Private An Order Worth Studying

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren listened to him without interrupting, her posture easy but attentive, hands resting loosely as Bastion's quiet, ordered hum filled the space around them. It was a far cry from Korriban's weight or Malachor's scarred silence, yet the subject carried the same gravity: different stones, same questions.

When she spoke, her voice was softer than before, measured but warm.

"I know you didn't," she said gently, meeting his eyes. "And you're right. Discomfort discourages most people long before they reach anything that actually matters."

She shifted slightly closer, not crowding him, just enough that the conversation felt shared rather than observed.

"Growth asks for vulnerability," Seren continued. "And vulnerability feels dangerous to almost everyone. Sith, Jedi, or otherwise. Introspection removes distance. You stop being an observer and realize you're implicated."

Her gaze stayed steady, calm rather than confrontational.

"Facts about events let people say 'this happened to me,'" she said quietly. "Truth about intention forces 'I chose this.' That's where people hesitate. That's where they look away."

When he said he was prepared to see anything, Seren did not challenge it. She studied him for a moment instead, as if weighing not the words, but the way he carried them.

"Being prepared doesn't mean it won't cost you," she replied softly. "It means you're willing to stay present when what you learn stops being comfortable. From what I've seen…You already understand that."

She rested her hand lightly against the railing beside him, close enough that the gesture felt intentional.

"As for the Diarchy," Seren went on, "no collective is free of ambition. That isn't a flaw unique to you. What matters is whether truth is treated as discipline… or as leverage."

Her voice remained even, thoughtful.

"Any tool that reveals truth will amplify the intent of the one holding it," she said. "It won't choose restraint for you."

She glanced briefly toward the distant skyline before returning her attention to him.

"I've seen what happens when places like Korriban or Malachor forget that distinction," Seren added quietly. "When truth becomes something to survive instead of something to understand."

Her eyes met his again, closer now, unguarded.

"If the Diarchy truly wants to better the galaxy through understanding," she said, "then accountability will matter more than intent. Truth asks for both."

She let the silence breathe between them, not uncomfortable, just honest.

"Truth doesn't belong to institutions," Seren finished softly. "It belongs to the people willing to carry it without reshaping it to feel safe."

Her expression warmed just a fraction.

"If that's the path you're actually willing to walk," she added, "then I'm willing to keep having this conversation."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

It took him no effort to answer the question.

"I am." He said easily. "I am willing to walk that path."

He grasped his hands comfortably behind him, entirely confident that he would succeed here if given the chance. "Accountability is something that oftentimes needs to be forced. And how better to do it than with the truth? And how better to provide the truth than to allow the most amount of people to see it, and provide as many people as we can with the education necessary to understand and accept the truth when they see it? You're correct, it belongs to the people who are willing to carry it without bias. And that can only be achieved if such people are cultivated, if they are given the tools needed to carry the truth."

He didn't intend to turn it into a sales pitch, though it was plain to see that he believed this was the best place to achieve this goal.

His expression likewise showed contained excitement at this prospect. The idea of how much good this skill of hers could do. And if it could be learned? Deception would be a much harder thing to accomplish. Spies would be found. Frauds exposed. Liars known. And denial of what was true would become much, much harder. The prospect of an honest society, it was an idea he found very compelling...

And also frightening.

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not interrupt him while he spoke. She watched instead, not with scrutiny, not with judgment, but with the kind of attention reserved for moments when someone reveals what they truly believe rather than what they wish to persuade others of.

When he finished, she did not answer right away.

She stepped a little closer, close enough that his certainty no longer felt abstract, close enough that she could feel the quiet intensity beneath it. One hand rested lightly at her side, the other loosely folded, her posture calm but fully present.

"I believe you," Seren said at last, her voice low and steady. "Not because your argument is compelling. But because you are not speaking from ambition. You are speaking from responsibility."

Her gaze held his, unflinching.

"Most people who talk about truth want it to validate them," she continued. "To justify what they already believe. You are talking about truth as something that constrains you as much as it empowers you."

She let that sit between them.

"That isn't as common as you might think," Seren added quietly.

She moved just enough to shift the dynamic, not circling him, not retreating, simply standing with him rather than opposite him.

"An honest society is a dangerous idea," she said. "Not because truth is harmful, but because people are not prepared for what it asks of them. Once denial is stripped away, no one is left to blame. No shadow to hide behind. Only choice."

Her eyes softened slightly, not with doubt, but with recognition.

"Education helps," Seren acknowledged. "So does transparency. But neither of them prevent fear. They only remove excuses."

She paused, then added more quietly.

"And people who remove excuses rarely make themselves popular."

There was no warning in her tone. Only honesty.

"If this path succeeds," Seren continued, "it will not be because deception disappears. It will be because fewer people are willing to live comfortably inside it."

She looked at him again, searching not for weakness, but for resolve.

"That is why cultivation matters," she said. "Not training obedience. Training discernment. Teaching people how to sit with truth even when it costs them something."

A small breath escaped her, something almost like a quiet smile, though it did not quite reach her lips.

"If you are willing to walk that path," Seren finished softly, "then you should understand this as well."

She met his eyes fully.

"The most frightening thing about an honest society is not what it reveals about others. It is what it demands we acknowledge about ourselves."

She did not step away.

"If you can carry that," Seren said, quieter now, "then you are already further along this path than you realize."

There was no promise in her words. No offer. Just an understanding quietly shared between two people who knew that truth, once pursued, never stops asking for more.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"Popularity is hardly an issue for me." He said with a shrug. "I may be the apprentice to a Diarch, but I am not particularly well known. My authority is recognized, but aside from that very few people interact with me on the regular. I don't much care what they think. As for acknowledging oneself, I have done that twice in my life. The first it was indeed not easy. When I fled the Sith it was in confusion and turmoil, I had refused to acknowledge a part of me that refused to be snuffed out. I had thought I had vanquished myself and was proven incredibly wrong. Then again my seclusion in the Maw led me to understand myself, among other things. I also know that there are things about me that I may never learn, though I can guarantee that acknowledgment is no obstacle to me. Not anymore."

She would search him for resolve, and she would find it. Though his resolve wasn't the dogged determination to succeed that one would expect from a youthful man who walked the path of the dark side and its passions. Rather what she would see was the calm, almost bored certainty of a man who had mastered himself. He was sure there would be challenges in this, but he was likewise certain that whatever challenges were presented he could match.

He was not the confused boy that had come to the Diarchy a decade ago.

He then looked her way, meeting her eye. "Besides, one can always make statements about being ready. But noone ever really is, that's why you grow. Because you weren't ready for what you face. If I am ready for this, I doubt I will grow much."

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren remained still for a long moment after he finished speaking. Not distant. Not withdrawn. Simply present, allowing the weight of his words to settle fully before she answered. When she did speak, it was with the same calm deliberation she brought to everything that mattered, her voice unhurried and grounded.

"You're right," Seren said quietly. "Readiness is a story people tell themselves so they can feel protected from change. It gives the illusion of control. But growth never waits for permission, and it never arrives when someone feels prepared for it."

She shifted closer, not to press him, but to share the space between them more intentionally. The movement was subtle, deliberate, the kind that carried meaning without asking for acknowledgment.

"The truths that matter most are always the ones that arrive before we've decided how to receive them," she continued. "They disrupt balance. They expose what we have learned to carry quietly. And they leave marks whether we resist them or not."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, steady and searching, but without judgment.

"You are not the person who came to the Diarchy years ago," Seren said. "And you are not trying to preserve that version of yourself out of pride or fear. That tells me far more than declarations of certainty ever could."

She let that settle, then went on, her tone softening just slightly.

"What you carry now isn't ambition," she said. "It's perspective. That kind of resolve doesn't shout. It doesn't need to prove itself. It waits, because it knows it will endure."

A faint pause followed, not awkward, not hesitant. Considered.

"As for lessons," Seren continued, "they do not begin with answers, or confidence, or declarations of being ready."

Her hand lifted slightly, stopping short of touching him, close enough to be felt rather than seen.

"They begin with attention," she said softly. "With learning how to listen without trying to shape what emerges. By allowing the truth to arrive before deciding what it means."

She held his gaze, calm and open.

"If you choose to learn," Seren finished, "then we begin there. Not because you lack anything, but because that is where growth actually starts."

She did not step back. She did not step closer.

She simply left the space between them exactly as it was, an invitation defined not by urgency, but by trust.
Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"If you are willing to share what you have learned with me, I am eager to learn." He told her, if attention was what it required. Then attention was what she had. Such a subject as this was incredibly compelling.

The space between them had become very narrow, but likewise very comfortable. He did not feel encroached upon, and he allowed her to come as close as she needed to. This conversation of theirs had led him to lower his guard. When at first he had expected her to be decietful and malicious, he had long since abandoned this notion. He considered himself to be excellent lie detector, and was very familiar with the mannerisms of the Sith. Scarce few were able to hide their malice completely. Yet this woman was not malicious, not by his ability to gague.

"Though it is up to you when and if you wish to teach." He said with a shrug, "We have yet to complete the tour after all. I'm sure there is more you would like to see, and I would be happy to show you more so you can begin to get settled in. I'm sure we can continue this discussion of philosophy and learning at a later date in more... comfortable a place."

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not answer immediately. She let his words settle the way she let most things settle, without rushing to fill the space they created. The closeness between them did not prompt her to retreat, nor did it push her forward. It simply existed, comfortable and unforced.

When she did speak, her voice was calm and even, but not distant.

"I appreciate that," she said quietly. "More than you probably realize."

Her gaze met his, steady and searching, not looking for weakness but for sincerity. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her.

"What I have learned was not meant to be handed out lightly," Seren continued. "Not because it is dangerous in itself, but because it changes the way you look at people. At motives. At yourself."

She shifted just enough to give the moment a little air, not withdrawing, simply recalibrating.

"Teaching requires trust," she said. "And time. Both are things I prefer to let prove themselves rather than assume."

There was no refusal in it. No evasion. Just honesty.

At his mention of continuing later, elsewhere, a faint hint of warmth touched her expression.

"You are right," Seren agreed. "This is not the place for beginnings. Temples like this are better suited for questions than answers."

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than deference.

"Show me the rest," she said. "Let me understand the space, the people, the rhythm of how things move here."

A brief pause, then something quieter beneath it.

"If we continue this conversation later," Seren added, "I would rather it be somewhere that allows reflection instead of demanding vigilance."

Her eyes held his for another moment, not inviting, not closing the door either.

"Learning does not require urgency," she finished. "It requires presence. We can build toward that."

Then she turned slightly, ready to follow his lead, the understanding between them quiet but unmistakably there, waiting for its proper time rather than insisting on it now.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

With this Kallous nodded and turned to lead her further into the tower. Above the library was a less grand, perhaps less interesting place. But a place that was nevertheless incredibly important for an academy of force users. A collection of small rooms, each soundproofed for total isolation. These were easily identified as rooms meant for meditation and silent contemplation. A place where students could shut out the outside world and allow themselves to touch the force more intimately than they normally would. Kallous had neglected this place in his earlier years, but now this was one of his favourite places to be.

There wasn't much to say about it. A place of solitude for those who needed it. Little more. Simple, and indespensable.

Above that were the more specialized classrooms. Where subjects were taught that were less philosophical in nature. Classrooms for anything from Electronics to Law. History to Military Theory. The students of the Brotherhood tended to be more involved in the Diarchy's inner workings than a lot of other sects of force users did. Many of the Brotherhood were scientists as well as force users. Others were commanders or fleet captains. Others lawyers and govorners. All sorts of people came in, all sorts of people came out.

That concluded the tour of the central tower, though there was certainly more to see that was most of what Kallous believed Seren would be interested in. Workshops could be found throughout the grounds where various trades were learned. And likewise a place called The Forge was dedicated to the crafting of weapons. Lightsabers primarily, though it had the facilities necessary to craft other forms of weaponry and even armor if desired. Nothing else related to philosophical study or force related study could be found. Everything left was more about practical knowledge and skill.

"And that, is the Academy." Kallous concluded, turning to look her way. "I trust you aren't disappointed by what you saw here."

There was more to see on Bastion. But this would conclude her tour of the actual Academy itself, where all of the force sensitives went to learn. Everything else was either landmarks of buildings with official functions. There was the Naval Academy among other things. Though how much interest places like that would be to her, he wasn't sure.

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren took her time answering him.

Not because she was weighing the academy, or measuring it against some internal standard, but because his question had given her an opening she did not feel the need to rush past.

Her gaze lifted to him and, very deliberately, traced its way from his boots to his shoulders, then back again. Not appraising in a clinical sense. Not predatory either. Simply observant, unhurried, and unmistakably intentional.

A faint smile followed.

"Disappointed?" she repeated softly, as if testing the word.

She shook her head once, slow and certain.

"No," Seren said. "Not at all."

Her eyes lingered on his face this time, warmer now, more open.

"What you've built here is…grounded," she continued. "It doesn't try to impress by shouting about what it is. It simply functions. It gives people the space to become something useful instead of something ornamental."

She glanced back toward the tower behind them, then returned her attention to him.

"That tells me a great deal about the academy," she added gently. "And about the person who guides it."

Another brief pause. Then, lightly, almost teasing.

"And if I were judging purely by appearances," Seren said, her gaze flicking once more over him before settling comfortably, "I'd still have no cause for disappointment."

She let that sit between them without embellishment, without retreat, the slow-burn implication left intact rather than pressed.

"Bastion has depth," Seren concluded. "And so do you. I find both…encouraging."

Then she shifted her weight slightly, relaxed, ready to follow wherever he chose to lead next, clearly satisfied with what she had seen, and perhaps a little intrigued by what she had not yet.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"Well... with the academy covered what else is there..." He said, mostly to himself as he considered what else she might like to see. There wasn't a whole lot that was liable to appeal to her. He could certainly show her to a few of the landmarks, but there wasn't much else beside a few monuments worth seeing, and she didn't seem like the kind of person who put much stock in things that are grand without purpose. So he wasn't altogether sure what else to show her. "There's the Courthouse, the Offices of Internal Affairs, and a few other buildings with official function. Though aside from those, most of the rest of the planet is largely mundane. Businesses, police precincts, courthouses, schools and a few other lesser buildings of interest. There's the Naval Academy. And maybe a few others here and there. Any preference for which you'd like to see?"

He said this as he led her back to the shuttle that had brought them here to begin with. Allowing her again to select their next destination. The most prominent of which were the Capital Building, Offices of Internal Affairs, Bastion Precinct, Naval Academy and the Planetary Guard Command Office. Aside from that there were a few more decorative landmarks. And aside from that little else aside from the monotony of daily life for the citizens. Marketplaces, office buildings, apartment buildings, schools and other places where life simply kept going for the average person.

Bastion's simple exterior might look oppressive to someone used to the grandness of Coruscant. But to the people here it was home, a place that was no more than it needed to be. A place of law, order and security.

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren walked beside him without hurry, her attention drifting over the clean lines of Bastion's skyline as they approached the shuttle. It wasn't awe that held her gaze, nor disappointment, but a quiet consideration of what kind of world chose restraint over spectacle.

When he finished listing the options, she turned her head slightly to look at him, an amused softness touching her expression.

"You're asking the wrong question," she said gently.

She slowed just enough to match his pace, hands folding loosely behind her back.

"I could pick a building," Seren continued. "But that would only tell me what Bastion wants visitors to see."

Her eyes met his, steady and thoughtful.

"What I'm more interested in," she added, "is where you would take someone if you weren't trying to explain the planet."

A small pause, then a hint of warmth.

"Not the most impressive place," Seren clarified. "Not the most important on a map. Just the one that tells the truth about how this place lives."

She glanced briefly at the shuttle, then back to him.

"So," she said, tone light but sincere, "where would you suggest?"

She waited without pressure, clearly content to let him choose, not out of indecision, but curiosity about what he valued enough to show her next.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"The truth about how it lives?" He repeated mostly to himself as he mulled over the suggestion, considering for a moment where such a place would be. It wasn't easy truth be told. Most people lived rather individual lives, there were gatherings of course. The Agora was specific to the academy but there were meeting places and libraries for the general populace too. Though those would simply be more of the same. Schools would likewise be fairly dull, they operated on a somewhat similar system as the Academy, though not exactly the same. What else was central to daily life for the people?

Eventually he came to the conclusion, he had never really gone there himself, he had no reason to. But eventually he settled on bringing her to the Market District. There were a number of market districts located throughout the city, but the biggest one was very near. And so he figured bringing her there would do well to sate her curiosity regarding the life of the people of Bastion.

The shuttle would take off and the brief trip would begin. It was perhaps a twenty minute ride to cover the distance, going from a primarily administrative and military section of the city to the core of civilian life. They would come on a place far more vibrant and varied than the architechture she'd witnessed thus far. There was no one word that could describe the whole of it. On the main street various stalls and stands could be seen for a number of curiosities, and along the sides inside the actual buildings, up on the walkways and upper levels of those buildings were countless smaller shops. Ranging from book shops, to tech shops, grocers and all other forms of commerce.

"Here we are." He said standing up and stepping out of the shuttle, and even offering a hand to help her out if she chose to take it. "I will confess I have not once been here myself. So my usefulness as a guide will be... subpar at best, in this place."

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not hesitate when he offered his hand. She placed her own in his with quiet confidence, letting him steady her as she stepped down from the shuttle, the contact unremarkable on the surface and quietly meaningful beneath it. She did not withdraw immediately once her feet were on solid ground, either, as if acknowledging the gesture rather than treating it as a formality.

Her gaze lifted, taking in the market with measured interest. The sound alone was different from the academy and the administrative districts. Voices overlapping, vendors calling out prices, the hum of generators and foot traffic, the low, constant rhythm of people simply living their lives. It was messier. Less controlled. More honest.

"This is closer," she said at last, her tone thoughtful rather than impressed. "Not to the surface of Bastion, but to its pulse."

She glanced back at him, the faintest curve at the corner of her mouth.

"You do not need to be a guide here," Seren continued calmly. "Markets teach themselves, if you are willing to watch."

Her fingers loosened from his hand only enough to turn slightly, orienting them both toward the main thoroughfare, but she stayed close, unhurried, matching his pace rather than pulling ahead.

"Besides," she added, voice lower now, more personal, "there is something fitting about learning this together. You know the structure of Bastion. I know how to listen to what moves beneath it."

Her eyes drifted across the stalls, the people, the quiet negotiations and small exchanges happening everywhere at once.

"If we are looking for the truth of how it lives," Seren said, "then neither of us needs to lead. We only need to pay attention."

She looked back at him again, steady and present.

"Show me what draws your eye," she finished softly. "I will do the same."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous assisted the lady from the shuttle. And once she was standing on solid ground he turned his attention to the marketplace they were now visiting. He himself had never been here, as he had mentioned, so he had no idea what he was getting into. Though he supposed it was a good thing for him to be here as well, to actually see this side of Bastion for himself. He had been told about what he was protecting as one of the Diarchy's soldiers, but he'd never actually seen what he was keeping safe. What he was helping to nurture.

He let his eyes scan the area around him, and he drank in all the details of the place he now found himself in. And he found himself enjoying the sight. All the people going about their business, living their lives seemingly unhurried, uninhibited and safe. What stood out to him the most was the sheer variety of things to be seen. There were so many options... it was staggering just how much was here. He wasn't sure he personally liked being in such a busy, noisy environment. He'd been on battlefields before, and they weren't quiet, but this wasn't that, and for some reason he found it far mor disquieting than any killing grounds he'd been on. Nevertheless he couldn't help but appreciate it.

"There's so much here." He said quietly, almost as if he were thinking aloud rather than speaking to her, marvelling at the scale of it all. Why did there need to be four clothing stores on one street? There were no less than six book stores he could see from where they were, and a number of others. There was even a tourism agency, that would help arrange for trips to other planets in Diarchy space where the citizens could go for a vacation if they chose to, and if they had the money for it. Anything from luxury resorts to hunting on wild planets with minimal civilized presence.

"What exactly are you looking for if I may ask?" He questioned, genuinely curious what she expected to learn here. He was able to read and listen to the force with immense ease, but people was another matter. He was an isolated individual most of the time, so he saw buisiness, noise and commerce. Little else, and certainly nothing special. So he figured he would ask the woman who wanted to see this place what she was hoping to find.

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren stood beside him for a moment without answering, letting the question sit where it was rather than rushing to fill the silence. Her gaze moved steadily across the street, not jumping from stall to stall, but following the flow of people instead. The way they paused, doubled back, greeted one another, argued softly over prices, laughed, lingered. The patterns beneath the noise.

Only then did she speak.

"I am not looking for a thing," she said quietly, her tone even, unhurried. "Not an object, or a service, or a place to stand and point at."

She shifted slightly closer to him, not pressing, simply aligning their vantage points so they were seeing the same stretch of street.

"I am looking for how they move when no one is directing them," Seren continued. "What they choose when there is no order given. What they spend time on when survival is not the only concern."

Her eyes lingered briefly on a family arguing good-naturedly over a stall, then on an older citizen sitting off to the side, watching the crowd rather than participating in it.

"Markets are honest places," she added. "People reveal their priorities without realizing they are doing it. Comfort. Curiosity. Distraction. Hope."

She glanced back at him then, studying his reaction more than the stalls.

"You see commerce," Seren said gently. "I see the result of safety holding long enough for choice to exist."

A pause, softer now.

"You protect Bastion as an idea," she went on. "This is Bastion as a lived reality."

Her gaze returned forward, a faint, thoughtful curve at her mouth.

"If I learn anything today," Seren finished, "it will be subtle. And if I learn nothing at all, that will tell me just as much."

She finally looked to him again, calm and present.

"What about you?" she asked. "Now that you are standing in the middle of what you've been protecting… what do you notice first?"

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

He understood what she was telling him, that she wasn't looking for anything tangible, but rather a pattern. It made sense enough, he'd already understood that she was looking for insight rather than any sort of object. And it was the particular type of insight she was looking for that he was interested in. And she explained it easily enough.

Then she asked him what he saw when he looked at this place. And he took a moment to consider this, once again turning inward, and listening. What did he see? No, that wasn't the question. The question was what did he feel when he saw this. What were his innermost thoughts when he saw the lives that were being lived. The lives that he stood to defend, and the carefree life of peace and wisdom he hoped to bring to the rest of the galaxy. He did not answer her question immediately, thinking for several moments before finally giving her his answer.

"I see peace." He finally answered. "There's a lot of noise sure, there's a lot of people moving to and fro, disagreements, people getting excited or angry about various things. It's chaotic in the physical sense... but I see a people liberated from many hardships. A people concerned more with grades and friendships than with survival or food. It's not perfect, nothing truly is, but it's peaceful."

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not answer him right away. She let his words settle, not only in the space between them but within herself, as though she were weighing them against something older and quieter than thought. Her gaze moved slowly across the market again, not scanning this time, not assessing, but observing in the way one does when listening for resonance rather than detail.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and unhurried, carrying the same steadiness she had offered him before.

"That is not an obvious answer," she said softly, "and it is not a naïve one either, which is why it matters."

Her eyes returned to him, thoughtful rather than probing.

"Most people mistake peace for quiet," Seren continued, "or for order imposed so tightly that nothing dangerous can move within it. What you are describing is something far rarer, a kind of peace that allows motion, disagreement, even excess, without collapsing into fear."

She gestured subtly toward the crowd, toward the overlapping lives and small, unremarkable moments unfolding all around them.

"These people are not unburdened," she said evenly, "they are simply burdened by things that do not threaten their existence, and that distinction changes everything about how a society thinks, plans, and hopes."

There was no judgment in her tone, only quiet recognition.

"Grades, friendships, petty rivalries, small ambitions," Seren went on, "these are luxuries that only exist when survival has already been secured by someone else."

Her gaze lingered on him now, not heavy, but intent.

"The fact that you see that, and that you value it without romanticizing it, tells me something important about you," she said. "You are not protecting an ideal. You are protecting conditions."

She let that sit for a moment before continuing.

"Peace like this does not announce itself," Seren added quietly. "It hides in inconvenience, in noise, in the freedom to care about things that do not matter in the grand sense. And it survives only because someone, somewhere, understands that it is fragile even when it looks ordinary."

There was no smile on her face, but there was warmth in her eyes.

"If this is what you see," she concluded, her voice steady, "then you are already closer to the truth of this place than most who walk through it every day without ever asking themselves why it exists at all."

She turned her gaze back to the market, standing beside him rather than ahead of him, as though inviting him to keep seeing, not for answers, but for understanding.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

The woman broke down what he had said into more complicated, more lengthy sentences. An analysis of his meaning that was perhaps more detailed than it needed to be. Though she always went somewhere with it, it wasn't like she was saying things just to say them. Though it might seem she was thinking aloud to some. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. Either way her response to him demonstrated that she understood what he told her, and not just on a surface level.

Though it was also a little jarring, to have someone who could take a statement so simple as "I see peace" and be able to seemingly understand him on a deeper level. He didn't necessarily hate it, it told him that this woman had a great talent for insight. With her skill with Umbrakineticism and what she explained about exactly that, it did make a lot of sense. Nevertheless he was not used to being read so easily.

He didn't answer immediately, and eventually he didn't answer at all. He didn't think he needed to. He told her what he saw, and she saw more of him from his answer. And she seemed all too happy to simply stand there with him and appreciate the sight before them. Most might look out on a mountain range, or a forest, or a snowy plain, or the vastness of space and be mesmerized by its natural beauty. And he was no exception, he had a great appreciation for the various sights to be seen across the galaxy. But there was something different about seeing the people.

It wasn't the most scenic image in front of him, but he saw something there that mattered. And that kept his attention for a while.

And he said nothing, content to stand and wait for his guest to be ready to move on.

Seren Gwyn

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not rush the quiet. She let it exist for a few more breaths, long enough that it felt chosen rather than awkward, before she shifted her weight slightly and turned her head just enough for him to catch the movement.

Her voice, when it came, was gentle and practical, as though she were offering an anchor rather than breaking a moment.

"If we continue standing here much longer," she said softly, "we are going to start philosophizing ourselves into hunger, and that never improves anyone's clarity."

There was the faintest trace of dry amusement in her tone, not quite a smile, but something close.

"This place teaches more honestly over a shared meal than it ever will from a distance," Seren continued, her gaze drifting toward the clustered stalls and the scents threading through the air. "Food is one of the few constants that strips away performance. People are themselves when they eat."

She finally looked back at him, open, unhurried, inviting rather than directing.

"Let us find something simple," she added. "Nothing ceremonial. Just enough to sit, observe, and exist among them for a while before we move on."

She did not step ahead of him, only angled her body slightly in the direction of the market, leaving the choice of when to follow him entirely.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous had almost allowed him to get lost in his musings. He tended to do that nowadays. Many times his master, the Diarch, had found him peering into the void, lost in thought and contemplation. It happened perhaps too often. Kallous wasn't one to really consider the physical very much anymore, and his considerations had gone far more into the metaphysical. The nature of thought, philosophy and other such considerations. If one didn't know better one might think he were simply a peculiar Jedi Consular.

He was snapped from his myriad of musings, bordering on reflexive meditation, by Seren's gentle effort to shake them from their stupor. And suggested that they get something to eat.

How inconsiderate of him. She just got here from a long trip, and he hadn't even given any thought that she might be hungry, and had been leading her all through the academy and across the city for a few hours now.

"Of course." He said with a gentle smile, as he stepped forward with her.

And the two of them would leave their spot to find a restaurant somewhere nearby. It wasn't hard, and soon enough the two of them were sitting down at a table overlooking a decent portion of the marketplace. With food ordered the two of them had a comfortable spot to continue conversing as they waited for their meals.

"I'm curious, Miss." Kallous began to ask. "You've explained your reason for leaving the Jedi behind, and that much I understand, but why go to the Sith? It isn't as if practicing the force is outright illegal, not to my understanding. And going to the Sith seems like it would put a target on your back that you don't need. Why them? Why anyone? Why not practice and study on your own?"

Seren Gwyn