Private Blood isn't Simple

[Makko Vyres]

Makko didn't know what the sith called this place. To the Jedi Shadows it was target K-2174. It had been marked for observations months ago. Observations had led to a report on hmits purpose: a remote training site for Sith.

That report had led to a new decision. They would take surreptitious action. Young sith in training were not that interesting on their own, but on the site would be a sith communication device. Makko was here to steal the code key from it.

It was their best chance to break into sith communications in a year. He had to go undetected. If they new the key had been cloned they would simple cycle all of them.

The first half of the mission had already gone well.

---

Makko had to wait patiently. In the comms room of the facility he sat as the device he had brought slowly copied the key. Two of five lights had gone green.

He was wearing a black suit of armor. It shielded his signatures from detection: life sign and thermal.

The acolytes seemed to be asleep. A third light went green. Just a few more minutes and he would make his escape.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

The dormitory here was much different than back on Korriban; several rows of beds were lined up perfectly. Only the hum of the outpost's support systems filled the air. Though he was stationed temporarily on this desolate planet, it brought him a strange sense of emotional clarity. Lysander lay beneath the sheet of his bed, a dim glow from his datapad painting shadows across his youthful features. A single earbud rested in the acolyte's ear.

The holodrama continued playing, cutting through the silence with Lords and Ladies, juicy secrets, and many webs of intrigue

Peeking from beneath the sheet, the teen’s gaze wandered across the room. Another acolyte sat in lotus position, eyes closed, face calm, clearly unaffected by the surroundings.

Shifting once more, he propped his head on one hand. The scene before him now held him captive, breath caught in his throat. After all the slow burning tension built over what felt like an eternity, Episode 42 of Court of Shadows was shaping up to be a total masterpiece. Compared to the other series he studied in recent years, there was plenty of evidence to support this thought.

And not only was he savoring the moment, the boy from Ukatis was also jotting down mental notes to reflect on later.

His focus flickered to the time; only a few minutes remained. The mortal girl's confession was raw: “I love you.” The lead, masked, carrying both duty and legacy, replied with bitterness, “I swore an oath to the Court. I cannot love.” Then, she begged for him to break that vow; instead, the crowned heir turned his back, vanishing into the shadows.

Lysander scoffed before muttering under his breath. “You fething idiot. You had it in the bag. What are you doing, bro?”

Disbelief was etched into the blonde's expression as the end credits faded in. With a sigh, he rolled over and swung his legs off the bed. He desperately needed to clear his mind now. Stepping into the hallway, everything was still, just as anticipated. Without any purpose, unconcerned with consequences, he began drifting through the shadows, making his way towards the comms room.

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Lysander von Ascania

The final light went green. Makko quickly detached the device and set the device back into position. He could have worked more quickly, but the station's communications would have been interrupted.

He gave the room one final glance. Makko had implants from his days as a holonet runner on Denon. They had been upgraded over time. They had always had the ability to take and review recordings of what he could see. Everything in the room was left how it had been.

Makko stretched out with the Force and ensured the camera's would operate again as the door hissed shut.

He was sensitive to thoughts and feelings as well as machines. It was affecting the physical world that Makko struggled with.

He glanced up and down the corridor. Only one direction led out od the facility. He gambled on speed, treading lightly but trying to get out of the area.

The acolyte stepped out ahead of him. Makko skidded to a halt. He silently swore.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

Lysander sighed once more, exhaling some of the frustration. His gaze dropped to the durasteel floor beneath his bare feet.

There, in the silence of the night, he now questioned the absurdity of his own emotions; how foolish it was to allow some holodrama to pierce him so deeply, when others had been meditating, strengthening their minds. But here he was, torn apart by a fictional heartbeat, surely a far cry from the true horrors in the galaxy. Something settled in the teen's chest like ash, not because he truly cared about those characters, but because he recently started fearing that caring in general might make him weak, at least in the eyes of the Sith, exposing softness that may have lingered beneath his exterior.

“I might be smarter than the other acolytes,” he murmured, shrugging his shoulder, “but maybe I’m still just as pathetic.”

Rare as it was, self doubt pressed on him; the grip of Sith teachings could be suffocating, especially in the methods used for detachment. Still, it wasn’t enough for his mind to flicker back to that one scene though; in truth, it was a confession he wanted but never had. A random, sharp, pang, tightened in his chest. If the galaxy ever handed him that same revelation, he knew, without a doubt, he would wield it differently.

From the corridor, there was a low hum. The vibration stirred the boy, and his senses sharpened. But before he could react, he collided with a figure that was stepping around the corner. It caused him to step backward. Lysander then looked up, eyes narrowing as he studied the stranger's presence. This was no acolyte; none of them had protective gear like this.

When his voice first cut through the silence, it was heavy with suspicion. “You’re not one of us.” Then, a note of admiration crept in, as his eyes lit up. “Hey. Nice armor though.”

From the recesses of his consciousness, another scene surfaced. another holodrama. This one was less dramatic, perhaps, but at least it didn’t end with a masked idiot running away.

“Oh. I know how this ends,” Lysander muttered, mostly to himself.

His hand instinctively reached to where the lightsaber hilt should have been. All he found was air.

"You somehow get away. And I get the consequences."

Back on Korriban, it wasn’t much of a secret that he’d racked up more detentions than all his acolyte friends combined. But out here, something told him the punishment would be worse.

“I’ve also totally seen how things go when people run. You should surrender while you still can.”

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

"Well...fuck."

His voice was distorted, but it didn't hide the note of frustration. Makko took a whole step backwards. He wasn't preparing to retreat, but wanted a little space between them in case Lysander moved suddenly. Makko needed enough space to think so that he didn't do something that would cause him serious harm.

He stretched out with his senses. They were alone for the moment.

"Well what am I supposed to do now?" he muttered.

He reached up to remove the mask of his nightshrike armor. His identity would explain his own rambling instead of action.

"If you were anyone else I could kill or subdue you quietly and carry you out of here. Slave another ship and they might think you just ran away. If I take you back Cora will let you go and then they'll look into what I was doing here."

Makko placed his hands on his hips.

"And thank you. The armor is very expensive. I don't suppose you might just let me leave without telling anyone?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

A rush of adrenaline manifested, a thrill secretly craved. But he kept a veil over it, trying not to let it betray him. What was even more unsettling were the man’s words, for the shock and disbelief mirrored everything inside him now.

Barefoot, Lysander felt the chill of the durasteel, but at least it was silent. His eyes widened, heart skipping, from recognition. This was Makko. Based on his scholarly knowledge of holodramas, Makko and Cora were something of an enemies-to-lovers tale. But Lysander’s mind had always rejected this idea; to him, Cora was angelic, pure, basically the embodiment of Ashla. How else would she have become an esteemed Jedi Council member?

That was, until she killed their father. Their confrontation would involve more than just words, but lightsabers too.

The acolyte’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, and a hint of humor shaped his tone. “Thanks for the wedding invite, man.” The secret ceremony wasn’t lost on him anymore after receiving a letter, and somehow, that only deepened the sting. He’d always imagined many friends from the Core Worlds celebrating the event with her.

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not wrong,” he said softly. “If I shout, someone dies. If I go for help, someone dies. Probably me. So yeah.. maybe I should just let you go.”

Unfortunately, the Jedi’s own mastery and experience far outweighed his own. But that didn’t make Lysander flinch; instead, a defiant smirk clung to his lips. “Not yet though. I’m gon’ need one truth before I do. Just one.” His voice lowered. “When you married Coco.. did you mean it when you said you loved her?”

As he focused inward, a faint crackle stirred, the smallest spark of electricity coiling at the tip of his lifted index finger. It was an experiment; in truth, he was mostly surprised to have summoned it without tapping into hatred or a surge of anger. He’d risked far more ignorant bets, and planned on selling this one too. “I’ll know if you’re lying, Makko. Trust me.. I've had a lot of practice."

​

​

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

. “Thanks for the wedding invite, man.”

"It was just the two of us," Makko said. "And - to be fair - there are seven of you so we would have had to pick favourites."

He and Cora had both been shaped by their families. One of the few things they had in common from their childhood was that they had been shaped by the failings of their parents.

Unlike Cora he had no family to invite to a wedding.

Makko didn't glance down at the flicker of light between Lysander's fingers. He didn't want to acknowledge it, even as he felt the dissapointment that her brother had fallen so far into the darkness that he could conjure lightning.

He hadn't been a disciplined man. His youth had been on the back streets of Denon, working for bad people and making mistakes. He has felt the temptation, the draw of giving in to his base feelings. It would be so easy to surrender and to fall. It was always easier to fall than the stand against the inexorable pull of gravity.

His voice lowered. “When you married Coco.. did you mean it when you said you loved her?”

Makko had taken a risk to not answer the question first. He took a deep breath and met Lysander's gaze.

Makko didn't like being threatened, but the question had been asked in earnest.

"I meant in then. I meant it the first time I said it. I will mean it every time I say it."

Makko stepped to the side. He broke the imaginary line between them. The one between two potential duallists. He leant his shoulder into the wall. No one was coming. They had some time.

"If you're asking that, there are probably other things you want to ask. She doesn't need anyone to fight for her, but she'll always need people that care to look out for her."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

Lysander's body tensed, bracing for what he had come to expect in the Outer Rim, whether it was another lie or some kind of mockery. While it was not enough to claw at his confidence, it made the voice that followed with truth land with clarity. The honesty behind it felt pure, and so the faint spark at his fingertip dimmed.

The teen wanted to say he knew he would have been a favorite, or so he had long believed himself to be in regard to Cora. But after a year in the Out Rim, with only one letter received, written by guilt in the aftermath of Ukatis rather than from her heart, he was not sure anymore.

He shifted, voice low. "Look out for her.. like guardians. Sure." The words were heavily laced with disappointment. “Guess her letter forgot to mention the part where she ghosted her entire bloodline.” The ache was present, clinging tightly to his chest. And rather than mentioning his own failed attempts at keeping the line between them, Lysander just shrugged his shoulders in frustration. He then shot a sideways glance down the hallway.

After a few beats of silence, the acolyte's gaze, green and sharp, returned to rest on his brother-in-law. His brows drew together; they creased from pain. "I asked because I don’t know how to stop missing my sister. Even after everything.” A slow exhale through the nose followed while shaking his head. “But it’s too late now.”

Both hands slid instinctively into his pockets, struggling with how to put an end to whatever story he was narrating. But it was then, something familiar brushed against his finger, a thin paper wrapped tightly around a bundle of herbs. Even without bringing it before him, he savored the skunky, earthy aroma now filling the air.

A soft sigh escaped the boy's parted lips. “I’m not going back,” he admitted softly. His glance finally lowered to the joint, then upward again, arm lifting toward Makko. “Do you have a lighter by chance? We can go outside. I’ll figure out the rest later.. it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t face disciplinary action at least once while out here. Might make for an easier conversation, too.”

​

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

"She's been through a lot," he said bluntly.

In the situation, Makko didn't want to start an argument. Cora was doing what she could to stabilise Ukatis. He was proud of her. Every time she got back to her feet another catastrophe fell.

And then get got back to her feet again.

"Reminds me I should reach out to Dominick again," he muttered. Their brother had known about Makko and Cora's relationship before their father.

"I don't keep a lighter on me, but I can make a light," Makko said. His dual phase lightsaber could activate a blade that gave off almost no light. It wouldn't be the worst thing he had used it for.

"Come on..." Makko said softly. He made the first show of trust. Walking right past Lysander and towards the outdoors.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

Lysander's posture shifted, acknowledging the quiet treaty settling between them. The way Makko honored his sister's strength, choosing understanding over argument.. threw him into complete silence. His gaze flickered away now and then, not just listening to the man's words, but to his tone, too.

His body stiffened at the mention of Dominick; nostalgia and guilt clashed in his chest. While he hadn't seen Cora in over a year, his brother's absence stretched much further, all the way back to the day he left Ukatis to begin his journey as a Padawan.

The joint was cradled between his fingers reverently, as Makko passed by, but chose not to follow immediately, instead trailing behind several paces. Though his steps upon the durasteel floor were silent, the thoughts inside his mind became a cacophony of regret and doubt.

As he stepped onto the threshold where the open sky stretched before him, he lifted his eyes to the heavens, drawing in the cool air and extending the rolled item towards the Jedi. “I used to think all the von Ascania’s came from the same fabric. But I think I got cut off from the end of the thread.. never really matched their pattern.”

He shifted his weight to one leg. “Maybe I didn’t try hard enough to keep in touch. Guess that makes me the ghost now, huh?" A half smile appeared; weariness was etched into the teen's features like a curse. "I wasn't really built for big circles. Never was the people pleaser type. Never wanted to be. Just picked a few people and hoped they'd stick around. But everyone's fighting some war now. Galactic Alliance, the Sith Order, or some just personal. And I'm here.. passing something to a Jedi infiltrator in the middle of nowhere on a planet most have never even heard of."

There was no bitterness in his words. "You didn't run when I spotted you. You didn't lie. I suppose you've earned one conversation."

A gentle sigh released while the acolyte was staring at a fixed point in the stars. "So, if there's something you want to say to me before you disappear again, please say it here.. not in comms, or holotexts. I've grown so tired of holoscreens and checking my inbox for messages."

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Deciding that drawing his lightsaber to light a smoke would probably panic the acolyte, he instead drew a micro torch from a pouch. It ignited into a small blue flame that could be used to cut locks.

"I'm technically youe brother-in-law," Makko said firmly, risking annoying Lysander with the reminder. "I think we can manage the odd conversation. Otherwise we're just making another Ukatis - style family feud."

He took a step back as Lysander was left with his lit smoke. He took a deep breath of fresh air.

"I think not being cut from the cloth of any Ukatis family is something to be applauded," he said. "Most of them seem terrible."

"I didn't come here with a message for you Lysander. Didn't know you were here. But...look after yourself, alright? I can hardly talk, but if you're fed up of the wars you can always just step away."

There were times that he regretted not being more selfish. He had considered trying to convince Cora to flee with him before her arranged marriage. Sometimes he looked back at it as hopelessly naive. There were other times where just walking away for their own sake seemed one of the most rational thoughts he had ever had.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

The tightly rolled item touched Lysander's lips, and he drew in slowly, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs. It immediately transported him. The taste was unmistakable, a reminder of Korriban's sands, along with the companionship of his professor Madrona A’Mia and the Badawan crew.

Turning his head, a soft exhale drifted from the acolyte's mouth, tendrils of smoke curled and faded, just like so many of the old memories from the Core Worlds and Mid-Rim, and into the cool night air.

Though the night had become quite random, almost out of place in the scheme of life itself, he now found a sense of calm, at last. Makko's words settled with heavy weight, but not enough to crush him. The comment about Ukatis, one sharp and perhaps too honest, pricked at something within. Despite his home's flaws, and the disdain that many seemed to carry for it, there was a certain simplicity that he'd grown to love.

Leaving everything behind again sounded easy, too easy. More than a year of intense effort had been invested into the current path, a year of more purpose and drive than so many previous chapters combined.

He even tried to conjure a life amidst the planets he once called home, but that vision fractured quickly, and his brow drew tight.

Another ache settled in his chest; not because of the distance this time, but because he'd already left so much behind. First, his thoughts wandered to Revna Marr , his cousin who'd been in his corner since the descent into darkness. And then there was Darth Malum of House Marr , who arrived like a guardian on Ukatis when the Sith made a strong presence; since then, he'd spent a great deal of time among the Tsis'Kaar.

He breathed in another long hit, the ember's glow flickering, then flicking the ash. There was a slow shake of his head as while offering the joint to Makko. Rather than a gesture suggesting departure, it was one of shared connection. Lysander's voice was low. "It's not easy to step away," he confessed, gaze faltering for a moment, "But I am a Marr now."

​

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

Makko let that one sink in. A Marr.

He knew that would hurt Cora. He could have told her that, but it would have felt like lashing out. Makko had grown in the last few years. He was an Empath, but feeling other emotions hadn't made him mature enough to deal with them.

He took the joint and set it upon his own lips. He glanced at the sky and blew out a thin wisp of smoke. His gaze slowly settled back on Lysander.

"She's still your sister," he said firmly, "And she still loves you."

Makko turned the rolled up joint around and offered it back.

"I care as well," he added. This time his voice was softer. He smile and glanced at his timer. "Still my brother in law too."

He patted down his armour and found a small notebook. When carrying out recon there were times when it was better to avoid giving off any signals when taking notes about guard patterns.

Makko wrote a small holonet address.

"That's an empty holonet box. Drop a message there and I'll pick it up. If there's ever need. I am..."

He gave a gentle wave to indicate their surroundings.

"...quite good at getting places I'm not supposed to be."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Makko Vyres

​

Even through the haze now, he tried to maintain a steady posture; shoulders were squared, chin lifted just enough in hope that he could mask the vulnerability. But none of that control could silence the ache just beneath the exterior, a heat behind his eyelids.

Whether it was true or not, he recoiled, jaw clenching, before flicking his gaze to the sky, hoping he might find a softer answer. "I appreciate your words," he said calmly, coaxing a faint and rare smile to his lips; brief and easy to miss, it was a reflection of something that had long been lost. “Still feels like broken pieces.. even with those words. If she loved me, then she wouldn't make me feel so far away.”

Lysander’s hand shot out before his mind could catch up, fingers closing around the joint and lifting it to draw a long breath, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs greedily. Tendrils curled around him like a veil, masking his pain as he continued to hit it. "I wish I could believe that, really, but there's just this gnawing doubt that I can't seem to shake," he added, smoking escaping his lips like a confession.

Taking the paper handed to him, it was held delicately between two fingers, inspecting the holonet address before sliding it into the pocket of his leggings.

The acolyte rubbed his temple, then passed the joint to Makko. "There’s so much tangled up in all of this.. I don't know where to even begin." His thoughts briefly brushed against another figure, one who had been woven into his heart before so many things were ripped away: Sibylla Abrantes . “I’ve lost so much already. How do you start fixing what’s broken.. when literally everything feels like it's slipping away?"

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

“I’ve lost so much already. How do you start fixing what’s broken.. when literally everything feels like it's slipping away?"

"I don't know," Makko said honestly. He waved away the offer. He was, after all, going to have to pilot a ship in a few minutes. Within a few hours a sith vessel would pass through the sector. He didn't want to crash his ship and he didn't want to hang around until he could be shot out of the sky.

"I look back at the worst times I've had and I could come up with some advice."

Makko shrugged.

"Problem is did I really make things better? Did I just cling on and times just changed. I dunno. Pick a thing you can control and do that. Sounds like a feckin holonet poster."

"You've got to have a reason for being out here. Friends, mentors?"

He selfishly hoped there was at least something positive to take back to Cora. He knew just how selfish that thought was, Lysander had his struggles to deal with and Makko didn't have any particularly strong advice.