“You said you weren’t the best example of a Jedi. What did you mean by that?”
They were still in the bar, Starlin nursing his drink and her with her glass of water sitting untouched.
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“But we still try our best. You don’t sound all that hopeful.”
“I haven’t had much luck with being a good Jedi lately.” He pointed to her water. “Hydration check.”
She glared at him, but actually did drink a little. “Mind if I ask what happened? Of course, while I might’ve spilled my guts to you just now, you’re under no obligation to tell me anything.”
“Exactly, strange girl I just met half an hour ago.” But then he sighed. “I guess I just… keep finding myself in these situations where I wind up fighting, if not other Jedi, then other followers of the Light, or even just people who have good intentions and are trying to make the galaxy a better place. I try to be the hero, and instead I wind up being the villain in somebody else’s story.”
Her brows knit together. “How does that keep happening?”
“To tell you the truth, it’s my masters. I follow people who wind up being wrong. My masters have either abandoned me, or led me down the wrong path.”
“Sounds like maybe you should start thinking for yourself.”
“I do that, yeah,” he replied coolly. “I’m still a Padawan learner—my training isn’t finished yet. I have to have a teacher if I’m ever going to reach knighthood. But both the teachers I’ve had have been… flawed.”
Syd Celsius was too emotional, letting her attachments manipulate her and letting evil run rampant in the name of love. Cedric Grayson was too hard-hearted, foregoing compassion and mercy in the name of accomplishing the greater good.
“It’s more a matter of trust. Have you ever put your faith in someone, counting on them to help you, only for them to fail you?”
“No,” she admitted. “Not yet, I guess.”
“Well, consider yourself lucky, because it sucks.” He took a long swig of his drink, feeling his face growing warm. “I never knew I was surrounded by so many liars and hypocrites. That’s one thing I’ll say the Sith have going for them—they don’t pretend to be selfless. You sign on with the Sith, you know exactly what you’re getting.”
“They lie too,” Ishani said softly. “To themselves, mostly. And they cheat, and steal, and pretend all the while that they’re in the right.”
He looked at her for what seemed like the first time, with fresh eyes, and saw her not just for what she was, but perhaps a little bit of who she was underneath the labels and allegiances. Her aura in the Force was painfully clear, untainted by the darkness that had corrupted Arcturus and every other Sith he had encountered. She had her eyes open, seeing things for what they really were.
“Maybe you do know something about it, then,” Starlin said. “That people aren’t always what they say they are.”
“Everyone’s a hypocrite. So who are we to judge?” She leaned her elbows on the table. “I’m not saying crimes should go unpunished, but… people are going to make mistakes. You and I are going to make a lot of mistakes over the course of our lives. Do we just sit here and feel bad for ourselves when people do us wrong, or do we forgive what we can and try to do better?”
Starlin sure hoped Syd realized he had forgiven her. He just wanted her to come back. As for Cedric… Starlin wasn’t sure what to do yet when it came to him. Maybe it would be best to distance himself, if not from the man, then certainly from the Ashlan Crusade he commanded.
“... Yeah, you do have a point there,” Starlin finally admitted. “But if you wear a hat, no one will notice.”
Ishani rolled her eyes, then checked her chrono. “I should probably get going.”
He also looked at the time. Contrary to what he thought, they had not been here for a mere thirty minutes. “Holy chit. What the hell have we been talking about for the past two hours?”
“Arcturus, my love life, and your failures as a Jedi.”
“Oh. Well, I’m surprised we weren’t here all night, then.” He stood up, then awkwardly held out his hand. “I… didn’t exactly enjoy talking to you, but you’re not so bad, Ishani. For a Sith, that is.”
She smirked, but shook his hand anyway. “You’re a bit goofier than I expected, but that isn’t such a terrible thing.”
He went to pay the tab, half expecting her to leave, but she stayed long enough to walk out with him. It had rained while they were inside. An old streetlight was painting mystical circles on the wet pavement in front of the bar.
She took a deep breath of ozone-scented air, then turned to him. “I’m glad we talked. I feel a little better now.”
“Oh?” He also felt a little bit better, but he was too proud to admit it. At least, not to someone like Ishani, who despite their connection through Arcturus, was still a relative stranger to him. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m available for long, deep conversations every weekend.”
“I’d take you up on that offer, if I lived closer to Coruscant.” She started to walk away. “Goodbye, Starlin.”
“Bye.” He waved, watching her disappear down the rain-slicked street before he headed his own way.
They were still in the bar, Starlin nursing his drink and her with her glass of water sitting untouched.
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“But we still try our best. You don’t sound all that hopeful.”
“I haven’t had much luck with being a good Jedi lately.” He pointed to her water. “Hydration check.”
She glared at him, but actually did drink a little. “Mind if I ask what happened? Of course, while I might’ve spilled my guts to you just now, you’re under no obligation to tell me anything.”
“Exactly, strange girl I just met half an hour ago.” But then he sighed. “I guess I just… keep finding myself in these situations where I wind up fighting, if not other Jedi, then other followers of the Light, or even just people who have good intentions and are trying to make the galaxy a better place. I try to be the hero, and instead I wind up being the villain in somebody else’s story.”
Her brows knit together. “How does that keep happening?”
“To tell you the truth, it’s my masters. I follow people who wind up being wrong. My masters have either abandoned me, or led me down the wrong path.”
“Sounds like maybe you should start thinking for yourself.”
“I do that, yeah,” he replied coolly. “I’m still a Padawan learner—my training isn’t finished yet. I have to have a teacher if I’m ever going to reach knighthood. But both the teachers I’ve had have been… flawed.”
Syd Celsius was too emotional, letting her attachments manipulate her and letting evil run rampant in the name of love. Cedric Grayson was too hard-hearted, foregoing compassion and mercy in the name of accomplishing the greater good.
“It’s more a matter of trust. Have you ever put your faith in someone, counting on them to help you, only for them to fail you?”
“No,” she admitted. “Not yet, I guess.”
“Well, consider yourself lucky, because it sucks.” He took a long swig of his drink, feeling his face growing warm. “I never knew I was surrounded by so many liars and hypocrites. That’s one thing I’ll say the Sith have going for them—they don’t pretend to be selfless. You sign on with the Sith, you know exactly what you’re getting.”
“They lie too,” Ishani said softly. “To themselves, mostly. And they cheat, and steal, and pretend all the while that they’re in the right.”
He looked at her for what seemed like the first time, with fresh eyes, and saw her not just for what she was, but perhaps a little bit of who she was underneath the labels and allegiances. Her aura in the Force was painfully clear, untainted by the darkness that had corrupted Arcturus and every other Sith he had encountered. She had her eyes open, seeing things for what they really were.
“Maybe you do know something about it, then,” Starlin said. “That people aren’t always what they say they are.”
“Everyone’s a hypocrite. So who are we to judge?” She leaned her elbows on the table. “I’m not saying crimes should go unpunished, but… people are going to make mistakes. You and I are going to make a lot of mistakes over the course of our lives. Do we just sit here and feel bad for ourselves when people do us wrong, or do we forgive what we can and try to do better?”
Starlin sure hoped Syd realized he had forgiven her. He just wanted her to come back. As for Cedric… Starlin wasn’t sure what to do yet when it came to him. Maybe it would be best to distance himself, if not from the man, then certainly from the Ashlan Crusade he commanded.
“... Yeah, you do have a point there,” Starlin finally admitted. “But if you wear a hat, no one will notice.”
Ishani rolled her eyes, then checked her chrono. “I should probably get going.”
He also looked at the time. Contrary to what he thought, they had not been here for a mere thirty minutes. “Holy chit. What the hell have we been talking about for the past two hours?”
“Arcturus, my love life, and your failures as a Jedi.”
“Oh. Well, I’m surprised we weren’t here all night, then.” He stood up, then awkwardly held out his hand. “I… didn’t exactly enjoy talking to you, but you’re not so bad, Ishani. For a Sith, that is.”
She smirked, but shook his hand anyway. “You’re a bit goofier than I expected, but that isn’t such a terrible thing.”
He went to pay the tab, half expecting her to leave, but she stayed long enough to walk out with him. It had rained while they were inside. An old streetlight was painting mystical circles on the wet pavement in front of the bar.
She took a deep breath of ozone-scented air, then turned to him. “I’m glad we talked. I feel a little better now.”
“Oh?” He also felt a little bit better, but he was too proud to admit it. At least, not to someone like Ishani, who despite their connection through Arcturus, was still a relative stranger to him. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m available for long, deep conversations every weekend.”
“I’d take you up on that offer, if I lived closer to Coruscant.” She started to walk away. “Goodbye, Starlin.”
“Bye.” He waved, watching her disappear down the rain-slicked street before he headed his own way.
