Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Exile's Path

It had been some time.

The exile had taken more to personal matters as of late. The Crusade was well beyond the need for his constant supervision, and his lieutenants served their purpose well enough. They would survive without him for a time, as they had since his crippling on Korriban some time ago. The Ashlan leader's whereabouts were unknown to all save for a few in the upper echelons of command, and they had been ordered to keep their lips sealed. Outwardly Cedric was overseeing important industrial projects that rendered him incapable of public appearances. Truthfully, that was not entirely a lie, but his priorities had shifted from governance to more personal matters for the time being.

One of those matters, perhaps even chief among them, was the shift within his old kingdom. Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis had finally revealed himself, though the details of his discovery were murky at best to the exile's eyes. Just as before, in nearly innumerable times past, the democracy of the core had been infiltrated and subverted by the will of the Sith. It left Cedric to wonder, as he so often had during his days in service of politicians, if the rot was an inherent feature of representative democracy, or a failing on the part of the Jedi for not noticing it soon enough. In the past he'd blamed the former for its inherent fragility, but he desired not to draw conclusions without first examining the situation personally.

Among the Galactic Alliance, there were a small handful of beings Cedric outright trusted. Auteme Auteme was one of them, if only for her candor the past few times they had spoken. His feelers within the core were not what they once were, but even one that walked in the dark places would hear of a Jedi ascending onto the political stage. The news had been interesting - perhaps even vindicating if he were being honest. If it were true, then she had taken the first steps onto the exile's path: his path. For a follower of the code to acknowledge that they might need to step across the tabooed threshold and enter the political game was nearly unheard of, and if there had been a council of elders left alive to judge, would have been condemned: just as they had condemned him so long ago.

Cedric would arrive at Auteme's senatorial office in the early hours of the morning. His lightsaber and myriad other weapons were confiscated as he stepped in the building, though a sympathetic intern assured him that should trouble show itself, they would be delivered to him immediately, law abiding or otherwise. Many years had passed since his leadership was cast off for the sake of mob rule, but it seemed that some still held tight to the old loyalties.

The exile was clad in a black trenchcoat drawn over an Essonian officer's uniform. Heavy jackboots thudded against the floor, announcing his presence long before he halted outside her door if the empyrean had not already. His signature within it was as illegible as ever, any attempts to probe or discern the reason for his coming would come back with a plain dullness, as if his mind were a blank white wall, utterly featureless and seemingly impenetrable at first glance.

The servos in his cybernetic limb whirred as he knocked a metal fist on the door. "CSF, we've been trying to reach you about your speeder's extended warranty."
 
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Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson


"Come in," she called -- before remembering the door release on her desk, which she proceeded to press. The door slid open to let him in.

Auteme didn't know how to feel about the visit. They were far from being on unfriendly terms; she wouldn't turn him away. Yet now more than ever was she aware of public perception. Cedric Grayson, coming to visit her office? It wasn't that long ago that she herself was berating Senator Kotibana for the brazen attitude she'd taken to her relationship to the Ashlan Prime Minister -- granted, Auteme and Cedric's relationship was not nearly as... close.

Despite the upgraded security, word would get around quickly enough. At the very least they'd be speaking in her office; the other day she'd gotten some upgrades to her sound-security, so they'd have enough privacy.

Privacy for what, though?

She paused a moment, before rising and moving around her desk. "It's been a while, Cedric," she remarked, looking him up and down. Something had changed. As far as she could remember, it was the first time she'd ever heard him attempt a joke, and for that, part of her felt guilty for not laughing.

She'd certainly changed. All their past meetings were in slightly less formal settings -- today, as usual, she was dressed in her senatorial attire; understated, yet nonetheless influenced by the latest fashions. It occurred to her that Cedric would be one of the few people to recognize the influence of the previous Chancellor on her style; the heavy sash, darker fabrics, and large earrings reminded her of Adhira, at least.

How many people seemed distant. For the first time in a long time, Auteme found herself hesitating, unsure how to proceed.
 
"That it has," the exile's gaze darted about the furnishings of the room, eyes narrowing as he instinctively cased the room for obvious surveillance devices. Half a second passed before his conscious mind caught up with the body, and he offered her something of an apologetic shrug to what he assumed was obvious snooping.

Her hesitation was equal parts his, and whatever thoughts he'd been chewing on before stepping through the door melted away as he regarded her. It had only been a few months since their last meeting, and yet her stance was different. The way she carried herself, it was not akin to the unsure girl he'd offered bits of half-thought advice and wisdom. There was a weight there that, while present before, was not nearly so heavy. It was one he understood all too well.

In the past, Cedric had regarded her as a student, a junior. Now, perhaps, Auteme might occupy the place of an equal. Time would tell.

"You look like the chancellor, senator," he mused thoughtlessly, " - like Adhira, I mean. It suits you. I liked her, despite our differences." He had no idea what had become of her, nor anything of Tithe's reign aside from that it had happened. The exile had chosen to withdraw from the galactic stage after his emergence from the Heelen Sei. There were far too many questions that needed answered, and even more lessons to be mastered to be concerned with mortal worries.

And yet here he was, indulging in such worries. "I was surprised to hear of your interest in politics. Jedi getting involved in the senate has always been controversial, but then Adhira once walked the path too, though as I understand it, she walked away from the order." He paused for a moment, tapping his cybernetic fingers unconsciously along his belt. "Have you?" It was forward - perhaps too forward, but his curiosity demanded that it be sated.


Auteme Auteme
 


"Well, ah- the code of the New Jedi Order prevents them from 'ruling', so, holding positions like mine," she explained. She moved to the couches flanking the coffee table at the center of the room, and made a gesture to Cedric to sit.

"Of course, the definition of Jedi is flexible. But part of my transition to this -- I've stepped a bit away from the order, yes." She shrugged.
 
"I don't suppose there are many elders left to condemn a breaking of the code. You, Ryv, and all the others had to carve your own path with nothing but the Force and a few old holocrons to guide you. I think you can decide for yourselves what is right and what is wrong," he replied as he took a seat on the opposite couch.

"If what you're doing is right; you know in your gut that it is right, and neither logic nor the Force have given you any reason to think otherwise, then perhaps it is the code that's stepped away from you. There is nothing inherently evil about a Jedi leading a people that want their leadership, so long as the Jedi does so purely out of service."

The exile leaned back into the couch, "What made you decide to take this path?"

Auteme Auteme
 
Auteme gave a light exhale and smile. Was service what she was doing here? That seemed optimistic. Not entirely untrue, but still...

"I... after Coruscant, I felt as though some of my decisions had put some distance between myself and the Order I was meant to be leading. So I decided to pursue this. Make a difference, on a different scale entirely." She paused, thinking back to another meeting she'd had recently. She leaned forward slightly.


"Is this just a catch-up? Or did something else bring you here?"
 
"That must have been a difficult choice," He replied, a quiet sympathy generally alien to his voice lacing his words. "Every action we take sends ripples throughout the galaxy; even the lightest pressure in the proper place can topple an empire, and rarely can anyone see these critical points when blinded by the glow of a lightsaber." A lesson he'd resisted learning for decades. "I think, armed with your teachings and experiences, you might do far more for the core from the senator's chair than you would from the front." That had always been his own justification for entering the political arena. There were doubts, always would be, yet his belief in his reasoning had not wavered. Perhaps it had changed, evolved even, but it remained all the same.

"I am here because things are changing," his gaze met hers directly, "The galaxy is shifting. and not for the better. Our old allies in the Imperial Order are hungering for galactic dominance, and the Maw's threat has only grown, not diminished with our efforts. Coruscant was proof of that, but you know this."

The exile cast his eyes to the floor, lips parting to speak, but the words died in his throat, murdered by his hesitation. Auteme Auteme was a professional peer, and there were certain things peers should not be privy to. Then again, Ryv Ryv trusted her implicitly, or at least he'd seemed to last the exile had seen of his favored apprentice. It was not Cedric's choice to reveal weakness, but if any would take advantage of such vulnerabilities, he doubted she would be one of them.

"Truthfully I'm here because I wanted to know what happened then, with Solipsis, and what had become of you. You've made a defining choice Auteme. It is the choice I made, so long ago, and the same choice that made me an exile in the eyes of our forebearers. I wanted to see you for myself: to see if you'd changed."

Another moment's hesitation. "...and I wanted to know if you've heard anything about Ryv lately. He is hidden from me in the empyrean, like he does not want to be found, and despite my training and what the code teaches, I cannot set aside my worries. I feel something terrible is in store for him, if it hasn't already yet. All I see are churning waters when I look into the depths of the empyrean when I reach out to him."
 
Auteme suddenly felt very cold. The reason she left the order, why she'd felt this need -- it wasn't all difference. It was failure.

It was Solipsis.

Emotion clogged her throat, and tears welled in her eyes.

"I... he won," she said, her voice breaking. "I had all the cards, all the pieces. I knew everything, and- and..." She shook her head, trying to fight it, but soon the sadness, shame, and guilt overwhelmed her. Her hands came up, trying to keep the tears from flooding the room.

How many had died when the Maw had come to Coruscant? How many had died in the Temple, in the Senate? How much of it was her fault? If she'd been quicker, if she hadn't signed the confinement order, if she hadn't...

In some twisted way, she couldn't really even pin her feelings on those who had been hurt, or those who had done the hurting. It was all her. The selfishness made her guilt worse. The feelings that had destroyed her not days after the attack came back with new fervor, and she cried, crumbling on the couch.
 
The exile sat frozen for a moment, his expression softening somewhat as Auteme Auteme fought the coming breakdown. It did her credit, but even the greatest of Jedi could not stave off the unpleasant realities that accompanied life as a human being. In the past, he might have judged her for allowing her emotions to take so much control, but he'd been a different man then. Experience and maturity brought him to other conclusions, and where once there would have been cold condescension, now there was an unsure, yet all-together genuine compassion.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as Cedric rose from the couch and moved to place a hand on the senator's shoulder. Physical contact was something he generally turned away from: all its implications weakened the resolve of the soul, or at least that was what he believed. Even still, to deny Auteme now might well prove catastrophic: a critical point in which the ripples might stretch out toward the rest of the galaxy were he to act without wisdom.

"It's alright," his voice was calm and hushed, the same tone he'd taken on when he'd dragged Ryv from the underbelly of Coruscant. "Solipsis...no, Kaigann, he is a snake. The star pupil of my father's teachings," the quiet reassurance was briefly replaced by a biting bitterness. "He was trained in our ways. He knows how to manipulate them better than anyone else alive, I'd imagine. This game that he has been playing was planned out before either of us were ever even born. We've just been trying to catch up this entire time."

Uncertain of what to do now, Cedric settled down alongside her, and spoke from his heart rather than his mind. "What I'm saying is that I understand how you might be feeling right now. I had the chance to stop him before Csilla ever happened, but I hesitated because he came to me as family rather than as a Lord of the Sith. When the assault on Csilla came, once again I had the opportunity to kill him, and again I hesitated, hoping against hope that he was under someone's sway, that his actions were not his own."

The exile shook his head, "But they were. They always were. I have always taught my students not to waver against those completely lost to the Dark Side, to set aside their misgivings and do whatever needed to be done to spare the galaxy any further violence. If I had held to those teachings, Solipsis would be dead, and this would never have happened." He'd not admitted that aloud before. Lingered on it in private, perhaps but speaking it gave life to it: gave it weight.

"My...point being that we cannot change the past. We can only learn from it, and move forward, but I don't think you need me to tell you that. It seems to me that you already have."

Auteme Auteme
 
Auteme calmed as she listened, no longer hiding her sobs, only a hand covering part of her face as the sniffles subsided. It was a genuine surprise to hear him open up about those past chances and choices.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." She knew she couldn't completely blame herself. Still, the failure stung, and the reminders of the pain it'd caused would never stop hurting.

She tried to take a moment to reset, but as soon as she remembered his previous question, she found it hard to speak again.


"Ryv... one- one second," she said, standing and walking back to her desk. After rummaging around in her drawer for a moment, she found some wipes to clean up some of the makeup running down her face, and some tissues to blow her nose.

"The last time I saw Ryv- Life Day, I think. It was nice, but... he mentioned a vision. 'A battle that only I can fight', I think, is what he said." She moved back to the couch. "The kind of fight that... he doesn't come back from."

Her expression became somber. "I... I thought otherwise, and he said maybe not, but- the way he said it seemed sure. Maybe he's just... preparing himself for that eventuality."
 
The exile cracked a small smile as Auteme Auteme went to blow her nose. The interaction was patently human, and moreover not something he'd partaken in in quite some time. The years since the transformation of the Imperium into the Galactic Alliance had been somber at best. It had been a decade of realpolitik, spiritualism, and warfare, the logistics of which had been his sole obsession for most of that time. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen such raw emotion off the field of combat.

He'd thought he might recoil from it, and yet he found it oddly refreshing. A brief glimpse into normalcy, though it would have to be forgotten the moment he left the office. His allies in the Crusade were kept at an arm's length for a reason. Were they to see past the façade, then they might see him as the man he was, and there was little there worth following.

"Yes, that sounds disconcerting," he mumbled, fingers steeping as he sunk back into the sofa. "His obsession with Solipsis was growing last I talked to him, and that was long ago.. I wouldn't be surprised if he was doing something reckless right now, though unfortunately I've no way of knowing. His presence is hidden to me and it has been so for some time now." A sore spot. One better left in the forgotten corners of the mind.

"At times I fear that I failed him," he admitted, a quiet sigh breaking between his words. "I trained him the way I taught myself. A Jedi's life is sacrifice, and throughout my life I took that to be our number one mandate. I instilled that in him, and now he'll drive himself until his limbs fall off." Cedric's gaze drifted down toward the floor. "I taught him how to fight, to think like a general, to lead armies and sway hearts, but I never taught him how to live life as a man. I forged him into the same weapon that the wars with the Sith forged me into, and what is a weapon without war but a purposeless thing?" He asked, half to Auteme, half to himself. "It is a lesson I have only recently come to fully understand. I wish I had sooner, so that I might have taught it to him too, but I fear his path is set and what has been put into motion cannot be undone."
 
Auteme's emotions were mixed at best. She'd seen Ryv push the highest heights of heroism, all the while utterly shattered at the prospect of the future, of his own life, of anything resembling normalcy. How many conversations had they had, about when things would end, and what he would do after? Only there was no end; the only stop to the fighting was to abandon it. For Cedric to take responsibility for such a self-destructive trait... hurt. That was what Ryv had been healing from, even when it was that skill and drive that had taken him so far.

And yet, he had healed. In small bursts he was better. Sometimes he relapsed, but somewhere within there was the recognition that he could be better. He wasn't as static as he appeared.

"When I last spoke to him, he told me about the kids he'd adopted on Denon," she said. "Well- some were his, I think. And it was clear how much he loved them, how much he cared. He's spent the last few years with them. But now... he wants to go back, and he thinks it's going to kill him." She sighed, exhausted and saddened at the very thought.
 

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