{"id":92,"date":"2009-03-17T09:50:06","date_gmt":"2009-03-17T13:50:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.auroraforce.org\/blog\/?p=92"},"modified":"2009-03-17T09:50:20","modified_gmt":"2009-03-17T13:50:20","slug":"vong-war-annals-confliction-3162009","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.auroraforce.org\/blog\/?p=92","title":{"rendered":"Vong War Annals – “Confliction” 3.16.2009"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Les lay sleeping in a hospital bed in a private room. Across the room Janet sat curled in a chair with a blanket around her, looking outside, though there was little to see; the sky was as blank and gray as the walls. It was sitting in the quiet, with the rain streaming down the window, that all those emotions that she had been keeping at bay conspired to overwhelm her, as well as the questions that troubled her\u2026was Jinx right? Even if you get him away from here today he’ll turn again.\u00a0 Les has tasted the power, he’s let it in Janet…you can’t change that.<\/em> Was he lost to them, for good? Repeatedly she defied that question. Les had the benefit of family and friends who loved him, no matter what he had become\u2026surely that counted for something. Wasn\u2019t love stronger than hate, light than darkness? There was hope, always hope. By the Raven<\/em>, there had to be. Where there\u2019s life, there\u2019s hope,<\/em> as her father had been fond of saying. Yet that scared, lost and alone feeling endured as she wondered what to do from here. How do we handle this? How do I<\/em> handle this?
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/em>She missed Mark terribly, wishing more than anything in the world to feel his arms around her, his breath in her hair as he spoke sincere assurances that everything would be okay. Even if it wasn\u2019t true.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Yes, she had found their son. No, things weren\u2019t exactly all right, but he was alive, and they would come back to them soon<\/em>. Through the relief he expressed, there was suspicion that there was much he wasn\u2019t being told, but mercifully he did not press the matter. She was thankful for the trust he put in her, for she couldn\u2019t bring herself to tell him anything more \u2013 not only because she didn\u2019t think he could handle it right now, but that she barely could herself.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It kept playing through in her mind, the scene she had come upon, of Jinx holding Kal\u2019or in his arms; the grief, the rising fury \u2013 and her son coming out from around those flames with lips curled back from gritted teeth, his eyes themselves like live coals of burning hatred \u2013 not her son at all; the terrible battle between Jinx and a Jedi fallen into darkness \u2013 yes, her son. The terrible realization of what was going on, of what was about to happen; trying to stop it, knowing that when it was all said and done, there would be no winners; the accusations, the pain. Then, finally, the thing she had to do.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jinx, forgive me<\/em>, she thought again for the umpteenth time. With his last breath he had told her that he understood, but it did little to alter the facts and the feelings that went along with them.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She had pulled the trigger.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Her son, whom she loved more than life itself, yet lived, lay recovering just a few feet from her\u2026.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 She had pulled the trigger.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Covering her mouth with her hand, tears welled unrestrained in her eyes.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Forgive me\u2026.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Fear. Anger. Hatred. Suffering<\/em>.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 They swirled around in his head like some dark and torturous soup, taking turns tormenting him. He wished they would leave him in peace. Maybe he was dead and it would go on forever.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Struggling to rise from whatever orbit of unconsciousness he was suspended in, he became aware of things around him. The sound of rain hitting a window, the rumble of thunder. Where was he? Had the images going through his head really happened?
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He felt weak, spent. Feebly he reached out with the Force, exploring the room. A familiar figure shared the space with him \u2013 no, two. Their presence was comforting, soothing. He tried to open his eyes.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In the dim light he sensed someone sitting by the window, obscured as a silhouette in a darkened room. Next to\u00a0that person stood the other, more prominent, as though standing beneath the room\u2019s only light. He felt his eyes on him, watching him as he lay there.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Jinx.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Closing his eyes tight, he shook his head, opened them again. He was still there, though fading, now gone altogether. A dream? He pressed his head back into the pillow. Conscious now, he went through the checklist. Toes, wiggling. Both feet. Good. Fingers, okay. He stopped. Fingers, right hand, check. Fingers, left hand\u2026.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lifting his left arm, he found it intact. A thrill shot up his spine and ricocheted through his chest \u2013 maybe it had<\/em> all been a dream, a vision, and he was back home on Atad, in his own bed. He flexed his hand, made a fist, examining it closely. It looked and felt natural, but somehow not.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The scar on his forearm \u2013 it wasn\u2019t there. The one from when he had fallen from a speederbike as a kid, and Dad had run \u2013 run<\/em>, in spite of the pain it caused him \u2013 over to him and scooped him up in his arms, carried him inside. Asya, crying hysterically at the sight of her brother all bloody and hurt, Mom comforting her while at the same time cleaning and dressing the wound.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All evidence of it was gone. Clean slate, empty canvas. His, a part of him, yet new and foreign.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 So it was all true. His master was dead. He reviewed the clash again, and wondered how it could have gotten so far out of control. He was just going to talk to him, show him what a mistake he had made in both underestimating him. Guess he did show him, after all.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 How powerful he had been, how good it had felt to let loose with all those feelings he\u2019d been denying himself for years. Anger: such a formidable tool, one disallowed in the Jedi arsenal. They were limiting themselves. Fools. Heck, he would\u2019ve defeated a Jedi more powerful than himself, had that Jedi not given in to his own anger following Kal\u2019or\u2019s death – that was the Mandalorian\u2019s fault, he shouldn\u2019t have interfered.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Murderer<\/em>.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The icy breath of hard truth sent a chill through him.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t set out to kill anyone. But had he? How much was justification for what he\u2019d done, and what was reality?
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 He had gone against everything he\u2019d been taught, and two people were dead; his mother put in a place of decision that never should have been.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But he had it coming \u2013 he hurt me so bad!<\/em>
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A sound of weeping from across the room. Les looked up. There was his mother, sitting in a chair by the window, rain pelting against it, trailing downwards in tiny rivulets. She was sobbing, alone, with no one to comfort her.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tears filled his eyes.
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What have I done?<\/em><\/p>\n

“:)
\nSkyy<\/p>\n

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