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Private Balance Point

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SCOUNDRELS
CHAPTER III: BALANCE POINT
THE VALLEY OF THE JEDI, RUUSAN
[some time prior to the Kaggath]

Auteme Auteme | THEME

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A cigarette burned bright through the night as Damien sat on the foil of his Eta-2, his elevated position giving him a prime viewing point to the pilgrims entering the valley below. They proceeded inwards with a reverence to the place that was awe-inspiring to see, the echoes of their chorus of voices bellowing from within the confines of its statue-laden walls. He'd arrived upon the eve of the anniversary to a great battle that once happened there. It had left the place barren and lifeless for hundreds, if not thousands of years to come. Yet the force persisted, growing even stronger with time, if you were to ask some of the pilgrims who'd made the journey there since they were but young children themselves.

Damien had not gone there to show reverence. Ruusan had fallen under the sway of the Black Sun, and until his dealings with a certain member of their organization had been finished, it was one of the few places where he didn't have to look over his shoulder for a threat. It had just so happened that the Valley itself was rather alive these past few days. The collective emotion of the pilgrims below had seemingly called to him on his flight overhead, and in a rare moment of letting the force take the wheels, it was the valley where his ship would go. A beacon activated not long after he'd landed, delivering an encrypted signal across the galaxy to a specific individual who he wanted to see.

Life had grown so different in only two years of being apart. Kyric Kyric was missing, and none of Damien's previous efforts had led to him being any closer to figuring out where his brother had gone. His exile from the Core had cost him everything, it had seemed. The ties he'd pushed and pulled away from had inevitably snapped, sending the rogue on a journey of his own through a galaxy he no longer looked at with excited eyes.

His dealings with Black Sun had sapped the vigor out of him over the months since he'd been forced under their employ. Tired eyes persisted where a searing fire and love for life had once claimed. There were plenty who would've given up, who would've accepted their newfound fate and made the best of it. It wasn't as if the underworld didn't have its perks, after all. There was a freedom that came with it, but such freedoms were meaningless when they were given within the confines of a gilded cage. The leverage over his head was too heavy a burden for him to simply forget, and the conspiracies that unraveled since his employment with Black Sun would only confirm that the Core was no longer a safe place for him to be.

Visions through the force clouded his mind over the many restless nights that followed. He called out to Kyric Kyric with all his might, an outstretched hand reaching through the force to find his lost sibling with all of his might. Nothing worked, and he'd run out of options, yet still he found himself accompanied by his brother in his dreams. The older of the two would tell him it'll be alright, that he could get through this on his own if needed. Stubborn as Damien could be, it was through these moments that his resolve grew stronger. No matter what he was-- he was alive. Damien could feel it down to his bones, and he trusted the force enough to never give up hope, even when the darkness he carried weighed upon him like a burden.

Yet the light within him burned bright, even through the dark. Auteme Auteme worried enough that she too would reach out to him, much like he'd attempted to do with his brother on many occasions. It was her light that helped to balance him out when his burdens grew too heavy to carry, and the wisdom she dispensed would inevitably keep him alive, when all else seemed lost.

It was in the wake of the attack on Nar Shadaa that the two would plan to meet. She felt his struggles before he could even physically call her, and despite his insistence to meet her outside of Black Sun's territory, they eventually settled upon meeting on Ruusan. Damien would give Razmir Tezhyn Razmir Tezhyn a heads-up of him leaving, if only to insist on him keeping his spies at a comfortable distance unless he was looking to get them killed. Whether or not the gangster would hold up to his word, Damien would never find out, but so far he'd sensed nothing off since his arrival.

Perched on the wing of his starfighter with a chain of cigarettes entering his hand, eventually a small pile of cigarette butts littered the ground beneath him. He'd tossed the next cigarette butt into the growing pile right before they coalesced into the air, the sudden increase in the winds around him following the landing vector of a familiar vessel next to his own.

Damien smiled softly as he pushed himself off of his father's starfighter, shoving his hands into his pockets whilst he waited for it to finish touching down. It had been a while since he'd been genuinely happy, and he hoped to make the best of it while it lasted.





 
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The old passenger shuttle -- modified to look less like the Alliance diplomatic ship it was -- settled lightly onto the ridge, a hundred meters off the Eta-2's side. Perhaps over-safe, but that was how the droid brain programmed into the ship interpreted Auteme's request. If it were her flying, it'd have been two hundred meters.

But she crossed the gap in no time at all, her son shining bright even among the stars from Ruusan. Her first instinct, as always, was unconditional: a hug, a kiss on the forehead- she had to force it a little, how tall he'd gotten- and a smile bright as sun.

"Oh, my son." She knew how he was -- like his father, more than her, but she felt that pride swell in her heart when he smiled back. Nothing brought her more joy.

And then, the usual: "Oh, you haven't been smoking too much, have you? You know what it does. Just- oh, you look tired. Is everything okay? Have you been eating? I stopped at- doesn't matter, I have things for you if you need. We can fit it in your fighter just fine. How are you? Did you sleep okay last night? You have a lot of- up, straight," a tap on the back, "lots of tension built up. Don't forget your breathing exercises. Do you want a snack? I have pork buns."


 
Damien couldn't help but smile despite feeling a bit overwhelmed, their meeting being the first time he'd seen his mother since he'd fled from Coruscant that day. It wasn't his choice, but in the end she'd been safe, and his visions had not come true. "I'm alright, ma." He eventually cut in, raising his hands up long enough to bring her questions and observations to a halt, then wrapped them around her in the tightest hug he could give.

"I'm alive. You know i'm a survivor-- just like you." He squeezed a bit tighter. The holovids didn't do justice when compared to seeing her in person, but eventually he'd let go, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her with watery eyes that he quickly dried up on her shoulders with another well-timed hug. "Enough about me, though. What about you? I mean... is everything okay? What are you even doing coming here in that rust-bucket of a ship?!" He made sure hid displeasure was his evident by giving it a few hard taps against the side with his fist.

It was his time to chide back at her. "Hell, I'm surprised you weren't stopped by pirates, or some thugs from Black Sun! I thought I told ya they're pretty active around here, mom!" He gritted his teeth, silently reminding himself to escort her off the world in case a third-party decided to pull something on her way out.

Damien's gaze softened shortly after he finished chastising her. "I'm sorry i've been gone for so long. I wish I could come back, but...things are complicated right now." Damien didn't want to admit it, but within the presence of her light, he found himself being honest. "I got into some trouble."

Auteme Auteme
 
"Yes, yes, ja, ja. I don't know anything about ships, you know that," she chided back. "But you called." Nothing would've stopped her -- not that she hadn't heeded his warnings. She wasn't keen on crossing any pirates anytime soon; after all, that would've delayed her from seeing her son.

Trouble wasn't new, but the way he felt about it was. She paused a moment, then said, "Let's sit." She went with him to his fighter, allowed herself to take in the view, then looked at him.

"Tell me."


 
Damien leaned back against his fighter, settling in next to his mother with a sigh meant to relax away the stress he'd been keeping within him these days. Even the cigarette that moved to his lips was more of a nervous habit than it was a craving for the chemicals within. He knew he was the king at screwing things up, but the fact that she showed meant that hopefully he didn't jack things up so much this go around.

"Black Sun's got me roped in with them deep, mom." Damien spoke up, his eyes skirting away to idle upon the procession moving in the valley beneath them. Anything to not look at her, where he'd be subject to scrutiny for things he'd already knocked himself down for. "I..I .did some things, after I left the Order." It wasn't long after his seventeenth birthday that he chose to step away, and by extension choosing to leave the nest at the same time. Damien punched a fellow Padawan just days after him and his peers had been raised from being Leaners, and were awaiting to be assigned to a Jedi teacher.

"...It was hard, when I left. I did some things I wasn't proud of, things that would've gotten me put in prison if I'd gotten caught, or killed perhaps."

He was always a bit of a maverick as a Youngling, with many of his teachers having doubts that he'd ever be able to conform, or even willing to understand the teachings of the Jedi at all. Efforts to throw him out would've happened sooner were it not for his mother being the Chancellor, and a famous Jedi herself. Add on the fact that he was of the Dooku bloodline as well, and had full potential to be a powerful force user with the right guidance, and the odds remained in his favor despite his record.

"...But it was after I left Coruscant this last time that got me where i'm at. A bit of evading the authorities wouldn't be too hard to beat...but someone pulled the strings to rope my name into something big. Something I can't just wait out, or sit around and expect it to blow off if i'm ever gonna have the chance to come back home."

And then he punched one of his peers. Broke his nose clean, and regretted it not a single second in the half-decade that had passed. His mother protested when he chose to resign, and the two had their biggest blow-out since....well, ever.
And then he left.

Years later and now they were here, meeting in secret, her son a criminal for all intent and purpose of the word.

Damien took another drag, blowing the smoke out at an arc into the cool evening air. He leaned his head against her shoulder, resting his eyes softly shortly after. "His name's Razmir Tezhyn Razmir Tezhyn . Black Sun Crime Lord with an arrogant streak and enough connections to bury my civilian-record if I don't work for him."

And there it was, laid out as bare onto the table as he could say.

Auteme Auteme
 
She put a hand in his hair, gave him a kiss on the top of his head. She worried for his future, but for now, there was a weight off his shoulders; she carried the burden with him tonight.

"Maybe I should've pardoned you," she half-joked. Maybe she should've; maybe she would've. But if it was not this trouble, it'd be something else -- again she thought of Lucien, how far he traveled, how quickly he moved. Now somebody had an interest in him, and her son was grounded, tied.

A part of herself she often forgot about had that brief moment of rage -- the idea that her son would be in any way wholly beholden to the will of another, particularly a crime lord, had her seething. Yet she looked at him and did not see the end of his path, only new winds and complications.

"I can see why you're holding so much tension," she said. "What can I do to help? Or, do you have a plan?"

Or maybe it was simpler than even that -- that he would go through with what this Tezhyn asked of him, and wanted to know that his mother's view of him wouldn't change, no matter what he did. She wondered what her answer would be, only briefly, before turning to his answer.


 
"Maybe I should've pardoned you,"

Damien laughed, having accepted that what she did was probably for the best. He was younger and even more dumb, and a pardon would've only emboldened him to be more stupid, and not more smarter. Perhaps he would've gotten his act together for a few weeks, or maybe a few months, but eventually things would've fell into the same circle as before.

Outside of his brother, most of his 'friends' were scoundrels, and not the best the galaxy had to offer. They ran in bad circles, and were involved in crimes ranging from a spectrum of petty to heinous.

Eventually their influence would've gotten to him; the allure of the high-flying life, the credits rolling in and the girls...it was all a façade at the end of the day. But to a teenager who'd flunked out of the Jedi? It felt like a dream. A fever dream, but a dream nonetheless.

And then he sighed. He was much older now, though only by a few years. Damien was a young man, with a bit more wisdom, but that same penchant for trouble had landed him where he was in the present.

"I can see why you're holding so much tension," she said. "What can I do to help? Or, do you have a plan?"

"I... can't ask you to get involved, mom. He's got you in his sights too. Made sure I was aware of the consequences if you put your nose in things more than you shouldn't." Damien shook his head vehemently to ward off the suggestion from lingering further.

The procession beneath them had reached the end, though the lights of their torches still glimmered feint in the distance. "He's got pull with folks you might've knew back in the Senate. Folks who'd smile in your face and then set you up for corruption charges if you don't fold to what he wants."

He would leave out the part where Raz would usually just have that person killed if it suited him on purpose. "Black Sun's got somethin' planned, and it'll be happening soon." Damien stopped for a moment to reach into his jacket pocket, retrieving a small item and placing it in his mother's hand. It was a lothwolf tooth, all black and usually worn around Damien's neck.

The thing was memento from his father, but now he was handing it back to his mom. "...and i'll have one shot to pull of a gambit smooth enough to finesse this bastard, or I might end up screwed ten ways to Malachor with no way out." Despite the actual severity of what he was facing, he still managed out a genuine chuckle, hoping it would disarm her from worrying too much about her foolish kid.

Auteme Auteme
 
Ah, but that was one of the many curses of motherhood; the worries never went away. The change came when she knew there was little she could do about it. Her son, so bright in his way, would do as he needed to, make his own way. He would go many places, but nowhere without her support.

"I learned something new, recently- well, a year ago, now," she said, taking the loth wolf tooth. She remembered it, the dozen sunlights they'd woken up under, the times she'd toyed with it before he woke, the times they put on a flick but were watching nothing but each other.

"Out at Manaan. Beautiful place, if you ever have the time. The Order of Shasa, protectors of the Selkath -- they have a couple neat tricks, but at their core is a sense for truth that's impossible to fool.

"Breathe deep. Listen to the words, see the very flow of the air that carries them -- deception is against the very nature of the galaxy. It carries like oil in water. Focus on that. No matter the medium, no matter the person, you can feel falsehoods. They grate against reality, give like sand underfoot. Focus, and your mind can parse what is real and what is not."


She was patient, as ever, but as he had given her a gift, she had to provide in turn. She imparted what she could of this power to him, but she was out of practice lying; she was a poor subject. Nonetheless, she did what she could -- as with everything, the rest would be up to him.


 


Damien looked up at her, a single brow shifting higher than the other. "Manaan?" He started to say, but kept his lips closed in order to let his mother finish. She had a way with words that cut through the fog and confusion that otherwise occupied his mind when Jedi-speak entered the equation. It was hard enough for him to listen when the force called out directly, but somehow his attention never slipped when her voice raised up to speak.

He couldn't help but smile, in any case. That small grin existing where something more coy or neutral usually rested was evident even then. It was as if he never left home, or that she didn't care what he'd become despite her best efforts to steer him the opposite direction. Already he could see the practical use of that kind of skill in his line of work, but the next thought that followed was to wonder if his mother intended for it be used for something else.

His lips parted briefly, words wanting to come out right then and there, yet nothing following except a brief flash of dissapointment over his visage. He peered towards the valley once more, not wanting to look at her as a wave of shame crashed over him all at once. He coped with his choices plenty, choosing to numb himself to the life he'd chosen instead of facing his reality head on. It was all the more reason for him wanting to break away, yet still he was unsure as to what even would follow.

"...Mom.. look, I-" Damien spoke up, almost too quiet before the confidence to say what he wanted began to rise. "If I come out of this in one piece, can we meet up again?" He raised his eyes to look up at her once more. There was so much more he wanted to tell her. So many things he wanted to make up for, for all the time lost and spent pulling away. "On Theed-- in a month."




 
"Giving me something to look forward to, are we?" A smile, but the joke wore off fast, and she nodded. "Of course. I'll make time."

Once, in that long series of parental experimentation, she'd gone the nagging route -- a bit of exasperation, a bit of disappointment, a bit of pressing. It'd deepened Damien's resistance to her; seeing now that her support caused that twinge of shame to come out of him told her that that route had been wrong. He knew what was right, he'd feel what he'd feel. She gave him space.

"Theed, mm. You know- I've never actually been, strangely enough. You know we're related to a noble house there? Very strange," she said.

"Anyways. Food? I have..." a dozen different things, all offered and given or refused. And then more things; an extra set of clothes, a toothbrush, a few Alliance credits, or other money she'd picked up in the galaxy's fringes that was absolutely useless here but couldn't sit without being offered. All the way until the moment his ship was another speck among the stars, she thought of things she could do, things he should have.

And then he was gone, off again. That part of her worried, that part of her leapt with joy.

She returned to her ship, the same she'd arrive at Theed in a month from then.


 

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