Even salt of the Earth hurts, when put in the wound...

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Katarn Homestead, Kitchen

Evening

"45 credits for a heart..." He muttered to himself, padding slowly through the kitchen. He had spent the night prior in preparation. A heart can't be simply cooked, it demands preparation and a steady hand, a pinch of patience. Inspected by the butcher, valves cleaned of the silver slivers and connective tissues, relentlessly cleaned of the blood. He washed the board over and over again, the threat of bacteria and cross contamination ever looming. Glass contained, filled with water and vinegar, he let it sit for 24 hours to pull out some of the bitter. Every heart has a touch of it.

Pulling the organ from the container, he soaked the muscle in another bowl of water, freeing it of the residual vinegar taste. Placing it on the board, he sighed as he heard the clank clank of steps against the newly installed sandstone tile. "What have I told you about walking in the kitchen?"

"Oh, quite sorry sir. I thought you meant the other kitchen."
"What other kitchen?"
"You know the one, sir. Don't play coy."

He smacked the flat of the chef knife against the board, flinging water. "I swear, if you crack a single piece of tile, you are re-installing it!"
"Oh?" The droid peered over Gabe's shoulder. "I hadn't realized you purchased those masonry upgrades for me. How thoughtful."

They hadn't purchased any upgrades. By Ashla, if he could find a proper purchaser for this thing, he'd sell it off without a second thought. Well, he would have a second thought, in the form of Ava's voice and her appreciation of having the help around the house. The droid continued to look over Gabe's shoulder.

"Can I help you, Dick?"
"Well, I have heard the Kiffar love their meat running off the plate. You do plan to cook that properly, yes?"
He exhaled, chopping onions and garlic. "Go bother Ava please."
"Oh yes, that will help with the twins with their sleeping. I will get right on that, sir."

The click clack of passive aggressive foot steps, Gabriel shook his head and laughed quietly. [member="Avalore Eden"] was probably sleeping, hopefully the protocol droid wasn't taking the suggestion seriously. It was hard to tell, in truth. But without the hushed cries of Destin and Armaud, Gabriel appreciated his time for self prescribed therapy. A sharpened knife finished the chopping, deft hands, still feeling the phantom ache of a dislocated shoulder, jammed the valves with the vegetables. Dousing it with oil and salt and seasoning, he wrapped it length wise with twine before inching tied twin along the shape. To create the shape of the heart once more.

He smiled, happy with the results, as he laid it on a bed of cabbage and carrots, before pre-heating the oven. Cleaning his hands under the faucet, he looked out into the darkness of the moon, spotting his own reflection against the glass.

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

Chevu had to see them again, even if she only got a peek at them while they were sleeping. Her first visit to Sulon was too short, and with Jacen Voidstalker’s remorseful words about his son weighing heavy on her mind, the Mirialan Knight wondered if she ought to see the twins more. Consequently, she arranged another transport shuttle to ferry her to the Sullust moon of Sulon to surprise Gabriel. Was it disruptful to them all? To Avalore and Meeristali? To Gabe? The children were still her flesh and blood after all, and she wasn’t possessive of them, but still, they were hers. Theirs. Chevu had many different reasons all lined up in a neat little row of rationalization.

I could easily die during one our next military operations. The more time I spend away from them, the more they’ll forget my face. I need to check on Gabe’s health after what he went through on Taloraan.

But it really just boiled down to one thing: the Mirialan just wanted another few minutes feeling their weight in her arms.

Coren wouldn’t be happy about it, but did he really have to know she had visited the twins twice in one week? She was a Jedi Marshal, decorated, and capable of making her own decisions, without consulting her Master. When the twins were first born, they were a constant reminder of her mistakes, but time, and the return of her rank had changed that. In her mind, they were free of disgrace, free to live in the galaxy and be a radiant testament to life. There was a volt in her step as she crossed the pasture that lead to the Katarn Homestead. The home's staff told her that he was in the kitchen so that’s where she headed.

The Mirialan walked into the kitchen with a shy smile on her face, never quite sure whether or not Gabe was happy to see her. The smells of cooking wafted through the room, making her stomach rumble loudly.

“Whatcha making?”

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Exhaling, that was a voice he didn't expect. The faucet ran hot, steam lifting from the stainless sink, as he cleaned the blade of the chefs knife. He didn't immediately respond, instead shutting off the faucet and running the rag against the sharpened length of the blade. The cutting board was washed and cleaned, he started to chop at the potatoes. He intended to line the outside of the heart with them, cooking them in the juices of the lean organ. But he suddenly felt distracted, words spoken by a new friend in the family room with drink in hand. Tensed jaw, he pressed his fingers against the countertop, cracking the knuckles. His arm still ached and for the coming storm of her presence, it seemed to draw it in like steel and bolts, clattering for the cold. He was starting to right things, position in the Hounds and as consultant for the Sulon Law enforcement expeditionary group, he was starting to know just what it meant when the arrow pointed north. But he loved her, the feeling of betrayal fogged up the lens, it made everything hazy.

"Nerf heart stew. It's often not used by many butchers, people don't enjoy the gamey flavor. So you soak it in vinegar, gets rid of the taste. Good source of vitamins."

The oven beeped. He suddenly missed the clarity of D-3po as he opened the oven. Dropping the potatoes in around the heart, he lifted the metal pan and slid it in. Checking the time, it would need several hours. The thing weighed over 5 pounds. Closing the door, he wiped his hands with the cloth, wondering if she had truly meant those words spoken on Taloraan. He had first expressed his love for her on Saleacumi, gathering Bupse fruits that now expelled budding presences in the field. Since then, every time he had the chance, he reminded her that it extended beyond merely love for the mother of his children. He was an old soul, but he clung to her anyway, and his memories clung to the words she spoke on his proverbial death bed. It didn't feel right to punish her but in the same vain, what was the point, if he was only ever going to see her in the fleeting moments of her fancy? A knife dealt a blow on Sullust, it now hovered over the fresh bandages to unravel it all.

Leaning against the countertop, he crossed his arms, rolling his tongue over in his mouth. He wasn't sure how to tell her that he knew. Why she had stayed on Sullust, why she had chose to not come with him and their children. For the life of him, he couldn't find the words. Seems her trouble expressing herself was wearing off on him.

"Did you come to see the twins?"

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

The Mirialan scrunched up her nose when he revealed the dish. Heart was a delicacy to some, but Chevu found something about eating it strange. Perhaps it was the significance of the organ itself, the cornerstone of emotions, and all it supposedly represented. Still, the dish did smell delicious. She let out a light chuckle.

"Vitamins or not, I'm not sure if you'll get me to try it." Her mirthful tone trailed off as she finished her sentence. Gabriel's stiff body language was like a klaxon blaring, and that usual spark in his brown eyes was much dimmer than usual. The man wasn't happy to see her. Something was very wrong. Her brow furrowed, brown eyes boring into him. It wasn't the twins, was it? Or his injures? It didn't cross her mind that he'd found out about she and Coren.

"Yes, of course I've come to see them, and you, too," she said, shifting from foot to foot. The Mirialan straightened out her tank top, a cavalcade of nervous gestures following. Green fingers ran through her hair. A fingernail found its way inside her lips.

Panic crept into her voice when she added, "Gabe, is everything ok with them?"

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Them?" He smirked with the corner of his mouth, scratching his nose. She perceived his change in tone, he perceived her nervousness. She wore her heart on his sleeve, whether she wanted to or not, and she held his in her hands. And he couldn't help but feel that she dangled it from its connective tissues, playing with it like it was simply a toy. The children were safe, happy and free from Sullust and the One Sith. He was still mending, bouts of numbness trailing through three of his fingers in his left hand, a dull ache in the morning resonating from the center of his back. He couldn't close his eyes without recalling her holding his hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. Or any of the other memories that clamored about behind his eye lids, not sure where they belonged. So in their moments of indecision, they existed everywhere. He bit down on his own pity, cutting it off at the cord, as he shook loose the ideas that something could be wrong with him.

"Destin and Armaud are well..." He said warmly. "Avalore tends to them wonderfully, when she isn't busy putting me back together. A trend I suspect wont be ending any time soon." He smiled, genuinely, the sparkle in his eyes for his children. "I had forgotten how fast they grow. Its feels like we are buying new clothes for them on a weekly basis." He turned from the center island and pulled out two glasses from the cupboard. Pulling out a bottle of mead, a batch he had started back on Sullust, he poured two glasses. If she didn't want it, he'd drink her serving. Turning, he placed her glass down and sipped from his. "I know it's too early, but I've already started looking into schools around the area. None within 50 km, I fear Avalore might have to home school them for some time." He didn't really hold any fear in that regard, he trusted the woman with all his heart.

He placed his weight against the island. Looking down at the glass and the golden shimmer of fluid within. He hated lying and he felt like not telling her what he knew, that was just as bad. Back when he met her in the Academy, he made a promise to himself. That while he may still be a murderer, crimes he could never wash away, he wouldn't be a liar. Not to her, not to anyone. But the truth hurt more than he cared to admit. Clenching his teeth, he exhaled. "I met a girl here, [member="Spark Finn"]. She told me." He felt wounded, more by the silence then the truth of things. "Why didn't you tell me? Was I ever anything but supportive?"

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

At the news that Destin and Armaud were doing well, Chevu gave a wan smile. The revelation should have made her feel better, but when Gabriel mentioned the twins growing out of their clothes, it sparked that ever-present feeling of failure. Clothing. Food. Shelter. Schooling. She couldn’t help but feel terribly selfish as she remembered there were others providing what she could not...scratch that, would not.

They’re better off here. You can’t put yourself on the front lines against the Sith and properly care for them. They deserve better than you.

Then Gabe mentioned Spark and she blinked furiously. A rut formed on the Mirialan’s green brow as she shirked his gaze. While Chevu assumed that he had, she didn’t even know for sure whether or not Coren officially broke it off with Spark. She never thought to ask. Plus, she and her Master didn’t talk much about their personal relationships with other Alliance members. Their pillow talk consisted of topics such as what kind of astromech makes the best copilot and whether or not they needed more tactical training facilities on Sluis Van. For two people doggedly obsessed with their duty, this worked for them.

Chevu ran both her hands through her hair, eyes squeezed shut, the apparent frustration bubbling. Was she supposed to tell Gabriel? Wasn’t who she slept with her business unless she herself chose to share it? Interpersonal relationships were still such a mystery to her, and she frowned at the thought that she was failing at those as well. Angrily, the Mirialan let out a huff of air.

“I didn’t tell you because, well...I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. Would it have made anything better?”

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He blinked steadily as the words spilled out from his mouth, the pause of silence that followed. She could hide things from him, her lips failing for what her heart intended. But her eyes, her aura, that bridge once created, it sang a particularly sad song. The sort that revealed to him a distance grown between them, the sort that rivaled a planet and its moon. He thought they loved each other but here, he wasn't even sure they were friends. Not enough to be honest with each other, what was truly the point? As she asked her question, the sort that answered itself, he finished off his serving of mead and ran his finger around the rim.

He couldn't answer her question. Not because he didn't have an answer, simply because the fact that she asked it, it spoke mountains on how she felt about him. Enough to say she loved, not enough to know the difference between the hurt of truth and the pain of betrayal. He would have thought she would have learned from Taris, from the very beginning of all of this, where his desires would have lied. That the greatest wound she could inflict was to assume he'd rather not know. That he would have somehow been better off, sent to the fleeting notions of someone who couldn't make up her mind on him.

Staring off towards a window, looking out through the breezeway, he simply laughed quietly with a shake of his head. "Did you mean what you said back on Taloraan..." He stopped and straightened out his back. "Nevermind." A sad smile crawled slowly across tanned skin, through a darkened expression. "The heart will be ready in a few hours. Stay for dinner, if you'd like. Otherwise...it was nice to see you. Tell Coren that if he needs a target to shoot at, you know where to find me."

He ran a hand through his beard as he walked passe her, padding barefoot across the tile. Opening a door into the tunnels beneath the house, he strode quietly into the subterranean alcoves of the homestead, not closing the door behind him. The first room being the armory, he sat down at the metal work bench and began work on a lightsaber staff, finalizing the installation of the experimental lens. The sound of metal scraping against metal could be heard softly echoing upwards, bouncing off the stone walkways leading back into the kitchen.

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

With one look, the young Mirialan’s heart sank like a stone. She’d said something wrong, something you weren’t supposed to say to someone important to you. His following words confirmed it. She’d struck more than a nerve; she’d unknowingly hit an artery. What she told Gabriel on Taloraan, was spoken from the heart. She loved Gabriel. Not only did she admire his character, his ability to gracefully rise adversities that would have killed lesser men, but was still drawn to the man for a multitude of reasons. Memories she had no immunity to, like those of Taris and his taut muscles moving over hers. The ropes of flesh and blood that tethered him to her. How she felt about Coren didn’t change how she felt about the Gabriel. It changed how she showed it. What was it that Oomomo always said, an old Sullustan expression. Something like, if you try to chase two wild nuna, neither will be caught?

Her stomach sank like a stone as he walked out of the room, brushing past her, and leaving her with only the smell of the heart roast and the shrill cry of birds outside the kitchen window. Inhaling deeply, Chevu smacked her hand on the countertop in frustration, then jogged off into the tunnel after him, finding Gabe hunched over a cylindrical object. It drew her eye like a magnet and she stared curiously at the device for a moment, then blinked and turned her gaze to his face. A trembling lip came.

“I meant what I said on Taloraan,” the Mirialan stated with no hesitation, then gave an exasperated shake of her head and spread her hands.

“Gabe. I have no experience with anything like this. I’m jumping without a course here.”

She still wasn't giving him enough, and she knew it. Words, Chevu, words. Lightsaber forms, she knew. Getting the Mirage safely through an asteroid field? Piece of puff cake. Force knew she was trying, but how did one navigate through the space of the heart and not end up in pieces?

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He had taken to pulling the blackened casing from the lightsaber, revealing the focusing crystal and lava crystal and the frame of the saber itself. Gelu sat adjacent, in a stand, completely constructed and needing only tuning for the permafrost crystal. Clicking the pieces together, installing the Disruptor Lens, he exhaled as he listened to Chevu explain herself. The duster can shot pressurized air over the lightsaber, freeing it of the particles that might have been trapped within. Otherwise, it could be a fire hazard with this particular crystal and the power required to contain it.

Sliding the casing back on, he spun it against the tongue and groove pommel, that would attach back to Gelu. Pulling a cloth from white holder against the wall, above the bench, he cracked his neck as he wiped any residual oil away from its surface. The lock was in place, preventing corrosion, and excess would only make it slippery. But there was only so long that he could avoid her statement, though his mind did turn to thoughts of walking back down through the alcoves, emergency exit pushing out into the hills of rolling acres around the estate. But as he had shown on Taloraan, he wasn't one to run from his problems. Gripping the metal bench, he clutched the siding in a grip, as he continued to sit.

"A ship casts out into space, it matters very little what the ship mates say to their loved ones as they depart, choosing the call of space over those they leave behind. When given the choice, a choice is made." He locked Ardor and Gelu back together, pushing hard with a click. "You aren't jumping, Chevu...you have already jumped." Tossing The Forelorn Hope from a back swing, he handed ownership of the weapon over to the Mirialan, never looking back at her. He pulled out a metal drawer, a row of rings against a dowel rod, and pulled one from clamp and strung it down a mandrel. With a tightened gasket in place, he pulled a rubber hammer out and began tapping at the gibeon. Trying to improve it's circular shape. "The permafrost crystal isn't focused. Take it back to Coren. Maybe between your reckless adventures into Techno Union and One Sith space, you can hone your force mastery under his tutelage. To what is required."

In her eyes, he had never deserved the truth, wasn't worthy of her confession. No matter what path of redemption he took, it was never enough. And he took it out on her and her choices. To choose a loose cannon over him and their children, his confusion gave breath to an anger he hadn't known since arriving at Sullust. And he ached for its expression, nearly uttering an apology, bitten back for the heat of the moment. As he tapped absentmindedly against at the ring.

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

Her dark eyes traced his fingers as his strong hands connected various bits of what looked like very much like a lightsaber pommel, one that called to her. With a rueful twist of her lips, Chevu caught it instantly when he lobbed it at her. She turned it over in her green hands. It was beautiful with a shiny, black Turadium hilt. Two sabers joined as one, locked together with tongue and groove slides. Resisting the blade's urgent calling to ignite it, she turned back to Gabriel with too-wide eyes.

"Is this for me?" Well, duh Chevu. It's not for Destin or Armaud is it? Even as she shook her head sadly, her green hands stayed firmly clasped around the hilt. The weapon felt so right, like the sun coming out after a rainstorm. "I can't accept it."

The room grew colder with Gabriel's words, and Chevu grew angrier.

"My reckless adventures?" she snorted incredulously. "We were...I was making sure that I got my hands on valuable tech so that our forces have the best equipment. That Obsidian armor? We've got to find out how it's made."

A palpable charge of the Force sparked off of her, emotions bristling like heat lightning. Then she let a long sigh escape. She stared at the floor as she forced out the words. How did this happen? How did she always have something to be ashamed of no matter how many Sith she fought?

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you Gabriel."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He'd let the suggestion of her not accepting of the saber be as water against oiled surface, slicking quickly away from him. It either be in her hands or against stand. Perhaps she would find a suitable trainer, not one so fixed on the fringe focus of the force and shooting blasters across empty space. But to hear her speak of excuses for foolish acts, he couldn't hear the apology for what it was. And by now, it would as easily wash away stain as ink upon ceramic, stuck perpetually even through autoclave.

He smacked the mandrel against the metal bench, denting the surface as tin gave way to steel, bouncing the ring away from it's surface. It dinged against the back wall, hitting the stone surface beneath them as he stood. He felt a certain taint within her, the up-welling of a particular presence he had not known. Her temper, it was the first he would have seen it, but he wondered if she would choke on the excuses now or try and swallow them, continuing to sup on it.

"What of Gos Hutta? What technology would you have gained there? Hmm?" He scratched the back of his head and laughed, shaking it disapprovingly. "And what about Onderon? What spoils prompted you to make haste there, while pregnant with our children?" He could feel it, upset words held in but for the moment that they might arise. "Were there lives always less important than your desires for the Alliance?" He felt Ava's words in his ear, speaking about the loss of life continually justified for the cause. He bared his teeth, hand pressed against his beard as he tried to think. His mind raced, trying to wade through it and her thoughts. Pushing his long bench from way, kicked free of his work place. Breathing in again, he rested his hand against the neckline of his shirt and narrowed his vision towards the woman. He loved her but all he could feel now was sadness and angst.

"You pad through life, Chevu, jumping without proper course, one reckless adventure after another. And now..." He flared his nostrils. "You bind yourself to the man who knows nothing else. Reckless, unbalanced...apologies aren't enough for those who care about you. What would Oomomo want for you? Is this the path he foresaw, for you?" His eyes drifted down to the weapon in her hand, the feeling within her steeped in desire to see it used. "Ignite it."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

Shots fired. Gabriel thought her an idiotic fool, and why? Because she couldn’t make up her mind about two men? She was growing as a Jedi, in leaps and bounds. There were murmurs around the temple that she would not be a Knight much longer. Chevu had fought the Final Order, the First Order, and the One Sith. She was learning instinctive astrogation, ramping up her piloting skills, and had practically mastered the ability to absorb the Force. But according to some, like Gabriel apparently, she was still a fool. Some around the Alliance even said, a whore.

Because of love? Because she hadn’t learned to master emotions? The very ones that Jedi warned about in the first place?

“I freed slaves on Gos Hutta,” she protested, a pout playing along her green lips. “Onderon…” Chevu stopped. Onderon was a wrong-place-wrong-time situation. She had no immediate answer for it.

No, Chevu wasn’t perfect, and yes, she was reckless sometimes. Gabe was definitely right about that. A mortal being, the Mirialan blundered, but she always picked herself back up again. Did one mistake have to be the drop of ink that clouded the clear water for days to come?

“Ignite it.”

As the command came, she felt the Force surge up within her. The weapon begged her to thumb the activation switch, and bring it to life with a hum. Chevu glanced down at the saber hilt and then back up to Gabriel. Still gripping the cylinder tightly, she shook her head so vehemently that hair fell in her eyes. Her energy danced like brewing storm clouds, growing a tiny fringe of darkness at the edge.

“I can’t accept this,” she repeated, defiantly glaring at him. The Mirialan countered him angrily. “Why should I? I’m unworthy of it in your eyes.”

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Unworthy...in my eyes? When has my opinion ever mattered?" She wasn't unworthy of the weapon, merely unworthy of his patience now as he reached down to the weapon with a lightning fast clutch. It wasn't his intent to wrestle it from her hands. No, instead, his finger pressed against the ignition of the Ardor, the jolt and recoil spilling out a lava colored blade from the black emitter of the hilt. He flashed a frown, his own senses feeling the storm that dwelt beneath her. Beneath those onyx eyes, the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder in the distance. This was more than about him and her, or their children. It was about her playing with something she didn't understand, a darkness dwelling beneath the green water. Tar and oil, sticking to every surface, laying wait for the ignition.

"You wave hand close to the fire now, not knowing the hurt of the burn..." The Grand Marshall hadn't expressed his disdain for the darkside in clear enough terms, it seemed. But when someone is told they can't do something, sometimes it only tempts them more. And now, he felt the heat of her fire against his skin, the threat of scaring that may soon follow. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped back from her, unable to interpret her body language and her aura. It was a first for him, but it wasn't the sort he'd see prosper further in his home. For their children, for her, he would reveal this only to blot it out.

Holding out his hands, unarmed, he furthered the quarrel with a bite back. "You counter with anger what you perceive as truth. It's not me that finds you unworthy, it's you yourself that makes such measure, defensively. Had you not been worthy, I would have never crafted it for you in the first place." Dropping his hands, he frowned once more, lifting a finger in accusation. "Let that anger fester in you and will corrupt you, forever. It's not power, it's the easy route. And it's something your master should have dealt with long ago."

He narrowed his eyes at the beam, then back to her green skin. He almost laughed, how much he missed Taris couldn't be shown now. He loved this woman more than he cared to admit, though had admitted to her time and time again, and now was forced into a position that he mourned. She may have not mastered the notions of love, but he had never claimed to be a Jedi. He was in no required place to hone his feelings. His eyes shifted from anger to just a shadow of grief, hidden behind an attempt at indifference, as he force pulled a metal lightsaber hilt to his hand from the wall. "Prove yourself worthy then..."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

"Your opinion has always mattered to me Gabe," Chevu insisted, almond eyes narrowing into slits as they bore into him. There was an unexpected jolt as his hands clasped tightly around the saber, covering hers, finger thumbing the activation switch. With a snap-hiss the blade of the saber blazed with light, freeing itself from its metal coil. The fiery beam was the color of molten lava pouring from a Sullust volcano, and wielding it felt powerful. It thrummed with its own desire to be hers. You are worthy.

If the other marshals caught her using the dark side, she would be stripped of her rank for good. Possibly even thrown into an active volcano. But the temptation was too strong, like a crystal ring beckoning to be grabbed. Before she knew it, she was letting it in, and letting it move her muscles. Letting it use her. It had aims for her. Plans for her. With the dark side in her veins, Chevu felt not only felt powerful, but something else. It was the holy grail of feelings, and one that was so rare to her: confidence.

Furthermore, Gabe was using his words to stoke that flame, poking the tortured beast with a stick, the point too close to the bone. "Stop..." she tried to interject, knowing his words held truth. When he jabbed his finger in her direction, and insinuated that her Master had failed, she wasn't sure if he meant Coren or Oomomo. It didn't matter. It was offensive either way. Her upper lip lifted into a snarl.

There was a lightsaber in his hands, along with a challenge on his lips, one that she was ready to meet, ready to rip apart with her bare hands. Lightsaber combat was not Chevu's strongest asset in battle. She had been trained well by Master Oomomo, but lately, with Coren, she'd kept her saber on her hip, choosing instead to practice less formal Force methods, like Force bomb and absorb. It kept her wild and unpredictable on the field. Right here and now? Her blade willed her to use it. Letting the forbidden energy bolster her muscles and reflexes, Chevu accelerated instinctively towards her target with a direct thrust, which turned out to be a feint. Instead she moved towards his saber hand, attempting to disarm the weapon from him.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He stepped to his left, the blue glow of the beam flowing out from the generic hilt held in his hand. Ardor caught wind as he interpreted her movement, telegraphed for the easy route of disarming his right hand. But she had crossed her vertical plane. It would have been more natural for her to attack towards his left side after the thrust, her right side. Efficacy and no weapon to defend it, without having to move or cross his own central plane. The simple movement of his step, the upheld beam adding immovable object for her second strike. As the lava beam caught against the glow of the saber, he stepped back out of reach and narrowed his eyes, patting his left breast with his left hand.

"Stop what, Chev?!" He flared his nostrils as he dropped his saber to a dove tail guard in his right hand, circling the woman with an acute irritation. "Oomomo laid the potential for your foundation, hardened beneath the pressure of a past that demanded action. And beneath Coren's teaching, it crumbles with the erosion of the darkside. You give into anger and fear and guilt and shame and contempt. Would you have me just let you go, the woman I love and the mother of my children?" He continued to circle her, eye darting back and forth from her and his trail before him. Berth widening, he lifted his left hand, finding harmony in a certain distasteful purpose. He felt the darkside swell in her, the path tread by the weak of heart. But her heart was strong, as he had always seen it, and this seemed wrong. "I'm sorry but I won't."

He closed his eyes and smiled, her force aura was wild and unkempt. She had power but like the sun beating down upon the Sulon, there was far more power in it's magnification. "Your mind is unbalanced..." He pointed towards her feet. "...Your footing falls quickly behind. Your whole aura..." He waved towards her whole presence, the flash of the Annulum Ignis giving him a certain keen eye towards the situation. "It screams of your intention and plans. You could attack in the dark of night...and poor lighting would offer you no advantage." He stopped pacing and pointed to her with the lower saber. "You don't have the training to fight on instinct. So think before you attack, quiet your mind, and find purpose in the worth of bettering yourself, for those you benefit and care about. Quit feeling sorry for your predicament, that is that path to self-condemnation."

He flicked his his wrist outward, fanning the blade in a low guard. "Again."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

When her thrust did not find its target, foiled by his dodge, she twirled like a dancer, finishing her rotation with her saber humming diagonally in front of her, back in a defensive position across her body. His words came like sharp barbs to her heart. He scored a critical hit.

"Coren is not to blame for any failure of mine," she hissed. "I am responsible for my own missteps." She twirled her saber once and mirrored his circling. Exhaling sharply, the Mirialan shook her head incredulously. Why were they doing this? The dark side ebbed, making way for the light to return.

"Gabe, I don't want you to let me go," Chevu insisted fiercely. "I want to be a part of your life." Ugh, she hated the sound of herself, like a whining, defensive little girl. A little girl who wanted things she couldn't feasibly have, like to be with both Coren and Gabe. To be a mother to the twins, but also save the galaxy. Wanting everything going was going to leave her with nothing. That's why people made choices.

Gabriel's unrelenting accusations continued to sting. She was a Jedi Marshal. A Jedi Knight. A pilot. Master Oomomo had assured her that she was something special. Not this failure that Gabriel saw.

"Shut up!" she shrieked, surprised by wild ferocity in her own voice. "Just shut up!"

The dark side pulled at her sleeve like an angry child. You can have it all, it told her. She let it in again, feeling it flood her system, churning up her endorphins like a drug. She took another clumsy swing at him, a graceless one, marred by complete lack of control. At this point, she was simply lashing out, hoping to somehow punish him for painting her with such a tarnished brush.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The shriek surprised him, in so much as that it came out from those lips. Her expression, so quick to be set off balance, her mentally shook his head for the blindness of love. And how it how clouded his judgment prior to these moments. She was a top heavy speeder, so easily moved by the heavy wind, he wondered if she was truly prepared for the toils of warfare. She might combat the more direct Sith but for those that might truly learn of her nature, dun moch would be an incredible ally.

Spinning his right wrist 180 degrees in a fan in front of him, it went from an outward angle to an inward guard with no effort, catching the smack of her saber. And as if in reverse, he stepped to his left once more and flicked her lunging arm up and away from him. He'd have lunged at a clear opening, brought about by frustration, but that wasn't the point here. With a show of teeth, he stepped once more away from her.

"Does that feel good Chev, to be a victim to your emotions?" He spoke as if chastising a child for touching the knife, realizing it's sharpness with an up-well of blood. She was a dancer and in her display of limber movement, absent control, he had forgotten how long it had been since they spoke simply as friends. Was that time so removed from them now? To be taken from loving atmosphere and thrown into something more closely resembling disdain. He reminded himself that it was apparent, whatever was happening in her mind, that Coren wasn't the one to correct it. "The darkside, it offers you the illusion of advantage. That very feigned thing you now think is yours, you press to your own bereavement, without proper footing or plan. A reoccurring trend."

He spun the blade upwards from his right and back down towards his left, crossing back over his waist with a twist into reverse grip, before flicking it back in her direction, grip once again forward. "You acquiesce to your anger and it makes you feel mighty. But with every jab and punch and thrust, you tire and relent to frustration. Because anger corrupts and you've allowed the smallest of grips, coiling around the very fibers of your being. And now you nurture it." He chewed on his bottom lip, staring into those big doe eyes filled with anger and hatred, as he prepared for her to strike again. "Think of your children Chev, think of the Alliance. Think of what matters to you. How are these things secured with such reckless disregard for your own well being?"

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

Again, Gabriel parried her clumsy blow and then flitted away. Frustration bloomed in her core and bubbled outward, needing release from her slender frame, but finding no satisfaction. Even the ease at which the experienced bladesman stepped out of range seemed to designed mock her. Then came his words, spoken in a tone seemingly reserved for a young padawan struggling with her lightsaber velocity and not a decorated Jedi Knight. Chevu’s eyes burned with anger. She flung the lightsaber hilt to the wall in petulant rage. It clattered coldly against the floor, its blade extinguished. She was tired of being embarrassed by her poor form. Tired of being insulted and chastised like a child by everyone around her. No wonder she ran to Coren. Maybe Starchaser did not teach her how to temper her emotions, but he had enough respect for her to treat her like an adult. Respect seemed was in short supply here on Katarn.

“I’m no one’s victim, Gabriel.” she insisted. As proof, she gathered the Force around her, charging up for a larger attack against him. With the mention of the children, knife met gut. She was a failure as a mother, and it haunted her. That was why the babies were on Sulon with their adoptive mother. To bring them up in this context felt almost criminally unfair.

"What matters to me, is defeating the Sith," she hissed. "Everything else is secondary."

With her battered composure finally broken, waves of the dark side burst from her chest, as she let loose with a violent Force wave that was powerful enough to shake the weapons from from their racks.

Unfortunately she’d forgotten that he was still nursing injuries from Taloraan.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He thumbed the Annulum Ignis ring, pulling it from the ring finger and hoisting it in the middle of his palm. It was akin to the recession of the tide, before a greater wave, he saw the all too familiar signs of a high tide press against him. But he assumed it would come in the form of an actual fight, not a crescendo in power with the blast resembling telekinesis. The lightsaber hit the floor with a hard metal pang and immediately, he knew he had let his anger for her go too far. Baby steps would be needed to purge this mind of the darkness that encumbered it. But as soon as he was ready to step forward and do that very thing, he felt the surge that cold yank of wind that preceded the damage. And it was too abrupt for him to do anything about it. He was, after all, still healing.

The force wave smacked against his chest as he attempted to let loose a telekinetic buffer, preventing any damage around her. But it was too dispersed, too haphazard, and he hadn't raised full guard against her. He underestimated her and as the wave hit him, he paid for it with a particular premium. Flung against his work bench, the metal table dented against his back, caving in the drawers from the impact, as he slid from a stand to a sitting position. Letting out a cough, he tried to laugh, as he lost control of those particular three fingers and the ring rolled out of his hand. Bouncing against the stone floor, it spun and wobbled before stopping just feet from Chevu.

She must feel vindicated, he thought, as he pried his arm from the clamp of the metal. But it wasn't his arm that was the problem, he was afraid he had agitated the vertebrae that were still healing. Exhaling, he flung the now extinguished hilt from his grip as it busted against the wall. It was only a practice saber anyway, he rubbed his beard with the forearm of his unimpaired arm and exhaled, looking towards all the damage that she had done with that force wave. She was powerful in the force. But her discipline, there was so little to speak of, his expression darkened as he turned back to her, fighting back that aggravated pain in his left side.

"Everything and everyone is secondary? You are but a stones throw from the enemy you fight, Chev..." He felt a spasm in his left hand tightening into a fist as, his right jerked over to clench around the wrist. "You can't persist like this..." He let out a grunt as it passed, breathing in harshly. "I'm sorry I pushed you like that."

[member="Chevu Visz"]​

 

[Chevu Visz]

There was a deep vacancy in the Mirialan's black eyes as she watched Gabriel hit the workbench and fall. Even the cracks in the wall and the disheveled weapon racks didn't register. Her eyes were simply on Gabriel where he was sprawled, arm flung out to receive the Forlorn Hope in her grip. The cylinder flew back into her hand like a missing puzzle piece. Chevu thumbed the switch and strode towards the injured man, pointing the orange blade towards him, the tip of its energy beam placed just shy of his neck.

"Am I still unworthy?" the Knight asked, an unfeeling smirk twisting the side of her lips. The dark side was like a veil around her now, swallowing up any vestige of the light. Before he could answer her, her eyes caught the glint of metal where a ring rolled across the floor only to rest next to her boot. The green alien girl extinguished her saber and squatted next to the ring. She could feel the power emanating off of it and curiously plucked it off the floor. Instantly, sensations flooded her. An unforgiving frost in the air. Mountains barely visible through the snow. The beauty of the tundra in the springtime, when the foxes' coats turned to grey. The breathtaking grandeur of Arkania seized her, and filled her with a pang of homesickness.

She let out a ferocious blink and turned back to Gabriel, pushing herself up to stand. The darkness was draining away, albeit slowly. Her brow formed a crease, and she squinted at him. Then she rushed to his side, still clutching the ring. An an arm was offered to help him stand.

"Gabe. Are you alright?"

[member="The Revenant"]