So She Fell

Chapter Five: Bully

“If she can’t remember when she loses her temper, nobody knows her but tonight her silence is over.”

XXXXX

“This court hereby finds Sunry innocent of the murder of the Sith Elassa.”

Sunry let out a sigh of relief. The Sith arbiter’s jaw dropped. Connan bit her tongue to try and hide her mortification.

“In addition,” The Selkath went on. “This court finds the Sith Empire guilty of conspiracy and obstruction of justice.”

The Sith arbiter looked horrified. “Your Honors! No!”

Connan looked away, hating to actually feel sorry for a Sith.

“The verdict has been delivered and this trial is now over.”

“Oh, Sunry, I’m so glad.” Elora cried, throwing her arms around the innocent murderer and hugging him tightly.

“Elora,” Sunry replied.

Jolee, Carth, and Mission stayed silent, no one willing to look at the happy couple or at Connan. Connan grabbed her bag and all but ran out of the courtroom. Her three companions had to be quick to keep up with her.

Sunry had the bad inspiration to approach Connan as she entered the street. He folded his hands together in front of his chest and grinned. “Thank you for saving me. I don’t know how I can repay you. Elora and I are going to leave here and get as far away from all of this as soon as we can.”

Connan’s eyes narrowed, ignoring the ever-building pain behind her eyes. “You can’t run from what you did.”

Sunry turned indignant. “Do you still intend to lecture an old man?”

I hate you.

The thought was in Connan’s mind so fast she didn’t think twice about it. How dare he ask her what she intends to do? She’d just saved his life, she’d just rescued the Republic embassy from screwing themselves over for covering up his murder, and all he could do was pout because she was about to lecture him?

She could see Sunry flinch at her unforgiving stare. He scratched at his throat sheepishly.

Entering Sunry’s personal space, Connan stood nose-to-nose, making her voice very quiet and still just as threatening. “I intend to warn a murderer. Just because you’re moving doesn’t mean you’re leaving your past behind. If you have any sort of conscience left, it will eat you up inside. It will follow you everywhere you go, and you won’t be able to go one single day without thinking about it.” She lowered her voice even more, so even her friends behind her couldn’t hear her. “Consider yourself lucky, Sunry. The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because you’re Jolee’s friend, and I’m running out of allies. But if I ever see you again after today….” She shrugged, letting the silence speak for her.

Sunry paled. He backed up a few steps.

Force I hate you. Connan shook her head. I loathe you. I despise you.

Connan blinked at herself. What?

This wasn’t normal. Connan never hated people. She didn’t like them, or she looked down upon them, but she never outright hated anyone. It just wasn’t in her.

Her head was now pounding steadily. Connan set her jaw and made her face look blank. “Good-bye, Sunry.” Connan nodded her head to him. “Elora.”

Then she turned to her right and disappeared into Manaan.

XXXXX

Carth saw Connan disappear behind a door into another Manaan street and bolted after her. He knew if he let her get away they would never find her again until she wanted to be found.

And when would that be, really?

“I hate it when she does that.” Mission grumbled.

“Jolee….” Sunry started. “You should know—”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” Jolee interrupted. He stared in the direction Connan and Carth took off in. “I don’t want to hear it.” He shook his head at his old friend. “I wish you well on your journey, and I hope you can start a new life together that will be better than this one.” But I doubt it, his mind finished. From the look Sunry had on his face, whatever Connan said to him had affected him badly. He wouldn’t be forgetting this anytime soon.

Jolee grasped Mission by the arm and dragged her down the street.

A few yards down they met with Carth, who huffed and leaned his arms against his knees for support.

“She’s gone.” He stated between breaths. “I looked everywhere. She’s just gone.”

Mission stared, wide-eyed. “Did she leave anything?”

When Carth shook his head, Jolee tried to stamp down the fear that suddenly bubbled up.

“We need to find her, then.” He concluded. “Let’s split up.”

XXXXX

Connan grasped at her juma juice and downed it in one gulp. She sighed and nodded her thanks to the bartender as he refilled her drink.

Her head pounded against her eyes, taking them out of focus for a moment. She shut them for a long time and opened them slowly. I am not about to see another memory.

She took another drink of juma juice.

I’m just so angry. She thought. My head hurts. It’s practically pounding. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out what was happening. I don’t want another memory. I wish it would stop. I’m not that person. I’m not Darth Revan!

And yet, deep inside, she knew she was wrong. Her inner self argued with her denial.

You lie.

Connan ran her hands through her hair, tugging on the loose locks. She wondered where she’d put her hair band.

I don’t!

Inside her head, her inner self laughed. You hypocrite. You can call everyone else a liar but you can’t handle it when someone points out your own faults?

Shaking her head, Connan gulped down another juma juice. She grit her teeth when the pain simply amplified. Stop. Please stop.

Connan could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. She shut them and rubbed them as hard as she could. The pain multiplied.

I can’t do this in public.

As she made her way toward the exit, she heard the voice reply to her. You’re pathetic.

Connan snarled, not noticing the man in front of her until she plowed into him. She nearly toppled over beside him, but he reached out and caught her. He tugged her back upright.

“Connan? Are you all right?”

Connan froze. She knew that voice.

Oh, Gods, no. Not now. Please not now.

She jerked back from Carth’s arms, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong, Connan?” Carth asked, looking genuinely concerned. He reached out for her, flinching slightly when she jolted away. His look changed from worried to determined. “What is wrong?”

“I—” Her voice broke. Connan cleared her throat, hoping the squeaky tone wasn’t going to come back when she next spoke. “I have to go.” She quickly walked around Carth and out of the cantina. She entered Ahto West and turned down an alley.

The pressure inside her head started to wrap around her eyes, trying to force its way out. She leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to keep it inside. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Her breath caught, and it sounded more labored than soothing.

Footsteps echoed through the alley. Connan glanced down the side street and groaned. Carth had followed her from the cantina and down the alley. She would have to chase him off.

Or you could let him see you are who you say you aren’t. Her wretched self suggested. Connan ignored it.

“Carth, leave me alone.” She pleaded, backing further down the alley. “Please.”

Carth straightened. He seemed to come to a decision and balled his hands into fists. He squared his shoulders and looked straight at Connan. “I will not leave you when you look like you’re about to drop.” He clarified.

Connan couldn’t let herself feel special at those words. She couldn’t. She focused on pushing her headache back, ignoring Carth altogether. Maybe, since he wouldn’t leave, she could make the headache go away before it—

The pressure intensified tenfold at the thought. Connan winced, rubbing her head. She couldn’t hold back anymore. This was it. The next time she blinked, it would happen.

She had to get away before then.

“Connan, what is wrong?” Carth asked, reaching out again and snagging her arm. He held it tightly, but not enough to hurt. His voice sounded as desperate as Connan’s had.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Leave me alone.” Connan spat, trying to pull away, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open and under her control. Carth held fast. The urge to blink became unbearable. She tried again with another lie. “Sunry’s case just upset me. I swear. Go away.”

Carth scoffed. “Yeah, right. I can tell the difference between being upset and feeling crippling pain.”

Translation: He sees right through you. Her inner voice interpreted.

The pain, coupled with Connan’s thoughts and her own inner fear, caused her to make one final attempt at solitude. “Force, no one will just leave me alone! Does everyone assume that whenever I leave you all to yourselves, I’m plotting to take over the galaxy? Is that why you followed me?”

Carth flinched. “Stop.”

Good. A reaction she could use. She took a steadying breath, which simply hitched and choked inside, dissipating and making her thirst for breath again. “Hit on the truth, did I? Wouldn’t want me to go blow up another planet, would we? Of course, these days, simply my presence puts the entire planet at risk.” She scoffed, trying to hold back the urge to blink. She was doing a remarkably good job, she thought.

“You’re trying to distract me.” Carth maintained.

“Am I? May I remind you that I practically just saved the Republic, in theory, by letting that murderer go free? What, is this my reward for doing a job well done? Do I get a visible escort instead of suspicious glances and hushed whispers you people think I can’t hear? You get to come with me in my quest to forget my life by consuming so much alcohol I can’t even speak. Lucky you.”

Connan spoke the last part with such venom that Carth cringed.

“And you’re going to justify it to yourself by saying that you’re just looking out for me.” She scoffed. “Well, you might be looking out for me, but it’s only because you’ll probably only get one surprise shot in if I actually pull some Dark Side act, which you apparently have no trouble seeing me do. Heh.” She looked away now, too angry at herself for saying such things to Carth, even if it was only to drive him away. “I wish you’d stop. I can’t stand you looking at me.” She tried again to pull back. “So just go away, already.”

Carth’s grip tightened. “You don’t mean that. I know you don’t mean that.”

“I—”

The pressure inside her mind gave one last push. Connan’s knees buckled and she let out a choked sob. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to hold back what was about to happen. She wrenched her arm away from Carth, using it to cover her ears, as if they we in pain, too.

No. Not here. Not now. Anywhere else. Please!

For one single, solitary moment there was absolute silence. The throbbing inside Connan’s head was gone, the pain was nonexistent, the outside noise of Manaan disappeared into nothing, even Carth’s alarmed cry reverberated though nothing and stopped before it reached Connan.

Then the pressure rammed into her once again, forcing her eyes open and releasing what she’d been holding back.

The sheer force of her memory threw her back up, against the wall behind her. She slammed into the wall, startling Carth into standing back up. He stared at Connan in absolute shock.

Connan wasn’t paying attention. All she could see was the movie playing in front of her that happened to be about both herself and her worst enemy.

Who, ironically, happened to be the same person.

XXXXX

Carth’s jaw dropped.

“Connan?” He asked. Connan didn’t respond. She just sat there, wide-eyed, horrified at what she was seeing.

He reached out to try and touch what floated before him. Another hand came out of no where and stopped him.

“I wouldn’t touch that.” Jolee advised. “No telling what could happen.” He crossed his arms and sighed. “We’ll just have to wait it out.”

Carth didn’t like it, but there was nothing in particular he could do about it. He grit his teeth and tried as hard as possible to not wring his hands.

She didn’t mean that, he found himself thinking. She just said it to drive me away, to stop me from seeing this. She really didn’t mean that.

Did she?

XXXXX

“My Lord! Forgive me!”

The man fell to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him, shaking and raised toward the cloaked woman in front of him. His head was bowed, his eyes closed tightly. He seemed to be sweating profusely.

He also adamantly ignored the bodies of his crewmates around him.

The woman sneered. Her yellowed eyes glared at the man, her eyebrows rising up in irritated surprise.

“Forgive you?” She hissed. “Why would I do such a thing? Did I forgive your crew?” She clenched a fist and raised it. The man grasped his throat, rising up into the air, his feet hovering inches from the ground. “Tell me, when I order you to kill Ambassador Cholanda and only Ambassador Cholanda, do I mean you should take out three or four people trying to get to him?”

“No, you don’t, My L—!” The woman clenched her fist tightly. The man scratched at his throat, breaking the skin. Blood trailed down his neck. He tried again. “Darth Revan, My Lord! I beg your forgiveness!”

The woman—Revan—relaxed her grip, letting the man hit the ground, not bothering to try and break his fall. She sneered as he tried to stand. “Yes, beg. You have cost me quite a few cover-ups, Captain, and I do not appreciate extra work.” She stepped over toward the man and stared down at him. “Grovel, idiot.”

The man cringed, practically throwing himself into the prone position, with his forehead plastered to the cold metal ground. “I beg for forgiveness a thousand times over, Lord Revan.” The man exhaled a shaky breath. “My life is yours. Do with it what you will.”

Revan grinned, both with her eyes and with her mouth, but the look was more feral than sane. As soon as the look was there, it was gone, showing nothing but disgust. She swept her hand to the side, throwing the man across the room and into the wall.

Before the man could react, Revan whirled around, drew her lightsaber and ignited it. She thrust it into the wall, only inches from the man’s abdomen. She snarled at his frightened scream.

“You will report to Lord Malak.” She growled. “You will inform him that I am leaving for the planet to fix your problem myself.” She snickered to herself. “And you will let him do what he will to you.”

The Captain’s eyes widened in horror. Malak was notoriously worse with punishments that Revan was.

Revan’s eyes narrowed at the Captain’s expression. “Are you questioning me?” She slid her saber—still in the wall—sideways, closer to the man’s ribcage. She could hear his skin sizzling, and even smell the flesh. “You will report to Lord Malak. If I find out you haven’t, so help me I’ll leave you on Tatooine with the Sarlacc. Am I understood?”

“Yes, My Lord!” The Captain whimpered.

Revan smirked. “Good.” She rammed her knee into the man’s stomach before she sheathed her lightsaber and withdrew from the man. She listened to his retching for a moment before sweeping out of the room and toward the exit.

XXXXX

As quickly as the memory had started, it was gone.

Connan hit the ground, knocking her head against the stone floor. Jolee was upon her instantly, sitting her up and leaning her against the wall. Her eyes, now bloodshot from the length of the—whatever they’d just seen—stared listlessly in front of her, as if she couldn’t really see anything at all.

The next moment Carth knelt beside him, and they both began bombarding Connan with questions.

“Are you all right?”

“What just happened?”

“Is your head hurt at all?”

“You should try blinking a few times.”

“Connan, what was that?”

She absorbed them all, not answering a single one of them, simply listening. She seemed to be trying to make sense of what it was she’d seen.

But Jolee already had a good idea of what she’d seen, and it gave him chills. He hoped his hypothesis was wrong, but deep inside he knew it wasn’t.

Revan’s memories were coming back.

Instead of fear, Jolee felt a rush of pity. The poor girl, he thought, thinking she had to go through that all alone. What made her think that, anyway? Why would she start hiding this from us if we already know she’s Revan?

Finally Connan took in a shaky breath—Jolee could see the way she tried to control her quivering shoulders, to try and hide that she was trembling—and tried to stand.

XXXXX

When Connan tried to get up, Carth instantly pushed her back down. She didn’t try a second time, and actually tried to shrink away from him, as if he’d been out to hurt her and not keep her still.

“You’re not going anywhere, beautiful.” He ordered. “Just sit here for a few minutes and breathe.”

Again, Connan didn’t answer, she simply closed her eyes and took another breath. Jolee stood straight up, complaining about his back, and leaned against the opposite wall, watching Connan intently.

Deep inside, Carth was sick at heart. So this is what she didn’t want us to know. He thought. This whole time, we’ve been suspecting her of different things, and no one had predicted this. Even I didn’t, and I’m supposed to be the one who knows her best. He shook his head, completely disgusted with himself.

I’d been so horrible to her all those weeks ago, she must have thought everyone turned against her the moment I had. That would account for doing everything by herself, as well. If no one trusted her, there would be no way she’d ever trust anyone while on a mission. So she went alone.

I’m a pig.

He stood up as well, finally listening to his screaming legs to stretch them out. He kept a watch on Connan, though. No telling what she would do, anymore.

XXXXX

When Connan tried to stand and Carth pushed her back down, she complied immediately. She really didn’t want Carth to hit her, and that’s what she’d assumed he’d do to a Sith Lord.

Then he told her to sit there and breathe. Connan felt herself turn to stone, and not even the Force in all its strength could move her until a few minutes went by.

So Connan took another breath, closed her eyes, and started to count down from five hundred by .03.

The three occupants of the alley all stayed silent, but Connan’s thoughts were racing on the inside.

They know.

The thought sent a wave of nausea coursing through her. Carth stood up, with Jolee, and both of them scrutinized Connan, watching her intently, staring down at her from their standing positions. Probably scorning her.

She didn’t react outwardly, though on the inside she began steeling herself against more inspection and suspicion and scorn and hate and malcontent and wariness that she almost succeeded in drowning out her own feelings. If she over prepared herself for what was to come, the actual attack wouldn’t seem so bad.

Oh, well. If they wanted to yell and scream and insult and accuse, she wouldn’t stop them. Hell, she couldn’t even blame them. She’d probably throw in a couple of suggestions for them to use. She wouldn’t mind at all. If anything, she probably deserved it.

Still, even as emotionless as she’d forced herself to become, she still couldn’t stop the fear, paired with loneliness, crawling up her spine. She kept herself from staring at Carth, but it was a near thing. She knew exactly what was going to happen after this.

He’s going to tell everyone.

He would. In his sense of “protecting the Republic and the crew”, he would announce to the world that Revan was coming back; that the memories were returning, and everyone that Connan had come to depend on would turn on her as quickly as they could.

Her entire crew was gone, basically. She bit her tongue, forcing herself not to cry at the thought of Mission’s disgusted and terrified face.

And still, even after all Connan had done to people—what she knew she’d done but couldn’t remember—her selfishness kept resurfacing.

I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to lose Mission. She took in another breath, this one less shaky than the others. I’d give away the rest of my dignity—what little there is left of it, anyway—to keep them.

When she finally finished counting, she stood up again. Carth let her this time, simply watching her every move as she stood up. She made herself go slowly, almost slow enough to knock her off balance, so he wouldn’t get jumpy and assume she was going to attack him or something.

XXXXX

When Connan stood up again, Carth let her, watching her and making sure she wasn’t going to collapse on him. That intense display before nearly had him panicked, and he didn’t want to be subject to that again. Better to keep a close eye on her (which was good in the first place, since she was recovering her footing way too slowly and looked as if she were going to fall over any minute) and make sure she’s going to be okay, right?

Finally she opened her mouth to speak. She looked Carth in the eye. He really wished she hadn’t. Her bright green eyes, usually so vibrant and full of energy, were now dull and lethargic, yet edged with a hard look. She was ready for whatever they would throw at her.

Then her cheeks turned bright red and she looked to the ground instead.

“Please,” She pleaded quietly. The tone alone made Carth stop in his tracks. He’d never heard Connan sound so desperate before. “Please don’t tell Mission.”

Huh?

XXXXX

Jolee could feel Carth’s confusion even without the Force, but Jolee himself knew Connan enough to figure out what she meant.

It made him sick.

“It seems to me that if you don’t really remember anything about being Revan, then it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Mission was going to hate herself the moment she found out about her error. How long had Connan been tortured by that statement? She must have been convinced that everyone was against her from the start. Even after every single crewman swearing loyalty to her, as soon as her memories started resurfacing, she’d considered all their swearing and vowing to be null. As soon as that next memory hit, everyone became a potential enemy.

Jolee reached out for Connan at that moment, and she flinched backward, probably expecting him to strike her or try to pin her down—who knew what she really thought anymore?—and was instantly out of arms reach again. She stepped back a step as if she were about to disappear into Manaan again.

“We won’t.” He replied immediately, hoping she wouldn’t leave. She stopped and stared at him, obvious distrust in her eyes. “I promise, Connan.” She cocked an eyebrow. “You have my word.”

It seemed to appease her. She took one glance at Carth—only a fleeting glance; long enough to see that he was clearly not paying attention to her—and shrugged off her bag. She tossed it to Jolee and turned to leave.

Jolee didn’t stop to see her go. He caught her bag deftly, put it on, and left the alley himself. He didn’t look at anyone, didn’t see where he was going, he simply walked until he made it to the ship.

After reassuring Canderous, Juhani, and Mission that Connan was in fact as well as she could be, he retreated to the abandoned dorm, the room that they left solely to Connan.

Even this act of respect seemed like an act of betrayal, now. How could they have left her alone in a room by herself for so long? That kind of isolation—while meant as a peace offering of her privacy—now looked like abandonment and fear.

Jolee sat on an unused cot and shrugged off the backpack, letting it fall to the ground with a clunk. He put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to convince himself that he was too old for tears.

It wasn’t working.

XXXXX

When Connan disappeared, Carth was still standing in the alleyway, trying to sort through everything he was feeling. Even as Jolee left, carrying Connan’s bag (and yes, he’d seen that Connan had tossed it to Jolee, and not to Carth, but at the moment that seemed trivial) Carth remained, simply staring at where Connan used to stand, trying to understand what had just happened.

I must be the biggest jerk in the galaxy.

He knew it was true, too. Even when he’d realized he’d been wrong to corner Connan, he hadn’t done anything about it, assuming that she was still the same old Connan, who was simply angry at him for turning against her, and he couldn’t bring himself to apologize for such cruel comments. He hadn’t realized that—he never could have guessed that—

But she wasn’t the same old Connan. How could he honestly have expected her to stay the same, after being told she was responsible for the deaths of millions of Republic citizens and she simply couldn’t remember?

Connan was scared, Carth could tell. When she’d implored their secrecy, she made no move to protect her dignity. She instead laid it out in front of them, sounding as desperate as possible, practically begging them for a promise of their silence. And her promise was such a menial task it humbled Carth all the more.

“Please don’t tell Mission.”

Carth wasn’t dumb. It might have taken him a few moments to figure out what she’d meant by that, but once he’d placed it, he felt even more shame than before.

Connan thinks they’re all going to throw her to the wolves now.

Carth became angry. Why would she think that?

That in itself was a dumb question. She thought that because he’d told her that he wouldn’t let her betray the Republic no matter what, and she thought that her memories coming back counted as that betrayal.

And really, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted to be able to reach out and touch Connan—even accidentally—without her flinching back or thinking she’d done something wrong and had to defend herself.

He’d messed this up, he knew, and damn it if he wasn’t going to fix it.

XXXXX

Sorry for the delay, guys, both on this and ESB. My Granny’s been in the hospital lately. T.T;; I have the next chapter of ESB almost done, so that should go up tomorrow if I’m lucky.

Also, if I suddenly drop off the face of the planet, it’s because I’m grounded for failing Calculus. Not my fault, though. It’s a long story. Anyone out there who’s good at calculus? ((crikee crikee))

Thought so.

Disclaimer: Don’t own KotOR. Or Three Day’s Grace’s new album. I jack off of Limewire, thank you.

Amme Moto