He grimaced as the disinfectant did it's work cleansing the cut on his forhead.
"I fought an entire war on my own, Kira," he said, with a hint of indignity. "It takes time."
She frowned a bit, looking at him in confusion. "Fought an entire war on your own?"
He shook his head. "Not your average war..." he muttered darkly. He was silent for a moment, staring at his own feet, his eyes slightly out of focus. After a moment or two, he snapped out of his reverie, and turned to her, smiling. "What about you? What happened to you after you... you know."
"Oh... well..." she started, then paused as if unsure how to continue. Turning around, she began to bustle about again, putting the cloth away and doing other such things.
"It's been...a blur, to say the least," she finally said. "At the start of the war... I just... felt like I needed to get away
. So I lost myself in the Outer Rim. I just...wandered for a few years before I found myself back here again."
He looked down at his feet again. "Kira... if I had... remembered... the Jedi Council, they screwed with my memories... If I had known you were out there... I would have looked for you."
She shook her head, her back to him. "Don't worry about it."
He pushed the covers off of him and rose from the bed, wincing as he moved up behind her. "Kira..." he said softly, gingerly placing a hand on her shoulder. "You know I would never have abandoned you. Not even after... after how things ended."
She turned to him, her eyes hard and tone mother-hen-ish. "You shouldn't be up." Kira said, her hand on his chest urging him back towards the bed.
He was weak, but strong enough to stop her from forcing him back to the bed. He tightened his grip on her shoulder slightly, bending down slightly to look her in the eye. "Kira, please. You have to believe me. I would never..."
She raised a gloved hand to his cheek, looking directly in his eyes. "Forget it, alright?" she said, "Now isn't the time. You need to rest."
"You summoned me, mi'Lord."
His voice echoed across the chamber that his Master inhabited, bouncing off the barren stone floor upon which he now knelt, trembling slighty for fear of being punished.
But the rasps that came from his master's mouth - at least, he assumed they came from a mouth, even though he had never seen that the Dark Lord even had one - did not sound angry. Quite the opposite. He was ecstatic.
"Master, the assassins have-"
The sharp hissing sound cut him off, and this time there was an edge of rage to them.
"Of course, mi'Lord. Your wish is my command... but it will take several hours for the message to reach them."
The Dark Lord continued, hissing and snapping in his odd language. His servant looked up, a dark smile stretching across his face. "Brilliance, Your Excellence," he said, his eyes scanning in vain for a sign of his Master. "The preparations shall be made. It shall be as you command."
He bowed as the Dark Lord dismissed him, and retreated from the room. As he stepped across the threshold, he could have sworn he heard a dark grinding sound that he had come to know as laughter.