:: HERO of KORRIBAN ::
Acier Moonbound
Naboo had become one of the few places where Judah could sit still without immediately feeling the need to leave.
That had not always been true. Once, quiet had been easy for him. He could spend hours buried in old records, repairing some half-broken piece of equipment, or sitting beneath a tree with nothing more pressing than the sound of the wind moving through the leaves. A year in Sith captivity had changed that. Silence had become something else there. It had become the space between footsteps in a corridor, the pause before a door opened, or the stretch of time when Judah was left alone long enough for his own mind to become the next thing trying to hurt him.
Thyferra had not helped.
He sat beneath the shade of one of the older trees overlooking the lower terraces of Theed, far enough from the Temple that there would be no steady procession of Jedi passing by, but close enough that the city still surrounded him. The fountains below carried their constant rhythm through the gardens while speeders moved beyond the stone balustrades. Somewhere nearby, someone was laughing, and the sound caught Judah’s attention for a moment.
It sounded normal.
Judah had almost forgotten what normal sounded like.
A cup of caf rested beside him on the stone bench. He had abandoned it several minutes ago after deciding that whatever establishment sold it had committed a personal offense against him. The decision had not stopped him from drinking half of it first.
His ribs still ached when he moved the wrong way. There were other injuries too, reminders that his return to the galaxy had not exactly been gentle. Most of them were healing, while some would take longer. Judah had learned quickly that healers did not appreciate patients who measured recovery by whether they could still stand upright.
Apparently, that was not considered a medical standard.
His gaze drifted over Theed.
There was a reason he had asked Acier to meet him here rather than at the Temple. Judah did not want the conversation to feel official. A council chamber would have made the meeting feel like a summons, and a training room would have made it feel like a lesson. Even the presence of other Jedi would have changed the tone, especially if they lingered close enough to pretend they were not listening.
Judah wanted none of that.
Thyferra had given both of them enough pressure without dragging more of it into whatever came next.
Judah remembered pieces of the battle too clearly. He remembered the fighting, the confusion after the Force disappeared, and Acier caught somewhere inside all of it while carrying more than Judah suspected the man knew how to put down. That was part of why Judah had sent the message.
The rest of the reason had not fully settled into words yet.
He leaned forward and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before his eyes moved toward the path leading through the garden. There were probably better ways to handle whatever came next. Judah had spent enough years as a Jedi Master to know that there was almost always some wonderfully composed version of a conversation available in theory.
He had never been particularly good at those.
A figure appeared along the path, and Judah recognized Acier before he came close enough for either of them to speak.
For a moment, Judah remained where he was. Then he reached for the caf again, reconsidered, and left it sitting beside him.
When Acier drew near, Judah pushed himself to his feet. The brief tightening across his expression betrayed the complaint from his ribs before it disappeared again.
“Acier.”
Judah offered a small nod toward the path beside him.
“Come on. I’ve been sitting long enough.”