Private Acolytes of Korriban

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Somewhere along the way the chamber lost the sense of being built at all; it felt arranged rather than constructed, tuned to hesitation and choice. Lysander’s hand stayed on the hilt of his saber without conscious intent. The grip was.. automatic. The quiet did not comfort him; it peeled him open. With nothing left to push against, his instincts turned inward. He’d felt this before. When things calmed down, he always wanted to move.

The light around the holocron held his attention, its glow refusing to release him as everything else fell away. Temptation did not feel like desire.

Naniti’s ultimatum, which had steadied him seconds ago, began to feel.. obstructive. Not wrong.. just in the way.

“You’re acting like stopping this here fixes anything.” As the final syllables left his mouth, the light brightened by degrees, as if something had been noticed and answered. The shrine’s crystal heart sent it outward, lines running along the stone and outlining the chamber.

“That only works if this is the last time,” Lysander continued. “And it isn’t..”

Lungs filled slowly, then emptied, again and again.. but the words were already lining up behind his teeth, sharpened by something that was impossible to ignore. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet than normal, aimed more directly than he wanted.

“You’re assuming this is the last time. That we walk out of here and nothing like this happens again.”

He turned his head to look at her, enough for doubt to take a firm hold. It nearly stopped him.. it should have, but the nexus answered by pressing necessity through his thoughts until it passed for reason.

“You can stop this now. But what about the next one?” asked quietly. “When you’re not standing next to me. When there isn’t time to debate whether preparation is permission.”

Not from the shrine; not from the holocron, but from everywhere at once. The walls, the floor, the air; a voice that was stratified, too deep for any throat,

“CHOOSE.”

The words landed between them like something alive.

“ONE WILL DECIDE.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti frowned as she stared at the holocron. Her attention didn't waver as Lysander began to speak. At first what he was saying made no sense. It quickly became apparent, however, that he was questioning whether she believed he was strong enough to manage by himself. A philosophical discussion in the middle of... well, whatever it was that was happening. It took effort not to just crush the holocron then and there. Damn thing thought it was a game. The dead, apparently, did not grow wiser with time.

The Togruta turned to look over at Lysander. Her deep blue eyes now radiated a light from within causing them to glow softly in the dark. She didn't say anything at first. It was only few a few seconds as the light in her eyes dimmed that she spoke, "If there is one shackle in this life I have broken it is 'What If?' And you are assuming you need to face everything alone." Hot air shot through her nostrils. "So, how do you want to handle this?" Her voice wasn't harsh, but it was notably crisper much as the intensity of her gaze.

Lysander wanted the holocron, which precluded her annihilating it. That begged the question then how the situation got resolved. Only time would reveal the answer, but it didn't mean she liked it. These spirits needed to be taught a lesson about messing with people. It would be so easy to destroy the holocron. A thought. A gesture. But Lysander wanted to navigate the trial; just meant she had to deal with a different trial all her own.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Silence settled over the blonde like a thick fog, cloaking him in a shadow that was agonizing. His eyes still found Naniti’s. But the Nexus kept pressing, whispering that strength lay in stepping forward alone, and that relying on another was best avoided. This voice wasn't a force pushing him forward, but more like glass revealing countless possible tomorrows, a storm of ‘what ifs' hammering at his mind.

Fingers finally loosened their hold, and the saber snapped to life, a violent flare of red tearing through the space between them. His thoughts were a tangled mess, uncertainanties cracking under something he still couldn’t name. For years he’d always believed he was the master of his own fate, the one in control. The Nexus knew exactly where his fears lived, and he found once sharp edges blurring under the influence.

"This.. isn't about you," Lysander growled, "it's about me. About whether I’m still who I think I am when something like this tries to rewire me.”

Each inhalation was shaking, clawing through layers of old wounds. “I’m not pointing this blade at you. I’m pointing it at the part of me that’s afraid I’m not as strong as I thought. Maybe that’s what this place wants, for me to doubt myself until I can’t tell friend from foe."

Faith began eroding, and trust was beginning to feel like a threat.

Echoes of those words dissipated into the air, and he spun the point of his weapon, away from his own body, and toward the Togruta.

 

[Naniti]

The Togruta held her place even as Lysander ignited his blade. Her bright blue rings held on him as the only living thing in that chamber as he spoke. They held as fast as her feet did to that spot on the floor when the blade flipped around. Not so much as a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

"Attachments are a weakness. Your enemies will exploit them. When you've become an unassailable force in the galaxy they'll go after those you care for. Those not as strong as you thought. Is that right, Garush?" There was a half second pause. "But you know what they don't teach you, Lysander? Because it's useful to those in power. Fear is the greatest weakness. Constant. Endless. Fear. You can cut yourself off from everyone. Hide in the shadows. Rob yourself of your greatest achievements and your enemies don't have to lift a finger."

Slowly, Naniti held her hands out to either side. "You are waiting for your own answer, Lysander."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Lysander’s thumb hovered over the ignition stud, until the nexus began screaming at him not to. That weakness now meant death later, that attachments were chains and he was shackled in so many. He tried to remember why he’d come into the chamber, and the answer quickly slipped away.

“You speak of fear as if it were a lesson I have yet to learn. As though I haven’t carried it through campaigns, betrayals, and the graves that followed. This isn’t new to me, Naniti. It’s one of my oldest companions.. longer than most things.”

His jaw worked; teeth pressed together hard enough to grind.

“Why are you acting like there are only two options here.. Garush's or yours. Cut everyone off or trust blindly, right? I’m not sure either of those are right. You just standing there proving you're not afraid of me doesn't make attachments safe. That just means the nexus hasn't pushed me far enough yet to proveyou wrong, Naniti."

The saber inched closer from a trembling wrist; anticipation pulsed through Lysander’s veins.

"Tell me what you see. Because right now all I'm getting is more static.”

 

[Naniti]

"Then why is it still guiding your hand?" The Togruta asked of the man that claimed to be familiar with Fear.

The violet woman's lips thinned at Lysander's demand she reveal what she saw. "What if. What if I destroy the holocron? What if I draw my saber? What if I begged for my life? What if I let this dead Lord destroy you? I don't fear what might happen because I live it. Do you fear what might happen if the one named Naniti died today? You don't need to trust everyone, but you should trust someone."

Naniti extended a hand out toward Lysander. "Trust me, Lysander. Just for a moment. I didn't take that saber or leave you behind in the chambers filled with ghosts. I'm not going to start now."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

He felt every inch between wanting to act and actually moving. It was such a small gap, almost nothing at all. Lysander thought his thumb was hanging just too close to the ignition button, almost as if the choice had already been made.

“I’m not..” The words failed him, from the effort of finding a starting point that didn’t feel so dishonest. Another attempt followed. “I’m not pretending it isn’t there.”

Attention settled on his hand, tightness passing through his jaw. He swallowed slowly, as though something sharp were lodged in his throat, and with a deep breath, his shoulders finally dropped.

“Some of that,” added quietly, “wasn’t fair. I’ve buried enough names to know what that silence feels like afterward. I don’t want to add yours, Naniti.”

Fair was not a word the Sith honored, but he spoke from a place the doctrine could not reach. Not yet, at least.

Only then did he allow himself to meet her. “Death doesn't scare me.”

That much was true. Too true.

"I worry about the moments where it feels like strength, but costs me more than I notice at the time."

Emerald orbs dipped, then lifted again. “I do trust you. That’s not the part I’m stuck on.”

The admission left him, and the cost followed.

"Waiting was never something I was rewarded for. And.. I don’t want to win by losing myself.”

With a quiet sigh, the lightsaber went quiet. The Togruta's hand was a constant pull; his fingers were always reaching for it by instinct lately. Whenever the space between them allowed.

This time, he held back.

 

[Naniti]

"Desire. Ambition. Power. Madness. That's the Dark Side, Lysander. Some people go too far. Get drunk on the appeal of their own power, whether they actually have any strength or not. Places like this urge you on. Not to get stronger, but to grow madder with them."

Naniti stood there watching Lysander. She had a similar, but different problem with the Nexus, but it was manageable. At that moment, Lysander needed to focus on himself instead of hearing her talk of her dissimilar experience.

"Focus on who you are. Not what you want, but what makes you you, Lysander. What makes you the kind of person a Togruta like me finds attractive. Ignore the haunting whispers and withered desires of the dead; they had their chance, now it's your time."

What was it that he was consumed by? Which spirit was it that whispered to him? And where was their rival for her to give them a proper, scathing rebuke? Naniti wanted to give Lysander what he needed to get through the moment. She knew she could do it.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Rooted in place, he could feel how deep the Nexus’ hooks ran. There were voices between Naniti’s words.

“You’re talking like it’s obvious. What if that’s just a version people recite when they want distance from it?” His head tipped to one side. "I've seen people get lost chasing power, but.. I've also seen others break trying not to touch it all." To be specific, Jedi. "Both thought they were being careful."

How nice it would be if it were that easy. A slope that you just slip upon and fall down.

Lysander glanced toward the holocron and regretted it instantly.. he hated that it appeared to react to attention.

Pressure built again, felt in his temple.

“I don’t want to be found attractive, Naniti.”

That had never been difficult, and the thought brought no pride. You could be found attractive for the wrong reasons, just as you could be desirable because you were controlled. Maybe there was some kind of ‘cool security’ in it, but it never really pressed him to grow.

“What I want,” Lysander came back, emerald flames meeting her endless blue, “is to be understood.”

He turned away after that, because he wasn’t trying to get an answer. The truth was left out there, and pressing the Togruta for anything heavier would’ve been.. unkind.

Then he began walking toward the holocron, resisting the static in his head.

 

[Naniti]

"What's obvious is that you need to find your own path. What feels right. What enables you to get where you want to go in life, Lysander. Holocrons are books with a will of their own. Useful, but controlling. If you let it, it'll consume you and make you into a useful puppet. I'm not telling you to leave it, Lysander, I'm telling you to find your own way to be the one in charge of your own life."

The Togruta's lips pressed together as Lysander said he didn't want to be seen as attractive. It had to be the Nexus making him that dense. He did not want to be a hermit, isolated and cut off from everyone; and whether he 'wanted' to or not, it was a skill a leader needed to have metaphorically.

She gazed into his emerald eyes for a second. There was the desire to confess it was the same with her as well, but Lysander was working through his own problems right then. He didn't need her adding to them.

Instead, Naniti stood and watched as Lysander strode toward the holocron. She looked ahead to what might follow to discern the shape of things to come while time ticked onward. All she wanted was for him to find the strength he desired. And to leave this cursed place as the voices wouldn't shut up -- not that she'd stressed on the point he wasn't the only one plagued by the troubled environment in which they found themselves.

Whether some treatise on Sith Necromancy would be of use to someone like Lysander... Well, some believed any power was good power. Perhaps. The Togruta wasn't exactly smitten with the idea of raised corpses, however, shambling about. As long as they didn't start talking. They had too much to say as it was as ghosts trapped in places like this. Obviously such power didn't grant someone immortality, however, or they wouldn't be standing in a tomb.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Tentative steps drew Lysander closer to his target. The chamber's air still pressed against his skin, heavy with the sense of something ancient watching. Or perhaps it was not the chamber, but his own senses tightening.. sharpening even, until even the echo of his footsteps swelled.

Along that short path, fragments of the Togruta's words echoed in his mind. And up close, the holocron seemed almost mundane. The light from earlier was extinguished. He stopped a few feet short. Then, slowly, he reached forward, letting his hand close around the object.

Pressure built just behind the eyes, all too familiar murmurs about timing and seizing opportunities coming to the forefront. There came the feeling of being exposed, an outside presence reaching inward to finish his thoughts.

Lysander caught glimpses of futures brushing past him. Alternate versions of himself that didn't ask questions. Versions that survived by becoming quieter.. like it was who he was meant to be. He swallowed hard, choosing not to embrace them, but he didn't fight it either.

Moments later, the presence faded.

As he returned to the side of his violet companion, the exhaustion that had been building caught up to him. A gloss of sweat traced his brow.

“I didn’t miss what you said,” the cadence steady, lifting the holocron just enough. “I’m not sure we see all of this the same way. But.. I’m glad you let me decide anyway.”

His thumb trailed along one of the crystal’s facets. “It’s a conversation worth having.. when this place isn’t listening.”

The haunting whispers finally faded.

An exhale slipped past his lips before another truth. “I’m exhausted, Naniti. We should leave.”

 

[Naniti]

Naniti looked up at Lysander as he came back with the holocron in hand. "Maybe we should talk about it someday." She'd alluded to it a few times; or at least a consequence of her abilities. Might even be called a side effect. He hadn't quite picked up on her cues though; hadn't probed or drilled down further into the implications. Maybe it was because of some level of trust he had for her.

Part of her wished he would ask. The other part was glad to keep her secrets private.

The Togruta nodded slightly at the conversation being put off until they were away from the Nexus. That made sense. Her eyes shifted beyond him to the chamber where the haunts lingered. Fingers twitched at her side as the urge to do something to deface the tomb lingered.

"Yeah." There was a pause as her attention still didn't pull away. "We should." At last Naniti looked back at Lysander, and then turned to leave.

"I hope you found what you were looking for, Lysander." Was it really inside that holocron? If he wanted to be understood then he'd have to talk about things he didn't among most other people. Dangerous things. The sort that had you second and triple think any inkling to share.

On the way out they'd grab that saber, she recalled. If for no other reason than to intentionally upset the ghosts now. Earlier it'd been a thought to do it and make a run for it like bandits; now it was a means of defiling the place further. All she could do without risking Lysander's holocron and whatever else he took from the place in having suffered for it.

Lysander von Ascania