Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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I, the Jury

A carefree laugh bubbled past her lips, mottled eyes sparking with a renewed energy and mischievous air. When he swiped at her boot she mimicked a slight stumble to the side, one of her own design, looking to him with something of an expectant smile. In that moment Keira knew what it meant to live a life entirely free of any burden or stress, whether physical or emotional. The very air she breathed seemed to exude an electricity that only added to her upbeat mood, and despite the residual pain from her injury she had never experienced such a state of complete and permeable peace before in her life. Except, perhaps for the first time in his presence after Ziost. It was always him that brought this about her, bringing out emotions she wasn't certain were capable of feeling, those of the most genuine and pure sort.

The burn suffered was regarded nonchalantly, a shrug of the shoulder her only response to his insistence that she get it looked at by the appropriate medical personnel. The only professionals she had ever gone to for any type of injury had been her own expertise, and most every one of her scars had been stitched by her own hand at one point. It was easier and far less time-consuming, regardless of the excess pain and often rocky healing process that followed. But now she had his conscience on her shoulder, reminding her times over just what was the appropriate action to take in this or that circumstance. To have another, decidedly more logical mind helping to dictate her choices was at once a blessing and a curse. At the very least it meant she would be taking better care of herself, which was invariably a necessity.

His comment was met with a roll of the eyes, no matter how quiet he thought it to be. "Yeah, yeah, of course you weren't. Because I'm sure Lightning comes effortlessly for everyone. Never mind the fact that everyone on the planet could likely sense all of this." Regardless of his words she knew effort had been put forth by the both of them, that of the sort that was relentless until they witnessed their opponent's fall. It was an emotional purity despite the chaos inherently present, leaving them focused on nothing more than the imminent fight and the landing of the next blow. Any and every other issue became miniscule in the face of that, lending a focus that was dangerously precise. It was one she was acutely familiar with and reveled in, after constant years taking part in this or that battle. This was just another day.

For all of her outward commentary she did intend to have someone along the line tend to her burn, if just to put any of his worry to rest. There was a medical bay within the Temple, that much she was aware of after her previous stay. The unlikely duo arrived at the medical bay in short order, and she had to stifle a crooked smile at the looks received. She surmised it wasn't often two Jedi wandered in battered and bruised so severely from nothing more than an apparent sparring match. But then, the two of them were far from the typical individuals that resided here in Voss. "Your rib needs looked at, too." Before he was able to muster any real protest she pulled him along into one of the branching rooms they had been ushered into, ignoring what comments he may have had about being perfectly fine. To neglect treatment was only another decision he would regret later.

In short order a privacy screen was erected between the two, though that did nothing to dissuade her from continuing their back and forth banter. "Guess I could say the same, then. But I think the both of us would be lying. You know that wasn't easy for you." One of the female staff motioned for her to remove the top layer of clothing so the entirety of her wound could be inspected, and she complied, wincing as the burn was cleaned and medicated. Looking back, this was close to the first time any of her injuries had been given the proper attention they required. In due time the burn itself was wrapped, the bandages themselves coated in a salve of sorts as well. Only then after pulling on the rest of her ensemble was she allowed to step from behind the screen, grimacing slightly as she adjusted her clothing over the bandages. "Good as new."

[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
So they walked, and talked, and touched their respective wounds a little to make sure nothing else happened to them. It was suspiring to Connor how well Keira seemed to remember the layout of the Temple and the grounds. She had been paying more attention than originally thought. He smiled a little at those he passed.

With the staff in the medbay and medical droids on hand, Connor knew the routine, but Keira led on and dragged and pulled him around as if he was going to run given a chance. He was too winded to run much, and without protest just went with the flow, trying not to laugh too much at the absurdity of their situation.

”Thank you,” he said to the Rodian nurse helping him.

On the other side, Keira was being tended to and he could hear he going on still, to which he rolled his eyes.

”I know it…ow…wasn’t, but it helped. A little.”

Laid back on the recliner, Connor lifted his top up for the poking and prodding to continue on the rib, and she had been right – bruised, not broken. A good battering of the internal organs from those kicks.

”Certainly makes you feel alive,” he said from behind the screen.

Moments later, she appeared, wounds dressed and looking ready for round two. Connor automatically felt awkward with his torso on display in front of her, if only for the fact those inverted dents and scars still made him queasy when he accidently touched them on his side. Let alone someone else seeing them.

The Rodian applied a heat pack to his skin and taped it down, giving him an injection in the side and two tablets once he had sat up. It pretty much meant take it easy, let the bruising and swelling ease and monitor the pain. Connor nodded and voiced his thanks.

”Good as new. Ish. Come on let’s go somewhere.”

He motioned for Keira to step outside, rolling the tablets around in hand and eager to get away from the confines of a medical ward. The smell of medicine and disinfectant always tickled his nose. As she passed him by, he placed his hand on her back to guide her out, nodding again to the staff.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
The scars on his torso immediately attracted her attention, but Keira knew better than to blatantly stare or so much as give them a second glance. It was plain he was self-conscious about some aspect of them, whether it was just her bearing witness or the memories that accompanied them as a whole. It wasn't her place to disturb him with a request to hear the tale that had torn those markings into his skin, and so she would leave it at that silent moment of solidarity. The both of them had their own private stories that had inflicted scars both mental and physical onto them both, and she knew the value of privacy when it came to those remembrances. A nod of her head and the barest hint of a smile was her only response, two gestures that communicated her understanding of his want to remain silent about the issue. At the very least she owed him this much.

In short order the pair once more wandered away, off to their own hopefully less dangerous devices. At the very least no one would be returning with any broken bones or burns. That was a start of some kind. "Why do you think I've spent the last six years or so more or less constantly in combat? It makes you appreciate life in a way nothing else really can." And it would always hold a special place for her, even if the meditative state she reached in the midst of the violence was considered perverse by some. To her it was home, and in some sense would continue to be so for what she supposed was eternity. She had spent the majority of her life learning how to be finely tuned so that she might survive the next battle with only scars or lost limbs and quite the story to tell later. To abandon such a path in favor of something less agreeable was a foolish notion.

Booted feet scuffed against the floor as they walked, another sign of her relatively carefree attitude. This was the most at ease she had been around anyone since spending time with her older brothers, and that had been years ago. Whether he realized it or not, Connor had made an enormous impact in her life, and this was only the start of things. He had been the one to once more align her on the correct path, and so would remain an important figure for what would likely be the rest of her life. He would always be the one she would go to in some sense, for support of any kind. It was a strange bond they shared, where they were brought closer through violent sparring matches and the time spent afterwards licking and mending their wounds. Perhaps that release of power between them had bridged another gap that brought them ever closer.

"So," She gave him a sideways glance, "You have any Padawans, or anything? I'm assuming that's the word you Jedi use, anyway." Casual conversation was something she was far from explicitly familiar with. Words were typically utilized in combat as a weapon in themselves, never in an everyday affair. She was hoping that he would help take control of things in some aspect, so she wasn't merely grasping at straws. "I have an apprentice. Used to have three, back when I still worked with the Sith and Primeval." One shoulder lifted in an awkward shrug. "Dunno. I'm new to this conversation thing." A sheepish smile grew on her lips as she once more looked to him. That was another portion of her soul bared that not many were aware of. Fighting and combat was perfectly natural, but when it came to average galactic activities she was entirely at a loss. It was funny, how things worked.

It was in that moment she realized that she wasn't certain exactly where the mess hall was, but she had learned to make things up as she went along, and this was no different. One way or another they would get there, the only variable being if it would be before or after he determined that she was, in fact, more or less unaware of where she was going. "What about the rest of your Order, then? I'm assuming they don't exactly like the idea of me hanging around here. I've never exactly been the greatest of friends with the Jedi. I'm sure they haven't forgotten Ziost, not that neither of us have. But they don't seem the sort to forgive and forget." She was almost to the point of rambling, so uncertain was she in this conversation that she herself had instigated. If it hadn't been so before, it was blatant how oblivious she really was in most social situations.

[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
He knew where he was taking her without thinking – years of doing the same route. Through the medbays and isolation chambers, up into the ground floor of the Temple, past the large lobby and water feature representing a unified natural cycle of life, and up to the second floor to the East wing. Connor’s favourite cantina run by the staff there from Voss overlooked the hangar and could be opened up on nice evenings and days to sit out and watch the activity down below. Ships coming in and out and the orbiting moons up above the far mountains.

She talked to him, and he listened. A fascinating creature indeed and he felt very comfortable around her given their history.

”My first real Padawan was mutilated by a Sith and left blind. God she’s so young – shouldn’t have happened. You know when life makes you see it’s unfair? That was one of those for me. She’s an amazing human being. You’d hate her.”

He smiled across to her as they walked.

”But she’s in a far better place than me that’s for sure. My other Padawan, well, she wasn’t ready for the horrors out there I don’t think and I gave too much too soon. She’s probably going to leave the Order. I don’t know.”

Chastity still burnt a hole in his heart – so much potential gone up in smoke.

”So now I don’t think I’ll waste my time or theirs with taking another. I will help them here, sure, but taking them under my wing? Not a good idea.”

He guided her up after a while to the cantina, full of low afternoon light from outside.

”Pick what you want and take a seat. Time to relax I think. If you can do that.”

Standing beside her he talked gently.

”And if the Order can accept me wandering around here, I’m sure they can tolerate you. Remember you are under my name here, so if anything happens at the end of the day it’s on my neck. So behave. Please.”

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
A slight furrow of the brow was her only immediate response, the corners of her mouth tightening nearly imperceptibly. No immediate verbal response manifested, and Keira settled for listening to all that he had to say while carefully considering the deeper impact of his words. It was plain he was confiding in her in some sense simply by admitting these things which had been weighing on his mind in some manner, and she wasn't entirely sure how to perceive such a seemingly trusting action. It was a simple task for her to count the amount of people she completely trusted, as there were really only two, including the one she was currently conversing with. Everyone else may well have been enemy. And it seemed that he put just as much faith in her as she did him, though perhaps differently. Average human interaction would always baffle her.

"Sometimes terrible things happen to the best people. There isn't any way to explain that away, you know that." As she spoke she avoided his gaze, though whether it was out of shame for her own past actions or some strange form of sympathy was unclear. Her actions had always been difficult to explain, and even she wasn't certain what the root of them was. It was always easier to act impulsively and leave any of the real coherent thought for later, when more time was allotted to do so. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry that happened to her. I know that probably doesn't matter much now, but I mean it." Almost tentatively she looked to him, every sentiment earnest and genuine. This was her true emotion shining through, still very much uncertain of what every last feeling meant, though she was doing what she could to understand herself once again.

The second Padawan he had mentioned, the one that he had supposedly failed and who would likely leave the Order, was the one that intrigued her the most, simply because that situation rang familiar. Not because of any similarities to her own life, but because she had once felt the same as this young woman now was: lost, alone and afraid for what her next move would be. But now she was better for it, or at least trying to be, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone else to end up like her. Sometimes, however, there were those beyond saving. It was that factor she was acutely aware of. That didn't, of course, mean she had to pay any real attention to it. Things would be accomplished her own way regardless. It was only a matter of getting everyone else to see that, and right now that included these Jedi as well.

A quiet sigh passed her lips. "No one is ever really ready, Connor. Not the first time they witness war for what it is, and not the last, when they draw their final breath." That was far more poetic than anything she had ever said, but it rang true all the same. "I wasn't ready, you weren't, and she wasn't either. The difference is whether you're willing to pick back up and carry on. Some people just give up and let life hold them under until they drown. But you have to remind her that she can't. Not now and not ever." She shook her head. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. All I know is that if she's any kind of fighter, she'll dust herself off and figure out a way to move on with life. If she isn't, she won't, and that settles that. But you aren't the one that failed. She is. She gave up and let herself be broken down. You didn't." Harsh perhaps, but a measure of fact was present.

Briefly she studied the menu available. This was a far more civilized venue than she had found herself in in a long time, and it took a moment to remember how places such as this functioned. Normalcy was returning to her life piece by piece, whether she was ready for it or not. But while her routine and place of residence may have been normal, her personality and general behavior still needed its own tweaking until she was considered properly adjusted by most. That would take time, if indeed such a thing transpired at all. "If I can take on an apprentice then you can, too. I don't think you're quite as bad as me, yet." Wordlessly she slid the menu back across the counter, having pointed out one of the items. "And don't worry, I'll behave." She flashed a smile as the bottle of Corellian whiskey was slid across the counter, and she sat down at a nearby table, unscrewing the cap. "Mostly." With that she lifted it to her lips.

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[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
Connor slowly nodded and smiled, that gracious look where you accept a kind word but don’t have to say anything. From knocking the crap out of each other to now leaning on each other’s shoulders for solace? This was what real understanding was.

”Blue milk and something sugary, please,” he ordered, leaning on the counter listening to Keira.

She spoke more truth and sense than anyone he knew – she never glossed over anything, so everything she said he knew was 100% sincere. If she supported him and offered condolence, he believed her. If she mocked or insulted him, he believed that too. Right now, she was understanding.

She was right too about Chastity, and Sy, in equal measure. Both times he’d failed them in their own way, but one was stronger than the other and he always knew which would prevail.

”I could say it was a test of strength at the forsake of my own pride – see who would come out stronger. Syala seems to have done that.”

He rocked back and forward gently as Keira ordered, and he watched the happy lady behind the counter rustle up something…from behind the counter itself? No food there. She turned to slide Connor’s food and drink onto the tray, and then provide Keira with her bottle. Of whiskey.

Connor’s eyes went wide, looking from the bottle, to Keira, to the lady. He didn’t even know they stocked alcohol on the grounds – in that moment, he felt like a Padawan being shown the secrets of what the Masters did when the lights went down.

Taking his items to follow her in disbelief, he looked at her taking a sip at the table with nonchalance. He sat beside her and shook his head.

”I can’t…believe you go for that. Now, here, of all times and places.”

He busied himself, trying to ignore it. Then he dropped his hands on the table.

”Seriously?”

Another shake of the head and back to his plate.

”God help any apprentice who has you as a teacher, you lush.”

Somehow he couldn’t help try not to smirk.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
"What?" Her disbelief was entirely feigned, and Keira didn't bother to disguise a quiet laugh, returning his smirk with one of her own coupled with a raised eyebrow. If he had been looking for clear evidence separating her from most other Jedi that called the Order home, this was no doubt it. Many regarded alcohol and anything of a similar inhibitory sort as something to be avoided, and with marginally good reason, given that imbibing in any substances often resulted in a lesser attunement to the finer ethereal facet of life. That was, of course, assuming one possessed any sort of addiction. And she, thankfully, was not one of those. In comparison to the far more dangerous substances available, this was a rather tame demonstration. "It's better than smoking, and besides, it isn't like I'm going to get drunk." A slow smile. "I'm not that careless."

As if to make a point she set the bottle down on the table, though the cap was still off and it was still within arm's reach. His reaction had been amusing enough, piquing her curiosity as to whether he had ever chanced to indulge in anything similar in his lifetime. If she had to guess her answer would have been a firm negative, but she had witnessed stranger things in her life. This just happened to be one of those she couldn't foresee coming to pass. That could have just as easily been his typical mentality, but even that had shifted recently with his new allegiances. Now she wasn't quite sure how to gauge him, and part of that was transpiring right now. He really was a difficult one to pin down, and she had a feeling even this excursion to the dark wouldn't last long. His return to some semblance of the light would come in time, most likely.

In some semblance of curiosity her head tilted slightly to one side as she leaned back in her chair, that same daring smile still on her lips. His comments were made in jest just as much as hers were, the two of them going back and forth in a manner far more tame than their previous sparring match had been. "You haven't even met my apprentice. It's not like you can say much yet." That would be an interesting encounter to observe, all told. Her apprentice behaved in much of the same manner as herself, at least when it came to her general nonchalant and relatively careless attitude. Their philosophy shared much of the same similarities, in a sense, with the same wanton defiance of either side of the Force pursuing each in equal measure. The two were a strange pair, but they made do all the same, learning from each other along the way.

"His name's [member="Lorraei"]. We met on Elrood a while ago. He's a rogue, like me, used to work with the Ravens when they were still around." The criminal syndicate had dissolved more than a year ago. "I think I scared him, at first, but we got along well enough. That's the long and the short of it, and I'm training him now." There really wasn't much else to tell. The two were apart more than they were together, each of them busy with their own agendas and never really paying explicit attention to the other unless they chanced to cross paths. That was something she had been meaning to remedy lately, though she hadn't found herself with much of an opportunity to do so, given what had passed for leisure time in her life in the previous months. But now, perhaps, something would change. She was trying to be better for its own sake, after all.

With a shift of the hand the bottle was once more in her grasp, and she took a long swallow before setting it down again. "And you really can't help who emerges better for it at the end of the day. They'll figure things out or they won't. Remain on the path of light or fall. Survive or die. That isn't your responsibility. All you can do is teach them and hope they've learned enough to take care of themselves. Sometimes, when they fail, you have to move on. It's not pretty, but it's life. And it's never fair. Something these Jedi need to learn more of." Her tone was almost contemptful, though in her mind those of the more traditional-minded sort deserved nothing but. Being stuck in the old ways was no method to go about things. He had once been the same, in an earlier meeting, but unfortunately most weren't so adaptable. Wordlessly she nudged the bottle closer to him. "I can tell you're curious." There was one way to test that.

If you'd like to join, Lorraei, that's perfectly fine. I know I've been horrible about getting threads posted, and this would be a nice in-between if you want to hop in.

[member="Connor Harrison"]
 
Adventure! Well no, that was a poor word for what the Desert Fox was doing. Adventure implied he was out exploring some new world with breathtaking scenery and grand expanses of landscape he had never witnessed before. Endor's moon, with it magnificent towering forests. Elrood, and it's picturesque sunsets over golden fields. Chroma Zed, the most spectacular body of water the Tatooine native had ever beheld. Those were adventures, this was decisively not. Snooping mayhaps, certainly something far more shadowy than adventure at any rate. A trick the young rogue had learned from a lover some months past, it involved some... illicit actions on his part but nothing overtly harmful to any of the security systems he had sliced his way into thus far. A facial recognition program and a transmitted data burst of a very specific woman, harmless really, when it worked properly.

Ray slammed his datapad down on the sunken table before him. The young Ringtail sitting on the back of his seat startled awake with a hissing growl. "Peace, Cehla Je'ea. Forgive my temper little one. Rest." With a minor effort he touched the small creature's mind, willing her to relaxation once more. "There we are little one. Sleep. His fingers trailed across the beast's scales gently. In time she curled back into herself, fast asleep. He turned back to his datapad scowling at the device. Relaxation was a fleeting sensation at this point, something he could remedy easily. His hands flicked through the air and his ashtray and lighter slid across the table to him. A daft motion drew a new Deathstick from a small tin box of "party favors" he kept in the main room of his AT-360. A flicker of flame, and pinkish smoke began to ooze from the tip of the narcotic filled tube. After two or three deep inhalations he picked up his datapad once more, calmed and refocused on the task at hand.

It took longer, inebriated as he was, to sort through the lines of coding than he had hoped but the program appeared to be in working order. Another few minutes to slice back into the security systems and another to reinstall his little virus, for lack of a better term. Immediately the program pinged and transmitted a data burst, the image of a dark haired woman walking toward the screen, saber hilt at her hip and her fingers brushing against it all but absent mindedly. "Damn you. I know what Keira looks like. Stop replaying the sample." With a heavy sigh Lorraei flopped back against his seat, his Ringtail, Cehla Je'ea, stirring faintly at his movement. He reached over his shoulder unconsciously to stroke the small dragon-like creature, a soothing exchange for them both. "Why is the program replaying itself little one, hmm? I have gone over the coding twice. It behaved properly the last few times but, not here. Why? What did I do wrong?" He stayed there for quite some time watching the video loop again and again, transfixed by the dark haired woman, scared and stained. Then he saw it. How had he missed it before! The video wasn't the sample at all. It showed her walking toward the camera, yes, but, the background was not Elrood's golden fields. She walked through a hallway that Ray could not place, and there, in the corner of the shot was someone else's hand briefly glimpsed.

"Ha!" He exclaimed, a boyish grin splitting his caramel features, leaving a pair of dimples clearly visible in his cheeks. "It's live!" He was on his feet in an instant and started straight for the cockpit. Cehla Je'ea sprang up with her own cry, sensing his excitement though not comprehending the cause, she lept into the air, diminutive wings spread wide to glide after him. Ray's fingers danced across the control, his AT-360 light freighter came alive in short order. His vessel dipped downward toward Voss, after burners lending an urgency to their travel.

In his time after meeting his Dark Jedi mistress Lorraei had done something out of character for the half Zeltron, smuggling, Companion, Jedi. He had stopped to think. His attention had turned inward for the first time in years and through this deep thoughtfulness and meditation, he had awakened something in himself. His connection and understanding of the Force had grown. Abilities had awakened that he didn't fully comprehend. His mind was riddled with questions that he simply didn't have answers to.

But she would.

[member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Connor Harrison"]
 
A deep, pervading sense of familiarity washed over her before Keira had a chance to continue speaking, and she paused to give their surroundings a cursory glance. Someone was here, and a deeper look into the ethereal confirmed that it indeed was the individual she had been speaking of earlier. Her apprentice, [member="Lorraei"], had arrived on Voss for reasons yet unknown. Of course, she had told him to find her at his own convenience, a test of sorts in and of itself. It was that he'd passed, and rather easily. Ironic that his opportune moment should coincide so conveniently with the end of a rather violent sparring match and the beginning of what was and still likely would cumulate to rest and relaxation. This was just another detour in the twisting and turning crossroads that made up the mess she called her life.

Some fraction of tension bled from her as she branched out into the Force for a second time, this time touching on the mind of the one that had sought her out here, a man she knew well enough. If Connor thought her brash and stubborn, then he was about to reevaluate his determination. If there was one thing she was skilled at when it came to choosing just who she would train, it was finding those that mirrored her in some manner or another. Unfortunately for the Jedi that accompanied her, this one shared some facets of her personality he no doubt wouldn't have preferred to see replicated. This time, however, that wasn't his choice to make. Whether he liked it or not, she would reconvene in some way with the other that had just arrived. It was the least she owed him after their long period of separation.

The only indication of her presence she offered was a single word spoken directly into his mind and a quiet pulse of ethereal energy, "Come." It was up to him what would be done with that information, and she wouldn't prod him either way. Even if she was the master in many respects, she didn't believe that to be her place. He would do as he pleased regardless of what authority she attempted to exercise, and much of the same went when those tables were turned. But she had a feeling that this time he would do as she bid, if just to sate his curiosity as to just why she had ended up on a Jedi-controlled planet after speaking out against them so blatantly during their last meeting. That was a tale he would have to be told another time, when there weren't unspoken questions to be answered that trumped that detail.

It seemed as if she just noticed Connor sitting there for the first time when her attention once more focused on the present, and almost lazily she stood, screwing the cap back on to her bottle of whiskey and letting it sit where she had placed it. Momentarily she stretched, working what kinks were still present in her muscles and looking over what wrappings were visible. "There's someone I want you to meet." For the briefest of seconds she locked eyes with him, turning and walking away before he could object, her pace relaxed. There was no hurry, and she wanted to give Lorraei a chance to orient himself before she walked right up to him like this was just another chance meeting on the street. She settled for waiting just inside the doors of the Temple, fingers brushing across the hilt of her blade just as they had when the pair first crossed paths.

"Fancy meeting you here."

[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
He looked at the bottle and held out his hand, giving her a grateful nod.

”I’m fine. Thank you, and remember this IS a Temple of an Order, not a bar. I do have to maintain some standards.”

Leaning back he mulled over the information on her apprentice; it seemed a little strange for one like Keira to be teaching another. Well, only a little. She certainly knew what she was talking about at times and was a very good administrator of life-lessons and harsh facts that would be useful to shape ones confidence and attitude.

Tapping his fingers he was about to speak when she suddenly came back to the conversation and started to leave. With her cryptic words, Connor looked around and couldn’t help bring his defences back – what was she doing?

He watched her go over his shoulder, before standing and taking the bottle back to the counter, not giving the server an eye. Instead he picked up the pace behind Keira.

”What do you mean? Keira, remember this isn’t a free-for-all. You can’t just bring outsiders here, I’m sorry.”

Cursing and shaking his head at her ignorance, he followed by her side to the Temple doors where she stopped, bathing in the light from the outside to look upon a ship outside of the perimeter; thankfully a small one, nothing like a transport. Connor glanced upwards for a second to check the airspace, before looking to the casual face of Keira.

”What the hell are you doing,” he hissed.

[member="Keira Ticon"] | [member="Lorraei"]
 
Lorraei set his ship down in a clearing outside the grounds of the local Jedi temple. The Air Traffic Control Official for Voss had refused to let him land in a proper spaceport, some issue of his registration and background checks or some such bureaucratic Hutt chit. He didn't actually mind, the likelihood of finding his unorthodox master in a major city was slim at best. Of course having to land outside the Jedi temple was going to delay his search all the same. Keira, beautiful, dark and battle torn Keira, was certainly not going to be welcomed by the Order and their uptight, self justifying code. He might as well be on the opposite side of the planet for all the good the temple would do for his search.

As Ray listened to yet another loop of "please hold for the next available Traffic Control agent. Please maintain distance and await further instructions." Blah. Blah. Blah. The seventh time he had been put on hold now. Regardless he continued to dress himself, adding a golden Lashaa silk scarf to his black attire. The fingers of his right hand began to dance as, one by one, his collection of throwing knives tumbled free of their hiding places to zip across the room to his waiting hand. Each was tucked into a fold or hidden sheath, a memorized pattern of cutlery in the event he was attacked. Finally his curved saber hilt rolled through the air, which he kept spinning around him end over end. As he moved off his ship he whistled, "Come Cehla Je'ea, we're leaving." Without a moment's pause the small Tailring lept into the air trailing after the Desert Fox.

The moment his soles hit soil Keira's voice echoed through the young rogue's mind, beckoning him with a pulse of energy. His gaze instantly shifted to the temple, his eyes narrowing speculatively. Uncertain if his ability to respond would have the strength to reach her, he opted for a one word answer to her one word calling, "Keira." He turned down the path leading to the temple, Tailring winging after and saber spinning near his right hand. Only to be interrupted as his datalogger pinged alive once more. Yet another new operator, the supervisor of the last one no doubt. Lorraei spoke over the man before he could even introduce himself, "Listen, I've been over this a dozen time. I studied at the university of Coruscant. The. Un. Iv. Er. Sity. Coruscant is not the temple I hail from. Yes I know the Sith control Coruscant. Yes." As he spoke Lorraei fished a jump drive from his coat pocket and slipped it into a port on his datalogger. The hologram of the control officer immediately began to flicker and distort. "Sir. I. Power cell. Call you right back." He shut the device off with a fools grin and a rolling laugh.

It was Keira's voice that drew his gaze back to the temple doors. His face lit up in a joyous smile, his voice booming with excitement, "Pateesa! How wonderful to see you again! How..." His voice trailed off quickly, his eyes settling on the Jedi beside his master. His smile vanished and his tone hardened to a cruel seriousness, "Keira, is everything alright? You seem rather different than last we saw one another." His saber settled into his right hand, his grip loose. Cehla Je'ea, the diminutive Tailring, landed on his left shoulder with an inquisitive chirping cry. His coal black eyes never leaving the stranger.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
Connor stood, watching the strange carefully and noted his concern for Keira. If he was cut from the same cloth she once spun, he understood this hostility and eagerness to look at something with tainted eyes. As the stranger questioned Keira, but didn’t stop looking to Connor and moved his hand on his hips, that was all that was needed.

The Jedi didn’t move, he didn’t need to, and kept his hands by his side looking down at the Acolyte. Or Padawan. Or whatever he deemed himself. Connor held up his hand briefly to silence Keira before she spoke.

”Ok, just think what you’re going to do next. Taking your hand to your weapon already is an embarrassing move to make, so obvious, but you’re surrounded by the Silver Sanctum and the Antarian Rangers. But before them, you’ve got me. So either take your hand away and remember where you are and who you’re talking to, or see how many steps you take before your head hits the floor before your body.”

Connor dropped his hand, sweeping it out before him with a gentle nod.

”Carry on.”

[member="Lorraei"] | [member="Keira Ticon"]
 
The threat uttered did nothing more than draw a quiet laugh from her, the amusement Keira found in his words strangely volatile. No matter the odds of her being able to stand against all the forces mustered here she would always maintain her same stubborn self-confidence, it bordering on arrogance in most scenarios. As she had said herself many times, most anyone could talk big, but only a few could back up their words with fact. And she had nothing to fear from Connor, so neither did Lorraei. Not so long as she was still standing. "You should watch your mouth before I cut your tongue from it, Connor." Her tone was casual, the threat amplified by the saber hilt that flew into her palm. "Before you have the others belonging to this Sanctum and those Rangers, you have me. So watch yourself, or we’ll see how many more threats you can speak before your head hits the ground where you stand."

No doubt Lorraei and Connor both had already adjusted to her blunt and entirely straightforward method of conversation, but she had ways of surprising even those that thought they knew her well. Somehow she had a feeling the man standing next to her wouldn’t appreciate all that she had to say regardless. It always seemed that she had that effect on people, causing their perceptions of her to shift from the best to the worst case scenario at the drop of a hat. This interaction already placed her on a side opposite from Connor himself, though that gap was always able to be mended through quietly spoken words and exchanging comments. Funny how it could be torn down through the same methods. Her apprentice was one she didn't concern herself with in terms of allegiances, as she would stand by him through most anything. And, well, she liked to think the same was reciprocated.

"It's a long story." That was the understatement of the century. There was no condensed version that would properly elaborate on all the changes that had been set in motion. The only method to truly inform him of everything was to simply sit him down and explain it all in detail. Nothing else would suffice, and besides, she knew his curiosity was piqued enough already that he would likely do as such with little issue. But now simply wasn't the time. Not here, of all places, and having more than just the two of them present would no doubt prove troublesome. It was best to wait, regardless of his thoughts on the matter. "I'll have to tell you later. For now, let's just say that the Jedi aren't quite as much the enemy as they used to be, and leave it at that. The rest will come in time." How much time remained to be seen, but that matter was irrelevant.

Briefly she looked to Connor, glancing between the two for a moment. Both of them would require keeping an eye on, if just to be certain that neither would lash out, provoked or otherwise. Both were just as volatile as the other if pushed, and she didn't intend to witness any fights this day. So, for once, she would do her best to moderate rather than instigate any conflict. "It's nice to see you again as well, Lorraei. Come. Let's talk at a more comfortable location." Without another word she turned on her heel, wordlessly nodding for the pair to follow, her pace just as leisurely as it had been previously. Each step was deliberate as she led them back to the small cantina that she had left from in the first place, sitting down at the same table as before and motioning for them to do the same. Her attitude would remain casual throughout the whole until she was truly provoked.

"Before either of you say anything more I want you to listen. None of us are enemy, and we don't have a reason to be. I'm more or less a Jedi at this point, and by some kind of extension that means Lorraei is as well if he so chooses. We don't have anything to fear from each other, and I'd like to keep it that way." Her gaze cut to Connor. "You're always preaching to me about how I should respect others, so I'd like you to try and practice that for once." Now she looked to her apprentice. "I trust you to make intelligent decisions, and I know you wouldn't try anything without good reason." All of her bases had been more or less covered, and now all there was left to do was allow this conversation to progress organically. "Now, let's try to talk like civilized people, however strange that might be for any party."

[member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Lorraei"]
 
The Desert Fox flashed an infallible smirk. With a thought his saber left his hand, once more tumbling end over end in the air beside him. "There are two kinds of people in this galaxy Whoka. Those who make ideal threats to someone they know nothing of, and well." His eyes regained fixed on the Jedi as he dipped a mock bow to the man. As he straightened Ray snatched his saber hilt from the air and slid it into the front pocket of his long coat. The pocket was by no means meant to fit the weapon as nearly half the hilt remained exposed but he was without his normal waist sash to hide the blade.

Keira's display was nothing extravagant by Lorraei's accounting, at least no more so than her demonstration when last they met. There was, of course, the distinct lack of darkness staining Keira's soul which had added layers to her already intimidating presence. As her attention turned back to Ray and she tried to make a brief explanation of the situation the man found himself smiling foolishly again. There wasn't anything visibly different about the woman, well a new scar or two mayhaps, but her whole aura had changed. She had found balance it seemed. Had washed away the sins that had plagued her spirit and tarnished her soul to blackness and anger. As though she had made peace with her inner demons and been forged anew for it. This, he thought as his demeanor softened toward relaxation, is much closer to the woman she is meant to be.

Lorraei nodded respectfully to his master, "I'll hold you to that Keira. You know how much I enjoy a good story." He moved up the stairs to follow her inside, another grin splitting his tan face as he passed the Jedi, Connor it seemed. As the trio entered the cantina and Keira claimed a table for them, Ray made his way to the bar picking up a bottle of whiskey that seemed to be destined for him. With a word to the server he gathered three glasses and rejoined the others, sliding into his seat with uncanny grace. Keira spoke for a moment and though he listened with only half an ear, he nodded his understanding. "I will do my best to remain a bastion of forethought and understanding pateesa."

He poured three shots into the three glasses, sliding one to each master with a gesture and minor effort of his will. He picked up his glass, raising it in an almost lazy manner, "To renewed peace with the Order and," His gaze shifting to the Jedi, a bemused look plastered to his face, "New friends." His drink vanished in a single swallow.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
Arching his brow a little to Keira, a slight turn of the head, Connor had a cutting remark ready to remind her of where and who she was, but he kept it back. He’d just be itching for her to try anything stupid. Her over-confidence was her weakness. Maybe her faith in her friends too.

Connor swallowed his pride, and again was rather bemused by the fact these two outsiders now deemed it appropriate to saunter into the Temple of an Order they didn’t follow to continue with a social. As they passed, Connor turned on his heel to follow and monitor.

”Respect? Why don’t you show some respect to the people and the walls you’re sauntering around like you own the place.”

He knew it fell on deaf ears, but he had to say something.

Taking a seat in the small cantina, the bemused staff unsure of what to think with this trio taking solace only for one of their own with them – that one being a volatile and reckless Connor Harrison, so anything goes – the drinks came, and the bodies seated.

With the one known as [member="Lorraei"] pushing the drinks over and toasting, Connor looked at him.

”Thank you, but I’m here to drink myself stupid. This isn’t the time or place.”

Taking his hand to the glass, he pushed it back slowly to the center of the table.

”So. An apprentice of [member="Keira Ticon"]. Well that must be interesting. Care to tell me why you’re here on Voss? Or is this some wonderful coincidence you both being here at the same time?”
 
That casual conversation had been so much as attempted was enough of a start by itself, though Keira could still sense a cutting undertone behind what would typically be nothing more than curious inquiries. It was plain there was still some kind of enmity lingering beneath the surface, and she had a feeling it had everything to do with the manner in which the two had been introduced and the precedence that had been set for the both of them given what common ground they shared in knowing her. That was a tumultuous foundation to build any sort of relationship on, to say to the least, and she knew the threats that had been spoken and the words exchanged hadn't helped anything, nor had the explosively violent sparring match that transpired previously done much to alleviate the tension that still seemed to persist between she and Connor.

But she would do her best to retaliate in a manner that was socially acceptable, or at least one that wouldn't raise so many eyebrows from any outsiders looking in. When in Rome, as the saying went, though this time Rome was a Jedi Temple, and she was far from manifesting herself as a member of this light side sect or any other in the galaxy. Sometimes she had to pretend to not be herself in certain scenarios, and apparently this was one of them. Not that that strategy would necessarily get her very far, given her general lack of self-control when it came to her own commentary. And what with the way Connor kept going on with his thinly veiled snide remarks and barely disguised distaste for the morals she and Lorraei held it would be quite the trial indeed. Hopefully things wouldn't escalate to something more physical, but even that was hard to say.

Just as quickly as her weapon had materialized itself in her palm it was clipped at her waist once more, and she pulled the drink across the table and into her hand with aid of the ethereal, raising it to her lips, the alcohol carving a fiery path down to her stomach. It didn't surprise her that Connor had refused the offer, another act to appear the bigger man, no doubt. She looked across to him with a raised eyebrow, feigning some kind of surprise, when really she wouldn't have expected anything less. "You should try this thing called getting out sometime. It might help with this aversion to loosening up. You Jedi have to know how to have fun every once in awhile. It has to get boring, just sitting around in this Temple all day." It was no wonder as to why the two constantly butted heads, but she wasn't about to attempt to bridge any gaps.

While she wouldn't speak for her apprentice, the queries posed by Connor warranted some sort of response on her part, even if it wasn't one he would particularly enjoy hearing. Then again, no one really tended to rejoice whenever she spoke. Nine times out of ten it was either an insult or some equally sarcastic comment. Being entirely serious had never been her best trait, and going through all she had in her twenty-six years of life certainly didn't help the case any. "Try to avoid pretending to care, Connor. Feigning interest isn't helping your case any." No one had ever called her eloquent, nor would that adjective ever be applied to a member of the Ticon family, or a Corellian, for that matter. Given that she was a combination of both of the aforementioned factors, the results were bound to be, well. Not much different than the current conversation.

[member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Lorraei"]
 
Ray's amusement dwindled swiftly as Connor pushed the drink away. Ever the high and mighty. He thought with mild distaste. He maintained his carefree tone thinly veiled though it might be, "You know on Tatooine it's a rare thing for a nomad to share his drink with an outsider. They say it brings bad luck to turn us away when we do." The Desert Fox poured himself another shot before turning toward Keira and offering to pour her one as well. "Of course, we aren't on Tatooine are we?" His gaze stayed with his master for a moment, a thin smile on his lips. "So we will talk of diplomacy instead, eh pateesa?"

He turned back to Connor, his smile gone, his tone flat, "Jedi are supposed to be renowned for their diplomacy are they not Whoka? You ask questions of me with acid in your tone and expect what? Answers? I offer a toast to peace and friendship and you do what? You spit in my face because you think one shot will leave you stupid drunk. I have seen seventeen year old girls drink more Whoka. Why the princess of Naboo drinks more during state events and still maintains her decorum."

Ray let out a distasteful snort, shaking his head as he turned back to his own drink. He took up his glass once more, his grip lazy and loose. A second shot disappeared in a single swallow. He couldn't help but be reminded of why he had separated himself from the Jedi Order. Preachers the lot of them and not a one who followed the spirit of their code instead of the letter of it. Compassion and understanding had been bled out of their Order a long time ago. "Some friends you keep, my lady Keira. Barely need enemies with this one about."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

Connor Harrison

Guest
That was it.

This wasn’t going on here in his Temple from these two. It was bad enough dealing with Keira’s flitting temper, but now to deal with another who assumed Connor was representing an entire Order and talked down to him – insulting him – was the limit his patience would peak at.

”I don’t favour alcohol personally, but I’m glad to remember why if you compare me to young girls drinking. Some Jedi you are with that company. Well done. And you,” he looked to Keira, sitting up, ”I really don’t know why I tried to help you when you continuously have a chip on your shoulder that always bounces back to me.”

Pushing back his chair, he stood and took the whiskey bottle in his hand, walked over to the counter and slid it over gently to the confused server. Then, he turned and walked back and stood by the table.

”Let’s go. Both of you. Out. And please, just do it without being smart because I’m not in the mood and I don’t have the time to sit and tolerate this.”

[member="Lorraei"] | [member="Keira Ticon"]
 
That was another drink to check off, and it had only been mere minutes since Lorraei's arrival. It also happened to add to the second running tally that included what Jedi Keira had managed to miff in one way or another in her lifetime. This marked him as the fifth or sixth on the list, not that she had ever bothered to really keep track. It was a little game of hers, most times, to see how far she could push others until they inevitably cracked in one manner or another. Oftentimes she was disappointed in just how little it took until the facade of respect was eventually dropped. Sometimes it was hours, but nine times out of ten all it took was a few minutes in her company for others to tired of what was typically half-serious commentary most times. Words had always been her first defense, and most anyone who knew her well enough could attest to that. It just seemed that most people hadn't quite adjusted.

Much like her apprentice's silent musings, this only served as a reminder of why she had abandoned the Republic's Order so early on in her apprenticeship. While even she would admit that her company wasn't the easiest to keep all the time, her heart was typically in the right place, even if that was difficult to discern through her almost constant sarcasm. Whether or not she admitted it or others recognized it, she did care about those close to her. It was her way of demonstrating those feelings that was often misinterpreted to the point of being turned away. It was that coupled with her general rebellious attitude that had caused her to sever ties with the Jedi. And, ironically enough, it was those same sentiments that had brought her back to the front lines of the very same Galactic Republic she had at one time spoken out against.

It seemed that those good relations couldn't last, just as the next words from Connor's mouth indicated. Still, it was unsurprising, given the reactions her words had elicited from him in the past. And so she would comply, something rather unusual given her typical stubborn attitude, but she had to give him some leeway every once in awhile. Their relationship was built out of give and take, thought it was hardly ever as balanced as that description suggested. Most times one or the other held more control, with each moment of brief surrender hardly ever eloquently instigated. It did most often take some sort of violent encounter for the two to grow to respect another again, and even then it was fleeting. Somehow they always managed to come together again at the end of it all, even if things weren't always seamless.

With a slight inclination of her head she motioned for Lorraei to do as directed, not wanting to spark any further confrontation between the three of them. For now it was best to obey, regardless of what her conscience was attempting to communicate. Of course, that didn't mean Connor wouldn't be hearing from her later. For now, however, she would play her part. And so she would follow him out of the Temple with the same sort of walk that had brought her within its walls, the slightest of smiles visible on her lips, the only betrayal to an otherwise stoic demeanor. "You know that I care about you, Connor. I wouldn't have confronted you earlier if that wasn't true. I don't have a chip on my shoulder when it comes to you. I never did." Even if her attitude would suggest otherwise. Whether he liked it or not, the two were friends of some sort.

Once they exited the building she turned to regard the both of them, her smile turning slightly more crooked as she looked to Lorraei. "You should know me well enough that I don't talk much of diplomacy. Don't let the titles deceive you. I'm far from the proper Jedi." Not that he hadn't figured that out for himself already. To say she was unconventional would be a severe understatement. It was a wonder why she and Connor didn't get along better than they did, since he seemed to share much of the same mindset. But, well, looks were always deceiving. She had learned that well enough in her life previously. Her gaze cut to Connor. "What now, then? I can't assume you brought us out here for the view, Master Jedi." There she went again with the cutting, biting tone, acid thinly disguised behind her words. If he thought her bad before, he had yet to see much of anything.

[member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Lorraei"]
 
Coruscant. More than a month ago the Desert Fox had been docked in one of his favorite little shadow ports in the Coruscant underground. The night before he had had a rendezvous with his lover at some upscale penthouse, good times those. Until he had gone to leave the planet. There had been that girl. She needed help, had to get off world.

Ray shuddered at the memory, his mind returning to the here and now. Oh, and the self righteous one. He frowned slightly as the Jedi took the bottle away, "I would have paid for that you know." Keira's gesture silenced any further quips the rogue might have had. His hands raised in a gesture of surrender, "Alright, I'll stop pateesa." Climbing to his feet, Lorraei followed the others to the doors of the temple. He remained silent all the while, not for lack of biting words he could throw about like so many stones. No his mind had returned to the disturbed youth he had smuggled off Coruscant. So much hatred and pain trapped in that poor soul and there hadn't been a thing he could do for her. She had refused to speak much, refused to listen to any advice, refused to accept any help beyond flight from the planet. So he had stolen her, taken her to another world, and watched her walk away. It still haunted him.

When Keira spoke again Ray's head shook, dispelling his dark thoughts. He offered a thin smile to the woman, "Truth. What ever was I thinking." Inside she had garnered for peace, sought cooperation from him in leaving without further conflict. It seemed it was his turn to take up the olive branch. The moment his mind was made, that conflict resolution was the right course, pheromones flooded the air around the desert Companion. They weren't intentional but a reflexive action of his Zeltron lineage, something he was wholly unaware of most times.

Without hesitation he stepped up beside his master, one hand settling on her shoulder gently, "Peace Keira. Leave it alone. If Connor says his home is closed to us, we should go. He doesn't want to deal with the vagabonds, isn't that right Whoka?" He turned back to the Jedi, his smile just as weak as the one he had offered Keira, "Your right you know. I'm not much of a Jedi. Never have been, never will be. But I'm at peace with what I am. I help when I can and who I can. Otherwise I look out for myself and make sure I live a spoiled lifestyle. So what? I'm not ashamed of who I am."

He took a step toward the Jedi. A small card was pulled from his pocket as he moved, maybe three inches square. "Here's your young girl though." With a flick of his wrist the card flew at the Jedi like a shuriken. The card was in fact a picture, a real color print out not some hologram. It showed a young woman, pale skinned, black haired and dressed in baggy clothes, fast asleep on a couch. An empty pint bottle in her hands. "I don't know what the Sith did to her but they broke that little girl. Left her with night terrors, worse ones I ever heard of. Three days after I stole her I found her like that on my couch. Slept like a babe. Keep it. For the next time your confronted by someone that doesn't fit your code." Lorraei turned his back on the Jedi, nodded once to Keira as he took his first step toward his ship. "Want a ride beautiful?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]
[member="Connor Harrison"]
 

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