Footprints in the Sand

[Joza Perl]

(Continuation of this)

What had been a moderately pleasant conversation quickly dropped off into a mass of confusion.

Joza stared at Alkor’s retreating form, the tension melting from her body as she realized that he’d been just as confused as she was. A misunderstanding. Sort of. And now, her reaction to his gentle gesture had essentially chased him off.

You’re a pretty poor excuse for a Zeltron, huh.

Her stomach dropped again, though it was for a different reason this time around. She figured that he wasn’t the most socially apt just from interacting with him, but it dawned on her that he was probably trying to integrate himself with those around him. Perhaps for the first time. What came natural to her was unfamiliar territory to him.

“Alkor,” She raised her voice a bit, heading towards him in a fast walk. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been that aggressive. We…” She trailed, chewing over her words. At this point, she felt as if she owed him an explanation. At the very least, maybe she could show him that what he had done wasn’t bad. “I want to explain things. Let’s grab another drink, and maybe go for a walk on the beach? It’s quiet there.” She gestured toward the shore, close enough so that they’d still be within sight of the others but far out of earshot. “That is, if your heart isn’t set on leaving.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor's lone path was destined for the shore, and into the darkness of nightfall.

Sunlight died away behind the sea as he watched intently. When he stopped in the sand, he heard Joza call after him and Alkor turned slowly. She hurried toward him and started to speak. Her apology did not make sense. The Corellian knew he had done something wrong, and her response had affirmed that. Alkor had seen the fear in a victim before her ended them. He knew the way they recoiled and fought against him, and his instinct was almost the same when the Zeltron woman reacted to his action. Finish it.

In that moment, I almost killed someone for no reason, with no provocation. I almost acted on instinct and murdered someone I had no reason to hate.

Is killing all that I am good for?

His eyes pulled slowly away from her and hid behind the hood as stars began to twinkle into existence. "I don't have to leave," he responded. "But I don't see any reason to stay." It was an honest answer, and there were layers of reasons for him to hold himself to it. She was better off if Alkor was nowhere near her, and he would be better if he joined some assassin guild and used his training for something productive until it finally killed him. That was how he saw things.

There is no more Dark Jedi legacy. I don't have anything to go back to, and I don't know if I'm cut out for this lifestyle. I may have to tell Isley and Keira. They might be disappointed.

Alkor stopped at that thought.

What does it matter if they're disappointed? I've been disappointing people since I was born.

He glanced down to the ale in his hand still more than half full. He considered a sip, then thought better of it. "I'm willing to hear you out, of course," he answered finally. "Walk with me, Joza," he gestured toward the vast beach that stretched out beyond. "It is a beautiful night."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

A faint exhale slipped through Joza’s lips, and she offered him a small courtesy smile. Before she moved any further, however, the young Zeltron would slip off her flats and place them neatly by one of the shaded tables beneath an umbrella. Turning back towards Alkor, she smoothed out the pleats of her sundress as her gaze swept over him, past him and out towards the ocean. The last vestiges of light had slipped beneath the skyline, giving way to a clear night.

As they began to move along the shore, Joza entered a thoughtful silence. How to explain things? She drew in a deep breath, finding the brine of the seaside air calming. It took a few minutes, but her body began to loosen, relaxing with the familiar sensation of sand between her toes and the waves lapping against the shore.

“I didn’t stop to consider how out of place you might be feeling among…” She waved a hand back towards the vacationing Mandalorians, bouts of raucous laughter carrying through the night air despite the growing distance. “…them. Us.” She wasn’t sure if she could even consider herself a Mandalorian, as her only claim was by blood. And even that was still fuzzy. “It’s nothing to feel ashamed of, of course. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.” She added in quickly, not wanting to try and alienate him further.

Figuring that she owed him some clarification on her own actions, Joza’s brows furrowed as she wondered how to explain things. Even she had trouble fully grasping her reaction. “The reason I pushed you away is…well, it’s a little hard for me to wrap my head around myself. It wasn’t so long ago that I was, ah,” A pause, and she wondered how to explain this as clinically and vaguely as possible. Being enslaved typically didn’t make for a good conversation topic, and frankly it was a painfully embarrassing subject. “Improperly handled for an extended period of time.”

Yeah, that sounded lame. But in order to keep a clear head, Joza had to separate herself from her past as much as possible. At this point, she may as well have been talking about someone else entirely. Shifting her thoughts back to him, she continued her slapdash analysis of the situation. “You are right when you say that kissing makes someone feel good and can help smooth over the right situation. This Hapan noble that you mentioned, it sounded like she was attracted to you. Perhaps a kiss was the sort of thing she was looking for, and wanted to further things in a more private setting? I don’t know.” A pause, and she recalled his earlier words, turning them over in his head. From what he’d told her, it certainly sounded like the noble had been trying to get into his pants, but maybe Joza was reading into things too much.

The scent of smoked meat drifted towards them, and Joza glanced back to see that they’d started a controlled beach fire somewhere behind them. Some type of beast was speared above the flames. “When you kissed me, even I was not expecting my own reaction. It’s been a while since I’ve been touched in that manner, and it reminded me of…ah, well. That, in combination with you holding my hand made me think that you were trying to sway me into bed, to be honest.” Rolling her shoulders in a shrug, Joza glanced over at Alkor. “I don’t think that was your intention, and I’m sorry for pushing you. You may have done something out of place, but you didn’t do anything wrong, Alkor.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The sheets tossed as he swung the door open, and two forms shifted beneath them like wrestling beasts. When the fabric fell away, Alkor saw the naked form of Eversio as he did something strange to a woman, and she appeared to be crying out in pain. Or was it pain? It did not quite feel like pain when the Jen'jidai felt her in the Force. She felt almost euphoric, excited, and content. It was strange. The expression on her face when she saw the blank look on his face was one of surprise and embarrassment, but Eversio only smiled and assured her that everything was fine. "Knock before you enter, Alkor," the Lord Governor chastised him, though it was not unfriendly. "You've embarrassed the poor girl."

"My apologies, Brother." He glanced directly toward the girl, though his expression was one of intense scrutiny. She was not a Dark Jedi, and her presence there constituted a breach of security. It seemed Eversio had interests in her, so he would defer, but his surface emotion warned the other man of Alkor's thoughts.
"She is my guest," the other Corellian explained. "Please treat her as such."

"Of course." Alkor turned and shut the door behind him.

"Oh, Alkor?" Eversio called.

"Yes?" Violet eyes glanced back through the crack in the door as he locked with the Lord Governor's gaze.

"Would you like to try her?" The girl shot up in horror and her mouth dropped open, but Eversio placed a hand on her cheek and gazed deeply into her eyes. Alkor sensed that she was already prey to his whimsical notions of self-indulgence, and that the other man did not even have to employ the Force to convince her. "She's a very cooperative one. You could-"

"Please." Alkor turned his gaze away and shut the door. "Do not involve me in your vulgar indulgences."

Eversio laughed, pushed the girl back down on the bed, and Alkor heard the screams begin anew.

-----------------------------​

​

Joza said the words "into bed" and Alkor immediately understood his error. His eyes ripped away from her and he recalled an encounter with Eversio and a flavorful woman that related the information perfectly. His mind wrapped around the concept that the Hapan woman may have been attracted to him, and he tried to understand what it entailed. For him, that had only ever been part of the mission. Was it so easy to play with someone's emotions? Was it that simple to garner the affections of another creature and manipulate them? Eversio had been good at it- painfully so. Had he instructed Alkor in those arts for the same purpose?

Alkor grit his teeth. How crude. "I would never try to do that," he said honestly. His gaze moved toward the Zeltron woman and he met her gaze with his own impassive stare. "I lack the desires necessary to engage in such indulgent acts." He faltered momentarily at the admission, suddenly aware of how broken it made him sound. He bit into his lip and his left hand twitched visibly. "I was taught to compartmentalize them and block them away. The only emotions I have are impulse driven, in combat situations."

He sucked in a breath, then glanced back up at her. "They revolve entirely around death, and the act of murder. I only find excitement in bloodshed, but there is no enjoyment. It is an empty indulgence, and it leaves me wondering. What would my life have been like..."

Both eyes closed as he folded his pride delicately away and tried to help Joza understand. "...if I had not killed those people on Corellia, and if I had never been exiled. If I had never met C'thulu Plaga, and they had never trained me to use the Force. What would my life be like if my mother had not been a drug addict, and I had some semblance of a childhood. If I had never wandered the streets as a thief and eventually turned from cutting purses to cutting throats." He seemed oddly at peace with everything he was saying.

"But perhaps, it would have been better if none of that had happened at all." He sighed. "I am resigned to the belief that things cannot be changed, nor would they necessarily be better if they could."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza’s gaze focused on Alkor as her own words died down, taking in his reaction to them. She noted the gritted teeth and the biting of his lip, two acts that contrasted with the blank stare he’d given her. It was as if he was having difficulty recounting his past and the actions revolving around it, but was strangely accepting of it at the same time. It sounded odd to her at first—he lacked desire as a whole? Such a thing was unheard of among her kind, but Joza had learned that the rest of the galaxy was not like Zeltros.

For a while, she was quiet, simply soaking in his words. She hadn’t expected the Dark Jedi to reveal as much about himself as he did—and perhaps he didn’t fully realize it?—but she was interested in why he acted the way he did. His fondness of bloodshed, the name C’thulu Plaga and his drug addict mother were all unexpected, but they were pieces in a puzzle that was slowly coming together.

“You have no sexual desire then, for the flesh of men or women?” She repeated slowly for clarification, trying to wonder what life would have been like if she too never experienced something that played such a large role in her life. Just now realizing that, her lips thinned into a more hardened expression. She’d probably be a decent Jedi, or dead. As much as she wouldn’t admit it, sex appeal had gotten the Zeltron out of a handful of sticky situations. Her face softened, consciously, and she shook her head. “And you’ve been conditioned to suppress any biological urges you may have, and to lust only after murder? Indulgences are no good if they’re empty…” It sounded more as if she were speaking to herself, voice fading against the gentle crash of the waves against the shore.

She stopped, digging her feet into the sand. Her toenails had been painted a deep, shimmering red, and looked like little rubies glinting against the sand. Joza stared at them for a moment, wiggling her toes as she enjoyed both the sensation of the sand beneath her feet and watching the little gems disappear and then reappear again. Kneeling down for a moment, she retrieved a smooth oval stone resting in the sand, and sent it towards the waves with a practiced flick of her wrist. The rock hit the water, sinking unceremoniously beneath the surf.

“You’re right, you can’t change what happened in the past, and unfortunately yours seems to have been particularly rough. It’s good to accept that, and it’s something I wish I was able to do. But don’t resign yourself to being unable to change how you act, what you do, and who you are.” She’d been focused on the water as she spoke, but now she half-turned to face Alkor. “I know that things like friendship and familial bonds seem strange and uncomfortable right now, but give it time. If you try to force it, you’ll become frustrated. Let things go at their own pace, and once day you might realize that they don’t seem so unfamiliar anymore.”

Hopefully.

Turning to face him fully, Joza arched a brow. “Earlier you told me that you joined the Mandalorians to see what it was like to have a family, right? Being family, any family isn’t easy. But there’s a reason why people stick together so tightly.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor watched the moon rise slowly behind gray clouds as Joza spoke. His gaze wavered only a bit as her words pricked at his surface thoughts, breaking through the fragile tapestry of doubt that had shrouded him. "Right." Her words did not assuage his uncertainty, though they offered insight into the way others dealt with problems and handled social interaction. It was a fascinating look into the culture he never quite assimilated with, if a wholly detached one. "I suppose I can appreciate that sentiment."

The reality was, Alkor could not and most likely would not find appreciation in that particular sentiment. Not for a long time, at least. At the moment, he was wholly focused on simple understanding. Anything beyond that was categorically beyond his ability as well. With both arms now folded across his midsection, Alkor broke away from his view of the celestial bodies and considered the Zeltron. "I'm more interested in an academic manner, truth be told," he confessed. "Trying to mesh with a sociocultural construct might shatter what little resolve I already have to just comprehend it."

His hood cast shadows over his eyes as they moved away from her once more. "The reality is that I don't feel accepted. I don't feel anything. That's not going to change." He had a base level understanding of how it felt to belong- at least, he understood what constituted a sense of belonging. He took a step and his body angled away from her, though he did not present his back. He understood the subtle difference between apprehensive and guarded, and he did not want to come off hostile.

Alkor slowly let his head dip and sighed. "There is no point in lingering over what could have been, or what should have been," he explained, "only preparations for things to come, expected or otherwise. Victory lies in preparation. I simply seek to better understand my allies and my enemies." He told himself the same thing. That made more sense than trying to belong, didn't it?

Why had he told this woman about his inadequacies? Why had he told her that he wanted to experience some semblance of a normal life? These were things Alkor disliked admitting even to himself. The consummate killer in him growled in disgust at the meek boy who cowered, somewhere on a flight leaving Corellia. Alkor internally chastised himself for the indiscretion. She had offered him kindness, she had been close with Nikias, and yet none of that should have been enough to seep past his guard.

If Joza were an assassin, Alkor would have been dead. He could not fathom a way to voice his silent self-disapproval.

"House Verd," he murmured finally, "is a possibility. A chance at something different. A warrior with no cause inevitably turns to seeking a perfect death." He rolled his shoulders and closed his eyes, but refused to meet Joza's gaze again. "I have not lived life for myself, or for anything other than someone else since I was a child. I do not fear death," he said bitterly, "but I am not ready to give myself over to it yet. I want to experience true freedom just one time. I want to choose my path, and I want to walk it to its end."

He spat in the sand. The saliva congealed and welled up, pregnant with the grainy substance. "Then I can feel accomplished enough to find contentment in death."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza remained silent, the gentle roll of the ocean waves buffing against the shore serving as a soundtrack to their conversation. It wasn’t often that Joza met someone who seemed as out of touch as Alkor—and he seemed at odds with himself. He insisted that things couldn’t change, yet here he was trying to make a difference. A man being pulled in two directions at once. There was something in him that wanted not only to live, but to understand. It was a concept that she initially had trouble wrapping her head around, being such a natural social creature.

She gave up trying to convince him of anything. It wouldn’t be worth it—at least, not right now. Pushing people to accept new things was often met with frustrations on both sides.

"The reality is that I don't feel accepted. I don't feel anything. That's not going to change."​

​

“I can’t tell if you’re a realist, or just being hard on yourself.” She mused faintly, idly running a hand through her hair and brushing it over one shoulder. Her lips pursed into a brief frown. Static. Ugh. Ocean breezes and salt water often gave women thicker, wavy hair, but for Joza it only seemed to muss up her red locks even more. “All I ever wanted when I was a child was to leave home. And when I finally did, I was thrown into a world of chaos and confusion.” Joza’s Force sensitivity was discovered at a fairly young age, but her mother had prohibited her from training until she’d left on her own as a teenager. “I was terrified. I thought that I had made a horrible mistake, and that I was going to die. Growing up around constant pheromones, I lacked the comfort that I usually had. Nothing was familiar, everything seemed so…alien.”

Removing her cardigan, Joza draped the covering neatly against her arm. Rolling her shoulders, she sighed as the cool breeze hit the bare skin of her back. The dress dipped low, stopping mid-spine on her. The tail end of a smattering of scars peeked from behind the fabric of her dress, as could a few black ink marks that formed a phoenix tattoo against her rosy skin. She had gotten it initially to cover battle scars, finding them unsightly—but the ink was marred in some places now. She could never quite wear scars as badges of pride, not when so many of them made her feel ashamed. “After enough time passed, things didn’t seem so strange anymore. I assimilated, in a way.” Of course, that had kicked up a new host of problems.

Her eyes tracked over to where Alkor had spat, and she arched a brow. “If you want to resign yourself to believing that things will never change, then so be it.” She tilted her head back slightly, trying to catch his eyes with her own. “But it sounds like things will have to change if you want to walk a path of your own.” Her words were not unkind, but there was some weight to her voice. “I’m not saying that you have to force anything, but just…keep an open mind.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Zef Halo]

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Restroom of a Cantina in a Shadowport, Undisclosed Location.
Mood: I am too old for this poodoo.

"Sh-she did what again ?"

"'Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.'" The Mandalorian over the other end of the line replied.

"You're kiddin', right ? This must be some kind of sick joke that [member="Isley Verd"] has orchestrated."

"No jokes, Zef, Keira said that and they went on and repeated it to each other."

The line was paused for a moment for Zef to rub his eyes and try to shake this disbelief. It was all real.

"Come on, I've only had one glass of Corellian whiskey, you can't fool me."

"I. Am. Not. Joking." The man replied.

Holy kark.

"Oh dear holy kark, please, please wake me up." Zef repeated to himself.

"I said I am not-"

"I UNDERSTOOD. Patch me to Dubrillion. The resort. I want all the damn speakers there freaking turned on maximum. All the music stopped. All the chatter damn stopped. I wanna be heard all over the planet. NOW."

"But-"

"JUST DO IT!" Zef ordered in the words of the legendary Shia LaFett.

"Alright, alright. Patching you through." The man said conceding. "You're good to go."

"Hello, hello. Test. Test." Zef tapped on his comlink and cleared his throat. "Keira. Uhm, [member="Keira Ticon"]. Do you hear me well ?"

...

"DID YOU JUST KARKING GO AND MARRY MY DAUGHTER TO A STRANGER?!?!"

 

[Joza Perl]

Silence fell between the pair, only to be broken by the violently resonating voice of Zef.

Joza jumped, startled by the booming voice of her father. She didn’t recognize it as such right away, but after twisting her head around to see if she could find the source of the noise, she realized who it was. How was he doing that? Certainly the speakers at the resort couldn’t reach this far, much less this loud. But there were a few things about Zef that still surprised her.

After several more moments, his words began to sink in. Keira…marry…stranger? His daughter? Her? Got married to a stranger? What? Joza looked over to Alkor slowly, eyes wide as if she were a Caprine caught in headlights. Keira Ticon…marry his daughter…to a stranger. Gradually, the realization began to seep into her eyes, manifesting as a widening…fear? Disbelief? It was hard to pin down one emotion.

“M-MARRIED?!” The Zeltron sputtered like a dying putt-putt. Marriage was never really something she saw herself doing. Neither of her parents had been married, so why should she resign herself to what she saw as a limiting, archaic practice? “We’re…Keira married us. I…I can’t get married!” The surface calm she’d had shattered in an instant as she looked to Alkor frantically for support. “You don’t want this, right? We barely know eachother, and I haven’t even slept with you! We can get divorced, right? Is that a thing people do?” It was clear that her idea of marriage was very loose, much less Mandalorian marriage.

[member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Zef Halo"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

When he heard Zef screaming about something, Alkor recalled the owner of the voice and thought it seemed strange. Marriage? Strangers? Keira? ...Keira? Wait...

"I..." he stopped, stared, and the blankness of his face when composure was lost made him seem more human than he had ever been. The boyish confusion and bright, azure blue of his eyes blinked with a zest that they hadn't since the day he left Corellia. The same fear, uncertainty, and confusion swept through him as he matched the gaze of his new- wife? WIFE? "...what?"

Not even a week as a Mandalorian, and he had fallen prey to some horrendous aspect of their culture? This was not the sort of initiation he had imagined when Keira told him to repeat those words. He did not break his gaze from the woman, though the normal blush a man might have when embarrassed did not occur on his features. "I think," he said softly, "you may have gotten the wrong idea when I said that I don't understand sociocultural norms, Joza." He raised both hands and gestured toward himself. "I have never been married. I have never even been to a wedding. I have no idea if "divorce" is a thing people do."

She seemed more flustered than he, but the reality was that they were both in absolute shock at the revelation. "It doesn't matter what I want," he said after a brief pause. He finally tore his gaze away from her and pulled a hair out of his eyes. "Nor am I sure what it is that I would want, if I did. But I would not want to inflict myself on you, no more than you want me. We should go find a way for you to get out of this... situation."

As always, Alkor was not so much hurt by her words as he was understanding. Who would want to be joined in something like that with an emotionless killer? He certainly had nothing to offer her, especially not happiness. There was no bright light at the end of that tunnel.

More than anything, Alkor found it to be an almost cruel joke to play on someone who had no understanding thereof. And how horrible it must have been for Joza, who seemed to be absolutely appalled with the prospect of her nuptial partner. He felt bad for her.

"I'm sorry about this," he muttered. He did not face her. "It is unfair to you."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

This had to be a mistake. Some kind of joke, or prank. Surely what Keira did wasn’t legally binding, right? Didn’t paperwork have to be involved? Consent? Then again, Joza knew embarrassingly little about Mandalorian culture. Perhaps this was just how things were done. Inhaling sharply, she held it for a few seconds before letting out a slow breath. They’d get…whatever this was annulled, she was sure. Her father could help.

It was then after reaching some semblance of calm that she listened to what Alkor was saying. It was obvious that he was just as confused as she was, but there was something that rubbed her wrong about the way he was speaking. The Corellian was focused on her and her discomfort rather that voicing his own perceived displeasure.

“It’s unfair to you too, Alkor.”

What concerned her wasn’t the sort of person she was allegedly married to—she’d only met him today!—but the fact that they had no say in the matter. She assumed that he’d be as equally disgruntled with being forced into something so heavily regarded in Mando culture as marriage with a woman he didn’t know.

Joza ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face as she shook her head in defeat. “To be honest, marriage isn’t really a big part of Zeltron culture either. But from what I understand, it’s meant to be between two people who sincerely love and are fully committed to each other.” She held her hands out, palms up as if they were balanced scales—or perhaps the beginning of a shrug. “I don’t think you’d want to be attached or obligated to someone you don’t know or care for.” Though in certain cultures, arraigned marriages were the norm—it was common for husband and wife to see each other for the first time only on their wedding day.

It was strange, she realized, how he didn’t seem to have concern for himself in this situation. Did he really think that lowly of himself, or was she just misreading him?

With another sigh, she glanced over at Alkor—this time sizing him up. “If we’re stuck in this, at least you’re cute.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"My oldest memories are of my mother," he said quietly. When he tried, he could almost recall the color of her hair, or the way her malnourished arms swathed and cradled him with love she tried so hard to afford something other than the spice she sold her very soul for. He remembered something of the emotion that radiated from around her, something he only felt several times beyond that. Once, in the presence of Eversio and the woman he took for his wife- then again, when Zechar spoke of his deceased wife. Alkor firmly believed that the emotion in question was 'love,' or some conceptualization thereof, but the absence of it from so many others made him prescribe to the doctrine that it was something rare, not often achieved. "I remember how frail she was, and that when she held me her entire body trembled."

He had been a child, then, no more than a babe. The few times that the woman had given him that much attention were just after birth, when she was still unable to fulfill her addictive desires. That was when he had some sort of connection with her, however brief. It had died not soon thereafter. She did the absolute minimum necessary to sustain his life, and he grew apart from the woman who had given him birth. That fleeting love was his brief, solitary experience with love. He despised it for that. It reminded him of something he could never have.

"I remember looking into her glassy eyes when I was old enough to realize that there was something wrong." His fists tightened and relaxed as he spoke. "And I remember there never being a father. Some of the men who frequented Coronet told me that he had been a spacer, some rogue with a devilish desire to wander the galaxy and claim some unheard of fortune. Others told me he was a man taken with the urge to conquer every woman he came across, and my mother was a victim to her drug use. An easy, overly willing target. I won't ever know the truth of that."

He glanced in her direction with a soft gaze, unsuited for the likes of Alkor Centaris, the Demon of Corellia. "In my memories, there was no marriage," he explained, "and perhaps, the very idea of marriage has never crossed my mind as a result. I have seen those who subjected themselves to the ceremony of marriage, but I must admit, the idea never crossed my mind as something that would happen to me." He paused, briefly. "I have never... felt that sort of connection with another being. Perhaps that in itself may explain why the idea that we are... somehow linked by the Force... gutted me the way it did."

"She died, I was told." He said it so suddenly, as if it had just occurred to him after many years. "Sometime after my exile, she was found dead, passed peacefully in her sleep. As someone who has seen the end of many lives in many horrific ways, I find odd peace in the fact that she went quietly, and without pain." He paused for a long moment. It almost felt as though he were about to have some sort of actual reaction. His face did not change at all.

"I knew, sometime between the moment I was convicted and the time I was shuttled away from Corellia," he spoke almost silently now. "I knew that I would not see her again before the end. I accepted that, and I made my peace with it. I made peace with so many things that it became my way of life. I was at peace when I ended life, and when it ended around me." His hollow eyes moved up to Joza, and he offered her a meaningful smile, though it stood at immense contrast with his gaze. "Even this, I can say that I am at peace with."

It was when she said he was cute that his head tilted slightly. He turned to face her entirely, their bodies inches apart. He took a step closer, held up a hand and touched her face. "What does it mean," he asked, "to think someone is 'cute?' What does it mean to feel something for someone?" he held her gently, as though she might break if he moved at all. "I have wondered these things, at times." He stroked her face longingly, but not in the way a lover might. It was as though something wholly unhuman was seeking to understand humanity. "I have wondered at the things people around me say. I have wondered what it would have been like to grow up a person, and not a tool."

He ran his hands up through her hair, then ruffled it in a way he had seen a father do to his child, once. It felt odd. Alkor's gaze hardened a bit as he struggled to see the point in any of it. "But when I hear your desperation, Joza, and the confusion, and I feel the dire sentiments radiating off of you- I think what little humanity that remains in me wants to help you. And for that, I thank you."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza fell silent, giving Alkor the space he needed to let his thoughts out. His words weren’t the only part to this story—the shifting expressions, the way his fists clenched and unclenched—those all helped to paint a picture of how this was effecting him. It was fascinating on one level, and distressing on another. Here was a man with a limited grasp of sociocultural norms, something that came so naturally to her, trying so hard to make sense of everything. It was now, she realized, how new and confusing everything must seem to Alkor.

His mother had been an addict. That much was clear, a single parent who was blessed with the burden of child. Joza’s beginnings were similar—an unplanned pregnancy, no father in the picture. But her mother was a kind and gentle woman. Yulenka Perl couldn’t always make ends meet, but she loved her daughter dearly. In that regard, Joza was lucky…Her childhood was not without bumps and scrapes, but it was a childhood. Something Alkor had been robbed of.

What she struggled to understand was how quickly he’d made peace over something like this. Perhaps it was the look he’d given her, a blank stare and an earnest smile that conflicted with each other. It dawned on her that he didn’t quite grasp the concept of marriage, but then he’d moved closer and she watched him with thinly veiled caution. It was not as if she thought he would harm her, but a reflex. The touch of his hand against her face was warm, the skin of her cheek cool from the ocean breeze and arrival of nightfall. It tingled, but only because the contact was gentle and something she’d silently sought for some time.

Something inside of her stiffened, preparing for the other shoe to drop—a tender caress was not a lone action, often followed by something rougher or sharper. She’d taught her mind to brace itself, but also to lie still. It was a habit, a defense mechanism from when she’d been cast into chains and collars.

To her, the contact cemented that Alkor was out of his comfort zone. Instead of turning away and hiding from this strange new world, he sought to confront it. He needed answers. The confused little boy from Corellia with the soft blue gaze deserved answers. But she wasn’t sure what to tell him.

When he ran his hands through her hair, her face scrunched up in brief yet comical irritation. She thought about swatting him away, but held herself back seeing as how the gesture could seem less playful and more aggressive to him. “When I say that you’re cute, I mean that you’re easy on the eyes. Nice to look at.” Her hands were busy with rearranging her hair, seemingly on auto-pilot. “To feel something for someone…” Her face dropped into a thoughtful look, as did her hands from her head. Zeltrons were touted for being experts at love, but what they did was lust. Joza was beginning to think that lust wasn’t just physical. “…it’s like, I don’t exactly know how to put it into words. Love is like…when you care for someone so much that you’d do anything to see that they’re happy. You want to protect them and care for them, even die for them.”

Joza didn’t believe her own words. She was parroting something she’d either read in a book or seen in a holofilm in an effort to give him what she thought would pass as a decent answer. Maybe some of it was true, but love to her was a violent emotion. It tore lives apart, clouded minds and was selfish. It took precedence over everything and incited obsessions. It was exciting, exhilarating and horribly painful.

When he thanked her, she bit her lower lip. It was odd, but made her feel a bit warmer. There was something vaguely alluring about Alkor Centaris, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Was it how genuine and raw he was about trying to integrate? She didn’t know, but Joza couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him. Her husband. Husband.

“I’ll help you,” Reaching for his hand, she would twine her fingers with his, thumb brushing gently upon the surface of his hand. “I’ll help you navigate this new life, Alkor. Maybe not as your wife, but as a friend.” She tilted her head to the side, trying to get a read on what he was feeling. “I realize now how strange this must all seem to you. You don’t have to be a tool anymore, but you have to want it.” She paused, a light of realization in her eyes. “You said you were gutted…is this the first time you’ve developed a Force bond with someone?”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Love," he uttered the word without even the vaguest of recognition. The concept was so foreign that his face scrunched up in consideration of it. That small sensation he'd once felt back before he had ever developed a personality or semblance of self was his only lead, and it gave him no answers. "I'm not sure that's what it is," he said quietly after she'd spoken her words. "I felt nothing like that for the Jen'jidai. Only to protect them, and to preserve the things which they felt validated them. That was duty, not love." What had his feelings been, back in those times? Had they ever existed, or had all he known amounted to no more than what he had been told? Other Dark Jedi Masters were allowed to develop their own views on things, or feelings that he had even chanced to glean bits and pieces of when he bled and broke to ensure their continued safety. Alkor was only begrudgingly afforded the rank when he proved his usefulness as a killer, and he only ever got better at the loneliest of arts.

"I'm not sure if love is quite so simple enough to describe in one or two actions," he postulated as he searched her eyes for some sort of mutual confusion. Was she as lost as he was, or was this something he would find himself alone in just like everything else? "If it were so easily categorized, I might have stumbled onto an understanding of it by now." Alkor let his hand stop on her shoulder. "I can feel the warmth of our flesh touching, but it incites nothing in me. I have seen other men brought to their knees by this sort of closeness, driven to do unthinkable things, pushed beyond perceived limitations," he sounded almost envious at that, yet also abundantly disdainful.

"A man should never look outside himself for power," he said quietly. "That is what I know. If they find strength in that, then that strength is fleeting and will fail them."

He let out a ragged sigh. "Yet I cannot help but to think, is that empty strength greater than the meaning found in those fleeting feelings? What is it that those men found that I will never see?" He shut his eyes. They are dead. You alone survive. That is the measure of their strength. The limit of what they found in those passions.

But why did they seem so content in that finality? He pondered that for a moment before Joza mentioned a Force Bond. Bond? "A what?" he asked. He heard of them, a connection between two beings innate in the Force. A shared sentience, something that began and ended as a chain. "No, it's not like that," he insisted. "What I saw- they're called "Shatterpoints." Alkor struggled to help the woman understand, but found that nothing he said could quite convey his meaning.

"Where reality shifts. Fault lines in the Force. A moment where a single action can alter the course of history, or where something seemingly indestructible can fall to pieces." He gulped down. "You... I've never looked for a Shatterpoint that revolved around myself. The very idea is harrowing. Yet... it was there. When we touched, the most unimaginable of weaknesses..."

Alkor shuddered violently. "Something that could cause my very existence to falter. That is what I saw."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

“I’ve heard of Shatterpoint.” She sucked in a breath, unsure of how to take the information he was giving her. She’d only ever heard of it, unknowing of the destructive power that had materialized between them. An unimaginable weakness. Around him? Me? Us? Her brow scrunched in confusion.

“What exactly would cause your existence to falter, Alkor? If one of us was hurt? Dead?” She imagined it was sort of an explosion or earthquake.

“Look,” She sighed, running her hands through her hair and messing it up a bit. “I’m not sure what this means, but it sounds to me like there might be an emotional tie to it. Not the fault line itself, but the trigger. I could be wrong.” I often am.

“Whatever it is, it sounds…scary. Not like a Force bond at all. Though…those can be scary too.” Murmuring to herself, she turned her gaze out toward the ocean. The light had gone, sun dipping below the horizon making it hard to see the murky water through the darkness. “Attachments can be scary. They can be wonderful, they can get you high on euphoria to the point where you feel like you can take on the galaxy. But that gives the other person so much…power…over…you.” Her voice faded into the night with the sudden realization.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"I..." he stopped for a moment as he looked for a proper answer, but could not find one to offer. "...I do not know, Joza." Alkor pursed his lips and looked at her hand, the source of his current dilemma and perhaps the warmest touch he had felt in many years. "With things like this, events can be in flux. I innately expect it to be catastrophic, and so, I am wary by nature."

His gaze moved up her arm to her face. Alkor's eyes rested on her own, now. "There are other things that it could mean, such as abrupt change or a massive shift in something relative to the Shatterpoint." He knew that his words were vague at best, but he had little better to offer in their stead. "I feel as though it could mean something has been set in motion as a result of our... current predicament, but gods only know what."

He pulled his hands to his chest and held them there, wondering at their true purpose. Was he only ever intended to kill, or might his hands one day protect and give life to others? Only time could answer his most intimate of questions.

"Are you... alright?" he asked her as she went quiet. Judging by the words she had offered him, Alkor frowned and shook his head. "I ca assure you, I have never wanted and will never have power over another, unless it is the power to end their life. And you have no need to fear that from me."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Relationship were tricky enough without the promise of a vague yet catastrophic destruction if one of them so much as breathed wrong. At least, that’s what she was getting from this.

“I honestly have no idea what to say to that, Alkor.” Her shoulders rose, and fell, but she didn’t seem nearly as troubled by it as he was. Largely due to her lack of understanding, and she supposed she should let him worry about it until she could work up the energy to try and figure out how and what was going on.

Her eyes slid to the side, noting his closed off posture as his hands came to rest near his chest. But then he asked.

“No, it’s…I don’t know. I’m alright.” Joza gave him a soft smile, meant to reassure, but even she didn’t quite believe herself. “It’s not something like that. You don’t assert power over someone, it just happens. They give you power over them. It’s like…” A pause, as she was reminded of the fact that she wasn’t dealing with a typical person who at least had a base understanding of love and relationships. “Have you ever been so attached to something that you let it influence what you did? How you acted?”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Joza asked if he had ever been attached to something, and Alkor found himself uncertain. There were things he had been passionate for, once. Never had it been his own passion, but the desires ingrained through training and conditioning to drive him in an indicated direction. Had he been attached to them? Utterly dependent, more like. He had been made to care as much as he had, and even that came to question. Alkor had always had his own desires, ever since he could remember. They just all got swallowed up by something else until they drowned beneath those things and became indistinguishable.

The principle of someone giving him power was almost an impossible scenario in the mind of Alkor Centaris. Others had only ever taken from him, and he rejected the idea of ever taking anything from anyone the way he had been robbed.

What she described did sound vaguely familiar, though, albeit without consent. "I may not fully understand, but I suppose I have a vague notion of what you describe. "

His face scrunched up as though he were attempting to think, and rather hard at that. "If it will assuage your worry, I lack the personality many other men have," he spoke softly, "so I doubt you are in danger of ever being afflicted with that level of attachment to me."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

With the way he spoke, Joza had to laugh. Chuckle, actually—lightly. Not at him, but at the situation as a whole. Here they were, just having formally met for the first time…and married. Getting to know eachother, finding out that her new husband thought more like a droid than a human. He was like some sort of AI trying to grasp the finer points of human emotion, and it was just so strange and alien that she found it funny. So many things she thought she’d see in the Galaxy, and Alkor Centaris was not one of them. Joza didn’t know what to do with him, but she also couldn’t bring herself to walk away from him.

He was trying, she realized. Trying to navigate this strange new world of feelings and relationships that he’d only seen from the outside. He could have easily just been done with it and walked away, but he was still here.

“It’s not that simple,” Her chuckled died down, and she shook her head while trying to think of how to explain it. “You can’t control it. No one can. It just…happens. You realize one day that after a while, you’ve grown so accustomed to someone. Sometimes you don’t realize it until they’re gone, but…” She bit her lip, sounding unsure of even her own words. “It just sneaks up on you. You can’t help yourself, and you want to give someone the galaxy.” She shook her head again, this time chortling a little sadly. “This all must sound pretty pathetic, huh?”

Her eyes searched the ocean, unable to find anything to focus on in the sheer darkness aside from the little crests of light reflected by the moon onto the waves. How perfectly romantic.

“What I’m saying is, being attracted to someone—platonically or romantically—isn’t really a choice. Like that shatterpoint you described, it just happens.” Her shoulders rose and feel in a shrug, green eyes turning to appraised him once more. “If that made any sense. I’m not sure that it did.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"]