From Scrap to Bones - Predatory Volition

[Echohawk]

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Give And Take

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Hours upon hours, this new hobby was starting to prove something of a breath of light and life. The countless faces of people she’d met from all walks of life attempted to be envisioned from memory in simple acrylics. Sith, Jedi, Mandalorian, Czerka, Republic, criminals, scoundrels… all so many pieces of the same grand puzzle. The color of the background always reflected something she saw in them, though there would be a doubt anyone would ever witness these armature creations. The idea for this therapy came from an unlikely place and as ever it seemed the more curious the origin the more effective it was in practice.

Yet there was one visage she refused to paint, instead going through the mental list time and again to touch up on those that weren’t quite right.

Between this and the study of Miralian Fatereader writings she was lost in a sea of her own discovery, yearning perpetually to unveil a new track of detail or discovery not yet beheld. There was a deepening appreciation for the interconnectivity of it all. Even going so far as to write down the Mandalorian actions upon physical scrolls for her keeping. Experiences and cultures were becoming intoxicating methods to expand her understanding and deepen the connections she was coming across, there was simply so much more to take in.

---

Cloaked figures and veiled intentions still roamed, she knew the game had not let up at all. Politics would still rage as an undercurrent even in the midst of survival and war, it just seemed to be natural to try and control what you could in the midst of peril and chaos. The rot she’d known before was starting to become a growing scent that she couldn’t ignore, as it had already taken much from her.

Worse still… it was everywhere.

The only comfort she could truly find solace in was the ally she’d witnessed, the one walking with her all this time. Even though it was only now she finally had the means to stop, listen, and behold. How else could she remain adrift in an ocean where she couldn’t swim, watching every hungry eye be swept under and devoured in the living abyss. She never did anything but catch the blame, all she could do was watch and now she could understand and appreciate it all the more. All she had to keep doing was not go under.

Slipping away between lessons, meetings, all such things she had her engineering and programming equipment in a pack. Giving herself another quiet reprieve as a certain war droid needed her attention, though it never felt like work or a chore anymore. This was a joy.

Each day a gift, and her being began to revel with each new dawn. Though she didn’t forget the one who’d given it to her, not a day went by that she’d not think of him.
"Just need to stay confident. You’re right."

[Echohawk]

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Break Free

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Compassion came easy to her for others, but never for herself. Always there was the fear of success rather than failure, it was the battering of the universe she thought, a tempering to refine mind and body. The cruelty to herself was justified for so long, humility to avoid the fate that befell those before. The grounds of the temple were small compared to the vast galaxy, yet within it carried the hearts and minds of so many, each a reality and vastness all unto their own. She stood in formation alongside her Jedi Master, stoic and patient in his continued instruction and revelations he sought to infuse in her.

From the outside it might’ve once appeared abusive, she wouldn’t even be aware of the restrictions now put in place, but the blows never came. Acceptance had settled in, relief and release as well. How in mere words could one express the all-encompassing notion and power of the Force, yet here they divulged such, conduits of that which was more than every life combined moving unseen around them with every breath that passed. Restriction was a good discipline to maintain, but such could be eased and choice returned. Glancing backward in her own past she recounted a notion from her training that had carried her this far.
“The Force shall free me…” A bemused sound to follow, her own voice rang out through the evening air.

How ironic that one held the notion that it was to come, and not already there. Always. Right from the beginning to last until the end.

Falling with a silent crash, the heaviest chain of them all fell limply unbeknownst to anyone witnessing now or after. In times before she might have teased about being a beast of war and now that beast was well and truly free. Though its first instinct was not to lunge, not to roar in defiance, but simply to move forward in a way that had been long prevented by the binds. As it seemed the Force recognized, the days to follow would prove a rather pointed lesson that none of her mentors would dictate or order…

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As one could finally breathe again, being given thanks for a deed that should remain buried and gone, Kathea would be called another name symbolic of kinship and efforts recognized. Another identity, still the same person in the end but there was no need to shirk it or deny it as she’d done before. Bowing her head with respect it was time to now retreat and recover, she would not be collecting on the debt incurred here anytime soon.

Decompressing from actions now taken, she stood apart for a time alone staring into another world’s horizon within the grasp of a temporary sanctuary. She’d thought perhaps some degree of remorse might be realized, but it never came and as such a calm center instead persisted, natural rather than sought. The voice within considered all that had transpired, no aura to it. She heard herself speak within, clarity of purpose, shameless and without hesitation.

Valerius’ lost something considerable that day, one of his greatest weapons. Perhaps he knew, perhaps he is realizing.

Either way he needs to remember who his true foe is, not allow for distractions and to drag other elements into this war. You have enough enemies, and so it’s on me to remind you not to allow for old grudges to get in your own way. We have a war to win.

A nod to herself, it was time to turn in. That was a long night, and a test the Force itself had placed before her. While she had no reinforcement to the notion, she wanted to believe she’d passed this test and for the first time she accepted it as truth. She had broken free.

[Echohawk]

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Fresh Wounds

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One victory, but such a cost to follow after. She couldn’t stand it.
That which she’d helped create, which she’d helped foster and forge now descending into darkness and wanton slaughter. This was not the vision they had wanted. What made any of them different from that which they swore to fight. Her fist would find more than one durasteel wall interior to impact on, the frustration had to be let out in private. She was not the perfect Jedi, and for a moment she was done trying to be.

With each life taken, knowing who they were was a carving in her psyche. The Revanites had taken lives that any Jedi would find wholly abhorrent. And now the hunt for them continued. The Republic yielding to them would’ve been everything her former self would’ve wanted, but now it was the antithesis. Weary gazes beneath helmets were looking to her, and she couldn’t let them look on in silence. She had to do something…

With all the spirit she could muster, words were lifted to those who had lost and become despondent. A familiar call to uplift the weakened and wounded of body and mind. This hope that continued to beat had dimmed with ache, but still it endured. Now to foster it in others, perhaps to yet still keep it alive that much more.

The Force would never react, but her soul would languish. Carrying now the wounds left raw and open. Overwhelmed, outmatched, she knew unto her very core she could never take this all on. Losing track of the hours that passed, sleepless, ill, as the stress manifested in her physical being. Even when there was enough time to pry herself out of the hold of the ship there would have to bea mask in place, something to conceal this visceral state. She’d have to carry the ache with her now, trudging, unyielding, and suffering.

Her master who protected her now having his own burden to bear. She was adrift, but not alone. She knew not what atonement meant anymore save for the building of trust and confidence in her new resolution to be in the Order. But by the Force this feeling.

As ever it was only in those moments of hearing and assisting another under the verdant Viscaran trees that sanity could be reclaimed. They were after all fish trapped in small ponds, enduring until the memory of the rising sea tide would return…
"The time will come."

[Echohawk]

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Don’t give in.

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Valley of the Saints Ambiance

Seated at the helm of the Starlight’s Spear she surveyed the new Throne’s full array of weaponry. While not a grand capital ship there was a certain edge and violent intention she had ensured was the purpose of this second vessel. Valerius’ Ascension still remained a home and sanctuary, purposeful in its own way. The Spear had no personal effects so the feeling was a bit hollow and sterile, not that the pilot minded overmuch. Settling into a trajectory of orbital space around Dathomir her calibrated hunting eye opened to turn unto the next foe.

---

Eyes falling to rest between conversations, none would know how her thoughts strayed to Jerr no doubt perched somewhere in his own silent duties. Whenever she could try to excavate pieces to better understand the man the more she seemed perplexed on the decisions made. But Jedi were not perfect beings, they were never meant to be.
However, unlike him she didn’t wish to simply relinquish that which she felt, the ache of witnessing all the horrors and suffering now. One might assume it was to drift back into her old ways, to feast upon it to draw strength, but thus far it only drained and tested her to the point of lethargy and breaking. Yet she would not yield it.

"You know the way forward, it’s always been there. They gave you a choice, and you have chosen."

While he was ready to relinquish his position with ease, she could not find it in her to release her loyalty. Even with his blessing to take a new master there was still a rift between herself and the other Jedi that wasn’t mending, or at least it wasn’t in any kind of hurry to do so. It hurt to feel so exposed, but she wanted to bleed this way, to let her body feel the ache and woe. This feeling wasn’t intoxicating at all as it once could have been, yet she would not bow to it either.
There was no race to become a Knight, what she would learn would come when it was meant to. His restriction felt more like a continuation of the last lesson he gave, to slow down. The pain now gave clarity as to why she couldn’t give it up. If her will could not be broken by this then she would survive the next, yes the bleeding soul was a draining process but that she felt it meant she was indeed still alive. Others of a more orthodox upbringing would release such things entirely, but in her mind this was aversion, avoidance, suppression. It would not do.

So much of what they were attempting to teach felt incomplete without her prior experience, enough so to cause a slight worry to creep at the edges of her mind. She wasn’t perfect, but then again no Jedi might ever be. Everything now was riding on the will and whim of others, no matter how narrow minded or sheltered their notions might be. Still, as long as she was alive she discarded such concerns far more easily. The time for such thoughts would pass as she settled once more into a stillness of meditation, maintaining her daily routines as if her master were still there watching.

Her efforts again turned to the war, to bolster those worst hit by the latest aggression from the Sith. Even though without a master to shelter under, there was far too much to do. In the worst moments there were those who still believed in her, and those she maintained belief in. Hope, comradery, love.
It was enough to keep going.

Elsewhere, unknown to her, the screams of her prior suffering had played out. One of her darkest times on recording to entertain the hearts of the most twisted. It would be a wonder if she’d be resilient enough to face the confrontations that were coming…

[Echohawk]

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Start Looking

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Dig - Incubus

Checking over what material she could, there was a listless pace to the masterless Jedi. The grounds around the temple, the woods, the Rest were all passing territories in her peripheral vision as her head remained down in some hopes and attempt to uncover something new on her datapad. Even with the recent capture by bounty hunters and the ache of her hand still throbbing there was this insatiable need when it came to finding the next lead. Perhaps a mission, a missive, anything she could next to help. Patient but not passive, those were her own words. Better still it managed to kill the time between fights, between meets, between sessions of meditation. Yet eventually her pace would stop to something unheard…

---

Palming the kyber crystal there would be a continued fixation, uncertainty to accompany the adoration that flowed. It had been some time since the last exchange of the prior keeper. Time and again she’d go over how their next encounter would be, looking up as if to picture the familiar black robes once more. Would he hold hate in his eyes, mourning, suffering or would he be happy to see her. Steeling herself just for the moment that it would arrive, she couldn’t do more than react when it would come, her hope would ever remain clawing. But she could not show him anything else until she was certain how he’d receive it, she’d let him set the tone of that transaction.

Straying further she imagined the sound of his steps along with her, how it would look if he were to carelessly allow himself a moment’s respite in the grass to look skyward, or even the small sound he used to utter upon her arrival. Such details kept the defiant Lord within the front of her memories.

Her thoughts broke away with the crack, the sound of a wooden formed sword striking. A sound to correct her, ending the session within her own mind.

A new little voice gently tugged on a familiar string of words, a string of thoughts to her motivation.

"You loved him didn’t you?"

Turning, she’d blink away the moisture in her eyes. Every day it was that familiar pang of want, that continued denial. So much history and emotion wrapped up in a singular word, it could not do it justice whatever this was.

The company around her had shifted as she drew closer to the clan of Mandalorians, ironic that the foe the Revanites attempted to quash were now the sanctuary she took refuge in. Each day a step, ascending in regard and understanding. Those who insisted she need to let go she decidedly ignored, building instead further, navigating this path of the forsaken. Whatever material needs, whatever credits, whatever effort she could give to others it was theirs to now take. It would never pay back what had been given unto her.

Some faces coming, others going, from Initiates to Masters… she felt smaller. But such things need not matter so long as her strides continue, the path ongoing. No matter what time of day, what hour of need she could reach down to her reminder. Now back to waiting for the next task, yearning still to make an impact, to be heard.
To do just one thing right.

[Echohawk]

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Even in the dark.

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Ambient accompanying music - House of the Dragon, The Black Council / Dragon Riding

There are times you find yourself actively walking towards the trouble. Soldiers do so at the command of their officers, explorers plunge into the dangers of the unknown, and when she strode up that ramp after being told it was a place where no good Jedi would go… well how could she say no?

Encountering her foe once more in the flesh was not on the agenda that day, but few things likely were given how placidly it had started. Malak’s overbearing presence that would crush her with a whim were she alone, though at least this time she was not. The sounds of plasma cutting the air, there would soon be the scent of cauterized blood and flesh to follow.

Of all the sabers, all the colors she’d witness, her eyes would go white that day. The saber cutting across her visage to try and stop her and after all her experiences, of all people, to be cut by it was a Jedi Master. Yet still, there were orders to follow. This man who had looked upon her with suspicion was so ready to leave this life and what was to come after behind.
And all she could think was, ’Oh no you don’t. If I have to live through this, so do you.'

---

Hearing the words of fury, of judgement spiraling around her she felt a familiar flow of animosity. It was the same wariness, condemnation, and weight of divide that had encircled her before. While the feeling no longer flowed as often or as harshly towards her she had to look through the winds to see the man on his knees now beside her, before her. They were right to be disappointed, but this went far further. Finally her opportunity had come and with a tender respectful permission, she approached.

"Who am I to judge?"

When she looked upon him for what might be the last time, she didn’t say goodbye. She had no need to say farewell to one she’d meet again in the Force. Closure was a new feeling for her, too often the corpses of the fallen were all that greeted her, the memories the only lessons and words to be passed on. This time she’d finally get the chance to speak her heart, the words she’d wished she could’ve told herself when their places were reversed. He that spoke of his hope in her, she intended to grant back, and if nothing else she did try…

"Remember that which you kept. That which brought you out of that misery, that certain end."

As their words ended, the guards leading the former master back inside, by the Force she couldn’t be more grateful, more honored. At her side the kyber was starting to warm without her touch or urging, she couldn’t help but notice and draw it out seeing the life starting to return to it. Her eyes widening, freshly damp from having clawed life back. It was wakening to her. The voice once so fleeting and small gently pulsed along with her own heart.

"They understand. And you have accepted. One can always find the light, they need only look for it." Within her form emerged a sublime joy, overcoming prior divides of time and perspective, she brought it up in her palms up to her heart. Anyone watching from outside would see only her silent, as were such moments in the Force.

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The Force Theme

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"I see a real Jedi… someone who is not restrained by fear anymore. One who understands."

Something sent out ahead of her, she would have to wait and face whatever it might be. Just what had the departing Master done?

[Echohawk]

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New Strength

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Water Tribe Trance

Managing the calibrations for the ISS Thorn’s rail gun emplacements there was a new degree of stress to add to her growing collection. The local orbit was filled with debris, hatred, and schemes, yet all she could contemplate in the haze of it all was ensuring statistically that shots were landing and the bulwark of the attackers was weakening.

When adjustments were made to take a broadside hit for the Bastion from Meteor’s main canon, apart from the frantic calls of the pilots and engineers to adjust and brace, there was that harrowing moment when the view screen aligned with the barrel. And yet if this was the last sight she were to see, it would’ve all been worth it. Calm, clear minded, ready…

With doubt stilled the kyber had little reason to speak in her idle thoughts as she carried herself. Instead the Master’s softer tone cut in between her duties. Contemplative, a far different kind of training.
"You don’t like being alone, do you Kathea?"
Something had given way in him enough now that she noticed it, but couldn’t say more.

The shot fired, the battle continued. Far more damage to sustain that day. A sting of betrayal ignited her veins, but she could not permit herself to act on it and give in. Still the fire was there, recalling the bridge suddenly shattered, the aligning weapon that was meant to be turned on them. Always a good reminder, her thoughts lingered on Valerius before the gentle pulse of warmth at her side brought her back to the moment. Training would continue.

Two days later…
Returning to the temple in some haste, her footfalls would splash the puddles of still water that collected between the frequent Viscaran rains. She recalled how her Master and she had always been so dejected to see these proud animals laid low for the sake of the hunts, and perhaps one day soon it would still perish. Just not today. While her chest was straining to catch up with the spirited and swift return, she’d find him as she so often did meditating quietly as if nothing had ever changed.

As the container of mucus was brought in and handed over to a researcher and archivist, she could see the widening of eyes as the labeling was inspected and compared with the consistency of the contents.

• Fauna: Dathomiri Chirodactyl •
• Physical Status: Healthy, Alive, Male •
• Estimated Age: Elder; Decades to Centuries •
• Specimen Collected: Nasal Mucus •
• Some dust and other contaminants may be within the sample. •

Contesting cyclopian natives in territory. Locational data - Impassable mountain region
-66.22° N; -124.71° W

"How in the Force did you…?"
With a little residual moisture she’d not yet cleared from her cheek that further accented the lightsaber burn across her face there was only a tired token smile. Explaining the brisk sneeze she’d endured while the animal examined her, there was both a smile and slightly paling complextion at the recounting. As she gave the story she stood taller in that moment, aligned in more ways than physical, reality with her desire.

Once she was done submitting the material, there was little time to even be celebrated or savor the day. There was matters to discuss with a Mandalorian. One last task before she’d go and tend to herself, you couldn’t be everywhere at once you know?

[Echohawk]

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War Song

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Imagine Dragons - Bones

Never in all her days did she imagine being in a foot race with a Mandalorian. There were times being smaller wasn’t really an advantage, and she wasn’t about to reach into the Force to cheat and catch up. Alarms blaring, carbon scoring and scorch marks littering the way, the remains of droids and the fallen providing little deterrence. The bridge would be taken with ease at last. She had lost, and yet all she could do was raise her arms in salute, in triumph.

Piece by piece, bite by bite every victory would be the momentum needed. She wasn’t afraid to claw at every chance that she was allowed. And while she didn’t share quite the wanton lust for war and death, she didn’t carry the mournful reserve of each life lost upon her shoulders. It had to be done.

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Rogue elements, the tearing of bodies in the midst of the hunt. New and returning foes, there was almost an amusement to how much she’d changed and how little some things ever did. Some traps would need to be planned and set, hopefully her experience would help end some of these troubles that much more quickly. To some this would be a trial they needed to experience, it certainly had helped pave her own path…

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Just as many times in passing, she found herself at the back of the temple. Alone, or at least alone enough to savor some tea she’d bring out to enjoy under the shelter of the cascading trees. A decent vantage point to the curious shrine that was hosted out along the stark western cliff’s edge. There was a quiet pang of longing to have some quirky gonk droid catch her off guard, that usual frost that entered her veins in sheer anxiety at the approach of one of the Masters. She’d been left alone at least, appreciating that, but also not denying missing Gael’s antics now.

To anyone else she would be seated alone, but within her mind, within the Force there was another robed figure in unseen emerald sharing the time with her. A small space she created for herself to simply think and remain aware. Noble hope felt a little different now, not tainted but aged in a refining way. Mirroring the action though only in spirit, it was the reflection that helped her open up, he’d fill the space she wished another would.

"They still see no value in it, so few have the insight to reconcile that there can be pieces of light in the dark. It’s all so monochromatic, so binary, and unyielding."
The mug felt rather comfortable in her fingers as the breeze brought in cooled lakefront air over the cliff. The trees rustled gently, leaves falling from time to time. It was a peaceful moment, an idyllic scene for the anguish that was gnawing away inside.

"They will never forgive you, they will never see anything else. So few will ever believe, but that’s not something you took from them… they chose that themselves."

There was a pinch in her expression as she heard it, these were less new revelations but her own mind speaking truths she had endeavored to avoid or suppress. Tolerated, kind, wise, didn’t matter much when the perception remained unchanged. The emerald shape gently rising to come sit with her, behind her and holding her. Silently she wished the Force would make it someone real, someone she knew, but it would only ever be her.

They wanted to try and draw her away with a new promise of power and belonging, her head could only shake. She would wait until his fate was decided, this she resolved, this she chose and decided. Gael was starting to understand, but Jerr had far more readily known. Anything short of it would be regression, would be a deviation, would be compromise. There were so many others who yearned to ascend, they’d have to force her if they wanted something else. Wouldn’t be the first time now, and she knew the damage it would cause would be nigh absolute.

At least there was quiet, and tea. Forgetting the moisture that ran down one of her cheeks. Things had slowed, there was some agony in being patient even without any promise of the outcome, but she wouldn’t yield. She’d not be lost in this unsustainable cycle, she’d witnessed how those who give in and feel compelled are only gradually pressed and eroded. Surviving the Sith, now surviving the Jedi, at least for now.

A Sith who was trained to hunt Sith. She knew was how to fight, focus, hunt.

But one must remember, and if need be learn, to live.

The cracks were showing again, she’d need to mind that.

[Echohawk]

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Threads of Fate

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Traveling to new worlds, held in the claws of a divisive and determined corporate entity, there was something hunting them all. A presence flitting about Sorix that evaded her vision, a shade of presence that remained an indistinct black smoke. An ache of death growing they could only react as the assailants arrived. A dead Knight, dead people, walking just as her own old master once provoked them to. Mercifully she was long gone, but it was clear there was a new threat revealing itself.

Ensuring they were not all swarmed in the trap she held the line, extending out to cull the threats as they overtook elements that were spreading out too far. Within mere strokes the blows that would normally slip across the wrist or armor became cutting swipes to let the bodies fall inert again. Once after helping the fallen avoid a grizzly end she heard the sound of something crunch beside her, and even moments after when she looked up from the flat of her back when going toe to claw with the unliving wookie, there was Jerr watching over her once again.

Wounds sustained, but everyone accounted for it was enough of a success. Leaving with more questions than answers, they did the best they could…

---

Settling into a more all or nothing existence she was still waiting for judgement to pass, though these times were not to be wasted. People were coming to her once again of their own volition, it felt both endearing and healing in a different way. Having been brought back around to the memory of elements of her past where she guided others training there were still things she could pass on and impart. The purpose gave her a calm, though for today she spared a quiet retreat to a separate room on the Ascension. Setting out some panels, this was no canvas for a picture but words instead.

Having studied with the Fatereader and gone over his own writings time and again there came a growing compulsion in the moments between missions to find some way to contribute. Though she herself was not of the faith, not of the race, yet again coming from a perspective as an unworthy outsider. Thoughts drifting, it was less a thought to write the words as she let instinct flow, only to gently trim and tighten the writing after. It was slower than one might expect, a process of creation and refinement. But putting it down in a physical ink with a brush gave it a muscle memory and effort to combine with contemplation. She could certainly see the appeal.

Grant me the memories of every life that came before me and I shall offer one back. Take from me the choice of a single moment and I shall steal uncountable futures.

Without mine eyes, Fate could not see. For to see Fate is not to look at it, but to be blind to it.

A spectrum, at each end a cage.
Some run from the bars, others claw them in defiance, others still simply sit and wait.
Fate cannot be contained. Fate is all.

After a time the words would stop flowing, just as any passing rainstorm must end to yield back into sunlight. A breath escapes her as she settles and leans back a bit in her meditative posture, setting the brush down gently. When she moved she could sense that she was not sitting alone in that very moment, a tender glowing echo that just barely overshadowed her own form.

Neither guiding the other, her own heart and that of Noble Hope beat as one. Another day passes, another day spent not merely waiting. The scent of a prepared meal filling the air, a pleasant thought filling her mind, a smile broke her expression in moments as these. Even if there were always those she missed and longed for.

[Echohawk]

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No love like a Bes’uliik.

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Mandalorian / Force Theme

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It traumatized your master at Dxun. One of the few things you ever noticed that could crack his serenity. A droid, an AI with an inclination for hunting and fighting on the ground, in the air, in orbit.

And now here you are, astride the iron beast…

Thundering steps echo down a Republic Hammerhead Cruiser, but instead of being its foe it comes as reinforcement, a harrowing ally. A flash of crimson, power flickering in halls that have temperamental power in the midst of the fray. The haunted shadow of the shockwave rods at the front of the Basilisk catch the emergency lights. Two hundred pirates, gone. Attention turns towards another plagued vessel. The sirens blare a warning of imminent impact as two hulls head towards a collision course.

There is no chaos, there is harmony.

---

The intel was correct, whether by coincidence or inevitability. The cypher’s words rang true, the gaze of Valerius however distant had not gone from her. With her form safe and hidden she stilled her shattered nerves with the spotchka on tap. Strong stuff, good brew.

The armored gauntlets settled atop the bar inside of the fort. Deeper breaths now, trying to hold still, trying to keep things from spinning in her own head. She moved faster than she realized, all in the nick of time. For the moment all the could was breathe.

"Force preserve me…"

[Echohawk]

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Critical Hit

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Foo Fighters - The Pretender

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Some days could almost be marked by the mournful cries of the war beast. Not a literal sound, not an animal anyone ever knew or saw with fur or scale. But contained within Kathea was this personified warrior struggling within the confines of her own flesh. How could one who had fought, seen so much not be affected?

She never liked the council chambers, as ever it remained a place of tension. Today was no different, the gauntlet was still hers to run. The doors would pry open as they were all faced with the likeness of Gael in stolen armor. Even as she stood further in the back, shots were being fired without a weapon drawn to inflict such blows, their piercing touch was easily felt.

"Come here girl."

"You know what they’re going to do to Valerius…"

A set of jaws and claws not in her own head alone anymore, but before her. When the others looked upon Gael, she was looking upon her old mental companion.

Contempt.

The pulse reached her ears, only hearing it as the pressure diffused when the darkness hid him. Reminded of the wounds she carried. Just out of sight since her initiation the blood had just continually flowed endlessly leaving trails of pain around the grounds she walked, quietly…

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“That’s the thing about anger, it is many things, but it’s also honest.” Something she’d told her learners, but it was always a wonder if they understood it. Where they had walked and moved in ease and harmony before, now the emerald figure stood beside her once again. The trepidation had pushed them a bit further apart, still together, but something amiss. Walking in that glow he’d regard her as she paced along with their steps silently matched.

After Malak, the battles in space, a rogue Sith and their devotees hunting, the Republic comes to their grounds to call for her surrender, after Gael’s challenge in the council chambers…

Before she could’ve simply stopped, come to rest, recovered. But the words were starting to falter, the reassurance that was meant to reinforce was failing.

‘You are not alone’ they said.

While her physical body stood, the great sound of a massive titanic body limply slumping to the earth was just out of sight. The war beast feeling a slow ache now, breathing with a pained laboring exhale, weary eyes looking out as they surrendered to fatigue for a time. The emerald figure looking down as well, a hand reaching out to console that which was being left untended within.

For the first time, her hope was breaking.

[Echohawk]

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The way forward.

TSFH - Flight of the Silverbird

---

Waiting really should’ve been the hardest part. Watching others advance and move while they assume you’re standing still. How can anyone do so much by doing so little. Yet she knew there was a time for dedicated strength, action, a stroke or swipe to bring a moment to pass.

These were the moments she’d wait for the grounds to be largely clear, apart from the guardians who kept their own vigil. In the open spaces, in the quiet behind the temple between the well rooted trees her blade would come to bear. Though there was no foe there was a means to cleanse with movement, tens upon tens of thousands of strikes just so that the one that needed to be would land as it needed to. A breeze whirling in the movement, a circle of cleared out fallen leaves that showed her domain of control however fleeting it might be. The style of Makashi had been treasured since her first master had shown her, an instant love of precision as opposed to the open stroke, the wider violence. Whether or not anyone accidentally noticed or stumbled upon such moments mattered not to her, let them observe, let them watch and see.

The art was a way of the blade, a call for a swordsman to test against another. While each form had a place and purpose there was something within the second form that clawed and embedded within her nature, within her very body. A domain and territory where all that moved within it was under her awareness, a challenge to maintain and hold, even if one must also be able to yield and shift. The rooted mind and body was an easy target to hit, and she could afford to be no such thing. Exhaling her chest would unclench with the shift in her muscles, the point set as another leaf was crisped on one end before falling harmlessly unto the grass only with a slight haste with the charred edge weighing it down.

There were no grand visions of a dedicated foe, but still she continued to train as if it might come. A dangerous battle, every stroke determining an outcome of one’s life. Torn between hoping that such a day might never dawn, another piece hoping that it would…

Standing now without a dedicated master had been a test upon tests. Would someone like her flee, would they try to squirm and toy in the shadows to push the limits of permission? Uncountable possible outcomes that remained within reach yet she remained, in spite of what she might want for herself, she ever returned to a place that carried the latent scorn. Such was ever in her control to do, knowing it was not her path alone she walked, but the paving way for those who might try to come after. Her desire to ease the process and path for those that came after hadn’t changed in all this time. This, coupled with the unconditional belonging to the Force is what managed to keep her sanity for so long against the gnawing hunger of the dark.

It felt like far longer, but noting the standard calendar days it had only been a few weeks now she had poured through every sensation and observed all she was able to take in. She had to prepare for the instance that Jerr might not return to his prior standing, and being blindsided once was unpleasant, so she endeavored not to allow for such again.

Annoyingly the list was largely entirely void at this point, perhaps in a way she thought her expectations were too high. But given what was at stake she made the same exacting standards she would push upon herself. And now, finally, one had made his presence known. The worry of being pushed into a new and unwanted position was alleviated, but now it was only a final question of if he would accept. A little courage on a seemingly calm day, she’d pry herself from the roots of the sheltering tree by the fire near the front of the temple to approach…

---

She had to admit one thing that impressed her even more now. In just a few words she was cut to the core, baring a truth and a need she couldn’t hide even if she tried. She knew that others regarded her with a warranted unease, this sheen of complicated natures and controversial past action. To be given what she’d been deprived, so simple, so quiet.

The choice.

For so long the answer had been simple, yet so few understood. Her instincts were feeling right again. It was in moments like these where a simple turn in the breeze felt distinct and intentional, however nameless and mundane such moments might be. The Force was there, as ever.

---

---

With the siege in place, a piece of the war had come to them. But things felt different now, saying no, pacing herself. At least in spite of the surrounding dark there were pieces to recover where one looked. It was a new and ground breaking step forward.

[Echohawk]

---

Broken World

---

Ambiance - Destroyer of Worlds

---

"It’s far too easy to see the patterns…"
Argus’ words had meant to reassure Kathea, playing over and over in her head. All those lost along the way, surviving masters, foes, friends.
"It is coming… you do not go towards it…"
The warning was succinct, simple, Kathea knew how to take the words of the spirits to heart. Following the instinct of self preservation she sequestered herself deep and hidden where none might reach. Only a digital eye to know anything of what was going on, and for a time it flickered shut before reawakening again…

---

Every channel had been hit, Bandon’s voice filled her senses once again. The figure that tried to reduce her to a beast, and had nearly succeeded. Locked in the prison of her own mind, reliving that horror for hours on end as his sickening laughter filled her senses. She’d followed the directive, she was safe, away. Physically at least.

She barely heard the sound of Argus’ pained breaths, her gaze only just registering his bowed form. The rejected slaughter, only to have all opposition so felled.

I would have called him my master.

In a single sound, with effort exerted in the Force, his life snapped away just as his neck was crushed. His sneer returned, the maddening sound playing over and over in her mind.

It was so tiring to feel them fall, one after the other. Darkness took her senses when her body could no longer withstand it. The pressure, the emotion, the wounds of it all. She collapsed.

Maybe they were right…
They continued to succeed…
All she did anymore was suffer…
Why did she keep fighting it now…
I’m not strong enough to survive this anymore…

It would be some hours before she ever managed to recover. The pools of sickness and the dampness of free flowing tears would be all that greeted her when she came to. And it would take far longer for her to be able to move again.

[Echohawk]

---

King’s Game

Awaken - LoL

---

The siege was continuing to lurk as the ever present and painful storm around Viscara. Persistent, malicious, the attacks were probing for weaknesses every few hours, pushing the response times, testing for fatigue. The counts were starting to rack up for defenders, for attackers. The rest of the colonies all gone dark.

An exhaustive effort had gone into assembling some semblance of a plan to retaliate on their level. But those stars seemed to fail to align no matter how close they came. As days became weeks, she had begun relenting and seeking others to try and help match everything up. A slow and uneasy process to what should be a trivial and simple answer…

---

Feeling a curious moment in her mind, she had a vision of her younger self struggling with a small toy, durable, dubious even with other more pleasant distractions around; this held her fixation.
"Some things cannot be solved in a minute, an hour, a day… you knew this. No one had to explain that to you."
There was that familiar frustration. Tired movements in that small space. Trial and error as pieces would clack and shift, but the alignment was not yet found. Finding herself lifting the object in one hand to throw it full strength into the nearest wall, but she caught herself in the temptation.

While she watched herself, so too did a familiar emerald presence, the one who spoke in her own mind’s thoughts. Never a disagreement between them, familiar, tender bystander. Today at least their movements were in relative sync, a better sign.

There was an eventually of course, not recounting the number of times the puzzle had been interrupted prematurely or days it wasn’t even touched. But finally the pieces came together, the girl had to pause in some disbelief as the pieces slid and clacked more slowly into position. And then finally it was perfect. Done.
"Patience was not the solution, but it was a key to success."

---

Rolling over in her chambers, sleep was coming less and less easily as a variety of gnawing issues kept her on edge. Laying flat and staring up at a familiar ceiling her breaths were the only movement in the ship for now, a time alone with herself, her own thoughts. Waiting on someone to come break her out of the haze.

Her patience had been challenged a bit, and she’d allowed herself to give in to one she had trusted. That gentle voice coming at her in a small forceful way, she should’ve seen the contrast, the oddity of it. But in those alleyways in the midst of her unwillingness to shift she’d allowed it in. Now there was a dose of regret, but still more options and pathways ahead.

You think it’s hot? Go meditate by the furnace.
Such terrible advice.

[Echohawk]

---

Reforged, Remade, Reborn.

---

“I want to do it your way.” Kathea invoked as they made their way. The Echani nodded.

Following the more experienced figure into the shelter of the caverns she would be unlike many before her, carrying all she needed. But as with her new training the former Sith had devoted herself to patience and reserve, for knowledge wasn’t the challenge here among this new enclave. Finally now the time had come to bring elements into form. Settling easily in the mossy cavern amid the fungi and other cavern plants. This was a small place rich in life, imbued in echoes of those who came before to this very space, rich in the Force.

For her this was not a path walked alone, no longer a stranger in a strange land. The people knew her, the experiences had formed her from the beginning, a culmination of all the work and all of the struggle. As her eyes fell shut into the cycle of meditation her core opened up to the melting aspects of the Force. First unto that living Force in the present moment as it drifted continually until reaching the cosmic Force in its wholeness and omniscient truth.

The dark had sought to isolate her before, a steady push towards a feral madness. But her resolve remained when she had reached out and connected, listening to the voices that surrounded her. Even though the caverns she tended were a bit afar, the crystals here carried the songs she’d lost herself in. The voices rising as she was immersed in meditation, in the Force.

"It should be impossible, isn’t that what they said?" A benevolent chuckle, warm and tender. "But you already knew what needed to be done, it was just a matter of walking forward. So we shall."

"Take time to remember the good things, the dark is scary, but we can all beat it if we work together!" The vibrancy of youth, while the voice might be further, her heart still carried some small piece of the hero that was.

The resulting assembly was one she knew, though the Force still guided the act just as it had done so before. The impossible precision and engineering of the blade that was so small and delicate no mere tool could replicate the process. Each of the pieces came together from the remains of the Jedi Master’s hilt, to each component added to make up for the damage incurred. Small artful details to cover the damage with a new accent, small and beautiful. Some components remained a secret save from those she asked for help from, but in the end it was her own. This was not merely a weapon after all, in fact she’d find few reasons to desire to draw it. So unlike before.

Through it all she couldn’t know if there was another more distant eye watching. This second saber carried much, just like the first she’d assembled. Would the one who found the kyber first feel it? Would he know? The Force worked in its own way, this she knew.
Quietly her wish unto the Force was whispered from within as the weight of the hilt found her palms, bringing to bear the reward of the journey thus far.

There was no vision needed for what was to come. Time and again she’d traded blows with the Sith, it would only be a question of when their blades would once again meet.

And who would prevail.

Even if she fell and perished tomorrow, each day was the gift. Every opportunity something taken. Hope’s light would shine again. And as the Force wills it, she’d have a plan within the next day to break the clouds of agony and woe above Viscara’s orbit. It was time to rise.

[Echohawk]

---

Who am I

---

Coldplay - Paradise

---

Carried from another battlefield these moments of vulnerability were less common now, but still not unfamiliar. No expense would be spared in mending her form as she was plunged into the healing waters. Just another day, albeit a slightly worse day.

---

She was losing track now, days sinking into weeks, sinking into months. Constantly on the move yet still feeling like she was standing still. Kathea couldn’t help but finally come to a stop once again. Pausing at yet another schism she was anticipating, but she had to let them make their decision.

Too many restrictions, too many rules, too many assumptions. How can it be that someone can walk through a small sea of people and yet feel so utterly alone again. Keep busy, that was the plan, you can’t worry about it if someone needs your help.

But what if you were the one who needed it?

There was a time she held a harrowing gaze of the Republic’s nature, the beast she was nearly fed to. But to see it, somehow was worse. Yet they -swore- she would never feel their bite.

News would come swiftly enough, this wasn’t a secret to be kept after all. Yet it was impossible for others to see from another point of view. They see things in such straightforward and simple terms.

Slavers. Betters. Lessers. Murderers. Torturers. Friend. Foe.

She watched them unable to cope crumble one after the other. Institutions, individuals, it didn’t matter. When the test came to demand more, not all could rise to the occasion. That should be more expected and yet it always felt a bit hollow to witness and watch those who swore their dedication fall short. Who spoke their heart’s truth, who among us would not be broken or dissuaded, lured away by comfort and reprieve. Who would stand where no one else would…

This, she had to figure, came from her own maligned existence. Being willing to be the ‘bad guy’ the ‘monster’. That is what the Revanites were meant to be, doing something correct in spite of the situation, being able to utilize the resources others had forsaken. Everything had broken in its own unique way by now. At least the core pillars remained, those who were able to stand unbowed and unbroken at the helm to continue where others faltered.

Though as time was drawing on her own words felt like they used to. A chill started to grip her throat, the ache of sorrow held inside starting to build again. No one would listen to her.

After all, who was she.
…a Jedi at heart.
…a good person.
…nobody’s shadow.
This war was the only focus she had, and the Force guiding her through it.
She could not stop fighting, she couldn’t let herself give up to the tugging weight.
There were too many lost already.

Now it came to it where the next confrontation would emerge, and in Kathea’s mind all she could envision were the edges of the cage materializing once more. Part of her started to dip and plunge, her knees giving way as she would crumple out of sight, collapsing alone in the overwhelming moment.

---

When the shock of an encounter wore off, regardless of who delivered it, she could simply lay her head down and feel the embrace of a departed Master’s hand atop her head. A chance to rest, a chance to remember, that’s really all she needed.

---

A broken cup, pride’s wound in the master’s heart, and the dark aches that still weakened her. She’d continue on. Only death or the end of the war could stop her. There was no going back. All she’d yearn for now is that her work would matter, that she would speak and they would listen.
Only one way to know now.

[Echohawk]

---

Judgement

---

Baba Yetu - Civilization 4

---

The day started out with an awakening of a sort. A meeting that would put most on edge, and yet over the course of days and weeks Kathea had come to get increasingly used to the temple’s presence. A place where she’d been drawn out, end to end for examination before. There would always be that memory, that knowledge of what failure and punishment looked like.

Masters appeared in their distant presentation, the core worlds and the High Temple felt like stories she’d never witness, a vision from a world she had yet to walk. Only one she really recognized outright, the rest still names and voices no doubt familiar with her own path thus far.

"Do you think you’re ready?"

What came after was her heart’s confession, nothing rehearsed, nothing prepared. Her mind had already gone white after hearing that others had spoken highly of her. And so their votes came.

The call came to her not all that long after, witnessing the eager strand of Knights filtering into the temple in some delighted haste. It wasn’t too hard to wager what they were up to. Shortly after though it was her turn to arrive.

Every soul in that room that stood around her was touched, the roots of their connection had flowed out. Now they were flowing back into her. The sensation was a drowning warmth, a feeling she’d never fully been able to touch or taste before save for the depths of her own compassionate meditations. No longer did such things have to be constructed, extracted, imagined…

This was real.

---

Each bolt of the gilded cage was pulled, released. The walls coming down, the chains of restriction lifted. She could’ve squirmed free, tearing flesh long ago to run, but didn’t. Now though, there was nothing to hold her back.

A smaller voice came like that of a delicate songbird, perching on the cage’s remains.
"Is it time to go then? Are you ready to run free?"
The toughened hide of the war beast instead sat, settling mere steps from where she stood. Looking to the same horizon that always was, but now unhindered, ready.
There was mirth to the answer, contentment, "One day, but not yet."

---

Long now the speaker had faded, but his memory yet remained and lingered. Words she carried, and now carried forth.

"It is never too late…"

[Echohawk]

---

The Destroyer’s Gaze

---

Set Fire to the Sky - Nerdout

Part 1

There had come a terrible rift within the Order she’d come to. The sacrifices that the Mirialan had made finally racked up into a cost that couldn’t be paid, one slip of the word, one lost detail and suddenly it was a crime. In a sate of shock fifteen thousand lives were snuffed out.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

There was a desperate plea, those that still held love in their hearts for the fallen. She’d been warned against such, the logic dictated that this would be one of those stupid heroic actions she cautioned others away from. A terrible choice, to never try and only know failure, or to try and risk it all…

---

Meeting on Korriban the codes worked perfectly, there would be no disturbances at the starport at least. But security had to be tight, only one was to be allowed on board. They needed that safety, that security, neither would agree to have anyone else there. It had to be safe for both their sake.

He came aboard, alone, all was as promised. A gift in his hands, something from his ship he’d managed to keep. Wine of all things. She embraced him, extending that small bond to forge a moment he could start to heal with.

“I always accept a chance to drink… one of these days it will be the death of me!”
A jest, how true it sadly came to be.

Filling the air with words to reassure, to uplift, focusing on the positive changes to try and draw away from the present crisis it was her attempt to make this meeting everything it could be. She could never know if she would see him again after this, how he’d change. What he’d do to her.

Alas, the change had already come with the silent sinister flow of the contents hidden away inside what she now imbibed. Her voice flowed out for as long as she could muster before the poison caused her senses to lengthen and slow, the panic never setting in, she’d been drinking before to keep her calm. What was a little more…

Limp, blissfully asleep, the small statured Jedi was utterly at the mercy and whims of the one she’d come to comfort. The one she’d come to try and reason with. The one she might one day save.

Held in his arms, akin to a bride, she was brought to the crossroads and the choice. How few steps it would take to head to the helm and end this madness, stop the suffering.

But it was not to be.
Turning left, the boarding ramp lowered. And the two emerged.

Such paths they walk. How terrible it is to fall. How much worse it was to accept it.

---

The lightning shocks pushed her from subdued sleep into a living nightmare.
Surrounded by the Empire itself, Sith of a number, the one who betrayed her.
And Malak himself.

Cuffed, there was that sudden realization of the limitations in the wake of her pain. Her weapon had been taken, ignited and held to her face. Defiance wouldn’t be tolerated, anything short of compliance would earn a mark or far worse.

Looking up the eyes that met her own were piercing and molten, as dying stars. The loathing of the depths of the dark, that scornful hunger, the relentlessness of Malak. The sheer horrific power, the utter control he had over her then, a tiny life within his imperious grasp. This titan offering her a chance, a place, all she had to do…
Was give up.

She’d been reduced to atoms before, clawing at the seams of reality while the pressure and agony ripped her apart and unmade all that she’d done or hoped to become. At the mercy of the Jedi who she’d grown to accept and understand, for the fear that plagued them, how she’d been examined and reduced. They had to know the truth.

And in that same moment of utter humility, utter vulnerability there was a sensation that welled up once more. Both from within, and calling from her blade. The kyber that she’d carried, that was always by her side.
No matter what you decide, I fight by your side.
You are never alone… I believe in you. Truly.

And yet, weakened, battered with her nerves shattered there was something in her that refused to break. She wouldn’t look away. The word was small, quiet, but distinct.

"…No…"

Kathea would refuse, even if it all meant she’d die. For all she’d endured, how many times did she say she’d never bend. And she wouldn’t now, not ever.

There was no retaliation in the keeper of darkness, the master of his taken domain, the dominant force of his Empire. Not from him directly anyway, a mutter of remembering her before dismissively tossing her saber to his second. To Bandon.

Sneering at her the tears began again.
This was the man who’d ripped her apart and put her back together again.
This was the man who had given her body the means to recover and destroy itself in a vicious mind altering cycle of inevitable madness.
This was the man who held Master Argus before him and murdered him with a whim and a stroke of his blade.
This was the man who took those who were escaping the dark that she’d started to connect with and hurled their molten corpses at the Viscaran temple.
Her tormentor, a captor of her mind, a wound that had refused to heal. This was that man.

Bringing her to the brink of life and death the red sands cast their long shadows as her vision was faltering. Lord Bandon carried his victim aboard the shuttle. As the ramp closed her dragged body looked upon the one she’d come for one last time.

---

Sneering, her broken, bound form had been tossed aside. The terminal trajectory already planned within the Sith’s eyes. Musing how he’d deliver her back to Valerius in a familiar, gruesome fashion. She still drew breath, a half hour to arrive. Time was closing fast…

---

Shackled, haunted, this was going to be the end. There was no way out.

And she didn’t even say goodbye… she didn’t say I love you… one last time.

[Echohawk]

---

Strength of One Soul

---

Coming Home - Nerdout

Part 2

Battle Music - Jedi Master Mix

The ship carrying its occupants lurched.
Once. Twice. It couldn’t be a mere bit of turbulence. Anger rose in the Sith’s throat as the doors were torn open in rage. He was apprenticed to the Dark Lord of the Sith, he did not like to be interrupted.

Voices of concern lifted, mentions of fighting, of damage.
CRUNCH
CRACK

Suddenly the air was gone from the interior, but they were still flying.
No. That’s not quite right.
They were falling.

---

Sucked out of the innards of the ship, the depressurizing wind was enough to forcefully eject the bodies contained within. A human wasn’t made to endure the speed of a declining vessel, worse still her vision was going white, she didn’t know where she was or anything else. She was falling hard. And fast.

When pain finally awoke her a great irony greeted her vision along with a terrible sight. The scent of smoke and ash, grand trees and homes nestled within were alight with the fire of the battle around them. The bindings that had her wrists managed to snag onto a branch. Sith craft crashed into another tree as her body flinched from the impact, the explosion, debris, and heat lighting up the night of battle. In its wake was a Mandalorian vessel. They’d been shot down by Mandalorians who were fighting back against the Empire, the actions taken thus far had rallied some defiance, it seemed to be her salvation now.

Which clan… no wait… can’t think of that now…

The cuffs had saved her, but how her arms and wrists ached. Her body had already been so badly and grievously weakened.

Is this it… do I give up… are you done?

Breath and muscle quaked, she had to get down somehow, and there was a platform at least. But she had to move. Shimmying her body with a raw agony with each inch she sought to free herself.

But as she neared the edge the branch began to bend, began to bow, and then…
CRUNCH
CRACK

Nearby a resident being saw her and was ready to catch her before she fell beyond reach to the forest however deep and far below. With its strength she was lifted, brought up and away from the abyss. Only when her feet touched a solid surface could some sense return to her, the wookie breaking off the cuffs quickly to free her before going back to try and save their home that was presently alight. The thanks was feeble compared to what they’d done for her, but the situation was too rapid and chaotic for appreciation to set in. Things were bad.

Voiding the contents of her stomach it allowed some relief to wash through her, temporarily at least. Her steps and movements were a weary aching clawing along the railings of the tree platforms, making her way into the village itself.

---

Half stumbling she was still too weak to even help put out the damage that was raging around them, walking up as she was greeted by another wookie bearing a hat of some local station. She could understand them at least even in this fragile state.
"Who-" His words would not last at all.

Through the center of the wookie’s chest came a saber’s snap and hiss. Pierced and felled within a moment the body fell away as his assailant stood no longer eclipsed by the other.

Bandon was holding her saber still and used it to kill without remorse or hesitation. And now his lethal attention fell onto her. Without anything to defend herself with, her body needed so badly to heal. Weak. There was no way to fight back.
"Why won’t you just die…" He growled, steps closing in.

It’s over now… there’s no chance… are you done?

A singular note, the defiance welled up within her. How many times had she told the others in moments far more soft and gentle than these.
I will never stop fighting. Not until I am dead.

Something silent came to her side, a grasp not of hostility but of warmth, familiar. An oasis from this moment of calamity.
Argus.
A healing washed over her as the weakness and injuries ebbed away within a fraction of a second. Breathing in once slowly, she’d let the Force flow through her. She was not alone.

A thrum came from the weapon he held, her saber remade from the remains of the fallen Jedi Master. Reforged with elements she’d been granted by her allies, every detail an expression she could hold, to carry them with her always.
Powered by the kyber granted to her from the great shift in her path forward, the bond of adoration and service, igniting with that lust for life and defiant hope. Her hand reached out instinctively, reaching unto the Force, calling her weapon home.

The strength summoned was enough to overpower Bandon’s, revealing a faint but quickly fading surprise as his own weapon ignited. Two blades of crimson against her own green edge. No surrender would be acceptable, the contest beginning as Kashyyyk burned around them.
"Just. DIE!"

Driven by duty and purpose their strikes were expertly placed, Kathea was forced to adapt to his weapon. Where he could hit harder and faster she knew there would be openings if she remained patient enough, careful enough. Her own form was far smaller, but she could be faster, more nimble.

Kicking, sliding, the sabers would meet and strikes would land while their flurries played out. Two experts at the height of their respective powers colliding in this moment. He’d try and destroy the elements around them to facilitate further destruction and fuel himself in that expression of control and dominance. Forced to defend and blockade she’d focus on surviving the displacement by drawing in the reach of the branches to dampen the fall.

Down they both went as the first level and bridge gave way, but she kept her footing. The fires continuing to rage around them as she came again. She couldn’t let him keep his confidence and she would not hesitate for even a breath as her own reach was far shorter than his own. She had to reduce the angles and hunt after him with every breath. Using the crumbling elements Kathea would launch herself through the air and between his twin blade to close the gap.

Within Bandon came a rage but also an uncertainty that started to bleed through.
"You couldn’t even pick a side!"
Between deflections and brief sparks that ignited between his face could be seen twisting in anger, a flash of his teeth. Her own expression grim but focused, having known the flow of the fight. Built from the early days to kill and tempered down into this refined, balanced warrior.
"What is this strength!?"
Utilizing the dwindling terrain as they fell from one platform to the next, he landed hard enough for her to drive his weapon back. Everything on the battlefield was an element to be exploited, her saber wasn’t the only weapon she carried.

"Never AGAIN will I bow! Never AGAIN will I hide or sulk or quiver… I am no one’s shadow…"
Answering each blow the wounds incurred thus far seemed to fade from thought. The countless hours sparring with those of the Sith, those of the Jedi, and Mandalorian had driven her body to a new height. Fueled by the Force, feeling the memory of her experiences building in her heart and mind.

This man was a foe, the Sith, the brutal beast.
And here was she, once Sith herself having walked in the wake of Revan, carrying the fighting spirit of a Mando’ade, the clarity of the Jedi.
She was all these things…

"I AM KATHEA SINRAE"
The words came from her like a roar. This once Sith, this former bitter creature that had yearned so deeply to be heard, to be witnessed, to fight for the great things of this life gave a cry like never before. This was a sound without fear and anguish, without rage or woe. A challenging fury of one who refused to be broken, facing him.

And when it sounded, Lord Bandon’s eyes went wide as something shifted. That teetering dynamic had been pushed cut by cut back. The woman was no longer afraid, no longer confused, or left in hapless disarray. No.

He was afraid.

The strikes came quicker, her own single blade appearing within his vision faster and with a distressing precision. There was the battle they were in, and the battle of the mind. With his sudden retreat she couldn’t hesitate, striking with the demands of Makashi’s determined quality. The strike along his wrist, it was time to end this.

Subdued, disarmed, the saber’s grasp was removed. The Sith found himself looking up without a weapon, without a will. Stunned, too stunned to fight back.

The Jedi of such small stature, of such a strange and ongoing path approached close to the man she’d suffered for so long. Even after the exertions of combat there was something determined and quiet about her.

One hand brought her own saber, now unlit to his chest. Her other hand reached for the man who stared back at her in abject horror and broken confusion, cupping his cheek with no harmful intent in her heart. An embrace like that she had wished for from special hearts in her life, she held Bandon’s face delicately as her amber eyes beheld his own that were twisted from the corruption of the dark.

Her words were few, sincere, and serene. Brushing through the air with the softness of a falling leaf.
"Lord Bandon… I forgive you."

What passed through the expression of the terrible apprentice was a deep rapture of utter confusion. How in a world of harshness could this prevail. How with all he’d done for power have fallen short to this.

Kathea could see that struggle within, and she did not move. Not until he had time to consider and process. In fairness it had vexed her considerably for some time as well, but training with the Jedi, seeking the aid she had in the past few days now… everything had aligned.

"And now… I grant you peace."
The saber in her palm, carrying the core and memory of her connection to Valerius came to life.
Enough was enough, there was no room to hesitate further. The weapon awakening against his form with lethal and merciful intent. Plasma met armor, met flesh, met blood, met bone. All the way through.

At that moment the platform that had endured the battle raging around it gave way in an instant, Bandon’s body falling away with the debris as his wound was dealt. Plummeting, wide eyed into the forest below, who knows how far his limp remains went until they reached the ground.

Finally, the howl of countless hours and days of this wretched agony were suddenly silenced. A moment of sublimation, where the wrongs and weights all lifted. Even if he somehow survived this the man would never be the same again. She had defeated him killing the memory, the man, the terrible burden and piece of the dark from her life.

Until finally her body succumbed to the wounds and fell forth. The emerald shine of noble’s light quieting as she collapsed next to the crumbled platform where her foe no longer stood. A gentle force pulling her away from the edge, away from danger.
Darkness… Quiet…

---

Peace.

There was a grasp again, warm, welcome once more. In recognition she murmured out the word to greet him, "Master"

Her head lulling back, turned over where she lay, she saw Argus again bathed in tender light. She’d not realize how her eyes wept, but then again with such a release, after such a battle it was only fair her body finally let herself feel.

The man was in no pain as he was one with the Force now, but instead looked to her, proud. Tender. His message was for her alone.

"There will always be shadows, but you’ll be the light… that brushes them away… my dear padawan… rest now… you did your best."

Closing her eyes, she heard someone coming, reaching for her, lifting her. That was okay. She had done enough for today.

---

A call came through on the interior of the Viscaran temple, her name was on their lips. A sudden rush to depart, to act as their footfalls hurriedly reached transport… they had to find her.

[Echohawk]

---

Epoch

---

The Lion King 2- He Lives In You w/Lyrics - YouTube

Part 3

In the sanctuary of the Jedi Temple’s medbay her form would be suspended in the healing kolto. An expected site for those who had been so badly injured. How much time passed she did not know.

The mind of the Jedi had begun to drift, hearing vibrations, talking, her body stirring with listless motions as she heard with growing clarity at times someone nearby. Things were not clear, but she was being observed, mentioned.

"How did you…"

"Mandalorians… …Lord Bandon?"

"Unclear… I hope he’s dead… But we won’t know for… Kathea is…"

"Argus said… Sith though… Even still…"

"You mean…"

"We have to trust Kathea."

Time passes, her senses come together more as there is the sensation of one speaking to another. The tones are what she recognizes. Quinn is near, but Vrook’s voice still rings through. Yet most of it is muffled until her senses coalesce on Quinn’s words.

"I think she deserves to know…"

There is shouting, there is a clash, a debate. Yet she knows she is safe, she is okay.
Suspended still in the healing liquid she’d awaken eventually to Vosca and Quinn, normally filled with a thousand and one questions there was ease and calm. A smile easily finding her face.

---

A small flurry of activity happened around the grounds. Master Quinn emerging briefly to speak with the guards after stopping by, checking on things. Her awareness was present but that old crack of the training stick didn’t have to be heard, it had become natural to remain in the moment rather than worry or overthink. And soon, she’d know just what he was up to.

The aura came like a chill on the shifting wind, the beast within her picking its head up at the scent, the sensation.

It couldn’t be…

In all his glory and magnificence, Valerius stood before Kathea. Pale as ever, regal, after hearing about his declining condition and state it was a relief beyond words to see him. And it would seem the sensation was mutual. Gently ushering the other learners back from the gate she didn’t hesitate to approach as Valerius eased back from the ground’s edge.

Before she would’ve played through the moment in her head time and again, would he scream, would he howl and strike. Coming here alone like this, all of them were specks compared to the entity that he was. Dark and powerful, of that there was not a single doubt.

Yet she managed to hold her ground, she didn’t yield as she approached. There was no need to be submissive, no need to bow and scrape. This dynamic had shifted, the Hand of Revan regarding this Jedi Knight in no rivalry, but understanding. Two beings, side by side after all this time.

"I have received two messages today, both from unlikely sources… the first had told me you were dead. The second, that you were saved. I had to see it for myself to cut through the mystery."

There was a breath and a pause, it felt unusual for her to hear him explain himself in this way. Always the most confident and determined being she knew alive today, but now for at least this instant he seemed to show that familiar little glint. Something hidden away from all others.

Perhaps in silent realization his authority recovered and fluidly returned to his precise self.
"I am, of course… glad that you are alive."

Regarding her, it wasn’t a mere inspection of her form that followed. Though her condition was no doubt taken in considering the worry he must’ve allowed himself to feel. However much or little.
"You are much different from the last time I have seen you."
His assessment came with a compliment that came with no expectation, no demand. She did not require praise from him. Her path in the Force had twisted and turned, and the great Lord Valerius saw her for what she was.

Yet she considered the purpose, as everything was with him, always had some purpose. But in the endless possibilities of the moment considered in a breath only one made sense.
She had missed him, and it seems he had known the need to show in person that he remembered her too. A pure realization, a simple comfort in the wake of such power. Then again she was no mere aspiring warrior anymore. Still despite their vast differences now it was a regard of peace, respect, and solidarity. No matter what would come next, Kathea would know that she mattered to the one who mattered so much to her.

With a small movement into his robes came a small offering was gifted to her, the remains of something collected out of a fallen Overseer’s things. Looking it over briefly, there was a small tug at her core that brought her back a step. A completely informal little image that captured the Revanites as they once were, this squabbling, laughing, as if nothing undue had ever happened. A moment in time that threatened to bring tears to her eyes, but she remembered herself in the moment and who she stood with.

"May we cross paths again."

And with that, he simply turned, robes catching in the breeze as he gently departed just as he had arrived. While it was a relief beyond measure there was a curious thing missing. Where in the past she would have chased him anywhere, to the depths of the jaws of destruction and back, she stood firmly. No longer his apprentice or follower. She was where she chose to be.

---

In the days that followed would come closure, would come rescues and redemption, however initial. A Master sparing a word to this budding Jedi Knight, a new trust, a connection forming along with a broadening understanding. The galaxy might still be at war…

But her life would never be the same.

With each day a new appreciation was present. Even if it was challenging as ever, even if the movements were a constant wave of noises and troubles it was never anything that couldn’t be handled. Through every lesson taught, each encounter they managed there was something she carried with her now. No longer shattered into pieces, she was whole again. Finally knowing true peace.

Now it was time to look to the future…

---

// End of season 2
Closing song - Who We Are - Nothing More
Thanks to everyone still following along! I really do hope you’re all enjoying. It’s been a wonderful second year now on the server, and I appreciate everyone who’s a part of all these great stories.

Continued onto season 3 - Rising to Stand - Warrior’s Redoubt