Gravity

[Darron Wraith]

Lwhekk​

​

Mount Skar’lak​

Ffts crawled around the black stones, anxiously searching for any local fauna that grew in the rich soil at the base of the volcano. Civil war was on the minds of the Imperium these days, and strangely enough the man was familiar with the politics. More disconcerting was the fact that he had landed in the system and a few Ssi-ruuk were familiar with him. Hushed whispers had followed him after meeting these individuals, but they referred to him by the name he didn’t fully understand. Instead of calling him by Death’s Hand, they had spoken the other name that his visions had used. Reverence been the only emotion he could detect, and the admiration in their eyes meant that they knew him for something than other than he knew. Regardless, he had finally sought passage for privacy from the galaxy. Too much was going on, and his mind and spirit were too clouded to accurately get a handle on what was going on in his splintered mind. This wasn’t a time for holonet searches, he had done enough of those and been met with “restricted access” screens.

No, if he was going to discover his true identity it would be in solitude.

“You’ve got to just embrace the living Force and quit shielding yourself from it.” The voice wasn’t ghostly or ethereal in any sense of the word. Instead, it sounded as real as the soft eruptions happening miles above him. Rolf Sergeo’s voice pierced his senses just as vividly as the vibrations rattled his bones at the base of the mountain. “I have every intention of it, that’s why I came this far out.” Onyx locks were slowly fading to their natural blonde, and had grown past the man’s shoulders over the last few months. The wind carried them across his broad, armored chest as he looked up at the Jedi Master who was only a creation of his mind. “Then actually do it, and quit staring off in the distance. Your memories aren’t just going to appear if you keep trying to run from everything.” A loud sigh escaped the Jedi’s lips as he threw his hands up, a gesture the former assassin was sure he did frequently when they had known each other. Silence met the apparition’s words, there was nothing to reply to with that.

Even the beings in my head know better than I do.

“Stop thinking of what happened, and the negative emotions you are feeling. Whatever damage was done to your mind won’t be undone by reflecting on that time. You’ve got to move past it, and focus on who you were before. Those memories are stronger than what was done, focus on them and it will all make sense.” A pause broke up the speech, almost as if they shell of a man he knew had to parse his words carefully. “I mean, I’m here talking to you. I knew you before this madness happened, just try and focus on me.”

It was an idea. So he did.

His eyes closed, those deep pits of cerulean that were so full of pain. His broad chin fell almost to his chest as he relaxed, and powerful shoulders slumped. Darron’s breathing slowed, and his heart rate followed along. Teachings from his past lingered, that’s why he felt the urge to completely empty his mind. Wraith resisted, instead he focused on Rolf Sergeo. Everything about the man flooded his thoughts, from his voice to the way he spelled his name. Ghosts of memories started to swim around his mind, from times that he couldn’t fully comprehend.

Teferi Efreet’s voice flooded his ears, and he suddenly saw images that didn’t make sense. For a moment he was a child at the Jedi Temple training alongside a boy with hair similar to Rolf’s, and then he was a teenager walking with an older boy who had to be Rolf. Battles he didn’t understand flashed across his mind’s eye, and adrenaline surged through his veins. Their lightsabers moved as one across many battlefields. None of it made sense to him, but he could clearly tell they had been Jedi together, and the very best of friends. Images were hazy in his mind, but the emotion was what touched him and stuck with him above everything else he saw.

Brotherly love.

Too bad the man who didn’t know who he was wasn’t alone, and his thoughts wouldn’t be for long either.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Darron Wraith"]

A little scene ran through Jorus Merrill's head as he arced the D'Lessio down into the grav well. Sailed it, rather, playing momentum against gravity as precisely as skinning blumfruit with a razor. The memory didn't war for his attention, just overlaid itself on today's experience. It had been the first time he'd tried to find someone across interstellar distances by instinctive astrogation alone. The first successful time, anyway, and it had been the Gypsymoth, not the D'Lessio, and he'd had Alna there and Beyyr instead of his daughter. No, Mara had been there, but she'd been young, maybe five or six, rather than the scarred young Jedi Knight at the D'Lessio's copilot controls. She'd never recovered from the injuries she'd sustained on Lameredd, not entirely. Her childhood playmates were brash young Masters now, and she...

Well, she was what she chose to be, and if running copilot in the Unknown Regions could help her in any way, he owed her that much and far, far more.

Mara trimmed the ailerons expertly. He hadn't trained her in instinctive navigation so much as given her the right opportunities to develop that talent. That was how he'd learned; he hadn't been taught his greatest skill, not formally. Not even by the Duinuogwuin. The star dragons' mode of teaching was experiential in the purest sense. That didn't work for some. For the Merrills, it worked spectacularly.

The D'Lessio had a far better aerodynamic profile than the Gypsymoth, but it still wasn't optimized for hypersonic reentry. Shields helped reduce friction and keep the ship from trailing smoke or needing ablative armor. They also adjusted the ship's handling in this kind of circumstance, in subtle ways. Without a word, Jorus switched helm control to Mara, and watched out of the corner of his eye as she took a deep breath and compensated. Down on the surface, he knew, you could hear the sonic barrier roar for a hundred klicks. He trained a camera aft and watched their wake disturb the jungle far below. Mara was handling the ship well. He closed his eyes.

"This is the right place."

 

[Darron Wraith]

His heart was a star, and her lips made it a supernova.

Gone were the images of Rolf, instead he was alone with a woman he didn’t recognize or know. Battles had faded, and his armor had been replaced with tangled flesh. Her ivory legs contrasted with his own sun-kissed torso, her amber hair intertwined with his growing tawny locks. Warmth emanated from her, even more than the fire that was burning near the campsite. Fatigue and pleasure were written all over her face, almost as if it had been etched in stone. This moment, whatever it was, was one he couldn’t forget. Cerulean eyes locked with jade, and he could feel all of her love. Fingernails pulled into his skin, almost begging him for a repeat of what he could already assumed had happened. Clothes were strewn about, and the bags nearby told him this was a mission, and the extra lightsaber told him she was a Jedi. “Who are you?” Trepidation lined his words, he was more afraid to end the moment than he wanted to admit. Happiness like this was rare.

Then it was gone, and he was no longer in her arms.

“Breathe that pain in, Darron, and let it out.” Rolf had his hands on his shoulder, and so did another man that he had recognized. Indescribable pain wracked him, he couldn’t fathom why this pyre before him wounded him so. “What’s happened?” His words came out wounded, but it wasn’t his body that hurt him. Wraith’s heart was breaking, and his shoulders became more weighted as grief threatened to take him. “Maria, she took her life brother. You know this.” This time it was Je’gan that was facing him, both of his strong hands on his shoulders. His proud shoulders, covered by his robes slumped even further. Tears started to fall, and he could feel his own breathing becoming more and more clipped with each breath. “Let it out, you’ve got to move past this for your son.”

“I have a son?”

Now he was physically wounded, the scene around him no longer a funeral. Blood freely flowed from his forehead, and his blonde locks were clinging to his forehead. Sweat mixed with the crimson liquid, burning the wounds and keeping him from losing consciousness. Wreckage was everywhere, a great battle had happened where he was lying. Wraith’s prosthetic was ruined, and a dime-size hole was near his heart, obstructing his breathing. Every attempt to pick himself up only further aggravated his injuries, his sense of duty and honor the only thing making him try such a thing. Scanning the hangar, he saw a sign that finally told him where he was at.

“Roche?”

A young woman, her hair the same color as his own escorted the other combatant out. Through the Force he could feel her regret, and the pain that it was causing her to leave him. “Did I ask her to not take me? Why would I do that?” A strange comfort was falling over him, as if he felt like he was doing the right thing by releasing himself of all of his burdens. “Darron, snap out of it, this doesn’t end you you think it does.” Rolf’s voice froze the image around him, and the canceled it out.

He opened his eyes, finally acknowledging his name, or rather the one that all of his visions called him by. Sweat had pooled around his temples and on the inside of his shirt. “You need to move, get some blood flowing. Try and focus on a more peaceful time in your life.” Wraith, with confusion on his face looked up at the apparition in his mind. “Why, why can’t I focus on that chain of events? I have a son, I need to explore that.” Sadness lined the Jedi who was close to him in his former life, as if the ghost in his mind was afraid to utter the next words.

“Because, it’s only going to bring you more pain.”

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Darron Wraith"]

"Dad."

"Hm?" Jorus opened his eyes. The D'Lessio was turning a broad circle over the jungle.

"There's a ton of pain here. It's being just poured into the Force. I'm catching a lot of confusion and a lot of anger too. No malice, though. It's not...dark. I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Let me know when you find the words." He pointed at the jungle. "Set us down over there."

"How'd you know where it was coming from?"

"I may not have an empathic bone in my body, but..." He shrugged.

Mara nodded once in understanding. Whatever she was feeling, it was the same thing that had drawn him here. The subcapital attack ship straightened out, shedding the last of its reentry velocity, and soared down towards the jungle canopy. "I found words for it," she said as the D'Lessio banked again, skimming the treetops. "PTSD. It's exactly how I'd imagine I felt after Lameredd."

It hurt to hear her talk about it so bleakly. He did his level best to bury the hurt, and knew the effort didn't do any good. She was half-Zeltron, raised by a Lorrdian, and the student of [member="Aleidis Zrgaat"]. Fooling his daughter was impossible.

"Take us down," he said hoarsely. "Let's go see who this might be."