Private A Glimpse Beyond

[Iandre Athlea]

The sight of the Diarchs and two others having a duel caught her attention. Their fighting styles were far different from what she had ever seen. She stayed for the duration and decided she wanted to meet the man. She had seen the woman around a bit and would have other chances to speak with her. He, on the other hand, was a stranger, and she was curious.

She sent him a message requesting that he come to a cafe in Ravlin, making sure it was an easy one to find. Sitting outside, she drank the caff and enjoyed the warmth as it went down. Setting the mug on the table, she waited.

She wore what made her comfortable: her grey robes. Her hair was braided and hung down her back. The thought of cutting it flittered through her mind, but she dismissed that. She didn't even know why she was so attached to the braids, but she didn't want to lose them.

As people walked through the market, she noticed the man approaching and stood up to wave him over.

"Thank you for coming. I'm Iandre Athlea."

A simple introduction, and she took her seat.

"What would you like to drink?"

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Vulpesen Torrevaso," the Valde answered simply. He was wearing the same armored cloak that he had worn to the duel and behind him, a black tail flicked back and forth idly. Answering the request to meet had largely been done on a whim, and as he touched the force, Vulpesen could sense that Iandre stood some ways below where he, Ra, and the Diarchs were in terms of power. A whim indeed... Still, whims did often come with rewards. As he settled into his chair, his pointed Sephi-like ears flicked at the offering of a drink. "I've never been the sort to turn down a good drink. Thank you."

A small smile curved on his lips as he settled in more comfortably and his tail whipped around to lay in his lap. "So, what can I do for you, miss Athlea? Judging by the circumstances, I can only assume you were in the arena when the Diarchs and I had our little discussion." While there had been no real aggression or ill intent, the exchange had certainly been out of most diplomatic norms. Even most Zorrens didn't start their debates with weapons drawn, though it wasn't unheard of for negotiations to turn there eventually.

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre inclined her head slightly, hands resting lightly in front of her. Her green eyes held a steady, almost quiet intensity as she regarded him, taking in the subtle shifts in posture, the way his tail flicked in thought, and the measured way he carried himself. The Force whispered faintly around her, guiding her attention, lending clarity to the currents of tension and intent that danced between them.

"Yes," she said, voice calm but deliberate, "I was present in the arena and observed the duel. It was… enlightening to witness the skill of all involved, and the way each participant moved through the conflict."

Her gaze sharpened subtly, focusing on him. "But now I find myself curious about you. What were your intentions in that exchange, and what do you hope to accomplish going forward?"

She allowed a moment for her words to settle, letting her presence convey both patience and measured scrutiny. Her eyes never left his, absorbing every nuance of expression, every micro-shift of motion, as she awaited his answer.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"I've run into your people once before and learned that my friend had made some connections among you. To be frank, the galaxy has become a rather dangerous place and it doesn't hurt to make yourself some friends for when things get rough. Consider that duel as something of an interview." His arms rested lightly on the table and he leaned forward as he spoke.

"I find your Diarchy to be a rather interesting faction. At another time, I might have considered pledging myself to your numbers. Alas, I think I've become a bit too old to be following others' causes, no matter how noble. A lesson I'm afraid I'm learning all too late." His situation with the Alliance was certainly a testament to his argument. He was a man of far too many beliefs and experiences. So far, he had found that attempts to follow only lead to heartaches and headaches.

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre inclined her head slightly, grey eyes thoughtful as she regarded him. "An interview, then," she murmured, the hint of a wry smile touching her lips. "I suppose there are worse ways to test a new acquaintance than with a duel."

Her gaze softened as it swept over him, weighing his words. "The galaxy has indeed become…more treacherous than I ever expected, even in my time. Allies are valuable, though not always easy to trust."

A faint shadow of remembrance crossed her features, her hand brushing lightly against the table. "For context, I should tell you…I come from a time long before this era—the Clone Wars. Things are different now, but some truths remain the same."

Her grey eyes met his with quiet curiosity. "Tell me, what is it that keeps you moving forward when following others' causes has brought you so many…complications?"

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"I've known a few people in my time who came form that era. I've even known a few that came from beyond." He reached into his coat, pulling out a small flask which he poured into his mug. "Still, always interesting to meet a piece of living history." He questions were far from unfair. In truth, it was something he had asked himself on many an occasion. As a result, his answer came readily enough.

"I don't believe in people. Not anymore. They change, they corrupt, and they fail. Time and time again, people disappoint me. But ideals have value. I'm one man who's trying to make the galaxy a better place. I can't do it alone so, while people aren't perfect, they can be used to further my ideals. At least, for as long as our beliefs match." He raised the mug to his lips, taking a long sip. "The republic was corrupted by sith and fell apart. The Galactic Alliance has lost its way, and while they may find it again, I can't say that Veradune will prosper under their rule. I've lived long enough to see the turning of time's wheel. What was will be again and what is will fade away."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

She listened without interruption, her gaze steady—not judging, simply absorbing. The weight behind his words was familiar. Too familiar. When he finished, she let a breath slip into the quiet space he left behind.

"Ideals can endure," she agreed gently, "but only because people choose to carry them."

Her eyes lowered briefly to the steam rising from her own cup before lifting to meet his again. "You say you do not believe in people… yet you rely on their alignment, their willingness to fight beside you, to build something better." There was no accusation—merely truth, softly spoken.

"Perhaps that is not disbelief," she continued, a faint warmth threading through her tone. "Perhaps it is caution. Hard-won and justified."

She shifted slightly, considering him through the lens of his own history.

"You are right about cycles. Republics fall. Alliances crumble. Even those sworn to peace falter." Her voice thinned for a heartbeat, memory flickering behind her eyes. "I watched an Order that lost itself."

But then she drew in a slow breath, letting the present reclaim her.

"Still…I have seen enough to believe that people can surprise us, too. They fail, yes. But they also rise."

Her head tilted, a quiet, earnest curiosity.

"Tell me, Vulpesen… if all things fade and return, if what is will crumble—what is the shape of the future you are trying to build? And who do you imagine will stand in it with you, when the wheel turns again?"

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

He was quiet for a time, both listening and thinking on the words that Iandre offered him. While she might have come from another time, she was still young in terms of her experiences. Still, that didn't mean that she was without wisdom. He had learned long ago that youth was no barrier to understanding, merely an obstacle. "I want to build something lasting. And if I can't do that, then I hope to build something that serves its purpose for as long as it can last. As for who stands with me, it will be as its always been. I will see the same people with different faces." There was a touch of melancholy in his voice, but Vulpesen continued to smile over his cup.

He had seen so many faces in the constant war against the dark. Whether it was jedi, fellow wilders, normal soldiers, or something else. He had learned that people all served roles in life. The force's plan took people and placed them in those roles according to its will. When one fell, they were replaced by another. Of course, he missed those that he had lost along the way, but he knew that he would see their like again. There was a comfort in that. "And what of you? What place are you intending to take in the grand tapestry of our galaxy's history?"

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's fingers brushed lightly over the rim of her cup as she listened to Vulpesen speak—truly speak—about the weight of building something meant to outlast one lifetime. His melancholy was familiar, almost comforting in its honesty. She understood that sense of cycles, of watching faces change while roles remained the same. Jedi, soldiers, civilians, strangers who stepped into your story only to be swept away by it. The Force was a river; it carried people into your life, and it carried them out again. She had lived long enough—in her own strange way—to know that truth intimately.

When she finally answered, her voice was soft, but unwavering.

"I used to believe I would leave no mark at all," she admitted. The statement wasn't self-pitying—merely factual. "As a Jedi Padawan, I never thought beyond the next mission. Beyond serving. We weren't encouraged to think about legacy. And after the pod…"

A breath. Stillness.

"When I woke up in this time, I didn't expect to be still needed. Or wanted."

Her gaze shifted toward the horizon, thoughtful, almost vulnerable.

"I didn't join the Alliance because I wasn't ready. I didn't trust myself. I didn't know how to exist without a Master, without the Order I grew up in. The Diarchy…" She smiled faintly, almost surprised by her own words. "…gave me a place to stand again."

But when she spoke next, there was no hesitation at all.

"And Rellik…" Her breath hitched faintly—warmth, certainty, softness breaking through her composure. "With him, I see a future I never imagined I would have. I intend to marry him. To build a home with him. Maybe even a family."

It was clearer, saying it aloud, than it had been even in her own mind. She lowered her cup, her expression gentling.

"That is the only part of the tapestry I am sure of. Beyond that…?" Her tone shifted—introspective, honest, a little lost. "I am a soldier now. A Knight. Rellik's partner. Tarain's Sword's commander. I give everything I am to what the Diarchy is building. But…" Her eyes met his—steady despite the uncertainty she confessed.

"…other than loving him, I don't yet know what mark I am meant to leave. I'm still learning what this era needs me to be."

Another quiet breath, a soft exhale.

"Maybe that is enough for now."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's hand idly ran through the fur of his tail as he listened to the young woman. It was a story of one seeking purpose. A life wondering if it would find grandeur and at peace with the chance that it wouldn't happen. In some ways, its normalcy was an oddity compared to those he usually met. Jedi and sith and all in between with ideas of grandeur, expecting that their lives would be the one that tipped the balance on the galactic scales. It was refreshing to see someone who found peace in their own story.

"One of the greatest beings I ever knew was a simple merchant. He made me who I am. He served for a time in the senate, but he didn't do much with it. Frankly, I think he was happier trading beasts and making credits. He did good where he could, but he left changing the galaxy to others." The reverie in his voice was unmistakable. Zarro had, in many ways, been more of a father to him than the man that had given him his name. And even if the old fox was gone, Vulpesen knew that his end had been one of contentment. A life lost to time rather than war. And time well spent was no tragic fate. "Maybe a time will come when the force calls you to service. Perhaps you'll be like me, commanded to make a change and follow its will, even against your own. Or maybe your story will be one of quiet pleasure, Whatever the case, I think you're right to be patient. Those who seek their destiny often find one they'd rather avoid." His hand rose up to take his drink, enjoying one more long sip before he made his conclusion. "Your Diarch is fortunate to have someone so faithful at his side."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre listened, the small smile that touched her lips one of genuine warmth rather than politeness. There was something deeply comforting in Vulpesen's words—something steady, lived-in, and unvarnished by ego. She had met countless warriors, knights, leaders, and visionaries in her lifetime—before the Clone Wars, during them, and now in this strange new era—but so few ever spoke of quiet lives with anything other than regret or embarrassment. His reverence for a simple merchant… it softened something in her chest.

When she finally answered, her voice carried that same quiet steadiness.

"Sometimes I think the greatest strength a person can have is knowing when their life doesn't need to reshape the galaxy," she said gently, her gaze drifting toward the horizon as though searching for the man Vulpesen described in the memory he had offered. "In the Order, before everything fell apart, we spoke so often about service that we forgot peace can exist in small lives too. Some of the finest Jedi I knew were archivists, botanists, healers—people who never set foot on a battlefield unless they were forced to."

A breath eased from her, not heavy, just honest.

"Your mentor sounds like one of those people who left the world better without needing the galaxy to remember his name."

She turned her attention fully back to Vulpesen.

"And perhaps you're right. Maybe the Force will demand something large of me one day. Or maybe it will let me build the life I lost nine hundred years ago—a home, a family, something quiet enough that my heart finally stops expecting the next war."

Her tone softened further, sincere in a way she rarely allowed outside those she trusted.

"Whichever path comes… I won't chase greatness. Not anymore. I chased destiny once, and it cost me everything."

There was no bitterness in it—only truth.

Then, in his final words, her expression gentled, and warmth could be felt even through her calm.

"I do not know what I have done to be called 'faithful,'" she admitted with a small, almost self-deprecating ease, "but I will walk beside Rellik for as long as the Force allows it. Not because he is Diarch—but because he is him."

A faint, knowing look.

"He keeps insisting he's the fortunate one. Perhaps the truth is somewhere in the middle."

And with that, she lifted her own drink just slightly toward Vulpesen in quiet acknowledgment of his wisdom, his kindness, and the unexpected comfort of the moment between them.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"A life you lost? Unless I'm mistaken, it would seem more accurate that the force offered you a life you could never have." Such was the advantage of living among the Zorrens. Life came at a new perspective. History lived in every hall, breathing and speaking of the past with voices that knew it. Of course, Vulpesen had also spent no small amount of time studying the holocrons and histories before he had access to the living relics that were some of Veradune's older citizens. "The jedi of the old Republic forbade such attachments if I'm not mistaken. You'd be an apostate. Now, you're offered a chance with new times and traditions. As for your faithfulness, that willingness to follow more than his rank would be enough. But I agree. The truth lies between."

For a long moment, he simply focused on his drink, staring at the swirling caf in his cup. When he finally spoke, there was a small note of humor in his voice. "Of course, speaking of apostacism, I have been both a Jedi and a sith and rejected both. So I hope you can consider yourself in good company in that regard. I've found that a rigid code doesn't break so much as it shatters. Three words will suffice for my own."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre was quiet for a few moments after his words settled, her fingers resting lightly around her cup as the warmth seeped into her palms. She did not look away from him, but her gaze softened, thoughtful rather than defensive, as if she were turning each sentence over carefully before allowing herself to answer.

"You may be right," she said at last, her voice calm and measured, carrying no trace of resentment. "Perhaps it is more accurate to say that something was taken from me… and something else was offered in its place." The faintest, rueful smile touched her lips. "I was raised to believe that a life could only be lived one way if it was to have meaning. That devotion required subtraction. That love, attachment, even joy, were things to be set aside in service of something higher."

She glanced down at her caf briefly, watching the surface still, before lifting her eyes to him again. "And for a long time, I accepted that. Not because I did not feel those things, but because I believed restraint was the price of clarity. The old Order taught us that wanting more was dangerous." A quiet breath left her. "But they never truly taught us what to do when the Force itself presents you with something it refuses to let go of."

Her shoulders eased, tension loosening just enough to be noticeable. "I do not feel like an apostate," she continued gently. "Not anymore. I feel aligned. With myself. With the moment I am living in. With a future that does not require me to amputate parts of my own heart to be worthy of the Force."

At his mention of having walked both Jedi and Sith paths, her expression held no judgment, only a careful respect. "You have seen the extremes," she said. "And you survived them. That matters. It tells me you understand something most never do—that certainty can be just as dangerous as chaos when it refuses to bend."

She paused, then spoke more quietly still. "I am faithful, yes. But not blindly. Not to rank, not to doctrine, not even to tradition for its own sake." Her eyes met his steadily. "I am faithful to the people I choose to stand beside, and to the responsibility that comes with that choice. If that places me somewhere between paths, then I accept that space. I think it's where the truth has always lived."

She lifted her cup slightly—not a toast, but an acknowledgment. "Perhaps rigid codes do shatter," she said softly. "But living without any shape at all can leave nothing to hold on to. I suppose I am learning how to build something that bends instead of breaks."

A faint, genuine smile followed. "If that makes me good company for an apostate, then I will take it."

Then, after a beat, curiosity surfaced—quiet but sincere. "You said three words would suffice for your own code," she added, tilting her head slightly. "What are they, Master Vulpesen?"

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

The Arch Wilder's brow furrowed as he thought on Iandre's old life. He had read about it and studied countless holotomes. He knew the history, but to hear from someone who survived it was something else entirely. It added a weight beyond what he had only understood on an intellectual level. With those revelatory emotions can a strengthening of his own beliefs. It was yet another reason to be happy to have left that code behind, even if the Jedi Order had changed from those ways.

"Life. Freedom. Unity. Perhaps its less a code, and more like virtues to uphold. The Vitae Code permeates much of Veradune's society. Three virtues in an unchangeable order. Pursue the preservation of life. When people are alive, give them the freedom to choose and seek what lives they please. Finally, impose order through a government or identity that brings them together, never forgetting that such imposition should never come before those general freedoms or the right to life." He had other beliefs. Perhaps the foremost of which was his veneration of knowledge, but he had yet to see reason to change the code. Freedom meant the ability to pursue an education. Three virtues that expanded and branched into more complex ideas. Yet, they offered a simple framework that shaped his every decision.

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre listened in stillness, absorbing each word as though weighing it against every doctrine she had been raised under, every restriction, every wound from a life lived between two eras. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet but sure, the warmth of genuine respect shaping her tone.

"Life. Freedom. Unity." She repeated them softly, as if testing the shape of them in her mouth. "Those are not just virtues, Master Vulpesen…they are foundations. A code that remembers why we fight, instead of drowning in what we fight against."

Her gaze drifted briefly across the horizon before returning to him with something thoughtful—almost moved.

"Preserving life before anything else…granting freedom rather than demanding obedience…and building unity without erasing choice."

A faint breath escaped her, not a sigh, but a quiet release of something unspoken.

"I lived under a code that valued control over compassion. The Order had wisdom, yes, but its rigidity cast shadows. What you describe…is a balance I never knew was possible."

Her expression softened.

"And now I understand why you walk the way you do. Those virtues—they fit you. They explain you."

A small pause, contemplative but warm.

"If you would teach me more of the Vitae Code someday, I would be honored to learn it."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

A soft laugh accompanied his smile as Vulpesen watched and listened to Iandre making sense of his beliefs. Many, perhaps even most who heard his code for the first time, condemned it as far too simplistic. Three words, they often argued, could not offer nearly enough guidance for whatever trials the galaxy may present. And yet, the woman understood it well enough to ask for more. "Any more that I could teach would need to be taught through action. I could go into the deeper philosophies such as the importance or why life comes before all, but in the end, the code is best explained by practice."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's expression softened with something quieter than amusement, the kind of understanding that didn't need to be performed to be real, and she let the Arch Wilder's answer settle before she spoke, thoughtful rather than defensive, as if she were turning the words in her hands to feel where the weight truly lay.

"I think that is why it works," she said after a moment, her voice calm and even, "because it is not trying to be a library. It is trying to be a compass."

Her gaze lowered briefly to his cup, to the small, mundane steadiness of the moment, and then returned to him without flinching, not challenging, simply present.

"Three words cannot answer every question," she continued, "but they can tell you what you refuse to betray when the questions become unbearable." She paused, choosing the next thought carefully. "I have seen codes that were built like walls—clean, absolute, and impossible to live inside without cutting off pieces of yourself to fit. This… is different. It leaves room for people to remain people."

She held his gaze, the faintest hint of a smile returning, restrained, sincere.

"If you mean to teach it through action, then I will learn it that way," Iandre said. "But I would still like to hear you say it plainly, at least once—why does life come before all? Not the philosophy in full, just the truth beneath it. The sentence you would trust when everything else gets complicated."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"As I said, rigidity shatters," he mused as he set aside his empty mug. "All beings have the right to life. Life invites change, and change means that no matter how terrible things become, they can become better. Death isn't freedom. A dead slave knows nothing but the cold of the grave. Freedom is the fresh air after their shackles are released. Its the chance to change their life into something they can be proud of. That chance only exists with life. Thus, life must always come before freedom. Of course, Freedom is essential for choice and knowledge. In the grand scheme of things, no one is lesser or greater than another." Life and freedom, perhaps the most important values he had in life. And yet, he had always considered himself to be a realist. That idea of realism was what had finally led him down his current path, a path where he sought to cement unity under his own ideals rather than that of some government he half agreed with. "We all have the that right to life. Thus, there is no cause for us to rule others according to our will over theirs. But freedom has costs. To deny this is to deny reality. People make mistakes. Freedom alone can lead to those with power crushing those that are weaker. Before Freedom can choke out life, we need to temper it. Unity is that temperance. Law and order have their place. They should never crush freedom, but it does exist to keep that freedom from turning into the dangers of anarchy."

As he finally shut his mouth, Vulpesen looked down at his mug, taking a moment to collect himself. He blinked in minor incredulity, then cleared his throat. "Sorry, as you cans see, I've spent a lot of time thinking about those words. Sometimes I get a bit... lost in it when I do speak about the code."

Iandre Athlea

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre listened without interrupting, her posture relaxed but attentive, as though she were allowing the shape of his words to settle fully before deciding where they belonged. There was no impatience in her expression, no urge to debate or refine what he had said—only quiet absorption. This kind came from someone who had lived long enough with rigid doctrine to recognize when a belief had been earned rather than inherited.

When he finished and looked down at his mug, she did not rush to fill the silence. Instead, she let it breathe, honoring the weight he had placed into those words.

"You didn't get lost," she said gently at last, her voice calm, steady, and sincere. "You explained exactly what I was asking for." Her eyes remained on him, thoughtful rather than evaluative. "Life as possibility. Freedom as choice. Unity as restraint, not domination," she continued, a quiet clarity threading through her tone. "It's…grounded. Not hopeful in the abstract, but hopeful because it accepts what people are capable of—both the good and the harm."

There was no judgment in her next words, only recognition. "I was raised in a tradition that feared attachment because it believed loss made people dangerous," Iandre said. "What you're describing accepts danger as inevitable—and still insists on responsibility. That matters to me."

She glanced down briefly at his empty mug, then back up, a faint, understated smile touching her expression. "And if learning this means listening when someone speaks from a place they've thought about deeply," she added, "then I think I'm exactly where I should be." A beat passed, lighter now. "Would you like another drink?" she asked, the question offered, without ceremony. "You don't seem finished thinking yet—and I'd rather not rush the lesson."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Another would be nice. And I suppose I could speak more if you'd like to hear it." He leaned back in his seat, his eyes turning to the crowd around them. "Back home, the code informs everything. To the Zorrens, it is the doctrine that forms our entire society. We have in instinct to protect others, so its natural for us to preserve life. Freedom is something that we all find to be beautiful and Unity... well, I'd invite you to one of our eating halls. Our restaurants don't value privacy like most worlds." His smile turned slightly wild and his tail flicked away from his hand to wag behind him. "In fact, you'll find that our eateries are an introverts worst nightmare. To eat alone in such a place, is anathema. To eat with a single person is considered a show of intimacy in public, or" he offered a small shrug as he continued, "a sign of planned mischief."

If not for his hard earned skills in healing, Vulpesen knew that he would bear a few more scars than he currently did. Even the Valde was not immune to the raucous nature of the taverns, and his favorite haunt often send its bill to the Torrevaso estate. An non-inconsiderable amount of his income went to replacing chairs and tables that had been shattered by the Arch-Wilder's body, or those that he became entangled with. It wasn't enough to truly drain his funds, but his personal accountant did sometimes send some strongly worded memos. "I think your Diarchs, especially, would enjoy the experience."

Iandre Athlea