Zuli Madoon
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Post by Zuli Madoon on Sept 3, 2013 6:58:30 GMT -8
Zuli slung the stun cuffs back to the Corporal and stepped to the side, blocking off the door. His massive armored torso almost completely filled the doorway as he gestured towards the wall with his left hand. Zuli's right had unclipped one of his Lightclubs and now held it down and to one side, emitter pointing away from his comrades. The Jedi Master's thumb rested over the activation switch..
What did this woman have to hide? After the captain's 'compliance', this one was clearly a lot less capable of hiding her true thoughts and feelings. The Jedi Master knew something was definitely amiss with the Praxeum's visitors now..
"Hands on the wall, nice and easy.." Zuli's deep, bassy voice boomed as he moved.. "I won't ask again.."
It was doubtful that the two soon to be detainees had heard of Zuli, but the Jedi Master wasn't one to draw his weapon unless he intended on using it..
He'd take no risks in the current situation..
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Post by Kirith Aridigo on Sept 4, 2013 15:05:39 GMT -8
Kirith resisted the urge to swear as Sid made a move towards the door. Her lips pursed into a thin line, which she did her best to hide from the others, her mind racing. So much for trying to seem accommodating to local Jedi police force. The tall Jedi by the door didn't seem particularly thrilled by Sid's response, and as he began to pull out his weapons, Kirith found herself concerned that he may feel the need to use them. She had seen enough law enforcement officers quickly transition from reasonable-seeming upholders of the peace to resorting to unnecessary levels of violence if they thought someone was pushing back just a little to hard. While she had seen Sid take on several troopers in the past, she doubted Sid and herself could stand a chance against the group of men outside the door. Not if at least two of them were Jedi.
Not to mention, she added to herself, my lightsaber is still back on the Cat. Not that I'm that good with it. Plus I kinda gave him my blaster. And then we would have to actually fight through all of them to get to my ship - and who knows what they did to get inside her ...
Right, so physical confrontation was to be avoided, preferably.
Which left reason.
"Look, Sid," said Kirith, looking over at her friend, her hands still above her head. "As far as I've been able to tell, they're not formally charging us with anything. They're arresting us with the desire to question. Unless they want to go into the murky legal and moral grounds about holding two women indefinitely without a formal, detailed legal charges - which they have yet to give - they have to release us within 24 hours."
She jerked her head towards Zuli. "And since Mr. Tall and Lightclubby over there - sorry, I don't actually know your name - won't tell us what he found, likely he has nothing."
"Besides," she added, smiling at Zuli. "Everything I have told you is the truth. So, if you Jedi are as moral as claim to be, we have nothing to fear."
If any of the Jedi had reached out sense the truth of that statement, they would only be confronted a complete belief in the fact that everything she had said was true.
Because, it was.
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Sept 5, 2013 14:04:39 GMT -8
As the tall Jedi Master unclipped his Lightsaber, Alex too pressed the stock of his Anti-personnel weapon into his shoulder, lifting the barrel just shy of firing position. Through gritted teeth and a heavy frown, he pleaded silently still that they'd do things the easy way. He couldn't get his head around the situation - surely it was clear that they were in a very serious situation. Surely Zuli had made it clear that they couldn't just bluster their way out of this. Surely anyone with any sense would know that the only way this ended well for the two women was if they acquiesced to the Jedi's demands and came along quietly?
Every muscle in the Marine's arms were tensed. His lips were pressed thinly together, his sharp eye - sharper, by far, than most people you were ever likely to meet - locked firmly on Sidara, with Kirith also very much in his field of vision. The cuffs dangled, swinging rhythmically from his left hand as one end of them was clenched between his palm and the forward grip of his blaster.
Aridigo seemed to be the reasonable one here. But if this Sidara didn't back down pronto, all the reasoning in the world from the other woman wouldn't do them any good. They were just a step or two shy of resisting arrest, and with everything as serious and tense as it was within the Praxeum, no-one could take any chances.
=Corporal Alex Owains=
"I'd advise you to do as your friend suggests, miss. Both of you. I don't think either of you are quite realising the scope of the trouble you could be in, and believe me when I say it'll get a lot worse for you if you don't do as instructed."
His arms were solid, his gaze unwavering. His eyes didn't flick even for a second from Sidara Vercopa. He wasn't trigger happy, at all. He wasn't a particularly emotional or violent minded individual. His job, his speciality, relied on keeping his cool, on endless patience. The trigger wouldn't be squeezed until they had crossed the line. But he'd be damned if he was giving either of them even half a chance to get the drop on them.
Cautiousness, and calculated tactical response, was also a key part of his job.
=Corporal Alex Owains=
"You want to insist on your innocence, fine. You want to be upset about this, that's fine too. But I can tell you for certain, one way or another we'll be talking to you about it down in the detention cells. The decision that rests with you is whether you come willingly, or you try your luck against a couple of Jedi and the barrel of my blaster. I don't know how you fancy your chances with option two, but I wouldn't take the risk if I was in your shoes."
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Caoimhin Shan
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Post by Caoimhin Shan on Sept 7, 2013 19:57:33 GMT -8
He turned his head back towards the two detainees in time to 'hear' the voice in Caoimhin's head call out to him..The Armored Jedi Titan's head span back around to look at Cao, a confused look spread across his face, brought on by the strange voice he heard..You occupy the mind of a trusted friend and expect me to accept your word that there is more dangerous presence here than your own..?Zuli's thoughts trickled out through The Force into Cao's mind..
Cao let his attention drift for a moment into his mindscape, dragging the darkness out of hiding and to the forefront.
What have you been doing?
Making a public service announcement.
Haha. Who here is more dangerous than you, huh?
You don't know Kirith like I do.
Actually, with your memories, I do..
Before Vilus could respond, the woman known as "Sidara" began speaking and making it very clear that she wanted no part in 'coming quietly,' as it were. Cao's focus returned to the here and now, and his left hand shot out by his side, the flick of his wrist triggering the mechanism in his sleeve and launching the hilt of his shoto into his waiting palm. He didn't respond to Sidara's words, allowing Zuli, Corporal Owains, and the silver glint of his weapon to do that for him; though his heterochromatic eyes darted to and fixated on Sidara, his next words were directed towards Kirith.
"Of course it's the truth. From a certain point of view. I know you better than that, Kirith."
His next words were muttered under his breath.
"I always said you would make a great politician..."
With Cao's attention focused on the foolishly aggressive woman, Vilus returned his focus to Zuli.
<< Kirith was my trusted friend, and yet even I fear what she harbours in her mind. Take this warning how you will, jetii. There's more to her than meets the eye. >>
With that concluded, Vilus focused once more on the retreating Other in Kirith's head.
Do not think that you have seen me for the last time, Kirat. We have plenty of time ahead of us while you are incarcerated. |
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Sidara Vercopa
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Post by Sidara Vercopa on Sept 10, 2013 16:23:33 GMT -8
Kirith resisted the urge to swear as Sid made a move towards the door. Her lips pursed into a thin line, which she did her best to hide from the others, her mind racing. So much for trying to seem accommodating to local Jedi police force. The tall Jedi by the door didn't seem particularly thrilled by Sid's response, and as he began to pull out his weapons, Kirith found herself concerned that he may feel the need to use them. She had seen enough law enforcement officers quickly transition from reasonable-seeming upholders of the peace to resorting to unnecessary levels of violence if they thought someone was pushing back just a little to hard. While she had seen Sid take on several troopers in the past, she doubted Sid and herself could stand a chance against the group of men outside the door. Not if at least two of them were Jedi.Not to mention, she added to herself, my lightsaber is still back on the Cat. Not that I'm that good with it. Plus I kinda gave him my blaster. And then we would have to actually fight through all of them to get to my ship - and who knows what they did to get inside her ...Right, so physical confrontation was to be avoided, preferably.
Which left reason. "Look, Sid," said Kirith, looking over at her friend, her hands still above her head. "As far as I've been able to tell, they're not formally charging us with anything. They're arresting us with the desire to question. Unless they want to go into the murky legal and moral grounds about holding two women indefinitely without a formal, detailed legal charges - which they have yet to give - they have to release us within 24 hours." She jerked her head towards Zuli. "And since Mr. Tall and Lightclubby over there - sorry, I don't actually know your name - won't tell us what he found, likely he has nothing." "Besides," she added, smiling at Zuli. "Everything I have told you is the truth. So, if you Jedi are as moral as claim to be, we have nothing to fear." If any of the Jedi had reached out sense the truth of that statement, they would only be confronted a complete belief in the fact that everything she had said was true. Because, it was.
Fine. They can question us. It's a waste of time if you ask me. Sounds like they'd be better served with people doing real damage instead of the two of us on a beer crawl. But whatever, what do I know? She retreated from the door and took her place next to Kirith. She gave her the "I hope you know what you are doing." look. Her armor was hidden in Cat. It would definitely give them away, as it was very unique to Corr's clan and the fact that she was Mandalorian. If they found it, Sid and Kirith could be looking at an extended stay with the Jedi.
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Dav Man'Sell
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Post by Dav Man'Sell on Sept 11, 2013 2:17:21 GMT -8
Alex exhaled, suddenly aware that he'd been holding his breath for the past couple of tense seconds, and as Sidara did, at last, as instructed, lowered his weapon from its ready position. Thumbing the safety on, he brought the weapon around behind his back and attached it to the coupling plate on the back of his armour, securing it there. Giving a glance to Zuli and Cao - one full of the relief he was sure they were all feeling - he stepped forward, and gently took each woman's arms and secured them behind their backs in the security cuffs.
=Corporal Alex Owains=
"These are just standard protocol. Nothing personal, you understand."
He fastened the cuffs, then stepped back, and nodded to the Jedi giant to let him know that the cuffs were secure. The next move was with Zuli; Alex, meanwhile, had a call to put in, lifting his hand to the comm unit on the side of his helmet, tapping it to life.
=Corporal Alex Owains=
"Control, this is Ay-em-one-ay-tree. Captain Aridigo and Miss Vercopa secured, we are en route to detention area now. If you could have them prepare two singles, we'd appreciate it. Over."
The Corporal received the reply, which only he would be able to hear, signalling that two adjacent individual cells - cells three and four - would be ready to receive the two women by the time they arrived. He looked to the venerable Jedi Master in their midsts again, waiting for him to lead them out.
The old diary's in for one heck of an entry today...
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Zuli Madoon
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Finally got a post done! Yay for me! LOL
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Post by Zuli Madoon on Sept 11, 2013 11:52:31 GMT -8
The Jedi Master plucked the stun cuff remote from the Corporal's belt as the man stepped forward and restrained the women. He was right, it was a precautionary measure, following this arrest protocol. These potential Mandalorian moles would be treated with respect and in a dignified manner as long as they complied. Zuli was willing to utilize the stun function of the cuffs and carry their unconscious bodies in a most undignified manner down to the detention block..
Hopefully it wouldn't come to that..
The Armored Jedi Titan took a step backwards, out of the doorway and cleared the pathway. He gestured towards the turbolifts and awaited Cao, Owains and the detainees departure. Once they were on their way, Zuli would maintain a distance a few feet behind, cuff remote held safely in his hand..
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Jago
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Post by Jago on Nov 4, 2013 16:50:13 GMT -8
Night Two
~ His room was quiet, deprived of the powerful emotions that had circulated throughout the small domicile over the past few days. It felt ... Strange, being here. Without her. She had turned down his invitation almost too quickly, and though she had alleviated the blow with a tenderness that he almost had not expected, it still pained him to see her depart so quickly. Whatever she was up to must have been important to her. That was good enough for him.
Jago left the lights off as he set his flight helmet down on the bedstand, letting his fingers brush gently over the crack that had appeared in it. A sure-fire death if the plasteel armor had not been in the way. Silently, he thanked his own luck that the blow had only been debilitating. Debilitating enough, though, he recalled with a muted scowl at the thought of his own injury costing a pilot her life. She had been brave, so very brave to take the shot meant for him. Why, he wondered? Why had she sacrificed herself for him? She could have dodged, she could have done a million and one things to get out of the way and let him bit the bullet.
Soldiers were not supposed to die for Jedi. Jedi were supposed to die for soldiers.
He banished the train of thought from his mind, shaking his head briefly before reaching to his hip and undoing the folded leather that sat over his holster. Nestled inside the handmade cradle was his lightsaber, removed with delicate fingers and inspected under his gaze as he folded his knees under him, resting on the floor.
A peculiar thing, the lightsaber. A blade with no edge that could cut through almost anything. A weapon. A tool. A symbol. Each one a loving work of art meant to adhere to the builder’s own ideals and philosophies. He thought of Dav Man’sell’s weapons, reflecting an older style seen around the time of the Clone Wars and just after. They were worn, but yet had aged with the grace of fine wine, their sheen all the more brilliant despite their archaic blueprints. He considered Lita’s saberstaff, a blackened weapon for the woman he described herself as his shadow. Crafted whilst in the throes of The Dark Side, yet still with the touch of an Iridonian visible in the tapering of her jagged emitter shrouds. A sword that had burned blood red before the fire was extinguished, slipping into the smokey vapor it glowed as now.
And then there was his. Built on Osarian, in the peaceful stillness near Lake Connor, after the destruction of his previous blade at the hands of his former Padawan. The metal was dark, burnished: an ancient bronzium that carried with it a shine that at once diminished light that struck its smooth curves and yet seemed to radiate elegance in the simplicity of its construction. A damaged crystal sat in its heart: the perfect companion to its wielder. It was beautifully flawed: impure and unstable in its ignited form, yet the sage mint color was so vibrant that Jago had almost sworn he could see the swirl of The Force itself in the hue.
Jago set the piece down on the ground before procuring another item from his pocket: a small, round piece of Electrum bequeathed to him by Lita Trykk. A piercing of hers, given when he asked without the need to explain why. It was touching to him, that such a personal item would be handed over simply because he had wanted it. His thumbpad graced over the brilliant metal slowly, feeling its shape. From spending so much time in contact with The Daughter Of Iridonia, Jago could feel her Force Presence etched into the stud as if it had been engraved in with the delicate care of a goldsmith over the course of many years, chiseled into the jewelry with the scratchings of a pin until they looked to be natural.
A token of hers, he had asked for. This, this would be perfect.
Jago set this, too, besides his hilt and then rested his palms upon his thighs, letting his eyes close and his mind open.
The Jedi Master was able to feel the lightsaber in his invisible hand: he knew every inch of the heavy metal, the weight of it in his palm and how delicate knicks and cuts had tarnished its appearance over only a few years of use.
It was the blade he had used to stand against Darth Archais. Lord Sinistra. Powerful Sith and villians of every make and mark. Much like its Owner, the sword carried the damage from such excursions, yet retained its heart. That unstable Nextor crystal refused to quit, much as he would refuse to yield, ever.
Slowly, the casing came off as the hilt was suspended before him in the air, rotating gently as the ebb and flow of The Force glided over the piece. The innards were exposed: a mix of Jedi secrecy and scientific advancement hidden inside such a small thing. Governments and madmen had created weapons thousands of times the size of this old weapon, and yet not even the most industrious or cleverest minds could forge the sword that had saved and ruined The Galaxy a hundred times over. The Lightsaber was war. It was peace. It was rage and harmony combined. The duality that rested in those crystal cores was the perfect representation of the duality in Jedi themselves. Warriors for the end of Wars. It was not an easy path. Never was.
The electrum bit rose now, too, joining the saber as well. The activation stud was released, floating away from the assembly until it drifted lazily through the air with Lita’s jewelry. Duality, it seemed, had never seen a more apt vessel than Lita Trykk. Zabrak Honor mixed with the Fury of a Sith, now being tempered by the Serenity of a Jedi. All of that, her personal spirit, rested inside this stud that hung before his shut eyes, the polish giving off its own appearance in The Force as a shrouded candle. Lit, but not yet ablaze.
Jago was about to set it on fire.
The Master reached out his hand, letting a finger touch lightly upon the shimmering metal, far brighter than those used in the casing for his hilt. The contact of flesh and electrum seemed to send a spark through his hand, a jolt making the muscles tense sharply. He could feel her as if she were in the room with him again, leaning over him and guiding his craft, showing him exactly how to press the piece to the flat, solid button of the saber’s activation stud. The way to keep it in place as she slid around him to the front, her fingers curling into his dried mane and bringing back its soft volume as was characteristic of the white-haired-wonder. The flame of her kiss upon his mouth, sending heat through The Force as much as his body, the passionate energy directed into the electrum and blinding the room with a sudden, intense flash of hot light.
He gave himself a moment to cool as her spiritual presence left him with a reassuring touch on the shoulder, letting Jago know she’d be here, always be here no matter what. Distance, time, these concepts could not keep them separated in the past and they wouldn’t do so now. As the hilt reconstructed itself under his careful guidance, Jago could feel the distinguished change in his weapon, now marked with the familiarity it had been lacking recently.
His eyes opened.
Before him sat the lightsaber, now back on the ground. Lita’s piercing was in place just over where he would push to ignite the saber, a seamless weld fastening it in that it might never be removed until the weapon itself was broken.
Satisfied, Jago grasped it from the floor, letting his eyes run over the details yet again. A Jedi’s weapon was not their life, no, but they were quite a remarkable story in and of themselves. Each could tell the history of its owner, and here was Jago’s, laid bare to all who studied its intricate craftsmanship. With a soft smile, he let his fingers brush over the new addition, and felt all the more soothed by its presence.
There was no noise in the Jungle this night. No alarms and no sounds of battle. For the first time since the invasion of Yavin IV, the moon was ... peaceful.
It had been a long day.
Carefully tucking the hilt back into its holster, Jago collapsed upon his bed, the last exertion of energy through controlling the mystic flows of The Universe leaving him drained.
Sleep was calling, and welcomed. When his eyes finally shut, his hand was resting over the leather strap on his outer thigh, leaving a warming sensation spreading across his skin.
She was here with him. ~ |
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2014 19:54:41 GMT -8
The room smelled musty and damp, it looked musty and damp, and to Mike, it felt like home. He hadn't realized that one of the perks of promotion to Knighthood would be a room to himself whenever he stayed in a temple for more than a few nights. It had come as a shock at first, because at the temple he grew up in, padawans always shared rooms. The younglings were bunked up to ten in a room until they turned 8, when they were afforded a little more privacy in 4 man rooms. When they turned twelve, they moved into two man rooms, pair with another apprentice who had a master. He had spent so long listening to the sound of other people breathing at night that it took some getting used to, being by himself. (His roommate from age 12 on up always joked that he had a room to himself most days anyway, because Mike was invisible.)
Still, he had gotten used to it as he shuffled around the galaxy from temple to temple and digsite to digsite, having a place to stay for the night. This was another first for him, though. This was HIS ROOM. His own, permanent, honest to Force room. Not a temporary accommodation, no sir. This was his. He quickly set about making it seem more like his.
The bookshelves he had ordered were in place, and were quickly stocked with what he had on hand. More were brought in as the hold of the Lawn Dart was opened and his things were brought it. In olden times, the thought of a Jedi with possessions would have been an affront to something or another, but these days, it was par for the course. Research material, texts of all shapes and sizes and in a multitude of languages, his toolkit for the lightsaber, his toolkit for the his blasters, crates upon crates of holopads, and of course the top of the line holoprojector that was so vital to his work.
All of this was meticulously organized. There was a place for everything, and everything went in its place. The desk in particular was a work of art. From the chair, one could easily reach either bookshelf without getting up (no one ever said it was a very big room,) or grab the blaster rifle off the wall above the desk, or the pistol that was stashed on the underside, or the neatly stacked crates (which were designed to be interlocked and neatly stacked) that contained the several hundred datapads on everything from Dagobah's last ice age to the cannibalistic tribes of early Gungans.
The pièce de résistance was the holoprojector, hung from the ceiling like a chandelier, that could easily fill the entire room with high definition imagery, or could be focused to an output spot so small that it was naked to the human eye. It was a high-end Verpine model, given to him as a gift from an archaeological guild. They felt really bad about him taking an arrow to the gut on one of their sponsored expeditions.
Almost as an afterthought, tucked up against the only clear section of wall, was a cot. It wasn't a cozy cot, but that was fine by Mike. He didn't like sleeping on cozy beds. He always woke up feeling muddy and dull. A cot though, that kept him sharp. Plus, his room was tiny, the cot was tiny, and it wasn't like he was planning on sharing it with anyone anyway.
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 22, 2014 11:29:35 GMT -8
Several hours after Mike had left Alexis and Nathan in the hangar, Alexis wandered through the residential level till she found the room he'd set up camp in. Instead of doing any of the normal 'Jedi' things, she stopped out his door, bit her lip uncertainly, and finally just knocked.
She'd been glad and relieved even to see him earlier, refreshingly the same among everything else that had changed. Nathan's appearance and state of mind had shocked her and left her feeling rattled. And on top of all that, there was Ander. She didn't know what to say to Mike, but she wanted to talk to a friend just the same. He'd warned her and she had chosen not to listen. Well, she could have argued circumstances, but she felt that was the coward's way out. Regardless, she was not feeling great at the moment, and even wondering how old fighters had managed to escape the predations of the Jawas on Tattooine for many years couldn't snap her out of that. She wondered if this was sort of what it like to be marched out in front of a firing squad.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2014 12:07:40 GMT -8
The knock wasn't unexpected. Mike was meditating at the time, trying to find his center in this new environment, and he had flt her presence, and her trepidation, from a good ways off. Alexis's presence was off, discombobulated by recent events. She was still reeling from Dav's death, and something had quite recently taken her spirit and shaken the shit out of it, possibly before pouring it over ice and serving in a fancy glass.
That didn't mean he wasn't happy to see her. Just the opposite, in fact. It had been a few months since they last parted ways, and going back to spending his days isolated hadn't done the archaeologically inclined young Jedi any favors.
So she knocked, and he answered. He invited her in, wordlessly, and offered her the room's one chair while he sat cross-legged on the neatly made cot.
"So," he said. "You feel like ten miles of bad road."
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 23, 2014 9:35:55 GMT -8
"That bad, huh?" Alexis replied as she accepted his invitation and sat down beside his desk, careful not to trip over anything. His room was well organized and had a semi-mind-boggling array of 'stuff' inside, but it worked much better than she would have been able to imagine if she had tried a similar thing. Actually, she didn't have many possessions, and her x-wing generally stayed in the hangar instead of her sleeping space. She crossed her right leg over her left and folded her hands on top of her knee. She didn't take up much space, simultaneously feeling both old beyond her years and like a child waiting to be scolded. It was not a pleasant feeling.
"You look pretty well settled in here," she said quietly, hoping it meant he wasn't just going to leave with no warning. It was really nice to know that people tended to be around if one needed or wanted to talk to them, and it was a feeling that she didn't really have a lot of experience with. Alexis shifted the subject slightly, with a rueful smile, "I guess the fact that you managed to get here in one piece means you didn't forget everything I showed you. Exiting hyperspace aft over bow and being around to talk about it afterward is promising."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 12:45:21 GMT -8
Mike grinned wryly.
"Yeah, it's pretty gnarly. I guess a lot has happened since the flying lessons."
In a way, the young Knight was still halfway in his meditative state. He was seeing the room, but he was also feeling it and the people around him. His presence, he knew, was likely to resemble its surroundings so strongly that it was highly unlikely that anyone who hadn't been taught how to spot it would even realize Mike was in the room. Fortunately, Alexis had been given a crash course while she was giving him the course on not crashing.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to be here for a while. If it weren't for your emergency drills, I'd probably have plowed into Yavin itself. My happy little self is going to stay right the hell were it belongs for the foreseeable future: on the ground. There are enough temples around here to keep me busy for months."
The equipment in the now-dead freighter's cargo hold has going to come in handy for that. There were rumors that some of the ruins were pretty dark places, and Mike still had nightmares about that tunnel on Roon, filled with glowing red eyes.
"Enough about me. What's up with you, Alexis?"
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 23, 2014 13:01:14 GMT -8
"We can work on that, if you like," she offered, with what she hoped was a good appearance of nonchalance. She doubted he would ever be an x-wing pilot, but at least she could help him not kill himself (or anyone else) in routine travel between planets.
"Yavin doesn't really need any more war scars right now, and it wouldn't have looked good on your record. 'Jedi Knight Mike Hamish, deceased due to impact with the Jedi Praxeum on Yavin at high speed while impersonating a meteor---'" she broke off, finally looking up at him with the ghost of a smile curving her thin lips.
Roon. Now that had been interesting and terrifying all at the same time. He didn't seem to be incredibly disappointed over the failure of their expedition, but their departure from Roon had left Alexis feeling dissatisfied. She hated leaving things undone. Though, the fact that they had all escaped with their lives had been a definite plus. "If you need someone to hold a light for you, I could stand a bit of exploration. I don't think I'm claustrophobic."
Generally this was probably the case. But there was a big difference between spending hours of time in a cramped cockpit and being in tight places under the surface of a planet. In the former, the vast emptiness of space was around one. In the latter, well, some people went insane underground. But, she didn't think she'd run much risk of that in exploring old temples with Mike, if (and that was a big 'if') he even wanted her company after he found out more about her. She knew he'd tried to warn her, but she had not listened, not until it was way too late.
"Trying to keep it together," she hesitated, "and failing, according to you." Slim shoulders shrugged eloquently.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 13:14:11 GMT -8
"There's a difference between having a rough time and not holding together," Mike said, trying not to frown. "You have that pilot's sense of unflappability about you. The world can be going to hell, you can be scared and hurt and confused, but you're still in control. Seriously, that's badass. I'd have you at my back any day."
He tossed her a datapad. It was his after action report from Roon, and if she read to the personnel evaluation, she would see that he had recommended she be considered for Knighthood. She had remained cool, calm, and collected in the face of what could have been a horribly painful death, and had navigated one of the most tricky areas in known space with ease. If the council didn't let her challenge the trials soon, he'd probably end up giving them a piece of his mind.
"That, however, doesn't mean you have to deal with everything yourself. I get the distinct impression that you've got something you don't necessarily want to talk about, but probably need to."
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 23, 2014 13:39:48 GMT -8
"Thanks," Alexis gulped past the lump that had materialized in her throat and threatened to choke her, as she reached out and took the datapad, skimming through his report. She felt herself blinking back stinging tears, sad, tired, ashamed, and furious that Mike would of course be the person around to see her in this state.
~Mike thinks I'd be a good knight~ the thought flickered through my mind. I knew I couldn't pretend to keep reading this succinct report for much longer, but I still stretched it out.
Finally, she handed the datapad back to him, with a rueful smile. "At least I know how to stay on a laser cannon, right?" referring back to their run-in with an exorbitant number of man-hack droids in a corridor to a facility that was supposed to be abandoned on Roon.
~Kriffin' hell~
Despite Mike's rather clumsy appearance in her life, having tripped over a hydrospanner and bloodied his nose underneath her x-wing while she was touching up the paint in a hangar on Honoghr, he'd since then demonstrated an unnerving ability to see through her that already rivaled Dav, even though she'd had a close Force Bond with her former Master.
Finally, she leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulder as she pulled a silver lightsaber hilt from her left boot and straightened up, holding it out to him. The hilt was covered with flowing, detailed decorative etchings, and the blade was a deep, vibrant green. It had been a bit lighter when she had first been given it, but in the following weeks it had become darker. She wanted to ask Mike about that, but it was not the main point of this. "I guess so."
She took a deep breath, settling nervously into the chair she occupied.
"It used to be Ander Tagira's," she explained, pausing to inquire, "you know he founded this Praxeum originally right? After Yavin was abandoned when the Jedi Order moved back to Coruscant..."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 14:09:44 GMT -8
Mike took the saber and examined it. Decent build, balance a little off for his hand, but it hadn't been built for his hand. Even the most crude of lightsabers is a prime example of bespoke machinery. He wasn't a fan of the etchings, as they could affect the handling characteristics, but there was no accounting for taste.
"I've heard the name. He left the Jedi and founded some crackpot mercenary group that tried to side with the Mandos and then pretend like that never happened, right?"
He handed the saber back. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.
"Since he's here and you're here, I'm guessing he gave this to you voluntarily."
Whatever had transpired between the two, Mike sensed that Alexis had come to regret the interaction. Or maybe she was ashamed, or afraid he'd be mad at her, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out why she'd think he would be.
He offered the padawan his best reassuring smile.
"How'd that work out for you?"
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 23, 2014 18:53:52 GMT -8
Alexis slid the lightsaber back into her boot after eyeing it for a moment. She shrugged noncommittally at his words.
"He was once a great Jedi, although his path led him away---"
She didn't know all the details, but she knew he had not willingly left the Praxeum. Still, she couldn't help feeling honored by his opinion of her as a Jedi, though the later developments had soured that recollection a bit over time. Alexis frowned, uncertain how to say what she knew she'd eventually have to.
"He and Dav were close friends. I found him aboard the Basterd's Hand orbiting Contruum after I left Honoghr." This was after she, Mike, and Kaelan had returned from Roon and parted company. "Anyway, I was not expecting the lightsaber thing. He thinks that since I'm the last of the true Yavinites I'm destined to rebuild this Praxeum...and that Dav is still here because of me."
None of it sounded good when spoken aloud. But, she'd be lying if she said that she hadn't valued his words to some degree. Both of them had been mourning a friend.
"I'm sorry if this is rambling a bit, Mike," she looked up at him for a moment, silently asking him to bear with her, "I guess I lost myself in regret. When Nathan left Dav found me on Yavin Station in a bad way, and he promised he'd never abandon me. So, when our Force Bond snapped---I just..." the padawan broke off, not sure how to describe what had happened. She'd nearly passed out and Will Son'tir had panicked. "Dav and I were close, very close. And Ander had had no word of the Praxeum. I guess I just wanted to talk to somebody who had known Dav and could talk to me about him in turn. Lots of alcohol was involved. I'm not making excuses. I hope." She frowned suddenly, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows, just over her nose. "And...I'm not proud of what I did, but---I'd never been that close to someone, you know?" she paused, hoping he'd understand and not make her actually say it. "It felt good in a way, to not be alone..."
"But it didn't solve anything. It's just made being alone seem more alone than before. Dav was like family, the father I never really knew, and more than that a friend I could rely on, almost a brother. We were close even when we were apart, thanks to the Force. I just keep wishing he'd come back..."
She appreciated that Mike was attempting to reassure her, but she suspected it wasn't a skill he'd had to practice often. His effort made the difference in her opinion though.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2014 22:11:04 GMT -8
Mike scowled, but it wasn't directed at Alexis. Everything he had heard about this fellow had given him the impression that the ex-Jedi was also a Grade-A asshole; Alexis's story just confirmed it.
"I think I get what you're saying, Alexis," Mike said. "It's a tactic as old as time. Find someone emotionally vulnerable, get 'em good and wasted, insert Tab A into Slot B. Doesn't make you a bad person for needing some comfort, it just makes him one for taking advantage of that."
Mike tried to offer her a reassuring smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Jedi might not be big on revenge, but from the sound of it, he could kneecap the fucker and call it justice. He didn't have many friends, but he was fiercely protective of the ones he did have. One of the hardest lessons his master had taught him was that while the desire to protect someone was a good and noble thing, possessiveness was not. To curb their free will, even for the most noble of intentions, was the way of the Sith.
Mike wouldn't stop folks from making their own decisions, and he considered protection from willful stupidity outside of his purview, but this was squarely in the realm of "shit to get upset about."
"And hey, you're not alone. No one can ever replace Dav, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here for you, no strings attached.
"Hell," he said, a little of his old humor returning, "it's nice to have company that knows I'm in the room."
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Post by Alexis Karidian on Mar 24, 2014 14:46:44 GMT -8
Alexis grimaced, blushing deeply at Mike's blunt way of summing things up. She barely noticed his smile as she was intently contemplating her fingernails for the first time in her life. Eventually, she looked back up at him, a dark light flashing through her eyes.
"I don't--" she coughed, "I don't remember a whole lot of that part of the night, but he didn't make the first move."
She could feel that Mike was upset, angry even, not really at her, but it was still intimidating at this moment in time. So, her words sunk into a whisper, "I did," and she kept blaming herself for it.
"Thanks Mike," she finally smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her eyes revealing gold flecks in their liquid depths. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you tripped over my hydrospanner on Honoghr." The memory of him falling flat on the hangar floor was one of a very limited amount of light-hearted, thoroughly pleasant encounters that she'd had within recent months.
"I see things other people don't. Feel things. Remember things. I don't know if I could forget you, Mike." She attempted to match his grin, "I notice people that others overlook, and thanks for letting me in. Though, you still need some remedial flying lessons..."
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