I Changed My Mind, Let Me Out

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

On her own Washburne class shuttle in space. No set destination. No goal. No plans. The Twi'lek was distraught. This was putting it mildly. She was still barely on the edges of rationality. She paced from one section of the ship to another, occasionally snarling at nothing, or at least at things that only she could see. Something was wrong. She didn't know what, and she didn't know how to fix it. Her abused body protested the continual motion, but having returned to consciousness she could not stay still. In part this was because she wanted to either fight or run, but could see nothing to fight and had nothing to run from and nowhere to run to.

She couldn't return to the Casinos, to Raven held territory. Firstly because she recognized that she was not in top form. You could not be seen to be weak. Not if you wanted to hold your position, your status. As soon as it looked like you were faltering the scavengers closed in. Secondly because she would not bring a threat into her home. She may have been unable to identify the threat, but she knew it was there. Knew it stalked her every agitated step.

It was lucky space was mostly made up of vast stretches of nothingness. She barely looked at the readouts. Was hardly setting courses. At least she'd not attempted a hyperspace jump after the first one to gain distance between herself and her own crew. She was blind to any more immediate possible threats, so intent on the one that nagged at her.

How dare Vornskr! How dare the Sith! Lips drew back from teeth again in rage and defiance. Never again. She'd kill him, rend him, tear him- She whirled, looking for a threat that still wasn't there. The sense of other persisted, heightening her aggression and distress. There was something. She knew it, could feel it.

She needed.. what? To find and rid herself of the threat. She need safety. Security. She needed [member="Emberli Garett"]. Rational Chiasa would never have thought that. Irrational, harried Chiasa knew it.

The comm terminal was given a dark look as she approached it. Technology was not something she wanted or felt equipped to deal with right now. She wanted a blade. A knife. Did not know how to use one effectively and wanted one all the same. But this was what she had. This was what she needed to deal with if she wanted Emberli.

///begin transmission...

To: Emberli Garett
From: Chiasa Kritivaas

need you. where?

...end transmission///

The brevity, lack of capitalization, all was extremely out of character.Perhaps he wouldn't respond at all. Even worse it was sent unencrypted. Traceable.

For a moment the Twi'lek stood frozen, arms locked and straight as she leaned on them over the terminal, yellow eyes fixed on it and a faint whine escaped a throat still raw from screaming. Then she spun and resumed her pacing.

 

[Carbon]

Em was presently enjoying sitting, looking out over the bay he kept a home near. An old one, for sure. An old apartment more aptly. But it was functional. It did its job. Perfect for fishing too. He enjoyed fishing. Slumber had nearly claimed him as he sat on a small chair by the waters edge when his datapad told him something came in.

He didn't even look to see who it was from. The glare made it difficult.

>...Keldabe
>...fishing spot.

She wouldn't have any idea what that meant.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The ping had her immediately back at the console. Eyes roved over the short message. Keldabe. Lips drew back from teeth again. Keldabe was not safe. The capital city of Mandalore and the she'd not yet won over the Mandalorians. She did not want to go there. Did not want to go there in the least. Bad enough on an average day when she was strong and cunning and prepared. This day she felt small and weak and hunted. Not a good time to step onto a planet filled with beings unfriendly to you all of whom were trained to be fighters, hunters. Not when you were so easily recognizeable. She was no spy, she did not go about with cloaks and hoods and masks!

As her distress grew it shifted, was pushed over into anger and aggression again. Let them who would harm her come! Let them try! Not again, she'd not allow it, with tooth and claw-

She whirled. It was here, she could feel it. She could feel it. But she saw nothing.

Keldabe. Emberli was in Keldabe. This was what mattered, She would find him and then she would be safe. It did not occur to her, as she set the coordinates and settled uneasily into the pilots chair, that Keldabe was a rather large city and fishing spot did not narrow things down. It did not occur to her that in the time it took her to get there he could be somewhere else.

She had latched on to exactly two ideas. Emberli was in Keldabe. If she could find Emberli it would be all right.

The ship made the first hyperspace jump, miraculously programmed correctly more from habit than attention. Gods knew she should have stayed at the controls, but she didn't. Couldn't. She continued to pace, returning only to the console when prompted by the pings of sensors and readouts.

It took several hours to reach Mandalore, and if she'd been in any shape to think about ti she would have been greatful she'd bought her own ship from a legitimate company and that to her knowledge it was not tied to any criminal deeds thusfar. As she entered atmo and piloted towards Keldabe however, the distress returned. It was almost entirely encircled by a river. Even if she landed and walked along the edge, it could still be hours more before she found Emberli. Hours exposed in a hostile city. Hours with armed and armoured Mandalorians all around her. Her heartbeat picked up.

Could not. Could not. Emberli was stronger, better, more than the average Mandalorian, but he had beaten her easily with no arms or armour at all. What chance did she have against a city of them with all the gear they wanted? She was still hurting, nerve endings raw and abused, insides aching in ways she'd never experienced. Would fight them to get to Emberli. Would fight every last one of them but.. did not want to.

Yes you do. Fight and kill and rend and destroy-

She whirled, growling. Where? Where was it? That had not been her. That was the other again.

Hesitantly, grudgingly she turned her back on the emptiness of the ship to face the console again. As it settled down into the space port another message was sent out.

///begin transmision...

To: [member="Emberli Garett"]
From: Chiasa Kritivaas

in keldabe. fishing spot is where?

...end transmission///

 

[Carbon]

Most Mandalorians weren't arsed to look out for anyone that wasn't them. Anyone here who wasn't Mandalorian was either here to become a part of the culture or hire someone who already was. Not too many questions were asked. The days of the Sith at the door were long gone, and on a planet where even your youngest citizen could outfight a trained soldier you often weren't too concerned with the person next to you.

But by the time she arrived he was already getting ready for bed. Coming from the shower, he paused to examine the datapad. He'd thought it peculiar when no one had shown up earlier, but as a man who was so solitary as to be labeled a hermit he hadn't given it a second thought.

This time though, this time he realized what who it was and what was going on.

She must really be desperate to show up here.


>...1105, 103rd Street. Apt 10b.

>...Good luck.

That last bit was tongue in cheek. But once she made her way she'd find the place overlooking the river that surrounded the town. It had grown wider as time had gone on, until this side was nearly a bay that lead to the ocean. But the granite hill the city was built on remained - albeit surrounded by more water than ever before.

The apartment building itself was two floors in an elongated L shape. His apartment was at the very tip of the long end furthest from the bend and closest to the river. And, by extension, the dock that had been built to extend out and into it. She need only knock. But, of course, there was a mat outside the door for her to remove her shoes. No one would stop her on her way, he imagined.

And no one would question her being there with him. The Bear may not be the most social sort, but there were plenty of people who stopped by to talk with him.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The reply wasn't immediate, but she hadn't been waiting too long either. As soon as she read the message it was committed to memory and she was gone, off the ship, weapons and droids left behind, not intentionally, but because she had exactly one driving desire, one need, find [member="Emberli Garett"]

It was true that those around her didn't take much notice, aside from the usual once over from some of the men. This wasn't how it felt however. Every glance in her direction was a glare from a possible threat. Every weapon was one that existed solely to be used against her. Every helmet hid a known enemy. Everyone behind her was about to attack. Her heart was pounding hard enough that it felt as if anyone looking at her would surely see it's silhouette doing it's stutter-step dance through her skin. A cold sweat and semi dilated pupils completed the trifecta of paranoia and fear that wanted to break into anger and rage.

He has a blaster. He's going to shoot you. Kill him before he does!

The muscles in her shoulders actually tensed and she half readied herself to spring at a Mandalorian not even paying attention to her, simply re-holstering a weapon before she checked herself, eyes on the ground, looking up only to check street names and numbers. It was still following, still here, the other. Don't run. Don't draw attention. Just move with purpose. Find Emberli.

She made it to the building, on almost her last nerve, the view was lost on her in her desperation to just find safety. She moved past the doors quickly, checking numbers, her control slipping and nearing panic or frenzy. Finally, finally 10b at the far end. The closed door gave her pause for a moment and she looked at it in desperation, as if this last, minor barrier was insurmountable.

Nothing registered beyond the apartment number and the door. Normally she might remember that he had taken off his footwear in her space and note the mat presumably placed so his visitors could do the same. Nothing about this day was normal.

Hesitantly a hand rose, fingers curled down to form a loose fist and she knocked twice, pressing herself against the door as if she could squeeze through the crack where door met wall without it being opened. Eyes casting occasional glances over her shoulder. Trying still to find the threat that dogged her steps.

 

[Carbon]

Tshirt. Shorts. Towel hung up to dry. Everything in order. Everything as it should be. Except the woman on her way. She shouldn't be here. This wouldn't do. Things always got worse when women came to his home. He imagined it was because they felt like he was letting them in. Opening up to them. He wasn't. It was a home. He lived there. People needed a roof over their head if they didn't want to die from dysentery.

He really didn't want to die from that.

But once he heard the knock, he came to the door, opening it only to find a Twi'lek near tumbling into his arms because she had pressed herself entirely too close to the door. Almost as if she were listening in to hear for him coming. Or, as if she were afraid she were being followed. He hurriedly instructed her to remove her shoes - or, at the very least, let him remove them - before pulling her inside.

The interior was probably what she expected. Most of the stuff in here was well cared for but old, the only new things being appliances that no doubt need be changed out as they wore out from use. Immediately inside the door was a small living area, and to her left was a kitchen. The bedroom was at the end of the room on the left, just past aforementioned food prep area.

She could sit wherever. He didn't much have time for games.

"What's wrong." It was a command.

She was going to tell him.

And if she were smart, she'd do it quickly and in as few words as possible.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Shoes off. Fine. With speed and haste, leaving them laying at an angle to each other, one tipped over on the mat. They were expensive leather boots, the heel smaller than usual, but still an investment she would usually be more careful of. In. In the house. Emberlis. His lair. Surely nothing could get her here, and yet the sense of other persisted. No! It couldn't be here. It couldn't! And yet it was. Her eyes scanned the apartment. Not assessing or calculating like they usually would, searching. Checking for threats. Checking for exit routes.

She did not sit. How could one sit when they were being harried so by a pursuer they could not see? Could not escape? Could not fight or flee from? She did not pace at the least. Not because she did not want to. She did. She desperately wanted to move, to keep moving. Muscles tensed and untensed, jittering beneath her skin. She did not because it was not her place to pace within. Because she had not been invited, she had imposed.

He spoke. No question. An order. A command. Eyes switched back to him. A mountain. A rock. Solid when things were terrifyingly mutable.

A threat. He hurt you. He could do it again. He uses you. When he is done using you, you will be discarded. Who is he to use you? Who is he to hurt you? He should be dealt with.

This was a mistake. This urging. It was right. It was true. It echoed her own fears. But she would not rise against Emberli. Not ever. He who had the right to command her when no one else did. Now she knew the other better. Did not know how to deal with it, but knew it all the same as it worked to turn her against the one person the feral side of her would never turn on.

Eyes dropped, head turned to the side, chin tilting ever so slightly up. Arms at her sides rotated slightly so that inner wrists faced him.

"Don't know."

This was not enough.

"Sith."

This was spat out, snarled. Here the rage had an easier time gaining a foothold. She did hate the Sith. She did want to destroy them, see them suffer.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

The woman was nutters right now. Absolutely nutters.

She clearly was desperate, considering she came here. As ever, he was the rock. The strength. Something to latch onto when everything else fell apart. A brow rose at her, curious. She was different. Very different. He put his palms down on the counter and gave her a considering, hard look.

Sith?

She wasn't Sith. The Sith were a problem, though. That much he knew. Did they do something to her? Offend her ego, perhaps?

That seemed likely. Clashing egos would explain everything.

And the Sith were known for hunting people down with a vengeance when they weren't getting their hindquarters kissed with appropriate regularity.

"Are they here...?" He asks, eyes flickering to the windows, shoulders visibly tensing as he stared holes through the blinds.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"I don't know!"

This was very nearly howled, and her self control broke. She turned back to pacing.

"No?"

She offered at one end of the room, before whipping around to stalk back to the other, hands clenching and unclenching into fists. Fingernails finding the crescents already cut into her palms.

"I feel it. Something. Following. Cannot find."

She paused midroom, head lifted like a strill scenting the wind. Whatever she was searching for she did not find, and teeth still stained with blood were revealed as she snarled silently again.

"In my head."

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

"Idea. Sit down."

There was a snap to his fingers as he pointed to a stool across from him. "How did it get in your head?"

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Another command. Where normally there would be snarky resentment, now there was only relief. Things were too complicated. The world was too large and scary and she not only didn't want, she didn't know how to deal with it. She moved to sit where he indicated, still ready to run at a moments notice.

This.. explaining was hard. She did not want to give control back over to her rational side. The memories were still too fresh, too painful. But.. But at least it was Emberli. It was not as if he had not seen her beaten before. Slowly, slowly, her aggressive feral side retreated.

"One of the Dark Lords Voices.. called. And we are allied, and it is my job, so I answered. Went to his home."

Her voice was faltering. The easy rhythm lacking. Eyes stayed firmly on the floor. Shoulders rounded slightly in fear at the memory. She had been there before and it had been fine. There'd been no reason to expect the attack. Except that he was Sith.

How did one explain an attack that left almost no physical marks? He'd violated her mind, tortured her body, electrocuted her. It would almost have been easier if there were great gashes and bruises, then she would not have to explain, but there were not. She'd bit the tip of her tongue off and that was it.

"He.. decided to show me what he was capable of."

Bare feet were pulled up, knees under her chin, heels just on the edge of the stools seat, arms wrapped around her legs. It was not comfortable, but it was comforting, a little at least. Enough that she could continue, voice sinking.

"I do not remember everything.. I.. I passed out. I couldn't fight, he was too strong and I.. I am not."

She fought back tears. Hid face behind her knees for a moment, blinking away the burning sensation, swallowing. She would not cry. She would not be that weak. Besides, he could not comfort her, she was not safe. The other was inside her, she was sure of it now. It wasn't following, it was inside. She was the threat. When she had at least a tiny thread of control she raised her head again, not able to look him in the eye, watching his shoulders instead.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

The man gave a slow nod of his head, digging under the counter for a whiskey glass and a bottle of whiskey. Setting the glass in front of her, he poured her a measure and slid it over. "You'll need to brush your teeth before the night ends." He says finally. If she stayed, if she left - either way, she wouldn't want to look like she'd been eating bodies around here. That would certainly warrant a second look.

Mandalorians were often thought of as brutish mercenaries, but they really weren't. They were just like any other people. Just, ya know, with more armor and weapons and enough training to make any mother sob for the future of her child.

"Sounds to me like you just realized you bet on the wrong pod." He says dryly. Doing anything with the Sith was just a horrid idea. Even if they screwed up, it was still your fault for taking offense to it.

You couldn't maintain a relationship like that.

"Have you tried getting stronger?"

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The tooth brushing comment puzzled her for a moment. She'd gotten used to the coppery taste of blood. Her first thought was that it had to do with the whiskey. She drank very rarely these days, but she remembered when she had and the unpleasant sensation of fuzzy teeth the next morning. She was afraid to drink, afraid to lose control, but it was one glass, and if ever she had ever needed a drink she needed one now. After a moments hesitation she took the tumbler and took a generous sip. About the time this whiskey hit her tongue and the burning started was when she remembered she'd bit the tip off and made sense of his comment.

"Kan't!"

She swore with a grimace. As much as she felt whiskey ought to be sipped.. She threw the rest back, bypassing her tongue as much as possible. Putting the tumbler back down, she wasn't sure if it helped that much, but at least the warmth in her core was something else to focus on and abused nerve endings quieted their protests a little.

"I didn't bet on them, I just have to deal with it."

She protested, though her heart wasn't in it. The groundwork had been Lysle and Cryax continued and cemented it. On the surface it even looked like it made sense.. But Sith didn't work with anyone. People worked for them. This was becoming increasingly clear. What could she do though? Cryax was in control, not her. Even if he shouldn't be.. Even if he was no longer dependable.. Frustrating that while she cleaned up after him and handled most of the day to day business, he still called the shots that could get her killed. Maybe he shouldn't...

"You are right.."

Here her voice was small again, repentant where it might have been frustrated or angry.

"You showed me that I was weak and I did what? Hired the strong. In the end we are all alone. I should have been preparing."

It wasn't fair. She was a dancer. A diplomat. A thing of beauty. But the galaxy was not fair and glass ballerinas were shattered on its uncaring floors everyday. The world she'd chosen was dangerous. She would need to be dangerous too, in every sense of the word.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

"You're too proud for learning. You must start anew. Remember you are a small fish in a big pond. It doesn't matter if you get the biggest bounty in the galaxy. Win the biggest war that anyone has ever seen. Anything. Doesn't matter. Sooner or later someone stronger than you will show up. When they do... you'd better be ready to give them as good as you can. Even if you don't win, wound them enough they know they aren't invincible."

He shrugged. That was as Mandalorian a view as he could give her. But he noted that her tongue was all sorts of screwed up. "It'll grow back." He says. Give it a few weeks and it would be as good as new. She'd probably need it given her nature and appetite for him.

Still, he felt part of his mouth twitch at the idea of a Sith harming her.

Not because he was territorial, but because the Sith harming anyone he knew offended him on a deep mental level. "But it sounds to me like you have at least somewhat learned the lesson. The second time around, at least."

But he'd believe that when he saw it. Otherwise, if her head didn't leave her rectum before things got even worse, she'd be dead before the year was out.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"Mmm."

Was all the reply he got. Arms were firmly wrapped around her legs again. She felt almost in control. The sense of 'other' was still there, waiting, but it was in the back of her mind rather than the forefront.

She didn't think she was too proud to learn she just.. Hadn't wanted to accept that it was necessary. She didn't go around brawling. She wasn't a soldier. And the truth was that she knew she was small and weak, she just pretended that it wasn't so in the hope that everyone else would believe her. For the most part they did, but those who didn't.. She was so easily beaten. So easily broken. She hated it. This was the second time, she did not want there to be a third.

What then was the correct course of action? To become stronger? Unarmed combat she supposed. Melee weapons. Gaining greater proficiency with blasters. And the damned Force. Okay. Fine. There were barely enough hours in a day for her current duties, but she'd find more somehow.

If she was to be beaten again she'd at least make the other party bleed. No one was invincible. Anyone who fought her would learn that.

..and maybe if she fought harder, better next time she would just be killed rather than violated so. For the most part she scorned the idea of a warriors death and those who believed in them, but some things were worse than dying.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

"You need another?" He asks, wagging the handle at her for a moment. It seemed to have finally sunk in that he'd been right the first time. If only she'd listened then. But that would have been too easy.

She didn't like easy.

He did, though. Sometimes.

Depended on the mood. "I'm going to bed." He says finally. Leave it to a Mandalorian to not show up to a pity party. The booze was still there, same with the glass. But him? He felt the sweet sweet covers were needed just then. He'd always been atrocious at this sort of thing. She need only ask Mia about coming back from being tortured by Daxton. He'd basically just told her 'get over it.'

It hadn't been that easy.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

She considered the bottle for a moment. It would be so easy to just drink until it went away, for now at least. The pain, the fear, the worry, the injustice of life in general, but..

"No. Thank you."

She had so much to do. So much to figure out. She couldn't ask Emberli to train her, she'd imposed on him too much recently.. Xalus would, now that he was back. Or she could hire someone. Tyro'din could likely teach her a trick or two, but the only think she trusted about the Bothan was that he was not to be trusted. As for the Force.. She supposed she'd have to train herself. After all she could hardly go to the Jedi and did not want to go to the Sith. It surely couldn't be that hard. Mental defences were first on her list.

He almost startled her when he spoke again, she was so sunk into the list of things to do and how she would do them. It was a statement, not an invitation but she was loathe to leave yet. Would she be as calm when she walked out the door? When he wasn't there anymore? A thread of anxiety returned, twisting it's way through her.

"Me too?"

There was just an edge of pleading she couldn't quite keep out of her voice. She didn't even truly want anything of him other than his warmth beside her and the steady, comforting sound of his breath.

"My ship is here, if you are busy tomorrow though..."

She added, because she had to give him a way out, because maybe he would not want her beside him now that she bore the Siths taint.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

There was a sound he hadn't expected. A twinge of fear. A plaintive cry for help masked by an innocuous question. In that moment she was a child wishing for a parent to sleep with to keep the monsters and nightmares away. Blinking, he looked over his shoulder at her for a moment before shrugging. "You're free to join. If not, I'll be here tomorrow." That was it in his world.

You did or you didn't.

Take. Don't take. Action was all it was.

Take that action.

Disappearing into the bedroom, he pulled his shirt off over his head by grabbing the neck of it and sliding it up. It was discarded before he stripped off his pants. Bed. Covers. Sleep. Maybe another body. Maybe not.

Depended on if she cleaned her mouth out and stayed. Either way, she was going to have to leave the boots outside.

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Relief washed over her, mixed with a little shame that she was so relieved. Shame or no, she didn't want to be alone. It was fine while she was thinking, planning. What happened when she stopped? When she had to remember? To live through it again? That was surely what would happen, was it so wrong to want him beside her when it did?

She very nearly followed him immediately before she remembered the tooth brushing comment. It wasn't as if she'd packed an overnight bag, and using his was just a bit too.. couple-y. She didn't know what they were, suspected there was no name for it, but she was sure he didn't want her using his toiletries. She stopped at the sink in his kitchen, turned on the water and leaning down used her hand to funnel some into her mouth. Swishing it around she spat, and repeated until it stopped being stained with blood. Good enough.

Now she padded after him, pausing at the edge of the bed to strip off her own clothes. Crawling into bed, she edged closer to him, until she lay on her side, stomach pressed against him, one leg over his, a hand on his chest. Experience said he would sleep regardless and she needed the reassurance.

Just this once, with no one else watching, just this once would be okay. His heat radiating against her skin, his scent in her nose, his steady breathing and the slow even pounding of his heart beneath her hand, these things told her she was safe.

[member="Emberli Garett"]

 

[Carbon]

And sleep regardless he would. He was pretty much out for the count by the time she got to bed. But despite his slumber, his body reacted automatically to her alongside him. An arm rose to wrap around her shoulder, pulling her in against him. She'd be fine until morning, really, and that was that.