Who: Jacen Solo and his ghost What: What kinds of ghosts does an ex Sith have in his past? Well... When: December 18th Where: The training room of the Hyperion. Rating: Mid for mentions of past torture Status: Complete unless someone wants to tag in.
It was probably dumbly naive of him, to assume that just because he had seen no ghosts the night before, that he would be spared from any visits. All he knew was with Boba Fett possibly in the city, that he would have to be alert so he had spent most of his time over the last day in the training room. Various meditations, exercises, keeping his mind sharp and his body prepared.
He had barely noticed when the last rays of sunlight vanished and the room was darkened, long shadows creeping out from weight machines. What he did notice, or at least sensed was the other presence in the room, his head turning sharply as his eyes tried to peer into the gloom.
"Hello, little Solo."
There was no mistaking that voice. Nor those sharp, bright eyes that appeared, a dark intelligence in them that had never faded in his memories. There was a sound like the faint rustling of feathers as she stepped out into the light.
"Vergere."
She tiled her head as she looked at him, and suddenly Jacen remembered sharply what it had been like, drifting in the white, hanging between life and death in the Embrace of Pain. The torture, the searing agony and always through it all, her. She who had saved him and damned him in equal measures. Looking at the Fosh now left Jacen feeling a conflicted mass of emotions. It had been one thing to joke about how Ruby resembled her, but seeing her again was harsher and more real.
"Let me guess," he tried for his usual sarcasm. "You're not real?"
"Is my presence here what defines my reality?" Vergere stared at him. "Or is it your perception of me that matters?"
"More philosophy?" Jacen shook his head. "Aren't we a little beyond that?"
"I told you once, little Solo, you will find no truth in me. But does that mean I am not real?"
Her voice hadn't changed, nor had her infuriating way of speaking in riddles, in questions that had no real answers. Jacen almost growled, his hand instinctively going for his lightsaber, though he didn't activate it, not yet. "Tell me why I shouldn't just run you through right now?"
"Because you are already dead."
Was that actually a straight reply from her? Jacen stopped with surprise, staring at her. A pure statement of fact, showing that she knew what had become of him after her own demise, or was she once more speaking in metaphor, something figurative to work out? Turning his head away, Jacen closed his eyes, trying to force away the memories of her, of the torture, the never ending pain that had set him on the path that led to his death, and the death of so many others. Save him to damn him, or had he damned himself?
By the time he opened his eyes again, he was alone once more in the training room, the Fosh vanished back into the darkness.