Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Delirium

Asha Seren

Guest
A
The shuttle's descent into Sarrish Starport was swift and fleeting; it didn't even fully dock, it merely hovered above the landing space it had been directed to before an airlock was opened and out fell a body. Just as quickly as it arrived, it was gone - drifting back up toward the atmosphere from whence it had come.​
She tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud, bound arms incapable of softening the blow. It was only a few feet, and yet it knocked the air from her lungs all the same and in the aftermath she lay there - an unmoving puddle of flesh. What shallow breeze passed through the space set her dark hair in motion, billowing it up and around like the tangled strings of a puppet. It took a moment longer for her lungs to kick in once more, for any sign of life to be present within her. The steady rise and fall of her chest had the too-black clothes she wore creasing in response.​
Further motion came in the form of her shrinking presence, as she tucked her head down toward her chest and brought one arm up to cut off the worst of the light which threatened to burn her retinas. Far more harsh than the moonlight, it was head-splitting. Silence was all that existed for a time, before slowly but surely the general din of the starport kicked in around her, breathing life into her senses.​
Footfalls, voices, ships refueling, or landing, or taking off, the odd merchant trying to peddle some sort of unlicensed ware, to speak of only the noises. Too much; just two senses acknowledged and it was too much. Had it always been so loud? So bright? so...​
She felt the toe of some boot nudge into her side. It wasn't an inherently harsh gesture, barely a tap, but she jolted from it regardless.​
"You, uh, can't sleep 'ere," the voice attached to that boot stated, whatever concern they held wrapped solely within their tone and little else. They walked on soon after with a tut and a shake of their head. Up... She had to get up. Already she could feel bruising along her right side where she'd landed, and uncurling herself from the fetal position only made it all the more obvious. Up... It was time to get up.​
 
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Being this close to the Eternal Empire's stomping grounds made him nervous, plain and simple. They were a complex enigma he didn't bother trying to understand, but there was a darkness in them, there was always darkness in Empires. But a job was a job, and though he'd all but embraced his return to knighthood, Cale still felt called to wander. So, naturally, he’d done just that, and taken the transport gig that had brought him here.

It’d just been produce, hard to acquire specialty fruits that didn’t come anywhere but Alliance territory, and it’d paid well enough. The ship would be fueled on their earnings, their bellies would be full, and Cale could fund his vices. One of them, a lit stimstick, hung between his lips, the first one he’d had in a week, but he’d shrugged off any guilt over relapsing by the third drag.

He just had to calm his nerves, being jumpy so close to questionable territory wasn’t wise, less so when one carried a lightsaber hidden across the small of their back. The one-armed man wandered through the starport, tired eyes sweeping over the sea of faces, all going about their lives. These people kept their heads down, didn't bother with trying to change that around them, they knew it'd only be undone. They weren't stupid like him, standing against an inevitable tide.

But, among the many bitter thoughts swimming in his mind, something breached the surface. He turned his head slowly and saw a woman uncurling and being forced up. Poverty was an epidemic in the galaxy, it always had been, and always would be, and Cale knew by now there was no saving everyone. But still, something called him to her, something in the force itself.

Cale was too tired to fight back the call, and so sauntered over to the woman, regarding the being that'd stirred her with little more than a glance and a nod. Then, the Jedi looked to the woman and offered out his hand. He imagined he didn't look like much, bearded, a mess of hair, tired eyes, and arm missing, its absence partially hidden by a fabric shroud hanging over his right side.

"Need a hand? I've only got the one." It was a horrible joke, but it was the best he could do in terms of being friendly.

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
The bindings at her wrists made it all the more difficult to accomplish the task the passerby had requested of her. Both arms were forced to work in tandem, which made the act of detangling herself and trying to push up rather taxing. When she moved too suddenly she drew them both to her side, hovering over the tender ribs. It took a little while longer for her to catch her breath.
At least those binds kept the Force wholly at bay though. Suppressed, there was no sickness attached to it, no further overwhelmed senses or confusion. It was the only respite he'd provided her with in all of this. She'd been cut off, however temporarily, and that cut her battles in half.
Another set of steps approached her directly, and this time she recoiled preemptively. Her eyes were still pressed closed, so she didn't notice the offered hand immediately. No, it wasn't until the words were uttered that she realized this second stranger was there to help, not ridicule, not hinder. Her heart should have leapt at the notion, she should have soared, but instead she shrunk further back.
One eye opened, that which wasn't directly in the light; she winced all the same at the burn. Brought up both hands in what looked to be a shielding of her form but in truth was just to stave off the artificial lighting. Beyond it she could make out the man, gruff exterior, exhaustion wrought within the creases of h is face, unkempt...
And sole hand stretched her way.
Distrust flashed across her face in an instance. Though a quiet voice deep inside begged her to reach out, a larger and more oppressive entity warned against it. A trick, no doubt, a pawn of her tormentor. Was he sent to watch? To guide her back to her oubliette? Was this all a game of cathar and snowmouse?
Her one-eyed gaze shifted to his missing arm, then back to his face; she did not meet his eyes with her own. Just sort of stared at the lit stick in his mouth instead. She blinked her eye closed, then opened both soon after. Squinting, eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she adjusted to its use.
She should have reached out, she knew, but in spite of that she didn't. Instead she just stared.
 
At first Cale considered if he should've been offended, but when he looked down at her all he felt was, in truth, pity. He'd been there, in places like this, strung out on something or the other, so out of his mind he wasn't sure of up from down, he'd also been there when the issue had not been inebriation, but something far more sinister. Cale remembered what it'd been like, waking up again, One Sith troopers moving past him as he realized that he could move of his own accord again. He'd never been more confused, more lost, or more paranoid.

Cale's hand fell away, but the pleasant front held strong, and he kept it with enough conviction he was beginning to wonder if he meant it again. How strange that would be. Every day he was more in touch with what he'd been as he was now, and Cale couldn't for the life of him be sure if that was good thing or not. But that didn't matter, not here, what did was the woman on the ground.

"C'mon, I don't bite none." There was a slight drawl in his voice, one he'd carried the hints of all his life, and one he couldn't quite ever be sure where he'd picket it up. Maybe his parents? He barely remembered them now, the monsters that they apparently were. She didn't trust him, and he scarcely trusted her, but something had driven him this way, and he meant to find out what. He came a little lower, closer to her level, and offered his hand once more.

"You heard the fella," He kept the stimstick trapped between his lips, but found it in himself to put on the slightest of smiles. He noticed the shackles, and understood. "You can't sleep out here. And I get the feeling this isn't quite where you're meant to be, is it? Best we get you somewhere that the people who put those on 'ya don't come looking."

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
He didn't walk away, not even when he rescinded his hand. She watched him as he watched her, consideration and then understanding flashing across his expression. Though the woman might not have been in tune with the Force, she still had eyes enough to read others the way her training had bid. So long ago now, and so many of them forgotten, but some were instinctive. Some she clung to. It had helped her back there, in his grasp, helped to know what was coming. A blessing and a curse both. And mayhaps it would help her again now.
The stranger crouched down, reminding her that she couldn't simply remain here - wherever here was. Truth be told she hadn't even checked, hadn't explored with her gaze beyond looking at him. Part of her didn't want to for fear that she was back in that cell.
She could see the moment he spotted the Force-dampening bindings, he even verbally alluded to them. An offer to get her away from here, out of plain view. Wasn't that what Kobe had offered? Wasn't that why she was here now? With a blink she drew in a breath, not even realizing that she hadn't breathed since he'd begun to speak, and then finally - finally - she met his gaze. It was no easy task, and her pupils flickered in an attempt at avoiding the act. But she forced herself to anyway.
Whatever read of his intentions she might once have gotten, now there was only a vague impression. All the same, she knew that she had remained a crumpled mass for too long. Had she not already been trying to rise? Had she not already been meaning to reorient herself?
Even if this was a trap, a trick, the truth would come to her eventually. She couldn't evade it.
So she reached out with both her hands toward his one, and began to rise. Ignored the pain in her side, the tender ribs and aching muscles, and pushed up. "Thank you" came her whispered, hoarse voice, so quiet that it might easily have been missed. Whatever accent she'd once had was more or less lost, in fact the words themselves felt heavy and clumsy on her tongue. She still wasn't sure what to make of him, what to make of any of it, but it was one foot forward.
With any luck, it wouldn't be another ten back.
 
He helped her up, giving a slight nod in answer to her thanks. Cale was as gentle as he could manage to bring her up, and as she stood Cale could see pain written across her. Pain and confusion. He didn't bother trying to pry into her mind, it was rude for starters, and beyond that, he didn't think he needed to. The last time he'd stuck his neck out for someone so clearly being hunted, he'd ended up with a dead friend, a surrogate son, and a deal more lightsaber scars than he had prior. Hopefully, this would be less eventful, but he didn't count on it.

Her voice was a quiet thing, though he doubted that was its natural level, it sounded strained, like the words hurt to form. Cale felt a twinge of guilt that he knew she'd have to speak in order for this to work smoothly. Hopefully, it'd be worth it for her.

"Can you walk alright?" He had to imagine she'd have questions soon, why a random cripple would take the time to offer a random destitute person aid had to be bothering her, if it registered at all. But Cale didn't want to frighten her, Jedi had different meanings to different people, and he had no way of knowing what they meant to her. So he simply decided to avoid it as much as he could.

The prickling at the back of his neck he'd been waiting for had still yet to come, there were no hunters lurking to take them, or if there were, they were too good for him to stop anyway. He made his morbid peace with that in order to soothe his mind's constant worrying and went back to the task at hand.

"Do you have somewhere to go here, or do you need off-planet?" Here he was, offering transport to someone whose name he didn't even have. For all Cale knew, the sickly woman could've been an agent of Carnifex, Vulcanus, or something somehow worse. Or she was just a person in needed help, and he was an ass for thinking otherwise. It didn't much matter in the end, Cale was there, and whatever followed was simply the way it would be.

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
Up on her feet after a long and uncomfortable journey, on solid ground no less, every joint and muscle saw fit to contest the act and yet in the end she stood there all the same, something akin to defiance worming its way through her. That was... new. Something she hadn't felt since the first few times he'd pulled her back from the depths of Hell. Oh, he'd been quick to tear that from her. He had clones aplenty, and she had just one soul.
She snapped herself from those thoughts, and realized that she had begun to glower. Her expression softened, crumpled even, before his question came. Could she walk? She tested her weight on each leg now that her hands were drawn back from his aid, and after a moment she nodded. Certainly she could force herself to follow along until she could be afforded further respite, away from prying eyes.
Speaking of which, now that she was on her feet, to her full height - which was remarkably a few inches taller than even his height, though she was admittedly a little hunched given the circumstances - her wary gaze drifted around the starport. So many people, so many ships, so... busy. She couldn't bear the sight of it, the sounds, and for a moment she closed her eyes against it. Would that she could press her hands to her ears, alas. A soft inhale.
After so long that was one thing she still knew how to do, even without the Force as her ally. She'd never forgotten how to meditate, in fact it had been all that kept her from fully succumbing to him, all that had kept pieces of her held within. She quietened her mind, shut out the overwhelming din of the world around them, and then opened her eyes once more.
Focused solely on the man before her, and his questions.
"Away," she whispered once more, though admittedly not quite as quiet as before. "...please." But where? She knew that would inevitably be the next question, of course, that he'd need a destination, but frankly she didn't even know where here was. And besides that, where could she even go? There was nothing for her out here, nobody to turn to, no home or allegiance or...
Her breathing had become strained somewhere within those tumultuous thoughts. Did it matter where? Chances were he was just going to be bringing her back to Panatha, anyway, back to the puppet master lurking in the shadows...
 
Away, he could do away. There were plenty of places that would suffice, he just needed to be sure that she had a similar idea of places that were safe. His first impulse was Alliance space, the Order even if his hunch about her being more than met the eye was right, but something in his gut told Cale that might not suffice. But they could sort that out when they weren't out in the open.

"Okay, away it is." It was the 'please' that shook him, that told him once again that she had reason to be afraid. Even as he motioned for her to follow, he tried to think of what to say next and found two answers, each in the form of a question.

"Anywhere you don't want to go? I don't do Maw or Empire territory." No one like her would want to go there, not willingly, she lacked the self-importance or self-loathing that Sith categorically possessed one of, sometimes both. But wherever they went, Cale wouldn't take her there in chains, it would've been wrong, and made them look suspicious besides. He eyed an alley tucked between two portside merchants, unobserved by security and ignored by passers-by. It'd work, and if she went along with it, they could get the most uncomfortable part of things out of the way.

What better way to identify himself as a Jedi than by igniting his saber?


"Ship is a few pads down, but how about we get those off your first, yeah?" He nodded to the bindings, then jutted a finger to the unremarkable alcove, and hoped it didn't come off as strange. He still didn't know her name, and still, he didn't ask, for now, he was okay being strangers, formality could wait until they were necessary.

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
His agreeable words pulled her back from the edge, steadying her breathing in the process. Away. He would take her away from here, wherever here was, to Force knew where. But that was better than the alternative. Better than remaining where he'd seen fit to have her body dumped. The smallest glimmer of hope rose up within her, so subtle that she didn't notice it at first. If he wasn't an agent then maybe he'd provide enough ambiguity, uncertainty, that it would take a while to find her again...
If he wasn't already watching. Somehow, she almost knew he was.
That hope though was snuffed the moment she acknowledged it. Not an agent? What were the chances of that?
The question she'd been anticipating was uttered, and all at once her mental ruminations were somewhat answered. Not to the Empire? Truth be told she had no idea which Empire he spoke of, but at her time of death there had only really been one and that belonged to the Sith. No Empire? Did that mean no---
Stop it she warned herself. She wasn't in the clear yet. It wasn't as though he couldn't have fun and taunt her, leave her believing she was home free only to drag her back in. She swallowed down both doubt and hope and hung her head slightly, no longer able to even look at his face.
It was only then that she realized his question wasn't actually what she'd thought it was. It was the opposite. Anywhere to avoid... "Panatha..?" she breathed, unsure of whether that lay within either sphere he spoke of. No Panatha. Her eyes shifted this way and that slightly as she tried to recall any other no-go's. Her heart wretched as she spoke the next word, for truthfully it was somewhere she longed to be. But she couldn't, because going there would leave it vulnerable.
Going there would put it on his radar.
"Teth."
Were there other places? Yes, of course there were. Heck, even Coruscant was some place she had once known like the back of her hand, but the chances of her being noticed there were slim to none. Too many people. So she left it at that. No Maw. No Empire. No Panatha. No Teth. Truth be told, the fact that she was getting a say in any of it was unnerving.
She had by this point begun to follow after him, unsteady on her feet but managing to keep up all the same. She kept her arms tucked close to her torso, doing her best to keep the bindings themselves hidden within the folds of the black fabric which covered her. That noise was creeping in again, the voices, the loudspeaker, music from some ship, rumbling engines, and another thought came to her. One she strained to speak... One which was as whispered as the first words from her lips had been.​
"Quiet" she requested, shoulders hunched as though she sought to fold in on herself, "Somewhere... Quiet... Please."​
Now she was making full on requests? That thought terrified her and her muscles became tense and poised as danger rang through her and a need to bold arose. She didn't, not least because soon he spoke of ridding her of the binds. Close to his ship, he stated, though clearly he was as thrown off by the restraints as she was. Wanted them gone first.​
That was... Difficult. Could she bear to be without them? They were a hindrance, sure, they restricted her movement, and they were heavy and uncomfortable and cut into her wrists... But they kept the Force at bay. Kept its influence from taking over. Staved off the sickness inherent these days, and held the wound in suspension.​
Without that?​
Well... Hopefully he could not touch the Force himself. Hopefully he would not notice the gaping metaphysical wound caused by inept Jedi meddling in her youth. Hopefully he would not notice anything untoward about her when her presence returned in full.​
Seemed as though she'd made up her mind. With a solemn nod, she followed him toward the alcove. Another step toward freedom... Perhaps.​
 
"Okay, no Panatha, no Teth, I can do that." Cale assured her as they turned into the alley. There was no reason for anyone to pay them any mind, not reason to even turn their heads. Not a soul was looking, at least not one he could sense. Something about her was strange in the force, but nothing he could identify, nothing that would've stood out in a crowd, it was just a nagging feeling, one ever so slight. But he pushed that aside, and buried it.

Cale locked eyes with the stranger, and spoke with as assuring a voice he could muster,
"Trust me, okay?"

He reached behind his back, and found purchase, the saber hilt came from his back, inactive and pointed downwards. He hadn't used it before, hadn't ignited it since the once after its construction. He remembered its blade, the cobalt hues and how they soothed his mind and promised him that he was who he'd always hoped. It showed him that every good thing about him, about who he was before he'd been made a slave, was real. He was real.

And with a quick flick of the hilt's switch, it ignited. Blue light flashed over them, painting them in its glow, then vanished just as quickly. One moment it appeared and cut through the bonds, the next it was gone. Though only for a fleeting second, the first time Cale had ignited his blade had not been to kill, or fight, but to break someone's chains. To set them free, the way he'd begged for so long ago.

But as they fell, Cale sensed what was hidden, what had been kept at bay. It was pain, ruin, and rot, a wound in the force itself. He recoiled slightly, but Cale immediately returned his saber to its place behind his back, and held up his hand as if to show he did not mean harm. She was hurt, badly, beyond the ways he could physically see, and that he could mentally understand. He had never been much of a scholar, nor a healer, but that changed nothing. He was Jedi, and he would help her because it was right.


"It's okay, it's okay." He assured her. "I'm not taking you anywhere you don't want to go. No temples if you don't want them, no healers, just someplace quiet. I promise."

She must've been terribly frightened, he'd certainly have been if the roles reversed. Not everyone shared his hesitation or compassion. He needed to do something, say something.

"My name's Cale, okay? Let's get you out of here."

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
As they came upon the alley he spoke her no-goes back to her with assurance, and she nodded once appreciatively. Okay, good, neither of them. Beyond that, did it matter where? Maybe, but she couldn't think on it. Instead she lifted her head enough to look at him, and once their eyes met - an act which was visibly straining for the woman who wanted nothing more than to look away - he asked something that might have been impossible.
Trust... He asked for trust.
The woman swallowed, a heavy lump forming in her throat. She didn't respond, didn't nod or indicate in any other fashion, she just dropped her gaze. It was then that the lightsaber was produced. Of all the people in all the Galaxy, of course it would be a Force User who found her here... Well it certainly added to her hesitancy, it certainly added to her fears that he was just another agent of the Vornskr. The woman shuddered, and had to physically resist the urge to step back.
Instead her Epicanthix sensibilities pushed themselves to the forefront, and like her warrior people she held surprisingly strong despite it all. Her muscles were tense, her fists were curled into tight balls, and she held her breath.
Cobalt.​
The blade was cobalt blue. Not red. Not orange. Blue.
And as quickly as it flashed into life it was gone again, tucked away from view. She didn't see where; she watched as the shackles tumbled, broken to the ground. All at once her connection returned, and though she knew that he was speaking, though she saw him raise his hand in a show of non-combativeness from her peripheral, the words themselves and the meaning behind them were lost on her.
Fear had no part to play in that moment as she slumped over, knees sinking to the duracrete ground below, and gripped her broiling stomach. The sickness caused by how forcefully she'd been crammed into this meatsuit, this clone, came back all at once with a vengeance, and before she knew it she was spitting bile to the pavement. Nothing of any real substance rose up, Force knew how long it had been since she'd last eaten, but her body tried all the same to rid itself of .. something.
Arguably, her soul.
She knelt there a little while after the sickness abated, her skin had become pale and clammy and a tremor had set itself throughout her core. Then she lifted one hand, one free unrestrained hand, and pushed some of her now damp hair back from her face. Drew in deep and needy breaths of air. A name had been given amidst it all; she thought to lie in response, to give her old street name, or some other conjured up moniker, but in that moment something previously small and muted rose up within her.
Emboldened by her first breath of truly free air in decades...
"Asha" she breathed, no whispered tone to be found as she reached out with her left hand to find the support of the narrow alley wall. The woman forced herself back to her feet, chest rising and falling rapidly. "My name is Asha."
 
When she fell to her knees he found himself sinking down next to her, half trying to be kind, half to stabilize himself. She was a wound, and the force bled from her. Cale at that moment was not the man jaded by decades of torture self-inflicted and otherwise, he was who he'd been, no cynicism about the pointlessness of it all, just a man trying to help. He recognized that, and it faded instantly.

She'd been a whisper in the force before, but now she was a scream. One that anyone close by could hear, be they good or evil. That meant they needed to move, and fast, he needed to protect the kid from the same people that might be after her. He had questions, ones that needed answering, but later, when it was safe to ask them.

Asha

It was a familiar name, maybe it was common, maybe he'd heard it before, but it didn't really matter. He just needed to get her away from this place before someone else noticed. Still, it was good to hear the woman find her voice, and he rose beside her, masking his worries and finding his strength. He was Jedi, maybe she was too, or had been, or would be. He didn't know, he didn't care.

Cale cast his eyes up to meet hers, and gave a small smile, burying his hand into the pocket of the leather jacket he wore. It was largely featureless, but it may as well have been his robes. They were Kaze's trappings, but ones he'd been happy to make his own when offered. It was strange to say, but there was something familiar in Asha's eyes, something he saw in his own, she was tired.

"Alright Asha, stay close, ship isn't far. There's a kid on board, nineteen, about my size, he'll sense you too, don't worry about him." He didn't want to leave any surprises for her, and more importantly, he wanted her to know that he wasn't hiding something. He remembered when he'd first been freed, every helping hand was suspect, every omission damning, and it'd taken him a decade to trust someone again after that. With any luck, she wouldn't need to spend so long in that limbo.

The whole affair stirred something in him, something familiar, something he'd thought lost. Cale cared about this, about a stranger, because something in her spoke to something in him. Maybe their roads had been similar, there had been others like him, or maybe it'd been entirely different but the pain remained the same. But the strangest part was how little he cared about the difference, just the hints of similarity.


"Stay close, the longer we linger the more we're asking for trouble." Cale beckoned with a nod of his head, lit stim still trapped beneath his lips, and offered out his hand if she needed the guide. Taking it or not, Cale would lead them across the starport, to a freighter with her engines hot.

 

Asha Seren

Guest
A
Though she had indeed found her voice, Asha said nothing as he explained what lay ahead. No secrets, no unforeseen bumps in the road, she got the distinct sense that maybe he wasn't unfamiliar with her position, for why else would he even think to warn her? Most wouldn't, they'd be too focused on the now, on the immediate.
She wasn't sure what to make of it.
All the same she trailed along behind him as they wove their way through the starport and headed for his freighter. She did not take his hand, truth be told she'd struggled enough with doing so when he'd offered to help her stand, and that had been more of a necessity than this. Besides, with the rate at which they moved and the busyness of this place she figured he might need it should anyone knock him off kilter.
He only had the one, after all.
Her mind whirled with a hundred thousand possibilities of who he really was, and where it was he'd be taking her. Would this really just be a round about way to get her back to Panatha? Would he lead her on this wild goose chase, hold freedom suspended within his palm, then crush it before the night was over?
With her heart thumping something fierce, she came upon the vessel and therein paused. Stared at it, at the ramp and the engines and, well, all of it. Stared at him.
It was one thing to agree to such a thing, and another to actually put one foot in front of the other when push came to shove. Could she do it? Did she have it in her to trust him?
If Kaine wants to get you back he will was the cold reminder she leveled at herself. Whether by Cale and his freighter, or by other means, she knew he wasn't someone she could really outrun. Not if he truly sought her.
And so, with that in mind, and with a shaky intake of breath, Asha made her way up into the ship...
 

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