Shadows of a Non-Existent Past (Chapter 1)

"I'm sorry, sir, but there doesn't seem to be a 'Noah Signus' anywhere in our records."

"Well, try again," the young man practically demanded. "There has to be something. And check for a 'Lashaye Signus' while you're at it."

The young technician sighed with a voice that spoke of practical resignation. Raxle knew why the technician was weary, of course. This would be the third time he'd asked the technician to check. This was also the fourth Hall of Records that he'd checked on the second planet he'd investigated. The wait was agonizing, made no less painful by the fact that Raxle knew what the outcome would be.

Another sigh.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but there's no record of either 'Noah' or 'Lashaye' anywhere. Might I recommend the Hall of Records on Coruscant? Their records are much more thorough and you're more likely to find the help that you need in finding these people."

It was a logical answer. Perhaps the most efficient suggestion that anyone had given him. It was the only real answer that could provide definitive leads towards wht he was looking for. It was also the only answer that Raxle did not want. The exact kind of suggestion that Raxle had been avoiding for months. Sometimes Raxle wasn't sure why he continued the search. His mind knew it was impossible to find the answer that he wanted. That never stopped Raxle from hoping. It was all he had in this matter.

"Thank you," he managed to say before turning around for the exit.

It was a clear, cloudless day on Alderaan. Raxle walked, somewhat draggingly, to the speeder and sat in the driver's seat. For a long time, he simply sat there, feeling numb. There was no one. Besides Carth, Bastila, and the others, there was no one to celebrate his victory with. He softly reminded himself (for he had a great tendency to talk to himself whilst alone) that the others were like his family. He had gained their trust as they had gained his. They had all been through life threatening situations together. Raxle had been, with each of his friends, in a situation where complete trust made the difference between life and death.

Mission's quick trigger finger had rescued him on Taris when a pack of rakghouls snuck up on Raxle, unnoticed.

Zaalbar saved Raxle when Chuundar's sheer power nearly cost him his life.

Jolee and Juhani had placed themselves in a dangerous position when they accompanied Raxle in the Rakatan Temple that was swarming with Sith and Dark Jedi.

Canderous would willing sacrifice himself for glory if the opportunity ever arose. And while Raxle disagreed with him on many things, there was a mutual sense of unwavering respect and loyalty that extended beyond who Raxle had been before. Canderous had come to respect who Raxle was as well.

The droids had even been key throughout the journey that had reached it's own pinnacle two years before. 

And Bastila....  

At times, Raxle often wondered if he had done enough to try to save Bastila. Other times, he knew that he had exhausted every option available to him. He had destroyed her lightsaber. Raxle had also injured one of her legs, hoping to get her to surrender, but Bastila had been filled with such hatred. The pride and indomitable spirit that Raxle had loved about had been twisted by Malak. She had done everything within her tremendous power to kill him. His words did not reach her. Even his declaration of love had not been enough to calm her down. Instead, she hurled hatred towards him, verbally and in the form of Force Lightning. Raxle had not meant to direct it back at her, but the fate of the galaxy hung in the balance and it was either her or him.

Raxle would not subject the galaxy to Malak's dominion, even if it came at the cost of the woman he loved. 

Supressing the emotion of the moment, searching for a temporary scam of inner peace, Raxle started the speeder and began the drive back to his apartment. He didn't remember walking there. Raxle contemplated the oxymoron of being overwhelmed by nothing. Feeling absurdly empty on the inside took a toll on him. His eyes, gazing at the floor caught the single strand of brown hair on the floor in front of the entrance to his apartment. It was hers. During a rare private moment on the Ebon Hawk, she had given it to him. He now kept it near his door at all times. If the door had been opened while he wasn't home, the hair would be on the floor, like it was now. That meant someone had been in his home.

Raxle focused on the life force he felt inside and instantly recognized the aura. That was all it took. The tears instantly started flowing as he opened the door. He closed the door and saw his brother in arms waiting, drink in hand. The moment the man saw the state Raxle was in, however, he put the drinks down and walked over to him. Raxle walked slightly faster and into the embrace that Carth Onasi made for him. As soon as Carth hugged him back, Raxle began sobbing. 

Raxle continued to cry for a short time before pulling himself together and breaking the hug. Carth gave him an understanding smirk before handing him one of the drinks on the table. With a small chuckle, Raxle gulped the entire drink in one swift movement, savoring the initial sweet taste before embracing the burn as he swallowed.

"Another," Raxle said, handing the glass back to Carth. "And don't be so stingy with the amount this time."

 As Carth walked off with the glasses, Raxle took a moment to inhale deeply, yet again and lean back against the lounge. He was happy that Carth was here. Raxle was not happy that Carth saw him like this but he was happy that Carth was there. Carth took the seat on the lounge opposite Raxle and slid the glass across the table. The glass was still cold and the ice hadn't melted quite yet. 

Raxle grabbed the glass, the condensation on the outside forcing him to tighten his grasp ever so slightly. He swirled the glass around, feeling slightly pretentious before deciding to savor the drink this time around and go for a small sip. The emptiness engulfed his mind again and he found himself somewhat wishing that Carth wasn't there. Rather to sulk alone and get wasted than face the emotions while they were still raw and be forced to talk about them with a friend who knew him better than he knew himself. Carth finally initiated the conversation.

"So you gonna spit out what happened or are we going to get wasted," he asked.

Raxle laughed "Is there any way we can do both?"

"We'll make a game of it," Carth announced, happily. "I ask a question. Every time you answer and lie, you drink. Every truthful answer, I drink."

"Ugh," Raxle sighed. "You know I can't lie to you... and since when did you decide to pry in on my personal life?"

The question had come out a bit more defensively than Raxle had meant for it to be. He remembered when he had asked so many questions about Carth. Initially they had just been friendly questions that Raxle felt particularly obligated to ask, from one soldier to another. As the conversations went deeper and deeper into the past, the conversations no longer became surface questions but delved deep into the complexities of what happens when a group of people are sent on a hopeless mission and have to rely on nothing but each other. They became issues of trust, sincerity and even revenge. Raxle still remembered yelling at Carth during one particularly violent argument that nearly became violent. Carth was taking his trust issues out on the entire group, particularly Raxle.

"It's my turn, you old son of a gun," Carth chuckled, taking a healthy swig of his drink. "Don't think I've forgotten how you pried all my information out of me."

"Say waht you want," Raxle returned. "But if you hadn't been on the rag the entire trip, we all probably would've done just as well without your dramatics."

Carth raised his glass. "Touche." He took another sip and cleared his throat. "Alright, so... anything?" Carth asked.

"They're dead," Raxle answered a little too quickly. "Killed according to Jedi records. The Jedi Council did their homework."

The following silence was amusing. Carth's mildly amused look never left his face and it was all he could do to keep from bursting out laughing. "Drink up soldier," Carth laughed. "There's no way you wailed like a newborn Wookie if the news was that simple."

Raxle joined in the laughter and took a good gulp of his drink. There was the burn no after sting in his throat. Good. It would make it easier to talk.

"They didn't find anything," confessed Raxle. "Just like on Dantooine. It's as if they never existed."

Raxle paused.

"Well, actually, that's EXACTLY what it is. They NEVER existed.  Noah and Lashaye Signus never existed and never gave birth to Raxle Signus because, until I was captured and reprogrammed, Raxle Signus didn't exist!" Raxle slammed a fist on the table. Carth fulfilled his end of the game as he took a sip of the drink. The silence once again drifted between the two men. Carth waited for his friend to continue. "At times," Raxle sighed. "I wonder if the Jedi Council completely understood what they were subjecting me to when they reprogrammed me with this sham of an identity."

"You and Bastila said that the Jedi Council did what they thought was best at the time," Carth countered. "It was the-"

"It was cruel!" Raxle cut across. "To give me a past that is nothing but...the - the work of their collective imagination. I have all these memories that, it turns out, never happened!"

Carth took another drink.

"And how does that make you feel about the destruction of the Academy?" Carth asked cautiously. Raxle simply raised his head, looking at Carth. Carth was caught off guard and hoped that the red gleam he saw was a trick of the light.