Life (Is Real)

[Stephanie Swail]

The Silver Rest Trees
Kashyyyk, Mytaranor Sector

-----

Success is my breathing space
I brought it on myself
I will price it I will cash it
I can take it or leave it
Loneliness is my hiding place
Breast feeding myself
What more can I say?
I have swallowed the bitter pill
I can taste it I can taste it
Life is real life is real
Life is real...

-----

The treetops of Kashyyyk was the best place in the galaxy to be.

You could see the stars and remind yourself that the galaxy itself wasn't caving in on you. You could see the lakes, mountains and forests below to remind yourself that live continued to thrive. You were close enough to the Force itself without being close to anyone if you didn't want to be.

And right now Stephanie was confused, and Kyra was the only person who would understand more than anyone else the true pain she felt. The loss of identity, of belonging and of failure. And partly she couldn't get [member="Laira Darkhold"] out of her head.

She was scared, and she needed to know just what it meant to feel... to feel the way she did right now. She knew a meeting with Master [member="Valae Kitra"] was due, but hopefully not anytime soon. Then again, a Master and Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi may want to know why a Padawan went to encounter Sith invaders on her own without waiting for guidance. Foolish? Brave? Suicidal? All those and more.

Crickets chirped below.

If you listened carefully, you could hear the odd call of the Wookiees echoing through the trees.

A faint roar of engines in the distance.

Peace / Pain. A failure. A joke.

Stephanie Swail sat on the edge of the wooden platform, her legs and boots dangling over the 100mtr drop to the forest below. Yet there was no danger. The treetop walkways were as secure as they would be on ground. Ancient Wookiee architects and builders had worked with the Silver Jedi to create a network of wooden walkways, lifts and huts that could be used as places to find peace, to work, to meditate or simply feel free.

The Padawan had a vacant hut behind her, lit by two oil lamps that cast a warm glow inside and out. A couple of other huts could be seen in the thuck network of trees around her, but she felt like the whole planet was asleep.

Her drastically shorter hair, resolve in her eyes, no more Hapan gowns - it was no wonder Stephanie had sent a second message to the Sith Apprentice [member="Srina Talon"] to come to the Silver Rest. The Rangers would direct her to the base of the walkway lift when - if - she came. Stephanie hoped she would, but wouldn't hold it against her after nothing came of the first time. She was wrong to be angry. Stephanie knew how the Confederacy was involved with their own wars, their own politics and troubles. She wasn't Silver property.

The Jedi bore a face of sorrow where there should have been one of warmth.

Stephanie sighed slowly and continued to look out into the world below.

 

[Srina Talon]

The Ferocity landed in a clearing on Kashyyyk without any question. The landing codes hadn’t changed, and despite the fierceness of recent conflicts, they had still managed to remain allies with the Silver Jedi. The Confederacy tried to do what they believed was right. However, they didn’t have the time, or the patience to let morality endanger the lives of innocent civilians. It left them walking a very damaged and murky gray line that many used to question their intentions.

Srina Talon did not arrive alone. An entire squad of ominous looking MagnaGuard battle droids flanked her as she walked down the ramp. Since they had taken Ord Pardron tensions between the CIS and the Empire had risen to astronomical proportions. There were skirmishes on the outer-edges of their territory that required constant attention. Darth Metus, her Master, could not be everywhere at once. In that respect keeping the peace and fighting in his name befell his Acolytes. It was their purpose. Their promise.

They had low voices, red eyes, and wore a piece of roughspun cloth over their shoulders with certain markings that denoted what part of the Confederate military they belonged to. Their metals were painted dark, almost black, and in robotic hands lay an electrostaff made of high-quality phrik alloy. They were a terrifying sight. In respect to the Silver Jedi and the people of Kashyyyk the Sith Apprentice ordered them to guard her transport. Imperial spies were everywhere. There were few places she went, these days, without some sort of back up or protection.

She was one of the few ways that a hole could be punched through the Confederacy. Her Master would do anything to keep her safe. They couldn’t deny it, they couldn’t lie about it, thus logic dictated that the enemy, who studied them so furiously, would know about it. They would do anything to tear down the strength and determination of the Vicelord. Anything, including, but not limited to blowing her ship out of the sky.

Srina was clad fully in armor. Generally, when on the Silver Rest, she refrained. She wore soft robes or dresses that made her seem non-threatening and docile. It seemed to appease the Jedi that still silently questioned the place of a Sith in their home. Srina could not blame their suspicion, as history had shaped it, but she refused to let the fear of others lead her way. White-hair remained pulled up high on her head in a braided pony-tail while shining metallic pieces on her person glimmered in the starlight.

She looked fierce. Dangerous—a battle born angel ready to lay waste to anything that crossed her.

The first summons that Padawan Swail had sent to her had been lost, delayed by her presence on the front lines, but the second had reached her. Srina stoically waited for the famed Rangers to find her, and despite their questioning glances at her weaponry, they eventually directed her to where she had been summoned. There was a cold and sharp layer of steel in her eyes that warned them not to fight her.

A lift took her to the treetops where lodging seemed to be located and she approached a small figure seated on the edge of a walkway. Srina made little effort to be quiet, though her innate light-footedness provided some anonymity, but she couldn’t quite make sense of what she felt and saw. It was indeed [member="Stephanie Swail"]…But everything about her seemed different. Changed.

Normally, Srina may have greeted the young Padawan, but for the moment, she simply observed. When the dark-haired Hapan didn’t seem to acknowledge her, face bound in sadness, soul wrapped in sorrow, the graceful Echani moved to sit down beside her. Her mind, ever curious, whirled with possibilities of the bigger picture that she was clearly missing. This was not simply a social call. Not, if the young woman had sent for her twice, in the beginnings of a war. “Let me out of the dark my friend…”, she breathed after a moment, her honeyed voice in complete dichotomy to a plain porcelain expression. She seemed as if she felt nothing. As if nothing moved her...But she could feel more than most. The Force ensured it. “Tell me...”

“What has made you this way?”

​

 

[Stephanie Swail]

The noise of the ship she heard coming from the East of her position made Stephanie slightly relieved; it would be the Confederacy, and thus it would be Srina. It had to have been. No other ship would be touching down this late at this position unless told to, and there was nobody else up here in the heavens bar Stephanie herself. But the sound of the roaring engines, like a lumbering beast descending to her peaceful home, made her nervous. She was going to have to face up and explain, and make sense of things. It could possibly ruin everything and change it.

Not that there was THAT much to ruin or change personally. The Sith Apprentice was serving her Master and her Confederacy. She was living her life by doing her duty. What was Stephanie doing? Musing about months gone by and try to find a logical explanation for everything. Every feeling. Every thought. Every action. The less things made sense to her, the more annoyed at it she became.

She felt the power of the Force from Srina before she heard the lift rising from the planet surface, and soon heard her step out onto the wooden walkway. Her footsteps were slow but heavy, and without looking over at Srina it was clear she wasn't in her usual attire. The night-life provided the soundtrack, through an air of tension and worry on the Jedi's part, before the clank of armour became evident as Apprentice Talon took a seat precoursialy on the edge of the walkway with the Padawan Swail. And she knew something was wrong from the off. Srina had always convinced Stephanie she was a finely attuned, highly gifted Force user.

"Just life."

It was the truth, plain and simple. Life had made her like this.

"The Jedi. Me."

Her path on the Jedi way had led her here, atop the Kashyyyk trees after a few years on the lush world of Voss and before that the cold plains of Midvinter and then before that the nexus of Coruscant. But with each world she seemed to lose a little of herself in pursuit of her destiny.

She didn't need to ask why Srina hadn't been able to visit the first time, when things were much rawer. Here, dressed in her impressive armour, she made it quite clear that war didn't stop even when you wanted a quick moment of peace.

"Have you been well, Srina? How are things for the Confederacy?"

How she wanted to hold her...just one more time....

If she could evade the bluntness of her other answer, she could by time to make sure her responses made sense. But, yet, Stephanie knew that Srina was no fool and would see through her attempt at being nonchalent in a heartbeat. She was, after all, a Sith, and the Sith looked straight through the hearts of sentient beings to see their darkest, most honest feelings.

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Srina remained silent as she often did. It was in her nature to listen twice as much as she spoke, especially in instances such as these, where the truth lay hidden just out of her realm of sight. If she went too quickly, too fast, she could miss it entirely. The nonchalance that the Padawan beside her used caused the young Echani to frown. She was sore from fighting, muscles fatigued, and she’d only barely managed to have the mud and blood cleaned from the crevices of her armor on the Ferocity. The small woman, though lovely as the dawn, had seen more war than most.

Many seemed to forget that she’d been a warrior before leaving Eshan. A respected one, at that. Becoming an apprentice had been a simple transition. She already had discipline, a sense of decorum, and battle prowess that outranked many of the other Acolytes simply by a notion of field time. She’d beheaded Thyrsians and struck terror into their hearts as a Spirit Seeker. Their unearthly howls would never leave the ears of their enemies. Never.

It was with that in mind that she would have to insist that her affinity for the Force had nothing to do with her assessment of [member="Stephanie Swail"]. She needed only to use her goddess-given eyes. A blind man could have seen that something was amiss. This was not the soothing and naïve woman she had come to know. A single elegantly arched brow rose when the Hapan woman asked how she had been, as if they were sharing tea, versus languishing in the grief that rolled from her in unfettered waves. “Forgive me…But you did not call for me, twice, simply because of life, or to talk about the political standing of the Confederacy. Avoidance by omission is not the same as telling the truth.”

“But…I am here. I apologize that I could not be sooner. You don’t need to struggle to find words to delay my questions... I will wait until you are ready.”

The pale woman drew a knew up and rest her arm on it, allowing the sounds of night to fill the quiet, while the last vestiges of her bell-like voice drifted away. Srina could not help but notice every difference she found in the Padawan, be it physical, or otherwise. Her beautiful dark hair was shorn. Her eyes, typically full of innocent life, were so very, very far away. The Confederacy was a veritable war machine. She was merely a cog, replaceable, and interchangeable. They would survive without her constant nagging and orders for a little while. At least, she hoped they would.

Darth Metus had a tendency to bring out the more violent tendencies in his organic troops. The Sith Lord also had a tendency not to take prisoners. Imperials were only useful in one fashion. Dead. Once in a blue moon, if they came into contact with someone of a high enough rank, they might be used for informational purposes…But that was all. A dead enemy would not come back to strike them down again. A dead enemy, Force willing, stayed dead.

It was one more of their men and women that got to come home. Mathematically speaking, it was a game of numbers, and it was a game that the Echani had learned to excel at long, long ago. If the death of their enemy could spare their people infinite pain—it was the only viable option.

“I have been…Better.”, she spoke slowly, gently, into the darkness of night. Even though they seemed rather secluded in the treehouses Srina seemed hesitant to let her guard down. It was a side effect of spending so long looking over her shoulder. “Some believe that Echani live for the thrill of the kill. For the moment when our enemy is no more…”

“That isn’t correct. It isn’t death that we crave, not the moment where life ends and the long walk to the void begins, but an understanding of the moment. We would be more apt to trade blows for eternity rather than to lose our best sparring partner.”

War on such a grand scale was difficult. It clashed with her every sense of right and wrong. Yet, she was a soldier and knew that orders, were orders. Sometimes they were required to do the things that others could not for the betterment of all. It was also classically spoken that Echani loved their weapons and armor more than one another. That, was also a fallacy. They did not love a vibrosword for its cutting power, nor an arrow for its swiftness, nor a warrior for the sake of his glory.

They only loved that which they defended. Deeply, wholly, and completely. It was why Srina was capable of throwing herself into such a bleak frame of mind. It was why she was capable of reducing her emotions to little more than dismissable, optional, thoughts. She believed that the Confederacy was in the right. She believed in their mission of granting freedom and protection to worlds that needed it most. Ending Imperial oppression was a cause worth dying for.

Depending on the actions of the Empire and her own ability to adapt…That very well may be the outcome.

​

[member="Stephanie Swail"]​

 

[Stephanie Swail]

The second Srina began to speak, it didn’t take long for the young Silver Padawan to feel both stupid and angry. The latter feeling surprised her. She wasn’t – nay, couldn’t – be angry with the Sith Apprentice, at all. That would simply be disrespectful, unwarranted and rude. Maybe it was the embarrassing flush she felt at the observation Srina had made so very obvious in finding that pushed Stephanie into a mental corner.

It was a very good and true point made.

For some reason, Stephanie thought she had more guile in her following the expeditions of late, but apparently she couldn’t spin a good lie or make out to be less interested than she was. Srina was, in the eyes of Masters, the same level as Stephanie, but she was coming across far beyond what her status was deemed. The silver-haired warrior held herself to that of a Knight, and even looked and spoke like one in most circles the two had been in.

Srina Talon; Sith Apprentice and Echani warrior. Oh, and who is that on her arm or following meekly? It’s that Jedi Swail, the Grandmaster’s Padawan. Oh. Ok.

Forgotten by all in a heartbeat regardless of what she tried to do. Something wasn’t working, and even the warm evening light of Kashyyyk so high between the trees wasn’t making it easier to see, especially now with Srina by. If there was someone she aspired to be like, it was her. Stephanie didn’t force another fake smile, that cover was blown. She drummed her fingers on the wood below her and looked out over the planet, glancing sideways to catch a look at the impressive armour “Knight Talon” wore.

"War is brutal. I understand that. I know you have been busy."

She started to feel it boiling within, like a geyser wanting to erupt from the core of her otherwise placid expression. The feeling of having every muscle in your body start to grow restless and achy suddenly washed over her, and it was hard to sit still and focus. It was like being back at the cliff-face again….and it all suddenly went away as quickly as it had come on.

It would all go away if I push myself from here and fly. See how the Force carries me. It’s such an easier way.

Her dark eyes blurred as she focused on nothing, but let the thought about falling clear her mind from the anger and frustration.

"Thank you for coming Srina. I called you here the first time when I needed you the most, so now it’s just me trying to be brave and put on an act that everything is ok, and nothing really happened, and it’s all the way it should be. We Silver Jedi are doing our thing; you Confederacy types are doing yours. The galaxy keeps moving on. We all roll with it."

The flood-gates of the girls’ mind lazily opened.

"I’m literally just going to keep talking and then you can think on it and help me make sense of what you will."

Stephanie blew out a breath, rolled back a little on the edge of the large wooden platform and knelt.

"Not even Valae noticed I was missing, and I don’t think anyone did, but after Anzat I was whisked away for a little adventure to Malachor V. Very hot, very scary, very dark and dangerous." She started to untuck her gown from the brown belts she wore, each word heightening with some outrageous disbelief it even happened. "But nobody knew I was there, so it doesn’t matter now. A Sith Lady decided to use my own dagger, a gift at one time from Valae, to give me a haircut, and get this, carve a Sith rune into my flesh!"

She lifted the side of her gown, and there under the right breast on the rib-cage was the raw pink scar of a Sith rune. Stephanie knew she was crying but it was staggered tears and ones from feeling so ashamed.

"She dumped me on a world outside of the Peremian Trade Route and made me find my own way home, bleeding all over my Hapan gown and looking like a criminal. She even let me keep my lightsabre hilt minus the crystal."

The gown fell, and she rested clenched fists on her knees.

"And I called you to help me, to help me understand…understand….." the acceptance of what happened finally hit here through tears, "…why….why it happened to me, what I did wrong, and what it means! And you didn’t come. And I missed you." She shrugged, streaks down her cheeks. "I’m alone, and I’ve tried to carry on, but I don’t know what I feel anymore. I’ve failed, and…that’s it. That’s it. Just Stephanie who everyone takes for a ride because they can."

She tried to smile through the tears at how ridiculous she sounded, but it was hard to do, even with the attempt at shrugging it off.

What a mess.

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

​

Anger. ​

It was an emotion that, despite her Master’s wishes, she tried not to indulge. He explained that there was power to be found, strength, in the Force that would become available when she allowed passion to drive her over instead of her intellect. Srina could not bring herself to sacrifice hard-earned clarity and exchange it for such base instincts. Learning to control her emotions, down to autonomic expression, had taken years of her life. What came naturally to everyone else no longer came easily to her.

The young Echani thought. She did not feel.

Still…The very last place she had expected to find a fountain of flame, burning bright, was within Padawan Swail. It wasn’t as if the young woman was advertising the faint threads of ire or anything so specific. Srina was simply observant. The Force took advantage of her sharp-eyed Echani awareness and added new senses that filled in the gaps left by words unsaid. For some reason, it seemed, that her friend did not appreciate this aspect of her being. Srina could not stop her overly analytical affinities any more than she could stop herself from breathing. It was the only way she knew.

It was the only reason she’d survived for so long on her own. Before the Confederacy, before Darth Metus, there were days when she’d been tempted to give up. She could not go home when she wasn’t strong enough to challenge the warlord that sought her hand. If she did, she would lose, and her family would be no safer. But if she ceased to exist?

Perhaps…Perhaps then, those she loved, would be spared. Yet…It was not an option. It was a cowardly and selfish method of escape and there was no guarantee that one of her sisters wouldn’t be targeted next. The only choice she had was to learn, grow, and fight to return. When she did—Srina intended to win.

True to her word she remained a picture of motionlessness while waiting for Stephanie to find her footing. She spoke of war being brutal, of understanding it, yet still, the apprentice remained silent. She could not imagine what the Hapan woman had been through with the Silver Jedi…But even on Eshan, fighting the most skilled of Thyrsians, she had not seen anything like this. There was no understanding it. There was only the will to move through it.

Another frown, nearly imperceptible, passed her lips when the nonchalance continued. They were all ‘doing their own thing’, was it? Was that how allies considered one another? Still, she refrained from questioning or commenting. Perhaps, it was simply worded poorly out of stress and distraction. The Padawan informed her that she would explain, and Srina nodded her head, pulling silver eyes from the fathomless dark below the treehouses.

What she heard, what she saw, she did not expect. The words that fell from Stephanie like a waterfall burned through her like wildfire and caught her off guard. From the explanation as to where she’d been, why her hair had been cut, to the scarification that ran along her rib cage…It all felt like fire. Anger that she was so intent on not feeling began to pool slowly, poignant, and sharp. It was searing as outrage began to form and the first notions of vengeance began to flood from her core. The fact that anyone had done this to Stephanie, Sith, or otherwise, was wholly unacceptable.

For a brief moment, her eyes filled with a deep burnished corrupted yellow. Hate turned tranquil pools of silver into hawkish, fearsome yellow, and the very air began to move and solidify around her. Power echoed in the halls of her metallic gaze, seeping from her pores, bleeding from her core. Vehemence rang true and clear in the tone of her voice—the normally honeyed and bell-like sound destroyed by the wrath of a dozen demons. There, with glowing golden orbs, Stephanie would know the hidden darkness that pulsed inside the Echani. No. She was not always in control. “Who?”

Srina wanted a name. A description. A memory. Anything Stephanie had that could possibly lead her to the haaku [idiot] that had put the young Padawan through so much. If the Echani had to crack the galaxy in two—

All at once the Sith Apprentice stopped. Her eyes closed and the flow of power ended abruptly—cut off from the source. The emotion passed through her, draining away, like poison being drained from a wound. Stephanie had not asked her to come with the intention of the Confederacy launching a crusade in her honor. No…What the hurt, wounded, and lost Padawan needed was a friend. Comfort. Her needs came before any notion of retribution. “Goheno nin…”, she apologized after a moment. “Goheno nin.” [Forgive me.]

Watching Stephanie try to smile through her tears was perhaps worse than seeing them fall in the first place. Srina moved closer and reached for the short-haired woman, clearly meaning no harm, and drew her down into a gentle embrace. If she wanted to pull away, she could, but the Echani would hold her friend as long as she needed. Physical contact comforted her people. Not words. Actions spoke so much louder. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Nothing. If you cannot believe it yourself…Believe in me. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing to deserve this. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here before…But I am here now.”

People of any culture tended to need a sense of stability in their lives. It was needed to construct their day to day activities, to feel safe, to be able to function. Srina had also noticed that Jedi, in particular, had an inner need to believe that balance and justice existed in the universe. Unfortunately, survivors of trauma could sometimes develop a tendency to blame themselves. To feel as if the trauma was punishment. As if they deserved it or were somehow responsible for it. Feeling as if they had mastery over something, anything, helped to reduce initial anxiety but falling into that mindset would only serve to make the Hapan more vulnerable. More damaged. “You are not alone. Av-‘osto…” [Don’t be afraid.]

“You are safe, now. You haven’t failed anything at all. You’ve only just begun…”, Srina trailed off, trying to find the words that would soothe her, which wasn’t entirely her strong suit. She didn’t know how to comfort someone. The closest she was to anyone, save for Darth Metus, and Aryn Teth, was generally an enemy that was trying his hardest to kill her. For Stephanie, however, she would try. It was all she could do. “There is no understanding the cruelty and madness of others. Some are simply broken and the basic qualities that separate us from the animals are lost to them. What that Sith did…It was not your fault. She impressed her malice upon you without your consent. You did not deserve it. There is nothing in this world you could have ever done that could warrant such treatment.”

Srina would remember what had been done to her friend, however. She had a very long memory and did not forgive easily. If the Echani and Stephanie’s attacker ever crossed paths…She would pay for her sins tenfold in blood and airless screams.

​

[member="Stephanie Swail"]​

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Stephanie just looked at Srina, wondering what to say next or what to do. Instantly she felt foolish for blurting it all out; a garbled mess without restraint or thought – raw emotion and blunt words used in an expulsion of anger. On the wooden walkway surrounding the hut, she tapped her fingers to make a dull sound to distract her from worrying what the Sith would say or do.

Yet when her aura changed and she saw a chilling, sickly amber bleed into her eyes, the anxiety stopped. The Jedi was almost lost in them, and the pull of such a darker energy reminded her of Mirial and that wave that swept over here and nearly had her commit a cold act of murder to her enemies. But she didn’t. She fought it off. But now it was here again, and it felt strong, and it was proof that one like Srina could control her power and strength in the guise of a calm, focused mind.

It was memorising, and then it was over.

The bubble burst, and Srina turned again into the thoughtful apprentice she knew before and this time offered an embrace.

Stephanie sighed, and leant into it, rested her hands on the back of her shoulders and the side of her face on the left one, and relaxed. Her eyes blurred focus onto Kashyyyk as she rocked so gently in the arms of Srina, it was soothing and calming. Her words were soft and true, she could feel that. Not trying to say the right things to cover up a mistake, but saying them because she believed in them. It wasn’t her fault, but if she had been stronger then she could have escaped or accepted her fate instead of breaking down like an idiot.

She nodded here and there during what was said, but somehow she couldn’t understand HOW to believe it.

"How is it beginning. It feels like an end," she said dreamily, staring into the distance. "If I was stronger, I could have defeated her. If I was focused then I could have dealt with this myself instead of acting like a baby. There was no need to call you. There is nothing you could have done, but when it was happening I wanted you to save me. I wanted your strength and what you find within the Sith teachings."

A staggered breath was drawn in and exhaled, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t look her in the eyes just yet.

"If I wasn’t me, then I wouldn’t have had this happen. Simple. Because I was weak and tried to find the good in her, she saw my weakess. She was a Zambrano. The name didn’t scare me then, and it doesn’t now. It just repulses me." The Jedi paused. "That amber, to your eyes. It…it suited you. You looked like a true warrior." She paused again. "Teach me. I'll do anything you ask."

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The Sith Apprentice buried the small amount of disgrace she felt for letting her anger overwhelm her in the presence of someone that seemed so impressionable. Stephanie had been wounded, in more than just a physical sense, and anything could cause balance within her to tilt. Srina did not want to be responsible for altering her perception, for romanticizing the merits of the darkside, when she knew all too well it would end in blood. The darkness called, lapping at the edges of her being, but as always, she would show it who the Master was. Srina Talon, daughter of Eshan, was in control. Not the Dark Side. It had a place, and a purpose, but that blackness did not belong among the peaceful treetops of Kashyyyk. It was a place for reflection and healing.

Not a stepping stone for destruction.

Without hesitation, she wrapped the young woman up in her arms, mindful of the less than gentle pieces of her armor, and swayed just faintly. She could remember her Adar, her Naneth, embracing her in much the same way when she felt buried beneath obligations as a youngling. It was nothing so severe, nothing like this, but simply being surrounded by caring presences and warm arms had always helped a great deal. She hoped, in this case, that it would aid the dark-haired Padawan if her words were insufficient.

Srina could feel the young woman nod but she wasn’t entirely convinced. It was one thing to agree, aloud, and another entirely to believe it in her heart. To know that it was true with the entirety of her being. Stephanie would need that certainty, that strength, to muddle through the aftermath. It was clear that despite the time that had passed she was still lost. Bothered, and changed. “You are so young.”

“We are so young. We have only scratched the surface when it comes to discovering the mysteries of life. What it means to live, to breathe, to belong, and to make a difference. We are dust, elements, and hope given form. We have been empowered by the Force, by the universe, to figure ourselves out. How can this be anything but the beginning?”, she murmured gently, reaching up to smooth down shorn hair, and hopefully, to sooth some of her battered soul.

The stalwart Echani let her dark-haired friend speak her peace with respect. Upon hearing what it was that the Padawan wanted Srina closed her eyes, pressing them tight, where the Padawan would not see. The name ‘Zambrano’ rang familiar in her ears, and if her thoughts were correct, her Master did have some sort of ties by marriage to the extensive Sith Family. Surely, with that detail, the white-haired woman could discover the creature that had seen fit to torture the Hapan. “If I had known…I would have come. Even if the Sith was stronger than I—I would have come.”

And likely, with the whole of the Confederacy in tow. The slender woman could scarcely make a trip to Coruscant, to visit a friend, without an armed escort of MagnaGuard droids.

It was flattering, in a way, the way that Stephanie viewed her. Strong, impervious, proud, unbreakable. If only she was the woman the Padawan thought, if only she was the woman that she saw reflected in her eyes, perhaps she could have gone back home. Perhaps, she could have corrected everything that went wrong. “You must not blame yourself. You can dwell on ‘what ifs’ and alternate scenarios until the end of time…But it doesn’t change the fact that what happened to you could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to me.”

Srina did not note that something similar, though not equal, had happened to her. It was long before she had met Darth Metus. She had encountered her first Sith, alone, unprotected, and without any knowledge of the Force. The man, if he could be called that, tore through her mental faculties as if they were made of wet parchment. It was the reason the very first area of study she focused on had been mentalism.

“It’s already happened and is happening to millions of people throughout the galaxy. That is why the Confederacy is at war. This is why we fight.”

Slowly, the white-haired beauty pulled back, expression docile, though touched with a hint of concern. Silver eyes examined those of her friend, trying to see what wasn’t spoken, to understand what she felt. The desire to walk in the dark was not a path lightly chosen. “What, exactly, do you want me to teach you my dove? I can show you to hold a sword. I can show you how to fight…How to win…But I am only an apprentice myself. You are under the tutelage of a woman so great, that even my Master, a son of Mandalore and a Sith Lord, respects her. I do not know what I can offer that the Grand Master cannot.”

She took a breath. A pause. Her hand rose and she let careful fingers brush back a few strands of shortened dark hair away from Stephanie’s forehead. The gesture was gentle, softening her words, and her expression. “The Dark Side of the Force comes with consequences. It is seductive, black, and consuming in a way that you may never return from. Take time. Think with your head, and your heart, before inviting such bleakness into your being. It is not the equalizer you believe it to be.”

[member="Stephanie Swail"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

If the young, wide-eyed and long haired Hapan Swail could see the woman she was becoming right now, she would simply shake her head and take Apprentice Talon away so as not waste her valuable time. When the Republic had put their time and resources into shaping Stephanie to one day lead an army of the Light to repel the Dark, then she owed them their faith to stand above everything she had come to loathe.

Srina's words were as soft as the wind over Kashyyyk, and each one seemed to release tension across Stephanie's muscles and aches and pains. She stared down at the planet below, moving with Srina's gentle hugs and brushes of hair. As distant as she appeared to be, each word was taken in.

It made so much sense.

"I'm sorry."

To Srina, to herself, to the Jedi - to her parents. And the Republic.

"I know you mean well, and you speak far wiser beyond your years. It's like...it's like I'm becoming a spoilt teenager. I'm better than this, and I'm dissapointed in myself. I always have been, truth be told."

The Padawan chuckled a little at herself - what a Padawan she was. And yes, to the Grand Master of all Masters! She was sure Valae had reached the end of her tether. Probably why she was worried about seeing her.

"If I even dared look at the Dark Side, it was destroy me. I'm not strong enough to even contemplate such a power, even though I'm now bonded to it with...this." Her hand patted her torso. She looked at Srina, and she could be sure the light of her hair seemed to make her glow like an angel from Iego. "One day, when you are able, I would love you to teach me how to fight and how to survive. So when the Dark Side comes to me again, I can fight it and I can survive it."

Only a sound of Stephanie slowly inhaling could be heard. Focusing herself. Centering herself. She reached up without looking - she could see with the Force - and took Srina's hand in hers and continued to breath. To focus and to draw strength.

"Thank you for coming, my dear Srina. I thank you for your friendship and your patience, and your support. As little use as I am now, you know I will equally be there for you when you need me."

It was time to become the dove and fly high in the light again.

Nay - soar.

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The snow-kissed Echani shook her head when Stephanie apologized. She was wasn’t certain what the dark-haired Padawan thought she truly needed to apologize for, but, she could only imagine that in her head it was necessary. Her embrace tightened for a mere moment, without words, expressing how much she had no reason to feel guilty. She was sweet, innocent, and everything that Srina had long ago forgotten how to be. She, and people like her, was what the light needed to survive. “Don’t be…You are the furthest thing from a spoiled youngling.”

“Can you name any civilian, young or old, that has been through the things you have? That has suffered as you have?”, Srina breathed gently, hesitant, to bring up the dark subject that seemed to have broken her friend in the first place. Stephanie seemed less tense, somehow, but still Srina worried. Such trauma and indecision would not be chased away from her soul by words alone. “You are inspiration. To see someone so invested in the light—to feel your strength, whether you see it or not, is hope.”

“Hope is all that some of us have.”

Once again, the Sith Apprentice did not elaborate. Things were not always as they appeared to be but Srina was gladdened that the Padawan didn’t seem to be straying from her calling. Stephanie claimed that the Dark Side would destroy her. The pale skinned warrior agreed, but out of fear of harming her feelings, did not say. Few were equipped to deal with the whispering blackness of the dark. Srina, only barely, managed to keep her own mind intact. Were it not for Darth Metus, oddly enough, she would have been lost long ago.

“That mark is just a remnant of cruelty…It doesn’t change you. It doesn’t make you something you are not. Perhaps, speak to the Grandmaster, and see what can be done?”, Srina suggested briefly, a soft smile gracing elegant features, when the Hapan woman took her hand. Her hand turned, and delicate fingers wrapped around hers in return, offering support. Srina would be the strength she needed until she could find it herself. “You would be welcome to join some of my classes on Geonosis. I daresay you would enjoy it. Yet…When the Dark Side comes…There are different ways of fighting it.”

“Find the light within. Protect it. Until you are well…Meditate often. You will know that your balance has been found when you feel calm. Feel my peace, despite the war, and you will understand how I fight. It is the only way. No one can do it for you.”

Her honesty was pure as the dawn. If Stephanie did not believe her, all she needed to do, was think back to a few moments prior when Srina had seemed like anything but herself. Anger had swept through her, silver eyes had yellowed, and yet—Srina had returned of her own volition. The Force was a tool. She would bend it to her will, use it as needed, but never, would she let it overcome her.

Stephanie thanked her for coming and Srina laughed softly. The sound was sweet, silvery, like morning bells. “You don’t need to thank me for that. We are friends. I am here—And I promise you that if you refer to yourself in a negative light one more time I will push you from this walkway.”

She was teasing. Making a joke. Srina was not always good at it, but she tried, when it seemed appropriate. The small smile in her eyes would tell Stephanie that she was glad to be there. She felt guilty, for missing her previous call, but she at least she was here now. Better late than never.

[member="Stephanie Swail"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Eyes remained closed, and Stephanie’s breathing changed during the course of Srina’s words. Just slightly slower. Focused. Controlled. When the Echani made a joke, Stephanie had to chuckle.

"Well if I go over, you’re coming down with me!"

She took a few more moments to process the words before opening her eyes and looking back onto Kashyyyk with refreshed focus. The promise she had made to herself back on Hapes and in the service of the Republic was to serve the Light and protect the innocent people of the galaxy. Not just by the Dark Side, but by all forms of evil. By corruption. By greed. Slavery. Abuse. Genocide. Anything and everything she could do to use her ability to give something was her goal.

"I know people have been through worse than me, but I have to admit I don’t know where they went after. I mean, I was just a victim of a bully, that’s all. There was no other outcome than to scare and intimidate me. She was a bully. And I’m here because I stand up to bullies and what they do to people like me."

The Padawan quickly brought up Srina’s hand, kissed the back of it and patted her skin gently with her free hand.

"I have a long way to go, but I promise you I won’t falter again. When you have open classes on Geonosis, please send a message. I will be there if I can. I’ve never been to Geonosis either, so sign me up for that too."

She cocked her head a little and looked at the armour-clad Sith. Funny. She didn’t look like a Sith, talk like a Sith or handle herself like a Sith. So what WAS a Sith? A pre-conceived image created by those who use the title for nefarious purposes? The line between what a Jedi and Sith was could almost be blurred. Stephanie would never call Srina a Sith. If anything, she would call her a Jedi. A champion of hope and solider of peace.

"It’s a shame the Jedi never found you first, Srina. You call me an inspiration? You would inspire thousands who follow the Silver Jedi and its governments. You even have the right hair for the job."

It was true. Srina had far more to give the galaxy as a beacon of hope than she gave herself credit for.

"And when I said the darkness radiating from you suited you?" She shook her head. "It doesn’t. The Light shining in your eyes and your heart suits you far better. Never lose it."

[member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

The typically stoic Echani felt a smile cross her lips when the Padawan at her side threatened to pull her off the walkway as well. A soft humor burned beneath the surface of her skin, becoming a fond glow, versus a bright light. It felt strange to feel such an emotion after the skirmishes that had been running wild between the Confederacy and the Empire. Everything they did, every system they found over, was all culminating to one final sense of damnation. She could feel the inevitability like heavy cloud. This moment of amity…It would carry her through. “Then I suppose we will both need to learn to fly.”

Whatever the Sith Zambrano had done to the slip of a girl beside her was beyond bullying. That concept was reserved for schoolmarms and children that didn’t yet realize the consequences of their actions. The one that had captured and tortured Stephanie had done far worse. She had taken a light, a piece of hope, and tried to snuff it out simply for the fun of it, or for some other nefarious scheme.

Srina could not imagine that blow that the Silver Jedi would take if the Apprentice of the Grandmaster turned to the dark.

“There is nothing wrong with faltering. Promise instead, that if you do, you will always get back up.”, Srina corrected gently, taking the kiss to the back of her hand as a sign of respect, of faith. It was as such for the Echani, between the closest of friends, and the dearest of family members. “Geonosis is nothing like your Kashyyyk. It has no green outside of the cities.”

“It can be naturally dangerous, simply due to the heat, but truly, there is only sand, sand, and more sand. Though, really, there is not safer place from anything that would wish you harm. Nothing gets through our defenses. Our forces, organic and robotic, are fierce.”

She had said something similar to her Master once. It had been long ago, not far after their first diplomatic meeting with the Silver Jedi. He had found pieces of her lightsaber, poking the Grandmaster for help, and had proceeded to give her several needed lessons. The memory of enduring the lightning that arced from his fingertips was a start reminder of the power to be found within the dark. At the time, he had laughed, forced to agree. The Confederacy had only recently started claiming worlds that were less barren, thankfully, to help support the others.

Srina smiled when Stephanie claimed that she would have made a good Jedi. The white-haired woman turned silver eyes away, willing the young woman not to see her thoughts, or her true feelings on the matter. “That is kind of you to say. Only…A Jedi did find me first.”

“Cassius Droma. He was kind when he had no reason to be. He helped me, before I could use the Force, and aided me in escaping from a Sith. He was like the one that attacked you. Needlessly cruel. Violent, for no other reason, than to see how much I could endure.”

“The Force pulled Cassius and I in two different directions after that. For whatever reason, it required me to find Isley Verd. Darth Metus. I did not understand then. I had visions, so intense, that I could barely see straight. They brought me back to Coruscant, a place I loathe, to find him. And therein lies my purpose. I will remain in this empty space between the light and dark as long as I can. He is my teacher—but I am his anchor. I am the only thing that stands between him and…”, she trailed off, closing her eyes, to recall the memories that led both herself and her Master to this conclusion. His fears on Sullust had finally come to the forefront of his mind. She had seen what he would become without her. He knew it, in his heart, that all would be changed. Wrong. “Between him and the abyss. The true dark is full of terrors and destruction. The Force placed me at his side to be a divining line. A warning.”

Did all of that mean that Srina believed that one day, both herself, and her Master would fall from grace? Perhaps. Stephanie willed her not to lose the light and a sad smile swept over her features, as she nodded her head, though the response was a lie. She did not want to alarm the young woman. She had been through enough.

She didn’t need to know it was likely only a matter of time.

[member="Stephanie Swail"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

A horrid shiver ran up Stephanie’s spine towards the end of Srina talking about her arrival to the galactic map. There was something sinister behind her words, not intentionally, but it was there. Something far greater than a few words could hide or a faux expression on the face. Anybody could smile, could nod, could say the rights things….but they would find it hard to convince if they had built it on a lie.

Stephanie wanted to smile, and she did – albeit a small one – and it took longer to form. For the first time, she felt…upset. Upset and worried. Srina Talon was a Sith. And she subscribed to the Dark Side of the Force as Stephanie did to the Light. Darth Metus was a powerful man; a Lord. The two of them were a unified force against their view of tyranny and evil. In black and white, that meant Sith would go against the Jedi. But in these turbulent times, alliances were being forged where once not thought possible for a stronger, unified hope of peace and prosperity for all beings.

Yet…

A staggered breath escaped the Padawan, which she tried to hide by making a louder, longer sigh as she looked back into the forest below.

"Well. I did not know that!"

A thousand situations suddenly bled into her mind’s eye.

"I know Cassius. A good pilot. I stole one of his squadron ships once. Well, borrowed. When the Sith came knocking, I had to get there fast so, yeah…don’t know if he knows it was me. He probably does."

Stephanie suddenly felt the awful feeling of anxiety bubble away inside her. The words Srina had spoken gave her reason to worry. A girl pushed to the edge, but now held in balance by the will of a Dark Lord. If one fell, the other…would follow. Was this going to be another awful reminder of the old Jedi texts – attachment is forbidden.

With Srina seeming to pull away in her aura, Stephanie did the same. But, as ever, masked it with another smile and sigh, clasping her hands together and swinging her legs gently over the near hundred meter drop.

"If you become wrapped up in the consuming shroud of the Dark Side, if that path becomes your only draw, then do you think we will ever be enemies, forced to fight for each other’s survival to uphold the Order they serve?"

The idea of such a moment in time made her queasy.

[member="Srina Talon"]