Private Common Ground

[Kallous]

Kallous nodded when he heard that it had already been taken care of. He should have realized that these people were on top of their game, and that they would handle that on their own without his input. He supposed some weeks handling inexperienced, albeit willing, civilians in minor missions for scouting and logistics he had gotten into the habit of micro-management. Something these Mandalorians didn't need.

Kallous hadn't expected the physical contact, the gesture taking him by surprise. Nevertheless he didn't pull away, her sincerity plain to see when she thanked him. He shook his head, "they put themselves in danger to save people. I'd be heartless not to care."

Then the response came, and his prediction had been wrong. They hadn't had that long after all.

"Let's put that fighter of yours to use. A few strafing runs should delay them long enough to count." He suggested. "And pull your northern units back here to hold out. I'll hold the north shelf myself."

He stood from his position and departed for the north. Such a small space would be something he could hold on his own, assuming they even tried to attack it at all. If they did they would come prepared, he was sure. But he was no novice, he had been a commander and a warrior his entire life. Some paltry soldiers wouldn't be able to overwhelm him. And all he would need to do was to last long enough, that was it. And if worst came to worst, he had the highest chance of escape out of everyone else there.

This was it, there would be no more respites after this. It was all in, full tilt, do or die.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla watched him rise and immediately understood what he intended to do. There was no hesitation in his stride as he prepared to head for the northern shelf alone. The approaching military force had changed the equation for everyone on the ridge, yet Kallous seemed to accept it with the same calm certainty he had shown since the beginning of the operation.

For a moment, she said nothing. Her gaze followed him as he gathered himself to depart, the sounds of comm traffic and distant engines filling the space between them. There were a dozen arguments she could have made. A dozen reasons why one warrior alone shouldn't stand against whatever was coming. Yet she knew enough about him by now to understand they would accomplish little.

"Don't die, vod."

The word carried weight. More than a simple title. More than convenience. Among Mandalorians, there were few things more meaningful than being acknowledged as one of their own, and she offered it without reservation.

Her emerald eyes held his for a moment longer before she continued.

"I'll see you on the other side."

The statement was delivered with quiet certainty, as though she had already decided that both of them would survive this day regardless of what the enemy intended.

Then her expression hardened slightly, becoming more practical.

"And if you're going to fail, retreat with my men." She folded her arms across her chest. "That's not a suggestion born from doubt. It's an order born from experience. Holding the line is one thing. Throwing your life away after the objective is complete is another."

The distant growl of incoming engines rolled across the canyon. Veyla glanced toward the horizon, where the next phase of the battle was rapidly approaching, before returning her attention to him one final time.

"The refugees are the mission. Not our pride." A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. "Make me regret offering you a seat on my ship later, not today."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Ordinarily, Kallous would have agreed with her assessments that one warrior should never stand alone against groups of professional soldiers. But for as many reasons as she had that one shouldn't go alone, he had a reason for why he was exempt from that rule. He could hold his own, and he wouldn't be pushed back. And for the first time since the fight had begun, Kallous felt his heart beginning to pump excitedly. The trill of the fight was coming, and now he could let loose. These were no longer civilian enforcers pressed into service, and fighting an enemy they weren't ready for. These were soldiers, men and women of war, ready to kill and be killed.

The gloves were off, and Kallous could let loose.

The parting words from Veyla earned a chuckle from the former sith, who gave her a salute and a good-humored "yes ma'am." before he disappeared into the mountain. He made it to the north shelf right as the first transports arrived. Two gunships hovered nearby, training their weapons on the landing zone. They didn't even wait to see if anything was there. They lit up the tunnels with their cannons, the rapid-fire of the heavy bolts tearing through the abandoned fortifications that had housed Mandalorian defenders a few short minutes ago. Kallous was made glad that he had sent them back to the main line. Though that was doubtlessly coming under even heavier fire.

Once the shelf had been thoroughly pummeled by the gunships' weapons, they sent in their landing troops. They weren't special forces by any stretch of the imagination, but the smooth, practiced and professional way they advanced told him that they were trained to kill, not subdue. And that they had been trained properly. These were former diarchy troops that had joined with a faction in the hopes of maintaining as much stability among their home as was possible.

Kallous felt pity for them, but that didn't stay his blade from their flesh.

There was the hum of plasma, and the screams of dying men. That was all they would hear from the North. Veyla would know Kallous was doing his work, all that was left was for her and her men to do theirs.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla watched Kallous disappear into the mountain passages and resisted the urge to follow him with her eyes for too long. There was a battle in front of her, a line to hold, and hundreds of lives still depending upon the time they were buying. Whatever happened on the northern shelf was now in his hands.

The comm traffic crackled steadily around her as reports flowed in from scattered positions. Ammunition counts. Evacuation numbers. Enemy movements. The familiar rhythm of battlefield coordination settled over her like a second skin. She listened, processed, and responded where necessary, trusting the warriors around her to do what they had been trained to do. They didn't need constant oversight. They needed direction, confidence, and the knowledge that someone was paying attention to the larger picture.

Then the sounds from the north arrived. Not reports. Not requests for support. Screams.

The distinctive hum of a lightsaber carried faintly across the comm frequencies, followed by bursts of panicked shouting and fragmented calls for assistance. Veyla closed her eyes for half a second and exhaled through her nose.

"Well," she muttered quietly, "he seems busy."

There was no humor in the words, only a faint note of appreciation. Kallous had asked for responsibility, and now he was carrying it. Every transmission coming from the northern shelf suggested the same thing: the enemy advance had stopped cold. Whatever force they had committed there was being forced to deal with a problem they clearly hadn't anticipated.

Her attention shifted back toward the main valley where new enemy formations were beginning to maneuver. They had lost the initiative. That much was obvious. The troops arriving now were disciplined enough to recognize when an assault had gone wrong and were adapting accordingly. That made them more dangerous than the police units had ever been.

"Maintain spacing. Keep your fields of fire clear," she ordered over the command net. "No heroics. We only need time."

Acknowledgments came back immediately.

Behind them, another transport lifted off from the evacuation zone and climbed toward the clouds above. Veyla watched it disappear into the sky before checking the latest numbers. Not many were left now. One more wave. Maybe two.

Her gaze drifted northward one final time before she exhaled slowly, steadying herself against the distant echoes of chaos, then she turned back toward the enemy with renewed focus, pushing aside any lingering thoughts as she centered herself on the task at hand, because there was still work to do.

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

The north kept going steady. Things stayed the same, Kallous using the force to keep his speed to high for the soldiers to keep up with. It would be exhausting in the long term, but this wasn't a long-term engagement. All he needed to do was maintain this for a little while longer, and they would be able to safely exfiltrate. It would not be much longer now.

The reports from the north indicated a stable front for the time being. Meaning all that Veyla would need to worry herself with was the foe in front of her. Blaster bolts that blazed through the air with lethal intent. Neither side holding anything back. The Mandalorians holding their ground against a wave of professional soldiers, this had become a true battleground now. One that meant a lot more than its scale would indicate.

Transports took off, transports landed, the civilians were ushered into the cabins and once they were full, they took off again. It was well-conducted and safe. The transports themselves had not yet come under threat, and the fighter that the Mandalorians had brought with them that remained behind remained ready to fight off any attempt at assaulting them.

The North Shelf was rocked by the impact of heavy guns. The gunships had begun to open fire with their cannons in an effort to remove the problematic fighter that had been slaughtering their compatriots for the past few minutes. And in the distance light self-propelled artillery guns were being deployed from dropships. Before long the Mandalorian position would face shelling. A serious problem that, if not addressed, could mean their end.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The reports came fast now, each one stacking over the last until the battlefield existed in Veyla's mind as much as it did before her eyes. North shelf holding. Kallous still active. Enemy advance slowed. Main line under sustained fire. Transports continuing rotation. Final civilians loading.

Then came the artillery report.

Her gaze snapped toward the dropships deploying the light guns in the distance, and the quiet certainty in her posture hardened into immediate action.

"All anti-armor teams, artillery takes priority," she ordered over the command net. "Do not let those guns set. Fang One, you are cleared hot. Keep them off the evacuation corridor."

The fighter that had waited in reserve finally screamed into the fight, engines splitting the sky as it dropped toward the incoming guns. Mandalorian missile teams shifted positions along the ridge, launching in staggered bursts to force the enemy vehicles into evasive maneuvers before they could establish firing solutions. Blasterfire, rockets, and cannon bursts cut through the air as Veyla's people brought everything they had to bear, not to win the field, but to protect the final transports as they lifted away behind them.

The enemy answered with everything they had left. Gunships raked the ridgeline. Soldiers pushed forward beneath covering fire. The southeast shelf tried once more to send shield teams toward the main line, only to be met by concentrated fire and explosives that broke their formation before it could gain momentum. Veyla moved along the ridge as the line flexed, rifle snapping from target to target, her voice steady over the comms while she shifted squads, called targets, and kept her people from overcommitting.

Then the final transport lifted.

For a moment, Veyla watched it climb through the smoke and rain, engines burning bright as it joined the others already disappearing toward safer space. The confirmation followed seconds later across her HUD. Civilian evacuation complete. All willing refugees extracted.

Only then did she allow herself to breathe.

"Objective complete," she transmitted. "All units, begin withdrawal by sections. Cover each other. No one gets left behind."

Her gaze turned toward the northern shelf where flashes still lit the mountain passages.

"Kallous," she called over the comm, voice calm but firm. "Time to go, vod."

A brief pause followed as she adjusted her tracking display and marked his position for pickup.

"I'll pick you up."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

At long last they brought in their air support, and it changed the battle right there at the end of it. The military had brought in support to be sure. But the most they'd brought were light guns that could be deployed quickly and the transports and ground support craft. They did not have any fighters in the air, and they didn't have anything immediately deployable that could rightly deal with one. So for the next little bit, the Mandalorians not only had air support, they had air superiority. It wasn't a one-sided fight, but it was one that now heavily favored them. The fighter zipping to and fro, strafing the artillery, bringing down incoming craft, and overall presenting a problem to the offenders that they couldn't rightly deal with in a timely manner.

And this was the key to the rest of their defensive. The fighter that they'd brought in had been a trump card that would effectively carry them through to the end. And soon enough the final transport was clear. Veyla gave the order to withdraw, and voxed to Kallous that they would pick him up.

"Understood." He replied, his breathing heavy with activity. He had survived the barrage of cannon fire meant to kill him, and had managed to knock one of the gunships from the sky by leaping onto the pilot's canopy, and wrenchin control of the vehicle away from him with the force, which sent the whole thing plummeting to the earth. "I'll wait here then."

Kallous quickly dispatched the other ship, grabbing the pilot and pulling him violently forward into the controls of the cockpit. Throwing that ship off into the chasm with its counterpart.

Now all there was to do was wait. The gunships on his side had been cleared out, the advance had been delayed again by the sudden appearance of the fighter, and the artillery was now too late to make any difference. The day had been won. It had cost injuries and lives to accomplish, but it had been a resounding success thanks to those sacrifices. And Kallous could breathe easy now, knowing that those people that trusted him had not done so in vain.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The final transport disappeared into the clouds above, its engines fading into the distance as it joined the stream of refugee craft escaping the system. Veyla watched it climb for only a moment before checking the evacuation tally one last time. Every civilian who had agreed to leave was accounted for. The objective had been achieved. There was nothing left to defend.

Her hand rose to her helmet as she switched frequencies. "All units, this is Krinn. The evacuation is complete. Repeat, evacuation complete. Begin withdrawal procedures immediately. Fall back to extraction points and prepare for departure. Do not linger to engage. We've accomplished the mission." A chorus of acknowledgments followed. Some voices sounded relieved, others exhausted, but every one of them understood. Their purpose here had never been to win a battle. It had been to save lives.

Fresh reports arrived from the northern shelf. Enemy forces were still advancing, slower now but not yet willing to abandon the fight. Then Kallous' voice came through her comms. He was still standing. Still fighting. Veyla released a slow breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Copy that, vod. Hold position. We're coming to get you."

She turned immediately toward the waiting transport. "Pilot, north shelf. Maximum speed." The engines roared to life as warriors piled aboard behind her. Within moments, they were airborne, banking hard toward the mountain passages. When the northern shelf finally came into view, the scale of the fighting was impossible to miss. Wreckage burned along the cliffsides, smoke climbed into the sky, and scattered enemy forces continued trying to push through terrain littered with the aftermath of Kallous' stand.

"Suppressive fire. Keep their heads down." Heavy blasters mounted beneath the transport immediately opened up, red plasma hammering the ridgelines and forcing advancing soldiers back into cover. The barrage wasn't aimed at Kallous. It was aimed around him, carving out a corridor through the battlefield and giving him room to withdraw without being overwhelmed by the enemy pressing forward.

The transport settled into a hover near the shelf, side doors opening before it had fully touched down. Veyla stepped to the edge of the ramp and fixed her gaze on the lone Force user. "You've done enough, vod." The title came naturally now, spoken not as a courtesy but as recognition earned through action. Behind her, the fighter screamed overhead once more while Mandalorian forces continued their withdrawal across the battlefield. The refugees were safe. The mission was complete. "Get aboard."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous continued to stand where he was while waiting for the incoming ship to pick him up. His mission was done, the people he'd given his protection were saved. He would need to personally thank the Mandalorians for coming to their aid, each one of them risking, and some sacrificing, life and limb to see these people to safety. A truly heroic effort from these men and women who had no stake in the fate of the people who had called for their help. It was a surefire way to earn Kallous' unfaltering respect, and he would be sure to repay their kindness in full.

Soon enough suppressive fire was laid down in front of him by mandalorian guns, forcing those who had been shooting at him to duck behind cover wherever it could be found while the mandalorian transport touched down behind him. There stood the commander who had lead this rescue effort, beckoning him to join her for their escape into Mandalorian space.

Kallous stepped onto the gangway and up into the vessel with Veyla, "Thank you, Mandalorian. Let's get your people home."

The hatch would shut behind them as the ship began to gain altitude. The fighter disengaging behind them as the pulled into low orbit, and continued onward before jumping to hyperspace. The Mandalorians and their partner in crime now beyond the reach of the enemy they'd been fighting, leaving them now with only a short trip before they reached friendly space.

"I suppose once we get to safety, I owe you and your men a round of drinks." Kallous offered, he wasn't altogether sure what Mandalorians did in their free time or how they celebrated. But it was almost universal across the galaxy that triumphant forces would celebrate with a round of alcohol. And given that he'd been the one to call them for aid, it only made sense that he be the one to pay for it.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The moment Kallous stepped aboard, Veyla reached up and disengaged the seals on her helmet. The buy'ce came free with a quiet hiss before she tucked it beneath one arm. For the first time since the fighting had begun, the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. Smoke, exhaustion, and the lingering adrenaline of battle still clung to everyone aboard, but they were alive. That counted for something.

A small smile appeared as she looked at him.

"That you do, vod."

The word came easily now. Not as a courtesy. Not because it was expected. Because she meant it.

As the transport climbed away from the battlefield and the hatch sealed behind them, Veyla settled against the bulkhead and studied him for a moment. "You know, being called Vod isn't something Mandalorians hand out lightly." Her voice was calm, carrying the quiet honesty that often emerged after a difficult fight. "It means brother. Sister. Family. Not necessarily by blood, but by trust. By shared burdens. By standing beside someone when it matters."

Her emerald eyes drifted briefly toward the viewport as stars stretched into brilliant lines and hyperspace swallowed them whole. The battle, the refugees, and the desperate stand on the cliffs all vanished behind them in an instant.

"You stood your ground for people who couldn't protect themselves. You fought beside Mandalorians without asking for anything in return. You cared about our wounded and our dead as much as your own charges." The smile returned, faint but genuine. "So yes. You've earned that one."

For a few moments, she simply listened to the steady hum of the ship around them. The Warriors were beginning to relax now that the danger had passed. Medics checked injuries. Exhausted soldiers sank into whatever seats they could find. It was the familiar aftermath of survival.

"Let's get home first," she said at last. "Then we'll take you up on those drinks. After that, after everyone's had a chance to rest and remember why today mattered, we'll make sure you get back to your own people."

The smile widened slightly as she leaned her head back against the bulkhead.

"But for tonight, vod, I think we've all earned a little peace."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

For the first time since he'd met the woman some hours ago, he finally got a look at her face and the red hair that framed it. He made sure to commit her face to memory, he would always remember the kindness she'd shown today.

Kallous nodded to her gratefully, taking the information in and acknowledging it. It was the kind of thing one would expect from a warrior culture like theirs. And it most certainly meant something. Kallous didn't have many parallels, but he understood it well enough. It was a sincere expression of trust, one that carried weight. One he wasn't sure he could rightly return.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me." He acknowledged. "I'm not sure whether it would be appropriate for me to return the favor, considering I am an outsider. But know that I deeply appreciate the effort and the sacrifice made by you and your men. Thank you, you saved those people and you did so selflessly. It was an act of heroism that I cannot commend enough."

He leaned back against the bulkhead opposite the mandalorian woman, "It just occurred to me. We've been so busy that we had to forgo formal introductions. I am Kallous, formerly the apprentice to the Diarch Rellik. Might I ask you your name Mandalorian?"

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

A faint smile touched Veyla's lips as she listened to him speak. The gratitude was genuine. She could hear it plainly enough, and after everything that had happened on the cliffs, she wasn't about to argue over who deserved more credit. The refugees were safe. That was what mattered.

"You don't have to return the favor," she said quietly. "Trust isn't a debt. It's a choice."

As she spoke, she hooked her helmet onto her belt, letting it hang there for the first time since boarding the transport. The gesture seemed small, but after hours spent sealed behind beskar and battle, it felt oddly liberating. Around them, the compartment had settled into the weary calm that always followed a successful operation. Warriors checked wounds. Medics moved between seats. Conversations had begun replacing combat reports.

His question drew a small nod.

"Veyla Krinn of Clan Kryze."

She extended her arm toward him, not for a casual shake but for the traditional warrior's clasp. Her hand closed firmly around his forearm between wrist and elbow, offering the grip without hesitation. It was steady, sincere, and carried the same meaning as the title she'd given him earlier.

"It's good to finally meet you properly, Kallous."

Releasing the clasp, she motioned toward one of the nearby warriors. A canteen was passed across the compartment and into her hand. Without ceremony, she offered it to him.

"Take this for now."

A faint trace of amusement returned to her expression.

"We'll have a real drink when we land."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous clasped Veyla's forearm when she offered to clasp his. It was one of the few gestures that was truly universal, that all species in the galaxy understood, that all cultures recognized. A display of trust and respect that could really only be understood by people who had faced death with one another. Even if only once, it was something that impossible to overstate.

"The pleasure's mine, Miss Krinn." Kallous said politely.

Kallous gratefully accepted the canteen and took a drink from it, and spent the rest of the ride back to wherever these mandalorians called home. He took the time to calm the force that was flowing through him. He guided himself to calmer spaces, allowing the tempestuous currents that had built up over the course of the battle to ease into an easy calm. Leaving behind the chaos of the past few hours, and taking a few seconds to center himself. Before he did one final thing, there was something he wanted to confirm.

He would reach out into the force, and he would find Veyla therein. And he would briefly touch her consciousness. Not enough to cause her distress, but enough to tickle the senses, and see if, perhaps, she reacted.

---

The ride eventually came to an end, the ship would touch down, the citizens had already been brought to a landing zone to be sorted out and taken care of. The injured were brought to hospitals, and the dead were seen to. As for the remaining mandalorians, Kallous let them choose the place they would go to celebrate. And once there he would dip into his old stores to pay for a round of beers for the whole unit, and invited Veyla to sit with him in a slightly more private area of the bar.

Telling her that they "Had some things to discuss".

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

The ride home passed in relative quiet. The adrenaline of battle was fading, leaving behind exhaustion and the lingering ache that always followed a hard-fought victory. Veyla sat opposite Kallous, one arm resting loosely across her knee as the transport cut through hyperspace. Somewhere during the journey, a strange sensation brushed against her awareness. Subtle. Fleeting. Like walking through a room and catching the feeling that someone had spoken her name. Her brow furrowed briefly, and she glanced up, her eyes settling on Kallous for a moment before drifting across the compartment to the other warriors aboard. The sensation vanished as quickly as it had come. Odd. Nothing more than that. Eventually, she shook her head and dismissed it.

When the transport finally touched down, the unit dispersed into the organized chaos that followed every operation. Refugees were processed. The wounded were transferred to medical care. The fallen were carried away with the solemn respect they had earned. Only after responsibilities had been seen to did anyone begin thinking about celebration. Like many Mandalorians, they preferred earning their drinks first.

The destination turned out to be a well-known establishment near the spaceport called The Broken Mythosaur. The place had earned its name from the massive, cracked Mythosaur skull mounted above the entrance and its reputation for serving strong drinks with minimal conversation. Warriors filtered inside in smaller groups rather than one large crowd. Veyla remained near Kallous as they entered, occasionally greeting familiar faces or exchanging brief words with members of the unit, but she made no effort to disappear into the crowd. He was a guest, one who had fought and bled alongside them, and leaving him to fend for himself would have felt wrong.

A drink eventually found its way into her hand, though she had barely taken a sip before feeling a light tap against her elbow. Setting the glass down, she turned to find Kallous. His gesture was subtle enough not to draw attention, but deliberate enough to communicate exactly what he intended. There was something he wanted to discuss. Veyla studied him for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Of course."

Without ceremony, she picked up her glass and led the way toward one of the quieter corners of the establishment. Years of caution guided the choice automatically. The table she selected offered a clear view of both the entrance and the secondary exit near the kitchens while leaving neither of them boxed into a corner. Settling into her seat, she rested one forearm against the table and glanced toward Kallous.

"You said we had things to discuss."

A faint smile appeared.

"Seems important enough to wait until after the shooting stopped."

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous took a second to appreciate the choice of decor. A Mythosaur skull was one way to advertise to clientel, that was sure. And seeing the kinds of liquors and spirits available to them, Kallous understood why this place was favored. He himself didn't drink much, and he had for himself a light ale instead of the heavier drinks that the soldiers seemed to be favoring. He appreciated the lighter drink, it was enough to enjoy, but not so much that he lost hismelf in it.

He would rather not repeat past mistakes...

After a brief break to simply enjoy the atmosphere, and to allow the mood to lighten, and for the others to become more enraptured with their own beverages and activities, allowing his upcoming conversation with Veyla to be that much more private. Subtle conversations could be had in plain view as long as the people around them were too preoccupied to care about what was being said.

He took a seat across from her, clasping his hands together and placing them on the table in front of him in a relaxed, but serious posture.

"A couple of things. Firstly an apology from me. I allowed old habits to dictate my actions, and presumed to give you and your men commands when it was not my place to do so. I'll start by asking you forgive me for that breach of conduct." He said to begin with, offering a sincere apology before leading into the more important subject he wanted to touch on.

"And secondly, I have to ask you. What did you feel, when you suddenly began to look around the cabin on the way here?" He asked, the question came in a tone that suggested he already knew. He just wanted to start this conversation in a way that would let him tell her what he was about to tell her, and make it easier for her to accept what he was going to say as truth.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla listened without interrupting, her expression remaining neutral as Kallous offered his apology. By the time he finished, she simply shook her head slightly. "You don't need my forgiveness for that." She rested her forearm on the table and leaned back slightly in her chair. "You had the clearest picture of the battlefield, and every suggestion you made helped save lives. If you'd started trying to command my warriors outright, we might have had a problem. But you didn't. You saw things we couldn't and shared them. That's called cooperation, not overstepping."

A faint hint of amusement crossed her features. "Besides, if I thought you'd crossed a line, you'd know." The statement was delivered with enough certainty that there was little room to doubt it. Veyla was not the sort of person who hid her displeasure when something genuinely bothered her.

The second question earned a different reaction. The amusement faded and her brow furrowed slightly as she thought back to the journey aboard the transport. "It was strange," she admitted after a moment. "Not painful. Not threatening. Just... like walking through a room and suddenly getting the feeling somebody had spoken my name. You don't actually hear anything. There's no voice. No sound. Just that brief certainty that something caught your attention."

Her green eyes settled on him, steady and direct. "It lasted maybe a second or two. Long enough to make me look around. Then it was gone." Silence lingered between them before her head tilted slightly. "Considering the way you asked that question, I'm guessing it wasn't random. So what exactly did you do, Kallous?"

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

"I am pleased to hear that you were not offended." He would say, his own amusement at her final statement crossing his expression. "As I'm quite sure your displeasure is to be avoided at all costs."

Kallous nodded with understanding. "I see. You are correct, it wasn't random. And judging by your answer I can surmise that you are not aware. Something I am about to rectify. In answer to your question, I touched your mind. Briefly, lightly and unintrusively I assure you. Your analogy of someone calling your name isn't a poor comparison by any metric. It is perhaps the closest mundane thing it could be compared to. I called your name through the force, and you heard me."

He sat back in his chair, his arms sliding back until only his hands rested on the edge of the table. "All of this to say that you are force-sensitive. You have the inborn ability to touch, feel and utilize the same power that the Jedi and the Sith do. The same power that I use."

This was a moment that could dictate the course of her life going forward. Whether she believed him or not was not the only factor either. She could choose to believe him or not. If she did believe him she had several other choices before her, whether to continue on with her life as normal, as if she'd never learned this fact. Whether to try to figure it out on her own, which was an incredibly dangerous choice to make. Or whether to seek out a Master who would be able to instruct her. It was ultimately her choice to make, and Kallous did not attempt to sway this decision, or even push too hard to convince her that what he'd said was true.

All he could really do, was see what she did with this information.

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla didn't immediately respond. Instead, she picked up her glass and took a slow sip while she considered what he'd told her. The reaction was remarkably calm considering the revelation. No denial. No immediate disbelief. Just thoughtfulness. Her gaze drifted briefly toward the room around them before returning to Kallous.

"I suspected it might be something unusual." A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. "I just wasn't expecting you to tell me I could hear people through an invisible cosmic energy field." The dry humor lingered for only a moment before fading. "Still, you've given me no reason to think you're lying. And I've learned enough over the years not to dismiss strange things simply because they sound impossible."

She nodded once, accepting the information with the same practicality she approached most things in life. There was no visible panic. No existential crisis. Just another piece of reality being added to the pile. "Alright. Let's assume you're right. Let's assume I'm Force-sensitive."

Veyla rested her forearm on the table and met his gaze directly. "What is the most common next step?" she asked. "Not what the Jedi would tell me to do. Not what the Sith would tell me to do. What do most people actually do when they learn something like this?"

Kallous

 

[Kallous]

Kallous considered her question, and he considered it carefully. Because truth be told, he didn't really know. Most people, to his knowledge, learned of their force-sensitivity at a very early age, and were either recruited very young too, or stayed alone in their comfortable lives. But he didn't actually know, so he wasn't altogether sure what answer to give her.

He mulled it over for a second or two, before deciding to be completely honest. "I'm not altogether sure, truth be told. Most people discover their force-sensitivity very young, and are frequently recruited or conscripted through various means into a force-order. Jedi and Sith chief among them, but they are not the only ones. I suppose the next thing for you to do is choose what to do with this knowledge, and it isn't a choice that needs to be made immediately. You can ignore it, and simply move on with your life. You can try to figure it out yourself, utilize it without training, a path that I will warn you against, as it is incredibly dangerous and the most likely to end in tragedy. Or, you could try to find someone to teach you. You could go to the Jedi, they would be happy to accept you. I would strongly discourage you seek out the Sith, for reasons I do not think need to be emphasized."

He took a look at his glass, taking another sip of his ale before continuing. "In the end however, the choice belongs to you. I simply thought it best to tell you. Because it would surface again eventually, in a moment of panic, fear, anger or some other strong emotion it might show itself without your intent. And that has lead to many events, that are sooner or later deeply regretted by the one who had unintentionally used the force. I would encourage you to find a teacher, but ultimately, that choice is yours and yours alone."

Veyla Krinn

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Veyla listened quietly, her attention never wavering as Kallous laid out the possibilities before her. The warning about trying to figure it out alone earned a small nod. That much made sense. She had seen enough people hurt themselves by mistaking confidence for knowledge. For a few moments she simply sat in silence, turning everything over in her mind while absently tracing a fingertip around the rim of her glass.

"The Jedi would probably try to turn me into a Jedi." There was no criticism in the observation, only practicality. "And while I'm sure some of them are decent people, I've spent most of my life as a Mandalorian. I don't see that changing any time soon." Her eyes lifted to meet his. "You said finding a teacher would be the safest option."

She paused briefly before asking her question. "Can you teach?" Not would you. Not will you. Can you. The distinction was deliberate. Veyla wasn't asking for a commitment or attempting to place responsibility on his shoulders. She simply wanted to know if the option existed at all.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You don't have to answer immediately, and I'm not asking whether you're willing. Those are two different questions." She took another sip from her drink before setting the glass down. "Right now I just want to know whether the option exists."

Kallous