Bizitza Arnasten Berriro

[Kamon Vondiranach]

Her reaction was amusing. Some people didn't like to learn things, especially from him. Suffice to say, there were a lot of stupid people in the galaxy. No amount of anything would ever change that fact. The stupid people tended to breed more than the smart ones, which only made things worse as far as he was concerned.

"Relax," he said, reaching over to lay his hand upon hers. "Relax and listen to what you hear around you."

At this he quieted, allowing her to listen to the sounds of other people having polite conversation. A young couple was trying to discretely discuss their plans for a rendezvous that evening. Others were discussing their work. A scrape of a shifting chair, the clap of a fork touching tray. A gentle laugh. The whirring of the oxygen supply opening to allow more oxygen to flow into the room. The white noise. In essence, he was trying to get her to relax her mind and hear the noise, all of it, and let it wash away the frustration that she felt at not inherently knowing how to reach out and touch the Force. The sooner she did that, the sooner she would learn.

Though he thought he should probably have saved the lesson for another day, when she was rested and more used to being up and about, he decided that the moment nearly demanded that he do something rather than just allowing her to languish in frustration.

"Let everything go, and feel. The beat of your heart. My hand upon yours. My heart. The hearts of others around you. The Force flows through all life. Let your mind be still, and feel it."

Most Sith would teach their students to touch the Force through pain or some other equally brutal method. It would be coaxed out of them in their anger and suffering. That was a powerful connection, but there were times when one needed that connection without such emotions, and he had always felt a stronger connection when he learned to demand the connection, rather than requiring external stimuli. It was also his hypothesis that those who learned in this manner ultimately had a stronger connection when in times where they felt anger, pain, and fear, than those who only ever knew a connection because of those stimuli. He was aiming to make her stronger than them. Not weaker.

"When you feel it, you will see it. Then grasp it."

|[member="Kith Verloren"]|​

 

[Darth Caecus]

When he reached out his hand, her eyes flickered swiftly down to where they still before back up to him. She wasn't uncomfortable, or surprised. But she watched. It was, perhaps more than anything else thus far exhibited, the very essence of what she did and was.

Which was perhaps why she didn't close her eyes to listen when he instructed it, as might be natural for someone else. But she settled against the chair, letting these sounds wash over her, registering some of them only just subconsciously as others impacted on the surface of her attention. His voice joined in again and she turned her focus back to him.

Heartbeat. His was slower than hers was. Not by much, but just enough that the cadence was off. It wasn't a sound she could listen to with intent, but as she went looking for it, she added one heartbeat after another to the low metronome that pulsed in her core.

From there, it was an easy next step. Barely a step at all.

It was like a well worn trail she hadn't noticed before. Perhaps simply because she hadn't yet looked for it, beneath the ferns and bracken of her soul. But it was there, waiting, and her feet tread upon it with increasing surety and familiarity.

She didn't have the control she needed to do anything great. But for one moment, one strand of time, the heartbeats of everyone in the room pulsed together in time. To do so dragged half a dozen of them out of rhythm, but it was only for a single, frozen instant before they returned to normal again.

Her eyes focused on [member="Ignus"] just after that. But the question she asked next was probably not what he expected.

At first she looked pleased. Then she frowned as something from earlier listening floated to the top did you see her feet?. Then she looked down under the table and back up at him.

"Is there something wrong with my shoes?"

She didn't sound upset, or annoyed. Or even particularly invested. Just puzzled.

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

For a moment in time he wasn't sure that she'd actually listened to him. She didn't close her eyes, and the only reaction she made was to look down at their hands. Mostly the fact that his hand was upon hers. It didn't seem like she was taking him seriously until he started to feel a second presence poking around, reaching out even to him. He felt it draw upon him, feeling the beat of his very existence, and then he felt it move on to the others in the room, likely doing the same to them. That was good. It told him that even though she was impassive, she was actually listening to what he had to say instead of shunning his guidance. Progress.

And then he felt it. For a brief moment his heart jumped out of sync with itself and he felt as if his body were falling. He didn't know what she'd done, exactly, but whatever it was, it felt like death in the kind of grab-your-chest-and-fall-down-with-agonized-breathing sort of way. And then it was done. Just like that it was over with. More or less, by altering heart rhythms, she'd induced a minor heart attack. Not healthy. And he noted that the others in the room were feeling much the same way. He was about to say something when she asked about her shoes.

"What?" he asked, before looking down under the table. "Oh. I don't personally mind, but the others probably think it's odd that you're wearing pink shoes with monochromatic clothing. They kind of stand out."

He quickly tapped the table a few times to order more water, and thankfully it was brought quickly as he downed another glass of it.

"Do you know what you did to everyone in this room, Kith? Was it instinctive or did you do it intentionally?"

|[member="Kith Verloren"]|​

 

[Darth Caecus]

"Pink?" She looked genuinely surprised.

Peering back under the table, her frown deepened. They looked a particularly warm shade of grey to her. But there was a slightly more pressing concern, in truth, and her attention turned back to [member="Ignus"] . She was about to answer and then she paused, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.

"I don't know," she said truthfully, expression turning thoughtful. Her answer came slowly, as if she were tasting the words as they came, making certain they were accurate before they met open air.

"There were.... all of these heartbeats. All of them.... just out of rhythm. I.... didn't really think about it," she paused, consternation writ clearly across her face. I didn't really think about it were words that clearly made her uncomfortable to admit.

"I shouldn't have done that." It was said without significant inflection- an observation, rather than any self recrimination. "But I could have done more." She didn't seem perturbed by the concept of the ability to reach out and force a heart to beat, even for an instant, as she chose it to. But it did seem to bother her that she hadn't done it with deliberation.

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

The shock he heard and saw when she was told her shoes were pink clued him in that she had no idea. That and the exclamation. In so doing, she'd essentially told him that she was color blind. That was the only way she could not know the shoes were pink. She'd been surprised, not curious, after all. He hadn't been aware of that detail of her existence. It was something he would have to look into if he ever cloned her again, not that he had any intention of doing so. Though he supposed if he did he would clone her as a child so he could raise her. It was likely to be the only way he ever acquired a family after all. Being the type to spend most of your time alone was somewhat detrimental to procreation.

Either way, she broke out of that and responded to his question about what she'd done. The fact that she hadn't really been conscious of what she was doing was both surprising and unsurprising. He kept finding that he had high hopes that she would be immediately as powerful as her predecessor even though he knew that she wouldn't be. It was difficult to get around that line of thinking though he tried his best to do so.

"I know you can do more than what you did," he said, avoiding saying that she could do worse. "You need to be careful, though. Life is a precious thing and we shouldn't squander it. Kill when necessary, but don't kill wantonly. What you did could have killed someone, though, if anyone in here had a serious heart condition."

That wouldn't have been fun to deal with. Most of the people that lived on Crakull in the IB base were very close to one another. He encouraged them to form relationships in order to combat the loneliness of isolation as none of them ever left the place. If she had accidentally killed someone, someone else would have been distraught, and he'd likely have lost two valuable employees for the price of one. He was certain that he needed to find a way to open Kith up to her feelings and emotions. If she became as cold as her predecessor was, then no amount of work on his part would ever convince her that his plans for the galaxy were the right ones. She'd end up in another Castameer situation.

"Tomorrow, after you've rested, I want to do some training with you. You likely won't enjoy it, but I think it will be beneficial."

He sat back in his seat once more and rubbed a hand at his chin.

"On a lighter note, did you enjoy your meal?"

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

"Millennia ago," Sam said to the figure of Darth Molior. "There was a Sith Lord named Darth Sion. He lived as little more than a corpse, refusing to die despite eternal pain. Eventually he let go of life of his own free will, he realised that death was not the end, it was peace." Sam stared at the Sith woman before continuing. "You remind me of him, from what I know. Why do you still cling to life when you can get what you want through becoming one with the Force. The galaxy shall forever be a noisy place no matter what you do but in the next plain of existence, everything is silence. Everything is as you crave."

Sam glanced over her shoulder, the others had to arrive soon. Her stalling for time could only last so long...

The arrival of [member="Samka Derith"] could not be ignored. Turning to face her, the dead Sith Lord watched her impassively, listening with no obvious sign of interest. Just a sense of 'might as well'. Molior tilted her head slightly to the side as the girl finished.

"You talk too much."

Apparently, Molior wasn't the type to monologue. As before, she raised a hand, flicking her fingers downward, as though turning off a switch. She would stop Samka's heart, silence the beating and hopefully, the grating, accusing voice as well.

****

He cared. There was no doubt about that, from his words to the look on his face. He was gentle about it, yes, but the idea that she could have killed someone truly bothered him. She couldn't know all of the reasons behind it, the layered intent, but the simple fact was there for her to see. And she had the feeling that the majority of people, if not everyone else, in the room likely felt much the same.

Her frown and the furrow of her brows was more introspective now. She hadn't been alive for long. Barely hours. She hadn't had very much time yet to sort through not only who she was- but who she wanted to be. She knew more about who the first was than about herself now in this moment.

But what was wrong with her that, other than the vague sense of disquiet that she hadn't been fully in control, that it hadn't bothered her if someone had died?

His question broke her out of the mire of her own thoughts. She blinked slowly, coming back to the table between them, though it took a moment to parse out the last few things he said.

"Enjoy?" Her lips pursed and she looked down at the mostly empty plate. "I think I did, yes," she said slowly. "If that's what that was. Yes. I enjoyed it, thank you."

There were too few experiences to pull from yet. But the desire to repeat a scenario, even if not at that moment, seemed like a good thing to call 'enjoyment.'

Which raised a few concerns about his 'training' tomorrow, but she kept that to herself. She'd have to see, once they were there.

"I am sorry I put your people at risk," she said finally. "I will be more careful in the future."

She meant it. She had a ghost of a lifetime weighing down, only bits and pieces, yes, but one so overwhelming unconcerned with life and death that there was no anchor for her there, even if she had wanted to grab hold. But it did matter that it mattered to him. She would have to start from there.

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

Hesitation. But at least she answered. Likely this was due to the fact that she wasn't entirely sure what emotions were as of yet. He would change that, but not at the moment. For now he figured that it was probably better if she took some time to rest. She'd eaten her first meal, nearly killed everyone in the dining hall, and gotten a small dose of what the galaxy was like. That was certainly enough for one day. What he had planned for the next would require that she get some rest. Thus, he stood from his seat, leaving his dishes on the table for a cleaning droid to take care of. No sense in doing anything else.

"It's quite alright. You're still learning, but I advise caution, and thinking before acting, in the future."

He gave her a smile and motioned for her to join him in standing. Once she'd done so, if she did so, he would start leading her back towards her home within the facility.

"I want you to get some rest. Tomorrow I will begin to train you. Not just in the ways of the Force, but in the ways of the galaxy, and in the ways of the living. I don't intend to treat you like a child, but you are very inexperienced in everything to do with being alive. I know you're smart enough to know that. So I will teach you."

A difficult task, and he wasn't certain how she would take it. Though she was untrained, he knew that Kith was stronger than he. He could feel it whenever he touched her aura in the Force. Such a powerful thing. A beautiful thing. He was both jealous of it, and happy to be near to her, to be guiding her. A strange mixture of feelings to be certain. He didn't really know what to make of it. The last person he'd actually enjoyed being around had disappeared from the face of the galaxy. She'd been intended to play a large role in what he was doing as well, and her disappearance had thrown a wrench into everything. He'd found a way to counter that, but he couldn't do it unless Kith decided she wanted to be a part of the movement.

"What does everything you see look like to you?"

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

Though he led the way, he needn't have, and that soon became obvious. She'd watched carefully on their way here, and could retrace those steps back to her quarters without hesitation. But she also seemed content enough to walk with him.

She listened quietly, thoughtfully, nodding once or twice, though her brows drew together at times.

He was right- she didn't know much. Kith looked down at one of her hands, flexing it slightly. She could feel the play of her muscles, the pull of tendons, the stretch of skin. Her heart beat, something that she was nearly always cognizant of for some reason. The feeling of her feet padding across the floor and how each step sent a million tiny bits of awareness through the rest of her body. She was alive.

So why did she feel so little?

Head tilted, silver blonde hair falling to the side as she looked at him for a moment, considering. Blue-grey eyes flickered around the hallway, expression serious and thoughtful.

"Most things here are shades of grey," she said finally. "In the cafeteria, it was different. There were blues. Yellows. They were soft but.... I liked them I think."

Kith paused, actually stopped in the middle of the hall to look at him.

"Most of the people in the cafeteria had skin like mine. But yours is grey beneath these lines," she reached out, fingers hovering scant centimeters over the tattoos on his face. But she didn't touch him.

"Your eyes are gold," she said finally, her hand dropping slowly. "They are the brightest colour I've seen."

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

Shades of grey. An analysis of the world they lived in, really. There was no black and there was no white. Everything exists in shades of grey. The most pure of Jedi still bore some form of malice in their heart. Even they were not white. The worst Sith still had compassion for something, even if only themselves. They still were not black. There are no simple answers for anything, there is just existence. Live and die as you see fit or as society dictates. That was why wars were waged. It wasn't really about the land, or the money, or anything else, it was about living and dying. Soldiers lived to die. A poor existence, but it was the only one they saw fit to pursue.

When she stopped he paused and turned his gaze upon her. She spoke of his skin tone and the lines and he smiled, nodding. When she said his eyes were golden, he couldn't help but grin a little bit. The fact they were the brightest she'd seen yet was interesting. True, but that could change when she met Cet. Though the dragon was pink in hue so he'd probably just look grey to her unless he spewed fire for her. Unlikely. He only did that when there was something to spew fire at.

"My skin is green. The tattoos are black. Each one represent an achievement I've made in my lifetime. The larger ones are more significant than the smaller. My eyes are actually orange. Darkside users tend to have their eyes turn orange or black, but mine are naturally orange. It's common among my species."

He studied her for a moment.

"Your skin is pale, delicate but unblemished. Your eyes are a slate blue color. Your hair is blonde, like freshly cut straw. Your lips are a soft pink befitting the rest of your complexion. You're quite beautiful, to be honest."

He turned to walk again, a tiny hint of both mirth and adoration touching his eyes that she might catch, though whether she'd understand or not was beyond him. Either way, he continued down the hall. Even if she didn't need him to show her the way, he would take her simply to see her to her rooms. In some respects, Leos was a gentleman. Standards would have told her to expect no such thing from one such as him, but stereotypes were for other Sith. Leos had his own goals, motives, and code of conduct beyond that of the others and he adhered to them religiously. Like killing. He only killed those who deserved it.

Though many deserved it.

"The galaxy is a fickle, lonely place, Kith. Hold onto the friends you make."

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

In truth, she didn't understand the glint in his eye. And his words took her by surprise.

At first, it had been the colours. Like 'pink', she knew, technically, what 'green' and 'orange' were. They had been part of the language that had been deliberately imprinted into her mind long before she was woken up. She simply had no ability to experience them, or even distinguish them from the colours that she could see.

But then he'd started describing her. She didn't know what to make of it. The surprise was split equally between his words and the fact that they left her unbalanced in a deeply unfamiliar way.

Kith hadn't started walking again when he did. She just stood there, watching him with a certain bright confusion that shone through her usually stoic expression. He'd gotten several steps ahead before he spoke again.

"Is that was you are?" She asked softly. Her eyes followed him, but she still hadn't moved. She wasn't sure why that was, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot. As if only here could she parse out the words and feelings that he'd invoked.

"My friend?"

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

When she spoke, and he heard how far away her voice was, he realized that she wasn't following him. Stopping, he turned and looked back at her. She hadn't moved from where she'd been moments before. Frowning slightly, he made his way back towards her. She asked if he was her friend. No, she asked if that was what he was. There was a distinctive difference in that choice of phrasing than simply asking if he was her friend. She wanted more of an answer, but perhaps didn't know that yet. Understandable. Regardless, he needed her to make her own decisions because that was how she would develop into herself. He couldn't spoon feed her choice in life.

"I am your friend, yes."

That much was true. He held no ill intent towards her and rather enjoyed her company. He told her some of his secrets to. In his mind that certainly constituted the role of friendship. There was no reason to beat around the bush on the matter. The old Kith hadn't had friends, to his knowledge. She'd had people that had once been important to her, but they'd died off over the years, leaving her alone. Even the people at Castameer were only subordinates. She'd been a solitary type.

Much like him.

"What I am to you is entirely up to what you want me to be. You are free to make the choices you wish to make, just as you are free to leave if you wish."

It did seem, quite strangely, that she was conflicted in this discussion. On one hand she seemed to understand the concept of friendship to some degree, as she would not have asked if he was her friend otherwise. On the other hand, that concept seemed to not yet be set in stone. That was alright. To every individual, a friend could mean something different. Some people even believed in different levels of friendship. Leos did not believe such, but that didn't mean their belief was wrong. It was as personal as deciding whether someone was beautiful or not. Beauty is, quite simply, in the eye of the beholder. What is beautiful to one may not be to another.

"I'm sure you'll understand better with time."

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

It was remarkably unhelpful.

She watched him from the distance of several paces for a moment before starting to walk again. Sometimes action was easier than thought. Especially when it was uncomfortable or confusing.

Action.

Silence.

They were both familiar on a level she couldn't quantify. And she took solace in them both as she retreated behind them, her mind troubled.

He was her friend. She believed him. But it seemed ever so slightly out of kilter with the levels of effort he had gone to. To bring her here. To bring her life. His patience, his willingness to teach her..... The way he looked at her that she couldn't fully parse.

And why, when he'd called her beautiful, had her heart sped up for a moment?

Was that normal for one she would call 'friend?' Would she do the same for him, if the situation were reversed? She didn't know. Not yet.

It was too much for someone who could number their life in hours to grapple with.

She was quiet, contemplative, as they finished threading through the facility and back to her quarters. She paused outside the door. Her face was once again impassive, but there was still a furrow between her brows that had not yet eased.

"Thank you," she said, though she didn't qualify for what, exactly.

"I am.... tired. I think I'll rest now."

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

Eventually she moved again. He turned to walk with her. Apparently she'd either been satisfied with his answer or figured it would take more contemplation. Either way, he walked with her back to her room in silence. She did pause outside the door and thank him, which was nice, actually. She hadn't needed to thank him for anything. Sure he'd gone to a lot of trouble to bring her into being, and was taking a lot of time to show her things, but he enjoyed it, so it wasn't as if she was taxing him. Either way, he offered her a smile and nodded his head. She did need her rest, especially with what he had planned for the next day.

"Rest well, Kith. If you need me, there's a comm on the wall, just hit it and tell the person on the other end to come get me."

He waited for her to enter before turning to retire himself. He was quite tired.

Sleep was elusive so he resorted to meditation, spending several hours deep within his mind and within the Force. She never called for him so he assumed that she was resting well enough. Cet, for his part, only lounged at the window and didn't seem particularly keen for his attention. He had days like that. The dragon was quite the curious creature, to be frank. One day he wanted exponentially greater attention, the next none. Either way, he eventually felt well rested and rose, ordering breakfast to be brought to his room and to Kith's. She'd need to eat and there was no point in going to the mess hall.

He cleaned up in the fresher, then ate his food after. A quick perusal of the holonet and he got himself dressed before heading down the hall to see if she was awake, though he had no intention of ringing the chime or calling her to her door. Instead, he would reach out to see what sort of state she was in via the Force. When he was satisfied that she was satiated and calm, he would swiftly reach through the Force and wrap her in a swirling void of darkness. Everything within her room would suddenly be gone. All that would be left was an endless blackness, and a hard floor beneath her. He was aware she might be upset by this, but he wanted to gauge her reaction to the shock just as much as he wanted to open her to her feelings.

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

She had paused just inside the door after it had closed. Blue-grey eyes cast around the main room, a small frown on her face. The room seemed at once too small and too large. She was tired, that was true, but also restless. She needed to move, to act, to quiet the disquiet.

Glancing around, she moved to the center of the room. It took very little effort to pull the small table in the middle out of the way. Only slightly more for the couch. Clearing a space, she sighed. Slowly, she stretched. Every muscle, every tendon in long, slow motions. It started as random movements, but step by step morphed into a series of stances that were both alien and also achingly familiar. She moved with increasing speed and confidence, settling into a rhythm that was as natural as breathing. Her body was in excellent condition, his scientists had seen to that, but she tired faster than pleased her- she could do more with less, she knew.

But it would also take time.

Patience she had. She flexed her fingers, feeling a heaviness and lassitude move through her limbs that would have been impossible an hour ago. Now she could rest. Her eyes settled for a moment on the wall comm before she turned and padded into the bedroom. The lights fell behind her.

****

She slept soundly, dreamlessly. When she awoke, her first action was to repeat the stances from the night before. It seemed.... like the right thing to do. She felt any residual drowsiness melt from her body, the touch of stiffness equally vanishing as she moved across the floor from careful step to careful step.

Not long after, she was stepping out of the 'fresher, toweling dry her hair when the chime on her door sounded. Wrapping a robe around herself and tying it off, she padded to peer out of the room. She was surprised to find breakfast waiting for her and she directed them to the high top table in one corner.

Fresh fruit. Eggs. Whole grain toast. Tropical fruit juice. Each was kindly labeled for her as she picked them over, enjoying (yes, that's what it was) the novelty of tasting each thing in turn.

Kith was moving across the room, considering the challenge of the wardrobe and wondering if more pink lurked in waiting when darkness consumed her.

Her hands lashed out, but there was nothing to strike. Nothing to grab.

Nothing.

She didn't fully register the movement from standing to tense crouch. Her breathing was hard, almost ragged, and her heart hammered in her chest. Her fingertips balanced her against the floor, the only sensation within the sudden abyss.

Was this real? Was she dreaming?

The quiet darkness before awakening had been peppered with dreams- it had been warm and heavy. This was cold, echoing in it's emptiness that she somehow knew went on forever. The only edge, the only physical sensation besides the cold was the hardness of the floor. Her finger tips flexed against it as she looked around, eyes wider than usual.

Very slowly, she stood up. But her knees never fully unbent, her head moved as she turned in a slow, distrustful circle.

But there was nothing there.

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

She was alone.

And yet she wasn't.

He'd waited to see if she would explode in a violent rage of Force energy, but she didn't. She seemed more inclined to take things slowly, as though unknown danger had befallen her, and a sudden movement or sudden reaction might kill her. This was good. Not that she would understand why, but it was good. Reaching into the depths of the illusion, he gently wrapped her in a warm blanket. Not a real one, or even the illusion of one, but in the feeling of one. It oozed softness and warmth as he lay it across her, a beacon in the empty, cold blackness that surrounded her. No, she was not alone here, and she wouldn't be.

"Relax and be still."

His voice would glide through the emptiness, both feeling as if it came from afar, and as if it came from directly beside her at once. While she was locked in the illusion, he quietly slipped into the room and sat with his legs crossed near the door. Closing his eyes, he settled in and sought a deeper connection with the illusion, strengthening it to make it more difficult for her to break out of it. She needed to remain within.

"You are safe within this darkness. It is my own creation. Even if people were to enter your room now, they would not see either of us. They would not hear us. We are in my realm now."

Slowly, he made himself visible to her.

"I apologize for alarming you but I wanted to see how you would react to sudden danger, even though you never were in any."

A hand motioned behind her where a chair appeared.

"Please, sit. This may take a while."

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

"I'll stand."

Her tone was icy.

When she'd heard his voice, felt that warmth, she'd almost called out his name. And when he'd appeared, she'd taken two steps in his direction before she'd frozen in place, his words and the moment gelling in her mind.

He'd done this.

Without warning, without permission.

Anger was new. Unfamiliar and uncomfortable. She tamped it down, hard, flooding it with the gelid waters of distance and ice. Despite the calm in his tone, the comfort still wrapped around her, she stared at him as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. Unnaturally still, only her eyes moved, her lips set in a firm line.

"Talk."

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

"Anger is a powerful emotion. It can be a great asset in battle."

And she was quite angry with him, as he knew she might be. He didn't blame her, but she didn't yet understand how all of these things were connected and designed to help her. She'd also clearly not put together the fact that they were now essentially alone, and no one on the planet Crakull would have any idea where they were. If he had wanted to harm her, he'd have already done so, but she was still new to everything.

"And it's not unwarranted. I apologize for the blind intrusion and assure you it won't happen again."

Whether she forgave him or not would depend on whether she understood the concept of forgiveness. He hadn't specifically dictated everything they fed to her while she was growing, so he wasn't entirely sure what she did and didn't know. A blessing and a curse in the same moment.

"I brought you here so you could learn some things. Both about yourself and about the world around you. I needed you to be outside of the stimulus of the facility, but I wanted you to be safe within it. If there is one place I know of where you can always be safe it is here. Nothing here can harm you unless I will it to, and that's something I simply won't do."

No harm would ever befall her in such a place. Not unless she turned on him with the intent of killing him. If that was the case he would be forced to defend himself in order to preserve the possibility of what he needed to do. All of this would make more sense to her when she understood the depth of emotions that waged war throughout him in regards to her. For now, she was still on the outside of that, having only seen bits and pieces without the knowledge to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of love. He genuinely cared about her, and her well-being, and everything he'd done since waking her from the cloning chamber had been to help her. Every single thing.

It would be easier for her if she sat, but she was angry and she wouldn't do so.

"The world is about to shift, just so you know."

And like that, the darkness gave way to the coldness of Mirial. In his extensive travels of the world he'd explored at least one nexus, and many locations where bits and pieces of emotion had fallen through, leaving behind memories of what was prior to the desolation of the world at the hands of the Primeval. This was his world, the place where he was born. The people here were similar to him, with the facial tattoos and some with similar eye color. It would be easy for her to recognize that. A sound would resonate around them, the sound of exploding metal, and like that all those who moved about them would stop and look up. He shifted it until they were looking at a young woman, holding a child in her arms. This was her last memory.

Written on her face was fear, but also heartache, as she knew what was coming. The colossal bolt of turbolaser energy was only seconds from striking her and her child down where she stood.

"What do you see? Look beyond the obvious physical details, and go deeper."

​

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

As the scene around them shifted, her knees bent again, hands moving out to the side slightly. Though she hadn't physically moved, it was almost as disorienting.

She stood up slowly, the cold wind cutting through her like a knife as her eyes cast around the scene he'd set.

No. He hadn't set it. He'd simply opened it.

"They're all going to die," she said with a certain cold bluntness. She was still furious.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She couldn't take it back. She was still angry, so no apology was forthcoming, at that moment at least. She had registered, almost subconsciously the similarity in appearance between him and these people. And in seeing it, she had lashed out.

Kith frowned, turning away from him and truly focusing on the moment frozen around them. No matter where she looked, however, her attention was drawn back time and time again to the expression on the woman's face.

"She knows," she said quietly, some of the venom from a moment ago vanished. "She could have dropped the child. Half a street ago. And maybe gotten away. Run faster."

She didn't sound puzzled by it. She wasn't, after all, a monster.

[member="Ignus"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

The comment about them all dying was quickly forgotten. Her words, though spoken in bitterness towards him, weren't exactly wrong. Nearly the entire populace of his homeworld had been wiped out by the monsters of the Primeval. She was no inaccurate in pointing it out.

"Yes, she could have, but still it would have died. Save then it would have died alone, crying, feeling entirely unwanted. In her arms it died feeling loved, oblivious."

He wasn't quite sure if she'd picked up on the emotions here as of yet. It was still hard to tell with her. She was oh so impassive.

"She was afraid of death, but she still cared for the child enough to try and get them both to the safety, even though her efforts were in vain. Most of the people of my homeworld died in similar fashion. Needlessly. That child could do no harm to those behind the guns, and yet they still killed it."

Again the scene shifted, but not drastically. Still on Mirial, the world seemed more peaceful. It would likely present as before the previous events. Here were three children and two older Mirialans, both bearing facial resemblance to him. One of the three children was actually him. The other two were his brothers. A man wearing long Jedi robes approached, and words were shared. Leos didn't remember them so he couldn't repeat them for her, but ultimately the youngest child was handed to the Jedi and he walked away, leaving them alone. Both Leos and Athelus, his brother, looked confused and hurt at their brother leaving. Leos was, perhaps, also a little angry.

How could he explain this to her? Seeing himself in this view was awkward, but he had old holos and such from back then, and Athelus always reminded him of how the Jedi stole their brother when he saw him. It wasn't something he was unused to.

"The Jedi took my brother from us. My parents gave him to them because they said he was important. I haven't seen him since this day." He sighed. "What do you see?"

His parents seemed impassive, almost resigned to the task at hand. He and his brother less so. Athelus was upset, but not angry. Leos was both, hands balled into fists.

He was showing her these things for a single purpose: to get her to open up what she had inside of herself, to truly understand the emotions within her, so that she could register, and understand, what happened around her, including why he was doing the things he did. He didn't want her to be the cold-hearted woman her predecessor had been. He wanted her to feel, to care, because if she cared, then she could truly make a difference instead of resigning herself to the same fate as before.

| [member="Kith Verloren"] |​

 

[Darth Caecus]

She shot him a look. The barest of glances out of the corner of her eye as he spoke, expanding on the why of that woman and her choice. She didn't say anything, and looked away a moment later. But for a heartbeat, there was a silent I know hanging between them. Kith was a creature of few words. She never spoke three where two would do. And rarely two if one would suffice.

And silence? Well. Silence spoke the most.

Except.

"Not it," she said softly, almost too low to hear. The child was not an it.

The scene shift was less jarring this time. She felt everything turn, but it wasn't unbalancing. She watched in silence as the events unfolded.

"Anger. Sorrow." Love. "The mother in the first image was willing to die, rather than give up her child. Your parents gave your brother up without requiring that choice. Your parents thought they were doing what was best," she said quietly. There was a pause and then, "It's amazing how often parents are wrong."

She didn't know where that last part had come from. And then the scene shifted again.

"Your choices are simple. Leave my daughter and walk away alive. Or die and I take her."

"Our daughter, Taka. Ours."

The edges of the room were fuzzy- it was hard to tell just how large it was. But the stones beneath them were cold, and the air was musty. Everything was grey. The two adults in the room seemed impossibly tall, but then, it was a child's memory. A woman with pale blonde hair stood before a tall, grey haired man.

Kith stepped back, blinking, confusion writ clearly over her face.

From behind a tall chair, a small, pale face peered out at the two figures. [member="Ignus"] would recognize the child right away. After all, he'd watched her grow up once already.

"You served your purpose," he hissed. "Kitaeru is mine. Leave with your life or die. You of all people should know that I care not. at. all. which you chose."

The voices faded from there, the words meaningless. At least until the blonde haired woman finally bowed her head.... and turned away.

"What....."

She turned to him, eyes searching his face, her own stricken. But she already knew. It wasn't either of their memories. Not in truth. It didn't belong to her any more than the name Kith Verloren did. It only did at all because someone else had given it to her.

A parent who died for her child. Others who gave theirs up because they thought it was right. And the last, who when given the choice, chose life.

Each narrative connected, flowing into the next.

"That was me..... her. Wasn't it?"