Bimmisaari's Open Terrain

Turning when, as I make my way back through the forest towards the small encampment I have made for myself, I hear the vessel bearing the twins lifting off, I watch it until it has disappeared from view, silently asking Ashla to watch over them. My efforts to heal Kaiya have left me physically weary, but the joy, lingering still, I had felt when working in concert with Ashla sustains me for the duration of the trip back to my camp, and even for a time afterwards.

When I reach my camp, situated beside a gentle stream, I consider simply entering my hut and sleeping; but I feel restless, and instead sit on the bank of the stream, resting my feet in the cool water as I tilt my head back to watch the stars. I know that one instance of being able to connect with Ashla does not mean that She will consider that my penance has been made, nor do I consider myself to have made a complete reconciliation; more time and penance will be required before I can believe that I have atoned for my transgression. The thought of my road to atonement now, unlike before, is more comforting than daunting; before I had been uncertain that the possibility of reconciliation existed, where I now feel that Ashla allowed my path to cross with that of the twins so that I would know that there is a chance I might successfully overcome the temptation to descend deeper into the Darkness my transgression has invited. I may never be worthy to be called a Jedi, but I know that while that prospect may be lost to me, in time, I may yet be able to reforge my relationship with Ashla, and be able to serve Her in whatever way She sees fit.

When, later, I enter my hut and lay down to sleep, the sleep that comes is free from dreams; the first peaceful sleep I have known since making the ill-fated journey here to Bimmisaarai.

(From here)

The ship settled down in to the clearing with very little trouble, though it was a slightly bumpier touch down than the admiral would have liked. Waking with Jade to the boarding ramp, he palmed it open.

-Z'har
Be careful out there.

As she was walking down the ramp, Z'har tossed her a small tube slightly smaller than a commlink.

-Z'har
A one-shot emergency beacon. Use it & I'll be able to find you anywhere within four light years.

He was hoping that she wouldn't have to use it. On the other hand, the first thing he was going to do after checking the hyperdrive was check the ship's gun again & see if he couldn't jury rig at least one shot out of it.

Jade slipped the emergency beacon into one of her belt pouches and headed off into the forest with a purposeful stride. Even though she had never set foot on the planet before, she knew where she was going: to the center of Serrin Roma's Force presence.

She didn't sense any overt threat to herself from the local flora and fauna. In fact, she was a bit surprised by how 'normal' the planet seemed to be. How could anything be normal with Serrin Roma turning her back on the Jedi Order?

Climbing over fallen trees, sidestepping around underbrush, wading through a stream all became mundane too quickly. Jade looked around, shrugged out of her voluminous black outer robe, folded it neatly and placed it near a crooked tree. She straightened and stretched out a kink that was forming in her lower back. The petite Jedi didn't often go without the anonymity her robe provided, but under the circumstances, being a Jedi was not something she was going to hide or disguise in any fashion.

Once again, she felt the betrayal and anger bubbling just under the surface and it took an effort to keep it there.

Eventually, she knew she was almost at her goal. Stepping around a large tree she found herself at the edge of a small clearing. On the other side she could see what appeared to be a reasonably comfortable rustic hut, and the creek filled the place with the laughing sounds of water in jarring contrast with her feelings.

When I finally saw the one who insisted I could be a Jedi, who hoped in me constantly, who finally drew me to Corellia, I actually felt ill, as if someone had knocked all the wind out of me. In a way, seeing her lekku draped sadly down her back I thought to myself for the first time how fragile she looked, curled up on the ground, meditating, completely vulnerable. Unless it was a trick...

Jade took a few steps forward, placing herself decidedly within the clearing. She did not have to resort to stepping on a fallen branch to attract the Twi'Lek's attention. Instead, she cleared her throat and addressed her. If Serrin looked around, she'd find a pair of green eyes focused upon her, close to boring holes in the back of her head if such a thing had been possible.

~All the things I had thought to say to her, all the carefully rehearsed pleadings, recriminations, everything...disappeared in an instant, and only one thing came to mind.~

"So, you are alive then."

All the things I had been wanting to tell Serrin, all the recriminations and angry words I had been rehearsing throughout the flight from Corellia to Bimmisaari, all the betrayal, hurt, and abandonment subside for the moment as I saw her shoulder slump. More than that, her very lekku seemed broken, sad. I realized that if I said what I had intended to say, I would be kicking something that couldn't fight back, indeed, someone that didn't have the strength of will to want to fight back. I did not forget my anger, but I let it sit by the path for a moment. And with a rueful, grin I found myself speaking.

"Yes...well, I've never been a good listener," she drawled back calmly, willing the Twi'Lek to turn around and face her. "If I was, I wouldn't be here. I'd probably be dead." Both things were true. In fact, she would never have met Serrin in the first place, much less joined the Jedi Order. But, she'd been too stubborn and too much of a fighter to simply turn her face to the wall and die. "I seem to recall a persistent Twi'Lek that would not take 'no' for an answer---sound familiar?"

"You might as well get up, Serrin," I smiled at her back in what I intended to be a friendly-ish fashion, but I suspected it would look more like a grimace, as I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot on the ground. "You know I'm not going to simply go away, however much that might make your self-imposed exile more comfortable."

Not that she could have left anyway. From what she'd seen of the ship's innards, Z'har would be busy getting it flightworthy for at least twenty-four hours.

~How dare she take the moral high ground in such a fashion after what she has done? Abandoning her post. The lightest words would regard a dereliction of duty. And yet now she has placed me in the position of aggressor with herself as victim!~ Such were my thoughts even as I reached out to steady her in case she should fall.

The shorter woman's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the Twi'Lek's countenance. Her skin seemed paler, an unhealthy shade of yellow contrasted with her normally sunny visage. Ael reached into one of her belt pouches and withdrew an emergency ration pill which she then offered to her companion. "Starving yourself will not make amends, Serrin," she observed in a casually mild tone.

I watched Serrin closely for longer than she was probably comfortable with. Sometimes it was like looking at the ghost of the woman I had once known. I wondered why she was so meekly asking for judgment. And then something in her eyes made me realize that she was fighting to get out. She thought she was fallen as a Jedi, and she thought there was no way back. Perhaps she even thought she was going to join the Sith.

Jade cleared her throat and drew herself up to her full height, which brought her maybe to Serrin's chin. "Closure?" she challenged. "Life is messy, Serrin, there aren't neat endings and well thought out developments. We play the hand of sabacc that we've been dealt. This, whatever, this, is," I waved my hand towards her, taking in her slumped attitude and lifeless demeanour, "is not you. We all make mistakes. The stronger we are, the worse the mistakes. This galaxy is old, Serrin Roma, older and vastly bigger than either of us. But, in spite of that, you think you are no longer a Jedi... what are you then, a Sith?" she sniffed dismissively.

"Aye, we all look further into that blackness than we'd care to admit," she continued ruefully, "but if you're telling me you're following a Darker path, a path that is so against everything that Serrin Roma is at her core. Well, you'll have to prove that. And there's only one way you can."

For a moment, I thought of handing her Eirene, but there was a much better option. I gave her the result of a mistake I had once made, a mistake that led to the death of a friend. A mistake that led to the ultimate meeting of Jedi and Sith, where only one walked away.

Jade's green eyes glittered as she reached for the lightsaber clipped to the left side of her belt. The hilt was longer than normal, but not anywhere near the length of a double-bladed weapon. Burn marks were cut too deeply into the metal to fade into scars. It had belonged to one of her closest friends, years earlier, almost an adopted brother. The metal felt cool to her hand as she held it out to Serrin, never once looking away from her. "Take it, cut me down, and prove that you are no longer Jedi, Serrin."

I felt oddly detached, at peace even, though I could not say what she would choose. It was like standing on the edge of the storm and looking into the face of death, and in that moment, I found myself wondering what lay on the other side.

Jade was glad that Serrin wasn't looking at her for the moment, she knew her old friend would've seen the pain in her own eyes as something deep inside her soul broke just a bit further. Their roles had switched dramatically in the space of months, even perhaps just hours. Always before it had been Serrin who was stronger, Serrin who kept encouraging Ael when she felt that the way of the Jedi was not for her---her experience and background were just too different. And now, it was Serrin who was in need of help.

I knew full well the choice wasn't simply 'Jedi' or 'Sith' as if they were the only two philosophical possibilities in the universe, but I felt that for Serrin the stark contrast might be enough to make her see how much of a Jedi she truly still is. As Serrin looked up and her surprised gaze slipped past my shoulder, I felt a sudden urge to turn. But I didn't, knowing that whatever she saw, was there only for her.

The petite Jedi's eyes clouded with sadness. There was something pathetic in the way Serrin seemed so hopeful, and yet so convinced that she had managed to fall so far away from the Light. Twice she opened her lips as if to speak, and both times thought better of it. Silently she'd replaced the lightsaber at her belt. And as Serrin's voice finally broke, she instinctively did the only thing that occurred to her: she stepped closer and pulled the woman into a close embrace. She carefully avoided contact with either of her lekku however, and just held her old friend, willing her to feel her own acceptance of her.

"Serrin," she finally interjected, in a voice that sounded vaguely rough as if through sheer willpower alone she refused to shed a tear herself, "you are the same person you have always been: caring, gentle. It is not Ashla who keeps you from returning. She has been there all along, waiting for you to accept who you are, the experiences you've had, and make the decision to keep on being yourself." The older woman hesitated. These kinds of speeches had never been her forte. It was so much easier to care about someone without talking about it. "You are missed, and more than that, you are needed. Whatever it is that you have done, others have faced similar things and made similar choices. There is nothing about you that says you should remain in exile when so many others have returned to the Light stronger than they were before." She found herself gently stroking the Twi'Lek's back as if she were a child in desperate need of comfort, and with a final hug, she released the taller woman and stepped back half a pace.

"Never forget, old friend, you are Serrin Roma, Jedi," her green eyes twinkled with a friendly smile, "not Jedi, Serrin Roma."