Alison Sky-Danziger Fel stood at the window to her bedroom, staring out at the skylanes below. It had been some time since she had gotten back from Paris. Cracken had really laid into her about responsibility... as well as giving Wedge a stern talking to. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that one...
She had been temporarily reassigned to a desk job, pushing papers until her organic fingers were covered in paper cuts... then was sent back into a remedial discipline program for chronically problematic officers. Face had reassured her that the training was a breeze... all the members of Wraith Squadron had gone through it at one point or another... some a few times.
And during this training, the analysts had noted the added aggresiveness that had turned up in Special Agent Crawler, as she was now called. They did a few tests on her blood to see if perhaps the chemical agents she had been given by the mysterious healer she spoke of had had any side effects on her.
They hadn't. But something else showed up. Something that did NOT make Alison happy.
*I'm pregnant,* she thought to herself, looking down at where her hands folded over her stomach. At first, she was excited. After all, her company with Wes Janson was not a big secret, especially with the likes of Face Loran as a friend. But further tests revealed that Wes was not the father.
The child was from blood of a Terran. And there was only one Terran who had touched her like that.
Lightning crashed outside her window from a sudden storm that was created between the high buildings of Coruscant. Alison narrowed her eyes, her mind going back to another lightning storm... one that had raged over an abandoned warehouse out in the midst of Germany.
Thunder. The warrior child of Soontir Fel closed her eyes. Why had she ever listened to her uncle? Hell, why hadn't she just listened to her father and never left home?! She could have stayed there, grown up happily with her siblings and never known the pain she now felt. She would have her innocence, her happiness... not to mention two of her own hands.
Another lightning bolt, this one striking very close to the building. Suddenly, the lights went out, but still she stood by the window, staring out as the rain pelted against the window pane, and the thunder rolled.
In the back of her mind, she knew there was only one thing she could do.
Face Loran walked down the halls leading to Alison's apartment. He held a glowrod in one hand, a bag of groceries in the other. Wedge and Wes had both become worried over Alison's well being in the past few days. Ever since she had gone in for those blood tests, she had withdrawn from conversation with anyone.
But he would change that. He would make Alison come out of her shell, even if only to hit him over the head for a stupid remark. He owed her that much.
Finally he reached the door and knocked. "Alison, you there? It's Face."
Inside, the sound of thunder overpowered the soft sound of leather on metal.
Outside, Face sighed. "Come on Alison, I know something's wrong, but people are worried about you. You can't hide in there forever! Let me in and let's talk. Whatever's wrong, it can't be that bad!"
Inside, lightning reflected off a long shaft of metal sharpness.
"Fine, I'm going to come in whether you like it or not, Sky. You forget, I do know your keycodes!" Face opened the door panel and pushed in a few buttons. The door to Alison's room opened, working off a different power source from the lights, and Face swept the glowrod around the room. "Alison?" he called out in the darkness. He took a few steps inside. "Ali?"
Another bolt of lightning lit the room, revealing Alison at the window. In her hands was her sword, the tip pointed straight at her own abdomen. Before Face could say a thing, he watched in horror as she plunged the sword into her own body.
"ALISON!" Face shouted. He ran to the window, catching Alison as she fainted in shock from her own actions. He quickly pulled the sword from her stomach... no, it wasn't her stomach. It had pierced lower. He shook his head, deciding to ask questions later as he stripped off his shirt and pressed it hard against the bleeding wound. His other hand quickly grabbed his comlink and he turned it on. "I need medical assistence to the NRI housing facility, 23rd floor, room 269. It's an emergency. Open gash wound to pelvic area bleeding heavily."
After assurance that help was on the way, Face cradled Alison's head into his lap. "Oh gods, Ali... why did you do this?" he asked softly, looking down at her pained face. So much had changed about his friend in the last few months. Was she still the Alison that had charmed the hearts of everyone in the New Republic... or was this Crawler image she had created all that remained?