Rising to Stand - Warrior's Redoubt

Echohawk · July 2, 2023, 10:47am

Continuation from Season 2 : From Scrap to Bones

Sanctum of the mind.

Settling into the Knight’s quarters she didn’t often reside in, it was a borrowed space as the small domain that would serve as a point of quiet and temporary privacy. A small photograph being set down along with four saber hilts. Far too much detail and memory in simple objects after all this time, but there was no need to defend herself within the confines of the temple.

Kathea still didn’t favor the territory, but the purpose would be served as she remained objective about the Jedi, about their shared situation now. Even then, it wasn’t the building that she had felt ill ease about, just what had transpired there once before.

To keep Kurtz the cat from causing too much trouble while she was writing she would take a simple dish and overturn the contents. A bit of tuna he quickly saw to feasting on. Setting the container aside she paid little heed to the labeling “Master Quinn’s lunch”, he wouldn’t mind. Probably.

Stirring the datapad to life to record her thoughts, she’d gently muse to herself while sipping tea she’d brought for herself. Straying only briefly to the thoughts of the blend she’d provided for the Lord of the Revanites before. Few would ever know such little details, it was a good blend after all.

Redemption. The nature of my path. A meaning beyond the self, beyond individual, or deed.

The term atonement implies the continual actions to impress upon the afflicted a change of one’s nature, a cleansing of past misdeeds, a price paid for decisions rendered unto the point of turning.

Sentients carry with them the memory of good and ill things, ever the wiser for every success and all the more wary with each failure. So too is the interpersonal weight and debt witnessed by each other. A mistake, a crime, a sin, each word carrying the purpose of something accrued upon the identity, upon the soul of the one who inflicted it. Justiciars of a given society taking any form or title render the cost of such behavior, and thus the process to heal the damage begins.

Or at least that is how our mind would hold it. But there is far more to this life than what our ideal world ever would be.

To look upon one such as myself is to look upon the same woman who walked in darkness. She did not die, she did not shed her skin, she is still the same body, same heart, same mind. This continuation brings with it a myriad of responses.

Those who knew of the past can display relief, contempt, resentment, depending upon their own heart’s judgements. For these are the same eyes that beheld the prior form, they see that the body remains no matter how one walks or speaks or conducts themselves. Some are entirely unwilling to let go of that memory. But who can truly blame them. How many betrayals are there, failures of a far lesser extent that conduct themselves in encounters far more frequent and mundane. My existence to them is a challenge, a doubt, a jarring experience.

Those who know nothing of my past touch on the sensation of surprise and disbelief far more readily. How is it this one who carries herself so be guilty of such things. Some question, others outright relinquish whatever detail might’ve come before. Ultimately they are provided some shielding to the nature of what came before, and while there can be curiosity it is all too often that they prefer to keep the continuity of the reality they have encountered. Whether this is a way of the Jedi or merely a way for sentients to process and cope, I know not. Though this is not exclusive as an experience for Jedi alone, in this, likely the latter. For them, my existence is this fruit they can savor from the labor prior, a treat to soothe the aches of a dark reality as there can still yet be an uplifting light therein.

Through it all comes the self. I carry myself forward with the notion that these steps break ground for others to follow regardless of rank or intention, and it gives me strength to believe such. In many a way my personal path was constructed to fail and falter, but instead of bowing to such fractures and weaknesses there was that determined pursuit to see it forward. It would be hubris to assume my own will managed to carry me alone.

There are far too many things to feel, pushing forward while being pulled backwards, a walk of countless eyes upon me and many who will never relinquish the past. One proceeds with the understanding that forgiveness is a notion that cannot be forced from without, only from within. All others must also either carry such a weight or set it down in their own time, if ever. To those adamantly attached to that unease and cautious observation I accept. For whether they guard themselves or others, there is reason for the mistrust and it will never be what I do that causes them to relinquish or shift from such.

To this end I know that redemption took hold not in my time already spent with the Jedi, but the moment I stopped and first believed. The rest shall be up to them…

For all that I am, all that I was, I should not be. Yet here I am guided, urged, a continuation in spite of all else. Be this the will of the Force, it is my call to continue to explore with the gift of life bequeathed unto me.
-Knight Sinrae

Closing down the device she knew she was far from any grand revelation by this point, only ensuring that she reviewed what she’d put down so there wasn’t some distracting detail or error in the writing. For a moment she’d thought of the holocron devices, but she hadn’t a clue as to when such devices were given over for recording. Perhaps one day she would be able to, it was a thought.

Today was the first day she could note down, her Padawan that had found her as the Force willed it had called her Master. Posture easing back with a small creak of the borrowed chair, it was a new day. The quiet never remained all that long, the slight tug of need from rising hearts, though she never minded it. To keep busy, to serve in her own little ways felt good. Hoping softly that something she would impart would carry forward, beyond her when the time came.

Secrets lie in wait, will they stay hidden, will they be found, or lost forever?

Echohawk · July 10, 2023, 7:53pm

King’s Blade

"Like old times."

There was ever the thrill of battle as blades pierced the air. The hum of anticipation, the threat to survival. It was a terrible nostalgia to see Valerius move, her words had been guarded but the tentative peace allowed for something to be passed back. Keeping herself to the task of defending from within, the war had taken a new turn, something sinister and as quiet as shadows.

When she witnessed his hands without a saber her only thought was instinctual. The one he’d gifted to her, to carry forward into battle if need be was brought forth. Bringing her weapon to bear in defense of one of her mentors it was a surreal dance, a battlefield of past and present, of Sith and Jedi. There was a tremor in her, a vision coming to life, even the Republic judiciary gave his whole heart to the battle.

There was only a moment her blood chilled when she realized that the Empire knew she’d survived. Then again, given what she’d managed to do, it was hardly ever going to be a secret. Within the company of those around her the chill passed swiftly. The Force lingering in its present nature as ever.

This was one of those days she’d find herself lingering in the council chambers. Endeavoring to desensitize herself from her initial encounter with it. It certainly helped to have her mind swarmed with a few thoughts to keep her well occupied. Settling in, her head lilted to one side as her eyes found their temporary rest.

The Revanites, Revanchists dipped into fanaticism more than ever before. The place she once stood had little to no memory of her now, any of their old deeds or accomplishments to ensure their survival. But that mattered little now. But to hear them speak of his remains. This forlorn and wishful thought that one day there might be some glorious return, she had to subdue the churning flow in her guts. Of course wouldn’t that be simply glorious. Of all beings, Revan would be the one to deliver them through this conflict, of that there could be no doubt. Though such a being could resume his conquest also, all things being possible in such a line of thinking. To finish what he started. Who wouldn’t see the steady decline, the crushing oppression of defeat and losses mounting, and yearn for that great strength to simply be reborn. To be that miracle the Force had been known to evoke as only it could.
Of course there was a smaller, selfish thought too. What would he think of her after all this time, Malak barely remembered her, at least initially, no doubt he would’ve forgotten her too. To have come this far on the path and endured all that had to be done in his memory…
Her brows furrowed as she was tasked in a social setting to remember that fateful turn of events, what ending became a new and wretched beginning for another war’s existence.
It was impossible, she was there, surely he had died. None could survive that.

By the Force these chairs were comfortable, but they really were going to need to get more. Her fingers would trail along the same grip that Gael once enjoyed, perhaps Argus did as well. She never met him in these chambers.

Thinking on the departed master, for once she didn’t have to wail or struggle. She only smiled to herself now. Whether he’d ever know it in the Force, he’d always be the reason for her smile now.

Someone had called out, someone had watched over her before. But she had no idea who had ensured her survival. While the thoughts tugged and the suspects were narrowed, she felt no closer to the truth of it.

Reaching for a T-visor that was one of mere steel she glanced at the reflective surface for a moment, running her thumb along the edge of the helmet. New temptations were awakening, pulling harder. Even she had to admit she was impressed how she was feeling the strain of shifting tides and raised stakes; the Aliit’alor had a way with words that kept her grounded, firmly so. Yet there was work to be done, advancing forth to join the next assault.

Having walked with them this far, she’d soon see how they saw her as she stood amongst them.

A second Padawan then, two would be her limit. Where once was a small tugging doubt came something different, flowing as the river’s way one need not fight the current but instead ride it. The call of the blade had sounded, and as with all weapons she helped to see forge she would see them through to awaken as warriors. The time had come.

Echohawk · July 15, 2023, 12:13pm

In the shadows…

Alive - Nerdout

The Four, a simple enough name. With her face in their hunter’s gaze she had already begun to hear whispers of their hunt. It was natural enough to combat their intimidation with a stalwart resolve, but she hadn’t met them yet. For now it was only faces, captured memories on a holovid screen. But her form braced instinctively, senses on alert for these new combined threats and servants to the Usurper.

For now though it was a nearby threat, but not an immediate one. And she had enough of those…

All at once there was a split in reality, a jagged knife of betrayal though its origin of its making was a step beyond her perception, the agony of its appearance and use was a familiar devastation.

How ironic that the only sanity she reliably had would be the instrument of her downfall. But no matter the sensation, no matter the temptation she’d not bend to it. The Masters had to know, she’d made them a vow swearing that there would be no more lies. Her whole existence an ongoing shackle, but somehow she also knew this day was coming. In the depths of her sorrow, her fury, there was an acceptance.

A cutting rumor, hate breeding hate. In her core she knew this wasn’t something they would ever escape. Former Sith, always Sith. No matter how one runs from it, no matter what deed is done or words spoken, there was no escape from the unveiled recognition. A jarring truth akin to that of the event horizon, this harshness that would never be covered, cleansed. The dark within each and every last one of them. The one blessing is that she managed to bite down on her own limb to stop from reacting, she’d let the shock of it all pass before she’d move again.

A wise choice.

Retreating to the confines of her ship, there was a slow slump until she heard something scenting the air through the Force. There would be no respite, no sanctuary. Nor did she have any desire to run from it. Something of a new nature to her to turn and confront that which sought her, those moments the Force willed to be since in her mind to run and hide was to deny it. She would stand in the light.

The approach was trivial, the suppressed minds, the clamped ship. Everything was under Maligar’s control. And just as well when the hound of the dark came baring his fangs at his master’s command, the offer was familiar even with the small differences.

Wounded in spirit, weakened in balance, she had to let the thoughts settle before she could even respond. The whole encounter rattling inside of her skull as a dull and repeated hit that disoriented her further.

This power, a name carried down through the ages. You are not the strongest… but you could be.

The predator of the dark ever the insistent one. This is what her life would always and ever be. He might only give the offer the once, but there was always going to be another someday to follow after. Yet with the same eyes that beheld him once more, with the same hands that grasped a new hilt, she rejected him. And the battle raged.

Feeling too weak, too drained, too spent to face the temple yet she got her wish in the Veles hospital. Her body would bear the mark of another fight, shedding the layers as the menders did their work. A form littered with scars old and now new. Across from her was the kolto tank of another familiar warrior of Ara’novor.

They really had to stop meeting this way.

On the stark windy edge of the grounds Kathea stood on her own holding a photograph. Valerius had bestowed it upon her not all that long ago, and yet she’d rarely taken the time to regard it until now. Part of the old squabbling crew flailing in their development was a little offshoot of the Gimpassa, a group she’d always felt outside of but accepted nonetheless.

A simple enough call from an associate of the past, somehow she already knew something was off but advanced all the same as she’d taken to doing. Stepping into the ship the lure of catching up was the opener, but the purpose would reveal itself in short order.

The cutting words of the Togruta pilot rolled through her thoughts now. The physical damage now coupled with an outright assault on her psyche.
"If you ever make her cry again…"

Yet where she should’ve buckled or back down something had given way, shifted. The loathing barbs of the screaming attacker landed, they certainly hurt and struck deep. But she wouldn’t give in, she wouldn’t give way, she wouldn’t apologize or back down now even as her essence dripped freely to the floor to pool beneath. Seems she’d struck a nerve.

Few would ever realize this battle was taking place, these changes, this evolution. All while she took in the sound of the lake shore, the wind’s flow catching her robes. Still her grasp remained on the photo taken, putting it back in her pocket for safe keeping.

It was not punishment in the end, though she was getting tired. She had to admit that much as she dragged herself out of sight. At least to those who needed to know it, she had told them now what her heart’s joy held in spite of all else.

I love you, more than the stars will ever know.

Echohawk · July 31, 2023, 1:34pm

Fallback

Siames - Brothers

The funeral rites were a slow going process, perhaps done so with a degree more care due to the weight of the war. There was a cost being racked up in the losses of each fallen master. But of course while she was away and afar there came this distant ringing, trouble on Taris.

Her return was slow going, her voice was perhaps a little too unfiltered and candid. So much so that the imperious gaze of Vrake managed to be drawn in even from a distance. Yet how many times during her own Padawanship had she not taken steps that were unorthodox, made moves that caused anxiety all the while knowing she was having to do what was right. She’d have faith in them, until proven otherwise, reports be damned.

Taking to the distress beacon there was a familiar flight, that rush to intervene on a vessel unfamiliar to her. And yet the process of taking wing was as natural as any even if she wasn’t the one flying, for now at least. Racing to some far flung abysmal world of Ziost they would all settle on the wintering part of the world with only the master’s life in mind.

It felt strange in a way to not entirely know what was going on. She’d heard dark sounding talk of one of her fellow Knight’s condition, heard the screams and the endless pacing. Talk once more of prophecy, of vision, and now the key to everything. A seer at their side, all these things new and happening at once, but she had the fluidity not to simply stop or care. Just as well since with their arrival came the closing jaws of the Four and their entourage.

Within breaths trees were felled and numbers quashed. Kathea’s focus fell on the masked male in brooding red and black at an impressive height. Her Padawan was with her, helping to cull the situation back into their favor, and she was doing more than all right. But she had to get this Lord away from the rest, away from Quinn, to rupture his communion with his brethren and so in her new unusual fashion she charged and tackled him which began the wild chase through these alien forests.

Yet in the end only one of them would return… Fate was denied this day.

There were words offered to her in closure.
"One day… You will have to choose between the Jedi and the Mandalorians… whoever you choose the other will be your enemy."

There was a balk and a bark behind her own head. How trusted can seers be? They had already denied a death once, this very day, nothing felt like it was set in stone. These ultimatums of all or nothing were becoming less the challenge to walk, but only because she managed such. Eventually she knew in her core it would not be her faith tested, but that of everyone else.

That made her wince.

A great wolf had fallen among the clans, and admittedly watching the local groups shuffle over change was a discomforting thing, but a necessary one it seemed. She’d known the hunger that was hidden behind those who sought power, and of course that overwhelming moment that you stood atop the edge having it in your hands and none to count on but yourself. While the Order had started to move strangely, act more insistently and demandingly there wasn’t anything that would hold her back from the needed work to be done.

Those who were taken would be taken back, even if it hurt. No one was getting sold off, no one was getting left behind. Justice and freedom, that was the oath. Even if her life was a delayed sacrifice, she’d live it well.

And yet among the romp and ruckus of so much chaos that could made the head spin and the heart stress there came a strike from a side she’d not felt in some time. At once her comms were illuminated with that of the Revanites, a request to speak breathed in the air, a neutral territory selected.

My my, they were serious and considerate, this had to be important.

In recent times there had been chance meetings, largely one offs of those with a wavering faith unto the dark, unto their Order. Yet within each Jedi came this quiet little master to guide one’s words, one’s heart. Even as they confessed and confronted different aspects of their own fraught existence there was a touch of empathy, countless memories, and yes even deep down a long standing yearning to serve once again at his side.

But there was no need for such, for he already was. He always was.

"Trying to find their place, that struggle of identity. We went through it before, long before any of this ever happened. We’ll make sure they know what is available to them, because we did not. The heart must decide what it wants, so long as they learn to use their words instead of clawing for their place in the galaxy they will find their way."

The emerald form stood unseen at her side, the bulwark of her resolve and manifestation of the path now formed. Never to be separated again.
"How far we came, how much we’ve learned to be able to stand where no one else could. Where no one else would. We were made for moments like these."

Quietly as they parted ways each time, each face she was learning there was a wonder if it would be the last. A tender balance as ever, yet there was something alleviating in seeing them survive, seeing them manage to thrive.

Among so many hearts, among so many fates and dances of life, every strangled breath and exaltation of triumph… they would all be needed to one day stand together.

Echohawk · August 11, 2023, 8:36pm

Among the Ruin

BG3 OST - Down By the River

Akin to training a beast, a step out of turn earns the strike. Quick as a snap, the turn of a word and unwanted attention, and the harmless blow is delivered. The threat display strikes further than weapons can reach. Ironic that it serves to be the correction that does more harm than good.

In a candid moment of venting frustration the gaze of Vrake fell however distantly on her. Landing harder on those who were her Padawans caught up in the midst of a storm they did not create.

A haunted existence within the fold yet ever the one on the edge, the outsider. Still it was a necessary pain to endure, each one carried its message.
You have to remember your place among them.

Snapping.
Snarling. The retaliation looked befitting a creature within the confines of her own mind.
“No this isn’t how we’re meant to be. This is wrong, there’s just nothing I can do about it.”
A miserable admission, but one found in clarity at least. Much like those flicking tails to shoo away the biting flies, she kept the pests of such thoughts at bay.

"We stand where others might follow… Not where it is fair. Not where it is easy. But where we must."

Remembering her time on Dantooine there were plenty of somber moments to take in. Yet between the examinations and words that were intended to uplift in spite of loss, to find a path forward in acceptance and the Force, she found herself with a little time between duties and nodding her head to the various Masters that paid her little mind.

Heading to a small creek that cut a tender groove through the land in a soft way Kathea would be able to give herself ample space from the rest as she often needed it. The way they moved at times you’d forget there was ever a war at all, and such implied realities grinded against her very being.

Cleansing her face and sampling a quick drink was enough to sate her before she began forming up her stance in the open fields. The rest would have their lessons, philosophy, and endless debates but she needed space to strike and let out that pent up anxiety and frustration. The second form was ever a cleansing battle with herself, unseen opponents, striking for the threads between muscles and key bodily infrastructure. Balancing violence and precision made manifest, going over the memories of her battles before with the Sith. Hope’s light would sing with every fluid stroke and mock deflection, suddenly drawing to a halt as there was something.
For all her skill she didn’t realize until now that she’d been followed…

In a neutral tan set of robes the young female human seemed awestruck. Her beads behind her right ear indicating her rank instantly, the cord at the end of the thread showing her age to be younger than that of the usual Viscaran learner. With black hair and striking blue eyes it seemed she was glued to the scene of the lone warrior acting in practiced aggression apart from the rest. Raised from a child to embrace the mind and peace, one still undamaged by the aches of life. To one like her Kathea must’ve been strange to look upon.

In her own being it was a hard thing to disable, to turn off. Which is more than likely why the dark is so shunned, so feared and loathed. Once touched it has that way of permeating one’s intention and conduct, and Kathea did far more than touch upon it even if she did abstain entirely. The violent practice came to a close as they spoke softly, it seems she was only curious. And the small statured Jedi couldn’t help the small joy of sharing with someone new.

Gently her arms came around the girl as they took a moment to sit, and the Knight would simply lend an ear to the young Padawan about her training and her days. Listening to the quiet babble of the waters as they passed, it was a fine way to end her evenings there. Each night until it was time to return.

Most of her days and hours were focused on those who she called her Padawans. And while she always had thought to see to uplifting them and their lives, she had no idea how much they would embolden her own. There was warmth, kinship, seeing her not as the others did but as one who belongs.

And yet, just like that, one of them was gone.
A different kind of strike, she’d have to mourn it quietly even if it wasn’t her fault. Normally the tender voice of Hope’s Light would fill her senses, but they both knew that there were times to speak, and times to relinquish and listen. The throb of ache and loss. He wouldn’t even be gone, he’d went where she could not follow, no matter her soul’s yearning cry.

This was not a good day.

Echohawk · August 24, 2023, 10:05am

image_2023-08-21_222211522

The devil you know.

A little bit off - Five Finger Death Punch [Explicit]

Things had changed since her first Padawan left, the wound was the newest among the ones she already hosted. Betrayals, goodbyes, deaths, everything was just building up on her like a terrible mental display. Normally the fighting and tasks would quiet that storm, ease the ache.

But it wasn’t working.

They strode out together, Jedi, Republic, Revanites. She should’ve been proud, thrilled with the moment of spontaneous unity however brief that it was. Drawing the ire of the foe onto herself as she was the most adept at doing, it was success.

Somehow in a gradual realization she understood why Gael moved as he did, acted as he did. And the smallest quivering morsel of her being wanted it to.

The screaming controls, the jaws that selected prey, to leave them for last. They were the prey as the hunter looked up from the carcass of another ship, smiling with a stained maw. But she knew how to run, taking the Black Eagle away from the clutches of their pursuer. Too many unknowns to contend with, too many caged words and half spoken realities, only instinct could remain as the grasp found her arm to try and pull them in. But in the last breath they managed to shake loose. Rattled, but not broken.

It would only be after they touched down again that the true source would reveal itself. Her own patience was wearing thin, being pulled back only by the words of her Padawan.
"Ghost in the hold."

Marka Ragnos.
The visage of the Sith was just as menacing as she recalled in the tombs she’d helped to cleanse of raiders and desecrators. Her prize for their old victory was still on her flank, long since ignored by most all, and yet still by her side with every step even on this path with the Jedi. The saber hilt managed to conceal its true origin, and she saw no reason to part with it, even now.

How many times had the darkness offered her a way back, that tender outstretched hand promising power. A chill ran through her blood that paralyzed her in place.
For the first time she wasn’t screaming and clawing no…

I can’t… they’ll destroy me. There is no way that I make it through alive or conquer anything. I shouldn’t… they’ll never forgive me.

She should be reaching out, but she just couldn’t. A critical flaw compared to the sage words she so often doled out to others who would listen.

But the Force must’ve had her back this time. Quinn approaching in his damaged state, unable to see with his eyes found her off on her own. It was an ease she needed badly, but even then he felt odd. Off, however subtle. She’d never known him to be all that… master-like, but at least there was some ease in the constant storm of hits.

The Viscaran Council… suddenly calling for two rising Knights to Knight-Captain.
She hadn’t even put her name forward and all of a sudden in the pits of an uneasy day the news struck her on the side. It should’ve been a joyous thing and much of the Order seemed to reflect such, but would it matter to the prior Knight-Captain?

With an admission the following day, with the way things were something about it all felt tainted. The doubt of it churned away like venom in her veins. Maybe this was a mistake. Standing adrift and alone in the chambers where she’d been broken down to begin this path she had to spit her frustration.

Of course she wanted to comfort the man who’d comforted her, but there was so much to go over. They had to be objective… or was she too detached. Her fingers would claw around her own form as she held herself stoic for the moment.

All she knew how to do was move forward, stagnation in the moment was a certain demise. The weekly lessons with heavier talks seemed to be a resounding success with the students, but even she felt a need clawing at her. Quinn’s parting words from their exchange prior to the continued chaos rattling around in her mind.

Rest.
The pressure would vent in private, as it had to be. Tomorrow had the answers today didn’t. Tomorrow was coming.

Echohawk · September 1, 2023, 9:21am

White Wolf

One Foot - Walk the Moon

The confusion of recent cycles had passed, the veil of uncertainty was lifted. And of all the people who’d come to walk upon these Viscaran Jedi grounds, she was to remain in her new station of Knight-Captain. There was a strain on her that quieted when the truth was made clear, though the words of desire on the part of a master still struck Kathea in a strange way.

Her only wish in this was to ensure the elements of the Dark Side were not manipulating the Jedi, and dooming her progress thus far. It would be an insult for some meddling element to strip the validity of her rank, she’d rather not have it instead. But Master Quinn was freed from the influence, and his decision remained.

Though it seems he was not alone in his approval, but she would not know for days yet.

Even as Master Vrook entered the chambers after her lesson was held there was this surreal moment that began with her fellow Knight-Captain’s uplifting word, but it circled around the environment as praise began to spill forth. And here was Kathea feeling out of place, on the spot before one who had held such justified judgement in his heart. There was this relentless positivity that was no exaggerated truth nor honeyed lie and in the presence of a High Council member there was no room to try and be coy or hide.

It was a new kind of embarrassment she had no ability to prepare for, as words failed her. As ever the kyber at her side rose with a tender hum, the voice filling her senses as the master within her spoke with their combined voice beneath the surface.

How long… did we work for those who were ungrateful, for those who scorned us and clawed for our lives. When this is where we truly belong. The lessons you give, are the lessons you wish you had.

It took a different resolve not to crumble, to remain composed in the face of this acceptance. Wondering for months for what was deserved, where she belonged. Only now it felt like her eyes had fully opened, standing among the Jedi Order’s heart.

The summons of a High Council member were not something anyone would turn down, and certainly not someone of the Order. As harrowing as the moments were up until the exchange she had no true reason to be afraid, only the unknown was the reason for such anxiety as a member of such a leadership did not tend to utter things of a simple nature.

For a moment it was akin to looking at a mirror, bidding her to utter thoughts regarding improvement and to allow her to speak freely. A way she interacted with her own students and companions, yielding the conversation to them before the heavier talk began. So this is what it feels like…

A brief moment spared for Malak, who seemed to wish to deliver his ire back to Kathea even from a distance. Such contempt she was familiar with, but she couldn’t quite know if she was perturbed or proud of the space she occupied in the dark lord’s mind. Still, that she did was a separate element to consider in the conflict still unfolding.

Questions of attachment briefly were lifted, of prior shackles that held tight.
Revan, Valerius…

Yes those names would forever have left their imprint on Kathea but she could not keep living for the past, nor would she ignore the continued agony of the darkness that enshrouded what she had helped to create. Yet months ago they had yet to know of the strike delivered to her former Order, in the midst of Mandalorians that carried a lingering loathing of their own.

Valerius in his own moment having approached her with concern for her survival as his only motive was able to depart with them both standing as individuals, neither beholden to the other any longer even if memories remained. A new objective reality had been established, the follower would lead as she once did, being more than just a sacrifice to stand where others feared to. A fate some continued to resign themselves to…

"You have come a long way Kathea."
"I see no Sith Lord. Just the Jedi, Kathea Sinrae."
"I am proud of you."
An authority of utmost harshness, one of the greatest purifying fires of the whole of the Jedi pierced all uncertainty. And yet all Kathea could do was bask in humility. There was not a wavering of confidence or doubtful questions that flittered around. She had earned this, as she had so long dreamed of doing.

"I know my trust in you will not be misplaced."
The highest compliment she could ever take in. The one regarded as a threat in every aspect, that the masters carried fear of, finally being given trust. Such a thing was not to be so easily broken. If she had learned anything from all the experiences in her life that there were few stronger elements than trust, loyalty, and true devotion. Never one to follow blindly, but not one to break away save for the threat of annihilation, this would not be squandered she vowed in silence.

With a common farewell the two parted until their next meeting would be arranged.

In a twist of irony, there were those who confided in her as ever, the councilor she endeavored to ever be that caused her to dip into a small rage soon after. The ache of the rift that had formed came from others but she was not immune to the pain of it, even if she had buried it well thus far. Choices made by others in the throws of passion affected them all whether they realized it or not, and while she preferred the gentle hand of protection there was a point where poor decisions couldn’t be swept under or away. Finally a single thing pierced her defenses.

An imperfect being cutting through the deceptions and constructed lies, now there was a breath that pierced with a frigid chill. How many times had they used Revan’s name to lure them, to pierce them, to draw them into these mental traps. Even she had taken the bait before, but there was no substitute.

There is no Revan but Revan, and Revan is dead.
I will not surrender the moment for the past, I will not live for the dead.

She had to remove herself, the moment’s lapse in control sent her physical form into a tense shake. The Knight-Captain withdrew in a sudden departure giving what few words she could, knowing she was in no shape to do more. At least not now.

We know our limits. This is enough.

Within the domain of spirit where the fallen walked freely as the mists of risen fog, a predator of war felt her heart soften and yield. A gilded cage long since abandoned but her territory needn’t extend all that much further, footfalls finding the secrets and the hidden caches in the land she’d looked on while a captive. The agony of new growth had since passed, a crown of the prey had formed to adorn her crest and brow. She’d never forget her teeth nor the taste of the kill, but things had undeniably changed. This was her ground now.

image_2023-09-01_101621905

Echohawk · September 4, 2023, 10:25am

Return, Once More

With the shuttle packed it was time to depart, though there was a slight unease in the High Council member’s stature she couldn’t help but catch. Something was unspoken but she focused on the flight for now, bringing them in to Dantooine once more. Nothing out of place with the flight, she was a practiced pilot after all, easy trip.

While there was intensity from Vrook, the other masters greeted her with a far easier disposition. Lately there had come these flood of compliments and a small part of her started to feel what Bandon might have just before their battle had ended. This gentleness, this kindness felt strange, welcome and yet still so odd. But with what came after was a different humility, the consequences of her choices.

There are those hearing of your tale… many dark Jedi are returning because of you.

A breath was held captive, her mind flashing to those illness filled days and nights of self torment, of her thrashing form trying to wrestle with the future to come. The fear of failure and imminent destruction at war with a defiant little hope that hadn’t even fully awakened yet.
Remembering back to when Vrook conducted his own pressured interview of the vulnerable Sith Lord. How many lives could she impact, it seemed to be more than a mere emotional attack as the results were coming to life.

That moment mercifully passed with a small request for her to do a little combat lesson, a spar. Of course she was all too happy to oblige.

All the while there was this fixation Master Vrook had on her, but Kathea only hardly noticed. She’d done nothing wrong, it was probably just another one of his little pressure games or something. Oddly enough she neither begrudged it nor stewed on it, maybe she was getting finally used to it all.

It was time to get back to Viscara. At least Quinn had his room back.

Had she only known who it was she was training and testing after Bastilla had walked out of the room. But something tugged at them both, faint, distant…

“You look familiar…” Neither remembered the other though. Not yet.

Echohawk · October 9, 2023, 12:53am

ab67616d00001e02fb5a34cf7cc227265bfa3015

Personal War

Mystery Skulls - The Future

It would be an otherwise unremarkable day. More training, more pacing around the enclave as a listless heart. But a small training session drew out the Jedi Master she was least expecting. The gravely stoic and immensely skilled Vrake, observing a simple exercise between Padawans that weren’t her own.

Yet her blood had run cold, time slowing in her mind as the prickles of fight or flight dulled into only one thought.
Flight. Run. Pain forward. Any other way.
At least she had learned to resist the impulses, the distance was enough even if it looked almost comical to see the Knight-Captain cower a bit from a Master of her own Order. It wouldn’t be until after he departed that her fellow Knight offered the words that were issued tenderly and afar.

"You belong here. He knows that too."

Now came the embarrassment. Her head hanging with the stress, the memories as one’s body learns to cope and deal with a sudden onset of a potential threat, even if only imagined. Turning away even her confidants from all walks of life echoed the same command, the same rectifying choice to not continue to permit these aches and hidden wounds to haunt her steps…

In the end, she knew it was time to face it. Entering in the request and pressing the send message before she could stop herself and fall short.
“Master Vrake. We need to speak, face to face.”
It was buried in other texts, maybe he wouldn’t even notice it.

Now the fire was lit. It was only a matter of time. Ironic that it might’ve been her own former master once again intervening to keep the pressure off her that kept him at bay for this long.

Even from beyond Kathea was being given reasons to be wary, of threads moving just out of sight. Grateful if also confused a new theme was starting to emerge of those who were watching out for her. But in this an ache was starting to form. Her thoughts started to manifest in the tone her kyber took for her, this time soft, but distinctly masculine.
"They are protecting us on purpose. This isn’t some idle consideration. People are going out of their way to ensure continuation."

With the alert given, it was in her nature to follow the scent as far as she could take it. And yet even Kathea knew when she was outmatched, you didn’t survive this long by pushing against odds. The thread was simple, sincere.

Stay out of this Knight-Captain.

As ever, she couldn’t be one to fall apart, not even for a second. The damage was already done, the wounds would remain, she simply couldn’t afford to stop for she wasn’t challenged by extreme forces outside of her control, she wasn’t being ripped apart by anything that could be seen.

Not all moments pulse through the skull like surviving being captured and fighting for one’s life at the edge of a blade. But the message and determination were the same.
Bury it, hide it, keep going, even if it kills you.

It wasn’t obvious to others who were off on their own missions but Kathea had slowed down in her activities considerably, mostly really focusing the rest of her time at the Enclave, keeping what order there needed to be and handling the various topics and trainings that she did. And yet she couldn’t fully quell that need to get out and deliver another strike.

Then there was Quinn with an idea of his own.

Deep within the familiar fortress of the Leviathan, their covers were adopted, breaching beyond steps already taken. Passing over the final battleground that belonged to Gael. They’d gone further.

But the same foe appeared to challenge them once again. Malak’s jawless bite was no less devastating, even if she’d come along way. Directing the flow of retreat the best she could, and yet hearing the injuries inflicted upon her own Padawan.

She had to turn… and take him on. Just long enough to buy some time.

The hatred heaved after her as she carried her own Padawan who’d risked herself to spare Kathea a dangerous blow thundered after her like a nightmare.

RUN KATHEA SINRAE. IT IS ALL YOU KNOW HOW TO DO.

YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF GALAXY.

Seeing her to safety was first, all her other functions were run down, there was no time or pacing other than to flee. Quinn barely had time to get on before they were barely scraping off. With the Twi’lek now in some degree of stability, with the adrenaline and the fear and the energy ebbing fast she plunged into the kolto waters.
She would not wake soon…

Echohawk · October 15, 2023, 11:09am

Den of the Jedi.

Godsmack - Serenity

Breaking up the consistency of the war there came an invitation that had the Knights all buzzing about in their duties. Plans were laid, preparations made and expectations set. The Viscaran Enclave had been invited to the High Temple in official capacity for presentation and unity…

The Knight-Captain awoke that day already tired, but it wasn’t as though she had to do overmuch. Herding the flock was an easy enough affair, relatively speaking. In spite of their unorthodox nature, they were entirely capable of shaping up and showing off. Far from her first position of management it took little evaluation to know that they would be up to the task. Reaching wearily for the cloak hanging at the exit of her room, yawning widely in her simple human way.

Coruscant was everything and more that the holovids had always said. Take a kid stuck out and away from the general mainstream education and society and place them in a domain of culture, the height of power, where the war was some disruptive news off and afar and away. The surreal duracrete fortress city world was as alien as experiences go, and up ahead was the distinct features of the High Temples towers and structure.

But before they even entered in there was a brief fraternizing among the upper classes, sweeping her attention from one set of voices to the next, ensuring there were none acting out of order. And yet it seemed the chance to walk away from this war for a time had the Enclave in something of a serene mood before they ever approached the grounds themselves. Treats obtained, souvenirs of their fellow Jedi and friends, it seemed like they would’ve stayed to burn every credit if allowed.

For them this place was a stronghold, but for her it was a grave, a prison built to hold beings like her. What would the Sith she once marched beside, commanded think?
The ache filled her muscles and swirled through her veins as it was more than unfamiliar and unnatural territory for her. This was the den of the beast that would unmake her. Gaze flitting, chest thumping, the paranoia welling up as they were exposed. Utterly at the mercy of the keepers of this domain, a warrior walking straight into their maw, the former Sith standing on the precipice of Jedi prestige and providence.

Her focus was only broken when her companion Knight in black showed up to sweep her in an embrace. The one who’d quietly come to her side to ensure she did not succumb remained close as well. Words had flowed, but her mind and senses were in a daze. The relief was the first break in the frost of her core for the day. And she would need to refocus with a duty to attend.

The procession itself was as expected, filled to the brim with the Jedi Order, or at least what remained of it. The Grandmaster herself rousing hearts with her words, stirring stones to rise within the chests of even the most stubborn and cold. The core of hope incarnate in a galaxy ravaged by war.

Next it would be time to call forth the Padawans to be recognized. Three were summoned forth, and their masters to join them. Before the High Council, before the entire Jedi Order Kathea and the other Knights stood with their respective Padawans. Here was Coral, the Nautolan who had met with her in the sanctum of the crystal caverns taking a knee once more. The words were familiar, honorific, tradition. The weapon was drawn and the bind that once held one to a specific line of training and expectations were relieved. It was her first to raise up in trust and training, unquestionable, undiluted success a Jedi to forge their future as peers.

A surprise came at the announcement of a Warden amid the Order once again, a title not bestowed in millennia bestowed upon another one of their Enclave. Though Kathea had to confess her mind was still awash in the accomplishment of her now former Padawan. While there was respect issued she allowed herself that selfish space to have some small pride and celebration. This place might not be for her, but it was for Coral. Even if she were to fall and fade tomorrow, at least she’d done one thing right.

Little would she know who all was in the audience that cycle, how excessively hard she always was on herself. But the time had not come, and there was still so much to do…

It was time to return home. And where one rose to their potential, a new movement caught her attention. Just as with the lunar body cycles there would be yet another rising light. As Kathea prowled and paced there was a tender confidence of the ailing Padawan that gave her pause.

“Why hesitate?”

The forest that she’d claimed was filled with sound and life in full once again. Companions new and passed contributing to that vibrant menagerie. Her white fur fluttering in sudden passing. She would act decisively. No hesitation this time.

Echohawk · October 21, 2023, 3:28am

image_2023-10-20_205402336

Ice and Fire

My Demons - Starset

Another week, another group lesson that had the learners all abuzz with new energy and thoughts. It was the small sensations that gave the ex-Sith a small pleasure in knowing she could continue to build them up in new ways and develop their minds. Things she would’ve never had the chance to do had she been extinguished all those months ago.
The routine had been established on the Jedi grounds, but some things were not forgotten.
Not forgiven.

Such as it was that day, starting as any other along the Jedi grounds when rumors reached from far flung Tatooine of trouble in a Hutt’s palace. Talk of two distinct individuals. Something Kathea had to follow up on with a small worry in her heart. With even the smallest confrontation from afar, it seemed that was enough to tip things over an unseen edge. Another Padawan turned away, unable to face her this time. That familiar grief struck her as she clasped the Padawan’s beads in her hand.

Yet she would not have time to stop, to mourn the ache that formed quickly.

What came after cut in a familiar and deep way. That venomous blade of betrayal. While she’d known her former Padawan and the former Knight were close, she had no idea just how long this attack had been prepared.

Giving herself space she made sure no one else would be hurt by the hate she heaved into the open air in that moment. A howl, a mournful cry, a hateful sound that tore through the air and the Force with a piercing echo. A release, however painful, as she damaged her own throat in the expression. Grabbing, gasping, her body sank in place where she stood at the lonesome cliff’s edge.

Seems the visage of the Mandalorian spirit and the Jedi were back in their old war once more. There were choices to be made, options. She’d always teach others about this reality, how one can seem confined to a single outcome. And yet as her breathing calmed from the scream she’d allowed herself to release, that calculating mind already knew what she’d have to do.

Her newest Padawan was the grace she needed in that moment. His warmth, delivery, affirmation. Whatever edge she stood on mentally he handled coaxing her away from with the gentlest assurance. Even if there were things he could never protect her from. If the prayers could be heard, she hoped that he would not have to endure what she had. It was beyond her control now.

She’d not run away from this, but face it. Even if it meant the end of this life.

Echohawk · October 30, 2023, 5:56am

Death

Rag’n’Bone Man - Human

The anxiety of the enclave was not lost on her. They were sensitive, they could feel the sudden tensions and shifts between raised voices. Kathea would not allow them to suffer too. It was a bold choice pushing that small control to take the heated conversation into the sanctum, to face him alone. But she felt compelled to. Even if these were some of her last actions, she had to try and ease them, protect them, shelter them one last time.
Beaten, betrayed, terrified there were no denials or retorts as she submitted to his rage and threats. Head bowed, she would have to wait for what came next.

It wasn’t right…

Within the eye of spirit came a beast from the heavy mists, each step an agony, every beat another deposit of essence upon the ground. How many times had they all struck her, how many times had they hoped, had they swung, had they screamed for her to die.
The scars were a web, one interlacing with the next, too many to count aside from the deepest one now that left her form open and raw. There was no time, no chance to heal. Yet the feet found their place one after the other, marching forth.
To this place there was a cage, the imposing stances of the keepers. They had the power here, the choice to determine if she was worthy to continue, or if she was truly and utterly spent. The scent of seething smoke tainting the moment. A warning, a danger, a threat. The element meant only to consume and destroy even if there was a chance for growth after. After she would be gone.
Yet it was they she turned to, they she would not flee from, they that she placed one last moment of trust. To them it would seem she might be arrogant, above judgement. To her this was a test of the very soul of all that she had ever fought for. Only they could heal her now.

Flesh withered, there was no strength left, no fight. Only the impulse to march forward and continue to face the confrontation. There were no other instincts left. What was once a full being had finally been emptied, the question would be whether they would put it down and out for good. An open cage door, a blade in their hands, and the rest of creation around them.

This isn’t fair…

There were aches and pains, subtle shifts that would be normal in the day to day. The asking after someone, she sharing of that time spent. But such mundane talk carried a new weight with it. The scent of treachery and mindless compliance in her wake. Those she had lifted up, those she had taught. It was the Sith all over again… amongst former Jedi she could understand, but even present ones. The searing words, the hateful vengeance that was being sought. Masters who wanted capture, violence, retribution. Threats since before she first stepped forward.

The ache of reality, the will to stand where no other could. Here this collection of mind body and soul stood unmoving in full submission. The blade was lifted, the test was failed. Eyes closing tightly…

Enough.

Blinking, coming to, there was some strange reforming. As if breathing again for the first time, seeing the shapes for what they were. Assassins. So many assassins all screaming for her to bleed, for her to suffer, for her to die.

You have more than proven your worth Kathea. Even if they choose not to see it and seep in hatred, you already know the truth seeded deep inside of you. Your loyalty and dedication might not have been the vision they had, but you are alive, you are of the light and no longer the darkness. If it is our place to be destroyed it will not be by meek acceptance as an unfinished or broken thing. You are great, not by what the others keep telling you, but by what you do, what you know. And what you choose to do with what you have.

They would have their control, their dominion. Kathea was never one of their kind of Jedi, and now she would not sacrifice someone else to spare her own misery. Perhaps it was a test, perhaps they truly hated her.

They can call me whatever names they wish.

I will not break. Not to hatred, not to contempt, not to anyone.

Kathea had been largely distant for most days, hidden in the temple’s walls, wrestling with the various emotions of fear in silent battle. But every message she would’ve composed was scrapped, every word that would’ve rallied the others to her was put to the side. A breath out cleansed it all away, she had to be what she knew she needed to be. Though curiously the call had not come for her, not yet at least. Might as well get some work done…

I will not give in to the darkness, I promised you as much as I promised myself.

Echohawk · November 6, 2023, 2:37am

Transfiguration

Siames - All The Best

The worst was over. You made it. Things are only going to get better from here.
You faced it, you stood your ground, you told the truth, you endured judgement.
Life was starting to feel normal again. The training, the talk, the relief with each following breath.

After passing through the veil she felt shaken but changed.
Though even this seemed to be the final illusion.
Just as she stood with her head raising again, it was just enough space for the blade to be drawn and cleave like a singing scythe. Beautiful brutality.

The High Council member arrived to deliver what could have been stated days ago, growling out those same questions she’d already answered, making sure the other Jedi would hear it, would see the pressure, her guilt. It was all intentional, to see if she’d swing like others who’d been browbeaten would have. But she had to demonstrate the respect that was expected of her, she had to submit where others would rebel. The dynamic was unfair, the power was in his hands, and it was he who heaved all the judgement and the scorn in that moment while she cowered. Just the same as it began.

Stripped of all her efforts, she was to be nothing until she was to be judged. Again. All efforts erased, all present nuance faded into ash on the tongue. It was over, she was done. Every fear preyed upon. Mercy with a blade to her throat that now cut her open, mercy without forgiveness.

They lied.

A quiet and encrypted message went out into the dark networks, a quiet repeating message,
“The Jedi lie, the path of atonement does not exist. They will kill you. Stay away, stay alive.”
Scrubbing the terminal of her presence, what little history and data could’ve persisted, her own transmission codes scrambled those prior contacts wouldn’t reach her anymore. It was time to return to old pathways, to become untraceable, unfound, unmade.

With any luck, that will save someone the pain an misery we endured.

There were plenty of unknown places and unnamed worlds to go to, such was her journey now.

She was broken, her name meant nothing to her anymore. She’d shed that, and so much else now.
No telling what was left anymore. But for her it was over.

Echohawk · November 30, 2023, 11:07am

Lonely Business

Ship in a Bottle - Fin

Hitting comm relays was an infrequent affair now. Further, weaving, never in place for more than a day where the lines might possibly be traced. Had a lot of time alone with her thoughts now.

Lots of questions from the outside, a single answer to give. After all of it she didn’t regret following her instincts, only reaffirmed as words spoken in possible trade surrounded her.
‘Tradition’, that was the reason to lose her connection to the Force in their eyes. It made her sick in her stomach. Rejecting all she’d done for them, all the times she held back, kept holding back. In this dim hour all her senses and reasoning had aligned, a heightened state, a skill to remain elusive in spite of whatever she felt. In spite of whatever she wanted.

On those days where she was the only sentient on a world she could find overlooks to dwell on, to savor those perhaps virgin breaths on worlds still unfounded. Unseen as the wounds were, they still scored her deeply.

“All will be forgiven-”
If.
If you get what you want.
If I submit and return to where I started.
If I trust those who handle such power the way a shaky spice dealer toys with the trigger.
Place my head back into the jaws of the beast who salivates now with the desire to devour me.

No.

Don’t be stupid, don’t be so unreasonable that you expect me to fall for that again.

Her eyes open to the vista once more. Trust was already shattered. While one might bemoan an existence away from former purpose, but for her there came a newly formed core and foundation. No longer withering under some self-wrought shame of unworthiness and lesser existence. Taking that once broken skeleton clawing to faint wisps of hope and forming skin and sinew. To go beyond mere servitude and seeking one’s own meaning.

So many empty words and unfulfilled promises, every fear born into reality after such pretty little lies that the hour would never fall. Only through it came enlightenment, a joining of sensation and prowess to precise sanity and unrelenting will. Once more passing through the veil of anguish, from darkness to nothingness, and now from nothingness into something whole. The same body, the same heart, tempered and tested again to emerge forward once more.

It was the rare being that stood by her now, even at these great distances.
If it was survival out of spite, better to be missed than mourned.

The comms awoke with a few familiar frequencies. Swiftly spooling up another jump point while she surveyed the information with a precise gaze.
"They have accepted the offer. The Republic still will have a bounty for a while though."

Left beside herself to think.
Could she return and elude the Republic until they focused on far greater threats.
There was no serving others anymore, not after what they’d all done to her.
Converted into a beast for hire, a lone soldier of fortune. What else was there to trust. Though her emerald companion was quiet, but ever watchful. An inspiration quietly stirring, the nature of connection never allowing for mere survival to be sufficient enough. But whatever would be decided and forged would have to be more resilient than anything before…

She could realize her hand was shaking in the open air as she had paused on the message rather than proceeding to the next. The alarm blunted at first but gradually rising as a small persistent reminder that her present situation was still precarious.

While she shed that prior existence as she now had to, the Force had given her the means to persist. Though to what end. What purpose could the discarded and disgraced supply succor to now. Her fingers closed and balled until she lost some feeling in her digits, refocusing on the surroundings again.

Still, her wrist turned as the hyperspace jump was initiated.
The flow had shifted once again.

Echohawk · December 6, 2023, 1:36pm

What is it all for?

Immortals - Fall Out Boy

Keeping off the beaten path was not a new sensation. Donning attire, donning masks was all part of the new normal. It was a careful conduct of knowing who to trust with the circumstances of all that had been said and done, in spite of all of that was endured there were those who still believed, those who still saw through all the theatrics and drama. Tense meetings and messages, apprehension and caution were required for now. But there were places where it didn’t have to be, few as they were.

Worlds lay undisturbed for countless eons until the arrival of one guided by the Force in flight, escapes to the far reaches and well beyond the grasp of civilization. Ships now stored and running on minimal energies, a little light construction of normal housing underway, it was a small project off to the side to help fill these uneasy cycles. The crisp seal of the ship’s hangar signaled a closure not only from the elements but the outside world. One might not regard the interior with the same delight she did, but it was as much a temple as it was a home.

But the soft sounds in a side corridor indicated this place was already inhabited, yet there was no concern for the one who entered and lived so on guard. Her own presence was easily detected as the figure revealed himself.

A charming beast in a simple tank top and pants, his smile could melt Hutlar.
"Home a little early, love."

Reducing her armor and outerwear to something far more sensible and comfortable she’d move to embrace the man. While it might seem a simple hug, there was the small tug of her fingers along his shape and figure, memorizing each of his war wounds and scars even through the clothing, eyes shut tightly, arms quivering. In a reality where she had held her breath for months, she could finally breathe again, the one who managed to keep her sane through all the anxiety and stress. Such an unlikely source had kept her afloat all this time, hidden in beskar from all else. Even her old Jedi master understood the need, the healing that he provided, even if he didn’t know exactly who it was. Some might not recognize him for that warmth and tenderness he’d managed to rekindle after love lost earlier in his life. In all of creation there was no one she could trust more, a partner who would’ve scorched worlds for her. But there would be no need for that.

There was only the faintest pause as she turned her head to listen to the faint crackle of something over heat, then looked over his shirt to note a few minor stains. It seemed once again she caught him in the midst of cooking, it seemed he had planned to surprise her in one of his little ways.

A kiss shared before he’d turn to retreat back into the kitchen area with a hum on his breath.
"Go ahead and relax, I know you’ve had a long flight. I’ll bring dinner in for us."
A tender command, yet she would heed his recommendation all the same. Quietly she knew the guilt he was carrying around in his chest since things had broken down, but this was always the risk that existed. It would take time and healing, but she’d made the choice already long ago and painful as moments were, this was worth it.
Someone worth living for.

Settling on the bed she’d pull out one of her older disconnected datapads that didn’t respond to the holonet pings but served more as a small digital personal storage now. One leg curled under her, the other freely swinging off the edge like some careless youthful creature.

All manner of little personal notes, attempted writings, little expressions of herself had been tucked neatly away. Elements of the past that had been softly unspoken. Letters, so very many unsent letters and messages that should’ve made their way to Valerius but she’d never had the heart to send. Such frivolous small things now, but they’d endanger her if she made her presence known again, seeping out a small pained breath. Of course he was on her mind, going to the Jedi was as much to try and save him as herself. But that didn’t work out now…

Then a small snippet of data that was years older, a space station crew manifest, a few collected pictures of a curly haired agreeable tough lady. A small flock of maintenance droids, heaps of damaged material that was ever on the move for recycling off on the side.

*'Dahlia "Fixer" Sinrae *
*'Kathea "Scrap" Sinrae *

"Hope you’re proud of me mom…" Brushing her finger along the screen before she heard footsteps closing in. Softly tucking the device back under the bed before the out of armor Mandalorian approaching with a tray of whiskey and steaks. She might never find her father, but such wants had to be set aside. Besides there were moments like these to savor and enjoy.

Enjoying a meal together, dozing off to a nature documentary of one of many offworld wildernesses, she’d stay up only a little longer. Though Rhirk grumbled softly, a thumb to rub over the length of her arm.
"What’s bothering you…"

A few small blinks of refocus before she could respond.
"Huh? Oh… it’s nothing."

The growl in his throat was small and unconvinced.
"I don’t buy it."

Another sigh relinquished, resettling in the crook of his arm at his side.
"Just… wondering what comes next."

"Mmm." Keeping a strong but gentle hold on her, just in case she had any ideas about escaping. "You’ve got me."

A man of few words in those moments, yet knowing what he wanted. It was a soft determined resilience that reflected her own. Falling in love wasn’t something she even thought herself capable of doing. Using it as a tool of manipulation, having yearned for those well above her station, well out of reach to be worshipped like distant stars and untouchable kings. But it seemed much like the Force there were elements one couldn’t hide from, one couldn’t deny. Perhaps the saying of a person meets their destiny on the path they took to avoid it was true…

Finally she had something, someone to call her own, to stand at her side through it all. Where they used to stir in trauma, the two could hold onto one another and simply rest now. Dreams came softly with the chiming of a tender bell, calling to her in the night. A verdant paradise, a lone figure standing there with the distinct notion of watching her, waiting for her. Beckoning her… home? All she’d remember was this yearning in her chest when she awoke once more.

Yawning with a head of bed hair she could turn and look over at the resting warrior. Looks like it’d be her turn to start the caf today. Breaking out some religious painted planks that she’d stored away she’d move with a private delight, a happy smile of things to look forward to. There had been plenty of anguish, lots of nasty hateful messages, so she looked to the positives to keep her going.

Even if this is all she could do, it was far better than some possessed revenge plot. She had no intention of backsliding into the dark. Propping herself up in the frame of one of the viewports she’d watch the local wild uxibeast like creatures off grazing some distance away. Seems for now this was how it was going to have to be.

There had been a terrible pain through so much rejection, so much isolation. But now she had time to process, space to contemplate. Ever vigilant for opportunity to come.

Echohawk · December 12, 2023, 5:57am

Careful Spring

Cassetter - Introspection (Remix)

Experience was a priceless thing in delicate moments. Even the smallest feeler sent out was mere dust into the laser tripwires, easily alerting her to the dangers ahead and the choices that would lead to disaster. Isolated, outnumbered, outmatched, yet she’d linger in the peripheral, unknown what few times she could. Small tests of the water to see what stirred just beneath the surface of these social reservoirs in the rim. In a way she was almost disappointed to see such blatant thrashing and obvious hostility. At least the one who had delivered such a critical blow had operated under a fair amount of slow burning deception until the strike threw her life completely out of routine and normality. Rare that anyone could slip the knife in, the blade so deep, she remembered the agonizing howl of her body and soul as the strike landed.

Now in her shadows the toxicity only sought to rise, keeping her isolated, making her the threat she wasn’t. Setup for failure just as she was the first steps she took towards that enclave, the only difference now was the wisdom to know how they all scorned her, hated her. Forgiveness was in her blood, but she wouldn’t be taken for a second time. A resolved state of being, to the death if it had to be, sooner to escape, but fight as she must, as it had to be now.

Standing at times outside of the lake base at a small distance there was a solemn quiet regard for those stationed inside. But just as countless other faceless wanderers her presence would come and depart without much in the way of notice. But to see it still standing was an odd sort of… comfort.
For now it was the life of a ghost and shadow. Patient, present, but unseen. Only those who she wished to be found by would see anything at all. The predatory mind of a former Sith now coupled with the patience and willpower of Jedi training, yet she didn’t feel a pull in any particular direction.

Still there were those cracks that she could find, the true friends amid the nightmare. And with each she managed to reunite with she knew that her decisions were the right ones even if not for reasons anyone might’ve understood. The sheer violence that would have transpired would’ve broken her, to watch those she loved break their bodies upon this unrelenting shore of reality. Now that was something she wouldn’t have been able to live with.

Listening to the gnashing of teeth, the speeches of rising tyrants was an easy reminder as to how she found herself where she was. But there were those who looked to her like a leader as well. Grateful as she was, there would be no illusions or softening of the present dangers that existed. Just as it was after being pushed out of the Revanites, now all the more each day survived had become all that much more precious. Even if there were those that hated her, rejected her, she was filled with this overwhelming adoration all the same, but she had to be smarter about how she felt. Hers was no longer a limitless resource, but a treasure to be guarded and respected now, even if she had no regrets for what had to be done in recent times.

No the only regret was breaking loyalty with the first being to stop and look out for her, who protected her. And now it was likely she’d only let him down, but she couldn’t know for sure. Perhaps staying alive and in tact was his only wish. For now she could only wonder…

tov-jedi

By now she knew what the hunters would be thinking, just another renegade who was a threat to institutions and to the general public. A capture on sight was the standard encounter to be expected. She was no longer a person to most of them, just a mark, a quarry. Who she was didn’t matter to them anymore, this dehumanization was intentional, necessary. Can’t have empathy for someone dangerous after all, they might take advantage or even convince you of their innocence. Of course she was a bit more than someone who didn’t adhere to the law, being a potential threat to the entire system.

There was a gnashing set of teeth that she had to reach behind her shoulder to clamp shut, quieting the indignation of the situation, refusing to succumb to what was the natural order of any society. A steep breath of irritation was all she’d let out. Accompanying it all was the shudder of potential conflict, while she might’ve departed without much fanfare or struggle she wouldn’t submit herself quietly.

Normally her mind would fill with who, and how would she counter each of them until the sound came.
CRACK
A single snap of wood above her head, but only present in her own mind.
Grunting, she found focus back in the moment again.

Echohawk · December 17, 2023, 9:31am

Surviving in spite of…

Show Me How To Live - Audioslave

Engaging with the elder again was always an enjoyment, it felt like it had been a little too long since a simple discussion with a seasoned warrior could be shared. He would have no idea just what level of healing such a simple engagement was for one like her. Connection had been the way her perception manifested, understanding the pin points of people from strengths to weaknesses, from their fears to their wishes and dreams. Granted, her companion all too readily pointed out just how much she focused on others, and so terribly little on herself.

But there were many more times when she was alone.

There was many an hour in transit or between minor hidden little tasks where she would supplant herself into meditation, not merely as a way to work things out, but to seek that communion as ever. Even though most times nothing came of it, it was the muscle that had to be trained, it was the routine to be kept. As the weeks played out though something started to chip and gnaw and break through. Grasping and holding her own form as it swayed where she knelt, there was a storm that could no longer be denied.

It was a poisoned path from the start, this is what I meant when I said I’d never be like you…
It was all lies from the beginning, even as they demanded your truth and obedience…
Abandoned at the first inconvenience, when leniency and patience were granted to all others…
He said I belonged there, but I can only imagine what he thinks now, how much he hates me…
They shouldn’t be able to sever a true Jedi, that’s what you said…
From the beginning none of it was my choice, all I wished for was to protect the one who needed me…
So many get to do the things they would destroy you for, but you’re the one who burns…
Used and betrayed time and again, it’s not a wonder you have trust issues…
Something is so very wrong, but only you can see it…
Are you so sure you believe you’re doing the right thing, but aren’t we all, isn’t Malak…?

The mind’s pathways turning down hundreds of hallways with specters of possibilities reigning within each. Many occupied with hunters, and others still with the presence of an old darkness that had once thrived on the fires she had fed all her focus into. Normally she’d be stopped, normally she’d be busy, or corrected…

A scream of anguish erupted out as her palms found the floor in an abrupt forward crash. Breaths heaving could barely keep up with the reeling sensation of the pressure weighing upon her. How she’d tried to let in a belief, the Force wouldn’t put upon her anything she could not handle. It felt almost juvenile, but here she was trying to insist that very same hopeful truth of reality into her being as her mind was wracked with stress and pain.

When hope is gone, when you have nothing else, trust the Force. Words that should’ve comforted, alleviated, yet how many were driven to this sheer brink of existence. How could they possibly understand, how could they help her now? Normally she might even self correct, but she knew she needed to feel, to process sometimes no matter how it ravaged her senses.

The lessons granted to others rolled around and struck the surfaces where they impacted like marbles in a glass house, displeasing, yet still succinct in their truth. Though she knew how such things could be, they were empty words, though her empathy could never fully embrace the pain of the moment as she endured now. That there would always be such voices heaving their loathing, those that oppose and despise. And yet in spite of such there would be those who loved, accepted, and embraced. What a disservice it was to shut out that love in favor of the negativity, to despair and hate. Her teachings, her aid was just as much to herself as it was to others, but she had to remember and keep hold of her sanity.

Fingers crawled up into her hair, the floor would catch her tears as they fell from her weary eyes. The cracks were there, they always were, but how much longer would it all hold together.

"When is it my turn."

The last job had given her enough to resupply, refuel, and leave before too many questions were asked. Crawling to her own paranoid little bed space by the helm of the ship her shaky fingers would claw desperately for a syringe. A single shot into her veins and her eyes would roll back as the body fell limp. Tranquilizing herself just to find the quiet once again.

Where one lone woman fell into an imposed rest it would seem utterly hopeless. But the fond gaze of masters now passed beyond life, the warm hum of her kyber crystal still radiated. Even in the grand distance of the galaxy was a world where her friend resided and connected as all things do with the Force. Quiet as such things were they would wait for her to rise once more as with any other day, witnessing her singular drive to survive.

They were just unrelenting, they really did hate her. It didn’t matter that she was a victim, nothing mattered anymore. Anything she’d ever tried to do was ruined forever, there wasn’t enough that she could do to save herself anymore. She was powerless. Unless something changed, it was over.

They had won, not that they’d be happy. Nothing was ever enough for them. It made her sick, so sick that all fell into silence, stillness, and nothingness. Waiting as the barren moon adrift…

I’ll just be here, waiting.

Echohawk · December 24, 2023, 12:32am

Castle in the Sky

SIAMÉS "Firestorm"

While being a fleeting presence or alone for the most part, there was that longing for connection that the mind simply couldn’t deny. It was the very context from which her initial tentative steps in deepening her understanding of the Force truly began. While that voice was safely secreted away for all of the eons of time and space, she still had to continue taking care of herself.

Taking a smaller craft that was a bit too slim for any additional sleeping compartments, Kathea had settled into the pilot’s chair as it reclined just enough to allow for some degree of comfort. A modified cargo shuttle to allow herself both a smaller travel signature and a degree of cover. By now most were tucked away in various Life Day festivities, her delivery of alcohol would no doubt be well received.

Just as her dreams paraded on through the stretched hyperspace lines, her mind wandered along with the craft through the void. Senses settling on a figure in a black cloak, hood drawn, they were indistinct. And just as their head turned…
A grumble, a rub of the eyes, her indicators all alerting her to the arrival. Muttering the most minor curse to this ongoing burden in her less than restful times.

Sure enough a familiar accent of a slippery set of lips of the Mon Calamari hangar coordinator sent the corresponding coordination hail, not realizing just how much she smiled as she heard the voice again. "Howdy there Century Stone, two-six-six-seven-nine-two, reading you on course to dock. Give me a wellness check of the pilot, confirm status and your designation are all correct?"

"Affirmative, crew of one is healthy, cargo is in tact and ready for transfer to the on station facilities." Sending over the full manifest on this new IFF that was separated from her prior existence. Hardly uncommon here where slavers and rogue traders were known to pass through.

"Prompt, exceptional, get in here, everyone’s waiting for you~!" Fish-Eye warbled his inebriated praise, failing to fully mute a hiccup through his gills as his fin hand only mostly covered the comm intake. Even she had to let herself giggle, seems the festivities were on track as ever. "Please proceed to bay 24-B, have a nice cycle!"

Local deliveries section for standard sized craft, everything just like she remembered. Although usually she was never the pilot, only the girl working on gear shafts and exhaust condensers hearing the announcements play out. Greeted by the humans and other various species that made up the marbled composition of the stations present inhabitants, no doubt due to dramatically shift once the standard year turned over. This was ever a place to pass through, never to stay.

After the payment was transferred and the goods were being offloaded she would head towards the maintenance levels, passing by the industrial processing sections with their refineries and loading docks. The heat that would normally sweat off the area was at a simmer for now as the majority of the workers were off getting satiated on all manner of treats. The smelters would remain lit for those unlucky enough to draw the short durasteel rod and have to work on cleaning the build up residue as it was one of the few times they could easily afford to do so without stifling their production.

The maintenance area hadn’t changed all that much, from what she could see. Still piles of various pieces for debatable amounts of continued use depending on how cheap the repairs had to be. Although her mother’s way of ordering things was thrown well out the airlock and only by her own knowledge did she recognize the groups as they were stacked now. Slowly she’d remove her helmet to look around a bit further, though it didn’t take long to catch some attention…

"Holy mother of Hutts…" Her veins writhed with sensation, the comment and focus seemed to be on her, someone who noticed. "Scrap!?"

The sight of a Trandoshan was far from unusual, though it had been while since she’d put eyes on one in the flesh. With muted grey scales and a maw that split his face open it was the best attempt at a smile he could throw on with the sudden recognition. "Kliir, Clear cut, is that you?" Even her tone betrayed some surprise.

Tossing aside the spanner and having it clang around carelessly, the reptilian sentient couldn’t help but scoop and squeeze the tiny human. "How is it I grew this much and you stayed so small. Tell me, are you eating enough? You look thin, and this cut?" A singular claw tracing along her face with some care. "From hunt? When you disappeared on that shuttle I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!" But even she had to admit that the attention and jubilation made her just a bit nervous.

"It’s good to see you too my friend. I had no idea if you’d still be here after two years. But… let’s not make a whole ruckus about this. Things haven’t exactly gone well out on my journeys. There’s a bounty floating about, and I just…" However she was cut off.

"You know how it is around these parts, kriffin’ near everyone has a reason they out of the 'pubbies reach. Here…" Handing her a set of work goggles meant for welding and other sorts of work that was hazardous for the eyes. "Just wear these and no one will even notice, okay? Come, you’re just in time to help fit into a space and help me bring back this steel bird to life."

It was a small pleasant feeling of reconnecting, grumbling over the various war stories and peoples she’d met over the course of her journey thus far. Mentions of Jedi, Sith and all such things just baffling the engineer into surprised reactionary sounds.

"It sounds like, and yes before you correct me I know it’s your ‘point of view’…" Giving another bemused hiss, concentrating on his present electronic calibrations tasks. "But you got screwed somethin’ special Scrap. First they try to kill you off to prove how strong they are, and look how that all panned out." Snorting. "And then the others try to get you to tell the truth and then punish you for doing so, rewarding betrayal." Tongue flicking. "Good to know the galaxy is still poodoo." A final snap of the jaws.

As the gunship started to flicker back to life with one final set of wires being rerouted in the tight space that she could more easily fit in, there was a sigh that escaped her. "At least…"

"Yessss… Yess, from your point of view." Kliir preferred to keep things direct, she had always appreciated that.

And while she had arrived initially alone, there was one set of eyes keeping watch out for her. A Mandalorian was an uneasy sight, but with the war passed their types were becoming more common even out in this stretch. It said something about his protectiveness that he’d be willing to come this close to the Hutts he so despised. Later they’d settle down in a private space to celebrate their first year’s end together. For now those steely eyes took in the world that was her childhood home, peering into a piece of her past, what made her who she was.

Echohawk · December 31, 2023, 2:29am

Just a little starlight.

The Fall - Half-Alive

Each rise, check coordinates, frequencies, hone the body as much as time would allow, before taking a simple meal and looking out somewhere different once again. Some routines were best kept after being established, and while not all might be diligent there was something grounding about the balance of physique to form a foundation for sanity while the mind dove deeper and further into the concepts of situation and circumstance. Always looking for that next alert to bring her back to life, yet the voices afar were silent as ever. Eyes closing with a pinch of bitterness in waiting, her break for festivities had been taken, surely there was more she could do as she was in Fate’s stasis.

With a low grumble and a thirst few drinks could quench, she found herself at another distant world, long neglected and forgotten by the Republic in the midst of the various crushing wars. Inhabited yet disconnected, this alpine world held little in the way of any strategic value, and had been left on its own to heal after some of the prior conflicts. A native population traumatized by the Mandalorians along with the other travelers and wanderers who’d come to find this spot ‘home’ for however long. With the dilapidated state of things, it would take countless supply runs to restore the amenities for a decent starship port to be maintained. Mercifully she was hardly stranded, just making her way with a few extra layers around her face and shoulders to protect her from a bit of brisk winds in the highlands.

Shuffling into the cantina that still was scored with structural damage it seemed to be a popular enough huddle for how sparse the population was. Taking up a booth she’d ask for whatever was on tap, throwing in an extra tip to the tender for the local news and rumors. The distilled sap of the local flora was apparently all they could regularly keep in supply, sticky, but satisfying. Apart from misery and hopelessness, grumbling about the senseless destruction on the part of the prior Neo-crusaders there wasn’t much that stuck out. Listening loosely to the chatter around her she would recline back in that moment, savoring that tingle of connection. The way that sentients communicated, collaborated on everything as mundane as the end of the day meal to business. The thrum was a soft white noise that only she could really take in, without any sharpness of hostility she found herself lulled into an ease as the drink settled in to calm her core.

Then again having a blaster pistol and her sabers at her side once again allowed her a sense of readiness. Just in case.

The Force had its way of nudging her, as in a short time there was a somber thread making the rounds. Tugging on the arms of other patrons, pleading in what seemed to be a continued annoyance to the rest, a woman with a cybernetic leg and hand calling attention to herself. Under her shawl her eyes parted as the uneven steps approached. These cybernetics were unfamiliar to the one using them, this damage must’ve been within the last year from her estimate.

With unkempt hair and skin pox marked, her approach was anything but subtle. Having already pleaded with the rest of the patrons, inevitably Kathea’s turn had come.
"Please…" Her words strained from emotional exhaustion, "I know it’s a long shot, but… Have you seen my son?"

Gazes now met, there was that tug in her chest, a call to first inquire but not yet act, not yet promise something. "I only just arrived. What’s happened to your son?"

But even this small degree of empathy was enough to make the distraught woman burst with explanation, Kathea could feel it clawing away at this fraught mother’s core as if her heart was outside of her body. Raw emotions she had forced into submission of her own will, but the taste of the feeling was still familiar, agonizing. Such fear, such worry. Empathy, connection, her focus fell on the story told.

The son it seemed had journeyed further into the exclusion zone, rendered such from the extreme damage to structures, known also for downed starships in the area as well. Various risks of collapse and potential chemical exposures within the zone were commonplace, but there was still valuable resources and technology to be collected from those spaces. Even though he’d been a scavenger since the fighting headed to other fronts he’d not returned from his usual collection patrols.

Settling back, she knew she’d been the last to even be asked this. Perhaps uncomfortable but having little choice but to reach out to even a stranger from the stars. "I don’t have much, but I will pay if you… find anything." She’d shake her head to the mother.

"That won’t be necessary. I will at least look, that’s all I can promise. But if I may know your name…"

And yet the dam breaking of sheer relief and the scoffs from nearby eavesdroppers couldn’t be entirely overlooked. Mutterings of a death wish slipped from inebriated lips. "Hellena…! Hellena Brunswick. And- and his name is Connor!" A nod to follow, a small piece to help identify him if she found him. "There shouldn’t be anyone else out there, perhaps a few droids, but the area is fairly… adverse to life." The suggestion of hazardous material gear was offered, but Kathea had her own back on the ship. It wouldn’t take all that long to prepare.

Heading along the mapped out route there were scenes frozen in the alpine climate, passing everything from burned out vehicles, damaged terrain, and every so often a set of armor too damaged to be scavenged. The old crusader armor was largely durasteel anyway. Outer clothing catching the wind as it whipped the trek was not all that pleasant, but at least for a time she was off ship and stretching her legs.

In a sudden turn around the mountain as the path continued to descend the scene broke from the occasional sighting to a whole injection of unnatural color and damage. A boxed in valley might not seem like the place to host a battle squad but with her experience in the war thus far she could see that the highlands were not suitable for landing as a combined unit, and the pathways up were as much funneling defenders as well as the aggressors. Burnt out ships, bunkers dotted the space ahead, they’d all landed hard and fast, and by now most of the largest salvage that was untainted by engine runoff and other exposure had been picked off of the carcasses of what was left behind.

Seems though there were no bodies, the dead had been taken care of as the salvagers went. Cracked helmets embedded in the ground or other personal belongings above raised beds of earth. She was starting to piece together what these scavenging patrols might entail. Though she’d pause at times to ever scan for radiation and other toxins to try and avoid such, pulling a mask into a tight fit over her eyes and breath. Seems the whole lowland was holding the toxins in a minor concentration where the land was lowest, which was this area. But all in all it was quiet, it was dead here.

In theory it should be easy to find the lone scavenger, this missing son. The horrors of the war and what the Mandalorians did before was not lost on her even as she went, but she carried no contempt about it. From their perspective it was their duty to serve, engage in the war they excelled in, rapidly recruited or willing or otherwise. She knew why the Jedi and others despised them, but knew also where such feelings led to, what a poison such could be. And yet, she couldn’t focus on what was with so much going on in the moment as it came more naturally now.

Passing the creaking hulls and stripped bones of various craft, it didn’t seem this offensive had any Basilisks in it, they might’ve already been salvaged or were never deployed, but there was none even so. The wild wind here wasn’t enough to drive off the spilled fuel and accelerants, the land tainted for a considerable time to come without outside assistance. With her senses extended there were little songs of tension, of rising danger, but nothing of life stirring among the ruin.

A steeper breath passed the filtration system as she lifted her chin and closed her eyes to concentrate further. A tender curiosity of a fresh presence lingered, a trail going beyond the miasma into a glade just beyond, unharmed by the conflict at all. Her own feet found the trail as she departed the dead zone and into this pocket of alien wilderness.

The presence of an alpine forest seemed so odd so close to the destruction and she could sympathize with the curiosity struck. A closed area on all other sides with mountains too steep to traverse on foot. Pristine as it was there was an unease in the Force, the answer was silent and simple. This place was protected, but how could that be.

And yet just as she considered there was a jingling in her peripheral of not one but two life forms. Suppressing her presence she tracked that sensation down until she was able to determine the source of it. A smaller personal craft, a modified shuttle had landed among the brush and was easily hidden by the thick foliage. But the two individuals caught her off guard.

One man, that was largely expected, in his salvage gear, but along with him was a darkly clad female as well. The man was baring down on a knee before her as she observed the transaction. Seems this Sith was displeased with what had been recovered, the man pleading and saying that there was nothing left to be found of that nature, he’d tried, he’d checked. The earnest nature of his words betrayed his own fear, similar to his mother’s and yet that fear was much more palpable, survival was on the line. Perhaps for others as well.

A hand raised the shock that ravaged the man’s body sent horrible screams into the air that echoed off of the trees and rock faces, no doubt carrying into the valley of death. He might be working for this Sith in secret, but their mistreatment was expected and all consuming. As the threads connected, this woman would not stop, her displeasure seems to have reached its zenith.

With a grit of her jaw she emerged suddenly as the piercing yellow eyes lifted up in sudden surprise, breaking her focus on the torment she was delivering. An emerald saber coming to life as it demanded the Sith’s full attention now. "What!? Impossible!" The energy redirected at Kathea’s form, seeping into the copious wounds under her armor much to the delight of the irritated being.

As she struck the ground awkwardly from the sudden assault there was a feral growl that emerged, her ankle twisted already, a hinderance to her momentum as the Sith ignited her own saber and held it with that certainty and sinister pleasure of a bored nexu finding more than gizka to toy with. Now she had real prey. "Oh my, what have I been delivered. Some poor Jedi come to save this lost soul?" Flexing her hand as it rolled dismissively, approaching to keep the angles tight with her opponent as Kathea found her feet. "This one’s already mine, but killing you will be more than duty. It’ll be a pleasure." Licking her lips under her cowl.

Even with experience and the moment of surprise on her side the battle was far from easy. Lunging with the Force, accelerating their bodies, clashing with the sabers there was a din that filled the forest air as insects started to rise and illuminate the area in the sudden clash and energy. Kathea felt her suit rip and tear as the toxins that contaminated the attire seeped into fresh wounds, her head starting to pound with pressure as her body fought inside and out.

The Sith was in her prime, the fighting fresh she had plenty of vitriol to spill out onto her foe. "Another little hero come to die. Come here to save an unworthy life, look at you, shaking. What pathetic final moments you’ll have dear." When you’ve spent so many years in conflict for so long, losing more than you win, you know when the tide is going against you as she knew.

In her isolation she’d started to form a concept of the mirror, of retaliation. Taking in that seething point of destruction and finding the very point of the spear tip within the energy of her opponent. It was time to give it a test, she might not get more chances. Instead of turning her weapon to assault she focused on the next charge to deflect. It would have to expel the harm and open up the weakness hidden behind it.

The Sith’s howling laughter was twisted and wild. Footsteps slipping with an almost ethereal grace as the claws and teeth reached for the kill, as they reached for Kathea.

"Who else knows about this… deal, Connor?" Panting, managing to find her feet once more, though there was certainly a strain to it. Something pressing on her form and slowing her movements more than she’d realized even with her foe defeated.

"N-no one." Few words, but the shame dripped from his posture and tone. Hands shaking, he knew the reckoning would be upon him. That panic, that self loathing rising like an unforgiving tide, until her hand found his shoulder with a tender firmness. Grounding him to the moment, drawing him in to look to her.

"Then no one needs to know what transpired here today." Her words came evenly, resolute. A forgiving command to pierce the terror and allow him space to stand and breathe once more.

His expression would shatter as he grasped onto her side in a sudden hug that even took her aback. "I don’t- how- thank you. Thank you." He’d inadvertently press on a wound she’d sustained but she’d bear such for the moment as an arm fell about him to soothe him back down to sanity. Now they had a ship to take back, but she didn’t need another and would help him scrub the electronics and databases of their prior owner’s presence. It meant losing whatever information was on it, but she didn’t go chasing down every lead that existed. She didn’t have anywhere near the resources to.

It was only as they departed with Kathea heading to the pilot’s chair that Connor would turn and notice the reason for the area’s preservation. But too shocked to speak some things would remain secrets, just as his would be kept. Perhaps one day he’d tell his mother but as he was clasped in the embrace once more, that day need not be today, or so Kathea had said to him.

Thanks to the local cluster disruptions she’d occasionally get her comms connected the relays, but it helped to further distort her position. It was a small ease in her chest to know she could stay a bit longer and help to repair and stabilize at least some minor things on this forgotten world. A toxin concentrator would help with the eventual cleanup of the exclusion zone and served as a good small project for this week.

A former thread managed to reach her, a prior ally of hers, but there was a painful choice in its recognition. To reach back could endanger them or trap herself, but it was a vicious cycle. To be so alone, yearning so deeply to let them know she was alive, she was well in spite of everything. But too exhausted to decide for now, she’d sleep on it, as was her tendency. Avoid rushing any decisions since that only ever seemed to ever end in disaster. More fraught sleep to come.

The hesitation was correct, another hunter. Another who lies through his teeth speaking of frienship when all he wanted was to destroy her. The lights in the galaxy grew dimmer and dimmer…

But with her presence the faint rumor of a lone Jedi might spread, though before any could ever confront her about it, she would have already moved on. This was all she could do anymore to not stop and feel what was happening around her, the betrayals were a steady plunge into madness. Replaying the shot that struck Revan’s flagship over and over.

Each rise, check coordinates, frequencies, hone the body as much as time would allow, before taking a simple meal and looking out somewhere different once again.

Echohawk · January 1, 2024, 12:27am

Heart and Soul

The Force | Ambient Mix

With so many ventures endured, so many battles worn on her skin, such tasks accomplished it was at times an overwhelming thing when the hour grew quiet and the company grew most thin. To have survived thus far felt natural as much as it was unnatural, this impossible unconquered form that managed to heal most all of the damage dealt. What began as this tiny being chasing the whispers out of the void of space had become so much more.

Of course one might catch themselves going over the past as she was prone to doing. Finding those hours in the midst of the Throne that she called home, posting herself between the placed figures that adorned the pathway to the helm. Figures depicting a conquering male holding aloft the world that was his own, the challenging beasts of vile jaws, and finally the mystique of a female form obscured and indistinct. A roaming temple all her own of the dawn, the present day, the dusk of existence, of the Force in all its various presentations and machinations. Something she was forced to pass and experience with each stride to the helm. It had been a space to teach, an arena to duel, and a sanctum all her own.

Upon her mind had been the drive to understand the nature of the heart and being, the calling she’d felt driven by even before her allegiance to Revan, before the betrayal. She was not always the way she was so feared to be. There once was a heart so fearful and hidden that she seemed practically sheltered and carried by those around her, guided unto the pathways she’d accept in time. No matter the anguish, no matter the pain, no matter the forsaken or impossible nature of what she attempted to do there was always this core entity. Not of the Dark, not of the Light.

Taking the time now four sabers were laid about her in a fanned out ceremonial presentation. Icons of her prior achievements, of her bonds shared with others. From her first that was formed after she was saved by Revan on Kashyyyk’s shore and gifted the crystal to take as her own by his very hand. To the ancient great blade gifted unto her from clearing out Ragnos’ tomb of despoilers and fighting in unity along with her fellow Sith to best his spirit in a final test of combat, a powerful weapon that curiously no one else seemed to desire. To the regal blade once carried by Valerius, one of several parting gifts as her place among the Revanites was stripped, a shattering moment of being forced to turn away from her oaths in order to survive. To the newest creation formed as she endured anguish and faced her greatest foe, Malak, only to focus on saving a life rather than seeking destruction and vengeance, preserving the one who’d struck her face to grant her that now iconic scar.

Each had such marvelous stories to them, carried for their own length of time and serving their own purposes now. And while she would meditate on different ones on different cycles, this time it would be the final blade that awoke as it had most often done in the glade kept by the Jedi back on Viscara. A tender form of emerald wreathed in robes, an entity that resembled what she would imagine Valerius would have were he still a Jedi, certainly influenced by the fact that it was indeed a crystal he had given her alongside his own blade.

Normally her mediation was a placid thing, unmoving, silent to any would be observer. However, with the pressures that were mounting and afflicting her this stillness would evoke emotion out of nothingness as the body released that stress. Silent tears running rivers away from closed eyes as she cycled her breaths as she’d learned to do not with any purpose in mind. This however did not go unnoticed.

Approaching the essence of the kyber sat with her unseen as it had done many times in the past, though drawing closer behind and at her side. Where it had always been somewhat distant as a sacred company she could never touch, a memory she could never fully connect with, the essence took on an agenda of its own. Robed arms coming about Kathea, she had to restrain her senses from doing more than gasping out, fearing she might break the cycle. A tender shushing filled her ears and mind.

You’re on your last legs
You’re waiting for a sign instead of screaming out for help
You are one of those who would remain silent while you are in unbearable pain instead of asking or screaming for help
You have always been a beautiful soul that no one cared to listen to
To just listen

A sensation to calm her settled in, letting her draw more complete breaths once more. The worries billowing in as storm clouds and fog about them. Feeling everything was so ruined, how those she wanted to believe were friends now spurned and openly heaved their hatred at her with lies and tricks. The past pains in the Dark had made her so wary, and after opening her heart once more it seemed she only opened herself up to a wounded reality that sought to drive the knife deeper.

The pain of realization seemed to be what was distracting, slowing her down. Much as she yearned for her knowledge to be passed on, to impact the wrongs she witnessed, there was a helplessness against the vast tide of it all. Debating if she should have ever bothered to try in the first place. An exhale passing through her senses, a sensation of empathy.

I am just here to listen
To comfort
To protect
To guide
To shelter
To hold
To love
To hide

While she could never know for sure, she could swear there was a shuffle of robes as if her presence on the far flung places of the galaxy was not so lonely. That trail of tears along her face seemed dried. A soothing pressure of someone close to hold onto her, that gentle hand that rested on her head to allow her to lean. Being touched there had always brought her back to that alleyway in the moonlit night in Veles. A most dark and feared entity urging her softly, gently to find her own salvation, to seek a reality she could live in.

"It was from a time where I too stood in this position. Where I too pondered the realities of tomorrow and the days to come."

"No matter what you decide, I fight by your side."

Here again she was at the precipice of the galaxy, cursed to know the light that dwelled in the darkness, and the darkness that was hidden by the light. No matter who she could help, where she might roam, stop and pause this pressure would always persist. Bearing now the ache of a poisoned spirit and wounds of an unforgiving reality, she had to settle into the deepest point of her willpower. Allowing thoughts of surrender to pass through her mind and pass beyond. A destruction of the form most profound, stripping away all she’d ever done to ask herself that question.

"What is ahead for me?"

There was no clear answer, no sense of where to go, where she could thrive, or what purpose she had anymore. But just as it had been when the Jedi pinned her for hours under their fearful scrutiny, the strength, the flesh and bone all stripped away until the only thing that remained was this determination. It was not infinite however, she had to keep it alive, she had to nurture it too.

Waiting, working, seeking the Force evermore.