     “I know, Skate told me,” Ryvo said. “Kovares.”

     “He was messed up in the head,” Garien said. “At one point, he thought we were his parents. Apparently the kid has some skeletons in his closet.”

     “Had,” Ryvo corrected. “He died on the planet, apparently at the hands of Xanthis.”

     “I see,” Garien said, nodding somberly. “Xanthis…one of those Sith lords Eltrar spoke of?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Bastards,” Garien hissed. “That was a good kid. He just had problems.”

     “Well, believe me, what with the mental condition he was in, he is better off dead,” Ryvo said.

     “Especially when you die a hero,” Garien added. “He deserves a good burial.”

     Ryvo winced. “He doesn’t deserve anything.”

     “He saved us!”

     “To atone for what he had done! Not to win a medal!”

     “What did you do with his body?” Garien demanded.

     “I left it down there,” Ryvo answered, his tone cold. “Just like I left Pawl.”

     “Pawl?” Garien echoed, taken aback.

     “Story for another time,” Ryvo said, wanting to kick himself for letting his dead cousin’s name slip.

     “Okay,” Garien said, nodding, but clearly disappointed. “I hope someday you’ll learn to check that vindictive attitude of yours, boy.”

     There was a short silence before Ryvo spoke.

     “Dad, you two can’t return to Celanon. I’ve made some enemies these past few weeks. Some really bad enemies. You’ve witnessed their wrath firsthand. Now, I know you’ve got your business to run and—“

     “So where are we going?” his father asked, smiling broadly, probably as happy as Ryvo for a change in discussion.

     “What?” Ryvo asked, taken off guard. “No arguments?”

     “I’m getting old, son, and my entire life has been work, work, work. I want to relax and enjoy my prosperity. I’d really like to write. I mean stories. Some of the stuff Captain Vanicus told me just sends the imagination flying.”

     “Okay,” Ryvo said, rubbing his hands together. “This is great. Uh, I have this Alliance safeworld in mind, it’s—“

     “They’re the New Republic now.”

     “Sure, dad. Anyways, it’s small, it’s quiet, just what you’re looking for if you want a nice place to pursue your new…interest.”

     Garien shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Where is it?”

     “Small moon orbiting a gas giant in a distant Outer Rim system. Called Dubder.”

     “Does that sound good to you, honey?” Garien asked Karisa.

     She looked up at her husband, then to her son, and nodded. Ryvo looked at his mother and frowned. She didn’t look like the same woman he’d seen just weeks earlier. She wasn’t this somber even when she was tired or sick. A certain sparkle was missing from her eyes. She was just another victim to TOS. But to Ryvo, it was his mother. Jace had yet to reveal what had happened when he’d gone after Xanthis on Zhar Delba. Hopefully he’d killed the bastard, and done so in a painful way. But if not, then that just left the opportunity to plan Xanthis’ painful death.

     And besides, his mother was strong. She would overcome this, and become only stronger in the process. Just as Ryvo had from his recent ordeal. He felt like a new man, and liked the way that man looked. For the first time in his life, he was sure of himself, sure of what he wanted. And he would get it.

     Skate stood in her voluminous robe before the rusted gate and pushed it open, stepped into the garden. It was not in good condition, the plants dead, shrubs growing over everything. A stone path led to a gazebo in the center of the small courtyard. She started to head for it when she looked down. Her bare feet were standing on a thorny bush that lay on the path. She looked ahead and saw that the entire path was covered in the growth. She walked ahead anyway, feeling the thorns pierce her skin, the warm blood seeping from her feet. When she reached the circular courtyard, she took a step on it, felt the blood slipping beneath her feet. She continued on to the gazebo, leaving a trail in her wake. Once inside the gazebo, she saw a stone well in the center, several cups sitting on the rim. Some were carved from wood, some were ornate pottery, a few were of glass and crystal, and one was made of metal. She stopped in front of the well, across from the side with the cups. Looking down into the water, she saw nothing but darkness on the gently undulating surface. She felt thirsty, so she looked back at the cups. One of them stood out to her. The metal one. She picked it up, wiped and blew away the dust that covered it. It was a silver chalice, with intricate carvings and two blue jewels embedded in it. She dipped it in the water, filling it to halfway. As she raised it to her lips, she thought twice, and stopped. Slowly, staring at the chalice, she held it out to her side and poured the water on the ground, where it showed that it wasn’t water at all. It burned the stone away like acid, leaving a smoking puddle of residue. She glanced at the other cups, glad she had not chosen them. Her thirst still nagged at her, so she dipped the chalice into the water again, filled it almost to the top. She then brought it to her mouth and drank. Nothing happened…nothing but the quenching of her thirst. As she smiled and set the chalice down on the lip of the well in front of her, she noticed her reflection in the water, smiling as she was. It then nodded she as she nodded.

     Skate woke up, felt warm. She was in bed with Ryvo, her arms wrapped around him, his breathing a comforting sensation. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. But her smile remained.

     Jace strode down a corridor, leaving Reno’s cabin. He had been watching Star patch up Reno and ignoring her looks at him. Going after Reno alone as he did made him a fool to some, a hero to others. Star’s impression was definitely of the latter, or maybe even a third option, one that Jace didn’t care to entertain at that time. Or, frankly, at any time.

     Romance. That was something he had found in Skate’s mind, when he had performed his deep mind probe on her, testing her for loyalty. The loyalty of each of the Siths was something he needed to know, whether to stop them from interfering in his plans, or to use them as a pawn to further those plans. He had also found something interesting. Weeks ago, on Kiffu, Skate had come across a girl who had appeared—or not appeared—as a dark spot on the Force. The same as Jeminn Carr had. The same as Leko Akude had. Whatever these people were, with their strange contraptions, intense demeanor and references to the galaxy as foreign place, he would find out. The sheer number of…encounters…with the aliens in such a short period of time could be nothing short of a portent. It had to be destiny, and he reminded himself that his destiny was in his own hands.

     Jace had also found romance on Ryvo’s mind. Not just for Skate, but something else, too. Dark, painful memories. Besides that, Ryvo had nothing of value or interest roaming around in his head. Nothing but garbage like pro wrestling. Recording pro wrestling when he was unable to watch it on holovision. Making sixteen hour long hyperdrive journeys just to see a show. Going to some hamburger joint with scantily clad waitresses to see free pay-per-views. What a loser.

     Pro wrestling. No matter how much Jace despised—or didn’t care enough to despise—it, the fact was that for a brief time, he had been a pro wrestler. While he still thought it was lowbrow entertainment made for the uncultured masses, he did learn something from it. No, not that the wrestlers were “great athletes” who worked without an off-season, or that they were just as much stage performers as those in theater. What he learned is that his life, in a way, was just like that of a pro wrestler. He lived every day of his life with a “gimmick”, a fabricated personality, an imaginary allegiance that he could not reveal to his audience. And like a masked wrestler, he could not reveal himself to his peers, for risk of them exposing his identity, and in so doing ruining him. But unlike a pro wrestler, in the end his payoff would be huge.

     Still, during the mind probe, he had manipulated Ryvo’s memory so that the fanatic wouldn’t constantly harass and question him about the experience.

     He was almost to the turbolift when his hopes of making it to his quarters unbothered were shattered. Rick stepped out from an open-doored room, holding his hands up.

     “Jace, Jace,” the kid began. He lowered his voice. “Look, I know you think I might be crazy, and I understand that, but you’ve got to listen to me! I think Narska is still on the Rebels’ side. I had proof of this, but I had to discard it for reasons of stench.”

     The turbolift doors opened for Jace, who had not stopped walking during Rick’s tirade. He entered, spun around and gave the kid an incredulous look.

     Rick smiled awkwardly. “I know it sounds weird, but—“

     The doors closed and Jace stated his destination. The doors reopened moments later and he found three more Siths waiting for him. He weaved his way through them.

     Thunder spoke first. “Why didn’t you tell us where you were going? And why didn’t you let us know that Reno was back. This is—“

     “I am sick and tired of this, getting stuck with bridge duty,” Palin said. “But now that Reno’s back, maybe things will change.”

     “Hey, it’s not our fault you fly a B-wing,” Jen told Palin, then turned her attention to Jace. “Hey, you returned with Reno intact and there’s no celebration? What kind of crap is that? We’ve got to—“

     “Jace,” Thunder cut back in. “I was thinking, Skate was penalized for running off on her own, and since you basically did the same thing, don’t you think that you should have to paint some helmets?”

     Jace stopped before his door, turned slowly. He looked at Thunder. “I relinquish command of Sith Squadron to you.”

     The Adumari woman was taken aback, but after a few moments, she responded. “I relieve you.”

     He punched in the code and slid through the door, shut it.  He fell back against his door, letting exhaustion take him.  Slowly, his body began to shake, though he did not think it was because of his weariness.  He started to laugh softly, though it was not a laugh of joy or mirth.  It was a laugh of pain and sorrow.  He could feel the emotions rising in him, escaping from behind the walls he had set up inside of him.  As he laughed, a tear or two forced themselves through his eyelids and down his face.  Finally, when he could take no more, and when his emotions had reached their boiling point, he just let it all go.

     Falling onto the couch he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. It had been a long week. A long month. A long life. And it wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. In some ways, it was just beginning.

     Jace sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. Behind him, the rest of his quarters lay in shambles.  Lamps broken, glass shattered, wood splintered, metal that had lightsaber scars in them…shambles. 

     His mind was awash with thoughts, feelings and emotions.  It was a sensation that was all together new to him, as he usually kept everything bottled down and secured.  He wouldn’t even say that he very rarely felt like this, because it was more extreme than that.  He had never felt like this.  This was the first time Jace had ever lost control of his emotions and just let loose.  It was something that was, perhaps, long over due.

      He took a few deep, calming breaths and closed his eyes.  He needed to think calmly.  He needed to think clearly.  He had made several very important choices lately, and they needed reflection.  More than that, though, he needed to understand what he had done.  And not just what, but why.      

     And in front of him, Jace saw his salvation.

     Lying on the table was a datapad. In that datapad, Jace saw an exhaust vent for all the turmoil that was his emotional state…that was his life. But an exhaust vent only vented…it didn’t put out the fire. Still, better to release some of the pressure rather than let it build to the breaking point.  He looked around his quarters.  Well, at least to another breaking point.  He had lost control of his emotions once, and it resulted in the destruction of his quarters.  It wasn't okay for something like this to happen to him, and he couldn't allow it to happen again.  He needed a way to vent that would be perhaps a bit less...destructive.

     He picked the datapad up off the table and set it to record.

     “I‘m not sure what to say, really,” he started out slowly.  “So much has happened lately.  So much has changed.  And yet, despite all that...so much has stayed the same. 

     “When Reno was captured, I was furious.  No…not furious.  Scared.  I was afraid that I would be denied what is rightfully mine...the chance to kill Reno.  I thought that my dream of destroying him would be stolen from me.  That fear drove me, it motivated me, and forced me down a path that I was not truly ready to take yet.  And after walking to the end of the road, I think that the only thing I truly know now is that somewhere along the way I lost sight of my goal.

     “Reno murdered my parents and destroyed whatever life I could’ve had on Tatooine.  I told myself that for his crimes, he would die.  I said that when the time was right, he would die.  There was no doubt in my mind that I truly believed that.  But if that was the case, then why is Reno still alive?

     “When Reno was captured I went after him, not because I wanted him back, but because I couldn’t stand the thought that someone would get to kill him before I could.  I made it my new mission to go wherever I need to go, to do whatever I needed to do to get to Reno before he was killed.  On nothing more than a weak distress signal from what I thought was Nuprin, I started my quest to get Reno.  It took me from some unknown planet to the Terror of Space to Kiffu to Sova to MH-JL to Reuss Eight and didn’t end until I reached Rhen Var.  And…against all the odds...despite everything that happened in between...I reached Rhen Var.  By Sadow, I did it. 

     “But it cost me.  It cost me a lot more than I ever thought it could’ve.  And I lost a lot.   But how can a man who has nothing in his life possibly lose anything?  I don’t know.  And yet, I’ve lost something.  What, I’m not sure yet, but I know that I have.  I’m missing something inside.  It doesn’t feel right.  I don’t feel right.  I don’t know.  Before this, I would’ve never lost control like this.  I have always been strong, disciplined, and in control of my emotions.  And I never lost sight of my goal.  Of my dream.  Somewhere along the line, I started to slip.  I think it started on Zhar Delba.

     “In the end, as it should be, it came down to me and Xanthis.  It was the first time we had dueled lightsaber to lightsaber since our fight on the asteroid base.  Suffice to say, the battle here was just as intense.  He was good.  I’ll give him that.  He was very good.  And I think against anyone else in our squadron, he would’ve won.  But not me.  Not with what I had riding on the line.  Nothing could’ve stopped me.  Despite his valiant efforts, Xanthis ended up being nothing more than a fly that stood in the path of a giant and was swatted away like the meaningless bug he is.  No, he isn’t meaningless.  And that is where I slipped.

     "I defeated Xanthis, again.  He was on the ground, with his saber across the room on the floor and mine inches away from his throat.  One twitch of my arm and he would’ve died.  But...it didn’t seem right.  I couldn’t kill him...not yet, at least.  As much as I tried, as much as I wanted to do it, I couldn’t kill him.  I can’t say that pity stayed my hand, because I do not feel pity for him.  It was something else. I just felt that it was not his time to die yet.  I felt that he still had some part yet to play in our story.  What part for sure, I cannot say.  It is another thing I don’t know. Nor was that the first time I had feelings like that.

     "When I was on the Terror of Space, I had both Zarin and Xanthis at my mercy.  They were lying unconscious, completely defenseless.  I could've killed them right then, but I didn't.  At the time I made up a lot of excuses for my actions.  I told myself that the only option I had was to leave them alive.  I couldn't have tried to sneak off the ship with both of them, or even one of them.  I didn't have the time for an interrogation, and if I had just killed them, I might never have found out where Reno was.  But that wasn't really it.  Now that I understand things a bit better, I realize that a part of me knew that they both still had a role to play and that their deaths would serve no one.  So, I let them live.  What did it serve me, though?  I ended up killing Zarin anyway, it only happened later.  What purpose was there for me to spare Zarin, only to end up killing him?  Unless, of course, the benefit wasn't for me at all.  And Xanthis...

     "At the time, on Zhar Delba, I thought I was just being weak.  In my mind, I was soon going to Rhen Var, and I would kill Reno, and it would all be over, so why not kill Xanthis?  But...I knew that he couldn't die yet.  It didn't make sense.  What possible part could there be left for him to play?  Truth be told, some part of me just wanted him dead.  Some part still does. Xanthis is a constant reminder of my past, and that is something I would rather not have around.  On the other hand...some part of me just can't kill him.  Despite our differences, Xanthis is the exact same thing as I am...a product of Reno's crimes.  Xanthis is just as much a victim of Reno as I am.  He has just as much desire for vengeance as I do, and it is as justified as mine. What has Xanthis truly done to deserve death?  Or more appropriately, what has Xanthis done to deserve death that I myself haven't done?  If I kill Xanthis, that is as good as admitting that I myself deserve to die.  And I don't.  Killing Xanthis would be like killing myself, and I couldn't do that.  So...I let him live.

     “I think that was the first sign that things were not as I thought they were.  It was the first time that I realized everything was slipping away from what I thought it was supposed to be.  If Xanthis was supposed to live still, then there must be some bigger purpose for him.  Did it involve Reno?  If that were the case, then was I still supposed to kill Reno at that moment?  I didn’t know.  Those thoughts haunted me all the way to Rhen Var.  They still haunt me now.

     “After sparing his life, I let Xanthis go.  The Terror of Space was destroyed, their army in shambles, and Xanthis humbled and defeated.  He was no longer a threat to me.  None of them were.  I told him to flee, which he did.  I had no doubt he could escape Zhar Delba without being caught by any of the squadron.  I still haven’t given my debriefing on the campaign.  I suppose I’ll just tell them that Xanthis escaped.  With Reno back, I doubt they’ll give it much thought.  Reno...

     “I can’t believe how in the dark Reno kept me throughout the years.  I learned from Zarin, not my own Master, that he and Reno had trained together years before.  And I learned from Xanthis that they had trained on Rhen Var.  Reno never told me he had half a robotic right leg. I had to find that one out by seeing him with only half a leg.  Reno never spoke to me anything of his past.  Anything.  Even now, after all that has happened, I am still in the dark.  I don’t know if I’ll ever learn the truth about him.  I don’t know if I want to.  No…no, I do.  Before I kill him, I will learn everything.  And so will he.  I won’t kill him until he understands why.  And that brings us to my fall...

     “When I landed on Rhen Var, atop that mountain, Zarin was about to kill Reno.  Execute him.  He was about to steal my dream from me.  I was instantly glad I had taken Xanthis’ shuttle, because the sight of it stopped Zarin from dropping his saber on Reno for a few minutes.  But then I had a problem...how can I stop Zarin from killing Reno once I leave the shuttle?  Luckily, that problem was solved when Zarin turned around before I left the ship.  Why, though?  Why did he not even wait to see who it was before he turned his back?  I can’t believe Zarin would be stupid enough to do that unless he was absolutely sure I was Xanthis.  So why did he think I was Xanthis?

     “I think...I think that my hatred of Reno was just so incredible, so intense, that he felt it radiating off me.  Who else but Xanthis, his apprentice, could possibly hate Reno that much, after all?  Apparently, he underestimated me, and overestimated Xanthis.  It cost him his life.  But then, in our business, most mistakes do.

     “I don’t understand Zarin’s last words.  Something about a dream ending some day.  I’m sure it had relevance to Reno, though I’m also sure I will never know the true meaning of that relevance.  By that time, words were meaningless, however.  I didn’t care what Zarin said, and I had even less interest in anything Reno might have to say.  Zarin was dead, and Reno and I were the only ones left alive on the planet.  He was kneeling at my feet, and I had my saber ready in my hands.  All I had to do was swing and it would’ve all been over.  For me, that was the moment that I lived for.  It was the culmination of all my hard work and sacrifice.  It was the realization of my dream.  It was to be the greatest moment of my life.  And then he ruined it. 

     “I had him.  I had him exactly where I wanted him.  He was on his knees, looking up at me as he should be...all I had to do with swing my damn hand and he would’ve been dead! 

     “But then he started to cry.  I didn’t understand.  It didn’t make any sense at first.  Here is Reno, this big bad Sith Lord...leader of a squadron of Sith, of a mighty SSD...and here he was, crying at the feet of his apprentice.  I was not sure what to make of it.  But then it hit me. 

     “I went there to kill Reno, to take everything from him like he took from me.  I didn’t just want to kill him.  I wanted to kill him when he was at his peak, when he thought he owned the entire galaxy.  As he kneeled in front of me crying and broken, I realized that this was not the time.  What point would there be to killing him now?  He was actually supposed to care about his death, and know what he would be losing.  What would he lose now?  He had nothing.  He had less than I have.  He was a defeated man, a broken man...he was someone that had nothing to lose.  Death would not have been a punishment for him at that point, but a reward.

     “So...I let him live, too.  I deactivated my saber, picked him up and helped him back to Xanthis’ ship.  Sneaking him onboard the SSD was no problem.  I didn’t try to hide the fact that Reno was back.  In fact, I wanted people to know he had returned.  But I couldn’t let them see Reno like I saw him.  It would be...dispiriting, to say the least.  Who wants to see their leader and Master as a broken down shell of his former self?  It would not do well for morale, nor people’s image and perception of Reno.  And that is what I need to work on now.

     “Reno will die.  He cannot avoid that.  And I will be his death.  That is a promise.  How he fails to see the hatred, despite my walls, is beyond me.  I suppose it is fitting, though, that the person he thinks he knows best is probably the person he really knows the least.  Yes, Reno will die...but not right now.  Now is the time to rebuild.  I do not know what Zarin did to him on Rhen Var, and again, knowing Reno, I probably never truly will...but whatever he did, it really messed Reno over.  When I looked into his eyes, I did not see the Reno I was used to seeing in them.  I’m not sure what I saw.  I’m not sure I saw anything there anymore.

     “But like I said, now is the time to rebuild.  His mind needs to be rebuilt...his ego needs to be rebuilt...but most of all, his life needs to be rebuilt.  Because I cannot take away from him which he does not have.  It will take time...oh, yes, I know that...it will take time.  But I can be patient.  I can be very patient.  I can sit quietly in the shadows in the meantime...helping him along the path that I need him to follow.  Along the path that will take him back up the mountain.  And then, when he is at the peak of his mountain, I will be waiting for him.  And we will finish it once and for all.  For it is my dream.  And I will not allow anyone to stop me from accomplishing that dream.”

     Jace stopped talking and looked down at his datapad.  It was asking him if he wanted to save his log entry.  He, of course, couldn’t.  He had never meant to save this.  He only needed to talk about it.  He needed to get it off his chest.  He needed to make some sense of his life and once again put some order into it.  He thought, finally, that he had.  He pushed the delete button, and watched as the computer erased his entire log entry. 

     When it was done, he shut the power down and the screen faded to black.  It was not empty, however, as he saw a reflection in the black screen.  A face.  At first he didn’t recognize it.  It seemed older than it should’ve been.  It seemed beaten, weathered, conflicted, and pained.  It was a face of sorrow, and a face of infinite sadness. 

     It was the face of one who would never know joy in his lifetime, or happiness 

     It was the face of one who could never live a normal life, because a normal life was not written for him. 

     It was the face of one who had resigned himself to his fate, whatever it may be.

     It was the face of one who had chosen the road he would walk in life, regardless of how dark the path before him looked.

     It was the face of the person that Jace truly hated the most, even more so than Reno.

     Everyone had a face inside that they never let anyone else see.  One that they showed only to themselves, in the dark, when they thought no one else was looking or watching.  Reno had one.  Zarin had one.  Xanthis had one.  And Jace had one.  He wondered silently if the others hated their inner faces as much as he hated his own.